Evening Star Newspaper, February 7, 1891, Page 8

—— = ATYPICAL CEMETERY. How the People of Arequipa Dispose of the Departed. THE QUICK AND THE DEAD. Whe Processions to the Tomb— Difference Be- tween Rich and Poor—The Foreigner’s Cor- | ner—Bad Roads Prevent the Liability of | ‘Being Buried in a Trance. | Prom The Star's Traveling Commissioner. | Angguira, Peav, 1890. ASSING ALONG THE STREET ONE DAY our attention was drawn tothe subject of funerals in « forcible and rather unpleasant | manner. With hands full of roses, we were | musing on the cold winter weather at home | and the beauty of tropic sunshine amid snow- | clad mountains, when we barely escaped being | Knocked down and run over by four horses | @riven fariously, the foremost one ridden b: postilion, that came dashing around the corner | About the only thing that goes with speed in lazy Pera is a funeral Procession; and when wheels are out (a com- | paratively rare occurrence in Arequipa) they | @laim the right of war, not only in the street, | Dut on both pavements, invariably eutting off all corners so closely as to graze the houses. This is not always the result of carelessness, however, nor due to “malice aforethought” on the partof the drivers. The city streets are very narrow and irregular, paved with small, ali stones, and sloping sharply from the je toward a gutter on either side. Conse- quently clumsy wheels will slide toward the @dges. and in many places the only way to pre- | vent them from actually leaning up against the | houses is to drive pell-mell. | NO DANGER OF PREMATURE BURIAL. Considering the fearful jolting over stonesand hollows end broken places induced by such lo- | comotion, there is little danger of being buried | fa s trance in Arequipa—at least where the | hearse isemployed. The poor people, of course, | eannot afford to hire it, but carry the dear de- xd on their heads to the cemetery, a distance ef something more than three miles from the | central plaza. Most of the latter class cannot ford a cofin, though the luxury of # ‘wooden box, painted black, blue or yellow, may | be rented for the journey between the cathe- | ral and the place of interment—the same cof- | fin verving the purpose over and over again, day after day, for years. It is not uncommon | to meet a company of men carrying their dead | on # public bier, the latter being constructed | of sive narrow pieces of woud, about % foot | apart, nailed crosswise to the side poles that serve for handles, the end board stained blac and si gecheerful skull and cross bones Outlined upon them with white pain’ A SWELL FUNERAL PROJ 7.1.0 The procession so unpleasantly encountered ‘was evidently that of a «well Arequipanian, for the coffin had silver handles on it (the gauge | of bighest swelldom here), while several priests rode next to the hearse, followed by forty or fifty men, all on horseback. ‘The sight reminded | us that we had not seen the cemetery; anda few afternoons later we too rode out on horse- | back, accompanied by a party of resident | foreigners—tforit is utterly impossible to induce | @native, of high or low degree, to escort any | stranger to the Campo Santo: a fact we ct to wonder at when we had visited the place. THE ONLY BURIAL GROUND. Arequipa’s only burial gronnd is situated on a barren foot hill, reached, after the city limits are pessed, by an uninhabited road whose deep sands are alternated by stretches of loose Doulders. It is a very suiall place, considerin; that the city is more than three centuries old, and during all thet time has had_a population varying between 20,000 and 50.000." "The front Of it is quite imposing. with high adobe walls | and massive iron gates set im the arches, and | t inside ic 2 well kept space devoted to wer beds, which give no hint of the horrors | et with a few steps beyond. In this end | aristocrats are buried. im niches three deep in | the » di and sides | nd adobe | foundation. Most of the niches have no mark | except a number rudely painted on the fi corresponiinz to figures placed opposite the tenants name inthe church records. Some of them havea name scratched on the dried mortar withalead pencil, and a few have | marble slabs elaborately lettered, settin; forth | not only the name and virtues of th> deccased, | Dut also advertising the faci of his or hez wealth and social importance. At the top of | these latter are generally inscribed the wosds Richo perpetuo, to indicate u wall occupy the place GRAVE 0B: As grave robbery is of very common oc- currence—not for scientific purposes, as there | is no medical college anywhere near, but simply | value may have been buried with the corpse, e to the boards of | its coffin, wood being searce hereaboutse—the front of each niche is not only firmly closed with mortar, but further guarded by an iron grating. Of course the ghoulish work of the resur-| Feetionist is done at night, becanse there is | hardly an hour in the day without an inter- ment, and innumerable ghastly stories are told of finding the pale clay of well-known men and women tumbled ont on the ground a: of grave clothes, rings, shoes, rything that the love of the living had arrayed them in for the last long sleep. An incident of this kind, | iMlustrating the Cholo character, occurred & few months ago and is said to be directly re- | sponsible for the terribie epidemic of small- | pox that afteward carried off its victims at the | Tate of two or three hundred « week. Asin Most parte of Soath America isolated cases of disease are always to be found in Arequipa and nobody minds it more than measles, ague and other common ills. A very fat old woman died of what is known hereabouts as viruala negra, black small- Pox, and her remsins were hurried into the ‘ound without a coffin, there being none in limited stock on hand large enough to ac- commodate her “build.” Knowing well the tricks and manners of their compatriots, the friends left nothing of value upon her but a gold ring, which they could nut get of from swollen finger. Next morning carly the first funeral procession that arrived at the cemeter found the old lady on top of her grave, blac! smallpox and all, minus her wedding ring, the swollen r that wor it having been eut off close to the hand. They re- jarned the putrefying corpse with all Possible speed: bat “for. tives successive Bhornings thereafter she was found disinterred, having mm resurrected in and again by ether robbers who were not aware that the bit me six ‘THE ENGLISH CORNER. At the far end of the enclosure is that portion et aside for the burial of foreigners, generally Known ae “the English corner.” There was difficulty in securing this concession to ‘alien element, and to this day the spot is looked by the natives with reproach and contempt, as if the nearness of bones that may re have held heretic souls were an insult those who “died in the Lord.” Near the cometery gates is a neat little chapel and a kind # receiving vault, in which corpses are placed await their turn for interment when several Bappen to arrive at once. Midway the chapel and the stranger's corner, in the center of the ground, is a tall | edifice of plastered adobe, which looks distance hie the marble’ walls of a aple. A nearer view of this “‘whited discloses an accumulation of hor- it to shake the strongest nerves. of teraple above eight feet of cellar cirenlar vault bree feet at the o visit nearly with un- corpses in all stages of decay, which evicted from rented graves and into it toawait the annual cremation There are great port holes in the walls xi a broad stairway lends down to the bottom. yagh these open spaces the passer-by ma; ah unrestricted view of bones, shrouds, dismembered limbs and headless trunks, an awful jumble as, it is to be hoped, be dificult to find anywhere else on Some of the skeletons show considera- of hair and glossy tresses that Socbdess foving hands notJong ago caressed. ‘The wonder grows that the sir is not so ie BERD! Ht Ser position as to kill the inhab- | it te of all the surrounding section; but, the fear mosphere, where carcasses of man ot beas though left uncovered in the sun. dry up ‘mummify rather than decompose. ‘TUE SPACE POR PAUTERS. people—hos- ‘pital cases and thuse who cannot pay even three | the affluence of the late lamented, each months’ rent for « grave. The middle class— that vast majority between, the t ment com| pewith the newing the lease if affluent circumstan vrs, which affords ‘greater secur. and ma. retained as long as money the semenicanes of tn family hold out. FOLLOWING A PROCESSION. As we dismounted from our horses outside the grounds and left them in charge of Cholo boys who are always prowling about the f emecorye waiting for similar =. lor eral procession was just winding th the gates, and we followed reverently in wake. The coffin was first carried into the fhe procession was reformed, borne in the midst, led by two black-gowned riewts. few feet in the distance of per- between the chapel and the waiting ‘niche in the wall the pall bearers put the coffin on the ground and chanted nes to the utterances of the priests in a dismel mass; after which water was liberally sprinkled from a tin bucket upon the coffin and incidentally upon those who car- ried it. We are told thet the stops thus made between the church and the grave depend upon P costing a stated sum for prayers and responses. No women followed this favored corpee, mor are they ever seen at South American inter- ments, When the place of vepulchre was reached, after more prayers, responses wrinkling from the tin bucket, the coffin was jid into its aperture, the mouth filled up with loose stones and over the outermost layer a thick coating of mortar was daubed, into which was set a marble tablet. ‘A GOOD DAY FOR FUNERALS. The day of our visit must have been @ good one for funerals, for during the hour we spent there no less than five of them came and went. The second coffin was s plain, unpainted box, carried on the shoulders of half x dozen mer, and we observed that this necessitated the services of only one priest, no stops the chapel and the wall and but scanty sprink- ling from the watering pot. Then followed in quick succession three mterments of the com- monest sort, the bodies ——— been brought uuncoffined from the city to be hurried into ground as quickly as possil ion Shere these poor are buried is s Golgetke thet bafites description. Its entire surface is strewn with bones, scraps of broken coftins, bits of grave clothes, braids of hair, &c., which have turned up by the spades of grave diggers or dropped by those who bear evicted corpses to th charnelhouse. As many as a dozen new-made graves were yawning for their occupants, and in the pile of earth thrown up beside each one were skulls and limbs and bones galore. On top of one heap I noticed s human trunk, head- less and limbless, and on another # leg with withered flesh clinging to it, from which th foot bad been cut by the spade. Directly in the path lay something so ghastly that the gen tlemer: of the party quickly stepped between it and us, but too late to save our eyes froma never-to-be-forgotten sight—that of a woman's head, cut off at the neck, with long hair strea: ing all around it, and the white cotton bandage that had bound ‘up the poor jaws still in its place, hardly soiled by contact with the earth. We’ waited until one of the uncoffined poor had been laid away. The corpse (that of « woman), wrapped in its meager blanket, was lowered by means of raw-hide ropes; and then he pallbearers proceeded to shovel on top the heap of bones, stones, flesh and gravel that had been turned out to inake room in the old, old grave for anew occupant. The most active of the shovelers caught the headless and limbless trunk above mentioned upon aes and hurled it in with a resounding whack that made one’s blood run cold, and another rolled in the head with hi ire foot. There is no necessity for this wholesale mixing of the bones of the populace, for miles of waste land stretch away on every side. Faxsiz B. Wanp. eee a NANSEN’ DARING PLAN. His Contemplated Expedition to the North Pole in 1892. The contemplated expedition to the north pole in 1892 by Dr. Frithjof Nansen—who, it will be remembered, successfully crossed Greenland last year—is, says the Manchester Courier, a tent of daring which, even among arctic enterprises, is without w parallel. The intrepid Norwogian explorer st s recent meet- ing of the Danish Geographical Society at openhagen, at which the King of Denmark was present, gave an outline of his contemplated journey, illustrating his lecture by the help of charts. His expedition is unlike the English and American expeditions along the west coast of Greenland, or that of Capt. Tegethoff along the east coast. Dr. Nansen dwelt at some length on the unfortunate Jeannette expedi- tion, because he intends to follow the same route as that attempted by that vessel. Accord- ing to Dr. Nansen, the Jeannette expedition ended in disaster, not in uence of a wrong plan being pursued, but because the was not strong enough for the ice pressure and the current. He holds that the plan of going, not against the current, but with the current, which the Jeannette first of all polar expeditions pursued, is undoubtedly the he cee starting from Christi fansen purposes - ania in the summer of 1892, hoping to pene- trate Bering straits in the same season, just asthe Jeannette did. Instead, however, of directing his course north, like the Jean- nette. he intends following the northern coast of Siberia, forcing his way between the new Siberian Islan ta current flowing east, until he meets “the northern current.” His whole plan is based upon the intention of proving the existence of a “northern cur- which, starting from the Siberian rivera, extends northward from Spitzbergen and Franz Joseph Land, along the east coast of Greenland. round Cape Farewell and high up along the west coast. He believes himself to be in ion of roots of the ex- istence of such a current. In bis lecture he cited the curious fact that effects left behind by the Jeannette expedition were found, ex- actly three years after the disay of the vessel, on the west coast of Greenland. These effects must have come from the north of Franz Joseph Land, for south of thet land there runs only a feeble western current, and it is well known that the Jeannette entered a current before she was crushed by the ice. Dr. Nansen next pointed out t arms have been found along the west coast of d which could only have proceeded from Alaska; and, finally, the tree trunks drifting with the ice, ‘which form one of the chief of the natives of iberian means of sub- thrown trees, five firs and been identified as c current, but a river current, is furnished by the fact that its water is sweet for its principal part, and to the of the sea, arise from melted snow or ice. Tents in those regions either are feeble or run ina direction opposed to that of the Stream, while this current is very powerful and very deep. The greatest difficulty for the proposed pedition will be to reach thiscurrent, and this task will take from two to three jansen ig at present en- gs pon the equipment of bia expedition, ebie@y in building and fitting out his vessel. isto be as small as possible and to be manned bys crew numbering no more than ten or twelve. The sides of the vessel will be very oblique so that she may lifted up by the pressure of the ice. The Jeannette was, in this respect, constructed as badly as possible, pressure for over two Very loosely fitted, so as to be easily off, as it will be useless when once the open pola The vessel is to be the head. quarters whence all exploring expeditions to start. Among her equipments will be a tive balloon, to be used for taking observ: as to the Le) of the the latter unfortu clinging to them, and there are | ble! | A 1 ir i Fe i i | EF i i i i } avenue had been Ty ge THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D.C, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1891—SIXTEEN PAGES. CLERKS HALF A CENTURY AGO. ‘Hew the Geversment Work Was Done in the Forties. ‘MEX WHO DROVE QUILL PENS AND MADE THEIR OWN ENVELOPRS—THE DEPARTMENT BUILD- INGS—WOOD FIRES, LARD-OTL LAMPS ND CAN- DLES—THE CITY AT THAT TINE. CLERK OF THE OLDEN TIME WHO did valiant service for Uncle Sam in the tention of Stam reporter a few evenings ago. In overhauling » book case he had found a copy of “The Guide to the Capitol and National Executive Offices,” by Robert Mills (printed by ‘Wm. Greer, 1848), and he remarked: “A book like this brings up like recollections of the past. When I read the names of the worthies of those days strange emotions fill my breast. In the four drab-colored brick buildings that once stood near the White House some of the grand- est men once did Uncle Sam's service. Some then doing government work were men who had taken such a liking to the city when filling the position of legislators that they remained here when their terms had expired. THE OLD DEPARTMENT BUILDIN: 38. “Many of the present generation,” continued tome ides of the executive buildi olden time. There were originally but two, one located on 15th and the other on 17th street, mut two others were added about 1820. ‘These were occupied by the State, Treasury. Nery ents, and in comparison ‘ith the bulldings of today were mere plgmics, They were drab painted brick buildings 160 feet long, 55 feet wide, of two stories height, with vaulte in the basement for fuel, &c. In those days hickory wood was the principal fuel used in the fireplace, warming the rooms. For were known as the northeast southeast, (Treas. far) and’ southwest (Navy) They were severely plain. “How- ever, when the old Foundry Church and Dr. Lauries' Presbyterian Church, only a square distant, looked like and President Jef- ferson’s stable, at 14th and G streets, had been converted into a school house, the old buil seemed to be in keeping with all their surround- ings, but not with the then imposing White House, of which Mr. Polk of Tennessee was the ocoupant. ‘HOW THE CITY LOOKED THEX. “Then the principal hotels were Coleman's (now the National), Brown’s Indian Queen Qfetropolitan), Fuller's City Hotel (Willard’ Gadaby’s (8d street), and there were quite » number of boatding houses. Pennsylvania wed with cobblestone, as also a square or twuof F street; many of the streets had not even been ‘ and graveled’ and a number had only meandering wagon roads skirted by graveled footways. The markets were simply long sheds, the churches were all plain structures, 80 you see the Capitol, the President's House, Treasury a stent ae had been oceu- ut a few mont not appear to be in | on tongue as the State, ‘War and Navy juildingy. ‘THR CLERKS. “Now,” said the old gentleman, book in hand, “in less than 100 pages, made up princi- pally by desoription of the Capitol and histori- cal sketches, each department and bureau in- troduced with « statement as to official duties, here are the names of the government clerks. were then employed here less than 600 clerke and 100 messengers, watchmen and laborers. These transacted the business of the clerks ranged the latter sum being paid clerks. Department chief clerks received $2,000 per annum. The messengers received as low a salary as $350 and watchmen 965, but most of the messengers run up to §700' and ‘SOME OF THE NAMES. “To return to the book,” said the old msn, scanning the list for the State Department, “there are the names of W. 8. Derrick, A. Der- rick, Lund Washi mn, W. C. Reddall, W. C. Zantzinger, R. 8. w, 8. L. Goveneur, R. Greenot Edward Stubbs, G. W. P. Faherty, 8. Sobl, clerks, with George Bartle pa ey ee ate ee, Hutter ret to Pennsylvania and I believe had charge of a German Reformed church there some years. Messrs. Hill and Sobl left the city, but the others all died here or seat by. You know what a valuable officer of assistant secretary. Maj in the neighborhood of 6th then and for many years after ursing agent. Of the eleven clerks of the second con- troller’s office, located at the west end of the first floor, headed by the late Dr. John M. Messrs. G.D. Abbot, T. J. Cath- cart, Moses Campbell, A. T. Clark, J. Madi- son’ Cutts, W. H. Evans, Wm. Flinn, J Tobias Purrington and Alfred Shucking—but two survive, Messrs. Flynn and Shucking, with the messenger, Mr George C. Jackson. ' This office was formerly it building and some years after was north end of the treas- ury. The fifth auditor of the treasury also had hia office here, located at the east end of the first floor. Maston, chief clerk; A. lin, J. H. Huston, A. Spear, A. Steele, }d, messenger, have all gone, exci perhaps, Mr. Cox, who was ‘8 few years ago. BUT FEW CONVENIENCES. “Look at the conveniences the clerks now have,” said the veteran. “We hed none of your revolving chairs then, steel pens were andE just coming in and ready-made envelopes terse novelty fer did we manage Doa’t mu know that a good goose a fine pe It is safe to say that in’47 more than the, clerks had never written with a stel mn, were then - Theva: See! Es would cut the quills with a good knife, make the points and knowing the favorite style of the different clerks would place on their tables assortments tosui:. = - ‘MAKING THEIR OWN ENVELOPES. “In some instances the writers preferred to velopes were, as I have stated, novelties. Gen- the ‘proof | ¢rally the less nt letters, notices, re- ceipte of communtcations, Aeron a single and tm sheet of were 90 folded as to make the porn vely | will have the kindn with | gas. Gas is the ‘WHY DO MEN DREAMT 4 Dreamy Answer From the Mas With ce SE5E tit i ef g £ i i H t E cl int and finally fetching up here in New York again, which was the worst of all, for I ought to be in or or Provence, or somewhere. that I can't dream of pleasant things =“ * while.” “ lo men dream anyway “O!" paid the man, “if you want me to hold —— little on over “is ing enough to do it. ‘In thoughta from the Visions of the night wheu deep slop talioch on men, then fear came upon me and great trem- bling, which caused all my bones to shake. ‘Then’a spirit passed before my face. The bai of my flesh stood up.’ That is the sort of dream that came upen good, man, Job after the winds of heaven had blown upon. the four corners of the house in which his children were making merry, and leveled it with the ground. His old wife was probably slumbering beside him at the time, and Elipbaz was enor ing away with nothing'to bother him.” “You don't seem to be answering my ques- Ser tel clearly.” over the deep mine,” said the man. ‘What is the ‘wide realm of wild reality’ that Byron talks about? And the three great dreams of Dante—in what world was he when he dreamed them? What isreality and what is unreality? ‘When you know that, perhaps you will under- stand why men dream. One has to go to the poets for information of ansthing like a solid value in such mattors. You remember Keats and his ‘Ngntingal ‘adieu! adieu! thy platntive anthem fades dow, over the still p the hlside. and iow tis buried deep Nas ita vision: or a waking Gream? Fled is that antisic; do I wake or sleep? “Night dreams and day dreams, phantoms and realities! I don't see why dreams are not realities. In metaphysics reality is that which endures, and yet we know that nothing en- dures. Suppose we say that reality is that which existe We haven't said very much, but we have said something and have found’ out that dreams, since they exist, are realities, just as truly as chairs and tables are realities ‘and as traly as thought itself is a reality, and perhaps the only one, with each man for own ens reelissimum. When we dream we see, and to ask why men dream is, in truth, only to ‘ask wh’ they are what they are. Both waking and sleeping dreams are # part, anda very close and intimate part, of man himself. “When I want really to think about such matters I do it in a poetical way, precisely as I am forced to do when I try to get at the reason why Beethoven affecte me as he does in the ve deepest soul of me. I won't go to the physiol- ogists, and, least of all, to the physiological psychologists for an answer or anything like an answer to such questions. Such answers as they give may satisfy a man like Eidlitz, for example, and you may remember what work he does in the mechanical direction in his book on the ‘Nature and Functior of Art.’ Or you might go to Dr. Maudsley or Dr. Buchner or Dr. Hammond and see what they have to say. Their candle is dimmer even than mine. Per- sonally I prefer the poets; their hints and sug- gestions are of more value to me when I have to think about the deep things than ail that I can find elsewhere. ‘The heart is a ‘suspended Jute’ and not a physiological force pump. And within the heart there is a deeper heart—the cor cordium—and there you dream. There you have Beethoven and Bach and there you are mute; for there is really nothing to say there. You can only feel and you cannot ana- lyze your feelings any more than you can ana- lyze the delicate beauty of orchi or ex- pian the, emotions ‘that thrill you when you look deep into the heart of a morn: ingglory some bright and dewy morning just after the sun is Ri caway! away!’ says Joon Pacl; ‘thou speakest to me of things that in all my endless existence I have not seen and shall not see!’ When I wasn boy at college I was looking at » flower one day and old Prof. Taylor Lewis e up and looked at it with me. He said: ‘It is only one soul looking at another.’ And that is about as near the thing as anybody will rly “Ob! come now! Such a remark doem’t ex- in anything. It is too wide. You might just as well say when you sit down ins chair that it is one soul sitting in another; or when you dream that it isone soul dreaming in another, and so on, from one end of the uni- verse to the other. “Doubtless,” said the man. “I will not say ne. Very often it is one soul dreaming in or of another. And down in that dim mine things are wonderfully confounded with each other. Bliss and anguish, hope and despair, joy and sorrow are one, and the man who jis there almost loses his own personality. Someti actually does lose it. Love is born down there, ‘my boy. Let us see, wasn't it Shelley whosaid that moonlight and music and love are one? I don’t suppose that means anything to you, either. It is rank rot, isn't it, and the man who wrote it wasan idiot, wasn't he?” “Well, it is rather balloony, I confess. When man talks in that way he doesa’t say any- thing and he doesn’t think. He only gropes and fumbies.” “He isn't quite so clear as Herbert Spencer, is he? You ought just once to hear Spencer lay on the jewsharp and mouth organ. The st time I was over in London I went to see Mr. Spencer and found him in his study with the score of Beethoven's Seventh Symphony before him. He was playing it on a jewsharp, while the tears were coursing down his emaci- ated face like rain. He told me, when he bad become himself again, that Beethoven always affected him as the greatest illustration of the doctrine that truth is the agreement between the objective order of phenomena and the sub- Jective order of thonght. Then he talked about e Andaman Islanders, Maoris, chipmunks, billiards, the great nebula in Orion, cheese, evolution among the Antilles and ‘the re- lation of, soft soap to the Home, after, the time of the Antonines, en he wandere: to bagpipes as weapons of defense among the sooinh highlanders; Luther in his relation to the Erasmian ‘Praise of Folly; Rabelais as ® perverter of youth; collies; the great ice age and its relation to roller ‘skates; Angora goats; the invention of gunpowder; Heinrich Heine; Katzenjammer and the Renaissance. Then he went back again to his jewsharp and played me the whole of Opus X on it till there was hardly a dry oye in my face. It must be a fine thing to be 80 great ‘and many-sided a man as Herbert Spencer and to be able to answer so many questions ‘and settle so many controversies as he can.” ewer to my question about why “I suppose,” said the man, “that some time you will be coming into my studio. and. asking imo why men ask questions. A little while ago you told me that Shelley was ballooney. If you, es to observe ani ynder upon my reply to that objectionable statement ‘ou will see one of the great necessities of life. ‘4 man isa balloon you have to fill him with ly thing Iknow of with which you can fill a balloon. It is what bal- loons were made for. Before you go, however, there are several things that I might quote to you, and into them I would put nothing of my- Then there with ‘La Belle Sans Merci.’ If it is reams you are after you must go to the ters, all who live and feel in art. You must never go to the scientific men. You want Corot; you must have Michael ; You crave the’ in- i the man who was wound y Dame you Thad buts dim candle to hold | °° Steamboat r. NEVER COULD SEE ANY PARTICULAR “Do i word, sah! If “Do you . sib ras Secs St any one you may name!” “Oh, no boat: were doubt no, no, 1 I don’t, question hair your word inthe least Tt was ahhot ght" “Tt was, mand of the fifteen T had com: ‘on, major. “I was on the Beauregard. We sunk three of your craft and then struck s enag and went lown ourselves.” “But Porter says the Union ram Monarch the Beauregard and sent her to the call on Col. Hicks!” and handed whisky. blu over thar’?” pleasant] queried the major as he sat down. me “Well, I bad a battery of ten guns thar’ for several months, and it was my own eye which sighted the gan that blew up the Yankee gun boat Mound City, Sad affair that, but war is war, you know. ‘The shell which entered ber furnace and exploded resulted in the death of men,” “Lot's see, major? If I remember aright the Mound City disaster occurred at St. Char! ‘his | on, she White river. ‘And the shell exploded in her steam chest.” gg the killed and injured numbered only “Sam! You seem to doubt my word andI ote eT aor 't, major! Let beg of bes, ! but nt jor! me ofyou to believe that don’t! I was simply wonder- les Porter could make in his history.” “Porter, aah? Never heard of Mistah Porter in my life, In the commissary department, I Pemannged to change the subject after ite, ° wu little, and byand by the major went to sleep in his chair, and I got away from him until evening. Then, as Isat smoking, he dropped into the chair beside me and “Sorry. He'd have probably told you about the battle on the river above New Orleans.” ere you there?’ “That is, you were there, of course. What command did you have?” “Commanded the confederate navy, of co'se.” “Youdid! Why, I thought Commodore John K. Mitchell commanded there. heab, sah—do youdoub: my word!” “Oh! no, no, major! How can I? You were there, and I wasn't. T have often read of the ironclad Louisiana of that fleet.” “She steered her was fing ship, sab. I While che tamed and wank six of Mistah Far- rut's vessels." “Is it possible! she did not e river and Why, Porter sa} even gun, but drifted down ! Porter, sah! Will your friend Mistah Porter act for you in this emergency?” de- manded the major, as he jumped up. “Sit down, major, please sit down! has evidently by sectional valars."* But he went away andI did not see himagain until next morning. Then he came to me just as we were passing an island and said: “Thad one of the hottest fights of the war on that island. I had two regiments of cay- alry under me, and we whipped a Yankee gun boat fair and square and captured her. “Indeed! Well, you hustled around a good deal. You were «’ commodore, a commander, a general of ii rary Gee a general of cavalry.” “Sah, my triend,the chief clerk, is now in his office. gore, I Noerirsiened to Apes him. Your — nough forme. I suppose you ran the cont erate ram Arkansas.”"? 4s ilt her, sab.’ Porter rong or was actuated got it - give me the par- gun boats thar.’ nay, Sane ‘scurious. Porter says that the “Sah ! “And that her first fight occurred as she came down that stream and continued on to ViEMTy cok, sab! My the chief clerk, bs . ! ly frien will act for me in this at “Yes, I know, but it’s curious hop Porter could be so mistaken, “Mistah 'Porter—Mistah Porter. Nevah heard of eee befo,” sah. Army con- : tractor, probably.” “He says the Arkansas was commanded by nay Ligut. Brown, of the old ry on this boat?” = <Hyillhe meet us at New Orleans?” 0, “Then, sah, I will recommend you to may friend, the cat lark, who wil be plessod No, no, no!_ How could I?” iend, sah, and the sooner it's over wont in and sew the chief clerk and told him that I had been challenged to fight a duel by his friend. “Tell him to go to grass,” he “But hehe ses” Sr” be replied. ““He waan't five years old when the war broke out. Mar in America. The you nook be aftaid afta nesting oe ee ‘How She Mer Wants. ‘From the New York World. A charming woman in the habit of entertain- ing » great deal said the other day, “When I want anything very, very much I give a party.” “What in the world do you mean?” saked she to whom the remark was made. “ He u § i i f tt ft ii if Hi i i i i i et i i Es 7 Le re apie 2° so many blunders | and details. You have questioned my | hasn’ MR. BOWSER REGENERATE. Remarkable Good Nature. ‘From the Detroit Free Press. It has been a fortnight of surprise to me, and I hardly expect the public to believe what I am adont to relate. ‘The other morning as we were seated Mr. Bowser suddenly observed: “Tou don't look exactly well, Mrs. Bowser, and it bas worried me for the last three or four days. Are you ailing?” “It's that—that same tooth, you know,” I re- plied. “I think the filling will have to come anything make one miserable it's the toothache. I'll go down with you this afternoon if you wish.” Ninety-nine times out of a andred his reply would have been: “Toothaching eh? Weill, if you don't know any better than to get your feet wet or to sit in a draft you must take the consequences. Tve got sixteen holiow teeth and yet none of them ever ache.” Mr. Bowser's kindness and solicitude sur- prised me and touched my heart, but there ‘was more tocome. When he was ready to go downtown he asked: “Anything I can send up from the drug store? No? Well, r make up your mind to go down to the dentist's this Pr seni My! but how that boy of ours does grow! And, say, I have been watching him for the past few days, and I must praise you for the tidy manner in which you and for his respectful and on manners. So long, little one—home vi” Well, I stood and looked after him, and then Isat down and stared at the wall, and then I tumbled on the I and began to boo-hoo i bad her first beau. The cook came in and caught me ai dais her hands to heaven, she exclait ‘J ‘Pigs and pipers! but he’s been walking all pond ane on oop If I bad such a husband I'd put rate in his bed!” Tt was no use to tell her that I was crying be- cause Mr. Bowser had not walked all over me, and she withdrew declaring that she almost felt it her duty to mix rough on rats with his pudding. Ins day or two there was another surprise. At noon Mr. Bowser observed: ing rot baven't Veen out of the house an even- lor two weeks. pose we to theater tonight?” Sa * I looked at him in wonder. “It's a play I know we shail both enjoy, and we'll take “Do you mean that we shall all go—go— “Go to the theater, Mrs. Bowser. Just make meuts accordingly.” ‘hen he had gone I stood up and shed tea Then [ sat down and cried. Then I fell ov on the lounge and indulged in some more boo- hoo, and Ihadn't got through when the lady next door ran anerrand aud caught me, exclaimed. ‘Mrs. Bowser, I wouldn't stand it another day! T'd get up and assert my independence, even if Thad to go out and do washing at 50 centsaday! The idea of that man sitting down ou you in the way he does is something shameful” We went to the theater and Mr. Bowser praised the play, the actors, the house and ‘everything else. He even permitted five diffe ent men, who had forgotten to bring their beer in bottles, to get up and crowd past us three different times to go outand guzzle. On the way home seventy-nine of us were packed it one street car, because the company bad no oil to grease the wheels of any more. I expected that Mr. Bowser would exclaim, explode and inveigh, and end by calling upon everybody who preferred death to tyranny to leave ti car, but he didn’t. On the contrary, he seemed toenjoy the crush. They trod on his toes, rubbed the hind buttons off his coat, jammed his hat over his eyes and elbowed his ribs, and yet Mr. Bowser smiled and remarked: “Rather tight quarters, but if we all preserve gur good nature we shall’ pull. through all —< lay awake more than two hours that muzzled and mystified and wondering if weer contemplated suicide or was goi crazy. I finally decided that he was all right | All husbands run in streaks, like pork, and this happened to be the beginning of anew one. Tdidn't know whether the end was reached of | not and was, therefore, somewhat anxious the next morning. Imagine my surprise after breakfast, when Mr. — said: “You were 8) ing about anew carpet for the front chamber.” Better run’ down’ this morning and pick out something.” “But you—you——”" “Ob, T'll trust it all to yon. There isn'ta woman in the town with a better eye for colors r. yourself and you will please me. | I looked after him with open month as he went away, and I stood staring so long that Harry came and pulled at me aud called: “Ma! ma! Do you think papa is going oraz, Well, I had to sit down and cry, and just as T had reached the boo-hoo part of the perform- ance in came the cook to know whether she should stew or bake the chicken. She caught me fairly, and, standing before me with arms akimbo, she exclaimed: “And he’s been walking all over you again! Mrs. Bowser, why don’t you appeal to the po- call the patrol wagon ! That evening, after supper, Mr. Bowser laid dows his paper and eid: “Come, let's have a game of eucher.” “Oh Fer not much of a player, but TM & . m not much of a yer, but io the best I can.” : Iwas in drend of an explosion when I won the first game, and I noticed that cook ted herself in the back hall to be on hand in case foul play was attem) but Mr. Bowser indulged in a hearty laugh and said: “You were too many for me that time, old To my surprise as we played on he did not contend that the queen of hearts was higher than the ace of spades as an “off” card or that the jack of hearts could take the jack of dia- monds when clubs were trump. He even let me take ht bower with the joker without calling, me s fraud, and when Tad won five straight ‘games he’ pushed. back with a laugh and said: “First time wo have an hour tospare I'll have you teach me how to play eucher. Better ar- Tange to haves little card party some night this week. ‘They are very pleasant and I'll do all I can to make go pleasantly.” ‘That was three days ago, and Mr. Bowser rt “backalid” yet, On’ the contrary be is ‘3 tter anc iter e' ‘y. Conk coms. upstaize thle eto “T'Il tell you just what it i whole caboodle of ’em goes bi One dav they walk on you, and -Democrat. “The rejection by the House of Representa- tives of the Senate bill for the relief of the offi- cers and crew of the Tallapoosa for loss of their effects when the old craft went to the bottom in 18%,” said a retired naval officer, “recalls « Journal. In one of the tropical green houses at the Harvard Botanic Garden in Cambridge may raolenprcted.terpeos tag beapad cave ne plant, which fs technically and harmony. Just get something to please | lice? If you say so I'll go right out now aud | had | trip, while the great host of minor writersappear THE GREATEST RUSSIAN. ‘Next to the Cuar Stands Father Joha—A Very From the London Times. Two jubilee celebrations have recently st- tracted attention in Russia—one the centennial anniversary of the storming and capture of the ‘Turkish fortress of Iamail on the Danube under Souvaroff and the other the thirty-fifth anni- : | Sersary of the entry imto the orthodox ministry Young man—There, that's done for! Now | of Father Joln Sergeyeff, one of the most re- there's nothing left but to send myself to eter- | markable and popular men in the Rossian em- nal smash (throwing down hat and stick). It) pire. It meds no comments to explain the pa- takes ‘a woman to knock the bottom oat of triotic outpourings of the Russians over the everything—woman! Girl—bah! What have | historic siege and savage reduction of Ismail, Years got to do with it? For pure mischief | but of the celebration in honor of Father John sive me a bud of eighteen; that's before the | of Cronstadt there is much to relate that is wrinkles begin to tell tales out of school (gets | Strange and interestiug. into easy coat and throws himself into arm-| Father Ivan or John of Cronstadt, known ‘and revered in every nook and corner of Rusda, bas hitherto been almost entirely unknown to | English readers; but « circumstance just re- | ported by the British che as Ooreonaes influence chareb Two PHOTOGRAPHS. He Wee e Bachelor and She « Pretty Girl. a fire smokes, turns P, lamp emokes, pause). See here, my boy won't do, you're not going to iall you you kn tomy this self, of the Russian has at last found ite way even into the United 14 lot me | Kingdom. A short time ago a letter reached the t British clergrman in Cronstadt addressed in could not say an ugly by, Jove, words fomented over night. (Vindictively) Some day that “bewitching curve” will be an ugly wrinkle—I suppose you think that time is going to be as patient as I we came from a correspondent in County Kerrs, Ireland, aud earnestly for the prayers of Father John on bebalf of the writer, who ap- peated to be. in great distress of mind and jbody. His letter is being translated and will | be forwarded to the reverend This is a curious proof of the infivence and reputation of this wonderful man, who, in the midst of his Russian surroundings, ecems to approach as nearly as any one perbaps could eye | iPinteed.s tres paveicin of the Goce is I don't blame you, mind, but I think your '* indeed, a true n Gosp own sex would have no more use for you if ¢*traordinary hesling powers, and the spiritual they knew how you gave them away. -Taik | 8nd bodily cures effected by the faithful accept- about men being “rough and bratal ance of his earnest consolations, are attested on Witness my own case, ‘This day at 5:80 T be-| Sil sides by many sorts and conditions of men. lieved that girls were sunny-hoarted creatures, | T° those who believe in Father John—and loving all women and a few men—one perhaps; ‘heir name is legion—the age of miracles is not at 545 sharp I knew all women hollow | Yet over. Crowds round him whenever hearts, and that all they cared for was to break be leaves his humble abode, and are happy if @ man and count the pieces. And these things | - & only touch the hem of his were unfolded to me by # delicate little crea- | FD. Father Jon's life is one of uninterrupted Sau Sk sightean. | and self-eacrificing charity and Christan tain- |, (The fire blazes up, young man sinks deeper ‘stration among the poor, the sick and needy, | tute erun-chele.) not, however, refsuing his presence and prayers It is rather jolly to call one’s soul one's own %0 the well-to-do and rich, who send for him again. Now ican let my beard grow and wear | Wen all other help fails, and never in vain, a'yellow tie. She hada way of smoothing me | {rom all parte of the country. He has no vast down as though she were iy sister. Wemen | Pusiness organization of charity and no cors- are all very fine, but too much of a good thing. | bantic Christianity like “Gen.” Booth and no Woices heard’ singing in the distance. As Teligions (politics ‘ike Archbishop Nicanor of they draw nearer he rises, lettii hotograph A SOROS SES OF Sn por be ve ncgerny 1 oa joe | 4 iPrall direction be te eilie a liv oes? ee | ing in the humblest possible way. Steamboats | and trains in which be journeys to and fro on sae | his truly Christian work are with such (Bondots, wood fre, eof lights, comfort aa. | STUNG {hat the police have to protect him Uib, On couch before the fire pretty girl inat-| _ The report of his appearance in any bouse in titnde suggestive of complets repose.) | St Petersburg and the newsspreads like wild Pretty girl—Ilove to lie here thinking of | Sf¢—brings throngs of poor people running nothing st all; it is ach a rest not. to have, a ne Se aeaing eeteie on | idea in my head—just for once. (Clock strikes, | FE, & Ris basting premeen, tose pretty girl starts up and falls back with « sigh | Cele bls blessing or to implore his attendance of relief.) Goodness! I forgot—there is no | ** the sick beds of relatives or friends. need to resh down stairsand pretend te bein’ | He advocates no impracticable Christian the- terested in Greek and athietice = My pany | OFi¢s like Tolstot: his life ls one entirely of | brain bas been perfectly twisted ont of shape | Yorks and his influence for good amo: ~< tely. It's as bad as wearing tight chose, | #i8% Masses, who have not yet reached the state | this forcing ‘one's brain” into ther people's | Of C¥nical unbelief of the lower orders in other hobbies — countries, is greater, perhaps, than any other || Poor, kind, stupid men—I wonder if To hoaek ek have a glimmering of how you enn bore Sat Not | be festival in his honor at = that Jack bored. the much, He ben ea henge | island most difficult and inconvenient of access | sine that could sit and 160k at him while he | 1% Winter, was attended by great crowds of peo- | spouted Greek verse; the Greek pronunciation plc; rich nd poor, whe made their way across Fas so becoming to the shape of bis mouth. | py ic6 of the gulf to the isclated port from Bt. je had sich « handsome mouth, | Petersburg and other places. Thirty priests Teay, an though be were dead. Hen, | officiated at the church service on the occasion But T think bis ghost may walk, | #20 deputations from various benevolent and | (She gets up and moves about the room as | OWber societies including even. the bergars | though searching for something.) I wonder | Presented the reverend father with gifts | why men must “always ‘be whet they gall sig | YeF-bound Bibles and boly pictures.” The most (Be eal tomcat is sight of all was the of a small anh fommore Foor ack womne with Now, I enjoy a rest sometimes. Why, | * in her arms. An eye witness states that Hea potest whee Tag Sometimes. Why, | ‘he ctowd and Father Joka wore moved 60 lin the door bell. But with men it's dif-| t8"® At @ banquet in the evening, at which ferent, quite different; if they can't have | the governor and a Sdmiral of the port resided one they take another—but eternally Cte mon ts and moujicks sat cl Ui | drink to Joba. Strange. the way you girls mount your looks | | and ride them to death. (While tall: he a i: glass from bottle at his elbow and drinking slowly, lets the picture slip through hie fingers youever | | girls, girls, girls. That's why I feel no pang Se ee | when "people Poor fellow! how could | you?" Ymight aswell be “one” (Discovers | photograph of young man in scrap-backet) |KntTnew 1 badn't’burned you un (Takes | Photograpo near light and looks nt it criti- y.) Poor dear! you were handsome—but | what a chump rou were about paying compli- ments, You did say once that I might not be what is technically called well but that | Talwars looked perfection. What are you doing now? Pacing the streeta, | cursing fate. | Tknow—yon are in | fre is out, the lamp | leanin, ith and long life of Father ———_+0-+ —_____ SEVEN QUEER CHILDREN. Pecullarities of the Offepring of an Ordinary Father and Mother. From the Philadelphia Inquirer. People of Munson claim to have among them the queerest family as to physical peculiarity in the whole country. Jacob Hiers, a farmer in moderate circumstances, has seven children. The oldest is sixteen, a bright boy, but having thirteen fingers and thirteen toes—seven on one hand and six on the other, his toes being simi- larly divided. Next to him is another boy, four- teen years old. As long as this boy is quiet no ‘one would suppose he had any peculiarity, but ; the moment he his mouth to talk he loses all control of his hands, arms, feet and legs and they jerk and thrash and kick around as if they were hung on wires. The boy is as slow of speech as his limbs are | active, and in answering « simple question it is | no uncommon thing for his legs to have carried him a rod or more away before he is able to ar- ticulate yee or no. The boy dors not seem to | mind his affliction, and not ‘only does not hesi- tate to or try to when he is addressed, but is always ready to begin a conversation on the slightest excuse. He can be seen almost any day arguing with or explaining some points to some companion, who is kept constantly busy either in avoiding the involuntary kicks or blows of the bo: in following him subject. The third child is « girl, who is « hunchback ands dwarf. She is twelve years old. A boy next to her is deaf and dum! your dreary room; the is not lighted; you are Against the mantel-piece, your face uried in your hands—and you are feeling ter- ribly lonely. (A tear falls on the photograph.) What is 2 —why, I am 2] (Breaks down and begins to sob.) (Curtain.) serch. AAO Authors’ Blunders. From London Society. | Apart from natural objects of any descrip- | tion, what an abyss of blunders do the exacting rules of gramma~ plunge us into “Neither” and “nor” for instance. How absolutely un- | controllable some pens find these little words, | and what a tiresome trick they have of taking upon themselves pluralizi rties to which they have ‘ee rigs’ Coukeauny oo Ber ahat neither Tn not Gerald were’ ae | tospeak for some moments.” ve then, we suppose both of them “‘was” silent. One needs | npwtgthynonel teen: Seer ies creel o ey are eto deal with as those verbs to “lay” and to “die.” thors, otherwise irreproachable, frequently to give up wrestling with them, for we get a he- roine who bad. “laid” on the "sof an hour: & hero who “lies” his tired head; or an cimomatage ing how luminary is for love scenes, meditations, mur- dera,dec..the way in which people who introduce it persist in ignoring its natural movements is really most ungrateful. Thi quently confronted with “day-old tilver cres- cent moons, high up in the clear heavens’ when? Why, as soon as the sun has set? New a A Crying Need, as It Were. From the Philad:iphia Inquirer. When primitive man—he of the bone caverms and paleolithic implements—wisbed to sum- mon his retainers he stood up and howled for them. His descendants have sought out many inventions; they have devised the telegraph, fr i i i FL ei h i E i i 1 a ti if in the fi Ui I tt i! Ta a E j jo. f E i Hi t P Hl 4 I 3 it t Hi ki ti Hl ii i