Evening Star Newspaper, February 14, 1891, Page 10

10 AIDING NATURE. ered as msthetic in their tastes. ‘The art lays it down as incontrovertible good color is necessarily pensive and that the loveliest of all tones is that of melancholy. ened This may a ii a ail thinkable and many unth: Beautiful Women Should Be Adorned eae a aia . and chiffon make up weil for = young person, With Elegant Costumes. set off by afew violet. Or you may, if you sapiidaclemaiabend still linger in the twenties, select a crepe de —. ‘ > ‘a oq | chim a delicate shade of en, trimmit GOWNS FOR COMELY MATRONS | the'jodice with a. peach-tinted chiffon and the cose ae | bottom of the skirt with a ruche of the same ow They May Outshine the Younger Belles— ‘The Married Woman's Opportunities for Costumes for Revenge—Kecoming Ball Young Belles—Some of Fashion's Decrees. ‘Written for The Evening Star. (Copyruchted. OSITIVELY, IT I8 sometimes suid that it is reprehensible for woman to be thirty in this country and acrime for her to beforty. Men gray and bald have been known to be audacious enough to turn their backs on a glorious young mother of forty and pay court to her daughter. many successful dances recently where I have been delighted to note the triumph of the mar- ried woman of thirty. The toilets of one in particular have been altogether lovely, but I heard a chit of » girl say as her baby face went into the air: “I could have the gentlemen around me, too, ff you'd gi a thousand-dollar dress But she is mistaken. It really requires cer- tain maturity of figure to set off one of these @legant bali dresses, such, for instance, as_is fepresented im the first illustration. The basque and overskirt being of duchesse satin embroidere’ in dark blue, opening over a front of corn-colored crepe de chine, over a _maize- teffatas foundation having a flounce: Seeves of the crepe de chine and bodice also trimmed wi no jewelry, save the pearl lother-of-peatl spangles were used in the embroidery and on the sleeves with very fine effect. The front breadths of the over- akirt were lined with crepe de chine. THE MATRON'S REVENGE. Every age has its revenges, and the married woman of thirty-five to forty may lay the flat- tering unction to her soul that these rich and heavy materials, while the youn person must content herself with flimay and | sleazy _tulles, erepons, bengalines and oft diks. Late, too, is another ‘one of the married woman's revenges. She may revel in it. Its delicate web may trim her silk and satin skirt, ripple down the front of her corsage or bubbie over on the line of decolletage and at the sleeves. I saw one of our well-known married ladies, ly a few years ago a much feted society belle, attired in a sky blue \d around the cut- ‘These delicate webs have always A singular power of fascination over man as wel as woman, for scarcely less than a hundred Zfere ago the courtier was as particular about is lace jabot and cuffs as the most lace-loviny married woman of today. Who has not real of the great French writer, Buffon, who would not sit to work until fresh lace had been set in the sleeves of his coat? And who does not remember how in the romances of Dumas | the officers of the royal guard were accustomed to iture the soft leather of their boot tops with Venetian poiat lace? But I have dwelt long encugh on the glories of the married woman's costumes, and it be- hooves me to bear in mind that our queen is Kotuing countemve’ youth the kings coun outh in ‘ingdom fasbit ry aR BALL COSTUMES FOR THE YouNG. There is acharming variety and a great deal ef genuine beanty about the ball costumes of young people this season. One attracted my attention for its simplicity and exquisite air of Sinces—* very necessary quality in & costume lor @ young person. It was in w' az broidered with + Kj 3, the petals of which, however, were appliqued upon the material, si and if "a “delightfal character of freshness itness. | ganze was made over a Glace taffatas and the Vcut-cut was bordered with the daisies, and the slecves had two rows of the flowers—one at the elbrw where thi ended and other midway between «l andelbow. The ceinture was also of A PRETTY EFFect. The second illustration pictures a very pretty Dall dress for a young person ight yellow erepe made up over a yellow silk foundation and ve. of sleeve yulder But there have been | . | to admit the tip of the and relieve by a sash of soft silk in a zone. Among all these delicate shades ou often see ared surah faring ap on a tall on column of fire, and the ‘dark-eyed r seems to be perfectly conscious of the at her daintily clad sisters set off the richness of her toilet most admirably. SIMPLE BUT EFFECTIVE. The inst ball dress for a young person to which attention is called will be the remarka- | bly pretty costume represented by the Inst illustration. It may be made up in many different materials, either in one shade or in two tones, and the upper half of the bodice may be made of lace or crepe lisse. It looks charming in a pure white crepe, the sash being of some soft ‘There should be no atte to increase the effectiveness of this lovely li toilet by embroidery or flowers. It is perfect just as it is, and the narrow ribbon either in the same tone or of a derker hue gives it a fin- ish that cannot be heightened by other garni- ture. Always bear in mind that it is not a question of how much ornament a young gir iress will bear, but how little will produce thi best effect. Simplicity must not be sacrificed. The rose would net be improved by giving it the black spote of the tiger lly or the gaudy stripes of the tulip. And, above all, i should be invited to a white dance or a pink dance or a blue dance don't commit the egre- gious error of attiring yourself in a figured, embroidered or ornamented material of the tone indicated in your invitation. It is abso- lutely necessary thst your dress should be ina plain material and that the flowers carried by you be in exact harmony with your gown. CHARMING COLLARS. I mustn't neglect to call your attention to the charming collars now worn with indoor costumes at afternoon teas, receptions and lit- erary soirees. These are made up in all styles and materials. One isin white gauze, sailor style behind and graduated to a long point in frout, trimmed entirely around with Chantilly lace, gathered on the ganze and expanding into a large cluster in frost and set off by a bow of ivory ribbon. Another consists of a yellow satin ribbon ran with gold threads with nar- row lace laid upon it. Still another is made of an embroidered pointed yoke and straight collar set around with a broad rafile of crepe de chine in large gathers and still another con- sists of a broad turn-down collar of flowered ilk with a jabot of the same material. ‘THE FAVORITE FLOWER. The favorite natural flower of the moment is the violet. You can’t use it amiss, no matter where you put it. The only difficulty is to get it, fora sizable bunch costs a dollar net. It can stand any degree of cold above the freezing point, and the only test needed is to glance at the streets and see whether there are any signs of thawing. ‘This little flower, which distils an | aroma of indeseribable deli rfume as fascinating as it is delicate—is worn by some at the throat, by others as a copsage bouquet, by others on the shoulder, by others still tied to the fan or pinned on the inuff. It is likewise a great favorite for garnituring ball dresses, little tufts of the flower being set upon long stems to make up a garland, and small bouquets of the | natural flower being pinned here and there, as fancy may dictate, not forgetting to ornament | your fan’ with a’ ribbon and bow, to which a bunch, artificial or natural, has been affixed. And, speaking of fans, I may add that fans for i costumes are of hand-painted gauze with flower borders. ‘What Dew Is. John Aitken, F.R.S., of Falkirk, says a writer in Longman’s Magazine, has conclusivel; proved that what has been so long called dewis merely the exudation of the watery juices of the healthy vegetation. In the course of hi painstaking investigation—only equaled by his devotion to science in the matter of dust and the counting of dust particles, with which he is now occupied at Hyeres—he selected a small turf, placed it over @ giass receiver and left it till drops were excreted. Removing the receiver he selected a blade having a drop attached to it. | He dried this blade and inserted its tip into a small glass receiver, so as to isolate it from the damp air of the larger receiver. ‘The open end of the small receiver was closed by means of a very thin plate of metal cemented to it. In the enter of this plate was pierced small opening, de: but the opening was then carefully made air tight by means of an india-rubber solution. After a time, though | this blade was thoroughly isolated, he saw that | a drop was formed on the tip; of the same size as the drops formed on the blade uncer the large | teceiver. “He, of course, was entitled to con- clude that the drops on the outside blades, as well as on the isolated blad | from the plant and not extracted from the air. | What has been for centuries called dew is, there- | fore, not dew atall, but the watery juices of | healthy plants. But look over dead leaves and you see a fine pearly luster—that is dew. Dead | matter gots equally wet where equally exposed, | and the moisture does not collect on it in regu- | larly placed drops, as it does on ts. If | radiation continues after the sap drops have | been forming for some time the dew makes ite appearance all over the surface. But true dew | is of rarer occurrence than one would expect. On many nights on which grass gets wet no | true dew is deposited on it and on all nights when growth is healthy the exuded drops always appear before the true, and the false dew can be easily detected. The moisture exuded by the grass—false dew—is always isolated at ints situated near tips ‘of the blades, were really exuded forming drops of some size, whereas true dew | 4! collects evenly all over the blades. A glance discerns the pearly luster of the dewy film from the glistening diamond drops of the healthy plant's juices. The Listencr observed a very cdrious and in- teresting thing the other night. He had occa- sion to wait for an evening train in the Colum- canon of that all {| ofthat. ‘The names of those people who have LENT HAS COME. Maidens Give Up Dances and Take Demurely to Sewing Circles. SOCIETY'S RESTING SPELL The Diversions of the Seasen—How They Sometimes End in an Involuntary Dance— Promotes Cupid's Designs. 7 AST TUESDAY NIGHT, OR TO BE MORE accurate, last Wednesday morning, the following dialogue was overheard. He was her into her carriage at about 2 o'clock in the morning, after » magnificent ball, and as he shook hands with her he said: “Well, good night, good night! It isn’t all over, is it? When can I see you again?” She smiled upon him sweetly. “‘Not for forty days. Good-bye.” “And what ate you gomg to do for forty days?” he said, as he held the carriage door open, waiting for her answer. “Iam going to—,” she hesitated » moment and then waved her band lightly to him. “I am going—to sleep!" He shut the carriage door with a bang, bowed, took out a cigar, lit it and walked home rumin- ating. What seemed to trouble him was that the Indy should have entirely forgotten thats forty day's sleop was out of the question, in view of the certainty that there would be a ball in the middle of Lent. Probably she did forget it, for it may be depended upon that no society girl would miss a mi-careme ball. Well, it’s all over for a while at any rate. Put up the fiddies, call in the French horn, let the rugs be laid upon the polished floor, choose an evening when you will always be ‘at home to your azrange a number of dinner par- ties and theater parties with supper afterward, goto church every day if you are an Episco- paslian or a Catholic and settle down for Lent. Such an existence, when compared with the life you have been leading until the past week, might, by comparison, be called sleep. REMINISCENT. It has been a jolly winter—there is no doubt given the jolliest parties might be given, if it were allowable to name names—as it isn’t. They might be printed in letters of gold, and those who have given only comparatively jolly arties might have their names in silver, and ten brass might stand for the people whose balls have been failures. There wouldn't be a long list of the failures, however. The youn, people of this town carry a good time wil them. Here is what a Washington lady once said on this subject: “I never hear my daughter say she had a stupid time at a party without thinking how much she must have contributed to the stupid- ‘That is the point. If you go toa party in a bad humor you wili come away and ay it was estupid party. Did you ever reflect that you made it so? ‘Fhe man who won't be happy is a mill-stone around the necks of happier people. and sooner or later he will drag them down to his miserable level. He ought to be put out and told to go home. In the same way that morose girl who won't enjoy herself oughi to be put out of sight. Her glum, cold countenance congeals the champagne and freezes the mar- row in a terrapin’s bones. Now, sleep and retirement for Lent are all very well, but they are merely the impulsive- ness that seizes upon people who have been over gay—a sort of reaction, as it were, and a reaction that never lasts very long. elf it were allowable to compare so innocent a pleasure as going to balls and parties with so pernicious a custom as regular drinking it might be said that a person once addicted to society never voluntarily gives it up any more than a hard drinker ever gives up his drama. A society woman may abstain from going out for awhile Just as the drinker may swear off for a month or 40, but the ruling passion is pretty apt to return in one shape or another. 'Vherefore it happens that when Lent begins everything is quiet for s time, but soon entertainments gin again in a modified Lenten form. THE SEWING CIRCLES, There are those sewing circles, for example. Can anything be said against the pious custom of young ladies coming together for the pur- pose of making clothes for the poor children of this country or of foreign lands? Such sweet garments as are made, too! So appropriate ‘and so skillfully manufactured are these clothes that one cannot help wishing that he lived in an orphan asylum himeelf. A piece of cloth that bas been fashioned into a loose body or bosom or seat by one young lady is handed over to another, who inserts into two holes that have been provided for the purpose a couple of sleeves or receptacles for legs. The little In- dian or orphan or Hottentot, as the case may be, can take his choice whether he will use the article of apparel as a coat or a pair of trousers. The poor unfortunates are, as every one knows, sometimes deformed, and ‘these are iy provided for by Lenten sewing circles, for one leg or sleeve is often half « foot shorter other. Then there are those dear kets that they make, all covered ith braid and having the dearest ligtl tails attached to them, just like young men’s cutaway coats. These are not, as an ignorant person might suppose, manufactured for the monkeys of Italian organ grinders, although they have sometimes been coveted by those gentry, as the following trae story will illus- trate: One of Signor Crispi's compatriots was per- forming the novel strains of Strauss’ waltz, “The Beautiful Blue Danube,” in front of a fine house on K street last spring while a sew- ing circle for the benefit of the little Sioux Indians was in progress. Jocko, his monkey, impelled by curiosity, had climbed a tree box and peered into the front parlor window. He was observed presently to give manifestations of the liveliest pleasure and rushing down to his master perched upon his shoulders and chat- tered vigorously. His derstand, for when one of the young ladies ad- vanced with the garment she was sewing in her hand and opened the window to throw out some small cl e the Italian and Jocko took off heir hats simultaneously. money ‘for Jocko! Le ive Jocko the it that the covetous idn’t get the coat. It was sent to little Sioux Indian, who wore it and was christened Little-Boy-in-e-Monkey- Jacket in consequence. Neverthelows the Lenten. sewing circle is an excellent thing. It gives the ladies something ity for the men, master seemed to un-| be: ‘Waiting at the Church Porch—How Leat| (i's City The Rev. Frank D. Altman of the Lutheran Church preached upon “The Modern Dance” last evening. He chose his text from Eeclesi- astes, ili:¢ “And a time to dance.” Ho said: “In the early ages the dance was de- vout, appearing in the garb of religion as the minister of God. The Hebrews were accus- tomed to express their religious joy and emo- tion in its rhythmic movements. As a religious ceremony the dance is recognized in the Serip- tures, but asa social amusement it is nowhere approved. So completely has the dance changed from its ancient religious character that the church now recognizes it as one of its most dangerous foes. All who wish to main- tain a godly life are warned against ite insidi- ous charms. “The Roman Catholic church has been driven by the observed evil influences of the dance to forbid it in many of its popular forms. The Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, and, indeed, all evangelical churches, give their testimony to the perils to vital godliness lurking in the surroundings of the social dance. Al are not equally dangerous to good mora ‘The dance in the home under the eye of par- ents and friends, select company, may be con- sidered less injurious than the public hall. And yet the dance is condemed without excep- tion. If it shall ever appear that the dance leads as many people toward a godly life as it now leads from it the church will, no doub' withdraw its protest, but while the drift is away from God toward the world and sin that protest must stand. “The dance is unfavorable to intellectual and social development. ‘The love and practice of this fascinating amusement supplants and de- stroye the love of solid atady, good reading, in telligent conversation and the higher and bet- ter forms of social intercourse. Studies in school are neglected, solid reading is aban- doned, the growth ‘and development of the nobler powers are stopped and life becomes a euccession of frothy, unsubstantial sensations and excitements. There is neither time nor dis- position left for the best work of life. Bring together a company of people accustomed to spend their time in dancing and attempt to en- gage them in intelligent conversation and the mental vacancy will be apparent. An intelli- gent lady said toa minister on this subject: But what ‘can Ido with my company! The people of fashionable society do not read, they are not capable of sustaining an interesting conversation and there is no way of entertain- ing them but by letting them dance.’ This dif- ficulty no doubt exists. People usually find their highest joy in the exercise of the est faculty, and if a novel-reading, theate going, (du idle, PI rought toy ensed with rather than their heads. of . The dance has a e place in his- fee te the, work of, inaiviseal fecily and national Lacan ag Sy bankruptcy. It is in close alliance with the goddess fashion and vain for the bird that bas flown, the tailor may collect his accounts as best he may, while society wrings its demands from its victims. “Take the reports of one of our fashionable balls, as they may be found in thedaily papers, and study the question of expense. It discre Ite straightforward living. “It stimulates. the thirst for fashionable life for display, luxury and fast living, which wrecks more families morally and financially than anything. “The associations of the dance are evil. was nureed in the lap of the wine god, Bacchus; has kept company with the theater since they were children together 2,000 years ago. You may almost always find it ‘in the loitering laces of the novel reading. the wine and beer inking, the profane and licentious classes, but rarely may it be séen in the assemblies of earnest students, t thinkers or devout Christians. If wo Judge it by the company it feel like introducing ughers to its acquaintance. 'The best people in society do not dance, and for the reason that they think it unworthy of them. In. the lowest and vilest grades of so- ciety the dance is most populdr and most com- mon; as you rise in the grade of intelligence and moral excellence its popularity and use decline, till you reach # point where it disap- wre altogether. “It is unfavorable to the right relation of the sexes, It requires neither brains nor good morals to be a good dancer. In ancient times Alcohol is the cer. the sexes danced seperately. irit of beverages. So sex is the spirit of the dance. Takeit away and let the sexes dance Separately and dancing will soon go out. of fashion. Parlor dancing is dangerous. Tip- pling leads to drunkenness and parlor dancing to 5 “The dance 1 destructive to Christian life, Many excellent people who are examples of the common virtues may dance, but the pray- erful Christian soon finds that be must choose tween the dance and his religious life: he cannot maintain both. ighteen hundred yenrs of Christian history have worked over and over many of the perplexing prob- Jems with but one result. Natural Gas Weather. “The natural gas theory?” laughingly said Charles J, Pierson of “Indiana in the New York Telegram. “Have you heard of that? Well, it is exciting a good deal of comment with us and I think deservedly so. You know that Indiana is now held responsible for the lack of cold winters in it and Chicago and along the Iower line of Michigan. ‘The theory is ieaply this: Underneath the localities mentioned there iss vast subterranean reservoir, in which the has been stored for ages past. ‘ou know that certain combinations of will make cold: ‘The gaswells of Richmond, Ind., give out over 15,000,000 fect of gas a day.” ‘This waste has been going on for years. This drain is thought to make a change in the climate of thove places above the wubterranoan reservoirs, notably Chicago and Detroit. You know it is'a source of constant remark in these cities that there are no more cold winters. How for me to say.” no men are me t i scene, put Trruction epen theese of heart. reeding y a the words hand and classes auae | | | H| S s A Hi H ike | it “The dance requires a wasteful expenditure | j far this theory is right in its conjectures is not speck UNCLE REMUS WAYS. ‘The Old Maa is Troubled About William ‘Benry, His Grandson. HOW LUCINDY TOOK UP WITH A HOTEL xTOGER AND THE RESULT#—RUINED BY TOWN IpEas— WILLIAM HENRY's ABSENCE FROM SCHOOL AND ‘WHAT CAUSED IT—THE OLD MAN PLACATED. « ited. Witten for-The Rvening Siar by Joel Chandler area. FEW DAYS AGO UNCLE REMUS WAS working in his Miss Sally's flower garden, spading up the beds and dividing and replant- ing bulbs. The lady, who takes great pride in her flowers and planta, was superintending the work. The old man was not in very talkative humor at arst, but bis humor changed when his Miss Sally began to inquire about his grand- son. “Wasn't he named William Henry?” she asked. “Yassum,” sald Uncle Remus, with a sigh, “dat what Lucindy call ‘im. I tuck’n tol’ ‘er den dat shé waz loadin’ ‘im down wid name, but dat ar nigger man what she cook en wash fer, he named ‘im atter some er his kin what bin in the chain gang. Ho bleeze ter bin in de chain gang, kaze he's a town nigger,‘en I ain't never is lay eyes on “im.” “Hovw.old is William Henry?" asked the lady. “Wellum,” said Uncle Remus, reflecting a little, “he wuz born endurin’ er de year when Marse John kicked up sech a racket kaze he had dat ar bile on de back er de neck.” “Let me soe,” said Miss Sally. “That was in 1878. William Henry must be thirteen years oa” “Yaesum, I is, [dunner what gwine ter cum artim raze Tucing done gone oa back on ‘er raisin’. I bin mighty worried "bout dat boy. My ole ‘oman say he take atter me. I ain't never see no mo’ liklier nigger dan what dat boy is, yit he sholy gwine to be ruint. Lu- cindy come to my house yistiddy seed William Henry, en I tol’ ’er y fer de chain gang. Den Lucin oof, ett he done make his. disap en she ain't never tell me ne to git mad.” Uncle Re- New Yous, Peb. 24, 1891. TX TRAINED LIONS ARE IDLE IN THEIR cage, awaiting shipment to Paris. That isa situation which they don't mind, for they are well fed and comfortably quartered any way. Sixty trained ballet girls are unemployed, too, but they do mind their plight, for they are not assured of bed or board. Both these parties of stage performers are thrown out of by the fact that Niblo's Garden Theater has come to the end of its long career. This oldest theater in New York city save one is not de- stroyed nor going to be soon; but the decision has been made today that the house shall no be longer used for what in the theatrical busi- ness are called “productions.” It will become instead a “combination” house, in which travel- ing companies will play engagements of a week or two. ventures, meant to occupy the stage for a good portion of the season, will not be undertaken. How much of a change and an abandonment this means may be. com) hended by recalling the fect that for more than a quarter of a century every winter season has witnessed at Niblo's one or more ular shows of the dimensions and most re- dent sightliness. It was here that “The " thad ite first memorable per- formance and many subsequent revivals; that the Lydia Thompson burlesques had their ear- snccesses; that a succession of scenic and achievements, too numerous for recapit- ulation here, has lasted until this week's decl- sion to use Niblo's for such ambitious put no more. financially disastrous failures with artistic successes havo settled the ques- tion. “Claudius Nero” early this season in costly that months of full, houses were neces- order to reach a ratisfactory profit. The ed lions were a feature, and, despite the almost invariable falsity of ‘theatrical (grithmetical ones, not human, I here mean), a = doubt that ———, and operator m used, and looked all around, in | of the lions got 9600 a week for their services. search of clue to some word or phrase by a — oa ha eter Fete et ce Oe escola alig | bankruptod the frm of Locked Doris, beside Salen any: Remceaee en weet Se entailing a heavy loss on E.G. Gilmore, the ‘What did you say to her?” asked Miss | lessee. With the ning of the new year e “The Babes in the Wood’ was placed on “Now, Miss Sally, you bin knowin’ me I embell the capacious stage, lavishly beyond nuff ter’ know purty well what I tol’ dat ite condition as performed in the west. The Mon, I gin ’er one er de ol’-timo “Nero” experience was duplicated. Great & grown married ‘oman, en got children yit, audiences were assembled for two weeks, but but I des grabbed up a brush broom, and I des | @fter that the attendance dwindled and last naturally Fatlea her out. Idid dat. En nex’ 1 iy nudge ee ; ‘ imneh, | unpaid and everybody a loser, That fime I nee 'er Tm gwine frail or ag int der | Hons and the ballet giris are idloand Niblo's is Sally,” the old man went on, “‘dat I tried ter | sbandoned asa place of Productions. raise’ dat ar gal right. All de time she staid ANOTHER KIND OF FAILURE. wid me en ‘er mammy, it look like butter won't | ‘That is merely a money matter after all, for melt in ’er mouf, but des ez soon ez she marry Niblo's Theater belongs to the enormous Stew- dat ar hotel nigger what w'ar streaked britches en astove pipe hat she look like she gwine ter | “tt estate and the managers of the place and run ‘stracted. En den, on top er dat, she tuck the two shows mentioned are wealthy, while en jinded deze yer Breedin' Dove on Rastiin’ | the lions and the ballet girls will get along well Jacob's 'sciety. it ain't gwine ter save dat | enough,no doubt. Butone failure, pul c] ind er nigger ‘oman, I don't keer ef she is of own danghter. Iain't hed no trouble wid de nigger man what marry 'er. Idone tol’ ‘im long ergo dat ef he cut any town shines wid me he gwine ter git hurted. -Streaked britches encalico shirts don't pass wid me. I git nuff er dem mos’ quick ez I does dat ar truck what Marse John stuck under my nove t’er day.” “Hartshorn,” suggested Miss Sally. : “Yassum, I speck so. She sholy is rank, mo’ speshually when she git in yo’ nose en up dar behime yo’ eye balls. Ef I'd been boun’ by law ter take one mo’ whiff er dat truck 'twould er bin good-bye Remus, sho. Miss Sally, Marse John gwine ter kill some er deze yer nigge projickin’ "roun’ dat way, en den hit'll be you kin do ter keep ‘im out'n de calaboose. “What is the matter with Lucindy?” asked Mise Sally, taking the old man back to his sub- rt. eo “Wellum, she done tetotally ruint wid deze yer town idees. De fus time I know'd ehe wine wrong she come ter my house one night wid dat hotel nigger er hern en some yuther gals. She come in de do’ a-gigglin’ en she up and ‘low, she did. ‘Howdy, popper!” Ilook at "or en say: ‘Which?’ Dent sho say: ‘Howdy. opper |” % en my cane en ‘low: Riko you foolin’ "long ‘on trifiin’ huzzy? Ef you dast ter come poppin’ me I'll pop you. Tilly you ont in de flo’. Ef I ain't yo" daddy Tain't no kin ter you.” Yassum, I said dem ve'y words.” “Dat de fus’ time,” the old_man continued, ‘dat I tuck notice she "uz gwine wrong. Den she tuck’n jinded dezo yer Breedin’ Dove en Rastlin’ Jacob s'ciety. m see tuck er notion dat she bleedze to sen’ William Henry to school—a great big boy like dat. But William Henry he bin stayin’ at my house mos’ much he is at home, en me en my ole ‘oman done Yarn ‘im some sense. Wid me, a nigger is done gradiywated de, minnit you puts de plough n =i in bia a ns, on ‘dat id ee lenry lenty big to be follerin’ de plough right now. Benex’ time I see Lueinds- loa he is right now!” exclaimed Uncle Remus. He bad caught sight of William Henry coming throngh the gate. ‘Come yer, you triflin’ rascal! en fetch dat ar bar'l “hoop wid you. Whar you bin? Don't you come walkin’ up yer wid Fo hat on, Fil jump on you, mon, én, trom ‘ou. Come yer, sub, en tell yo’ Miss Sally jowdy. Whar yo’ manners?” ‘m. Henry, an unusually bright and pleas- ant looking’ ‘negro boy, came up the walk, shining his white teeth and swinging himself with the vigor of youth. He wore on bis smiling face an expression of mingled intelli- gence, shrewdness and mischievousn “Howdy, Miss Sally; howdy daddy,” he said, exclaimed Uncle taking off his b You well ter say howdy, Remus, with » greet affectation of anger. ‘Yon win aay! yo" raves en think 70" stare dat Yo Mise Sally out yer whar sh ot kaze of I'bad you out by yo'se', Thay T'a bust you'wide open.» What ‘kinder way is diab yor ou got playin’ de runaway P *villing Henry swang kis hat from side to side and looked at everything in sight exce Unele Remus. Ho was evidently embarra Have you been running away, William Henry?” atked Miss Sally. “Yer'n,”aaid Wiliam Henry, boon sty ‘way fum my mammy an’ pappy, but I ai ton semit oop te Gla Bee know Iain't beou hidin' fom Lim," come I'm here ef I bin hidi Bal cor ten bones fect be uy er ni en ter Mise Baily when she ax you!” exclaimed Uncle Remus, “Mama considered this week, is a matter and death. ‘The gentlest, daintiest and most fi actress in our stock com nie Russell, is dying of an inc Perhaps the most memorable of her exquisite performances was that of Elaine, in a produe- tion of the Tennyson poem, and ner in which she pined and died ‘of her Launcelot was an ideal achievement. life Annio Russel is the wife of_ an ordinary, every day stage rand their apartmen sro ¢ curious ‘sthibition of the ‘bellsrehelter Bohemian life led | by | most _ theatrical No ion is meant. The young Seay. tems ae eae? ‘abatignes Tees when ahe impersonated Elaine she was marked for death, soon afterward she had to stop acting and now her days are numbered. It was w her earnest solicitation and after she had so well prepared herself in the role as to demon- strate how well she could doit, that the risk of placing so entirely literary a play on Tras tafen, Whom thowncocee hed boon achiovesy she told her friends that ber histrionic ambi tion was satisfied and that, even if she could eof Sir In real prover na big iway theater was crowded at a benefi en- tertainment given in her aid. The yield of money was sufticient to last her until she goes where money will not buy anything. SOCIAL ADVERTISEMENTS. ‘The booming of actors by means of social exploitation has reached a climax in disas- terand some time must necessarily elapse be- fore that method of advertising can be used in with any success in this city. The usual plan wasto giveasupper at the Lotus Club, ‘with the boomee as the guest an: Chaaneey Depew or some, other table celebrit as the chief orator. Each aitair of that kin we & news paragraph in ly piconet and the idea would be conveyed to the public that Mr. Shakespeare perform, bnt in the guise of «private lad; Nhe was so handsome in person and dress and #0 graceful in manner that all might have gone uietly well but fortworeasons. One was that the gentleman who stood sponsor for her, and who is financially interested in the resort where she dancer, received her at the entrance with a gift of flowers and s general showiness that constituted her at once the center and celebrity of the assemblage. ‘The way seemed clear to a valuable paragraphing -of Otero in the next morning’s papers. publication a second reason for # catastrophe arose. That night the notorious annual French was t i an’ tol’ me go school, ” said William Henry, ‘‘an’ che know alk satire of merrit Ben, poppy, be ay. T get to. go, ent be tok ant y an’ an’ wont’ wal ma. Do 'siggne aan whet woe teachin’, he gimme er book an’ tol’ me whar- bouts to setat. I sot dar Ee I fel rll if iF aks 5 F i Fg EG F 3 u be Fs it £ Z t i Gi F i t Ha eH f i Ht re Hl her it i i gs } me WBA! You bin since den?” waked ‘Unele Be- “I bin waitin’ in & bo'din’ house,” said the i . f He i Ht if F i un i E Ly aff é I vt i i i i 2 HH F rt An- le diseane. | jo, OL OF LANGUAGES, lard’ new. ak i i i ; B | i ih a Tae Frexca Voie. hat she has succeeded. jow comes singularity of the debut. Texarkansas has merely danced exceptional! well in the manner liked by Bowery andiences Later in the evening she fails quite as emphati- cally in me to introduce the Carmen. time her POR LADIES ONLY! SELECT PRIVATE MORNING CLASS. cita oddit 1232 SAS AVE” DRAWING AND PAINT 2 ine tart air tye F aarweir. eee ein HOW THEY REVENGED THEMSELVES. The prima donna of « well-known burlesque opera company arrived in New York a few days agoand went toa fashionable hotel in upper ——— A Broadway. She had two trunks, one being ON CONSERVATORY OF lapetc, rs ¥ large and the other exception: Siciim., fuite, "Frise savas ally ‘small. ‘The actress’ presence created Been ye win sensation the men in the hotel and every ‘among time she appeared in the corridors or parlors she was the cynosure of admiring eyer, She was proud and haughty in her beauty and none of the yearning men that watched her move- ments were able to attract from her so much ax & careless glance of recoguition. Finally a re- vulsion of feeling toward. the handsome per= former took possession of her slaves and ‘lis- ing remarks concerning her and er conduct were heard about ‘the house. On Sunday it. was learned that the lady was about to take her departu and it was resolved by a number of the men the hotel that a large company should be pres ent when she entered her carriage. The time came, and when the porters brought the very ‘and the very small trunk down to the sidewalk about twenty curious and idle gentle~ men were ranged about the entrance to watch the exit of the queen of burlesque. came, accompanied by her maid, and when she saw the crowd that had gathered to bid her good-bye she scornfally turned up her pretty nose and sailed toward the carriage door. On her way her eye fell on her two trunks and she stopped short, a flush of anger spring- ing to her chooks. On the vory small erunk was pasted a label covering all of one end of it, upon which, in large letters, was printed the | word “Costumes.” On the very lnrge trunk | Was another inbel bearing the. inscription, “Press Notices.” ‘The actress fnirly quivered with rage as she reelized that she hed been made the subject of ridicule, and as she ordered the porters to scrape the offensive labels from | _jaiv' im" her trunks, she cast a look of almost murderous | (VOLUNBTA GONSERYAT contempt upon the men that were enjoving her iS VESNSENS! discomfiture. Upon entering her carriage she | PIANO A SPECIALTY. found a note to her, reading as fol- | —" a re: |S Aeme Pi Tam a skillful diamond burg- | fciens'in tine Inr, making a specialty of relieving opera | hrired tock ladies of their jewels and having then re- | turned ten days after the theft, thus giving the opportunity for a double advertisement, My terms are very moderato and I guaranteo at least a balf colnmn notice in four of the New York newspapers, preventing no. bill in event of failing in this.’ ‘Knowing that it bas now been more than six months since you last j lost your diamonds am hopeful that you may deem it wise to omploy me tn performing the little business at an early date. Yours respectfully, Ronerr, Tae Rozper. The very inconsiderate and impolite men who were the authors of all this ridicule now flatter themselves that they gave the burlesque actress a deserved lesson in manners. They are joyful in the thought that they succeeded in making her one of the most angry women in existence. doin at once. Ce tes 188 MSS PEEBLES AND Mies TH >MPSO! OL, FOR orf angie ork. Suite whose early eden iciected Preparation for collage, Weat nt, Anapolis and ail examinations. iar Wo PLY am, 1 UATE OF m Chareh, our iatoruution . referee Address 1118 10th st. a... or call UAMANTEE TO TEACH ANY ONE TOD life-size crayon portrait in US lessons. TMT Mel ROL Bes arse DRAW A No know Jeserus dey and event O08 Fst. now N's BUSINESS COLLRG! STARIN lke SE Full business course, @5 per imonth, JONtS: Gay abd even semions, privat ~ © Hon cy ior ctv : vethiod of rata ‘advance vic few Ntorhand Dear Miss. La.ave. opposite city post office, Gives the Dest Lvusitiess Cratming tn tle w cipal being joint wuthor of the systen: w the only the World's F courses ; Land atid 1) pewritinx 0 4a) Situations (or catalogue. i ©. URNER, A. M..C. | 85 SUSAN ANDREWS RICE, al Culture. OF PIANO, ORGAN Particular attention te be- thome wishing to be qualified for 2th st. aw. well as SS AMY ©. LEA M eee A Slight Mistake. QPENCERIAN BUY From Londoa Moonshine. a Corner A fond father, blessed with eleven children | Se*sons of the new your bein and a very domestic man, tells this story: Kehool of Business, Accounts and One afternoon, business being very dull, he ee SE mentary took the early train back to his bappy home, | $<}! of Rhorthana. and after a timeslipped upstairs to help put the | Selool of Mechanical and Architectural Drawing. children to bed. Being missed soon, his wife | fue {cil nervice Lain, rates. Day went up to see what was going on. Uponopen- | $%¢ uixht sessions. Write or cail for illustrated as- ing the nursery door she exclaimed: HENRY C. SPE! B.. - “Why, dear, what in the world are you! a2 Mis SAia'n SPPACIC Vie reotpal_ ? ] smo, JBC ISL 1 ST. Nw hy, wifey,” sid he, Ts, Intermediate and igh Schoo! fog t “T am putting the | FX¥S, il ‘ith fi c ghildren' to bed and hearing them say their | $5 pif ancl” Gas nae soiree itl es apt pl medic aateliead FT 185 BALCH?S CIVIL SERVICE INSTITUTE AXD ‘And he had to redress it and send it home. _| jurei'sunoufulls' for civil eenvies, ane tas J ORWOOD INSTITUTE, B WASHINGTON, D. ©. Belect Boarding and La ‘and Fonr commoaious connecting til founds Ever sppointuent ‘Yor | Course of study thorough and of hich wrade. Victims of Chess, From the New York Telegram. ‘The game of chess has many ardent wor- shippers. Some people are more than lovers of the game; they are its victims. Among the latter clase are three gentlemen who are well | fivj1ierccrird at Wellesley Colleor without examina known to the patrons of the Central railroad of | g,tiv/) "om,(Me cortutoats a Norwood dmeteruls New Jersey. This trio is composed of « youth, | thy wedi rn lanwuncrs & gentleman of about thirty-five years and an hk. AND D. CABELL, aged citizen with white hair anda flowing white beard. They may be seen any day on the early morning train from Plainfield, and are pointed Mammal set te Office hours 10 to 1 o'clock dally except Sundaya. "18 ‘Tax srniirz scnoo. oF Laxavaoes, until they separate with a courteous “ morning” to each other. They are entirely lost to the outside. ‘Their time on the train is en- tirely oceupied with several small sets of pocket | chess. They come in to Jersey City on the | same train every day, come across the river on the samo boat and walk up the south side of | Liberty street to Broadway, where - | ‘Their trip through the depot to the boat rocession. Their march | with measured tread in_ thought, is very solem: When they reach Broadway each goes respective way pondering over problems which have been presented. Branches New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Paris, Berlin, London, &e = CADEMY OF THE HOLY 1312 MASSA chusettsave., embraces thorough aud Beentin Course: and affords eve vantage in Lit erature, Music and Art. Piano, Harp, Violin, Guitar and Lessons given. General Vocal, Drawing aud Fancy Work tree. euler A Model of Manners.