Evening Star Newspaper, February 21, 1891, Page 12

12 SIGNS AND SIGN LORE. A Custom Derived From the Remotest Antiquity. MANY ODD ANNOUNCEMENTS. ‘The Swinging Sign Boards of Old London— Strange Combinations of English Ian Keep- ers—Rome and Pompeii—The Art of Sign Making in Washington. ‘Written for The Evening Star. ning «cue your ears offend on ae. ORIGIN OF THE m of exhibiting in some visible ex- ponent of one’s business antiquity. Itisno violent supposition to imagine at brawny worker Cain, had » mer or other sugges- tive tool of his trade hung to his door post, that the wayfaring man, een though » fool, might | was devoted. In ancient Rome the insignia of trades and pro- fessions were common on the street. Fabius speaks of a tavern he frequented adorned with the sign of acock, and Pliny reintes a venera- ble bon mot, still extant in our own cural dis- triets. He says that there was certain prominent min RSme representing an old shepherd ith his staff. A German legate being asked how much he would be willing to give for this work of art replied disdainfuily that he wouldn't eare to have it as a gift, even if it were alive. ‘The ruins of Herculaneum and Pompeii farnish numerous specimens of Roman signs, usualiy mado of stone aud terra cptts, let into the sid of shop fronts. The asthe figure of mostly embiemati ona butcher's premises, A POMPEITAN DAIRY SIGN. Coming down to more modern times we find that great swinging signs had become such a nuisance in London in the fifteenth century hat an ordinance was passed that none should a to extend more than seven feet be- | nd the house walls. In 1619 the honse of mons proposed to raise half a million | ling. “with great ease to the subject.” as it | ig a tax on sign boards. | » it is not probable lettered matter was | representations, | wera,” as sign . had educatic nes of the objects th { Charles IT of creak- ed that curious craze in tions, which resulted in su pe B ian scholars have been ling plausible explana- the sign adopted bya tavern in Fleet street, London, in the seven- teenth century, is p2 al the most fa of this class, as it hb: pazaled wits aud writers of two centuries | toaccount for this queer | combination. The ent here given is a copy of an olf print of this monster. In 1762 an exhibition of sign boards was lield in London, the cata- logue of which is still extant, and a most amusing and interesting contribution it is to the art history of that period. The unique orthography that ‘ized these mens of the is an THE Ho tier. who quaint: red stripes ofieu at sc aiter the signs I observed in REVE TS aRMor. emarke: “I cousins across the sea includes an- boards. This was exemplified when pt was made in the early part of this ary by the ei es of Canterbury efligy of the fat which hung in front ad by there, so the legends nee the days of good Queen Bess and wever rickety a! langerous it had become mob assembled, resoived And so it did until : ‘was taken down by the town council at night to prevent the prob- able excitement among the citizens had they known im advance of the order for-its removal. FA ic: fifty years lat Although the vast ma- rity of the signs that English into the that they should, ould not go, were spoken of speare, yet great artists have not disdained to show their tale: i this direction. Wilson, R. A., George Morland, David Cox, Tobetson and Sir Chas. it is well estab-~ lave painted signs, and it ix maid that Milais once executed a St. George and the Dra- gon for an inn in Kent, and Paul Potter's mous “Young Bull” was originally painted as a sign for an Amsterdam butcher. Some of these artists could probably give the same explanation for doing this kind ‘of work as that furnished by anoted painter who was called to account by anobie patron for thus degrading his tal- ents. His only reply was: “The wolf, my iord, the wolf!" MODERN SION PAINTIXG. ‘The universal diffusion of education and the changes in fashions, manners and methods of business that mark the present era have elic- ited a corresponding reform ia sign paintin ‘The sign board of today. as produced by wa expert in his art, ix the ultimate development of the crude efforts of the old “dawbers” and equires almost as much skill to produce the highest effects of beauty and harmony of color end symmetrical disposition of the lettering as is needed in a first-class painting. Paris, as might expected, leads the world in this branch of art, and tory, poetry and romance are laid ‘under equtribution by her sign rs to add at tractiveness to the essentially commertial ua- ture of their work. In the boulevards the shop signs refer largely to some topic of current in- ye of them are rather comical, as that barber a an lene ex a with legend, “lei on Rajeunit.” restaurateur, desiring English and American custom, had under s notice of “Roof A-la-mode” the trans- lation in elegant script, “Fashionable Beef.” ofa the is hidden in the mists of | m: joaton the wailofa milk | | Apothecary.” efforts they make in adver ness. As to the best fo: we a wide difference of opinion. One artist asserts that plain gold letters on a black ground make the handsomest appropriate signs for almost any eas, and this style seems to be the But there are enough of other their own busi- of sign there will al- favorite he sorts to dispel any appearance of sameness in the mass of these indispensable adjuncts to t withi ae et the highest artistic displays, while ae out-of-the-way streeta afford some rare treats im the way of originality and illiteracy combined. ODD SIGNS IN THIS CITY. A unique specimen is the announcement out- side of a litule shop in the extreme end of South Washington, consisting of simply three oyster shells nailed toa board—expressive if simple. On H street not far from 9th a dealer, who has also presses his contempt for the ordinary ral composition in these succinct terms: | wood” and coal.” sign board announcing im bold and irrogula characters that ‘Sa be had within | distance informs the public that “cigars anc | tob. confectionary” sale.“ i | crabs” i common that it excites no remark. in an alley near the government printing office there used to be a board, over the door of a little tenement, that has acquired quite a na- | tional reputation. It bore the simple words | | “Goiu’ Out Whitewashin’ Don Hear.” The | printers coon “gut onto it,” and from them reached the newapaper ‘men and was made | | famous. Away up 7th street a gentleman in- terested in wearing apparel displays a huge | | tin fish in front of his place with the word | | “Clothing” painted on it. The natural if | violent inference might be that some kind of garment for either the finny tribe or anglers | was to be had there until it was discovered that | the proprictor’s name is “Fish.” There used j tobe on F street near the treasury a sample | | room with the odd name of ~The Office” em- | | blazoned over its portal. couvenience for — thirsty leould truthfully explain that they had |been in “The Office,” even if not at/ | their desks. it seems to have been modeled after a famous hostelry in Norwich known as owhere,” for the benefit of laggyard hns-| ds in answering their helpmeets’ inquiries. | | “The ‘hance saloon that used to flourish | on the avenue at the foot of the Capitel was an example of the fitness of things to thirsty souls, as on the reverse of the sign coming down the Lill appeared the words “The First Chance.” | Ithas disappeared in the march of improve- ments and bes left no — successor. Another old-timer on the avenue was a picture of the sun and under it the words “The best Miquors under the sun,” clearly an | on irom England, where devices of die hard. ‘The trite announcement used to be common in taverns and small ay today: we trust tomorrow.” seems of classic origin, for Fabius relates tiat a | wine shop in Rome bore the device of a cock, | with this inseription beneath it: “When the | cock crows credit will be given.” | A SIGN THAT USED TO BE POPULAR. The old changeable or dissolving sign that shows three different pictures or announce- ments according to the point of view, and was considered a wonderful piece of art in our fathers’ days, has almost entirely disuppeared. | ‘here is but one in this city. Up dstreet there | hus stood for these many years over a pharmacy | door a sign board inscribed “Druggist and | When twitted about the re- dundaney’ of this announcement, the pro- prietor, a well-r eplied: “A druggist wells : an apothecary compounds prescrip It was quite a| clerks, who tions. Ido both and I want the people to know it. On Louisiana avenue opposite Harris’ Theater is a relic of wae times in a queer-look- ing sign paiuted on the wall of one of the old bricks now occupied as commission houses. | The huge letters, blurred and defaced, cover- ing a space of iully thirty feet. look’ like a hieroglyphic puzzle from across the street, and it requires close examination to decipher them as proclaiming a business that flourished best when death reaped his greatest harvests. They have stood there over a quarter of a century and thousands of passers-by on the crowded avenue, from which they are. plainly visible, have thought “I wonder what that is, anyhow,” and gone on and forgotten it. As the inscri} tion is easily decipherable from the sidew: benenth it, in all its grisly suggestiveness of the old days of bloodshed and slaughter, it is left AND: LANG ON KIPLING. The Young Man Severely Scored and by an Englishman—The Author as Seen at Home. A compatriot of Rudyard Kipling, obviously Andrew Lang, thus takes him editorially to | teak in the London Daily News for his recently published articles on America: *ainpleanea with Mr. Rudyard Kipling is | America, He does not like its ways. He dis- approves of its hotet clerks. He is offended by its accent, especially by the accent of its women. He is disquieted by ite interviewers, and on that point we can only say that we are not sur- prised. But it is only fair to say that there are interviewers in other lands as well asin the American states, America may have had the odious distinction of inventing the interviewer, but other countries have had. the still more odious responsibility of adopting and national the conrage to operate the paint btush, ex- | izing and multiplying him. America may les of | have sinned by inventing him out of pure Feed- | lightness of heart, but surely the countries that Down near the wharves isa | forewarned, and {couraged lim to therefore forearmed, en- w and blossom and bourgeon and spread among them are more culpable still than even his Meediew inventors. However, we are not going to find fault with Mr. Kipling because he doos not like inter- viewers. He says they have no such news- aper tribe in India; but then, can it be that rr. Kipling never reads any of the Indian news- papert! Or can it bo thet in the Indian news- papers the editors invent the interviews with- out taking the trouble to send round the inter- | viewer to waylay his victim? If we cam trust the evidence of our eyes tho interviews do now and then appear in Indian newspapers, but perhaps Mr. Kipling’s point is that it would be more convenient to have the interviews pub- lished without having the interviewed put to the trouble of acall from the interviewer. ‘There certainly is something in that. ‘The American, Mr. Kipling says, has no lan- guage. “ie is’ dialect, slang, provincialism, accent and so forth.” Now that Mr. Kipling has heard American voices all_ the beauty of Bret Harte is ruined for him, He tinds himself entching through the roll of Bret Harte’s rhyth- mieal prose the cadence of Bret Inrte's pectiliar fathorland. It is rather a pity that a traveler should be eo curiously sensitive. It is rather a pity, too, that a traveler should beso general or so monotonous in his impressions. We do. not know how much of America Mr. Kipling has seen or heard, but he certainly writes abont accents ax if he was urtder the impres- sion that New York and Vermont give tongne and tone to America. ‘Get an American lady,” he eays, “to read to you ‘How Santa Claus Came to Simpson's Bar’ and see how much is, under her tongue, left of the beauty of the original.” An American lady? We are inclined to think thet such a reading, say by Miss Ada Rehan, would not be a bad thing to lis- ten to. There are soft, sweet voices of women along the Pacific slope, and there are musical tones in Virginia and’ enchanting accents in Louisiana. Not all the voices of Anglo-Indian women are like the voice of Cordelia, and there are doubtless English ladies whose reading from Shakespeare would be surely to the prejudice of the immortal bard in the ears of @ too sensi- tive listener. ADVICE OF DICKENS. If one is ina mood to find fault one finds reasons for fault finding. Djtkens strongly advised people never to travg¥with the precon- ideutly went to America with the conviction own deep in his soul, “How clever I am, and fuow funny every one else Hi himself is reasonable enough, but we distrust his estimate of every one else. Inacertain Bohemian club Mr. Kipling was told some good stories, specimens of which he reproduces Is it possible thut the little chest- being told? For they areas old as the hills from which the “Plain Tales” themselves have come. The tellers of the stories must have felt afearful joy when they found they had got hold of a young man fresh from India to whom these ancient narratives were new and amusing. Mr. Kipling, it is right to say, is grateful for the stories, even if he is not grateful for any- thing else in America. His books aro well ap- preciatedin the United States. He was recog- nized in America as soon or almost as soon as he was recognized here. It is certainly a sign and an evidence of Bis independence of char- without further explanation for the inspection of Te S7au readers interested. ————. ONE KIND OF TYPEWRITER. How the Family Gods Were Set Up in = Little Harlem Flat. Out on Broadway just now I saw a little girl that Ihave a big respect for, says e writer in the New York Herald. She isa typewriter, but she is not much like the kind the newspapers are always telling stories about, though, like them, she is pretty—as pretty as a picture and as good asif she were old and ugly. She is twenty-two, and let me tell you what she has done. Six years ago she was the most ragged, friend- less, ignorant little orphan you would care to hear of, and she had four younger sisters, each more ragged and friendléss and ignorant and orphaned than the other. She went into a | {YLewriting copying oftice to learn the business | ereturn for her services as office girl. She was such a bad speller that everybody said she would never make a typewriter. She set in to learn to spell. wns so shabby that the head | of the office said he was ashamed to send her on put she did her work so well that he concinded it would pay to spend «couple of dollars in fixing he: up. She made herself a skillful operstor,although to begin with she was uncommonly clumsy. ‘The fact was she had something else on her than finding a husband to support her. She was thinking about those four little sisters. They were living around with relatives,most of whom were very poor, and when they were not poor they were exceptionally cross and cruel to wake up. This iittie woman, call her Aunie if jou like, hadan ambition to be ® mother to those little sisters, A moi What she is now is mother, and father, too! ‘The first money she could serape together from her typewriting she «pent learning steuography. Ske could not afford all the les sons she needed, but she made it up in hard work by herself. She was not gifted with the aiitics for making the best stenographer— the best ones are born, uot mude—but she did | all she could and came out better than the average that do oiice work, and since that she has bad comparatively easy sailing. People had noticed her; she got a good posi- tion; not much money, as you count money, but enough to start her’ in “executing « long cherished plan, She got together those four sistera. She took alittle fat up town. She gathered them all in and told them they must live without furniture until they could buy it, not on the installment plan. In the meanwhile they would all have plenty of good food, such as they had not 1 before, because furniture is ® luxury, but good food is an investment for working girls. ‘Two of the girls were learning typewriting in the same way ae did. The two younger ones were in school. They camped along as best they could and were happy. That was a year and a half ago. Now three of them are earning good pay, as salaries go—there isa prejudice in that big office building where Annie isin favor of the family—one of the younger ones is learn- ing the business in the old way. Their home is as pretty « little place in its modest way as there is in Harlem, and their relatives are more helpful and kind than ever before—because nothing succeeds like success. And I call that young woman's suceess worth talking about. ———+eo-—__ Dida’t Want the Job. From the Indianapolis Journal. She let bim flounder along through his pro- posal until be said something about her being his “household angel through life.” Then she aaked as . x “At angels’ wages, I suppose?” “How is that? “My board and clothes. That is all the angels get, is it not?” ———_—_—_+ee______ A Sister's Duty. From Puck. ~ Miss Mittens—“What does this mean, Mr. Brotherton?” Mr. Brotherton—“These? Oh, these are just 8 few socks, underclothes and costs that need mending!” Miss Mittens—“But—?" therton— Mr. Bro’ “You promised to be sister last night, you know, und my sister” used to do all my mending before she wee married.” Beginning Work onthe main grounds of the world’s acter and the unpurchasable toughness of his judgment that he cannot be won over by mere Praite, If he does not like a lady's accent he untly says so, even though the tones that grated on hfs ears may have been raspin; out unmeasured eulogy of his Intest an his favorite masterpiece. The hotel clerk, whom he detests, may have observed to him: “Mr. Kipling, sir, I have read all your books. Mr. Kipling, sir, I know all your books backward.” Au ordinary author would perhaps be mollified a little, for the vanity of authorship is a common weakness in the tribe. But Mr. Kipling is not to be molli- fied in this way. He does not like the hotel clerk, and he thinks all hotel clerks are built the same way. He “goes for” the hotel clerk accordingly. Poor hotel clerks! We have heard, we have read, we have dreamed that some of ‘them ai remarkably civil and obliging persons. V have been told, or have read in romance, per- haps, of English travelers who have found much comfort in their American wanderings from the courtesy and kind attentivences of the hotel clerk. Sut there are hotel clerks of various kinds and there are travelers of various kinds. VIRTUE IX OUR SLANG. Mr. Kipling finds fault with the slang of America. There is no doubt a great deal of slang in America. But the one virtue of American slang is that itis an effert to find new and expressive phrases for new objects and new conditions of life. Our slang here i usually employed to give a second and what is supposed to be a comical name to somethin, which has already a well established an recognized name of it own. ‘This fact was jointed out and well illustrated by Bret larte years and years ago. We have a good deal of slang in England, and judging by Mr. Kipling’s novels they must have un immense amount of slang in the English society of In- dian regions. “Mr. Kipling’s latest’ novel, “The Light That Failed,” is a story of Fngland and is practically all slang. ‘Yhe men and women never for one sentence, never by any chance, talk pure English. The ‘whole conversation is & mere jargon which toa foreigner not well skilled in the English vernacular of duily life would be a hopeless puzzle out of which no dictionory could help him. Itis all very clever, very spirited, very much like the real English life of the clase the story describes and of to- and in its very realism an American might find the easiest answer to Mr. Kipling’s charge about the overdoing of slang in the United States. If Mr. Kipling’s dialogues were not true to life in certin English society then Mr. Kipling would be still entitled to find fault with the slang of certain American so¥iety. Butif Mr. Kipling’s English slang is genuine—and it is— why talk of America as if it were the one coun- try on the face of the earth from the lips of whose children comes forth the langnag: of slang? Some of the customs which Mr. Kipling Agscribes as still existing in America wore existing no doubt in the days of Mar- tin Chuzzlewit, but from what we have heard, and still more perhaps from what we have ‘not heard, we should not have been inclined to regard them as existing now. Stil Mr. Kipling is the man who has been there a ought to know. It is some comfort to any one who may have to travel on the other side of the Atlantic to believe that there are other things in America besides pompous hotel clerks and surill-voiced women and spittoous. No visitor is compelled to engage his attention only with these sudjects of study. airing oat oe URN From the Chicago Mail. “Jewelers never get rich,” said a Chicago jeweler last night. “If we could secure only 10 per cont of the profits which many peop! suppose we get we would make more money than we now do. There never has been but one rich jeweler in Awerica. Tiffany of New York isa rich man, and he is the only excep- tion. And he made most of bis money in the stationery business. ‘There are many rich men goods merchants rich hotel met Hch presets pes ¢ fen dealers. But jewelers, who are Sines, afe rarely outside of the well-todo cincto, financially speaxing. Royalty In a Yankee 3? f H i EE Hl lite ba ry i BF: : fi nut bell was not rung while these stories were | ¢! TRE MAN OF MANY WOUNDS. ‘He Named Them All After the Big Battles He Had Been In, From the Chicago Tribune. & It was in the hot room of a Turkish bat establishment. A gray-haired veteran lay @n one of the cots, softly humming a battle song, when he was approached bys youriger man arrayed in the regulation bath house toga: “Come here often, general?” asked the younger man. “hh, Jim, is that you?” said the general. “No, not often. I'm not much on Turkish baths.” “ The sheet covering the general had become displaced, and an ugly-looking scar on his thigh was disclosed.~ Jim noticed it. “What in the world is that, general?” he asked. St meet te scar affectionately, and replied: “That? O, I call that Antietam.” “And that'on the calf of the log?” “T call that Chancellorsville.” “Good: t's an awful scar on your “Yer. Second battle of Bull Run.” “And your neck?” “Vicksburg.” A crowd gathered around the cot and looked atthe scarred votoran with admiration. He put his hands under the back of his head, and, upon invitation, launched into a series of thrilling war stories, keeping them up until one by one the crowd had melted away, cach iva through the door that led to the plunge. Then the veteran gathered his toga about him and started after them. ba Neatly hot to pieces,” suggested one who ingered. “Who?” asked the veteran. “Why, you.” replied the stranger. ‘Me? ’ I was never shot. “Dut that scar on your thigh?” A “Cut myself with a hatchet when I waae oy.” ‘And the others?” “Hit myself with an ice pick on the calf of the Jeg, hada small cancer removed from my left breast, and boil lanced on my neck. Lance mark never healed.” “But you said you were wounded at Chancel- lorayille.” ‘I? O,no. I said I called it Chancellors ville. I've named my scars after the fights I was in. I wasn't hurt in any.” But he is still pointed out as brave man who was nearly shot to pieces. ———_—_+e+ —_____ TWO DIMPLES FOR TEN CENTS. Delightful Result of a Recent Whimsical Purchase in Nassau Street. A young Brooklyn Benedict, says the New York Sun, sauntered down Naseau street several months ago in a reverie. He was think- ing of his home across the bridge. An inter- esting event was soon to happen there, and be was on his way toa fruit store to'buy some dainties for his young wife. His faco' beamed with happy anticipation of the thenks of the little woman who awaited his return. He pushed through thé crowd of pedestrians without heeding anything or having the train of pleasant fancies diverted until he passed A young Italian image peddler. “The talian's stock of plaster work was displayed in a high doorway’ out of the way of the busy throng. The sunbeams lighted up the statuettes. The Benedict looked down at them, walked on a few steps, then turned back. ‘Two tiny busts had attracted his attention. One represented a boy crying, with his cap pulled away over hiv right eye." The other was a dim- irl, Inughing. They captivated the young Benedict's fane; “How much are they?” he asked the Italian. “Tena centa,” replied the peddler; tis face lighting up gayly at the prospect .of,,.0; purr. “All right. I'll take ‘em.” the Brookifhtte said, and when the peddler hdd wrapped them inanold newspaper he tucked them in his ‘overcoat pocket and continued on his way to the fruit store. He hid the im: when he got home and without his wife's knowledge placed at am deeply to be obliged to inform ‘the public Mr. Bowser has had a relapse. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, but was still something of a shock. Mr. Boyser's “good streak” lasted eleven days. During that time he took me to the theater twice, paid a mil- Unery bill of @12- without a word, raised the per week and wna so different from his usual self in other ways that I was quite bewildered. He went away from the house Saturday noon fairly beaming with goodness, and as Be reached tho bottom step he turned and said: “Tra-la, chickey! We'll run down town this evening and see about getting some new silver ware.” When be returned I was at the door to meet him and togreot him, but he waved me aside and growled “Come, now, but don’t be playing baby at your age!” ‘Are vou sick, Mr. Bowser!” No. “Has anything happened?” “No! What's the matter that supper isn't ready? If that good-for-nothing lazy cook doesn't get up and stir her stumps more lively T'll fire ber on » minute's notice. Mrs. Bowser, You never have any first-class help in the ouse !"” “Why, Mr. Bowser! You told me only yes- terday that Anna was the smartest cook you ever saw in a kitchen!” “Never did! Never said a word which could be twisted around to menn such » thing!” “And you raired her wages?” “I did that to smarten her up, but it isno use. Discharge her tomorrow!” At the table Mr. Bowser found fault with the discuit, the tea, the cold meat and everything else, and finally called out: “Mrs. Bowser, are you stone blind?” “Of course not. “Then how came you to buy such honey as this? Any one but @ blind woman could see that it is buckwheat and not clover. Why, a dog wouldn't touch it!” ““But you ordered it yourself.” ‘What !"" ‘ou ordered it of Green through the tele- age Thursday. Don't you remember you 1 to spell out the word honey before he could understand?” “Never! Never telephoned! Never a out the word! Better take it out and bury it!” After supper I n to get ready to go down town, when he suddenly looked up feom his paper and asked: “What's up now?” “Why, you said we were togo down town this evening.” “You must be crazy! Don't you suppose I ever want anight to sit down and rest myself? pei | are — gape in on earth!, It's nothing but gad, rom morning tl night: Wass Se seu woot doom “You said we'd see about some silver ware. ! Great Scott! but is the woman a lunatic! We've got bushels of it now inthe house! We've got it in the her down cellar, up-stairs and in the garret! It’ be the insane asylum next!” “Mr. Bowser, didn’t you call me chickey when you went away at noon?” “Chickey! Never!” “But you certainly did.” “I certainly didn't! Chickey? Well, when I Getas soft as that I want some ice wagon to Tun over me. About 8 o'clock that evening he removed his ver ware! Silver wat shoes to put on his slippers, but suddenly and inguired : “Ig there a darning-needle in this house, Mrs. “Why, certainly.” “And @ piece of sheep twine?” “What on earth do you want of sheep twine?” “I want to darz this hole in my sock. Some men’s wives can see much things in half an hour, m the mantel in the dining room, gl aco thene the frat thing in the e morning. “It will be a little belt ” thought. The — worked to perfection. The mistress of the household gave a little cry of delight as she caught dight of the girl's head. “What pretty di ia young Benedict came down to breakfs Yes; rather pretty for the price. I thought you'd like em,” the husband replied. In two months’ time the happy event that the household had been looking forward to anx- iously had happened. A food-natured girl baby had come to further distract the Bene- dict's mind from the dry details of business. He had weeks before forgotten the trifling purchase from the humble Nassau street art purveyor. A week liter the ae gy Sea looked up at the ceiling and smile. Her fat cheeks creased into two unmistakable dimples. The Benedict laughe}. He was imm-nsely tickled. ‘The mples,” she said, when the | # fast. but this one hus been here three weeks. I've got to darn it, the anme as I have to sew on my own buttans.” I suppose I'll have to make the bed and sweep the floor in another week.” “Those socks were all right when you changed Sunday. I'lldarn'em the first thing the morning.” jot much! The limit has been reached!” He wouldn't even lot me get @ darning needle for him, but he hunted one out of the an then, instead of taking vara, he got a piece of twine’ which had come around » package and beganto sew back and forth across ie hole. Healso made a determined attempt to look like « martyr, and he succeeded so well that the cook, who had looked in for a mo- ment, beckoned me out into the kitchen and whispered: ew it wouldn't last, ma'am—knew it all the time! He's got his high Jinks on again, and now nothing will go right for the next month!” dimples l oked as pretty as could be, and he was proud of the fact. “But where on earth did the dimples come from?” he sad. “There have'nt been any in our familioa.” ‘ “A happy whim of nature, I suppose,” said the young mother, and she kissed cach riismple several times. iM, ass eat ‘The Benedict went down to dinner hone half. an hour later. His eye chanced to {sean the mantel and rested on the S-cent bussef the laughing gir). “Ly George!” he fairly shouted, “there are those dimples now—the very ones. Well, I cal! that about the best investment of a dime I ever made.” It was another illustration of the whims of nature. ‘The dimples had captivated the young wife. She saw them daily. They had made a lasting and pleasing impression upon her mind, and, as often happens, what the mother most admired had been reproduced in her child. “Ite lucky it wasn't a boy,” said the Benedict philosophically. It might have been a crier of the worst description. ——_ Costly Fare for s Day Laborer, ‘From the Chicago Tribune. Digging post holes on the lake front for the world’s fair for €1.50 per day and paying 88 a day for board at the Auditorium will not in- crease @ man’s bank account, but Will Mahar is one who has had some experience in that di- rection, He is at present o guest at the big hotel, but as he was somewhat peculiar in his manner, and especially in his dress, he re- ceived acall from Clerk Will Shafer.’ He was told he attracted altogether too much atten- tion from the guests in the dining room. He now takes his meals in the cafe. Mr. Mahar, to say the least, is eccentric. Last week the crowds of people that gathered to wee the first shovelfal of earth dug up on the lake front by the laborers saw Mr. Mahar ree forward with his shovel and hes “od work. As long as there was employment for the labor- ers Mahar earned his $1.50 per day, and just as regulurly his bill at the Auditorium increased at the rate of €8 per day. As Mahar does not resemble Ward McAllister or any of the other prosperous-looking guests in the house, Mr. Shafer modestly suggested to the eccentric boarder one day last week, as it was ‘near the first of the month, he had better settle his accounts.” tee BY, certainty,” replied Mahar, and, pulling ‘om his pocket @ roll of bills, paid what was due the house and demanded a receipt, Yesterday, Malime occupiod his time in walk ing up and down the hotel rotunda. His make- up was a unique one. Mahar said it wus hia own patent. It consisted of « black pair of trousors held up by a stout piece of card tied tightly around his waist, a soiled white shirt, and a silk hat of tie vintage of 54. “Dou t you fin the Auditorium rather expensive?” eketl. “My assets are £2,400, and I guess I can board at the Auditorium if I want to,” replied When Mr. Bowser had finished the sock he ut it on and then went for his overcoat, say- ing: er might ag well do this job, too. There's been a button loose for two years, but of course you wouldn’t see i “But you only got this overcoat last fall,” I rotested, ‘and if there was a loose button you hould have called my attention to it.” He felt of all the buttons twice over before he could find a loose one, and then he made a great ado about cutting it’off and sewing it on in. I was rather glad to see that he made a mistako of two inches in putting it back. When he had finished I mildly inquired whether = would have beefsteak or macke-el for break- st, “There's another thiug want to speak about right now!” he sharply replied. “You are us- ing as much money to run this house as if it was an ordinary hotel. I can't see what you do with the provisions, unless you sell them second-hand or give them away.” “A week ago today you gave me $15, didn't “Yes, and you have spent every red of it, and are now in debt for 10 more!” Mr. Bowser, here is my account. It starts off with three bars of soap.” + “Three bars! It's no wonder I can't lay up a cent!” “Hold on. You have praised the table all the nd yet my bill foots up——” en't praised @ thing—not a thing!” “Well, how much does it foot up? See for yourself, I've run our tuble on about £8, while I have used another dollar for extra things for kitchen and laundry. e dollars! Nine dollars! Great Scott! Bat is it auy wonder men seem to pity me as I walk out? You havo wasted 89 in « week!” “But you have said that it often cost you 16 to run the house for a week.” “Never! I've always run it for five or six and reckless at that. That's it. Leta ‘woman have the swing and she'll bankrupt the world in» year.’ “Bat, Mr B— “No 'use—no use! I'm going to bed. I'll cbably bnve toget up at to defond the ouse against your mob of creditors clamoring for their pay. Such a house! Such a wife!” é ‘Napping in Westminster. ‘Fram the Boston Courier. A young lady who had just returned from abroad was asked what she enjoyed most of all indher experiences. She has been through the greater part of Europe and has sailed up the answer that the view of St. Poter’s at Rome, of the great Sphinx, or of some other of the world’s wonders would be cited as the thing which had most pleased ber. Instead of naming hesitation: “The nap I had in Henry VII's chapel.” He says he is waiting for the contractors to begin work on the lake front when, he intends to resume his world’s fzir job. In the mean- time he continues to pay’ 88a day for board. He says he dug up the first shovelful of earth for the great world’s exposition. He hes:a trank with dirt in his room. The:soil, he says, once occupied the space now filled nese Sycerariy hess new alias How Professor Fawcett Found a Wife. From the Indianapolis Jonmnal., Pas ‘The sudden manner in which Dr. Schliemann fell in love with his second wife recalls the story of Henry Fawcett, England's blind postmaster general. He had been talking at a public meet- ing when the news of Lincoln's death was re- ceived and announced. “The nap you had?” her questioner repeated doul “Yea, to Westminster 80 thor- oughly tied that it seemed to ame that could Nile as well, and it was expected that she would | PT. A PRETTY ROMANCE. How « San Francisco Girl Became on Artist. ‘From the San Francisco Examiner. People who noticed in the Examiner window recently « splendid cast of the head of Sitting Bull will be interested to hear the pretty ro- mance of the young artist whose work it was. It was modeled by Miss Alice Rideout, s young lady of less than eighteen years of age, who has already shown such talent that she bids fair to take front rank among the host of artists that the Pacific slopecan claim as its own. Her first start in her chosen prefession can be directly traced to « large English mastift owned by her family, althouzh her artistic as- rations date back to her early childhood. One lay while accompanied by the mastiff she the open door of a sculptor's studio. animal rushed in and, with apparent delib- rhe upon which and leg @ere shattered, and the piece lay a seeming wreck on the foor. ‘The attendant was wild. The girl endeavored to make excuses for the dog, but nothing would answer. Offers were made to pay for the damage, but to no avail. ‘The man dread- ing that upon the artist's return he would lose his position was inconsolable. The girl begged to be allowed to Teptir the piece, aud alter re- peated entreaties the man consented, with the remark that while he did not believe it could be fixed, he was very certain she could not injure it, He mixed the clay for her and watched with inierest the unpracticed fin doing the work that the sccomplished artist had so lately finished and taken so much pride in. An hour passed with most gratifying results; the arm was restored and was perfect; the attendant was happy. An- other hour ‘the leg approached completion, when lo, the artist appeared on the scene. He took in the situation at a glance, and, unnoticed by the occupants of the room, watched the work. Fis xplanations are in order and. given. The artist is charmed, declares the work of restoration has added new charms to the piece, and having heard from the girl the t ambition of her life, went with her to eration, knocked over tl If Little Babies Could Write Letters hearts would overfiow in ink! from itching and burning eczemas and AT a host of grateful testimonials the proprietors of the Cuticura Remedies would receive. They know what they have suffered How their little other itching, scaly, blotchy, and pimply skin and scalp diseases before the Cuticura Rem- edies were applied. Parents, are you doing right by your little ones to delay a moment longer the use of these great skin cures, blood purifiers, and humor remedies? Everything about the CUTICURA Remedies invites the confi- dence of parents. They are abso- lutely pure, and may be used on the youngest infants. They are agreeable to the most sensitive. 4*+ They afford instant relief in the severest forms of agonizing, itching, and burning skin and scalp diseases, and are by far the most economical (because so speedy) of all similar remedies. There can be no doubt that they daily per- form more great cures than all other skin and blood remedies com- bined. Mothers, nurses, and children are among their warmest friends. * At apout THE s Diseases, 50 Illustrations, 10 Testumonials, ‘A book of Coricura Rewmpirs are sold ier home and insisted that her parents should allow her an opportunity to learn the art for which she had evidently so much inherent —_+e+_—_—_—_. HAD NO CHANCE. The Professor's Interesting Discourse Was Rather Too Much for the Clock. ‘From the Chicago Tribune. The professor was making one of his occa- sional calls. “Tam pleased to find, Miss Laura,"2he was saying, ‘that you appear to take an interest in this subject of the architecture of the middle ages. It has always had a strong fascination for me. I confess, however, that of late I have been studying with more interest, if possible, the problem of emigration. Has it not oceurred to you that there is need of a deqper insight into this great question?” your mind, Miss Laura, as one of the most ab- sorbing of ‘topics. You have seen, I dare say, the report read by Dr. William Farr before the | London Statistical Soci the value of agricultural laborers’ wages an necessary cost of their maintenance?” “Why, no, professor, but”— “But yon are familiar, of course, with the oneral rovults of ‘is investigations. Just. so. ey were published, as you may romember, an all the leading scientific and industrial jour- nals. More recently Dr. Becker, chief of the Gorman statistical ofice, estimated the average wages German emigran: and the average margin of living, which he finds to be much closer than among the English emigrants. you recall his exact figures?” “Why, profe “But of course you do, or at least you are familiar with his conclusions. Take, too, the question of Chinese immigration. The testi- mony collected by the House committce on education and labor in 1873—or was it in 18797" “Lam sure, professor, I"—— “You are correct, Miss Laura. The testimony was collected in 1878 and the report presented in 1879. You remember the protracted debates that followed. In the Senate there was only a human being to emigrate wheresoever he chose, regardices of race prejudice. It was— let me think a moment. Do you remember what Senator it was?” “Why, professor”— “ah! T remember. It was Senator Hamlin of Maine, as you were about to remark, Miss Lanra; it was Senator Hamlin. Mr. Sargent of Calforala—ever meet Mr. Sargent?” “Genial and lovable soul, Miss Laura. Full of interesting facts and figures. But bless me! Thad no idea it was getting 0 late. Did not the clock strike 10 a moment ago?” “Ithink it tried to strike, professor,” said Miss Kajones, wearily, “bus it gave it up. roo You Don’t Tire of Them. There are people of whom one never tires, says the New York World, no matter how often ‘one sees them nor how intimate the associa- tions may be, There is about them that air of perpetual charm and variety that mukes them delightful companions. They are sure to be good-tempered. There is never any fear of finding them ina pet, nor a prey to some ill- humor wholly unreasonable and unexplainable. ‘They are pleased when you are pleased and interested in what you have to say. They are so sympathetic that your ills and troubles be- come their own and your friends become £0 dear to them that not for the world would thet do anythmg to rob you of them. Some- times” with bright, sweet — natures you find the added charm of originality and when you come across such a one treasure it and preserve it us one of the pearls of your life, for weldom, indeed, are talent, originality and good nature found com- Dined in one mortal frame. A nature thut is 80 richly endowed is three-fold talented. It has the talent of magnetism, the talent of keeping good natured and the priceiess talent of originality, which, as Rudyard Kipling says, | is not the discovery of anything new, but rather a new way of looking at old things. And that makes it all the more delightful. Eaison Defines Ampere and Volt. ‘The following question was put to Thomas A. Edison by John 8. Wire, says the New York Sun, in a recent lawsuit in which Mr. Edison was a witness, The answer by Mr. Edison gives a pretty clear definition of the words “ampere” and “volt,” which are much used about this time: Q.—“Expiin what is meant by the number of volts in an electric current?” A—‘I will have to use the anslogy of a waterfall to explain. Say we have « current of water and a turbine wheel. If I have a tur- Dine wheel and allow « thousand gallons per second to fall from a height of one footon the turbine, I get 6 certain power, we will say one horse power. Now, the ue foot of fall will rep- resent one volt ot pressure in electricity, and the thousand gallons will repesent the’ am- of the amount’ of current; we will call that one amy ‘Thus we have a thousand ons of water or one am any of these, however, sbe replied with no | itv ‘From the Chicago Tribune, ‘ A newaboy about footanda half high ascent up on the Tribune's counter yesterday ATCLIFFE, DARR & CO. VALTAl LAND AVENUE TWENTY SIXTH, of 1853, in which he | #2" gave several very interesting tables showing dey sea. Tara net dromt Twi the “pa: aity doi recorded je one man who stood up for the natural right of | “ cura Soar, an Exquisite Sian Purifier and Beauwter, Blood Purihers and Humor ‘St. Prepared by Fed, rough, Pimples, Blackheads, Sum, Scaur, ano Hare” mailed free to-any address, 64 pages, cess value to mothers, ot PAE Price, Covicuna, the Great Sin Core, soe; Com. 3; Comcura Resouverr, a m Dau AXD Coin, Con. Boston. andoily skin and hands prevented and cured thapgreatest of all Shin Purifiers and Beautificrs, the exlebrated Cuticura Soap. SPEAR foows # a all other sk and complexion soaps, while rrivalling in delicacy and surpassing in medicated toilet soap, and the the most expensive of toilet apd mursery soaps. Thr only ‘preventive of cloecing of the pores, the cause of pimpirs, @ blotches, and blackheads. Sale greater than the combined sale of al! other skin soaps. AUCTION _SALES. LADIES’ GOODS. _ M | S20 Peausyivauia ave. mw. : BLE IMPROVED PROPERTY 0} Ov BETWEEN AND THlict LAND AVENU on E> THURSDAY AFTELNOW % t HAL vwiarly adapted for ware balance in one and two years, t per annun, Payable seini- secured by of | AX) comtty Fan fo us, dat =, Oa Iss BIKCH WISHES HER FRIENDS Mis. Ppa a | Torts ‘et TON FISCHEIS lishinent and Dye Wor! ap) Gents” danri without Leing F. fame oh dyed 8 qoou v.01 AND PaA- know frou her that sbe hae recover) Csr om jatromace Of Want ues vaaade th latest sty en. Bertect We wall sein front ‘CULT aid bustine's apocialty. Si in mir; sideof Maryland | | ADIES® THLE SPALSKT of ary yet und slter into newest shapes. oxpdatarcaed Rrcketny Capen, e-- tande to onier=, The 3 of the Baltimore and NGMAM, 1305 oth at. mow., bet, N and 0. ie ye. of alt knw. Ladies WOOL GARMENTS, MADE t yaruing Gieck, v fed April 22, 2 im Liter No. 10y. folie amet | ‘one of te land records of the ct of 0 ort of vo. bia, and at the written, request of the lolder of the Cured therety we wit vel at pul ofthe. premises, un WED NIV-FOTH DAY OF FEBRUARY, 159) THE HOUR OF HALF-PAST FOUR -- Subject Tow certain deed of trust ment rs, with int an "Laver Shortbesst depcait of #100 required at time of of sale to be conplied with within ten be of mae Or property will be resold as ‘All recording and convey~ cont. ~ SORDLINGER,) fe14.17,19,21,23,24 Acetion partiee rel Girected (otis w.le,as every th _felta "pumas Dow CONTAINING 40 ROOMS OF HOUSEHOLD EF- FECTS, AT AUCTION, EMBRACING IN PART: PARLOR, Laci ‘oxeer. AICLIFFE, DAKE © 00, Auction: R ie Penn nw. SPECIALLY ATTRACTIVE SALE BY cosTES is oF THE ROOM NTENIS UO site DWELLING HUUSE 40-310 14TH ST. N.W., MONDAY MORNING. FEBRUARY TWENTY. ear Repvoriox Ix Pc Cau Ra Twa FAMILY SUPPLIES. AR, BIG Bor, WHINK me. Bot AT10 O'CLOCK A. Mt. THE FURNITURY, WHICH IS ALL IN ELEGANT COND! CONSISTS iN- RT OF Parlor Suite, Walnut, Tenn:ssee and ‘Chan f Furnivare, Usk and Chersber ver utes. “Hair Cau Shuck Mattress, Woven Wire Springs, Tolle’ Warey Plows aut Bolsters, Roca. ere, MrT. Lables, ace Curtains, Pores, Shades, Boddune, Tor Back Bouit. AND The ettention of p ‘nw and dealers ts 28 im good Coudition, aa It is the property of a gentleman RATCLIFFE, DARE & 00. Auctioneers. Dur must Le sold, Jeaving the city. THE ENTIRE CONTENTS or THE ALPINE, NOS. 317 AND 319 4; STREET NORTHWEST, NEAR THE CITY HALL, SUITE, WILLOW AND FANCY CHAT FACE AAD OTHER Wisbaw smaScies Si OTHER CAR, . 4 size Medial Paris Lxponition | indorsed by over musi w) 00 no 7 SPECIAL TNE yf CHAMBER FU NING TALES. EBOALD, CHIN p= To be sold at sblie aut: ONDAL, PE i . eriuise'ot TO the anost ware: Ladies, Can be consulted daily at 404 Cot., bet ‘Prompt treatment MEDICAL, &c. ONAL MASSAGE. — Mite. YG st. BW. Face Manage a Specialty Prowinent ladies Pam. to] p.m. ; Gent LON Au bstavlished and Reliable Physician, to stew, ses on Tgp tia as THIRD, 1501, commenciny at TEN 0 CLOCK “Deal: | (O= eitay> cosa —ee quand private buyers abould ive ‘tis ale their at: | PROFESSION SAD ees THOMAS DOWLING, vfe lim exd - ferent, IST, 417 117R ST. "[HONAS_DOWLING, AUCTIONEER —orricE ), Cures te inost mesa: dieiiee eras ona oa See thst Sa ye PEED ARY TWENTY. irmecularitien flectro EIGHTH, 101. the lease of the Ssh whart nud fish toni treatinene known We stalls in the cities of Wanhineton ant Georretown will Twelve years” Besod mucin ior the tern of one your trvas |" Hours: =. March 1 Tes follows: AUT WO OCLOCR FS, Foe 1m* E ‘our Fish Stalis in the Geotwetowi, Ts — Ularket house, to vst blader Terms cash in | J) & MEYENBENG, Mareeti- Piysician. advance, Also, at THREE O'CLOCK FM, on the Sr, nw day, on B Street between “tt and Gch streets | prom a Iason Mario aati sad pice Meant | Dy pap ast = - wed by the laws o: the or Wasuiiurton 3 ries Di a29 x. 35TH ST. Fes eat FOU!