Evening Star Newspaper, September 5, 1891, Page 10

10 fie EVENING sTaR: WASHINGTON, D. C, SATURDAY, WITH THE MORAVIANS Peculiar Customs and Primitive Quaintness of the Early Settlers IN THE LEHIGH VALLEY. Interesting Religious Ceremonies—How Eas- ter is Celebrated—The Love Feast—Some of the Important Bulldings and Thetr Peculiar Leow VESTLED AMONG GREEN. WOODED = bitts and bordering on the river which y through the beautifu end pictaresque Lehigh valley in eastern Penn- Sylvania isthe old Moravian town of Beth- chem. Although the town has increased in size and importance far beyond the design of the early settlers, mach of its primitive quaintness still emains, and the simple religious faith and pe- euliar customs which the Moravian colonists brought with them from Germany, more than 150 vears ago, are to this day the listinguishing characteristics of the inhabitants of this peace- ful community at Bethlehem. The Moravian church, or, as it is properly called, the Church of the United Brethren, dates its origin as far back as the middie of the fifteenth century, when it was organized in Moravia by the persecuted followers of the re- former and martyr, John Huss. Notwithstand- fg that itis therefore probably the oldest Protestant church in existence, vory little is generally known about the Moray MORAVIAN CHURCH. This is no doubt owing to the smallness of their numbers and to the quiet, secluded life which they have always endeavored to lead. years of their set: % ‘The coffee is prepared at the charch in_sta- tionary boilers built especially for the purpose and is served in large mugs. The cake and coffee are brought in on one side of the church by four or five of the older men of the congre- gation and on the opposite side by elderly women wearing neat white aprons and dainty lace capa. This manner of serving the love feast probably had its origin in the time when the men and women wore not permitted to sit together in church, but occupied separatecom- partments. TRE ScuNITZ WoUSE. FOR THE CRILDREN. A love feast is held on Christmas eve espe- cially for the children, whose innocent, happy chatter throughout the service is in sweet accord with the joyous anniv and the coming of the light into the world is beauti- fully typified by bringing into the church lai numbers of lighted wax candlea, which are tributed among the little ones. A feature of the children’s fest, as the festival of the children’s choir is familiarly calied. is the gathering of the children on the hillside near the church and holding « simple vervice in the open air by the light of lanterns bung ubout at different points. ‘IX THE BARLY DAYS of the community the female members of the differeut choirs were distinguished from one another by the color of the ribbons in their caps, the single sisters, for example, wearing ink ribbons and the married women blue. ny of the quaint manners and customs of those primitive times have long since fallen into disuse and are known to the present gen- eration only as @ matter of history, although many people, in their ignorance of the Mora- aus, wil regard thom us invested with their cient peculiarities, and consequently look upon them as a set of people distinctive for their odd dress and manners. DECISION BY LOT. Perhaps the most striking of these obsolete institutions was the “lot.” All matters of im- portance were referred to the Lord, and in order to ascertain his decision a small piece of paper was drawa from a consecrated box con- taining papers bearing the affirmativeand nega- tive of te question, and the matter was cided in accordance wit ith the inscription on held themselves entirely aloof from the ot world, carrying on their work of proselytism among the neighboring Indian tribes a ing peaceably together in a state of comm each member of the community contributing his or her share of labor toward the common welfare with no other remunera- tion than that of the general benefit resulting frem such a mode of living. OLD GERMAN CUSTOMS. As might be supposed nearly all the Mo- tavians of Bethlehem are of German descent, and although the English language is now gen- erally uses there is searcely any one who is not able to speak the mother tongue. In some of the fazailies German is still spoken exclusively. and certain of the religious services are regularly held ia that language. It is not surprising, therefore, that many of the old customs, whie are often supposed to belong distinetively to the Moravians, are in reality simply derived from the German; as, for example, the eating of five meals a day. This is custom which is still adbered to by many of the Moravian fum- the piece of drawn, the supposition being that the Tord guided’ the hand of the one who drew the paper forth. This was known as a decision by lot, and while this practice has virtually d_ out of existence there are still occasions when the lot is brought into use. SEPARATION OF THE SEXES. The regulations relative to the disposition and separation of the sexes were extremely strict and curious. Nearly all marriages were decided by lot and arranged by the elders of the church without consulting the wishes of either party. As was mentioned before, the men and women were not allowed to sit to- gether in church, and in the very early days of the settlement even husband and wife were not permitted to live in the same house. This severe rule, however, did not Inst for any great length of time. All unmarried men dwelt to- ether in what was styled the “Brethrens’ louse,” where each one learned or plied some trade ‘and thereby contributed toward the maintenance of the community. he single ilies, Lreakfast being had carly ia the morning PATH IN CEMETERY. aed fallowed s fow hours latter by 2 light mea! | significantly called “‘nine o'clock.” with dinner | at noon and “vespers,” consisting of “sugar cake” and coffee, at 2:30-and supper following até. . AELIOIOeS FEsTrvALs, Some of the coremonies attendant upon the celebration of Christmas and Easter and other religious festivals are likewise familiar German eustoms. although perhaps unheard of by the memility of Americans. No Mori iy» Christmas is complete-without its mar eakes” These are small ginger snaps Dakes iu various forms of leaves, birds and animals, which are intended not only to be eaten, but to be hung on the tree as part of its decoration. THE Perz. Mosses and greens are placed about the foot of the Christmas tree in representation of a Miniature landscape, with sand sprinkled here and there for ad toy fences: houses and Aniuals placed about in appropriate and rug- Kestive positions, the whole being known asa “putz.” Many of them are quite elaborate aud constructed with much shill and ingenuity. esenting some wild pi uning water and mi te” is built im the ¢ te A Year. the principal feature of which is the represen mt Savior lying in the man, of Bethichem shin- ing Drightl de in the dis ng to the glad tidings of the av RasteR TIME the children build themselves rests of cotton or straw, which they place about in odd nooks and corners of the house or garden and wait eagerly for their “rabbit eggw:” for to them it is the rabbit who lays the Easter eggs just as surely as it is Krisskringle who fills their etock- tage un the night be ristmas. en a mewber of the congregation reaches the age of fifty veurs he celetrates what is Bnown as his“ This is looked uj ae one of the most important events of hie hife ant is the occasion for great rejoicing and fes tivities not only in his izamedinie family but throughout the entire freundschaft. MORAYIAN RELIGIONS OBSERVANCES. The peculiar religions observances and church customs, however, are characteristic alone of the Moraviens acd form the most in- teresting feature of their ceonomy. The congregation ia divided into classes or “choirs,” in ac ce With the age. sex and tion of its members, The children under of thirteen years compose the “chil- dren's choir.” Those from thirteen to eigh- teen years of age are designated as “great boys” and “great girls" Above this age the a ters” and unmarried men as “single brethren.” Then there are the “married people.” the “widows” and the “widowers.” Each one of these choirs has its day of cel- ebretion im the year, known as its festival day, on which special services are held for the members of the choir, with « general love- feast im the afternvon. 4 LOVE WEAST, Yin as its name indicates, is a feast of love, at which ‘the people gather together in the church to eat and drink in peaceful fellowship. The cere- monies consist simply of the by the congregation and the and sisters likewise lived together by themsclves in another building. novsE is still standing and forms the eastern wing of the row of old houses, which, for a number of Years, constituted the entire settlement. con- taining as it did all the divisions of the congre- ation. In the center of this row is what is nown aé the “Bell House,” which for a number of years prior to 1791 was used for the Moravian Female Seminary, an institution which became famous for its discipline and struction, and numbered among its pupils the daughters of many prominent Americans. The western end of this assemblage of buildings is composed of the old chapel and the Gemein Haus, or house of the congregation, which was originally occupied by the ministers and their families. Wwipows’ HOUSE. On the opposite side of the narrow street is the widows’ house, which. as its name ituplics, is the dwelling house of the widows of the con- mm. Another old building worthy of m is the Schnitz house, which stands back from the street in a quaint old-fashioned arden, asa relic of the primitive settlement. Fi'vas here that in yeare fone by the different families brought their apples to be dried. and hence its name of “schnitz house,” signifying “dried apple house. ‘These venerable houses, built in a style of architecture so different from that seen in this country, even in towns older than Bethlehem, contrast oddly with their modern surroundings, and cannot fail to impress the visitor with their unique appearance. The hip roofs and double rows of dormer windows, the massive masonry, supported by heavy buttresses, and the curi- ously shaped belfry surmounting the center, are so many features borrowed from the manor houses and churches common in the homes of the Moravian forefathers. The building of such spacious houses ina new country natu- rally gave rise to strange and erroneous sur- mises on the part of those Who were not ac- wainted with the customs and origin of the loravians, and many, in thefr ignorance of the subject, supposed these building to be mon- ™ they whisper, are able to tell by the of which choir the de- ber. the ‘THE OLD MORAVIAN BURTING GROUND contains no monuments or headstones— simply the long regular rows of graves, cach with plain, flat tombstone lying on the center of the mound. Perhaps the most beautifal and interesting of the Moravian religious ceremonies are those attendant upon the celebration of Easter. These have attracted so much attention by their —— each year many strangers come to Bethlehem for the express purpose of witnessing them. Long fore ten Sahel on Easter morning the trombonists herald the advent of the glorious anniversary by playing at the different strect corners of the town, and as the inspiring strains burst forth upon the holy percefulness of the early morning, filling the air with agrand rap- turous melody, all nature scems to awake and listen to the ‘tidings which this sublime sym- phony proclaims. Ere the stars have “faded away in the western sky the good people make their way to the church, whoro a short service of praise is held, and then, preceded by tho ministers and trombonists, the congregation files out of the church and wends its way in slow, solemn procession up the winding hill to the graveyard. Thore, in the last resting place of its departed loved ones, the congregation assembles in a large circle, and as the sun rises above tho di tant hilltop in sublime symbolization of the resurrection a grand hallelujah bursts forth from the people, and, with the resonant tones of the trombones and the bling of the birds, swells into a divine, harmonious chorus of praise and thanksgiving. A HAREM-SCARUM FEA8T. ‘What « Visitor Saw and Ate at = Turkish Breakfast. From Temple Bar. A plate of broth before each guest; in the middle a big red tray, containing tumblers of water and sirup and small plates filled with aweets, cavinr, sardines—all kinds of hors @eenver, in fact, which are plentifully patron- ized. Iam seated next to the pasha's daugh- ter. A promiscuous rout of servants and slaves wait upon us. Some are white; some are very, very black. ‘Tho latter wear the most elementary of colored chemises or night dresees, caught round the waist with » string. After the soup comes hugo platter of little bits of roasted mutton. In deference to my prejudices, I am helped upon a separate plate, though I bad come prepared to act upon the principle of a whimsical old friend of my ehild- ish days, whose paraphrasing of “A la guerre guerre” was “In Turkey do as the comme la turkeys do.” Tam bound to state that separate plates are likewise set before the ladies of the harem. But this is the merest matter of form. By common consent all the forks are dipped simultaneously into the central dish and bits are progged out and conveyed tothe lips without any unnecessary delay. Sometimes the good old maxim that fingers were made before forks is acted upon. Iam not sorry now that my prejudices have been respected. The mutton beimg cleared away another great central dish of eggs and onions succeeds. The same secne as before is enacted. And now comes a sweet dish of Turkish pas- try—the greasiest, flukiest, lightest, eweetest, most surfeiting pustry in tho world.’ Then fol- lowed artichokes stuffed with mincement,which are soon made real mincemeat of by the ‘crowd of forks and fingers. More pastry—meaty this time —and then a curious dish, which is attacked by a dozen spoons at oneand the eame time, that promptly return to the attack after leaving the lips to. which they have been di- rected in the interim. Once ore I cannot fiud it in my heart to regret tha, my prejudices have led to my being helped upon a plate to myself. ‘This much-esteemed dish is a kind of pap, with an unpronounceable Turkish name, spelt cavouk geussu. It consists of chickens’ breasts boiled down with milk until the whole is re- duced toa kind of sweet pulp, very filling and cloying. The pap is succeeded by a kind of jelly, strongly impregnated with essence of rose. Then comes a huge dish of Iamb, and as a final and crowning triamph a huge platter of pilaf, with the rice boiled as it ought to be for curry—in separate grains and properly greased, browned and gravied. Even the hunger en: ndered by a conscientious adherence to the ficmanzan has ite limits, After oranges had been distributed to the company all around the ladies of the harem re- paired to the adjoining room. The servants and slaves flocked into an adjoining apartment, Where ‘they and the children took their iftar with less of forks and more fingers than their mistresses, and I sipped my Turkish coffee and lighted my Turkish cigarette under the direct Protection of my friend, the pasha’s daughter. —— MUSTARD AND MUSTARD. A Few Facts About the Most Popular and Universal of Condiments. From the Chicago Tribune. Nature in her abundant,ever-doting thought- fuinese has so provided that there grows afor- est, afell and afield, a certain branching plant with dainty yellow blossoms, from the rich fruitage of which is wrought # condiment, piquant, permeating and fascinating to the good liver. It is this which sometimes brings the epicurean tear, beside which that dropped by some peri at the gate of paradise is but as phosphorus is to flame. The name of this fair plant is mustard, and its blessing is prepared or marred in different ways. ~ Enter the restaurant, order the pink boiled ham or red roast beef and call for mustard and note what comes to you. Pitiful it is to say, but three times out of four the more or lows pampered menial puts beside your plate a lilliputian vessel containing a brownish sub- stance appearing to the taste a combination of burnt flour and doubtful vinegar. You raise your voice in earnest protest and you are in- formed that you have been served with genuine Freach or German mustard, as the case may be, and that there is none other in the house. You make the best of a lunching situation which may not be improved and try to use the lifeless atuff and fail, and no white stone may mark the memory of the stomach's feast. Your palate has been to the play and the performance has been found lacking. ‘There is a mustard, the pure, golden powder of the fiery seed, which is alike an appetizer and an inspiration. It is the very soul, the other half, the very doppeldanger of certain things we cat. It is known vulgarly as English mustard, and is the condiment of heroes and of patriots. In Chicago one would imagine the mustard, not the sloppy imitation, must be on every public table, but such is not the case. The epicene abomination takes its place in more than half the restaurants of the city, ‘and the man of taste and talent, he who knows the difference between # salad’ and «salmon, steries and nunneries. PULASKI'S BANNER. In view of the general misapprehension con- cerning these secluded people, it is, perhaps, not to be wondered at that Longfellow should GEN. WASEINGTON'S VisIT. It is recorded that Gen. Washington, on occasion of a visit to Bethlehem, supplied him- self with some of the goods from the “first do- “ aha MUSINGS OF THE STAGE How Theatrical Realism Received a Series of Setbacks, TOO TROE TO NATURE. Russell Harrison in = Theatrical Ror—The Front Row Dude and the Soubrette’s Slip- Per—How the Theatrical Writer Repairs Fallures—An Actress for Beauty Only— Personal Animosity Among Artists, —_ ‘Special Correspon sence of The Evening Star. New Yonx, September 5, 1891. EALISM RECEIVED SEVEN BLOWS AT one of our most fashionable theaters (the Lyceum) this week—one blow for every per- formance of a new play. The most important scene dramatically and tho most pretentious ‘one pictorially represented a grand hallway and staircase in a British duke’s residence on the evening of a ball. Tho arriving guests were announced by a sententious flunkey and in every way a careful effort was made to closely imitate 4 real occasion of the kind. And it was done successfully, too, as judged by any well- informed observer. Neverthcloss, the specta- tors laughed at it and it suffered terribly from ridicule. Its very truthfulness caused its fiasco. You may have seen Du Maurier’s pictures in Punch during the past ten years, depicting In- ies and gentlemen in London aristocratic so- ciety. Those drawings have mado the artist famous by reason of their faultless sincerity. COMICAL FROM THEIR REALISM. Well, the two or three dozens of swell guests introduced on the stage in tho ball scene were ag good and true as Du Maurier’s portraits. They were not meant to be all Adonises and Venuses in modern garb, but were intended to represent the mild eccentricities of personality in such a gathering. Two or three of the girle were very handsome and fully satisfied any- body's ideal of aristocratic belies, and there were examples of the London beau in his best sightliness, but the majority were by intention just alittle comic. The audience was quick mough to discern the comucality, but did not fe the credit of intentionality to the mannge- Ment and instead laughed at tite guests for be- ing—as was supposed—a crude and ludicrous {allure to represent good-looking, fashionable folks. RUSSELL HARRISON IN A BOX. Tho acceptance of proscenium boxes at a theater by the President's family one night this week led an inquirer to ask of Russell Harrison how he enjoyed a performance from that part of the house. “It may be swagger to seo the play from a box,” he replied, “but the play suffcrs. You can sce the actors at their entrances waitin, for their cuea, you can seo the braces by whicl the trees are held up, you can see too much of the paint and powder and you observe the leading lady adjust the hook in the back of her dress while she begs the villain for good gra- cious ake to spare her life. But what of all that? People in boxes are not supposed to look atthe play enyhow. ‘They are to be looked at and they are supposed to have a nice, sociable time while the play is going on and to be enjoy- ing their conspicuousness between the acts, As for me, give me a parquet chair about five rows from the front.” NEW COMIC OPERAS. Five new comic operas have been produced in this town within ten days, and every ono of them was such acompleteand irredcemable fail- ure that it is unlikely to ever be performed elsewhere. An old manager computes that the aggregate of loss in these so unfortunate ven- tures is fully $90,000. Such a succession of fiascos is enough to discourage theatrical capitalists. Concurrently, however, a clever fellow, somewhat on thé dude pattern, scored a hitasan auditor at acomic opera the other night. Ho was among the expectant youths of the front row who gaze and gaze through- out an evening, bearing none of the music and only’ an occasional joke, in the vain hope that the prima donna will | turn her dusky orbs upon them and confess her infatuation. If the prima donna is a little choice with her dusky orbs, then a smile from & soubreite, or even a chorus girl, will be grate- fully accepted. This particular youth had cer- tainly not charmed the prima donna, but possi- bly the soubrette, who dajced moro or less nimbly after her songs, cast a sparkling glance in his direction between steps. At afy rate he thought she did, and wondered all threugh the first act Low it would be possible for him to meet her. The second act came and the sou- brette proceeded to execute another dance, the third since the opera began. THE DUDE's OFPoRTUNITY. Tt was a rather wild dance, requiring a wreck- less use of the heels, and as the young woman was giving a special kick at the finish her sli per detached itself from her foot and skimmed like a bird over the heads of the players in the orchestra and fell among tho young men in the front row. The whole audicnce laughed and applauded and the little soubrette, palpably de- lighted, looked coquettishly down’ at the young man and extended her hands to indicate that she wanted the slipper back again. But it was not forthcoming and the dancer was compelled to retire without it. The third act came and the soubrette, supplied with new slippers, proceeded with a fourth dance. When she had finished and was bowing to the applause the young men in the front row stood up and threw the lost slipper over the footlights. It fellon the stage at the actress’ fect. Since the previous act it had been filled with flowers, and from its silver buckle was suspended a card. There was a hiss from tlfe back of the theater, but the good-natured people laughed and cheered and the young man who created the disturbance rose aud bowed with great ceremony to the audience at large. He had exhibited a certain quality of brilliancy and courage and his reward was swift. In fact he supped with the dainty dancer that night after the show. IN THE WANDS OF THE TIXKER. When a play fails, as a good many plays do at about this time of year, the people interested put their heads together and argue the question of keeping the play on in spite of its cold recep- tion. If itis decided to fight the thing out then the manuscript of the play is taken to what is known as a “theatrical tinker,” who patches up the imperfect vessel fora reasonable remun- eration and very possibly changes it to an ex- tent thut makes it worthy of praive. A play that recently secured from the néwspaper erit- iesa share of condemnation that cume very near sweeping it out of existence at once was taken to a tinker the day after its failure and left for him, to examine. This tinker is literary man of more than ordinary ability, but he oceupies a very modest position in his pro- fession today, owing to a weakness for drink- ing, which attacks him periodicully and units dim entirely for employment for several days, He will work steadily for six months at a time and then start ona spree fora week. He had bee inlly steady of late, in fact had not surrendered t0 his thirst in more than seven months, The unsuccessful play was taken to him on Wednesday morning. ‘A SEVERE CRITICISM. ‘That night his friends found tim sitting in a pale, disordered state of intoxication at a table ina Broadway bar room. He was muttering tohimself between his gulps of liquor, and occasionally he started convulsively and rasped af invisible objects in the air. He was fie Simon on the vergo of delirium. His friends sat down with him silently. He looked inadazed way from one to another. Then someone ssked him why he hed forgotten himself again. He turned his wild eyes upon the speaker. to me this morning be who wants a flavor he can feel, he, the veneered descendant of the Vikings, may not have what he craves! What are we going to do about it? ———_+0e —__ Once ina Life Time. From the National Observer. Once upon a time therolived a Yorkshireman who bad never been washed in his life. He poor withal—so poor that he was obliged to go into the work house. Once there, he was in- formed thet washed he must be, and washed he should: to which he replied that he knew not £ i i fl - xy brought —— and asked me to rewrite it,” he hoarsely whis- pered. “I read the play this afternoon.” ‘The tears came into his eyes as he spoke and he shook his head as though to srapret that life was too bard, ‘much ‘too hart ‘Then be bounded to his feet as though shot from a and, letepge Sin fist down upon the table, screamed: “Whisky? Bring more whisk: Tt was a very severe criticism upon successful play. AX ACTRESS oR BEAUTY OMLY. “It a dramatic critic will only speak of an actress’ physical boauty,” said a clever young member of the theatrical profession, ‘she will forgive him a, \t deal of censure of her artistic capabilities. “f Know of ono instance where @ QQ ‘woman who was making her debut New suicide F atti EPTEMBER 5, 1891—SIXTEEN PAGES, wascomplete. She was big, white and luscious Sow wegen foo “I looked at her. Istadied her. Her acting was certainly commonplace. Nearly all the faults conspicuous in her at the time of her firet appearance were still noticeable. She hed rf tly made very little effort to rid herself of thom. “But what I observed especially about her was that her dresses were cUt #0 a6 to exhibit her back to its utmost advantage, and he nd developeda babisof turning balf round as she delivered her lines so that the audience could get the full effect of her unusually bean- tiful shoulder blades. She had never forgotten that compliment of the critic in the evening newspaper. It had been her start asa stago beuuty, and in that character she bad worked up from the ranks to the position of leading lady. You might tell her now that she isa poor actress and she would contemptuously smile. But speak of her maguificent and she will regard you at once as a scer in the world of dramatic criticism.” PERSONAL FEELINGS AXD PROFESSIONAL WORK. A prima donna and a tenor who are now on their way here from England to join one of the principal comic opera companies are said to be at swords’ points in their private interoourse, and yet no trouble ie anticipated by their man- ager in getting them to work in harmony. This hostile attitude of two leading. Performers is not at all uncommon in stage ai A well- known manager in ing of it the other day remarked: “No goo: t allows his personal feelings to interfere with his professional work. Those two young opera singers will make love and kiss as though they adored each other, you can count on it. Why, look at the case of Charlie Thorne and Sara Jewett. They hated each other and wouldn't speak together off thi stage. Iremember an instance down at thé Union Square one night when ‘Dauiel Rochat wason. At theend of the second act, just when Thorne was getting in some of his finest and most serious acti ‘flat’ fell in behind the scenes, making a terrible noise and scaring Charlie out of his linea. He hesitated an in- stant and then went on with his part, but the moment the curtain fell, a moment later, he vented his wrath. For a while the air was blue, and Thorne’s voice was audiblo away out in the theater. Sara Jewott did not have time to get off the stage before the outburst came, and she heard the worst of it. She was so disRusted that she turned and said something very cut- ting to Charlie, He retorted in kind, and the two had a short, sharp spat, Jewett white with anger and Thorne boiling. Then they with- drew to their respective drersing rooms. ARTISTS AGAIN. “The third act came on, and if you remember the third act of ‘Rochat’ you know that it is one of the most impassioned to be found in modern drama. It is wild love from beginning to end. sochat grovels at the feet of tho woman he'worships and begs like spaniel for her caresses. Weil, I went in front to see the act, and never, during the run of the play, did Charlie Thorne ever get more thoroughly ‘into the part. His love for Jewett was overwhelm- ing in its unbridled intensity. It seemed as though he must seize and crush her lifé out in his insanity of passion. And Jewett ehowed no surprise. She was the artist again and looked into the actor's face with the yearnin tender expression that her character required. It was beautiful—beautiful. Some people say that Fanny Davenport is doing the best acting of her life now because she loves her leading man, who 18 also her husband. Nonsense. Love or hate has nothing to do with acting. Why, look at the caso of Charles and Kose Coghlan. Were not they both at their best when they acted lover parts together at Wal- Jack's? Well, now, if private emotion had any- thing to do with ‘art wouldn't a brother and sister find it impossible to simulate the neces- sary passion. That tenor and prima donna who hate ‘cach other will get on all right. If they don't it will be because they are not artists.” ———+-o- —__ HE'S A GUIDE TO THE TOWN. The Paying Vocation of » Harvard College Graduate From the New York World. “Would you like to be shown over the city, sir?” ‘The question was asked in one of the most poptlar up-town cafes by e young man who wore clothing of fashionable cut and wore it as if used to it. His face was honest and intelli- gent, and his manners, in spite of his abrupt question, were those of a gentleman, “Iam a professional guide to New York,” he continued, handing the writer an engraved card. “I take visitors to see anything there is to be seen in this town. Ifa man comes here and wants to see the ‘good’ places of interest I take him, but by far the greuter part of my in- come is derived from taking men to see the ‘seamy’ side. Ido not charge much. Five dollars and whatever expenses a man wants to incur pays the bill. “Where do you get your customers?” was asked. “When a stranger comes to town he goes toa hotel. “He has an evening or day to spare and wants to enjoy life. But le doesn't know where to go, and, asa general thing, he asks the ad- vice of the hotel clerk. Then I am sent forand off we go. Idon't drink. Soone of usis bound to know where the ‘other side of the street’ is at any time. “I haye saved visitors to this city a good many dollars and in many cases have got them out of tight places where they would have a lot of trouble alone. When they go with me they don’t wind up in a police court.” “But there is another side of the business, isn't there?” ‘Yes, and a much plensanter one. I take patrons to the theaters, the patk, Coney Island, the big newspaper oftices and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Lots of people like to go there. The big bridge scems to be the great Mecca, however. Some people want to go to the cemeteries. The cathedral is asked for very often. “How did I get into the business? Well, it was laziness, I guess. I am a graduate of Har- vard and I couldn't bring myself to ‘k's chair all day long. I'can easily make a week, and gentlemen are frequently so delighted with their experiences that they give me €15 or €20 more than the original pri agreed upon. I have made as much as $115 a week—that was during the centennial celebra- tion.” ————E A Fawily fn All the Country's Wars. From the Baltimore San. Mr. Thomas Reynolds of Monroe street is the youngest and only living son of James Reynolds of Queen Anne county, who was a revolutionary soldier as well as a defender of Baltimore in 1814. He served with the gun boat flotilla under Col. Spedden on the Chesapeake, and subsequently served in the Maryland line flying column of Smallwood’s command. ‘Tradition and MeSherry's History of Maryland make him » jeutenant and then a captain. Jas. Reynolds’ father, Capt. John Reynolds of the regular or- ganization, was a soldier of the early Indian wars and of the war of the revolution. Mr. Thos. Reynolds’ er was the wife of Mr. John Colein, who served in the war of 1812. One of the older sons of Jas. Reynolds was John Re; nolds of Queen Anne, who came to Baltimore and died in Washington a fe ago, in his ninety-first year. in the war of 1812 and was the fath of Col. Chas. A. Reynolds of the United States army, who served in three wars—the Mexican, Oregon, Indian and the civil. Hie son, Lieut. William B. Reynolds, has just fin- hed a creditable course of two years at the Leavenworth School of Application. He ts greduate from Georgetown College and from Wost Point. Itcan be said that the family in four generations has served in all the wars in which this country has been engaged. Col. Reynolds had two brothers who cast thelr for- tunes with the coufedcrac; One became a brigade commander, afterward a state senator of Arkansas, and Gov. Buxter made him a @om- mander of his troops in a little unpleasantness in that state. Iu the war the two brothers were present in three pitched battles opposed to each other. A Sweet Thing. ATTRACTIVE HOMES. The Love of Novelty Must Be Al- ways Oatered To, A CHRYSANTHEMUM ROOM, ‘How a Guest Chamber Can Be Made Attract- ive by the Japanese Flower as a Basis of Decoration—White Wood Work Gaining Ground—An English Fancy. ¥ ‘Written for The Evening Star. E LOVE OF NOVELTY MUST ALWAYS and regularly be catered to, for to many People newness has the greatest chatm. Things | and ideas that have been proved are what other temperaments aro best suited with. It is difti- cult often for people to display enough imagi- nation to realize what untried effects will re- sult in, and for such a precedent must have been established and something tangible must be followed. Something which has passed the experimental stage in other hands is what the | majority of people find safest as guides, and | thus to see or hear descriptions of what other women have done is more interesting to most | women than to hear of untried ideas which to | enthusiastic minds may scem feasible, but | which lack the seal of approved success. A CHRYSANTNEMUM LED Room. A description of a chrysanthemum bed room, which isa charming certainty, may be inspir- ing to some readers who have the task, at once pleasant and discouraging, of fitting up a sleep- | ing room and whose ideus may be more vague | on the subject than is desirable. A large airy | wry chamber is the room in question, with light wood work in uatural finish. The ‘steep Pitch of the roof in this third story makes a slope to the outer walle at the ceilings, which ives a little irregularity in the rooms. ‘A swell | ay window, shaliow and wide, las no opening in the middle, and here the dressing bureau is set. while low, broad windows at cach side and a third one on another ride of the room muke | it light even on dull days. Under one window | | of the bay isn window sect, not solid to the floor, but supported | nt wood and shaped in an or: greater com- fort of the sitter. Ateach end it is wide, but curves in until quite narrow at the center, so | that an casy sitting position can be secure much so as if two low chairs were draw together before the window. A thick tufted cushion, shaped like the seat.softens it, and the color of the deep old pink harmonizes with the lighter pink of the short silk curtains which hang from a small brass rod inside the window frames, which ure nearly square in shape. DECORATION OF THE WALLS. The walls are covered with paper, in which Japanese chrysanthemums of several tones of pink up to dark red are massed on a light pink background. I say massed, and still the effect not at all hea being the impression received from the charming de- sign. The Slope inward of the wal is just deep enough for the frieze, which is haad work, a flower design in pale shades on a pink ground, the same idea being delicately carried out on the ceiling. The floor, perhaps as a : from the other rooms where rugs abound, has carpet all over it. The ground is dark red with a Persian pattern all over its velvety wur- | face, and the light colors which prevail in the | furnishings are in relief egainst it. A number | of pretty water colors adorn the walla. showing well on the chrysanthemum paper. The furni- ture is very pretty, of bird’s-eve maple, hand- some in design und plain in finish. The low broad dressing table with round mirror stands in the center of the bay with a window on each side for daylight and a gus fixture likewise on each side for evening, so that an excellent light for dressing purposes is at command at all | times, a fac} which vieitors appreciate, for such comfort in guest rooms is not always attaiua- ble. Aparticularly pretty small bedside table mong the belongings of the room, and a big soft easy chair with a flowered pink covering is very inviting. By daylight the room is pretty, but in the evening the gas scems to intensily the coloring everywhere, enhuucing the 1 tones and making it still prettie WHITE WOOD WORK GAINING GROUND. White wood work in houses is gaining rather than losing ground; not only in the enamel fin- sh for drawing rooms, where the winite and gold has already reigned some time, but the flat white, with.no gloss, is much used and with ood effect in other and more minor rooms of a house. When an old house is to be renovated and the wood work of a room is to be made white, if the floor is unsightly, a border of white may also be applied to it as a margin for a large rug, and it givesa clean, inviting look, which can easily be removed. “A pretty mantel in a| near a small room is of ivory white wood with the | favorite festoon designs in relief beneath the | shelf and pale pink marbie facing Above the shelf the wall is papered lize the rest of the room in delicate stripes of pink and white, with flowers in bunches over them, like a brocade in style. Set flat against the wail and resting on | the mantel, thus seeming a part of it, are three oval picture frames, the center one the largest, coming nearly to the frieze in height, and the three all but fitting the width of the chimney breast. In these frames aro the water-color portraits of the three children of the house, about two-thirds life size, merely the heads d shoulders of each. At the ‘top of each frame, which is white and touched with gold, is abow knot. From this ornament in the ce ir of the middle frame festoons in white and gilt droop, reaching to the knots in the center of each smaller frame on the side connecting the three, and all, as I snid, making a part of the mantel itself. ‘The children’s faces are lovely, the drawings well done and the whole idea is ‘charming as thus carried out. AN ENGLISH FANCY. Among English fancies is that of photographs in quantities about the drawing room, mostly in standard frames sos to sct on tables and cabinets. Friends, people distinguished for beauty or brains in the world, are all repre- sented and the effect gives a homelike look to a room and is a good idea to imitate. A HANDSOME SOFA PILLOW. A handsome sofa pillow has been made of terra cotta plush and moleskin. ‘The shape is rectangular, instead of the usual square, and half of the front is of plush and half of the moleskin, the division being across the longest way of the pillow. On the mole- skin, which is very soft, almost like undressed kid, and much duller in tone than the plush, is a handsome scroll design of silk cord sewed on invisibly. At intervals and forming part of the pattern large crocheted rings filled with lace stitch are set. The plush ix left undecorated and its rich texture sets off the lusterless mole- skin, which also forms the plain lining of the pillow. A heavy cord is the finish on the edge all around. NETTED LAMP SHADES. For those who have the old-fashioned aecom- plishment of netting is an opportunity of dis- playing it in netted lamp shades of silk, with deep fringe tied in, and these put over a silk fringe of the same or contrasting color, with full pinked ruche as heading and a pinked ruffle under the fringe. White or cream net- ting over palest greeu silk is protty. White over white is pretty and pale pink over rose color or maize over yellow. all the time and the shades are as large and fanciful as ever. Here in town one can have shapes made or altered by workers in wire, so that any effect can be gotten which is wanted, fact that every one may not know, and which ise great satisfaction when one cannot find ready made what one wishes. If one has pic- fare frames and wants to put different Pictures ‘asimple mat, whic! very well, can Peimsde! at home of, Whatmau's Gater-color Cutthe opening right to fit the pic- ae! * a quarter of an inch from this ¢ it with something blunt, like back of phat biel, See ign ed vuracy. This gives ita“ ‘ish, 80 no ‘one would attribute it to home origin. PAYS ‘Why He Called His Parrot Money, | formally Told Upon Men Who Are Well Known ta Pablic Life PRIVATE JOHN ALLEN'S VALUE as COUNSET— @EX. GRANT'S WONDERFUL MEMORY—sAM SMALL'S CYCLONE AND THE LIQUOR SALOONS— 1% © MOUK'S TACT ON TRE STUMP. RIVATE JOHN ALLEN OF MISSISSIPPI is by all odds the best story teller in the Honse, and, although ho seldom laughs at his own stories, no one enjoys the hearing more | than he does the telling. Unlike a good many | story tellers Allen enjoys one at his own ex- Pense, and in his very large repertoire he bas @ number. Here is one that he tellis, which has | Rever been in print: Allen was engaged as counsel ina ease by an old farmer down in | Mississippi, and when the case came up for | trial he failed to put in an appearance. The | lawyer on the other side was unwilling, bow- | ever, to take any advantage of the Tupelo statesman, and at his suggestion the jarice i | continued the case till noxt term, ‘with @ caution to Allen's client to be sate and have that gentleman on hand. The next term arrived, the cage in due order was called, but still Mr. Allen did not put in an appearance. The old farmer said Allen was in tow co: and take it up 1 the unfortunate client we: elict counsel. He spent th est pursuit of Allen, but that gentlems not be found, and when the case was called n judgment by default was taken against rsclicnt. Searcely had the deeree been entered when the missing lawyer made his ap- pearance. Itscems that Mr. Allen had | traveling the t before or had been up with a few friends, bat at any rate he did not retire | till late and Lad epent the morning in thearms of tg the judg- but the court overruled sd he was obliged to re- t room. “I have | ound town ing for | you and couldn't fir You are just like an old to have when I was ways getting out of the lot he got out ail hands on tand chase him. He all h—I to catch, and when you caught him he | Wasu't worth a d—n.” SAM JONES’ CYCLONE. enunciation of the sinners of | Gotham recalls a story of the noted evangelist | that is an apt illustration of the old saw that | c always “two sides to a story.” The | vy. Sam had nm dealing out goipel and nstone in his usual vigorous style in Nasb- | : oted bis “rum sellers. fam Jones’ | In he declared that the Lord did not always wait until appeared before the judgment seat to mete out their punishment, but oftgimes laid His heavy hand upon them on this f “I will give yous case jown in Georgi his illustrations fro: gophers) there wax a little town in which there were three saloons. Que day the Lord sent cyclone and it struck that town, swooped down on those suloons and didn’t leave a vestige of point,” said be. a always draws dof peauute aud them. And, my friends, there wasn't a shingle lifted from the roof of ‘nary another house in town. Tell me the Lord docs not take care of his own,” &e. ‘The next day the writer met a minister who wax on the platform the night before and in the course of conversation anent the Rev. Saia remarked that ne thought that cyclone story was a little bit too large to ewaliow. “No doubt the story is true, or Mr. Jones would not have told it, very eminent Baptist ‘divine, who is now in charge of a church at Sioux City, lowa, “but I will tell youastory on the other sideif you won't mention my name in connection with it. I know of a town—let us locate it in Georgia for the sake of convenience—where there was only one saloon; that was visited by a cyclone, and after that cyclone got through toving with the houses in that village the only. sbanty left stancing was the saloon. I know that to be ® “i GRANT'S WONDERFUL MEMORY. The eventful life of Gen. Grant farnishes many incidents that are worthy of @ place in the history of that great soldier. One of Grant's characteristics was that be seldom for- gotaface. During the fighting in the Wilder- ness Grant was sitting aloneabout2 o'clock one morning in his cabin, where he had estab- lished his he: gazing at the embers of the fire as it slowly died away. Suddenly there entered an officer, accompanied by a boy probably ten or twelve years old. The officer gave his name as Maj. “Warren, belonging toa New York regiment and attached to Gen. Han- : ed that he had started to m. Meade with dispatches from Gen. vat had lost his way. Gen. Grant ‘y briefly told the ofticer where Gen. Meade Was stationed and said be would look at the dispatches. He did so and then told Maj. Warren to return to Gen. Hancock with instructions to remain where he was wntil further orders. Hie then turued, and secing the’boy, Major Warren's son, patted him on the head and assed him if he would not like to be a soldier. The little fellow said he would, and aword or two of commendation Grant again turned hiseyeson the fire. The iuter- view was at an end, and the officer aud his boy retired. Two days afterward Major Warren was killed, and in the course of time the b grew up, and at the time of the marriage of Nellie Grant to Sartoris was at work in New York. It will be remembered that Gen. Grant accompanied his beloved duughter to New York to bid her farewell before Ler departure for Europe. “Lsaw the parting,” said young Warren to the writer recently, “and I’never saw a more deeply moved than Grant. ‘The tears but when the parting poured from his was finally over the people crowded abont, and there ou the wharf he held s sort of informal reception. I pressed forward and took his hand. He looked at me a few seconds and then said: “I know your face. Where have 1 even ‘ou before?” “In your cabi ing about 2 o'cloc! the Wilderness, one morn- Mr. President, I was with my father, who was carrying dispatches from Gen. Hancock té Gen. Meade.” “Oh, yes, Maj. Warren. I remember him well, poor fellow. And so you are the little boy who was with him? You have grown quite Come and see me. I liketo see my old comrades and their children, too.” STONE FOR BUILDINGS When This Material and Slate Were First Employed in Houses. AX INTERESTING TALK WITH PROF. WERRILL oF THE NATIONAL MUSEUN—LENOTH OF LIFE OF TRE DIFFERENT KINDS OF STONE AXD MARBLE— RESISTANCE TO BEAT AND COLD. HE USE OF STONE IN THE ORNA- mentation of houses and other buildings te of comparatively recent date. One bundred and fifty years ago people were too poor to build their homes of other material than brick or wood. As wealth increased towns grew into cities and there was a demand for more durable and ornamental material. Prof. George P. Merrill of the National Museum is well posted on the subject of building and ornamental stones. and to him @ STAN representative ap- plied for Tmation. “When did stone first come into ue ae building material?” was asked. “In the early part of the eighteenth con- turs, about 1720, the first stone was quarried in Massachusetts. It was not, however, until the early part of this century that granite | began to be used in and about Boston, In the arries at Quincy began As carly as 1792 granite 4 to pave been opencd at Marble quar Ties were first) work jedale, € in the year 1800. San Tying was first undertak. d were considered © wed until 166 ® voted “that whoever shall dig or one at ver thy st wide ot the river (now Portland) for any without the town, the said digger «nall be none b nhabitant of Mada. shall be re towne 12 } for stones that he or they aball digg person whospever without the towne” ‘What about slate for roofing purposes?" hat ts also a: ry of recent origin, and few of the siate quarries have been in Operation more than twenty or thirty years The prevalence of slate tombstones, however, in many of our older chur juarried from a much earlier period for other purposes than roofing.” ~To what extent are building stones affected by heat and cold? CONDUCTING POWER AND ELASTicrrT. “Stones, as a rule, possess but a low conduct ing power and slight elasticity. They are ag- Gregates of minerals, more or less closely co- hering, cach of which possesses degrece of expansion and contraction of its own. As our temperature is ever changing, and within the Space of twenty-four hours many vary as much as forty degrees, 0 within the mass of the stone there i inual movement among ite particles. Slight movements may be, asiow and gradual weakening and disintegra- st ensue. Thus Banker Hill monument, a hollow granite obclink feet square 1 fect bigh by 30 . *wings from side to side with the progress of the sun during « sunny day, so thnt a pendulum suspended from nter of the top describes an irregular pearly half an incbin greatest dianicier Similar effects, but in « less marked degree, have been observed on the south and west sides of the Smithsonian building. The effects of moderate upon stone of ordinary however, slight when “compared with the destructive energies of freezing temperatures upon stones eeturated with moirture. At a temperature of 30 degrees Pahrenhest the pressure exerted by water passing from « liquid to a solid state @mouuts to 155 tons to the square foot, or equal to the weight of « column of ice a mile high. Is it then astonishing that a porous sandstone exposed ina house front to be saturated with & Winter's rain and then subjected to tempera- tures perhaps several degrees below the freez- ing point shows signs of weakness and exfolin- tion after a single season's exposure? Henco the conclusion is natural that those stones are most durable, which will absorb and retain the least moisture.” “How do you test the power of stones to Withstand the effects of frox “The best method is to actually expose pre- pared blocks to such a temperature, when satu- Fated with water, as to freeze them solid and then note the amount of disintegration or loss in strengtl Uf course at all seesons of the year this cannot be done, and grtificial methods must be used.” RPSISTANCE To HEAT. “What building stunes best resist heat?” “The injurious effects of artificial heat, such as is produced by a burning building, are, of course, Greater iu proportion ws the tem ture is higher. Sufficient and reliable date cannot Ue had for accurately estimating the compat enduring power of stoves andor these circumstances. It seems, however, to be well proven that of all stones granite is the least fire proof, while the fact that certain of the fing grained siliceous sandstones are used for furnace backings would seom to how that if not absolutely tire proof they are very neatly #0. It must, however, be understood that the sudden coating of the surface of « heated «tone, caused by repeated dashes of cold water, bas often more to do with its disintegration tham heat alone. Granite was for a long time po} larly believed to be a nearly fire-proof ome The great fires of Portland, Boston and Chi- cago uot merely exploded this idea, but proved the contrary to be true—that instead of being the most fire proof it was the least so, ranking below either sand or lime stone. The peculiar susceptibility of this stone to the effect of leat may be ascribed to its compact and complex structure, each of its coustituent materials possessing different degrees of expansion. has also been suggested by certain authors that the minute water-filled cavities in the converted into steam and an explosio Causing the quartz to fly in fragments. LIVE OF BUILDING STONE: “What is the maximum number of years that stones have been found to last without dis- coloration or disintegration?” “The ‘life’ of building stones, of course, varies largely and the following table may be of public interest: Lite in yoars Coairse brown stone..... Sto 15 Fine laminated brown stone. 20 to 50 Compact brown stone . 100 to 500 Blue stone (sandstone) untried, probably centuries. Nova Scotia sandstone, untried, possibly. . 50 to 202 Ohio sandstone (Vest siliceous) from one to many centuries. And yet Granthad just passed through one of the most trying ordtals of his life—the part- ing with his favorite child. The memory of the man was something wonderful. JUDGE HOUK's Tact. ‘The late Judge Houk of ‘Tennessee, for many years a member of Congress, was an odd char- ‘acter in his His district was republican by a large majority and the democrats resorted to many schemes to beat him. On’one ocea- sion several years ago the democratic candidate was a man named Williams—Tom Williams, as he was known by his intimates. In some way Williams became possessed of a copy of an old circular Ictter written many yours ago by Judge Houk in which he declared against negro suffrage. Armed with this document, Williams parsdcd the district and im every specch read the letter. _Houk could not dea; it, and his friends were very much worried. Not so the judge. He took the stump, and in the course of is speech referred to the letter. “I did write that letter, my friends,” said he. ‘Idon’t deny it, but when I wrote it I didn't have any more sense than Tom Williams has now.” The letter was never heard of again in that campaign. —-—_ ‘The Empress of Austria’s New Palace, From the Galiznani Messenger. ‘The Empress of Austria has a taste for such is the empress’ craze—it is built and fur- nished after a model. ‘There is not Sterne tenreeerss it through at Gastein. en £m the royal housebold a start. Early in the day she had gone on ition and when dark- Coarse tossilitcrous limestone. Wto «0 Fine volitic (French) limestone. Wwe Marble (coarse dolomitic). “o Marble (fine dolomitic). Oto so Marble (tine). ° 50 to 100 Gneiss fifty years to many centuries “Is serpentine much used as « building material: “Oh, yes,” said Prof. Merrill, “tit is in great favor. It 'is w soft, though somewhat tough, compact rock of ‘variable color, usually green ish, although often variously streaked and spotted with yellow, yellowish green, brownish, or more rarely red. The name serpentine is from the Latin serpentines, a serpent, owing to ate color and «potted appearance. Owing to its softness, which is such that it ean be carved or turned ona lathe, and its beautifal colors when polished, serpentine has long been a favorite with all civilized nations for orna- ments and interior decorative work. Serpentine, however, for ornamental work is at the " time scarcely ever quarried in the United States, although inexhaustible quantities are found in many instances and of exceptionally fine quality.” Mr, Flannels—“Ah, by th’ way, heard the what did she have on?” “Wise men hesitate; only fools are certain,” remarked a Montcalm street man to his wife a “I don't know about that,” she said “Well, I'm certain of it,” he that she. testily. em-