Evening Star Newspaper, November 7, 1891, Page 7

§ YOVANNI AND THE OTHER. | BY FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT. ‘ittem for The Evening Star. (Copyrighted. Paar IL CHAPTER IIL by pan LITTLE SALON OUT OF WHICH ‘one stepped on to the white marble balcony vasa very pretty one. Itebad not been par- valarly pretty when the lady in black and er friend first took possession of it. Then it ‘ad worn the usual ungarnished air of nearly hotel rooms. Now it was quite bright and wy. The curiosity shops had been levied upon ‘or antique brocades, for rich, tenderly faded old vestments whose colors of a hundred or two re were ‘theres there were studies of nts YT the Citte Vecchia and branches of orange and eucalyptus blossom; violets. “He bad always been used to seeing me wear en be sooter aid. “Wien beware littie fellow he used to bring me all he could ‘ind in the garden. And the first time he was London he saw some crystallized bunches in « confectioner’s in Regent street, and he spent all his pennies to buy me some, and brought them tome fora present with such innocent pride. When he was ill and people sent him ywers be used to say to his nurse: ‘Give all the violets to mammie. All the violets are for ar.’ When he went to sleep that last day I yvered him with them. In the medallion with s miniature, which I always wear, there is ae shut inside with him. They mean so much » me now.” When they were walking or driving together yand the girl with the gray eyes used to sit this little salon among the flowers and soft aicrsand talk of their problems and dreams sad imaginings. They & great many. Theirs was very dear friendship. They loved and understood each other very tenderly deompletely. They had the same emotions, «same fancies There was néver any danger » One could be too imaginative or subtle for ® other. They had tho samo tastes and vmpathies, and the shades in which they varied only gave interest to their thoughts and aed. ‘The evening after they had met Giovanni was mild and warm and the windows on the ucony were open. ‘The lady in black lay upon e sofa with many cushions. Lh, she midst of their quiet talk the strings of sitar were touched in the garden below. It -s rather a good guitar and the opening bars + @ song were being played. “Some one is going to sing,” said the lady in “ack, “but it is not Giovanni. He is always ath the harpist.” Ang then they heard the sing# begin his song. “It'S far from being Giovanni's voice,” ex- siméd Gertrude. ““Poor thing, how bad it is!” Her friend raised her head to listen. “And it is a boy’s voice, too,” she said, “but soundsall strained and cracked. Ab, how tiful! He ought not to sing at all.” “It is strained,” said Gertrude. “Poor boy, .* bag been a good voice once—perbaps as good ao GlvcenstS Dus be hee been singing too much and has forced it until it ig broken. What a cruel pi It was piteous enough thing to hear—the 0.7 voice rising from among the palms and 2ses below. It was so roughened, so strained and broken. “It makes me sa@,” said the mother. “It sounds so mournful ‘rising out of the dark. Giovanni comes and sings in the morning when all the world is full of sunshine, and he seems like a happy young bird. This poor boy stands alone there in the darkness.as if he knew his - helplessness and did not care tobe seen. I wonder if Giovanni knows him; if he knows | Giovanni, and if it is not a bitter thing for him. Let us go and look at him.” They went out to ‘the balcony and looked down, but they could not really see the singer. They could only imagine they saw a shadow, might, after all, be art of the shade be- hind some orange trees. But the poor, hoarse voles struygled through thesong to the end. ns the window to throw him money,” said the lady in bintk. “They dost want to bear him. Ido not want to bear him it is too sad—but I shall throw him money. He needs it more than Giovanni. Everybody wantshim. No ‘one wants the poor other one. ilver in an envelope and adow seemed to move forward slowly, as if with a dragging step. “Do you know,” said the lady in black, “I have a fancy that’ he really does not care to be seen. Let us go back to the salon.” And they slipped quietly away. Ihis was the opening of the story of “The Other.” It was asad story and he was never more than ashadow. They always called him “The Other” and they never saw him. But they spoke of him even more than they spoke of Giovanni, whom they saw three times a reck. Somehow the poor cracked voice singing in the darkness ha touched them very much. It twas to evident that it had been & beautiful ‘Yoiee once and that only bad management, ant Perhaps, bad Leaith, bad been ite Sain” “Do you know who the poor boy is who sang last night?” they asked the concierge. “No, madam.” was the answer—thongh the eoncierge usually knew everything. ‘He does not come often and it is always dark. It is very bad—his singing. Tho people do not like it. say it distarbs them, it isso bad.” “It is too Inte to save his voice now,” the two to each other afterward, “but if Re cys do something kind for him it would be a omfort.” Only it was plain that he did not wish to be seen. He eame only rarely and always at night, and always stood in the shadow of the trees. So they could only throw him money and go Dack to their salon and talk to each other about oe w they never could hear Giovanni or ik of bim without speaking also of “The “Ne one but ourselves throws him mone: _ said the lady in black, sadly, once. “Perhaps he fs poor snd comes just for what he gets from us. It makesit ali the sadder. Think of about from place te }, piteous voice, and knowing that no one wishes to listen, and that if mone: is given it saly from pity ox to rid one’s self of the a: moyanice of hearing. To me it seems a sort of Itis tragic if he isa boy who feels ks. I cannot help hoping that he does not know Giovanni and so cannot feel the con- trast, Giovanni is so rosy and strong and ip—I feel as if ‘The Other’ must be thin ‘and pale.” ‘& story to 704, too,” said Gertrude. and I cannot make anything but a one.” - _, Because it was.a sad one her mind dwelt on She found herself wondering each day if at broken voice would sing in the dark. nothear it more than half it was heard on no stated day. it is wrong even to throw the money said. “It may be that it eneour- sing.and perhaps if be did not sing Lis poor voice a rest it might Do you think it might, Ger- Rot,” far gone. they sent the concierge to come to their salon to ink to 8 4 a Fi : ey 3 ? Gertrude answered. “I'm = ge ft Rss Hi! i cy ig afternoon, evidently fecling a ut looking rosy and pleased. too much simple success and good Fe ly true that he was not the , ambitious musical genius of ‘was a simple, well-favored, a Httle peasant, fond of music in impassioned way and appre- fortane which had oem They found out that he to school; that he had been taught tain -"Mactee it to train itz. HI z i Ly j i 1 | H ei i ‘voice. bad sometimes et eee a8) ry F voice?” asked tire lady in black. the says it is a good. voice.” and not short time it will change into ® young man’s voice. And if you force itand goon singing while it is changing you may forever. Bus it yor are care it may such @ ‘s—as everyboiy shall care to bear. Has Maestro Mecheri told you that?” ‘Us was plain that ‘iam Mecheri was not iH “He that I must not mack er! antares live well and m CF i H “Have you ever thought to choose music for pro! your voice‘and train it and be = mi Singer?” She je, with a sense of some ward uncortainty. He was so good-temperedly Promic about it aL ¥ le smiled and gave a little shrug of shoulders. “I should like it," he said. -““Some- times they make fortanes, the have good voices and sing on “Yes,” said the lady in black ‘A beantifal| ‘Good voice ism great gift and brings great fortune sometimes When you stop singing in the street it would be a good thing for you to goto| “ day, school again if you could. It would have been at work you to learn other things better—t Cola There is quite a good voice and study music more easily—if the time | are small There has not been enough rain.” came when you wanted to it, Maes “That is "answered Maestro Mecheri. Mecheri would tell you that, too. “We have needed rain for many weeks. Ihave “Itis ible,” said Giovanni come to talk with you about Giovanni.’* oftenest I must not {Has anything gone wrong with him?” she must not vagabond about at boy we knowof who had a fine voice—it was said Maestro Mecheri, “he has good very fne——" luck, that He bas a fine voice and is lady in black and the irl- with the gra; eyes leaned a little more petted ng no aoc iiare lecheri_says his voice was even better than mine. People gave him great deal of money when he sang. But Was not like me. He was ngtso s tro Mecheri said, little elderly man rose ‘entrance. itta,” he said. ful, handsome face. It is good luck to be born looking Hike that. It has possibly made his for- tune for him.” hat way, Santa Maria?” exclaimed = He was always Brigit forestieri have ways of their own,” said and havin; the “There are two signoras who talking abou; g fancies of what he might maestro, he grew up. He had have heard him sing and have taken afancy to signore came from America, and it bad | him.” put ideas into his head. Me,” with a brigh 3 ” Brigitta interru simple smile, ‘I have no ideas. The farhona= pe" of their hotel a him to come to they made him restless.” thei snfon the ‘other day. Giovanni told me “The other !” exclaimed the lady in black, in | about it. It wns all hung with old brocadesand English. And she and the girl with ‘the gray bgp and fans, such as one sees in the shops eyes looked at cach other again. for antiquities, and it was filled with flowers, “They spoiled him,” Giovanni went on. “He there were many pictures of a boy who is used to sing too much. Maestro Mecheri said | dead. His mother ves the one who sent the he was too impatient and he ought to have let concierge to Giovanni.” his voice rest. He was older thanL He gota “Yes,” said Maestro Mecheri, “that is it, and it. That is why I say they have cold and m to cough, and he could Ct not wait until it was better. He was hoarse | ways of their own, the forestieri. Most people and he was afraid he had lost his voice, and he | when achild dies—if they are rich—bury him finely and have masses said and hang blaek and “they sent the would keep trying it to see if it had come back. oy white wreaths on histomb. They are But it sounded cracked and harsh. And he lost patience and to vagabond about at | very handsome, those bead wreaths with ‘mio night. Often he did not go to bed until 2 or 3 | figlio’ or. ‘ma modre,’ and other~sentiments in the morning. Now his voice is quite gone and Maestro Mecheri says it will not return” “What is his name?” asked Gertrude. Giovanni gave his shade of a shrug again. upon them. Ihave even seen a little weeping willow made of green is bending over & headstone. There are beautiful orn “Ido not remember,” he said. “Ido not | must be rich, but she seems to have queer ideas; know him. Maestro me as a/she did not explain them much tome, but warning.”* gathered some of her fancies from some few ‘There is a boy who comes and sit before | things she said. It seems as if she was not con- the hotel at night sometimes,” said ‘the lady in | tent that the boy’s life should be ended on earth black. “We have noticed that his voice has|and continue only in Paradise. She has a been spoiled. Perhaps that is he.” strange wish that he should seem still to live “Yes, that is possible,” said Giovanni. “The forestieri used to fke to hear him and he went to all the hotels. They say there was a rich signora at one hotel who was a singer herself, and had made her fortune, and she asked him into her salon one night and made him sing for her; and he 4 her so much that she told him he would have « wonderful life, and she gave him 25 francs for himeelf. They sa; with an innocently amused air, “that kissed him.” “And now his voice is quite gone?” exclaimed the lady in black. “Maestro Mecheri saysit is lost forever. He should not havo hed ideas —and strained itaua become such a vagabond. He said it quite simply and without any air of ill nature or severity. He seemed to be merely stating facts. “Where does he live? I wish you knew his name, the lady in black said. “I think he fives somewhere in the Citta Senbe tate donot know where. Ho is i ey say, and seldom goes out now. He caught more cold. That was a bad thing for him.” He went away soon afterward. They had learned where his mother lived and that Maestro Mecheri might be found and talked to. They had not made any promises or suggested to him the possibility of their having plans. He went off witha present of money in his pocket and smiles on his good-looking face. A few minutes before he went, as he was belt shown a book of Tuscan songs, he stood near a table which held one of the pictures of the boy with the shadowy dark eyes. “Is this the signorino who sings Italian and is in America?” he asked. in black took up another picture on earth and do things for other boys. it is singular, but it is a good thing for Giovanni. She came to see me about him.” Brigitta made a gesture of amazement. Her eves aad been wide open before, now her mouth oper “Yes,” continued the maestro, scratching his izzled, cufling poll, “she has a wish that this of hers—who is in Paradise—should hel, Giovanni. ‘She did not say it exactly, but could see she had some fancy—I guessed it from her face and from her voice, which trembled when she spoke. Iam not a dull fellow.” Vhat does she want to do?” said Brigitta. “It makes one feel strange—euch an idea. [ am not sure I like it. It might bring ill-fortune— like the evil eye—to have a person who is dead watching over one.” Maestro Mecheri shrugged his shoulders. “That is stupid,” he said. “It is the idea of a int.”. He knew that Brigitta was a peas- sat and quite ® common and ordinary one, and. he, who was a professional person con- nected ed jd ya be _ —— speaking toher. “It is a go ing for Giovanni, and her plans are sensible in spite of her fancies. Shé says that he hasa voice which might bring him fame and fortune if he does not strain it by singing too long and if it is trained afterward. She says that out of the fortune of her son she will pay you a sum which will make it possible for you and Cola to afford to let him stop singing in the street, and he shall go to school for a year or so until his voice is changed. I am to watch over him and Jet her know when it will be safe to begin train- ing him. And I am in the meantime to teach him all I know about music, that it may help The lady him, when he can begin practicing.” and passed it to him. “It is like a romance,” said Brigitta, staring. “No,” she said gently, “this isthe one who | “They have ideas—the foresticri. it is w is in America.” they have money also.” cihis box wore lace-rufled fancy dress and _2lgestro Mecheri rubbed his chin and looked a ntly happy. and laugh: eves. | at wi ‘& superi scrut Itwas He leaned carelessly enbinet | oourap aniural teat « woman should and locket ont at the ‘a8 if mere | not understand all this’ * mean. boyish life itself wae a delightful “It may make a rich man of him,” he said. thing. Giovanni r him with mterest. It e4 “If his voice is » very fine one—as I think it evident to him that this signorine had been | will be—be may make a great forture. He may in great clties, pertape before the king, the impresarior will’ pay him immengs born to good fortune. He was smiling himself sing a sume svery night. It was co with Mario, it is as he laid it down. “And —. he said, looking at the first picture. “Does he also sing—and is he in| so with Patt. There is nothing so valuable as America?” & yoice all the world wants to hear.” ‘The boy in the picture—his noble young face | Brigitta laughed a littl turned slightly over his shoulder—seemed to| “One cannot bring one’s mind all at once to meet the young peasant'seyes with asoft, ques- thleking that of one's own child,” she said. tioning glance. For the moment it was as if | “It would be queer enough to think of Giovanni they two had looked at each other almost as ing before the king!” they might have done if they had stood face to ace. “This one,” said Giovanni after = moment's lence, “‘is ‘he the brother of the other sig- norine—and where is he?” Fhe girl with the gray eyes laid her hand softly on his shoulder and spoke in a low voice, even softer than her touch. he has good fortune,” ssid Maestro Mech- , “that may all come in time. The signora wished me to see you and Cola and explain to you and ask you if you were willing. She is Boing away’ soon ‘herself and wishes it ar- ran, Brigitta laughed a little vaguel; 5 fou must come and seo Cola” se tad. piace singing in that | had these qi dozen | th “You must com “You will not be such imbeciles as to refuse?” said the Macstro, “What one has, one has,” she answered, “and dne cannot be sure of what his voice will be when he isa young man. But as she will givo something to make up to ne for losing his work now, Ido not think Cola will care. And as for me it is all the same so that one has ¢omething in one’s hand.” “He could not sing more than s year,” said the maestro. “You know how the other boy's voice was lost and how he broke down. was magnificent,” with another rub at bis griz- zled curls and a queer look and tone of regret. one,” she said, “he died three months age CHAPTER Iv. Brigitta climbed slowly up the steep, nar- Tow streets of the Citta Vecchia—the strects which were so narrow as to be mere passages between the old, old houses, protected against the ruin of possible earthquakes by the many archways thrown across from wall to wall. It was these old houses and narrow, passage-like Steep streets and unexpected archways which nee ; “It was magnificent. He would have sung be- oa See ye elma simply the | fore the king—it could not have been other- Serestieticlind tp tote hee ct make | ise. It was a great misfortune for him. “You mean the son of Lisa?” said Brigitta. P madame last night, and she is almost mad, say.” Ye stro Mecheri’s look of regret took ona dden qi he said. “Poverinp! Poverino!” id for months,” said “He has been 4: Brigitta, “but she Soak not tec b it. He “And he until he was worn to a sk hed Maestro Mecheri. jung before kings! It was @ won- is dead,” said Brigitta, unemotion- sketches of corners of it. It seemed a marvel- ous old piace to the forestieri, and during the winter season, when the hotels and villas were filled with them, the peasants in the “old city” became quite used to seeing groups of two or three well-dressed people rambling about, stopping to look up the dark, narrow stone Ft ys or tiny, iron-barred windows, or de- lighting themselves with a tumble-down wallora crumbling arch, with green weeds sproutin, out of its stones, high inthe vir. The forestier! | ™! ueer ways. They who were rich and lived in the grand hotels and mhite villas and wore wonderful garments would stop and fe died last night.” watch s serious mule or donkey. laden’ with (To be continued.) faggote or sacks of olives, stumbling honestly ee up the hillside streets, its burden almost tonch- ing walls on each si: at it as if it was a wonder, and as if the peasant woman walking beside it, with her weather- worn dark face, framed with a red or yellow and green handkerchief tied over her’ black hair and under her chin, as if she were s won- der, too. And sometimes they had been known to make sketches of both. as if there were not | poems of “The World's Fair, 1876," and “ real ani grand pictures of Madonnas and saints | pora Mutantur.” In that letter Mr. n and angels in the fine pictui of the i 3 “cities they were alwaysSambling abous | 80%: “I had just come home from a two years 1d to visit. ‘The ts thought that Lowell Defends His Americanism. ‘The Century for November prints a flew por- trait of Lowell, a review of his works by Prof. Woodberry, the poet, and a letter from Lowell, written in 1876, in which he explains privately his motive in writing his historical patriotic stay in Europe. so it was discovered that I had been corrupted by association with f Aristocracies! I need not say to you that the soclety I frequented in Europe was w! at home, that of my wife, my studies and the best nature and art within my reach. But I confess that I was embittered by my experience. Wherever I went I was put on fensive. Whatever extracts I saw from American pa Brigitta—who was Giovanni's mother—did not suspect for a moment that she was pic- turesque. She did not know what picturesque meses, he od by the yan oe _ called her a pretty ears fore she had married Cola and baa had children and ghing wits teeth and’ Doght oyes wi it on her brown cheeks anda But now she considered Iwas ey shocked, for I bad aes : HE i E z nF ii AE ay Gt i i 3 a a . ae ae WASHINGTON, D. C.,. SATURD. Sketches From Life by a Barge Office Phy- PICTURESQUE HEADGEAR FROM ALL QUARTERS— TT OPES AS FAR AS THE BATTERY, BUT MUST ‘THEN GIVE WAY TO THE BOWERY DERBY axD ‘THR MILLINERY OF DIVISION STREET. > ‘From the New York Sun. . : There is usually nothing particularly striking about the dress of cabin passengers ¢f foreign nationality who and from ocean-crossing steam- ers. They are generally cosmopolited, and the attire of one civilized person of wealth and fashion is pretty nearly the same as that of another. We must look in the steerage for-na- tional characteristics in dress, manner and Speech. Some of the peasant immigrants bring with them the simple—and sometimes: ent—drers, and a suggestion of the lecal color and atmosphere of the far-away in which they passed their lives up to the time the allure- Seats of ile fn See western world wast ee ither. A few of the plebeian women of Europe ‘et weave their own headdress. There are Bonnets and cape that indicate nationality fast as surely as faces and dialects, But are not so numerous as they used to be. Civilization is the deadly foe of picturesque- ness. The clatter of the sabot, frequently heard on the floors of old Castle toes than twenty-five years ago, creates tise andremark when heard nowadays. The dress of most of the immigrants is not very differen! from that of poor folks in nearly all ef lands. But there are exceptions to the rule, and that is what makes the barge officéinterest- ing. Dr. Newborn, the assistant to Dr. Toner, chief of the barge office medical staff, probably pays more attention to th int, voliar and pretty things that the immigrants wear than any one else in the granité building. That is because he is an artiat as well as a physician. Sketching heads and theit adorn- ments is tho doctor's forte, and those that em- bellish this article are from his facile peneil. Ofall the immigrants that pass before the doctor's eyes the Italians probably are the most interesting from the standpoint of an artist. ‘This is especially true of the women. They have the barbaric love for ornament and color, and some of them are almost prismatic tobe taken by an imaginative for carnated rainbows. In the following pictures wo have the Italian woman as she commelonall appears among tho dusky, gesticulating, cl Siting throng ef bec countrymen and women and as she usually is seen. occastoxaLt. AS A RULE. The headdress on the right is familiar to all New Yorkers who have been in the neighbor- hood of the “Bend.” Very often the woman who carries it, as she emerges from the ba office, also has several pieces of baggage in her hands and a brood of toddlers clinging to, her skirts. The hend of the family folipws her, carrying nothing except the burden of his lazy Loa si ate ous baea tis not often that the ear-ringed, spruce- looking kind of Italian, whose head is pictured below on the left, lands the ba office. His hair isintensely black and brightly ole- aginous, his greenish hat is adorned with 8 peacock feather, and he holds himself aloof from his brethren who wear the band- less basin-like hat of the bearded Neapolitan on the right. ‘A PATRICIAN. ONE OF THE PEOPLE. The bandless hat is the cheapest made, and the cheapest laborer who comes into the ‘port of New York is the man who wears this hat. Even the poverty-stricken Slovaks from tho north and northwest mountain district of Hungary, accustomed to the most rigid econ- Omy, cannot compete with the wearers of the bandiess hat in their chosen field of labor, the railroads and in the mines of this country. A type of Irishman that may be seen only at long intervals is presented on the left. ‘EXILES OF ERIN. He was a specimen of the fine old Irish gen- fleman. His bell-crowned beaver resembled the one that made Benjamin Browster famous. It was white and fazzy, and its possessor was proud of it. He carried the blackthorn indie- pensable to true Irish gentility, and spoke with a delightful brogue. The’ old lady on the right has been caricatured in a thousand theaters by variety artists. Everybody who has ever visited an Irish settlement is with the crooning old creature. SICILIANS. air of Sicilians were more gorgeously arrayed than most of their countrymen. The cap of the rather * pleasant-looking young man on the left was made of black a ably by his dark-eyed sweetheart—and the tassel was formed of knotted silk cord. The cap of the theatrical, elderly man, who was muiiied in an inky cloak, was embroidered in gold. He was very willing to be sketched and took an immense delight in posing, to which he was, apparently, much addicted by nature. He had tho grand, gloomy and peculiar air of a Napo- leon born out of his time. The peasant women of Alsace, with the dis- tinetive headdress of which they are all proud, are seen only once inalong time among the untidy hordes that crowd into the land of op- tunity. The Alsatians are nota tory people. ‘They ate permeated, with thet home. loving, patriotic stincts of the French na- ture and will not leave their native villages un- less they are absolutely sure of bette condition. The headdress ofthe Alsatian woman in the picture was made of. black silk. It consisted of a ribbon about twelve “inches wide. tied, as shown, in an enormous bow, by pieces of cardboard hidden under the silk. This is the prevailing fashion among the sants of - _Althongh it may tost her jer Inst franc (or mark) the peasant girl of Alsace will have her Ke syg om resm She also takes much delight in her hair, which is usually luxuriant and bangs in two plaits down her back. The longer the plaite the Pprouder are the girls that — Is with th of the glory of girls with a scanty growth of glory sex increase the lengths of their plaite by mingling false huir with the real. ap ears the Rhine, in the German girls have the same headdress as their Alsatian sisters, with the wings of the bow inverted. ALSATIANS. Folks who have been in the market within easy access of (4 AS ‘RUSSIAN HEBREWS. Anybody who has passed through the popa- lous Jewish quarter on the east tide ot town has the outlined above. of the gray-bearded old made of wool. He came and often saved his ears frost bite by pulling his hat far that his head looked as jhe other old fellow wore cap that is more frequently seen in ofice than any other except the pair left their country the persecution of the Russian HOLLANDERS. Hore we have two ancestors of future Knick- erbookers, woman wore. two lace caps, the under one fitting close to the head, being held in place partly by a gold’ the onds of which terminating just in front the cars were ir. is a hard-working, frugal, inde- mdent soul, but he is not much imbued with Ho will think it all and the baby while he ‘complacently jome’ bo. hind smoking his long pipe. He does not sce anything wrong in his wife do the drudgery of traveling. sentiments on the subject of chivalry are about tho same as those of the Ametican Indian. | PORTUGUESE. Probably less than thousand people from the ¢unny land where the originals of the two sketches above were born come to this coun- try in a year. are Portuguese, and no chase of iinmigrants are r OF more picturesque. yy usually arrive in the spring, iit he iaceare ger They wear ight, brightly ittle han y wear light, brightly colored clothes. The hat of the man in the pic- ture was not, as might be conjectured at first sight, of the kind popular in the French revo- lution. | It was circled with stripes of red, blue and yellow, and was much too gaudy even for the semi-tropical taste of some of its wearer's companions. He probably put it away in his trunk for use in the house as a smoking cap when he got to Fall liver the day after he landed af the barge office. | His. wife wore asa headdréss @ gauzy olive-tinted shawl. All the Portuguese seem to be dreamy, indolent and happy trio of heads that are often seen are pre- sented below. > . POLE, SCOT, HUNGARIAN. ‘The young man at the top of the group was a Polish ‘peasant. He was bound for the Penn- sylvania coal mines, where hundreds of his fellow countrymen are now toiling. The hat he wore is worn by hundreds of immigrants who land every day from eastern and central | Europe. The jaunty young fellow on the left {s, a9 is apparent from bis cap, & Scot. A ‘angarian—not a poor and gloomy Slo- ak from the hillswore the rousd Tur. cap with @ button on it, That is popular with a large class of Hungarians, XN AFGHAN. HINDOO. An Afghan, who brought a trunk filled with inferior garnets to this country under the im- presalon they were rubies, was rigged aloft like man on the left of the foregoing cut. His turban-like headdress was gorgeogs. Only woman used to unraveling the prismatic mys- teries of Easter bonnets could describe it. It was a nightmare in yellow, gold, red and white. The Afghan wore it one day on the street and then laid it sadly away in his trank with the | geo that the American public wouldn't buy for rubies. A museum man who read about the Afghan invited him to exhibit himself for $25 a week, but he was a self-respecting person if he didn’t know garnets from rubies, and he wouldn't make a shew of himself. The co} colored man on the right wasan East Indian. The tower of light muslin he wore attracted so much attention in the first ward when he strolled ont into Battery Park that he fled back into the barge office. Heand the Afghan after- ward appeared on the streets with gold-em- broideried rimless hate that the Parsee nrer- chants sometimes wear. The young man whose face is — an on the left below wore suche hat. The commercial Hindoo seldom ANOTHER HINDOO, dwells gland us. He brings a lot of Indian goods ia hie trunk, disposes of them ata hand- some anc turns’ whence he eaile back to his native land en ROUMANIAX. Chocolate is not verygood without\vanilla finvoring. There aro plenty of other delicious things which would not be so at ail without its aid. It entors into the mannfacture of candy, pastry, ices, liqueurs, cordials and even fumery. The bean is found in almost every vine of the orchid kind, thriving best a ‘and expose to the Thus Shey attain dark brown color at the two months, when they are bunched and packed’ in tin boxes for exporting. second method consists in ose seed per of Mexican origit imt the beans in boiling water until they become white. ‘They are then exposed fora few hours to the sun, after which they are covered with oil of the cash nut. There are four qualities of vanilla and these ere determined by the length and size of the bean, it being found that the flavor and per- fame are in direct ratio to the weight aad measurement. The best and lai exud thei almost pure benzoic aci When one buys chocolate it is found of varying prices. confectioner's you will find it at 50 cents a pound, 75 cents, $1, and even higher. How- ever, the quality of the chocolate i same. you go to a first-rate consumer. All tioner employs a new hand, usually a woman, he turns her loose among the candies and re- quests that she help herself. Thus her appe- tite becomes immediately If the most avid devourer of sweetmeats were asked to consume in her lifetime a Venus of Milo containing, like the one described, 1,925 pounds of chocolate and deliciously flavored with vanilla, it is likely that she would lose off- hand and forever her appetite for ail such delicacies. ———~. + THE CHILDREN OF DICKEXS. ‘Nothing in Their Careers to Show the Her- edity of Genius, From the Chicago Graphic. ‘The second son of Dickens was Francis Geof- fry Dickens. And some of us who have mixed the newspaper life of London and Chicago and Calcutta knew him well, for one must write the sad past tense. Dear Frank Dickens was born in the year 1841—he was the fourth child. In his note Book the novelist wrote: ‘ “A plump and merry little chap, this second son of mine.’ Poor little chap! He caught the Fleet street fever and went ink mad; he caught the Dahooley fever and flashed and fleshed and blooded his sword in India; he fought Louis Riel in Canada—a) and captured Big Bear; hi ‘hicag. and gampled away his money in a Clark street he died ‘one windy, sleety gambling house; e eame to Cl eee grim little Llinois town—Moline. re he is buried. But his brother Henry did well; won the second scholarship at Trinity Hall at the age of twenty and was twenty-ninth wrangler in fair year, when the wrang] is now a successful barrister, with a wife and five children. And the danghters of Dickens? is unmarried; the other is Mrs. Perugini, x deserved! inter. she has dot ing the provinees. No—genius is not hereditary. were over forty. 1 third, Mary, A Song for All Seasons. Ah! little one, it is a me ‘Say wo and world: jornt "Tis all in say-80. Dare the sharp thistle and the prickly thorn, cy make If tis a merry wort thy lay go: then T Witt pluck the Worn and whistle ough I ery. ‘Thou, youth, aince life id be not Say’ so, am isall in love, thou too jus cast down; “Tie all in say-80. And if on thee doth nongh thown, eee Aeumaketty lay sot d in bundles beans sort of crystal frosting, which covers jurface. These crystals are found to be about the ‘The difference is in the amount of va- nilla. This difference is not sufficient to be of any importance in the cost of production, but the flavor is improved p price is put on with a due respect for imagination. of the same the Venus of Milo maker's window wduld be flavorless indeed without the aid of this humble bean from the south. It is said that when a confec- ortionately and the the the in the candy cloyed by surfeit. ye, 0 The oldest Ritts” ly, well-known portrait Mrs. “Kittie's” fame—if one must be fairly accurate—is a wee, small affair, but then e something; she has painted the portrait of that baronet of baccarat, Sir. William Gordon Cumming. Mr. Junior Charies Dickens has three daugh- ters. ‘Two of them ran 8 ty; lishment off Covent Garden, is playing small parts in a stock company tour- writing estab- f “i i f: iH i i 1 i i & stick. The soft, moist fungus is dropped from the animal's jaws, and, before he cau again pick it fp oy Seige oy er The amateur in bulbs did so. “It does «mell like an onion,” he adraitted. An appeal to the grocer's man settled the question, and the affuir was a subject of con- troversy for three months afterward between the and the victim of his wife's litte bulbous deception. IMPORTED BULBS THIS SEASON. This is the season of the year when the bulbs imported from Holland arrive in this country for market. They are mostly tulips, crocuses and hyacinths. “Considerable quantities of bulbs also come from the south of France, par ticularly early Roman hyacinths. Daffodils and white narcissus are grown in England mostly, but also in Holland to some extent. Easter lilies are cultivated largely in the south of France, but the demand i mostly supplied nowadays by the Bermudas, because those ob- tained from thence ripen and flower earliest. Many callg lily bulbs come from Californin, where the growing of them is becoming quite extensive fieids being planted out. Carolina produces most of the tuberose Lilies of the valley are nearly all from Germany. In Holland vast tracts of dike lands are de- voted to the growing of bulbs, and the fields of them in that country and elsewhere in Europe offord at the season of blooming a most beaut- ful spectacle. After the bulbs have been gath- ered they are dried for months in a cool piace, being cured in this manner to render them dormant and prevent them from sproutix until the time ehall arrive when they are wished to do so. In this condition they are imported, and the seedsmen who deal in them on this side of the water keep them with great care in an even temperature, packing some of the smaller kinds, like anemoues, in eawdust to revent them from becoming too dry. A cool joft, cellar or any «pot where they will not be frozen is a good piace for keeping bulbs. The crocuses are particularly energetic and dis- posed to sprout on slight revocation prema- turely. A good many bulbs are now brought from Japan. The white and sweet-scented Japan lilies are becoming very familiar bere, and there are other beautiful varieties, such as the golden lily, from the mikado’s empire. ‘The most curious thing about bulbs is the manner of their reproduction, which varies to an extraordinary extent. Many of them are multiplied in the soil, 60 that by separating the roots of one plant a dozen or more are ob- tained. Others, like the hyacinth, are sown as potatoes are, with pieces of the bulbs cut Others again germinate from peelings of bulb, while the tuberose, brought from Italy inally, sends out little shoots from the which, when cut off and put in the earth, form bulbs themselv thea provesda ts anotier epot, where, hides s DOGS TRAINED TO HUNT THEM. Recently it has been found thet dogs could be trained to perform the duties that are in- stinetive to the pig and so great is the demand in France for the truffle that many of the canine species are now, in certain districts, possessed of this estimable talent. To bogin with, finely cut or sliced truffles are mixed daily with their food, until at length they develop a liking for the flavor. Afterward their owners conceal, in some portion of a field where truffles are sup- posed to exist, alittle tin dish of filet aux truffes, covering the same With a few handfuls of earth. ‘The dog is then brought out and urged to hunt for the dish, goaded by mpty stomach. When he at length finds it caressed by hie master and thus in the space of a few weeks he will readily to hunt for the vegetable itself. Trufites are seldom found twice in the same place. A field that may yield a great quantity this year will be quite fruitless the next. Though Alexander Bornholz, a German scientist, claims to have transplanted and Taised the article in question, repeated experi- ments to that end have proved but failures. The very fact that the truffle isa rarity and that it grows only in certain districts has been enough to make it an object sought after clan- Gestinely by peasants or those who carry them to market. There afe poachers for as well as for game, who hunt by night with their dog or porker,a plague tolandowners. Scarcely is there a canning establishment at this moment in France that does not, among other alimen- tary products, preserve this dainty. It has be- come as indispensable tothe dinner table of the nobiesse as the aromatic sprig of garlic to the frugal repast of the peasant. THE ANNUAL PRODUCTION. The annual production is valued at sbout £3,000,000. The article is sold in the depart- ments where found at @1 per pound and at almost double that price at the principal markets: ofthe larger cities. Not alone do trufiies thrive in France, they are found in Italy, Spain and Holland, but are of different ality compared with the French, lacking the licate and incomparable flavor. In the United States, especially in California, some attention has been given within the past few to the gathering and preserving of truffies, and a number of western packers have gone to Bordeaux in order to inform them- selves regarding the canning process. It isa very simple one, the trufties being partially boiled, as tomatoes, asparagus and other vege- tables, and then jarred and sealed in their own diluted juice. All softs. of meat and game products are also “trufiled,” the vegetable ing cut into small squares and inserted into the substance of the article preserved. ae. His Means of Support From tb Atlanta Constitution. “This makes the third time that you have appeared before me charged with begging on the streets of Atlanta,” said the judge, “and although you ate a women I will have to send you up for thirty days.” 3 tion what bad up to that time been deemed unobtainable—namely, a black tulip. He got only a single bulb, but ib was worth thousands of doliars. Leaving it on his table he left the room for a few mo- ments and coming back he found a friend wait- ing for him. ‘The tulip bulb was gone. “Where is my black tulip bulb/” be inquired anxiously. “Do you mean that thing I found on your table a moment ago’” replied his friend. “I thought itwas some sort of an apple, andI ate it.” There has never been « black tulip since, It Was » Woman. From the Detroit Free Press. A man was standing on the curbstone looking at a strect vender's sale yesterday afternoon, when a horee’s bead appeared over his shoulder. “shoo, there,” he said, catching the animal by the neck rein. “I'l bet a jewsharp that a “Please don't do it, judge,” sobbed the | woman is driving you.” a woman. “Ihave a large family to supportand| | “Getup! Let go my horse! I'll eall the scream excited woman's voice. ice what would my husband and my children do | Pl s if you were to send me up?” T don't want man, Yo 7 “"n’ Ldon't want to be driv over, eyetber. “Your husband? Have you, indeed, = bus-| wey don't you take to the sidewalk’ and give 4 folks in the street a chance for their lives?” “Yes, your honor,” said a man stepping for- |’ ‘Then he jumped back asa whip struck the ward from the crowd. “I am her husbam ache tie ting End want to ack you to be lenient with her, nee Se 2S apineades She makes out like ‘she's too sick to work, but | Yebicle he Hoch tent Den Yeh Goenst if you let her off this time I'll see to it that she works in the fature and supports her family.” “I don't think you will,” said the judge. “In fact, Iam going to let the woman go and send you up for six months asa vagrant. You have no visible means of support. bt! Drive over ! There ought to be a law to compel folks to stay in the house when go out driving. It'd save lots of lives.” poe entered ‘A Painter's Secret. Paris Letter +’ Thicago Herald. The ban / death has been busy again thie week. ‘The last victim in the artistic world te visible means of support? Lord! Ain't my wife in court?” ———+e-—___ ‘Their Quarrel Made Up at Last. Since life is still in ioving, I, From the St. Louis Glove-Democrat. this city a few ago. Few painters have Pheri ghiy love Frowns, Wilt whtette though I) yar Josephine Lashier, accompanied by her | ever here in the masterly style —. a and execution of his works. The warmth of daughter, left Atchison, Kan.,on the 8th instant | S24 exeen toads hmguston Go bis Mijn han tenes see: for Spokane Falls, Wash., to join her busband, | Pictures stamp him as one of the most "Tis all in say-so. ad after a separation of nineteen years. They | famous artiste of the century. His subjects Murmur good-bye to life, as thy best friend, were married in Atchison twenty-one yeats ago. | all seem to be walking out of their canvas Best te, 47 mie ee They had some little jars incident to married |@nd the longer they are regarded the it sped ‘more animate they seem to become. Strange Wit speak thee fuir and whistle though I die. | lite, and one day, Ghild was six | to aay, ho never imparted the secret of his ast. —The Century. —Jaugs Huser Monsz. monthe old, the bisband left without warning, | Wee Rho Reiehing touche, to 8 SS ence ing ifornia. In ashort wrote The Old Fight On Again, ing his wife to join him, but she disliked to | f0re,be invariably ehut hineelf in, hie atelier, From the Philace:phia Press. ve her aged parents and Later | door which he locked on the inside. ‘Taking “Been traveling far?” asked one passenger of she was willing to go to him, but then be was in food and drink with him sufficient to last twe snother ontan east-bound Ghesapeake and Ohio | Mid! and she did not go. "Meanwhile or three days, he disappeared from the world, train the other day. ant cai. nee a les yond cr as it were, and never re-entered tt until ae “From the west.” to samirs light and “The far west?” were “Mississippi river region.” “St. “Sir! do I look like a St. Louis man?” aye “How ive in chi eee “But I was not always of. that way of think- 't know just how » St. 20?” - “Well, I'm in favor of ell, ae women taking an act-| home. i i; Fi jorshiper in Persia, the to the men of the dominant are, end tray sen getes Ee eet ens talk of s “Turkish poversment fe y