Evening Star Newspaper, March 5, 1892, Page 7

j THE CARE OF YOUNG. How Animals Protect Their Offspring Until They Are Strong. SHELTERED BY THE MOTHER. ‘The Kangaroo and Its Pocket for Preserva- tion of the Little Jumpers—How Fish Are Spawned—The Shark’s Egg—The Mother ‘Toad and Her Family ~a Her Back. ‘Written for The Evening Star. T 18S VERY INTER- esting to note how mals grow from the time they come into the (world to the time they are able to take care of themselves. ‘The kangaroo's care of its young is particu- larly interesting. Na- ture has endowed this animal with s pouch i MS and shelter its young from enemies and from the weather. This pouch is formed by «fold of the skin of the abdomen, and the fur of the old mother, while | warm, also forms a soft nest for the young | @mes. The offspring are placed in this pouch &s soon as they are born, and grow and de- velop there, being fed by the mother, until able to ran and hop about the ground and eat the herbage which forms the nourshment of the parent. Afterward they resort to the shel- tering pocket only temporarily for conceal- ment or security. ‘THE SHARK's Ea. ‘The egg of the skate and shark is familiar to all observant visitors to the seashore, where they go by the popular name of “barrows.” The color is black, of leathery texture, thin, tough and iu form similar to «common hand barrow, the body of the barrow being repre- sented by the middle of the ezg and the handi dy the four projections at the angles. Ther projections. which are called tendrils, are of use to enable the egg to cling to the growing seaweed at the bottom of the ocean, thus pre- Venting it from being washed away by the cur- rents. For the escape of the young, when strong enough to make its own way in the wider world of waters, an outlet is provided on | one edge, as the end of an envelope which bas been cut open, which opens when pushed from within and permits the little creature to make its war out, though it effectually keeps out all unwelcome vistors. When the young first leave their horny home they bear with them a small capsule containing » portion of the nutriment of the egg, as is seen in the gbicken of the common fowl, and is enabled to ¢xist upon this supply until it bas reached that age wi it can forage for itself, when the emall remains of the capsule absorbed int the abdomen. The empty cas continually ay on the shore by the motion of the Waves, but the young are seldom found inclosed xcept after & storm, when they are forced away from their position by the violence of the waves, or when they are obtained by means of the dredge. YRESH-WATER Fis Trout, perch and other fresh-water fish which are scattered over our country in lakes, rivers and brooks always approach the head of a body Of water to deposit spawn. where the water has considerable motion and where a pebbly bottom €an be found. The spawn of fish has been found adhering to rocks on the bottom, and all fish are supposed to have the same habits in this respect. The motion of the water is thought to assist in batching the egg. In process of ‘th the egg is hatched and the small creature ffiuds itself supplied with food for a certain length of time by a sack which is appended to it “The currents carry them down to deever end larger bodies of water, but by the time the: b them they Lave increased in @ze and are better able to look out for themselves. Bat in the case of shad and many other valuabie fish the fry are devoured by larger fish, so that few live to become full- grown fish. Recently the fish commission has taken this matter into their hands and today millions of eggeare transported to the fisheries, —— they are Loney and when or reach oper age and are large enough to escaj S Gs Koger tk they are aqnin conigned to the faters to Sight their own battles and become e m the same manner oysters are gathered when not larger than a silver dollar, when they are called seed. These seed are ‘planted in heaps on the mud and grow to be large oysters im course of time. The greatest enemy of the oyster besides man is the star fish, which de- soy whole beds of oysters in a season. TOADS AND THEIR Torso. ‘The celebrated Surinam toad, wi tracted much attention for along time, bas « mode of developing the young which is very earious and interesting. The toad itself bears | some resemblance to our toad, which is seen daring the summer months hopping about the lawns and grassy plats, but of a brownish color above and whitish below. When the eggs are the male piaces them on the back of bis , where they adhere by means of a certain tutinous secretion and by degress become im- in a series of curious cells formed for reminds one of a piece of dark hon Paab with the cells filled and closed. In th manner the eggs are hatched and in these Feceptacles the young pass through the fat stage of life, not quitting’ thems unt th y beea provided with limbs and are able to sbout on the ground. jous aspect as they to free themselves from the skin. their and paws extending in ail directions. the brood have left the mother cells gradually close again. wherewith to protect | ito | upon FIREFLIES FROM CUBA. Experimenting With the Light That They Give, the Cheapest in the World. Groretary LANGLEY OF THE SMITH- sonian Institution has been experimenting for some time past with fireflies from Cubs. He says that the light they give is the “cheap- est” in the world produced, that is to say, with the least heat and the smallest expenditure of energy; and he believes that a successful imi- tation of it would prove s most profitable sub- stitute for gas and electricity. The insects are beetles two inches long and belong to the family of “snapping bugs,” so called because when ono of them is laid on its back it snaps itself into the air with a clicking sound. The secret of the light this firefly gives is as yet undiscovered. Apparently it is connected in some way with the mysterious phenomena of life and chem: nd physicists huve sought in vain to explain itsorigm. On each side of the animal's thorax is aluminous membranous spot and these fiash at intervals, so that the Cubans put a dozen of the insects in a cage to- | gether and so obtain a continuous illumination bright enough to read by. This |light is accompanied by no perceptible t and is seemingly produced with almost noexpenditure of energy. How great an improvement it represents upon all known ‘ficial lights can be imagined when it is ated that in cand'elight, lamplight of gas- in light the waste is more than 9¥ per cent. | other words, if they could be so obtained not to throw anything away, they would gi’ nearly 100 times the illumination which they doafford. Even the electric light is mostly waste. ‘ A specimen of the “Hercules beetle”is ex- Posed as a curiosity in a shop window on 15th street. It comes from Africa and is exactly six inches in length. ‘Ihe head and horns alone e four inches and resembles huge black law. ‘Though seemingly a pair of very formidable nippers, with sharp teeth for biting, these horns are in reality merley for ornament They are made of chitine, one of the most en- during substances in the world, which in many fossilized insects 1s found to have outlasted the ages. A smaller cousin of this cr ture, known as the “Ithinoceros beetl is about two inches long and is plentifuliy found in many parts of the south. It is chiefly celebrated for its offensive smell, which has at times rendered Raleigh, N. C., and other towns almost uninhabitable, necessitating action by the health authorities. The animal lives in decaying logs and stumps, feeding upon rot- ting wood. ‘There are many kinds of beetles in the United States which are as good for the pur- pose of blistering as the Spanish fly, belonging to the same family with it. One species in and petals of cbrysanthemame and asters, but the redeeming habit of devouring grass- hoppers’ eggs. In southern Europe the can- tharides insects are gathered by shaking them at night upon sheets from trees on which they had gone to roost iu flocks. Then they are exposed in sieves to the vapor of boiling Vinegar, after which they are dried in the sun and are ready for sale in the drug shopa The flesh of all “blister beetles” contains a peculiar chemical compound called “cantharidin,” which burns the skin. “There are many mysterious things about beetles,” said Prof. Howard of the Department of Agriculture to a Stan writer. “Ihose of Brazil are famed for their brilliant metallic hues, yet no one has been able to find out what makes these colors. Some are of gold, others of silver, yet othersof blue enamel seemingly, and soon through an endless variety of tints. One variety is called the “diamond beetle” because it is covered with minute points which reflect the light. Their use for jewelry is familiar. ‘they are employed for trimming dresses and sometimi particularly fine one is kept alive aud allowed to wander over the corsage tached by a slender chain. rab or beetle of Egypt was the ‘tumbie bug,’ which forms bits of manureinto a ball for laying its eggs in. Two individuals, male and female, always roll the ball together, and they do this merely for the purpose of con- Yeying it to a age place and biding st. ‘This in- sect was regard as a symbol of the Creator among the Hindoos, from whom the idea passed into Egypt. ‘The ball was imagiued to Tepresent the world, because it was round, and was supposed to be rolled from sunrise to sun- about Washington preys destructively upon the | *8° THE EVENING STAR: vil WASHINGTON. D.C. SATURDAY, MARCH 5, 1892-SIXTEEN PAGES. THE SADDEST MOMENT OF WY LR WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR BY RODNEY CLARKE. AM A PHYSICIAN LIVING IN THAT ‘The Back Bay"— part of the city, built by the banks of the Charles river, nay, built even out of the stream itself, for the land wi filling it in. About ten years ago I had just begun to practice, and by constant and earnest Iabor day and night bad succeeded in estab- lishing what is familiarly known as‘‘a good start.” My parents were dead, and as I was an only child I was practically alone in the world—an aunt who had married and gone out west being the only relative whom I had eyer known. I lived cheaply, but comfortably, and was laying by a little something, which, when ithad considerably increased, Iwas going to use to defray the expenses of a tripto Europe— @ journey that I had always longed to make from the time of my boyhood. Little by little the amount grew, until I hoped that ina year or two my ambition would be gratified and my hopes fulfilled. One day, while upon one of my professional rounds. I called ata fashionable house on Beacon street to attend a lady who bad beer very sick indeed, but was slowly re- covering. As I was leaving the house after my visit her daughter, a very beautiful girl of nineteen, stopped’ me and anxiously inquired for her mother’s state of health. She scemed very much concerned and her lovely face wore avery troubled expression as she questioned me. “Poor girl,” thought I, ‘takes her mother’s illness very much ‘to heart,” and I assured her that Mrs. Van Brunt was entirely out of danger and that now all that was re- quired was the utmost care in order to prevent any tendency to a relapse. Her face brightened and { left her mach more ct ease in regard to her mother. I had hardly got down the steps when I noticed a young man mount them and ring the door bell. Not that this was any unusual occurrence, for Al thia Van Brunt was opular, and to see young man enter ‘an Brunt mansion was a rather frequent event than otherwise; but it was the young man himself that attracted my attention—and held it. Never before had I been so affected. I could not tell what that moved me. He was a trifle above th height, of shapely figure and graceful cai Tiage; but his face! “Such pathos, earnestness and beauty I had never beheld combined in any one countenance. His eyes seemed to speak his very soul. He looked at me once before the door dad been opened for his admittance and I felt as if I could have @one his bidding in anything at that moment. Hismouth was won- eerful. “As he stood there, now and then a smile would come and go, andas bis expression changed accordingly I felt my emotions keep pace with bis. In ioment he had entered the house and I dri ay, inwardly resolving to discover who he was, and if possible to be- come acquainted with him and study what subtle influence he pousessed that had so stunned me. My efforts, however. were not to any extent rewarded for some time. Once in a while I saw himon Beacon street, and each time he was walking rapidly, absorbed with his re- flection fore I seemed to caten them as they were p@ttrayed by his features and echo them in my own breast. Finaily an opportu- nity presented itself which gave me not only pleasure of his acquaintance, but also the history of his life. and which ultimately led to the witnessing of the scene that gives the title to this story. Ayear had passed since my first encounter with the oung man and my practice had so in- creased that I was enabled to take a vacation of a few months and indulge in the longed-for trip to Europe. Accordingly I went over to New York one balmy day in May and the next afternoon found me embarked upon one of the North German Lloyd steamers bound for the continent. To my delight and surprise I dis- covered, sitting upou a steamer chair just aft of the mizzenmast and gazing upon the last fading outline of the great metropolis of the new set. Even at this day Egyptian women whode- sire children eat the beeties for that end. “There many gigantic insects of which no specimens are seen in this latitude. In the tropics such creatures grow much bigger, and there is hardly a group of them known to the naturalist which does not have giant representa- tives in the torridzone. Doubtless the warmth of those regious, which produces luxuriance in vegetable life, has similarly favorable effects certain branches of the animal kingdom. At all events, snakes in” general S&d various species of bugs in partieutar seem to profit by it. “In the tropics are found many kinds of great hairy spiders, some of which have a spread of legs that will cover a tea plate. One of these unpleasant creatures will sometimes weigh as much as half a pound. Thoy are all called *‘tarantulas,” although the real taran- tula is an insect only found in southern Europe, where so many superstitions respecting it pre- vail. Most of the big spiders of the new world are of the sort which build neste with trap doors, lining a hole dug in the ground with silk, fitting it with a door so artfully made, as to hinge, beveled edge and spring, that it is almost impossible to detect e fact that there is an opening, and in some cases actually planting seeds on this dainty portal apparently for the purpose of conceal- jug it with growing plants. | Some of the largest spiders catch birds, and individuals have been known to capture good-sized fishes, lying in wait for them at the border of a stream. “In South America there are giant grasshop- pers with bodies five inches long and a wing spread of ten inches. Owing to the fact that they are not very numerous these. formida insects do not do much damage. Nearly every one bas seen the curious ‘walking sticks,’ so called, which resemble twigs so closely that it is difficult to realize that they are living mals. Members of this family in the tropics grow toa length of eleven inches. There are tropical cockroaches four inches long, with antenn@ to correspond, which readily become domesticated in houses. A tropical moth calied the ‘atlas’ moth has a wing-spread of one foot. It is gray in color and flies by night. There are most beautiful butterflies in the Malay Archipelago of an exquisite blue and other irridescent hues, which measure nine inches from wing tip to wing tip. In South America there is a beetle even bigger than the Hercules beetle. {t is over a foot long, legs and all, though its body is not so heavy.” From Washington south the -‘doodlebug” is notorious. It is the larva of a beetle—a grub with long jaws, which makes its home ina little hole, fastening itself at the mouth with two spines on its back. There it lies in wait for ants and other small insects to tumblein, when it gobbles them up. Boys when they find one of these burrows poke a straw in, singing a ryhme that begins “doodlebug, doodlebug,” upon which the doodiebug grabs the straw and is pulled out. There is another curious kind of beetle known as the “grave digger." A number of individuals will gather about a dead mouse on the ground and dig the earth from beneath it until the cavity is big enough to conceal it, after which they cover the unimal carefully over and use the decaying body to lay their eggs in. tere A Lady's Visit to the Italian Queen. From Modern Society. z ‘As usual, I paid my obligatory yearly visit to Queen Margherita, pour lui offrir mes bom- mages pour le nouvel an. Lady readers must not fancy that this visit is surrounded with all the troubles and bother which are usual fora prosentation to Queen Victoria. In the first lace I had to write and request an audience From the Marcheso di Villamarine, who’ ues been the queen's chief lady. friend during the last twenty years. After a few days I received « reply stating that her majesty would be pleased to receive me the following ‘Tuesday at 1:30 p.m.; #0 accord- ingly on the appointed day and hour I was ready, dressed im my best bib and tucker (lake ing advantage of court mourning to wear a retty black wilk dress trimmed with jet em- roidery, and bonnet to match), and arrived at the Quirinal about 1:30 p.m. master of tue ceremonies announced my name, when I made a profound reverence at the open door, another in the middle of the room another when I kissed he band. Tome she sai you have put on tacles.” am so short. world, the young man whom I had sought for so long to meet. Again he was ubsorbed in deepest thought—again did his his changing moods, and agi feelings respond irresistibly to bis If he smiled, so did I—I could not help it. Perhaps his face would sadden—then would I feel rowful—without any cause except that I deeply for him. So watched bim until the twilight deepened into night and his outline only was visible in the gloom, not daring to in- thischainof meditation. But I resolve next day to approach him and to make myself acquainted with this mysterious being. ‘Accordingly the. following afternoon, as h was walking upand down the deck seemingly I occupied with his thoughts than usual and more interested in the objects and events around him, I drew near him and touched him lightly on the shoulder. Ho started almost imper ceptiblyand looked me full in the face. I was his atonce. I could have follo place he might have wished to lead me; tivated me. “How beautiful the sea looks to- day,” I ventured. “It isso calm. One would hardly imagine that so much danger lies latent, waiting only for inds to develop it.”” “Yes,” he replied—and his voice was ver; rich and gentle—“it is very, very beautiful.” He paused as though he would continue, but after waiting a moment for him to proceed, see- ing that he still remained silent, I ventured to speak again. “I have often wondered at the great changes produced in the ocean within such a short pe- ried of time. It is like human nature in many points—a little stormy scene and one’s whole State of mind is rufiled and agitated to « mar- velous extent sometimes. ' “Ab, you are right, and sometimes the agita- tion of the mind ‘does not become calm as quickly as the ocean yonder,” he re- turned, and his face was sad in its expression. “Lam afraid,” said I, “that you are a little pt to take an unpleamnt view of mental storms. I hope you have not suffered by any of them?” I spoke very quietly and as nearly aa I could in a way to invite confidence. Again he looked me full in the facc—again I folt his strange influence—and he replied very faintly, so that I could hear him only by listen- ing very acutely. “Yes, in Boston.” c mn?” I echoed, “that is my home. I have seen you there quite frequently. I re- member that one day as I was coming from the Van Brunt mansion”—he started—“where I had been attending Mrs. Van Brunt—for Iam a Physician—I saw you going in. Do you know my “Yes,” he replied almost inaudibly. “Intimately?” I inquired. “Pardon my in- juisitiveness, but I am well acquainted with dem myself, and am glad to have found an- other of their friends.” He turned toward me and for a few moments he was silent. Then he said: “You have at- tracted me. Ifyou will listen,and will keep what Tam going to say locked within your breast, I will tell yon all”--‘tall” he repeated to himself as though it were a relief to him to say it. This was what I wanted—to know about him—so promising to be worthy of his confidence and arranging two steamer chairs in a quiet corner of the deck I sat down with him and he began his story. “T did not expect to talk with any one while on this voyage, much less to relate what I am about to tell to you,” he said. “But I cannot keep it to myseif—it is not my nature—and I beliove you will be true to my trust in you. In order that you may understund my trouble it will be necessary for me to tell you something of my early life. I was born in a little town in Massachusetts among the Berkshire hills. My parents are German, of noble blood—why they came to this country lam not at liberty to mention—and they reared me with all the re- finement and polish that is inherent to nobility, though we lived in the hamblest circumstances. As I grew into Lox See I developed a talent for art, with which my father was more than delighted; and he seconded in every way possible my feeble efforts at drawing and paint- ing. When I became a youth I was abl paint very well i d my father was so pleased at my progress that he took what little savings he bad in the bank and sont me to Boston to study art. He has a very old friend there, a man of means and of position, and to him he gave mea letter of introduction. This friend of my father’s was very kind to me— taking me with him to many entertainments and levees—while he did everything he for me in the way of assisting my wt and promoting my success. One evening we were at s large reception. I was intro- duced tomany braces, omg among them ‘unt. Iwas fascinated in did my own could studies apes thted that Ihave been obliged to do so.” "And, also,” repliod tho queen, “to the die. ure of my husband, who has’ s great dis- ‘to spectacles, so I eanuot wear them when he is present; and I used to be extremely 4 sighted, like my vs t 7 of all is my son, who on joenee Gikanss oe © tng wl very aneasy, thinking, perlaps, bis fail bim as taine basdone."" And timg on. one subject or another my visit off, lasting about half an hour, the ing volubly foe _ Wi enough of you ‘gives you Kise, nd you retire in the same order you entered her presence. ssiaach ates ota When you need a frond don't wants to i Sometimes of ® morning we would d much time at the rooms of the art ec! and would admire the made by |»! | Joy We had long talk—the substance of which was that Lcould never hope to marry Alethia until I had become rich and famous, and short, his requirements were many and al- together out of reach. I was forbidden to enter the house again, and Alethia was not to see me any more. The next day the old friend of my father’s died, and practically I was left alone in the world, without any means what- ever except a little legacy left me by the friend just mentioned. It was enough, however, to give me a much-longed-for trip to Europe; and #0 one morning, at the art school, aboat a week after my talk with Mr. Van Brunt, I bade Ale- thia farewell, and yesterday embarked upon this steamer. I have no hope of ever Pring her again,” he murmured, “for success is har to find in'this age: but I'shall work to my ut- ability, and try to win her—try to win z ‘And may you succeed! I wish it with all my heart,” I said earncstly; and as he rir my bi inreturn for my sympathy, f felt it tremble with emotion.” ‘The remainder of the voyage ed without anything unusual happening. [ saw much of my new acquaintance, and the more I was with him the better I liked him. When the steamer arrived at her destination and it came time for us to separate, each going his different way, I left him with earnest regret at the part- ing'and bade him God-kpeed, wishing him every chance of success. He seemed grateful for my interest in his welfare, and set off upon his journey to Paris somewhat cheered, I thought, by my good wishes. My path of travel led me to many places of interest whither so many Americans tourists annually wend their way. Vienna, Berlin, Moscow and even St. Petersburg were visited by me in turn, and finally [arrived in London, having but one more a in which to spend my time and money—Paris. I am an ardent admirer of Dickens, and my stay in London was extremely interesting to me. The scenes which I had so often represented in my imag- ination were now present in reality, I could almoet see the characters themselves walking about and doing what the charming novelist had made them do. Many of the historical points of interest visited, and only too soon did I find that it was high time to be off to Paris if Iwanted to see that beautiful city before my vacation came to an end. Accordingly I soon found myself across the channel and in the Parisian capital. It would be needless to re- count the many sources of delight which I found there. One event only have I time to narrate. It was this. One evening I entered one of those beautiful cafes which are to be found in such abundance on the boulevards. T founda seat near the entrance and was sip- ping my bordeaux quietly, when the sound of excited voices attracted my attention, In a moment I recognized among them that of my artist friend. Ilooked in the direction from they emanated and beheld him engaged m angry discussion with a Frenchman. I saw hum raise his hand as though to strike a blow— I saw the Frenchman put his hand to his pocket, as though to draw a weapon. Isprang up and rushed between them in time to roid what might have been a fatal quarrel for one or both. Apologizing for my friend in very poor French, ‘and saying that he was crazy, | burried bint quickly out of the cafe, leaving the French- man #0 astonished that he did not have time to decline the apology and demand satistaction. Lhailed acab and we drove to the Clamps Elysees. He told me he had won great fame by a picture he had sent to the art exhibition. He had teken the medal,and his name would now be known as that of agreatartist. The painting was the head of his beloved which he had painted froma photograph. He was growing rich, be said, as his prize picture had brought a large price, and be had sold many others be- sides. “That hot-headed Parisian from whom you, dear friend, have just now saved me was the ’rival in art'with whose work my picture was compared, and mine being successful he has been most ungentlemanly to me ever since. ina short time Iam goimg back to Boston,” he said, Iam wortby of Alethia.” his good fortune ane. congratulated him. He spent that night with me and on the following day I left for Liverpool, where I was to take a ni er bound tor New York. ‘The voyuge made without any especial adven- tures, except once there was some excitement light defect in the machinery of the steamer, which threatened at one moment to render her engines helpless, but the defect was remedied in time and the remainder of the journey passed in safety. Upon my ar- rival in New York I went to see a coilege chum of mine, who was studying at the General Theo- logical ‘Seminary, and recounted to him the incidents of my trip, telling him much about tay new acquaintance and what a strango fasci- nation he had forme. My chum was exceed- ingly interested and when I mentioned the young man’s name he told me that he belonged to one of the first families in Germany; that they were all talented, some musicians, others artists. After chatting for-eome time I took the night express £6r Boston and once more engaged in my professional duties. had gotten well started again, for I had been home about a month, when { was called one rainy afternoon to the Van Brunt mansion. Fearing that Mrs. Van Brunt might have a re- turn of the illners which I thought I had cured sometime before, I hastened to respond to the call, which was summary one, and soon ar- rived at her residence. The e I witnessed before I left there will forever be graven upon my memory. Mrs. Van Brunt herself met me at the door so overcome with emotion that at | first she was unable to state the reason for my summons. Mastering her feelings at last, how- ever, she said brokenly, “Alethia—come with me. ' O, save her, doctor, save her,” and the poor woman broke down again. I followed her up the broad staircase into the chamber of the dying girl—for was dying, and her re- maining moments here upon earth were few but started as I drew near a figure which knelt beside the fair sufferer. With a look of the most unntterable woe the young artist and lover appealed to me with hit wonderful eyes to save his betrothed; but he said nota word. I felt that if anything could be done I would do it if I died as a result. For an hourl worked over the dying gitl, and at indeed. 1 approached the bed a Brunt aside and told her that everything was useless; that she had been taken very sud- denly—the trouble being with her heart. The ood woman was overwhelmed with grief, and Fadvised her to leave the room for awbile aud I would summon her in case anything for the worse happened—but she would not go; and at the foot of the bed sat silently weeping. I touched my young friend upon the shoul —he started slightly, but kept his eyes riveted on the face of his ‘beloved, his whole frame trembling with suppressed grief. I presently learned from Mra. Van Brunt that he had but Just arrived a few hours before, bringing e and fortune with him, to claim Alethia jis bride, and had found her st to him; that shortly after his coming she bad been seized with this attack. Iwatched him as he sat there, and pitied ures were the mirror of his emotions, and again I felt that strange sympathy with him. Seeing the lips of the dying girl move I motioned her mother to draw near and with- drew while in a few feeble sentences she bade farewell to those most dear to her on earth. In & moment the soul of one of the nobiest and truest of her sex had d into a realm bet- ter fitted to receive purity and loveliness of character and the idol of the mother’s heart was dead. I gently led Mrs. Van Brunt to a chair and told her that her daughter was be- yond the trials of this world. The peor lady broke down utterly and I insisted on her leav- ing the room and seeking her own boudoir. Mr. Van Brunt was away on business, had been telegraphed for and would, | informed her, soon be with her to comfort her. Leaving ber ‘thus trying to obtain some relief I returned to the chamber of the dead. The young artist was still as 1 had left him. Itouched him gently and whispered, “She isdead.” He spoke not nor did he move. I shook him and he fell prostrate. I looked at him—at his face—and started. The lamp of light had me out and ierced death with a poignard of grief had p' heart. He had fought long and earnestly in Europe with the intense zeal inherent in his eae to gan the only means by which Alethia his wife. to make ‘and Lean then show Mr. Van Brunt that | { Twas delighted at | & the expiration of that time I took Mrs. Van |‘ him from the bottom of my heart. His feat-| she TOM MOORES LOVE. The Actress to Whom the Irish Poet Wrote “Now I Mourn.” HER GRAVE IN GREENWOOD. A Woman Who Held Sway on Two Conti- nente—A Checkered Career—Three Hus- bands, but One Love—The Opera Then and Now. Special Correspondence of The Evening Star, New Yorx, March 5, 1892. « .E WHO WANDERS ‘among the nameless graves in lovely Green- wood cemetery may read many s romance if he willapply the calm test of investigation to the history of these dis guised dead. Not many days ago a famousactor strolled through th ES" quiet paths and byways of the sleeping city. x He was not bent upon ‘an aimless mission; his curiosity, exhibited in minute and prolonged inspection of tomb- stones and iron slabs, was not the idle curiosity of the loiterer or the sight-seeing rustic. He was engaged in a search of some importance, plainly enough, and as the hours rolled on and found himetill peering at faintly intelligible in- scriptions they also found him at last arrived at the object of his pilgrimage. For this actor had traveled from England to seek for history in an American cemetery, and he had gathered up the threads of most romantic and remarkable life. When he quitted Greenwood he carried with him the knowledge, the first accurate knowledge, too, of the death and burial of an actress who once sway on two continents—who was the first in all the long line of great American actresses; who was once beloved by that sweet singer and gentle t, Tom Moore, and who, marrying thrice, loved but once, and then steadfastly, even unto death. 4 GREAT ACTRESS IN HER TIME. This woman, as we read in the chronicles of her time, was the greatest and grandest actress of her day. The most graceful pens constantly sounded her praises. The most distinguished auditors for years clapped their hands in de- light when she trod the rds. If she had so rmitted, her funeral cortege would have en long and imposing. Yet she died without a.sign that she wished for eulogy, and, indeed, she went out of life under an intentional and methodical anonymity. Under the lowly stone in Greenwood, whose only words are “Mother and acta rest forever the remains of that beautiful woman and remarkable genius, Mrs. Duff. The name may awaken 10 memories in the present generation of Playgoers, but it is, nevertheless, a name which is indelibly inscribed upon the annals of this country’s stage. This woman was once openly pronounced by the elder Booth—that gloomy egotist who gave faint Praive in all other instances—to be best actress in the world.” der Kean grew ‘ole the laurels stage. Horace ley, who could write dramatic criticism nitly as political wisdom, declared that her Lady Macteth was never equaled in his time. And these were but three in hun- dreds of glorifications from equally dis- tinguished personages. Hers was no false or flowery nom du_ theater. Mary Ann Duff was an ugly name, but it was rightly hers, at least, as she bore it so long as the stage knew her, which was during a period of thirty years—a’ period which covered the earliest years of the American theater, which saw for the first tim romise of native achievement, and was the very cradle of native promise. Up by TOM MOORE'S LOVE. Before Mary Ann Duff became wife for the first time she was a dancer in the Dublin ‘Theater—s lovely English girl, Dyke by birth- right, the daughter of an Englishman who had died when his three girls were very young. At »Kilkenny benefit in 1909 Tom Moore, the Irish poet, was introduced to Mary Dyke, and he straightway fell in love with her and wrote 8 to her, and finally offered to marry ut ahe rejecting him, he transferred his sion to her second sister, Elizabeth, who fu- vored his suit and gave him her hand, though he was twice her age. There is a song of Moore's to Mary Dyke: Mad f gas beset iota bal *E oot eels Farethee well! And that is proof enough that Moore consid- ered himself unfairly treated, but the truth is that Mary all the time loved another—an actor, of course; young one, athletic in person, rare in accomplishments and eloquentin his wooing. He was John R. Duff. ‘They were wed andthey sailed for America, making their first appear- ance in Boston in 1810. Mra. Duff then came forward as Juliet, and from that night her fame was secure and her position on the American stage was most important. She wasahard worker. In Boston, Providence, Philadelphia, in the fsouth, in the west and finally (1823) in New York she won triumph after triumph in nearly every role known to the drama of that day. Night after night she acted a new character, and from Calanthe to Juliana there was no in her success. A WIDOW AND AN OPIUM EATER. In 1831 she became a widow through the death, in London, of her husband, whose life had been a fine example of professional dignity and conjugal purity. During the following two years Mary Duff encountered the first real sorrows of her career. Unfortunate contracts disturbed her, and in 1833 she had fallen into a state of despondency verging on insanity. There is no reason to doubt that in her woes she had recourse to opium. She did not deny the weakness later, though she used it in ex- tenuation of an action which amazed all who knew her. That was her second marriage—a sudden and strange ceremony, performed ac- cording to both the Catholic and the Episcopal rituale—by which she became the wife of Charles Young, an actor, then in a New York theater. The story goes that was in debt, owing to the extrava- gance of her family, that Young rep- resented — = are george f come into possession of « large legacy; that she made proviso that they should not live together until three years following the ceremony, and that within an hour after their union he con- fessed to her his deception. It was asad story in any light. Mrs. Duff gave way to her in- creased sorrow, and for a year she was in s pri- vate asylum. AGAIN ON THE STAGE. In 1884 she eeturned to the stage, and, fight- ing bravely against the ignominy of being watched at her re-entree bythehusband who had. 80 treacherously treated her, she gained again oes ore voice, and held it ever after, so long. as continued to act. Her marriage to Young was in due course annulled on her peti- tion Se eae of Ges Hennes te consummation, and thereafter she was enabled to perform without molestation. ‘was even then beautiful, it seems, for other suitors pressed her; and one ot them, Mr. Seaver, wooed her so ardently as to win her. He took her to New Orleans, where he was a practicing lawyer, and where for twenty years they made thelr home, he in time chai it Sevier. witich was after the . fore more suited to the New Orleans atmos- 1399 Mra Duff came before the foo yhts often and his only aim in life when everything which he had lived for, labored for and hoped for and had apparently gained was taken from him. ‘The shock, the strain, the grief had been too had en. at the two young faces which had been so toeach other and realized the bill hich were now forever ended: felt what a great disappointment had been that of the manly being now no more; as the scene in all its sorrowful and fearful much for him, and his As I looked shall forever maintain that that the saddest moment of my life. FB IS dere ‘To Fit the Crime, ‘Mr. Newcome,” inquired. the city 4 “did you write this article in which the ment is made that ‘K. K. Perkinson suicided yesterday afternoon?’ "» “Yes, sir,” answered the new man on the local staff. “H'm!” rejoined the city editor, blandly. Newcome, you will plese consider your- moment was “Mr. you self ‘resignationed.’” ‘overwhelmed my whole soul, Ifelt then and | sc, ‘enough, perhaps, to show that the not yet ortinct and that nits still Se the olden But in 1839 from her—this once great actress, the Rachel of her ‘or Players,’ In 1854 she removed iow to 'Teussand vabsequently che came to tiene? to take up her a quiet little house fo wedi tceotreh ana hae daughter. c LOST T0 THE WORLD, the of 1874— her,, | syers, who were so surprised that they became geben now itis — Mother and ne together that humble grave ‘THE OPERA THEN 4XD NOW. People who have attended the opera at the Metropolitan Opera House this season have been forced to notice what a decided change has come over socioty, as it is represented in the boxes, in regard to the manner in which it Gives its attention toa performance. Whereas & few years ago it was considered decidedly vulgar to be absorbed by what was Progressing on the stage, it is now quite the thing to wat the artists with close attention every moment tho curtain is np and to exhibit enthusiastic Sppreciation after a victorious finale. Oné of the greatest changes in this respect is noted in ‘Mrs. Bradley Martin, who 1s equally famous in America and Engiand for her. enormous din- ners and her chandelier crown of diamonds Mrs. Martin now applauds with great fer- Vor, not in the usual delicate, feminine way, but with an immense flip-flap of hands that quite astonishes the conventional crowd in the stalla ‘The two most vigorous applanders, however, are the Missos Wetmore, girls of fresh and’ honest beauty and ex- quisite taste in dress, whose names are to be found in McAllister's revised list, and who never fail to appear in their father's box on opera night a very few minutes after the cur- tain rises. These are girls who have seen’ and heard most of the brilliancy and melody this world contains, yet they are in no way bitece, but even demonstrative to a far greater degree than are their sisters in a less exalted sphere. The entire opera house was attracted at a recent performance of ‘Faust to these fair girls as they expressed their raptures after the artists finished their best singing. They were not posing and were unconsidus of the attention directed at them. ‘They merely were carried away by the delight of fine music and just “put in” with all the joyous abandon of gallery gods approving the hero of a melo- drama. Two or three years ago such a sight was unknown in the Metropolitan Opera House. Why the new move has been made by the fash- ionables it would be hard to say, but it is at least a healthy change from the heavy indiffer- ence that was hitherto expressed. ——___+e- ——___ ANOTHER HYDE AND JEKYLL, The Double Life Led by = Wealthy Resident of an Ohio Town. Milton, Ohio, is in a terrible state of excite- ment over the fact that a perfect Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde has been discovered among ite residents. For some time past people have been struck down in the street by an unknown Person. Those who have seen him described him asa short, stocky man, with the face of a demon. The first one struck was a fellow named Lynch, one of the hard characters of Milton, Hisstory of having been assaulted by an unknown man was not believed, people saying he was drunk. Others, however, were mysteriously assaulted until the number amounted to five, all having been struck by the same unknown person. The wounds were always on the head and looked as if they had been made with a blunt iron rod. At first robbery was given ax the cause for the assaults, but none of tlrose struck had been robbed of any valuables, and so that theory fell through. A few days’ ago the townspeople determined to find the mysterious assailant, but while they were lying in wait for him one of their number was struck. Other traps were laid, but he seemed to know of them and did not walk into them. One night last week as two little girls were returning to their homes from a party they were assaulted by the terri- bie one and knocked iuto insensibility. THE CITIZENS AROUSED. The citizens then became thoroughly aroused, for it had become unsafe for any one to be on the streets after dark, and all determined to look out for the unknown. About 10:30 o'clock the next night Mr. John Currier was stauding on a street corner, when he saw a crouching figure move rapidly dow: the opposite side of the thoroughfare. He at | once recognized the figure as that of the brute described by the people who had been as- saulted, and, after giving the alarm, ran after him. Mr. Currier had nearly overtaken him when the mysterious one turned. His face was ablaze with passion and his whole body shook asif under a terrible strain. Mr, Currier isa very big and powerful man and at once tried to rab the haif man, half devil, but was knocked own as ifhe had been achild. By this time people arrived on the scene and pursued the rug ti ive. The unknown fiend ran like a deer and the pursuers had a hard time to keep near iim, but it soon became evident tha: the fleeing man was becoming tired. He ied them achase of about a mile outside of the town and the people were about giving up the chase, whgn the man turned suddenly and, raising a t club.hey in his~hand, ran directly toward bis pur- panic-stricken and let “him pase back towasd he town. Only one man attempted to stop him and he was knocked down with the club. TRACKED TO HIS HOME. The fugitive made straight for the handsome residence of Mr. William Bender, one of the wealthiest and also a leading citizen of the town. To the surprise and horror of the crowd he opened the front door and darted in, closing it alter him with a dlam. Several men stepped up and knocked on the door, which was opened by Mrs. Bender. Sho was pale and exceedingly nervous. She requested that. the mayor and several other geutiemen should enter, which they did. She led them to the sitting room, and there on a lounge they saw Mr. Bender lying, his face pale and haggard and his eyes bloodshot. ir. Bender then startled the party by saying: “I am the man who has done all the assauiting. Ican't helj it, Attimesafeeling comes over me whic! causes me to want to strike some”—here his whole face changed and Mr. Currier, who was time to time between 1836 and | alry barracks with the party, exclaimed: “hat is the man who struck me!” ‘Mr. Bender, who was atill lying on the lounge, here sprang up and tried to zet out of the window, but he was held down by the men and it was all they coulddo to manage him, for he fought like a tiger. INSANITY THE EXCUSE. A doctor was sent for and he pronounced the unfortunate man insane. ' The doctor said: “This thing has heen com- ing on him the past month, aud at times he would lose his mind. change his facial expression, and I think it must have him, as he ssid to you gentle- men, want to strike some qne.” Mrs. Bender said she had noticed her hus- band had seemed changed lately, but had only thought it was overwork. She is entirely pros- trated by the awful blow. Mr. Bender will Be taken to a will be done to try and restore his mind.. but Of course, that would | the POPPING THE QUESTION An Event About Which Men Will Never Tell the Truth. ONE MAN'S EXPERIENCE It Was © Cow That Brought Matters to « (Crisis—On the Stage and in Novels the Style 1s Wholly Artifcial—-Much Nonsense Always OW DID YOU GET those excellent men who has a blooming wife, five blooming children and e business that Keeps on blooming more brilliantly year after year. He says he is Poor, and so he is when he is compared with the platocrats of the city, but he is solidly, substantially rich all the same. When he dies, if his wife survives him, she will have an in- come amply sufficient for the proper education of the five blooming children, and when she dies they will all have incomes—not vast es- tates which will make it impossible for them todo anything on eartn but live « life of pleasure. but incomes that will help in estab- lishing them in the useful walke of life. It is the people of this type that make up the body and strength of the community rather than the enormously wealthy class that lives only for pleasure, the drawing room and “style.” But it is not of money that this article would treat, but of the various methods of getting engaged, and so the question was asked of this substantial man of family, “How did you get engaged to your wife a as ‘ oe means of a cow,” he answe: prom} a “What! I must have misunderstood you," said the writer. “I did not ask you bow you got milk for your family, but how you got en- Gaged to the lady who is now your wife. “By means of a cow.” he answered again. He was prevailed upon to explain and told a Very singular, unique and touching story of love, solemn ‘promises, happivess and a cow. Here is the tale reduced to moderate length. The gentleman may, for convenience, be termed Mr. X and the lady’ Miss ¥. TRE STORY OF 4 cow. Mr. X., when be was twenty-four years of ‘age, went to stay with his uncie at bis country place on the eastern shore of Maryland. Hav- ing said that he had relations who lived on the eastern shore, it has been suid that be was of most aristocratic lineage, for everybody knows that the families of that portion of the earth's surface are all of the very best. Virgin! is not more noted for families than eastern shore. In fact, if called upon to truthfully say w cipal product of the eastern shore it would be obliged to say “old families.” Young X. tound at his uncle's house young Virginia girl, Miss Y. X. had nothing in the world to do, nor had Miss ¥., so they killed time by falling in love with one another. It is not a badamuse- ment in the country. You can read poetry together, sit on porches together, take walks in the dusk together. Tbe man is pretty sure of no rivals, the girl is in no danger of having the man ‘enticed away from her. X. nd Miss Y. had a glorious time for Seger graphy were it is the prin- two weeks, and one of their favorite amusements every evening was to stroll down to the pasture and watch the milking of the cows. There was one cow in particular of which the youth and the maid grew very fond. She was « young Jereey—Alderney was the term used then—the color of @ fawn, with a glossy, beautiful coat and eyes as geutie and soft in their expression as Miss ¥.'s own. As she would stand in the cool of the evening lazily whisking the flies with ber tail she would permit the young couple to approach her and stroke her or scratch her forehead. There is nothing particularly romantic in the act of scratching a gentle cow between the horns, but ithappened one day that as X. stretched out his hand to perform this pleasing act of friend- ship to the heifer his hand met Miss ¥.’s, and the cow, moving back as if impressed with the cveviction that she was spoiling fun, left them hand in hand in {he eorner of the pasture. After that they never missed a day in the pas- ture and they always caressed the Jersey cow, until one day X.'s uncle, joining them, said “You young people seem so fond of that cow that I shall have to give her to one of you.” “To which of us?” said X. “Ab!"said the uncle, “you must seftle that between you.” When the old gentleman went off X. looked at Miss Y. and said simply: “Can my uncle give the cow to both of us?” And she quietly answered, “Yes.” And so this substantial citizen became en- gaged, as he truly said, through the agency of acow. ARTIFICIAL STYLES ON THE STAGE. ‘There are s thousand ways of popping the question, and upon careful inquiry it has been ascertained that the method which is usually employed upon the stage and in novels is the most uncommon. Let the reader who is over twenty-one stop and consider amoment bow h the various proposals of his life. Did sink down on one knee, and c girl by the hand frantically ‘Be mine! Be mine?” Did he then start in and tell her of his long years of adoration; how be never could love any one else; how the sun of his being rose and set in her;’ how she was his heaven, and if she said no he must inevitably take an instantaneous flight for the other place? Did he, when she made murmurs of dissent, indignantly cast her hand away from ‘him as though it wasa tennis ball and demand the name of his rival? Did he cover his face seize her around the waist aud pour forth royal octavo volume of im ed rhetoric? ‘This is the way they doin novels and play in real life ferent. It Private hospital, where everything | the the doctors think he is a hopeless case. Owing to the fact that the Benders ate among the best families in the state the matter has been kept | has her PROBABLY FOULLY MURDERED. Mysterious Disappearance of = Beautiful English Girl in St. Petersburg. was some presen: Mossolovsky mansion, cers of the army and other considerable AL Perhaps it is better that the books and plays should be artificial in this matter. There is fff H H Hl if ef ual uf Hi i k i ; rf i 8 & i i HEEL i fi i i FE Fy FH rs ty t 4 4 Hi : I tf A i H il i i | : z FEE i E ! tl i who are chronic old flirts who may be depended upon not only to make love to any woman who will ® ‘@ chance to do #0, but who will be sure to Pose, too. These men mean it, but the ont mean itvery long, and women understand them and will have none of them. It is the fair sex that is the stronger in matters of this kind. The unbappy marriages are numerous enough, but if women were as weak as mem there would bea much larger number of siliy matchea, well and calmly and gives @ woman good rea- sons for marrying him argues the matter just as though be were pleading « cause in court— the woman doesn't believe be is in earnest. It is not a case that ia governed by reasonable ar- gument, and Is to the brain are not what shecares about. The appeal must be made te the heart. He stands a good chance of success as soon ae bi The season is over, the dancing has stopped, sackcloth and ashes take the place of the bail dressand tLe white cravat, Now, then, is the time to look about you and see how the season bas turned out. Of ove thing you may be certain—the man whe bes proposed wou't tell you bow he did it GAME AT THIS MARKET. Some of the Wild Delicacies Which Wash- ington Folke Enjoy. “Washington dinners are becoming more superb and costly every year,” aid a dealer im game at the Center Market to « Stan writer. “Game is particularly in fashion and people who give luxurious spreads vie with each other in the expensiveness and rarity of that feature of the fare they offer to their guesta. To make sure of getting what is best ladies come to the market in their carringes and themselves pick out whatever is most choice. Money is no ob- ject. The usual thing now, when ® fine enter- tainment is to be given, is to gives carte blanche order to the game dealer with the un- derstanding that the cost is not to be consid- ered at all. Canvas back ducks are served always at state dinners at the White House this year, although hitherto other birds have been thought good enough. “This region about Washington more choice game than oun the United States. The exten the many tributaries of the chosen breeding grounds for woodcock, whi the canvas melancholy fact that fewer canvas back and red head ducks have been killed on the Poto- mac this year than ever bef: ‘This ix the {the pot hunter rmed with that carry a pound aud a half of barge, slaughter the birds by whole- sale. these guns that we dealers are obliged to de- pend almost whoily for our supplies. “One day, not so very loug ago, ® women sold me 1,000 reed birds which her busband lea’ single shot. In the same way re shbt on their rooste in Vir- A skillful pot hunter will Kill twenty or thirty wild geese very often e& one shot, approaching them cautiously on « moonlight night when they are sitting an the water. Another favorite way of siaughiering wild turkeys isto entice them within point blank range of a blind by meaus of « train of corn which the birds follow in feeding and by 4n imitation of their notes produced withe quill in the mouth. “There is not a very great demand for wild geese, because, although « fairly young one ie most delicious, they are apt to be hopelessly tough. It isa pure gamble when you buy one, unless you can rely upon your buicher. Jack- snipe cannot be killed with ewivelgun, bos must be shot from the shoulder, aud every hunter knows that they are by no ‘meaus easy tobit. They are found in considerable num- bers in the swamps snd lowlands not far from here, mostly in Virginia. They are the next birds to be in season. The protective laws are much evaded in the District. Woodcock are only allowed to be sold from July 1 to October 30; reed birds from September 1 to January 31; quail from October 31 to January 1; ducks irom September 1 to March 31; wild geese from Sep- tember 1 to March 31, end wild turkeys from October 1 to January 1. “some of the deer that are sold in the va: ington markets are from West Virginia, but many of them come from Minnesota aud Indian territory. Quail are shot in Muryiand and Vir- ginia, but most of them are from feras, ‘Mexico and elsewhere in we have only occasionally. chickese are mostly from Montana, They are drawm and stuffed with prairie grass, and in thet shape they are sent east in refrigerator being put in cold. storage upon arrival uuu wanted, “Some jack rabbits from the west reach Washington. From Englandcomes good many pheasants, which bave beautiful tails near two feet long. The other day party of Ara- pahoe Indians came to the market and saw Pair of these pheasants hanging up. Withou $0 much as asking permission they grabbed the tail feathers and pulled them all out, sticking them around their bate. They declared that the featuers were more lovely those of the eagle, which are commonly considered to be worth $1 apiece in the west.” frcccse twins Written for The Evening Star. ‘The True Man and His Detractors ‘The true man moves in bis own world— ‘The cosmnos of his consciousness, While neighbors read his life uufurie@ In many deeds of righteousness, Yet pass his frankly open door, Or look in through his window pane, But let one fault offset a score Of noble deeds for virtue's gain. ‘Misjudgment wields the scepter's might Assails his sterling traite of worth And robs bis manhood of that right ‘Which God implanted at his virt— ‘The right to claim his med of praise For noble work in righteous cause; For jealous envy fans « blaze ‘That burns the gems and leaves the tows, Yet vanity, it seems, is worse ‘Than consciousness without reward ‘The gift of seeing all mankind, ‘Not as they seem but as they are, Is quite as noble in the mind As seeing ourselves as we are. Benevolence from man coerced Is but taxation’s own extreme, ‘His duty shorn of well-earned praise May be hereafter better biessed ‘Than one who fans spite-envy's biase. ‘Buntox T. Dora