Evening Star Newspaper, May 14, 1892, Page 8

ee... THE OUTING SEASON. The Soft Light and Favorable At- mosphere of May. THE JACKET A STYLE GIVER. Costumes That Are Stylish and Becoming— How the Bride's Mother Shoold Dress— ‘The Outdoor Girl and Her Fascinating Accessories—The Girl and Her Sunshade. Byecial Correspondence of The Evening Star. New Ye May 13, 1892. 8 LONDON AND during which the woman of fashion unfolds ber early summer plumage | for the delight and edifi- cation of ber towns- me people. During May she te is quite content to dis es Ns play her magnificence = om the fashionable in Paris, soin New York } the month of May is the | bright particular season | basques, which are sewed on. The under fronts are Made over fitted linings and are covered with Plested crepe de chine or silk muslin. ‘The it effect is very original and stylizh, as you will note, being gathered at the neck, then divid- ing into two parts and ‘to the waist line, where they ran to a point. pointed belt, like the pl . isssewed on one side a hooked on the other and made over buckram. ‘The lining of the collar closes in the middle, the pleated material at the, ite, The outer fronts of the corsage fall straight, with a shaw! collsr trimmed with ailk. ‘There ls no jseam in the middie of the back and you must therefore hollow out the side sleeves have a narrow bias of silk at the cuffs. | With this charming costume you may wear s bronze-colored rice straw hat trimmed with a band of — en pao of roses and green grain t hardly possi- bie for you to find anything in the line of staf gowns for outdoor wear more ly and prettily designed than this. THE FAN AND THE SUNSHADE. If our only indebtedness to the orient were | the fan and the sunshade, it would bea hard one to pay off, for these two articles of the fem- inine paraphernalia enter so closely and in- timately into a woman's every-day life that they grow to be part of her. In her hands a fan becomes endowed with life. It lives and almost breathes. Only « Httle imagination ie necessary to regard itas a wing growing from the band insteed of from the ankle or shoulder. It keeps time the holder's heart, beats in unison with her feelings, now waving gent and slowly, now finttering wildly, ‘koning a. True, @ seame more than usual. The leg-o’-mutton | Cases in Which Gigantic Forgery is Charged Se ne ee Fae oe ee er oe EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D. C, by claims which might at any time deprive them of the property which they had spent years in improving. ‘This state of things, which even at this day MANY LAND CLAIMS. pa as over the ‘region a Curious and Interesting Ones That | comieton se ae dt <4 Are Now Pending. SOME ROMANTIC TALES. have become more or less injured through age. For example, a copy of one document submit- ted in evidence by the Pueblo town of Tome, in New Mexico, reads: “We fore pray you to be pleased (eaten by mice) at that time (eaten by mice) said settlers, we being dis- to settle on the same (eaten by mice),” . One of the curious formalities essential to a transfer of real estate under the old Spanish law consisted in the pulling up of and throwing of stones to the four winds by the Proprietor as a sign of possession. ‘THE SYMMES GRANT. Much trouble was caused at one time by de- fective title in a grant obtained nearly a cen- tury ago by John Cleves Symmes and a com- Pany. It was located in Obio and covered nearly # million acres, He failed to get patents for all of the land, and the rights of people who purchased portions of it were dubious un- til Congress directed that the patents shonld is- sue. Interest attnches to the case because a daughter of Symmes, who was himself a dele- gate to the Continental Congress from Dela- Ware in 1785-86, became the wife of President ---The Immense Inheritance Claimed by a ‘Woman---Unsettled Land Titles in New Mexico and Arizona. HE MOST REMARK- able claim in some re- spects ever presented to this government is now “bung up” in the De- partment of the Inte- rior awaiting the decis- ion of Secretary Noble. It includes a largo part of Arizona, covering a tract of land 149 miles long by 49 miles wide, through which the Gila river rans, and takes in mines of gold and silver worth millions of dol- toward her, now bidding * shade is hardly capable of so much feeling, but yet a sunshade is a potent weapon oman’s not only against old Sol’s but | against milder beams, too. Or it may cease to bea weapon and become an encourager of glances by timidly and coquettishly raising ite alge to let these glances in. o> W avenues and thorough fares, but with the com- ing of Jane flag and} asphalt grow too warm | for her dainty feet and she gets restless, Now- adays the big cities see less and less of the gor- geouxness of summer toilets, for the reason that the outing season begins so much earlier and lasts so much longer, and then comes the supplemental season, which keeps the fair creatures ont of town ontil late in the autamn. However. May is queen now, so long live the queen! The fact —_ i, teo, that the latter half of May often affords the woman of fashion a softer light and more favorable atmosphere than the much lauded June weather, for the reason that the first foliage. the first’ flowers, the first green- award, springing as they do from the cool lap of tearful April. are the most tender, delicate and fullest of carth’s «weetness, and therefore is it that today I'sing the early summer gown, the garb that accords with the lilac’s bloom ‘and perfume. In the initial illustration ia seen » charming specimen of that gurment which has been well named the “style giver.” I mean a becoming jacket. ‘This season, more than ever, the jacket ‘will continue to be fashion’s most striking e: emplification that grac 1 utility may be su Ax OUTDOOR GiRt. ‘The last illustration pictures a figure that be- comes very familiar before the summer is cessfully combined. This particular garment | Ver—the young girl witha sunshade. and a may be made up im serge and cheviot, black or | Slance at the ——— shows how easy it is to blue, and be embroidered with braid laid on as | Merease by a graceful touch the close relations indicated. The jacket all the way down | existing between girl and shade, by which the front, and the braided design is contained | movement she bends an arch of silk between on both sides. The collar and yoke should be | herself and some one’s else self. The young of velvet, the embroidery covering the seams. | lady in question wears a striking costume of In front the yoke reaches nearly to the bust | brocaded woolen material, witha belt in beaded dine. * we jack Atte The gown is eut princess at the back. At the front it consists of corsage and skirt. Ithooks at the back; the skirt opening closes with a flap. which is hidden under the pleats. The back has no seam. The belt is caught into the side seams and the braces end with fringed rosettes. The joining of skirt and corsage is hidden under the belt. The corsage front has no seam. It is included in the side seams with the lining. The leg-o'-mutton sleeves, the material and lining of which are of the same width, have only one seam, which is on the inside.’ From the belt the beaded fringe reaches nearly half way down the front and runs somewhat to a point. The skirt may be lined with thin silk or satinette. Great care should be taken to avoid wrinkling in the back. THE SKIRT QUESTION. The great designers are still exercising their ingenuity over the skirt, which in growing tighter at the top becomes wider and longer at the bottom. At first they were satisfied with calling it the bell, but that term no longer ap- plies. Now it isthe trumpet. This last form consists in making up the back with one breadth of wide material, the two sides of which are turned over shawl-wise from the top so that the middle of the back is in the straight line of the material, and thus the trumpet shape is at- tained. FL LACE PELERINE. Tf I am right in maintaining that Lowell should have located bis “rare June day” in the latter part of May, why then the very stylish Young person represented in the second illus tration wears « very appropriate garb to do honor to the day —a Lice pelerine of marked dis- tinction. Upon a muslin or grenadine yoke, round and ~ell-fitting, you gather the lace, which must be about three yards in length, to give requisite fulinese,and the pleats must be close together and «ewed to the yoke in such a Way as to form the ruffle shown in the picture. ‘The collar consists of ruched lace set off with a bow of double-faced eatin ribbon with long ends. ——-+e2—____ THROUGH SPACE. The Wonderful Things Seen by the Man in @ Balloon. From the St. Paul Pioneer-Press. At» height of 200 feet in the air, rushing past with tremendous velocity, gives one the im- pression of leaning out of the car window of a limited expreas, the sounds of earth die away ina murmur, and itis then that the balloon seems stationary, the earth falling away from it. Looking down from the height all surfaces appear level, mountains and valleys are alike and the world looks as if spread out and flat tened by a rolling pin. Roads and rivers re- solve themselves into narrow ribbons; forests, fields and meadows are clumps of green, red and black, with green ## the dominant color. At two miles earth ix lost to view. as in a fog. Presently the balloon begins to sail, driven by the air current. There is now no apparent motion. The seronaut experiences a feeling of oppression: the air, deprived of ite vital prin- ciple, exbansta at each inspiration; ringing sounds are heard in the ears, and one can, #0 to speak, hear the stillness. ‘The breath comes in quick, successive gasps that do not satisfy the Iungs. It is like going to one’s death. Looking upward, the horizon is bounded by the big black ball—the balloon—dark against the milky opaqueness of the atmosphere. The air ship is swaying and swinging, while the clouds, floating in a contrary d giddiness, ‘There tremors. Seconds seem how . recollections and retrospection flash across the bewildered brain as one reels through «pace. Suddenly the top of the bal- loon comes in contact with a cloud, there is a slight jar and the, next instant all is enveloped in f h the acronaut emerges soaked | with spray. And now le! Y. x the spect Sublime, dazzling. Mountains of iridesc tleeey white clouds tinged with cream: like the plumage of the cockatoo. ing combinations of color, blending and shiiting as in a gigantic bubble. "Golden greens, that melt into purple and bronze and crimson, with the sun dissolving and overflowing on their tops, Wonderful tints, such asan artist never dreamed of. To comprehend color it ix necessary to have seen the magic canvases of the clonds, The balloon ails on and drops slowly away from this panorama once more into the colorlens at- mosphere, With the descent the earth appears to rise and the balloon to remain fixed and now the operator is occupied with one idea—specnlation as to where and how he will reach earth, for distance ix incalculable and perspective « myth. The balloon is the sport of chance and is liable to deposit its passengers anywhere from the top of «church ‘steeple to the bottom of a ditch, The aeronaut takes his life in his 6wn hands when he ascends with the air ship. Should it take fire, burst in mid air or cool off too sud- dealy in striking acold current the result is collapse and disaster, for there is no safety valve to the fire balloon. The acronaut is invariably an enthusiast until he meets with an accident, after which discre- tion becomes the better part of his valor and he in content to rally substitutes for an ascension. After a few years and leave to others Uptoa of six years ago but twenty aeronauts in this country and they were in great demand at country fairs, settlers’ and soldiers’ reanions and upon legal “holidays, rural celebrations being consi incomplete BRIDE'S MOTHER IN PROCADE. As there is always a great deal of marrying end giving in marriage at this season of the Year, it may be well to know, not how the bride must be dressed, for every one knows that, but how the bride's mother should be attired.’ The altogether lovely gown worn by this charming mother-in-law that is oon to be is a silver gray brocade with silver spangles. The middle of the skirt front and the saw teeth of the lower eige are ornamented with silver Wire ribbons. The saw teeth fall over a founce of gathered lace. The train calls for three brendtbs of the brocade. It is rounded and forms two large box pleats. The closes at the back, being round in front and Pointed at the back. There ix a draped cein- ture starting from the side seams, and a draped lace effect over the bust and the upper sleeves are also gracefully draped with lace. Fan and hat Ww mateb with flowers aigrette-wise. MATERIALS FOR SUMMER. Te listen to the enumeration of summer Stuffs, foulards, batistes, crepons, grenadines, You would be tempted to ery ont: “Why, these are the very same materials that you Offered us last season.” But wait till you see ‘them, wait till these dainty fabrics “are un- rolled before your eves. Then you'll find that there has been no furbishing up’ of old styles or old patterns. They are new creations, abso- Tntely. Solomon himself would be obliged to confess this. and the lilies would be forced to ide their Quaker heads, so bright, so beautiful are these tissses fur summer wear, |, was of more im we than the Presi- ‘There is lees profit in the business now than formerly; the novelty of the ordinary balloon ascension no r exists for Americans. Ke- without the daring balloonist, who, for the time | ¥4 lars. The value of the property is about €20,- 000,000, and 25,000 persons now settled on it would be disturbed if the ownership of Dona Sofia Loreta Micaela de Maro-Reavis y Peralta dela Cordoba were acknowledged by Uncle Sem. This lady, who asserts that she is the “last of the Aztecs,” is the widow of one James A. Reavis, who was well known in St. Louis a few years ago as an individual of convivial in- clinations, habitually devoid of occupation. Whisky is supposed to have accelerated his de- parture to the tomb. The Dona Sofia Loreta Micaelo de Maro- Reavis y Peralta de la Cordoba asserts her right to the énormous tract in question as role sur- viving heir to the estate of Don Miguel de la Peralta, Baron of the Colorados, who is alleged to have secured it by grant from the King of praaiae the eighteenth century. To support the claim # mass of testimony is produced in the shape of deeds and other papers of great antiquity, photographs of which appear inter- leaved with five volumes of copied records now deposited in the general land office at Washington. Curiously enough, these docu- ments make it appear that Spanish altogether inconsistent wit! ‘grammar was used for official by persons high in civil ity, and even by royalty. that the demand is t is believed that the papers aforesaid are forgeries, and that the whole case is trumped up for the purpose of extorting compromises from settlers in Arizona. In all likelihood Don Miguel de la Peralta, “Baron of the Colorados,” is altogether a mythical per- sonage. ‘MANY UNSETTLED CLAIMS. This is the greatest of many important un- settled private land claims in the region acquired from Mexico by the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. Land tenures in New Mexiéo, Arizona and part of Colorado have been rendered uncertain by them for years. The rights alleged are based upon grants to individaals from the Mexican government or previously from Spain. Such Tights, where proven, the United States has Propored to maintain. Nevertheless, Congress not confirmed one of these claitns for fif- teen years, although hundreds of them have been pending in the general land office, while thousands more have never been offered for ad- justment. those in possession having doubtful titles and being not desirous of agitating the question of ownership wo long as they were per- mitted the use of the property. In many cases real owners have been deprived of their lands by eattle companies and squatters confi- dent of non-action by Uncle Sam. However, the last Congress appointed a board of commis sioners to dispose of these matters, which it is rapidly bringing to settlement, GRANTS ALLOWED. The biggest claim allowed in recent times to an individual was based on the famous colo- nization grant made by Spanish authority to Beaubien and Miranda in New Mexico. Miranda bought out Beaubien, and his daughter, a pretty senorita of sixteen, ‘was married by an impe- cunious scout named Maxwell, who had served with John C. Fremont. Maxwell in this way sequired the entire property. Co con- firmed his title to the whole of it, and he se- cured patents for 450 square leagues—a tract nearly equal in size to Rhode Island und Dela- ware put together. Even greater in extent was the “Carver grant,” alleged to have been deeded in 1767 to Capt. John Carver of the British army by two Indian chiefs, whose sig- natures were appended to the paper in the shape of signs of a snake anda turtle, respect- ively. It comprised an area of 100 miles square on the cast side of the Mississippi river from the Falls of St. Anthony to the Chippewa river. Capt. Carver asserted that his claim had been Tatified by the British government, but the heirs of one Dr. Peters, who purchased the rights from Carver, failed to get them con- firmed. Another enormous claim was for the so-called “Arkan nt,” covering 13,311,000 acres und ineluding a large slice of Texas as well as 8 con- siderable fraction of Colorado. It was thrown out of court. One of the queerest private land claims ever referred to. the government was for a tract oh the Island of New Orleans. As given to its @original owner, a Spanish don named Houmas, it comprised one league along the left bank of the Mississippi, with a depth of balf a league. There being no timber on it, Houmas asked and obtained from Spain a “back conces- sion” to proceed “as far a8 the vacant land ex- tended.” On the strength of this subsequent concession his heirs declared their right to all the lands between the lines clear across the island, including 120,000 acres of the most valuable real estate in that locahiy. However, it was decided that they had valid title only as far back as 8,400 feet from the river. A claim which has been struggling for years to get through Congress don application made by St. Vrain Lassus in 179 to the Span- ish governor of Louisiana for a grant of 10,000 acres. It was stated in the petition that ‘the grant was to be “located on lead mines or salt springs where the applicant could find them.” e governor wrote the word “Granted” ut the bottom of the application, but thus far the heirs have been unable to show that any lands were ever taken up under this permission dur- ing the continuance of Spanish authority. THE M'GARRAMAN CLAIM. The McGarrahan claim has become famous through the persistence with which its proprie- tor has fought for it in Congress after Congress. It was reported be a most favorably to the Senate by Mr. Teller the other day and the pros- pects for its settlement were never 6o bright as at present, although in matters of this sort there is more than apt to be a slip between the cu and the lip. “Died of a broken heart” is the epitaph which might usually be inscribed on the tombstone of those who urge claims against Unele Sam. Vincente P, Gomez had a good and clear title to four square leagues of land in California from Mexico. McGarrahan bought the tract and paid for it in 1857. About the same time New Idria Mining Company nated upon it, having discovered a quick- silver mine, from which it has since taken out more than #160,000,000 worth of that precious smbestance. ‘This is the only quicksilver mine in the United States. Of course, the concern has spent money like water to defeat MeGarrahan's efforts to get back his property, with a success which illustrates the adage that “possession is nine points of the la Another celebrated claim was based on the Vigil and St. Vrain grant in Colorado. It cov- ered 2,000,000 acres and ion of title ded by about twenty heirs. The general land office referred the matter for set- tlement to the register and receiver at Pueblo in 1874. They so adjusted affairs that one of P | young lady named Mary Hoagland in our vil- William Henry Harrison. A nephew of Symmes, named after him, was the author of the cele- brated “‘Symmes’ hole” idea. He promulgated the theory thet the earth was hollow, habitable within, open at the poles for admission of light, and contained six or seven concentric hol- low spheres likewise, open at the poles. It is probable that the government will never issue any more “land scrip,” because that sys- tem has been very much abused. This has been especially the case with the famous ‘Valentine scrip,” which was given to ‘T. B. Valentine by Cony in 1872. It was bestowed to satisfy his claim for land in California which was taken from him by Uncle Sem unjustly. ‘The extent of territory represented by the scrip was no less than 1,516,000 acres, nearly all of it in forty acre pieces. This scrip could be located on ai unappropriated part of the public domain, i eluding portions which had not been surve} It was quickly utilized by speculators, who would pounce upon a valuable patch where two townships in or near a city did not quite come together, and take possession by locating there a piece of the scrip, which could be purchased in the market for $10 an acre. In this way a forty-acre piece of scrip would be located upon a two-acre patch worth many thou- sands of dollars. One ingenious investor at- tempted to secure jon in the same man- ner of a section of the park on the lake front in Chicago, which has a value of millions. Similar methods were employed to obtain at a small price valuable portions of unoccupied lands in the west. What remains of the Valentine serip on the market is held now at about $100 an acre, Little games of a like description are worked today by sharp fellows in West Vir- ginia, where land titles and boundaries are notoriously mixed, who go through the country with surveying instruments and hunt for “lapses” between landed properties where spaces have been left by imperfect surveys. Such spaces they fence in und record claims for. One of the queerest documents on file at the general land office is an affidavit signed by un old gentleman named Toiton, declaring himself tobe a periodical drunkard. When Ilinois, which at one time belonged to France, was ac- quired by the United States ill-dixposed persons tried to rob the heirs of many old French col- onists of their rightful possessions. Toiton owned a big tract near Kaskaskia, and swin- dlers made him intoxicated for the purpose of obtaining his signature to transfers of his claims. He was thus induced to sign away his title toa vast amount of property, having absorbed “three quarts of liquor,” 'as he avers. This affidavit, together with other evidence, caused the transfers to be set aside and Toiton and bis heirs got back the land. ALIEN LAND HOLDERS. Critics of the government's land policy as- sert that most of the public domain not taken by the railways has been gobbled by foreigners. “Cheap and free lands in America” has been the ery all over Europe for the last twenty-five years, Hand bills are distributed everywhere in the old world by steamship lines and rail- ways giving glowing accounts of the paradi to be found across the seas. In these advertise- ments the arid regions of the west become fruitful fields waving with spontaneous harvests, the boundless sage brush plains are transformed | into orange groves, and the deserts from which the starved coyote flies howling is known as the “banana belt of the northwest.” The blizzard described as zephyrs of delight ailing lack of water is referred to a# cause for congratulation, inasm1 will be no swamps to produce mal: GRANTS TO RATLWAYS. Some of the grants of land made by Uncle Sam to railways are simply gigantic. The Union Central Pacific alone got 41,000,000 acres. To help along its construction the government loaned the road $25,000 per mile of tracks laid, issuing bonds for the amount required. It also gave permission that the property should be mortgaged to the extent of 25,000 a mile, such mortgage to be of the nature of a first mortgage ited States beihg satisfied with a secondary lien, Every other’ section in a strip of twenty miles wide on each‘side of the road was made a present to its owners, The latter, notwithstanding these gigantic gifte, at present owe the government 115,000,000. ‘The Northern Pacific road got no loan from the government, but secured a grant of 58,000,- 000 acres, Instead of a strip forty miles wide across the continent, such as was obtained by the Union Central and Sonthern Pacific lines, it possessed itself of an available eighty-mile strip, likewise in alternate sections. This strip includes much of the most valuable lands in the northwest, taking in timber tracte of enormous worth and rich ecoal mines, which supply the locomotives with fuel. The main sten , together with its feeders, owns pretty nearly all of the country that is worth having. From Bismarck, Dak., to the Pacific ocean the conditions governing’ the grant of the stri have not, it is held, been complied with and bil are introduced in every Congress to declare the gilt for According to the calculation of the general land office, after all deductions and forfeitures have been made, 155,000,000 acrés will be re- quired to eatisty ie ani made by Uncle Sam to railways up to 1880, re ae HIS FIRST OFFENSE. He Took a Girl to the Circus, but the Barber Spoiled the Fun. : From the Rochester Post-Democrat. “The first time I ever escorted a girl to any public place, either of worship or amusement,” said a prominent Treasury official, “my modesty and embarrassment were painful. ‘There was a lage, for whose beanty every lad was willing to fight and die, if necessary. Dan Rice's cireus was coming, and I met Mary one afternoon looking at the big bills which were flaunted everywhere. I asked her if she intended to go to the show and she replied that nobody bad invited her. I bashfully stated that I was sorry to hear it, and walked away. After going about two blocks it occurred to me that maybe Mary might go with me,so I returned and asked her if she would. “She turned her blue eyes upon me and made me shiver with delight as ube said that it would be a great pleasure for her tohave my com- pany. Well, the time came, and we had ar- ral to go to the evenit ptt doors and rushed to a Barber shop. ‘The knight of the blade stm ped his razor on my smooth face, and it me but a few minutes to get home and put on my new blue flannel suit. Well, Mary was ready fil at H Ey LETS Had & Fi i init : i Fi ; | au i i f | if i Svs) BEA bees SATURD. festa M5 2 MAY _1é 1892-SIXTEEN PAGES. “CLOSE CALLS” A Strange Superstition Prevalent FATEFUL WARNINGS. An Interesting Record Book Filled With Thrilling Storjes---One Engineer That Could Not Face His Second Call---Harry Freeburn’s Experience With Three “Calls,” the Final One Being Fatal. {J O ONE MORE FULLY ‘understands the true definition of a “close call” than the average railroad engineer. If he be still employed as a throttle puller he has experienced one or per- haps two “calls,” but never three, and has * listened to many tales of the close calls of others in the same line of business, Strange as it may appear the trade of a rail- road engineer is the only avocation that permits one or more visits from the grim skeleton of death without receiving the final summons to follow him. The miner in the bowels of the earth if he survives an experience of fire damp or the bursting of an underground reservoir will forsake his trade forever. The painter, shonld he live throngh a fall from a treacherous ladder, also foreswears outside painting. |The same can also be said of the bridge builder, the marine diver, electrical engineers and other pursuits. This assertion is only made after base investigation and will hold good ninety- ine cases out of a hundred. Superstition, of se, enters into the case to a remarkable de- gree, which may account for the strange anom- alism, but a deep, unaccountable foreboding ap- pears to those most interested and no further explanation is desired. railroad engineer has the hardihood to face two “calls,” but he knows the third one means death. The other trades look upon the second “call” as tinal. ASrar reporter some years back was per- mitted to look over a veries of books kept by a friend in the employ of a large railway corpora- tion, wherein a history of every accident is minutely recorded. The histories run back to the time of single tracks and the crudest rail- road devices. ‘The stories of thousands of acci- dents are told therein, but after careful perusal not a case was dixcovered wherein an engineer had experienced his third accident und lived. ‘The railroad engineer registers in his mind the score against his existence, and strange, indeed, is the case if the record is increased against him through carelessness. This theme is a welcome one to the majorit; of engineers, and they love to tell of the cases in which their belief has been substan: tinted by fact, ‘The case of Jack Conner is an interesting one and will illustrate how strongly this idea of sur- viving two enlls is grafted on the minds of the every-day engineer. His engine was hauling a gondola car, on which was loaded some 300 pounds of dynamite, over the New York Cen- tral road about a year ago. About twenty Italian workmen were also on the car. A spark from the engine, throngh gross carelessness on the part of the handlers of the explosive, ignited the mass of compound; Conner's fire- man and about a dozen Italians were blown to atoms and the car and engine almost demol- ished. fn the fraction of 2 second that inter- vened between the discovery of the igniting spark on the slight covering over the dynamite and the terrific explosion that followed Jack Conner threw himself behind the fire box of his engine. When found he was almost buried under the coal and debris of the engine and car. Many bones were broken and he presented a horrible sight, but his friends and physician were cheered ' mightily when upon regaining consciousness he said’ in a gasping voice: “I'll come through all right. This is my first call. T've one more yet before saying good-bye.” Conner ultimately got well, contrary to the physician's diagnosis of his wounds, althongh it was a close call, and he is now skimming the Tails as of yore, keeping a sharp lookout for his second warning. By way of contrast the case of Dick Little- wood, an engineer some years back run: tween Washington and Richmond, Va., is as illustrating the effect a “call” has on differ- ent persons. One dark, rainy night, jus i engine was rounding a short curve about fifteen miles north of Richmond, it jumped the track and he was terribly hurt in the wreck. He was taken to Richmond and it was a couple of months before he was able to go to work again. ‘Then he was given light work about the Rich- mond yards or daslight runs until he was thought to be fully recovered, About six months after the wreck in which he received his injuries he began taking regular night runs and appeared to be as good an engineer as he ever Was, One night it happened that he was put on the same train that he was on when hurt. It was noticed that he was a little nervous, but no at- tention was paid to him. The night turned ont to be the same kind of one as that on which he had gotten hurt more than eight months before. It was dark and dismal and rainy. As the train reached the point where the acci- dent occurred the fireman noticed the engineer slack up his engine, and at the same time he be- gan to get paler and paler, and as they rounded the curve where he had been ditched before Lit- tlewood uttered a shrick and fell over in a faint. The strain had been too much for him. He was taken to Richmond and was again taken off his engine, this time for good, of course, and was for a couple years later doing switch work in the yards, Asan engineer his first “call” had ruined him for life, and he often remarked to his fellow-engineers that no amount of money could hire him to steer an engine around that curve again after dark, and be was known to be # man of great nerve, too. All the old engineers on the Baltimore and Potomac road still like to tell of the experience of{Harry Freeburn with close calls, and how he finally paid the penalty with his life in not heed- ing two warnings and dropping out of the busi- ness. Freeburn was one of those fellows who are said to fear neither man nor devil. He was lion-hearted, sturdy and generous to a great degree. quantities of bulldog courage were grafted on to his hardy frame and the word. fear was a thing to be laughed at. He was an exceedingly fast running engineer and whenever the occasion arose for a fast run to be made Harry Freeburn was generally selected to pilot the engine through. A Star reporter recently came across an en- gineer doing duty at the present time between hiladelphis and Washington, and who was Freeburn’s fireman for several years and was with him when he received his last “call.” ‘This engineer related many stories of interest, the chief of which were three thrilling experi- ences in which Freeburn and he played import- ant parts. It might be mentioned that Free- burn could discount the best trooper in the land in the swearing habit. It entered so con- tinually and persistently into his conversation that Freeburn ly knew when he was com- mitting a breach, and was forgiven by his superiors for this ‘one weakness on account of his reliability and general good nature. Freeburn’s first call came in the shape of a close shave, as he termed it at the time, and while he was not hurt he told his fellow en- gineers that he thought the grim, specter was going to call upon him to follow his beck with- out even the ceremony of a first warning. ona Freeburn was the engineer fast : train that left Washington about hoon. The train was not a very heavy one, and for this could easily be attained. south of the Union depot, Baltimore, be struck the double track, and a Sees ere naan ve rut ata roy eyelet within a hundred feet of in Engineer Freebi the middle of the line of freight track and Hie if 5 i 8 ‘engine precipitated about two tons of coal and the baggage und mail carson top of Freeburn and his fireman, and their chances of being either burned or smothered to death were most Prompt and energetic work on the neath him, and before he could say “Jack Rob- inson” his wind and senses were knocked out of him by the coal and broken cars that came tum- bling down on top of him. After this last “call” Freeburn’s wife and friends tried to persuade him to give up engi- or at least accept ona yard en- gine, but he said nay. “IfTcan’t run first class T'll not run at all, and it is too late now for me to thinkof earning a livelihood at anything else,” he said as a final rejoinder. burn’s final “call” came March 4, 1880. The poor fellow, like all his companion e: gineers, had been working like a fora week previous to Garfield's inauguration, hanl- ing thousands of people to the national capital to witness that ceremony. On that fatal day, to him and others, he was coming south with an empty engine and. according to bis orders should have taken the siding ata small tele- graph station midway between Washington and Itimore to allow a north-bound passenger train to pass. Freeburn needed sleep badl; nodded for only the fraction of a minate, but in that short time sped by his siding’ and with a terrible crash dashed headlong into the north-bound train. Both train and empty engine were running at a high rate of speed and the was horrible to behold. Both engines reared up like two horses on their hind feet and then | settled down amid a cloud of dust, smoke and hissing steam. Many were injured and poor Freeburn was the last person found and taken from the wreck. the smokestack, horribly erushed and scalded. All that night he tossed on a rude couch at the lonely little station, and in his wild ravings went through his daily labors of oiling up and working his engine as if out on his regular run. He died the next day without regaining coi sciousness, a striking example of the folly of fighting against the third “call” of the grim monster—death. eee CAUSED BY A CHAMELEON. In a Lady’s Hair It Made Two Men Think They Had “Db, Ts From the New York Herald. “Twas at a ball at Fernandina a short time ago,” said the handsome purser of the Iroquois, “and the delle of the occasion wore a beautiful live chameleon on her coiffure, It was anchored with a gold cable—the lizard, I mean, not the hair. The latter unquestionably be- longed there and was as luxuriant and flaffy as the moss that hangs from the branches along the St. John’s, only it was coal black. She was certainly a very lovely woman, rather too taut in the waist, but had a charm- ingly rakish set fore and aft and was not too much loaded down about the bows. ‘That little critter on her foretop must have been quite vain of his position in society. for he showed all his colors during the evening, running up red and green and gold and silver alternatel like he was the flash light off Hatteras. The fine cable just abaft bis forelegs gave bim enough swing to move his length, and he kept signaling all the time." Of conrse the lady was very much admired; 80 was the chameleoi he had several swells from Boston and New York after her. Two of the latter fellows came down on the boat with us and bad been drink-? ing @ good deal of ‘cham’ to keep off neasickness. They were rather stylish looking fellows, and, young men of that build being scarce at the winter resorts, they had any amount of attention among the ladies, Both of them got introductions to the clipper with the chameleon, but I noticed tha; neither of them seemed to cotton to her much. The first one snapped up her card and leaned over her where she sat, and was about to write his name down for a dance, when the lizard perked up its nose at him within six inches of his face and slowly wiggled its tail. He turned as white ana new staysail and dropping the card hurried out of the room. “His friend, who had been watching for a chance to get in, «aw him go and made straight for the pretty woman. He seemed to be tickled to death to find an opening on her card and his face was wreathed in smiles when they swung out into the stream fora waltz. As they came around past me, lying at the pier—I mean lean- ing against the wall near the door—he seemed to have caught sight of the lizard for the first time. It was showing red and was straining at the cable to get over into his neck. He shut both eyes and blinked hard—the lizard changed to green and flopped ite tail at him. He looked like a sailor who had seen a jack-o'- lantern perched on the bowsprit. _ His legs had kept flying to the mnsic, but he missed the step twice, and the lady chided him. The lizard signaled blue, then green—then turned a dull copper colorthen reached out one foot for him. He slipped and got thumped in the neck by a good stout boot from the nearest coupl He gave one yell and scrambled to his feet. music stopped and a lot of people guthered around him, supposing he was severely hurt, but he got away and came out hastily, catching me by the coat ashe went by. I went out with him, laughing. “‘S—s say! says he, trembli ‘d—d—do you—d—d—did you see “The lizard in her foretop?’ says I. ‘Yes— P isn't it?” “I it—is it a real—the real live thing, you know? he asked, brightening up. “I explained that it was, and I laughed till both of us were red in the face. He was as mad as awet hen, «<<What a — fool # pretty woman will make of herself, anyhow!” says he, and bolted for a coat room. I saw both fellows in Jacksonville afterward. They were both sober and neither wonld speak to me.” ——_+e+____ A NERVY WOMAN, A Deserted Wife Locates a Claim in the Chey- enne Lands. Oklaboma dispatch to the St. Louis Globe-Democrst. ‘One of the touching scenes of the opening of the Cheyenne and Arapahoe reservation was the pathetic struggle of Mra, Margaret New- ton‘of Caldwell, Kan., for ahome. Some time since her villainous husband deserted her, leav- ing her without a cent and four children to care for. By some means or other the poor woman succeeded in getting to Kingfisher, from where she walked out to the border of the reserva- tion, “Whe three larger children had been left in town, but the baby she carried in her arms. Just before the signal for the start some kind- hearted lady from Kingfisher discovered her and took the baby to keep until she should try for her claim. ‘Then came the signal, and this little white faced woman ran amid ‘the mob of men and madly rushing horses, fearless of death, scorn- ful of danger, and like « winged Mercury led the van in the furious rush, crossed the twenty- rod line and drove her stake into the beet claim in that section of the Indian country. Like a tigress she guarded her laud and drove off everybody who learned her story and began to ing all over, before night ahe was the heroine of the region. | quite well, but the prospective groom wilted: Men took her to town and helped her to file and others bought her lumber and built her a house for and children, It is safe to Another Kansas start in that country is Mrs. J. Long, w into the county “H” with her busband and has since given birth to twin boys, break-up | He was jammed up against | Written for The Evening Star. AT THE FOOT OF THE HILL. Where the Gallows Stood When the First } Hanging Occurred in This City A MURDERER WHO WOULD NOT WAIT FOR 7 KETCH—A CRIME THAT SHOCKED THE | MUNITY—THE MeRDER LOWED RESPECTAULE BURIAL. i Verification in the Schneider tragedy. The doom that has been pronounced on Schneider is the dismal echo of the first execution in Washington, away back in ihe infancy of the nation’s capital, where the criminal paid the | death penalty for a crime similar in many ways to Schneider's —the crime of wife marie. In thosg early days, about 1803, when Wash- ington was a city in name only, crime was of a milder character'than now; so it wax with feel- ings of profoundest horror that the inhabitants learned thet McGirk’s wife was dead, and by her husband's hand, MeGirk was a respectable bricklayer, rave when “in his cups,” living with his young wife jon F between 12th and 13th streets | Returning home one nii , who was in no condit | treatment, and in a brutally. "Soon after Mrs. M: MeGirk was committed to jail the murder of his wife and and after a Jury trial was condemned to be hung. | THE GaLLows. At the foot of Capitol Hill, between Penneyl- Vania and Maryland avenues, a rude gallows was erected in full sight of poptilace, so that th: be a warning | any one disposed to foliow the example On Y appointed for the exectitic © the prisoner, accompani was placed in’an open cart, and, sur- irounded by astrong guard, and followed by a | mob of screaming, hooting men, a and children, conveyed to the place of punishment Standing on’ the platform just under the noose, which was soon to end his earthly caree McGirk intimated that he wished to s Permission being given, with one look at th throug of eager, angry faces stretching every side, he exclaimed: “When a man'« character is gone his life is gone.” Before any one guess his purpose he sprang up to- ward the noose and succeeded in pulling it over his head. Without waiting for “Jack Ketch” afix the cap MeGirk eprang off the platform. Father Young shouted: “Don't take your own lite, McGirk!” Juck Ketch tried to pull the man back upon the scaffold, and suec d so far ax his feet were concerned, but with a violent twist the desperate man again jump low had presence of m: string which held the dr last convulsive gasp flight. and it fell, With one leGirk's soul took its THRICE DISINTERRED. Although the criminal had received the full- est punishment for his crimes, public senti- ment, in abhorrence of his deed, ran #0 high that it was hard to find a grave in which to hide away the body. Holmead’s graveyard, just north of the city, was the place chosen and the | body was there ‘interred, but persons having | friends buried in the cemetery seemed to feel that “God's acre” was polluted by the presence j of a marderer and su so in the dead of night a band of determi y ned themselves with spades set outfor Holinead’s to remove le tenant. Arriving at the bury- ing gronnd they quickly dixinterred the body end removed it to ground near by belonging to Col. Joseph Nourse, but were considerate enough to bury it. ‘When the friends of MeGirk, for he still had friends, discovered the desecration of his grave they promptly re- moved the body back to its former resting place. But the Sniverly faction returned while they were off guard, determined to settle the matter finally, so for the third time the poor criminal’s body was dag up and borne some distance east of the cemetery, where a sluggish stream made its way through ‘scattered clumps of thorn, There on the banks close to the waters’ edge a hole was dug, which filled with water as fast as the earth was removed, and into this hole the coin was lowered. By judicious damming the course of the stream was turned so as to Tun perpetually over the poor sinner’s grave. Whether his friends were unable to locate his grave or whether they were discouraged by the determined opposition is not kuown, but this interment wus final, ‘Thix account of the first hanging in the District and its equally horrible sequel were given by Mr. Christian Hines, who died a few yeursago in the ninty-ninth year of his age. He was unfortunate enough to have Witnessed this first example of capital punish- ment in Washington though a boy at the time. he never Jost the vivid impressions then received. Le. Sanam’ BRIDAL PARTY. Bat for the Nerve of the Bride the Marriage Would Have Been ‘allure. From the San Francisco Chronicle. A clandestine marriage took place outside the heads yesterday morning on the tug Ida W. ‘The groom was # Christian and the bride aJew: ess, ‘They took a minister with them, who per- formed the ceremony. The groom is believed to be a resident of this city, while the bride is thought to be a resident of Oakland. ‘This marriage at sea was. little out of the general run, On Tuesday evening a young man appeared on Mission pier Lund wanted to charter the stern-wheel steamer Grace Barton to go out- side the heads, He said he bad just ran away with an Oakland young lady and that they must be married rightaway. When told that the Grace Barton could not go outside he appeared very much dieappointed and endeavored to get the tug Ida W. Capt. Dan James dissuaded him from going out to sea at night, as the bar was breaking. After a consultation with the prospective bride it wus decided that the wed- ding should be deferred until yesterday morn- ii A SE ng Promptly at 9 o'clock yesterday morning the bridal couple boarded the Ida W. They were accompanied by the groom's sister, her hus- band anda tall, slim minister. ‘The bride was good looking, short and plump. She was of dark complexion and her features were of the Jewish east. She appeared about ninetecn yeurs old. Her dress was snuff-colored, and «he wore a small hat. The groom was about me- He did not appear over nineteen years old, and only the faintest sign of @ moustache. was ¥is- ible on bis upper lip. ‘There was a pretty good ewell on the bay, but the wedding party insis Q remaining on deck, and located themselves on a big haweer at the stern of the tng. As Point Bonita was neared the tug began to pitch and roll. When directly between the marth and south heads a comber broke over the tug. deluging the wed- ding party. Nota dry stitch remained on any of them after this, am s0 sick. ‘The brother-in-law seemed to «tand the ordeal “Do let us turn back, captain,” suid he. stand this any longer.” ill not!” cried the bride, “at least a ‘No, we will ps that claim will | not until we are married. “All right, my plucky girl,” said Capt. James, “the marriage goes.” ed citizens, headed by | dium sized and nicely dressed in a black suit.) | The adage that “history repeats itself” finds | BUTTONS AND THEIR MAKING. What They Have Done for Costeme= Methods of Manufacture. “Buttons have played « great part in the * said a scientific man toa STAR writer, ere invented only dern times people de! and flowing robes, which were thing a body. In days of old the tailors and dreme makers paid no attention to “fit,” having re gard merely for the graceful adjustment of drapery. All thi i by buttons, They were y any useful for ornament contiy. However, it wax ne utility for taste realized. They bronght about a compl theory of costume. “Buttons have b eo necessary to ebvilize tion. It is difficult to see how mamhin get along without them now. Only anv the indolent peoples of the orient dispe They are made of every conceivable ma- terial almost, including all the metals from ge to + pearl, iv t dia rubber jet, porcelut rane etufls and cloths stamped with dies ted Ntates ti repulverized and the pow- ik by machinery. The are baked ina farnace, water glass’ and aguin baked. When ¥ are poliched by being placed in @ ating barrel of water. Finally they are dried U given an additional pol ting bare lain buttons ornamental arti- earthen ware, The moiste clay | pressed into plaster of paris molda, and. the bute lias ‘molded. ater being ‘dried on vena first firing and baking im At thie stage the baked but- Ake tons are called “biscuits.” Then they are glazed direct! orned with: pare fixed by further bakit ha sign ie prin y plate with a peculiar ink on tissue paper. winch ix placed while on is moixt on the biscuit ware, After the ink hax bad time to dry the paper is removed, leaving the design on the buttons. “Mothér-of-pearl butto: with a small revolving circ requires great skill mportant object bein to get as many buttons as possible out of wo | shell. If the mother-of-pearl split in are th are cut by hand jarrow. The work thick enough, two layers. Finest of mace from the white- wht from the East worth €800 a ton her-of-pearl in powder, which is, mined with ma paste and molded into buttons of an inferior qaalit mn t THE SUMMER SANDWICH, How the Consoling Morsel May Be Cultt- vated and Improved. From the New York Evening Sun. The sandwich has celebrated its centennial, but considering that it ix the mainstay of lunch counters, the support of travelers, the strength of teas and the ally of the most imposing fextiv- ities —that it is, in fact, consumed in hundreds of thousands daily by innumerable people, it has received very little cultivation. Ithas advanced very little beyond the first ernde definition, « dissimilar substance between two similar substances. Now that, with the gpening, of the picnic season, it ix to have e rgeand more in place than ever, something may be waid of the varietice of sand” and of species little known. The sandwich ommerce is kept. purposely dry that it may stimulate the demand for artificial moirture. ‘This was never meant to be. The sandwich, properly constructed, carries ite own moisture, his in’ the case of meat sandwiches ix aspic jelly. Aspic jelly is nothing but the jelly of cold meat stock, flavored with herbs, epices and 1h le wine, ‘There is an aspic Jelly that may be bonght but the suspicion of gelatine destroys its urefal ness. ‘The aspic jelly made at home is nourish- ing and savory. Whatever may be the meat used, it is cut in thin slices and dipped in the aspic jelly. This not only keeps it moist, but imparts an agreeable fly he bread should be at least two days old for sandwiches that are intended for transporta- tion. If a sandwich is to be eaten immediately very fresh bread cut with rharp knife may be as thin as wafers, and for show occasions may Le rolled, ax the particles have tenuousness that stale bread does not have, But the picnic sand wich, the sandwich of travel, should be sub- stantial and the bread cut at least « quarter of an inch thick. For game sandwiches brown bread may be used. ‘The slices of game, after having beeu dipped in aspic jelly, should havee little lemon juice eprinkled over ty Chicken sandwiches are made slices of bread wil butter. Bechamel ter and milk, to which is added white «tock and flavored with green onions by boiling them with the eauce and then straining. ‘Thns spread thin pieces of the white meat «prinkled with salt and pepper are laid between. If butter ie used the sandwich is improved by mixinge little ham with the chicken ax a relish, Salmon sandwiches are made by ng the bread with mayonnaise. to which axpic jelly bax been added until it is of the consistency of butter. ‘The sahmon should be «tripped in flakes and all the grease removed. Xprinkle lightly with salt and pepper. The sandwich is improved by adding « thin layer of sliced cu- cumber before covering with the top «lice, Shrimp sandwiches. using the bottled shrimps, may be made in the same way. Pate de foie sandwiches need only the re minder that there should be an appreciable amount of bread, otherwise they will be too . Randwiches from potted meats should be sprinkled with lemon juice. Mayonnaise im stead of butter relieves their monc y side of meats that, in fact, become wearisome, Hard-builed egg windwiches oecur to every one, ‘There are y improved by the addition of & little water cress, lettuce or chi Salad n the palate is apt to grow fastidious, ise, with aspic jelly in which « little has been chopped, is used instend of nd the beet, tomato, celery or lettuce pieces that will rende: them manage Asparagus tops and stewed celery, mixed make bechamel mwuce, lighttul sund- ich that bas been popular this winter is made from what the bakers call finger roll», ‘There are cut half in two and the crambs scraped out. The hollow ie then filled with force meat, the covers readjusted and tied with narrow ribbons. ‘There is an egg sundwich that is of re pute in the west a* picnics, both for ite suvori- ness and its good looks. Hard boiled so cut that the yolks may be removed without injuring the egg. The yolks are then mashed and mixed with gether and held in. by betel inane papers of and ‘o then id together two by two. The i twisted and the fringed wrapped in these & ¥ “iets inquiry as to the flies to use for rainbow trout E E i 5 i i { i i fit if ii il £ i F i i H i 2 z i & i i ii ' i ale a i pie i F t fi i by E 0 weighed and Seta trig S|