Evening Star Newspaper, September 3, 1892, Page 11

THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON. D. C. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 1892-SIXTEEN PAGES. COLORS FOR AUTUMN. Changes That Fashion Brings in Shades, Materials and Style. THE POPULAR GREEN. | | det te Destined to Appear Every where—Light Sleeves Will Not Be the Proper Thing— bome Attractive Combinations Seen in New York. Naw York, September 2, 1892. REEN-—BRIGHT, ing. grass green — to be the reigning color this fall. It ap- pears in the new goods Doth as a solid color and combined with any other conceivable shade. All the new tints, however, | appear to be of the brightest. Those we | have known for many years past as “‘old fash- ioned” are now the new- est and most descrable. Any one whoisfortunate | enough to own a trunk- | ful of her grandmother's troussean gowns will) only have tochange thecut of them slightly and be | the envy of all her friends, for the Bayardere | stripes and all the heavy brocaded satins with bright and many colored flowers or paim leaves and the fignred moire antiques are now once more to the fore. f Indeed. the changes that fashion brings this fal seem to be much more in the materials than in the making of gowns and wraps. The wraps area little longer and a little more shapelese, and the dresses have alteced hardly at all in style. Aramor to the effect that sleeves were to be tight once more hax been proved to be incorrect by tho first installment of imported | costumes, which seem to have sleeves rather faller than smaller than hitherto. often of different color and mate waists, usually matehing the waixg coat or trim- | ming of the gown. The skirts Ure all bell-| shaped still, but those of walking dresses are | of amore sensible length, barely touching the | ground instead of dragging several inches through dust and dirt. Large fancy buttons are to be much «sed in trim: I saw a lot of brocaded satins and velvets yes terday that are soon to be upon the shelves « ene of the largest and most famous dry goods | shops in New York. and among them all was hardiy one that did not call forth the mental exclamation “How very ugly!” They varied in price from $3 to $18 per yard. FOR STRERT CosTUMES. | Among the materials most used for street cos- tumes during the coming wjnter will be black satin or silk or a combination of both, with col- ored figures or flowers or stripes upon it. One of the new importations in this style was a Diack moire antique cotelee, with Pekin stripes of green or reilow. Among other novelties was “a gray damax broche. which was liberally sprinkled with brocaded ‘confetti’ in red, pink and yellow. It really looked us if little candies had been strewn over the silk, and was curious, if by no means beautiful. i Most of the new brocades have small designs, recently on other ¢ crimination the thera: ‘Tarchanow is right the degree of inusien! doct ferred on $ have a new signi rather a broad view. light-colored wraps is their lining, which is ‘usually of black tatin, with « colored Sower oF figure. Much more elaborate was an opera cloak of fawn satin brocaded with tinsel and with red and blue flowers and reaching to the knees. It bad sides, sleeves and yoke gray ish biue velvet, the yoke being embroidered gold. Lace ruffles finished the front in combi- nation with very elaborate terie in fawn, gold and blue. ‘The back fell in » Watteau plait beneath the yoke. WITH A WATTEAU BACK. Mahogany velvet and black guipure lace were the materials used in another long wrap. It had a Watteau back, with jet outlined yoke, & Marie Lonise collar. with long moire ribbons hanging from the back, full sleeves and « ruf- fling of the lace on front, and sleeves headed with the jet. A simple ‘little jacket x of cloth was very pretty, if rather sha had a seamless front, Wattowu back and was ornamented with large pearl buttons, which fastened the double-breasted front. IMPORTED ROBES. One of the novelties of the season are the im- ported cloth robes with applique borders of colored cloths and braid. outlining a bell- shaped skirt. Avery handsome one was of navy blue bordered with a pattern in red, green and yellow cloth applique in « curious each color edged with black braid. ‘This had on the piain piece of goods intended for the waist three fittie capes with the round edges marked by the border and also a stand- ing collar and cuffs. The oriental colors and designs appear in these robes as well as in the silks. BEAUTIFUL LACES. This year beautiful laces are being imported in bell-shaped skirts for wedding and ball gowns. Fora bride nothing could well be lovelier than the exquisite point aj pligue trained skirts and the price is only $1 e bell skirts come also in dainty Chantilly lace. Of course, the vis come to match. A great deal of lace is to ve used this year, and real laces are in unusual demand, being used for the ‘Most part in narrow widths. Black thread lace and black Chantilly are to be much in vogue as well as the heavier laces. Among the new laces isthe “Pointe de Paris guipure, ik and cot- ton lace that comes in ecru and white, It is made of fine silk cord ona cotton mesh, irish lace with net top is dainty for evening dresses. ‘These come as insertings as well as for flounc- ings. Black Milanese lace for flounces has a curious square mesh and is very effective. Black Spanish hand-run scarfs are being intro- duced once more and are being sold in large numbers. : — MUSIC AS MEDICINE. SWEET Instead of Toning Up a Sick Ma: Re “Tuned Up.” From the New York World. Prof. Tarchanow of St. Petersburg lectured “The Influence of Music on the Haman Organism,” and affirmed that music is of the greatest service in the treatment of dis- He May ease, and that, by the proper use of music the system can be “tuned” like a musical instra- ment, Sufferers from nerve disorders can, he “ must be employed with discrimination, as in some cases it produces an effect contrary to that which tes, be soothed by music, but the remedy intended. Well. opium will do that, and so will many when they are not “used with dis- so that is no disparagement to tie virtue of music. So if Prof. nd he is a scientific man— uch as was con- Sullivan, i very likely to ance. The subject opens up Arthi Where will a college for such musical doc- by the way, except in the case of palin leaves, tors be located? Where can a man studying A dark bine changeable silk showing gree in | musical medicine learn the effect of some he. the folds was brocaded in a small red figure. | roic remedy, like the trombone, without orig- satin de Lyon ombre red and blue hada wide- inating a scourge of nervous diseases? The shaded stripe of different browns. A most fcksir was a silk and Scotch plaid very and with the green and blue enlivened with plenty of golden yellow. SATIN AND LATTICE WoRK. “¥elours pointelle” is the name given to a satin over which runsa close lattice-work de- sign in velvet of a contrasting color—say brown over blue. A “velours ombre” in green and bine and brown shaded changeable stripes was really @ beautiful thing. although one would The brilliant plumage of the peacock’s tail is imitated in the colors of another shaded velvet, and a third is striped with narrow threads of gold. | satin ombre in shades running from green to brown had a velvet design in cachemere colors bro- eaded upon it. spingle” velvet is the name of another new weave. It isan uncut velvet coming for the ‘most part in the fashionable yellowish greens. “Velours de Nord” looks very like plush. It comes in several colors and is ombre like most of the new velvets and silks and comes with wide Bayardere stripes well calculated to make all short women look as badly as possibie. ‘These stripes also appear in many of the silks and satins. FASHIONABLE GREENS. Among the new and fashionable greens are “Gourka,” “feuillage,”” “asperge,” “tilleul” (a very yellowish green). moss, melon, “gros trope) and orange. | as the combination of colors that ap- pear in Indian shawls. | For the evening have been imported a great variety of brocaded cameleon aud ombre satins | and moire antiques. A yellow damask had a| large design of white orange blossoms, a pearl yy cameleon was brocaded in large palm Terres flied with white mistletoe and a blub one hhad the same palm leaves filled with morning glories. A pink Pekin nacre had changeable Velvet stripes of darker shades. Pink and melon stripes of satin made brilliant Diue Pekin Victorian. Very gay was a w satin and silk in stripes divided by yellow and decorated with bunches of many-colored flowers in natural colors. A changeable velours glace of Nile and dark greens bad a deep border of palm leaves in | the brilliant oriental colors. It was not pretty, but we might get used to it m time. SILK ORENADINE INSTEAOF NETS, I was told at the lace department that no nets are being sold this fall except a few to visitors | from the south and west, but silk grenadine has place to some extent. One of the ly imported Parisian gowns was of black crepe grenadine with narrow Bayardere stripes | of pink satin. The bell skirt was made per- fectly plain with ashort train. The bodice was short and was finished in the back with a pink cord at the belt. while the front had a painted Swise waist. each plait outlined with a pink silk cording. The full sleeves had tight-fitting satin | cuffs to the elbows. THE PRINCESS STYLE fs still most popular, and many dresses made in this way appear among the new importations. One reception gown in this fashion was of inkish heliotrope poult de soie brocaded in op leegennal and pink flowers with green Yoaves. ‘The back had a Watteau plated train, Irish guipure fell over the hips and bung in Soft full folds upon the shoulders. The front with the lace rufiles combined With iridescent pasemente: A very neat little gown was of black moire eutique with a narrow blue silk puff to outline ‘the bottom of the slightly trained skirt headed With gold and jet gimp. The short basque was trimmed with revers of biue silk edged with the gimp, and the blue waistcoat was draped i black guipure lace. The sleeves also had cuffs of the blue will. Jet nail heads were the decorations used on a fawn-colored velvet walking dress. The basque had & black velvet yoke and narrow pointed ‘Yest outlined with large nail heads. The front of the bell-shaped skirt was covered with nail very small at the waist and growing gradually until the hem was reached, where jete the size of a 25-cent piece were used. | ‘WRAPS FOR WINTER. Some of the new winter wraps will come to the bottom of the skirt, A very handsome with sable and four large Rhine- short He i 8 jt F Wf i f 7 | f i f brom musical ii course the | Harford, an Englishman, | experiments made by the St. Cecilia Guild that useful hand. | maiden to medicine, and in this age of “nerves” bas« drum mav be an admirable substitute for te of potassium in delirium tremens, but how is that fact to be determined? It is pos er, to build the college in the middle uninhabited tract, where profes- jents can literally wrestle e of course only a certain nnmber of Will a musical doctor practice, will they or will he become a t. a first violinist, so estra of the pro- mes a specialist he must s by administering dif- an song from “Lohen- Iv have one effect upon a -ra-ra-boom~e-ny"" another. attributes the frequent failure e disease to its being used at the ng time and in unsuitable cases. So of oung musical practitioner will ex- ercise the nicest judgment. some standard rules like stupor” or all of up his in the grand ¢ If he be fferent disew of music to ¢ wr ‘Wagner in case of ‘Offenbach in melancholia,” but he | will never dream of giving “I Owe Ten Dollars | other. to O'Grady” when an unfortunate has taken arsenic with suicidal intent or of prescribin, the newest ballet music for a git] wudfe: ing with St. Vitus’ dance. The Russian savant expressed the conviction that « time will come when musi the hands of scientifically trained physicians” will be ac- knowledged to be an agent of great power for the relief of suffering. It would be now if it were “in the hands of scientifically trained physicians.” Their training bas taught them to detect human suffering. They can see a man wince when his ear is shocked: they can see him squirm and twist. smiling all the time, while some one sings “The Last of Sum- mer” out of tune. They can, in fact, hear his teeth grate when his favorite air is played false. Can the ordinary young person at tis piano do that? Can the leader of the German band? Can the fellow with the hand orgai “How can music fail to rel ‘Tarchanow, “when a series of has proved that it is the most powerful regulator of men's moods and feelings which dominate many of the psychical and physical life of the organ- ism?” A profane critic might suggest that musicians, as a class, do not exemplify that per- fect “regulation” of their emotions which might be expected. The professor has doubt never seen two bandmasters pulling each other's hair ina fight about the proper tempo of the Dead March in Saul. It is even possible that he has never heard of rival prima donnas scratching and clawing. But this failure to regulate the emotions of musicians may be the result of the tolerance begotten of overuse. ‘The same thing happens in the medicine of the present day. An old morphia fiend can take ough of the drug to kill a dozen ordinary men. Then there are, of course, those Styrians who, beginning to take arsenic when they are young, are, in years, able to eat it as some peo- ple do garl However all this may be, the sedative effect of music on patients in whom the instrument of mind is weet bells jangled out of tune and harsh’ universally ,admitted. Canon ‘ted clinical i show that it has a distinctly beneficial effect ‘in certain cases of insomnia. Here. too, one would think the tune employed would have to be chosen with very mice judgment. If a gentle- man is in a condition that he sees pink monkeys with azure tails running up and down his bed ota it would mably be better to play to fim “Throw Him Down, MeClusky” on. the French horn than “Go to ‘Sleep, My Baby,” on Cieete. docile, "ib soles pain, Music, doubtless, relieve pain, not by acting oa the nerve centers, but by distracting the sufferer's attention. This is the true field for music as a therapeu ney, and it is sme probable that it ever can do more. made trees and mountains dance to his lute, and the Pied Piper's music purged Hamelin of rats, but it is very doubtful whether Canon Harford will ever charm away a tumor or rida tuberculous lung of bacilli. Within limi however, music may be a most it might possibly be made to play an im- portant part in the prevention of the many diseases which are fostered if not actualiy.en- n Gisrtord and his colleagues maybe to persevere in their efforte to press the most spiritual of the fine arte into the service of vaffering humanity. : “A Summer Trip."” ‘From Puck. Ore Scaea— FF Fr pocket.” —New agais dered by depression and fatigue. Canon encouraged BEAUTIFUL OLINDA. ‘A Fashionable Resort Whose Old- Time Glory Has Departed. LIFE AMONG THE LOWLY. (The Huts of the Negroes and Half Breeds— How the Small Sugar Planters Get Their Product to Market for Shipment—The Pack ‘Train and Its Travels. Fyom The Star's Traveling Commissioner. Praxamsvco, Brazit, July 80, 1892. HOUGH THE OLD- time glory of the Beautiful” suburb departed with the days of the gay Count Moritz, the tour- ist in Brazil should not fail to pay it a visit. ¢ You ean go out in a carriage if you wish, for, unlike Bahia with its steep streets and * sedan chairs, there are plenty of public vehicles to be hired in Per- nambuco, but by far the better way, in accord- ance with the good old rule of doing as the Romans do when in Rome, is to go by rail. The exceedingly narrow gauge road was built and equipped by English contractors, ashe who runs may read in its queer little locomotives and the square boxes of cars that look like a boy's toy train rather than one de- signed for actual use. The unballasted road is a succession of sharp grades and sudden curves, over which you are yanked and bum in the springless coaches, amid heat, dust, fleas and perspiring fellow sufferers, yet the short trip “paye" so well in a scenic’ point of view that one is inclined to make it again and again. Between the city proper and suburban Olinda along, narrow sand bank iptervenes, with the Beberibe river on one side (the same’ that cuts Pernambuco in twain) and the harbor on the other. On the ocean side, hardly « quarter of a mile from the railway, stretches the famous recife, or coral reef—a’ natural parapet which at Bighest tide is marked only ine of fleecy spray as the billows dash against it. At low nd enjoy the novelty of « romenade in the midst of the sea, a la Peter. e nearly level top is about ten feet across, the external rocks dark brown in color and thickly coated with shells of many species. Tf you have nerve enough and are not in- clined to “lightness in the upper stor you may walk away ont to the old round- towered fort at ite northern extremity, where a natural break in the reef admits ve-eels to the rbor. The queer, brick-topped fortress, which bristles all over with guns like an excited hedgehog, was built in the early days of the Duteh occupancy of Pernambuco. Its founda- tion blocks of hewn stone imported from Eu- Topo are placed lengthwise to the wea and bound together by heavy bands of iron. HUTS OF THE NEOROES. Having passed the fort the car track runs through a low, swampy level, filled with dense thickets of bamboo and wild banana, bordered by groves of cocompalm and mango trees and occupied—as to humans—only by negroes and very poor half breeds. Their dilapidated bute of mud-plastered bamboo are a sight fit for the world’s fair, and, having inspected the interior of” one,” you bave seen them iL. There & floor of naturel earth ling of snake-harboring thatch, filthy rab- ish piled in every corner and nothing whatever in the line of furniture beyond a few cooking pots. a dried cow skin, spread upc [in lien of a table, and dirty hammocks, which serve for beds and chairs, But the walls are profusely adorned with highly colored prints of virgins and saints, attired in all the hues of the rainbow, surrounded by rude crosses and other emblems of religion, and. invariably the place is swarmed with naked babies, scrawny eats, long-legged fowls and the hideous, no-hair dogs of the country, which look de- cidedly more like overgrown links of sausage or animated sections of stovepipe—of a dull red color, with a few bristles standing erect at either end—than any canine species, OLINDA THE BEAUTIFUL. Olinda occupies several low, green hills He can lay down | 8Touped close together and clothed with | | luxuriant vegetation, sloping gently to the At- lantic on one hand and to limitless plains on the ‘y hill ix topped by a church or a convent, There are at least a dozen church and Lalf that number of convents within stone's throw” almost of one another, all em- | bowered, like the comfortable villas that stretch | away for miles toward the interior, amid a very | riot of fruitage, fragrance and bloom. The j houses are pretty much alike, large, square, | two-storied, the outer walls washed white as snow, roofed with dark red tiles and broken out all over with a perfect rash of gelonzias or lat- | ticed balconies, the same old Dutch style of architecture which used to be so common in Rio de Janerio at the time of King Joas' arrival, but now seldom scen at the metrop- olis, because that wary monarch, sec- |ing’ how the gelonzias might afford’ snug laces of concealment for the assassins who | threatened his royal person, ordered them all pulled down. Some of the domes and cupolas of Olinda’s churches and conventual tutions are covered with Dutch Qiher# with imported marble no whiter mn the stuccced walls, and 8 few are quaintly decorated with bits of earthen- ware, of many colors, Inid on in regula: regular crazy-quilt sort of mosaic, ‘There is an old chapel of Italian friars, which has its whole facade and bell tower covered with this singular stucco, which, viewed from a distance and glittering in’ the sunshine, looks costly enamel, but shows coarse and tawdry |a near approach. stands a theological seminary. which is said to have an annual average of 200 students. ‘There was a law school here in those early days when Olinda’s aristocratic denizens looked down with contempt upon this commercial neighborhood of the port, but when fickle fashion turned her back upon the former the school went too and is now flourishing in the once despised recife. THE PRETTY HAMLET OF CAXANGA. When local fashion deserted this beautiful syburb she took up her abode at the other ex- | tremity of **Recife” out toward Caxanga, a pretty little hamlet eight miles from the 5 reached by another narrow-gauge railway and completely hidden from the approaching trav- eler's view by a valley full of orange groves and fig trees. Ite dwellings are like the rest in these insti- tiles, parts, square, two-storied, many-windowed, white- or coated ‘with vari-colored tiles; all are surrounded by beautiful sand orchards of bread fruit, fanciful ways; for example, by glasa globes of various colors, always placed three in a group like = pawnbroker's sign, and by shrubs trimmed in unnatural shapes, while the statuary, asa rule, is all crowded upon the veranda, as ifthe owner were af: ‘to leave ? i i i H rly Hy a if H He 7) z S a E i { : a Ht if HH il E f L} fashionable residence | each the ground | Upon the highest” hill | distinctively Portuguese. face—thin, bronze, with burnii eyes whose most promi- nent ex ion is of insatiable curiosity and next of suspicion; cotton shirt and tron- sers, the former rolled to the 5 latter the knees, bis brown feet bare or thrust into Sragtes steamer i, perel on to} Two Iai ol of suger strapped on exch ide of the pie followed bya train of mules, each similarly laden. The master leads the procession. his feet thrust forward under the "a nose; the mule next him is, a trained monkey in lieu of human drivers; the next by a pair of scrouming perrots, another by « and Mert fo the buntoces iarhand st of geidng tos cargo safely to as the master himeelf. There are rawhides to protect the sugar from rains and heavy dews, and night after night the calvacade bias peacefully camped by the wayside, the Sertanejo to sleep in his hammock the starry eky i gus betvesn two trees, wit —— for a counterpane, monkey.parrots, et al. branches above and the animals tethered near. of dawn all are astir, and hav- goes behind his horse, seizes hold of his parrot in his own particular bog of he tay ute his foot on the hock joint a1 the load that this is the signal to take his place in the train, and in an instant the eavaleade is canter- ing down the green valley under the dew-drop- ping trees | that overhang | the ‘highwa y invariably stop Inst in “Caxanga—partly from habit and cause there are vendas on purpose (similar to the mesones of Mexico and the of Peru), and also to fortify himself for tomor- row's conflict with traders presumabl a than himself, so that during the semi-annual sugar harvest time this little hamlet, notoriously py and quiet by day, suddenly wakes ap to few turbulent and boisterous nights, when gaming rune high andrum flows freely. “But at daylight the Sertanejo is again on the road, pausing only at the bridge of San Antonio to pull off bis hat and mutter a prayer to the patron saint of travelers in ite wooden shrine and clattering into the ‘Trapixe quarter of the port befor: wun is fairly up. A BUSY MARKET. Until within a few years the sunrise hour was the busiest time in Pernambuco, und during the sugar season Trapixe market presented a scene which for varied interest could hardly be sur- passed in the world. ‘There were the country Sertanejos in full force, with their horses, mules and sugar bage; the city merchants in dainty suite of white linen, delicately fingering samples cf sugar; venders of cakes, oranges, dulces and beverages, screaming their wares in high falsetto; wood dealers with twin bundles of fagpota strapped to their donkeys’ poultr; iy ‘ows and goats, each with ite muzzled offspring tied to its tail, driven the rounda to be milked to the order of customers, chattering monkevs, shrieking parrots, capti song birds, a perfect babel of sounds—the heat pixe sugar murket, and sugar oving cause. Nowadays the railways and coasters, which in two-thirds of the crop, and the new ugar exchange, which opens at 9a, m., have somewhat moditied the scene by lessening the | number of Sertanejos, but have by no means done away with the latter or diminished their picturesqueness. The ordinary price of sugar at Pernambuco is 3_centa per pound for brot sugar and 4 for white. The white sugars ai | almost exclusively sent to the various Brazilian rts and up the Rio de la Plata, while the | brown goes to the United States and England. Faxxre B, Wax. | | of itall the | the m ee SHOPPING IN LONDON, | American Purchasers Find Themselves i Much in Need of a Glossary. London Letter to Boston Transcript. Either the English salesman is an abnor- mally tactless individual or be has been ac- customed to generations of shoppers whose mental capacity has been of the smallest, for he invariably treats one as though one were an idiot of the very first water. have said, unless the cust | Whatebe wants and avks for it in language [understood by this popular people rhe | runs a very slim chance of getting anything |at all. Thus the must not usk for “mus- | tin,” but for “long cloth.” while if she wants | some “Swiss” che must ask to be shown “mus |lin.”” If she wants some “calico” for her servants’ dresses she must not ask for that, but rint.” ‘Calico,” on the other hand, auked fur if one wants wome cotton or sheeting. She must not speak of a “spool of cotton” unicss she wants to be greeted with the stony stare of vacuous ignorance, but for “reel of thread,” and then it may be | placed before her with the smirking query, “And the nex’ thing, midim!” for it may be | noted that salesinen and saleswomen—who, by they way, have not yetattained the doubtful ele- vation of our sales “ladies” and “gentlemen” — | ‘mmidim” their feminine customers to the vi exasperation. Aguin, if youask for a pair f shoes, wnat in America are known as “ties” | will be offered to you, while if you ask for | “boots” you may possibly get what rou want, though it is hardly probable. ‘The English boot | is adapted to the English foot. “You have an American foot,” said a bootmaker the other day, “and I haves oot in my shop that will really fit you.” An American’ woman's only chance of getting what she can wear upon her | feet in this country is to goto a French shop, | and then she has to pay about 50 per cent more 1 New York. One gives 2 guineas, or @10, pair of shoos such as Alexander or Slater would let one have for $7._If,- however, one | goes to one of the very best Bond street houses, where they make only to order and like to have a customer bring an “introduction,” one really gets better value for one’s money, for the prices | range & little below those of kindred New York in )lishments. hecanta ‘ . jut to return the 10} t's lossary of | terme. You suust not ea tore eile skirt,” | but for a “top petticoat; "wa skirt here ia only | used in describing the outer and visible gar- | ment, the inner and more piritual affairs are all “petticoats.” Similarly if one speake of ‘a waist,” as transatlantic phrase is wont to term the upper portion of a street or other dress, the dressmaker will turn on one with » pitying smile and remark, “Do you mean a body or « bodice?” while the American “bodice” is here an “underwaist.” While if a reference is made to “corsets” she will correct one in the same tender fashion: “Oh, you mean » peir of stays.” Don't ask for'a’“morning wrapper” but for a “dressing gown.” If you want a pair of “rubbers” to guard against the London slush and mud don't try to buy them under that name, but ask for “‘goloshes.” The Eng- lish havea tradition that Americans all refer to the articles as “gums,” and declare that we ordinarily request a visitor to ‘wipe his gums on the door mat,” a harmless double entender which affords them the keenest enjoyment. If ith which to for must | twill you want some coarse “Swiss” make servants’ caps you must know it by the name of “book nfuslin” or you will never get it, for, asI have said, the English salesman never cares to meet one half way and try to find out what the customer wants. If one were to ask for “paper muslin” he would havea fit. He only knows it,as “ cam- bric” and resents any other m ture, As to things not essentially feminine, but still in the women’s department as pu: be reads” are “quilts,” ‘quill ‘tidies” are “ant ” and “window shades” are “‘blinds,” whether of the roller or Venetian order mattering not. ++ SOME SOCIAL DEFINITIONS, Nationslism and Anarchiom at the Extreme Poles—Absurd Confusion of Them. “ome say that nationalism and sooialism are identical and others say they are not. Others THE DECORATE D KEARSARGE. THE OLD KEARSARGE. How Her Model on the White Lot Will : Appear. IT WILL LOOK AS THE VESSEL WAS WHEN SEE YOUORT THE REBEL CRUISER ALABAMA—THE ‘METHODS OF THAT FIERCE NAVAL STRUGGLE BRIEFLY BEWEARSED. HE UNITED STATES STEAMER KEAR- sarge of today is not the Kearsargo that sunk the pirate cruiser Alabama. The old Kearearge was a low, snake-like vessel, bark- rigged, with only a berth and quarter deck and short forecastle. As Naval Contractor Hick- burn happily expressed it, she was in appear- ance an ideal water hound, to ran down just such vandals as the Alabama. The Keursarge of today is quite another vessel in appearance. She is the old Kearsarge overhauled, being ow vquare-rigged, with a quarter deck, and much more comfortable for officers and men. The old Kearsarge was hastily built to meet an emergency, and her very appearance was sug- gestive of mystery and reserve power. In her changed ap) ce she is proud looking and imporing. Whe Kearearge building on. Grand Army place is a reproduction of the old Kear- sarge. THE SHIP AS SHE Was. Maj. Michael's idea was that the boys would like to see the ship as she appeared in action with the Anglo-rebel cruiser Alabama, whose successful operations for a time were enough of mystery to excite the imagination and to clothe her with the character of a phantom ship scarcely less unreal than that gi the most daring highwaym: imagination bad run rampant till many of our ople feared to have one of our war ships meet er. The English newspapers and many of our own, who seemed to glory in the achievements of the rébel rover, omitied no opportunity to intensify the public notion that , ; yetwas nowhere to be found when our ships. The Alabama hed access to all seas, was supplied with coal by English vessels when whe ran short, seldom entered a port and hence could’ not be readily traced. She destroyed the vessela she cap- tured and then disappeared. Her career was brought to f, however, off Cherbourg, France, on Sunday, June 19, 1864. The Ala- bama was caught and forced to fight. Ata distance of one mile the Alabai ‘all broadside at the Kearsarge with little fect. The Kearsarge headed etraight for the ene: intending to run her down or close with her. ‘The enemy fired broadside after broadside in Are cil wittin 700 varda when she feessbed her ire in 700 5 starboard broadside and “‘let drive.”” DIFFERENCE 1X THE EFFECT. The fire of the Alabama did little damage, while that of the Kearsarge was destructive to the last degree. Fora quarter of an hour not man was burt on the Kearsarge, while one shell of that vessel killed and wounded eiginteen | men and disabled oxe gun. When the so-called | Pesatom ship napory me into rate —— tinal earsarge just begun the it, hav ing had three men wounded. one of whom after- ward died of bis injuries. The battle lasted one hour and was fought by the of steam, with their starboard sides sented to each other. Thi a straight line toward shore the Alabama would have escaped into French waters before the Kearsarge could have finished her. Being compelled to fight in circles she was unabie to get under cover. The shells of the eleven-inch guns of the Kearearge c through the sides of the Alabama, explodi in her timbers, tearing her frame in pieces an literally tearing her men by the score into frag- ments, till the decks of the prond pirate were running in streams of blood and the water was tushing in floods through her sides. She tried to escape by one of her sails, but the Kearsarge was Inid across her bow and was ready to rake her fore and aft when a white flag sto} carnage. The Alabama settled by ti raised her bows high in the air asif in the throes of a death struggle, and went down into the depths forever. A PERFECT MODEL OF THE VESSEL. It is a perfect model of the noble vessel that Tid the seas of the Alabama that Maj. W. H. Michael is building on Grand Army place. She will be 19834 feet on the water line by 33 feet beam, and will be bark rigged and ap- pointed the same as the old vessel. Mr. Barker, shipbuilder at the Washi navy yard, laid out the molds, and under his immediate super- vision they will be set up, thus securing a per- fect model of bow, stern and sides. Her cabin Will be elaborately furnished. as hasalready beon said, and it will also be ornamented with silver and bric-a-bi that will be furnished by R. Harris & Co., who also provides the silver for the tables. The illustration at the head of this article ge the appearance of the vessel in full dress. it will be a grand attraction on reunion — and a source of keenest Pleasure to the “old tars,” i eee HIS FORMER WIFE. Remarried After a Separation of Many Years’ Duration. He wandered into the county clerk's office | Yesterday afternoon at 4 o'clock, unkempt, un- | shorn, but with a smile of pleased content upon his face, says the Denver Kepublican. Ina softly modulated voice he asked for a marriage license. Tall, gaunt, his face covered with a twenty years’ growth of hirsute, the marks of travel visible in his appearance, he excited the attention of that always affable official, Deputy | Clerk Prinn. Ashe made out the application | | for Ncense towed the man gave his name as | James A. Cooper and that of his pi tive | bride as Sarah Ann Cooper. The identity of | | the names at once struck the clerk. and he asked | | the would-be Benedict if the parties were re- |lated. “She's my wii replied the man. | “Getting married agein. ‘Been divorced, then?” queried the clerk. | “Yea,” drawled the tall party, with a sly twinkle in his eye. ‘With that characteristic frankness of the avernge southerner he con- tinued: “We married in Pickens county, Alabama, Sarah Ann and I, way back in 1877. We were neighbors for a number of years. She lived in wcaloosa county and I in Pickens, We lived there until we moved to Illinois and afterward ver. In 1864 things didn’t seem to go separated. e went back to Ala- Istayed here, But I kept always thinkin’ of my children. We had three, all girls, and I tried to get ‘em, but it was no go. She got a divorce in 1884 in Alabama andetayed there. About two months ago I went on. and after persuasion and in consideration of our girls, we made it up and all came out to Denver together. We arrived at 11 this morning, will be married again ax soon as I can find a parson, and will spend the remainder of our lives together bringing up our children and tryin’ to get along right.” ‘And the fall Alabamian strode out of the office with a smile of happiness upon his tawny countenance. e+ Written for The Evening Star. Agnaia. ‘There was once, in a time I know not when, A time Elysian, long ago, ‘In this realm of wretched women and men. A maiden more pure than new-fallen snow, ‘And fairer than all things long ago. She was loveller far than the flower of love; Her softer bloom had a soulful glow; And her eyes, more bright than the stars above ‘That light the night of this world of woe, Had a warmer luster, a soulful glow. ‘On her bosom a lily, leas white, she bore, ‘The whitest of all flowers here below; And a rose bud wreathe on her brow she wore, But she loved the white lily more, I trow, ‘The whitest of all lowers here below. ‘remember not when our love was not; ‘The date of its birth I do not knot ‘But the strength thereof I have ne'er forgot, Nor the peace that appeared therefrom to grow, ‘Yet when it was born I do not know. ‘We dwelt in some far-away, radiant clime, ‘Whose flowers were tinged like the seven-hued bow; Aland where the year was perpetual prime, ‘Where only the bulmiest breeze did blow, And whose meads were tinged like the seven- ‘hued bow. ‘The hymns of heaven in dreams we heard, In dreams that did never a change foreshow; Our love was the song of each tuneful bird, And crooning brook in its crystal flow, And naught 4id ever a change foresnow. But over the sunny and giadsome bowers ‘Wherein we abode, drew, dark and slow, A shadow of ill that dimmed the fowers, And terriged bird and brook, and so ‘They were hushed, as the shadow drew, dark and stow. And over the region a chill there passed, And the wind went by with a wailing low; ‘T shuddered in that cold gloom, aghast, And strove with a vague, invisible woe, As the wind went by with a wailing low. T could not see her who alone to me ‘Then slowly the shadow gave place to light, But not os lt was befareah. no! For no more the light of light blessed my sight, And the flowers show ‘Such hues as they wore before—ah, no! As lone on the path of life I walk, And the swift years ever more gloomsome grow, ‘With memory often of her I talk, ‘ ‘Bat the joy that was mine no longer know, And the swift years ever more gioo msome grow. mo wit wetone rich & cleansing Kies, me a And 26) ‘ls, nor pain, rw ‘ ROF pala, Ror woe, “THE BEST HATED MAN IN AFRICA. Dr. Max Schapiro Says Henry M. Stanley is ‘That Gentleman. From the New York Sun. Dr. Max Schapiro of this city has recently re- turned from an extended tour to the southwest coast of Africa, where he was sent as a collector of curios for the Imperial Museum of Natural History at Vienna, The doctor secured the responsible mission because of his familiarity with that portion of the dark continent, he having served for several years as surgeon on the Zulu Bobten of the Woermen line of steamers, plying between Hamburg and St. Paul de Loanda, off the const of Lower Guinea. He had secured fourteen boxes of specimens during one of these trips and presented them to the Imperial Museum, and the officials at once engaged him to make further researches of that vicinity. The doctor went first to Togo, one of the smaller coast states, where he proceeded to in- gratiate himself with the natives by presenti them with beads, brass jewelry and_gayly col. ored petticoats. Having distributed this finery itted to go ‘Another that worked to his advantage was the fact t he was alone and not making his researches with a big guard trailing after him. The na- tives, ignorant as they are, know that one man with liberality the doctor was os the state wherever he Pw Tar Baepes coal valuable : necured man; mene—birds, snakes, wild suimale: geolepienl curios, implements ‘of , ancient and eel ee would be valuablé for the museum. Togo is « German possession and Gen, Puttkammer, a German officer, is its governor. The native soldiers are attired in the regalia of the German my and are faithfully and carefully drilled. Dr. Schapiro says they exhibit a profi interest in military matters that would do credit to many white voldiers. The only German they understand are the commands and they acquire these just as n dog learns the difference between cait ap" and “roll over.” They haves amat- fering of Portoguese, of Spanish and French, but they use their own language among them: selves exclusively. The natives who will not made soldiers fight, when the occasion demands, like guerrillas. “They are brave enough but they prefer to do their battling from ambush. The women of Ashantee battle like tigresses and are feared by the white soldiers as much as the men. From Togo Dr. Schapiro went to Lagos, a port in Dahomey, which Mr. Hoyt has made famous in ‘‘A Texas Steer.” Hi ple are more civilized, but still are just as ready to block any invasions of the white men to the in- terior as they are at Togo. Then down the coast to Fernando Po, a little island but a short distance from the mainland. Here there are a number of whites who carry on a business with ships that touch at the island, ivory, ebony, palm nuts and gum and coffee. The French Catholics have established missi here and are doing much good. They take the little when they are between five and six years old and educate them until sufticient age and int mirnonaries f \ot as powerful are not as or PoFicturin snttaee German pessuniee tos De another , was Dr. Schapiro’s next halt place. Victoria is in Cameroon, of of Guinea. Then * Germans i i i i t & i § gf ie Fever f £ | it not a laudable desire’ the | atern, | be} ds, 1 A TRIP TO EUROPE. IT 18 TO REE THE RUINS OF TRE PAST AXD MEANS MORE THAN A MERE WOLIDAY PXC SION—SOMETHING OF THE SPIRITCAL EUR ONE MAT FEEL. Correspondence of ‘The Fvening Star Horer Barraxxigrs, Arx-es-Parws, August 14, 1892. The question is often asked, both at home | The members were 0 and abroad, why do Americans go to Europe | when their own country is so beautiful, the ‘scenery so varied and the people themselves in the different sections of the country so diverse? The question ie a broad one, but in a general ‘Way the anewer is simple enough. In America we haye few memorials of the past; our history is written for the most part in invisible ink ‘upon the pages of the future, which time only will make legible; whereas in Europe even the blind may stumble over the ruins of a Roman arch and the deaf may walk along the banks of the Avon with the cadences of Shakespeare's verse in his ears. To see tbe- places that havo becn sung by poets, to tread the ground where once they Walked, to reflect upon the tombs of the great, to meet and know the men who are now mak: the histories that our children will read —is To those Americans to whom the names of Scott, Burns, Shake- Milton. Pope, Addison, Steele, and Dickens aro not mere names, mean characters whom they know better than they know their closest friends, better perhaps than they know themselves, it isa source of purity and strength, a never-ceasing fountain of vouth, walk their accustomed paths. j MORE THAN A HOLIDAY EXCURSION. | A trip to Europe is in most cases more than Sholiday excursion, something more than a Badding about to sce what men do, something | more than a great fantast where one | clasps hands with the English, bows to the | French and waltzes with the Germans. A visit | to Europe isa pilgrimage to the land where | freedom was engendered, where arts were born. where culture flourish To smoke a church warden’s pipe and drink Amug of ale in the upper room of the old Cheshire Cheese where Goldsmith and Dr. Johnson used to dine are perhaps commonplace things to do; but one must remember that these men talked like gods while living the common- place daily lives that we do. Shrines are not marked by monuments, aud the guardian ngel of many a boly place is rudely jostied by the buriness of the present day and the wants | of the hour. room where Oliver Gold- | smith died is occupied by a firm of barristers, and the staircase where the outcasts wept the loss of the kind doctor is now trod by the bur- ried feet of solicitors and litigants. The house in Bolt court where Dr. Johnson nursed the sick, protected the needy nd rescued the fallen is now used for mercantile p But in both these places one may still find lessons in charity, instruction in nobility and sermons upon love. ADDISOY AYD GOLDSMITH. Addison is perhaps best known by his beauti- ful paraphrase of the nineteenth psalm and his almost inspired essay upon Westminster Abber. As one by the side of the slab which the low voices of the pilgrims chant the words. “When I look upon tbe tombs of the great and read the epitaphs of the beautiful, some of whom died but yesterday and some 600 years | ago, I consider that great day when we eball all be contemporaries,” while to the mind it seems as if the vaulted roofs re-ecboed the melodies of the nineteenth psalm. 4 simple tomb in Temple Church vard marke the resting place of Oliver Goldsmith, while an elaborate monument in Westminister Abbey, with ponderous Latin by Dr. Johuson, com: memorates his fame. It seems but proper that ‘one who was so sweet and sunny in disposition, | #0 loving and charitable in words and worke, H — by his life and in the sunlight which he | loved. | There is a material Europe and there ina spiritual Europe. One should see and feel both. ne may walk from Stratford to Shottery and on the way discuss the present values of stocks and he will be in the nineteenth century only: or, if be pleases, be may walk from Stratford to Shottery and ‘hear no sound but the singing of the birds, see nothing besides the hedge roses and the hawthorn, and by his wide have the best company in the world —the youthful Shake- hen one walks with the youthful the descriptions of time and space are swept away and the world is young again. The youth does not speak as vet with the clear, Pure accent of the court. and his voice still has somewhat of the Warwickshire tone. He does not talk with the philosophy of Hamlet nor with the wisdom of Macbeth, nor are his words sweet with the fresh air of “As You Like It.” The i impatiently with problems vigorous voice falters not yet learned to utter, vet his words come with and meaning ‘and have the charm of imagery. ‘THE YOUTHFUL SHAKESPEARE. A walk with the youthful Shakespeare is always delightful; but it is particularly amue- ing when he opens his soul to yeu and grows eloquent about his love—Anne Hathaway. If u believe him, as you are almost inclined to 4o, she is the most beautiful, the purest, the wisest of her sex. In her there is no fault at all; she is good and kind and true; she is fection. Ah, Willie! Willie!’ Willie!!! yon are raving over a country maiden. You have not yet been to London. You have not met the Siren with the black hair and the black eyes aud the crafty soul to whom you will write your most wonderful sounets, who will teach you to is and “Antony and Cleopa- roilus and Cressida.” You are en- thusiastic and trustful and young yet, Willie, but we love you, and in after vears when you have reached your highest ambition you will love your own youth: you will leave the gayety Stratford and die a quiet and respectable citi- zen. God bless you, Willie. Is the question answered? reason why A\ not. Per! Is this the nole mericans go to Europe? Terhaps only @ partial answer has been sible. Perhaps only a partial answer is dosir- able. But at all events what has been said with reference to the poets, their haunts and their graves may afford some fain? idea of the wealth of <4 which =, ands nearly every ce in Europe—not only in England, but on 9 continent as well. not yet be One is ted with Europe, yet one | fr Vatingte diene eee —_—_——— § HEF HI to stand beside their ashes and to | and bustle of London; you will come back to | ert given. Perhaps only a partial answer is pos- | marks his tomp in the abbey he can almost bear | | should rest beneath the broad sky, in an air | and bonds or the increase in the value in land, | tonal congress on the subject is there at thie moment, bolding ite second triennial meeting, Under the presidency of Prof. Henry Sidgwick Monday very decorously welcomed by Prof. Erichsen on bebalf of Uni- sermity College, and everything was done to show that the bos was serious, indeed. The list of foreign visitora was headed by what the chairman justly called “the great name of Melmboltr,” and included such men as M. Ruchet and Dr. Liegeais from France, M Graber from Roumania, and Dr. Alexander Bain, who used formerly to dispense the most hard beaded Scotch logic to the youth ef Aber- deen. From men like there it is not natural to ex- pect anything entertaining, nor should we ex- pect it if we were not possessed with the ides that somehow or other e\perimenital jevchol ogy would be brought round to ghosts Three years ago there was something more than = suggestion of them in the proceedings of the congress: and Prof. Sidg wick '® open geve a definition of “experimental, which seemed constructed #0 as to admit them. It te a great thing ina congress to make sour qnalifi- cations strict enough, but not tec strirt This is e0 with regard not only to the persons en- tied to be proseut, but to the subjects entitled to be discussed. ir. Sidgw: aime | at thie golden mean, if bis rendering of was not quite what is understood by if in most branches of science it was permisaibly near 1 that the kind of perchologr the pes Ives tion, very often i mal experien Clearly this stories and aithic 1 an the mething a good deal more im & that bas to do with v tion, thought-transfere pave similar entities, Wh vhen phenomena have been carefully transdated into their equivalents in phase= of that nature, sosence hes got mach further, is a question on which we will not hazard an opinion. Probwhiy the congress would decide in one way the rude world would decide in another. On the first day the congress did net arrive nything ghostly, butit dealt with various matters that are extremely curious. Perhaps the most #o is that which was dealt with br Prof. Gruber under the strange-sounding name of “Colored Au.lition,” and certainly the record is worth notice if only for the evidence it gives pulpal se | | | of the zeal of the modern observer. Every one bas met instances of persons who declare that to them the field of one sense overiaps,20 to ers | *peak, that of another; that differeut noises suggest different c: and so forth, Prof. Graber some years ago set himself te investi- | gate this matier.and his paper at the former congress created #o much interest thet be has gone on with his researches ever since, He de- | clares that he has found in the persons whom | be hae observed a number of mysterious asso- ciations, not only between sounds and colors, but between sight and smell, sound and taste. | sight and taste a | color and temperature. His “subjects” think re red or | that some sounds that some tastes correspond to of mascalar exertion. The whole question here is obvionsly one of the degree to which accurate observation ix | posstbie, how far | Porting his sensations what extent the senaat: | Mr. Gr researches will be published in | extenso, supplemented by auything that Mr. Francis Galton has to tell us. There is Toom, also, for a great deal more information than we already poseesson that subject which | seems to be the favorite one with the songress | and ite visitors, the subject of suggestion. The “School of Nancy,” me it is the fasinon to call the followers of Dr.Téebault, has collected a number of vert extrnondinary | experiences, and some of them werg related yesterday to the pleasurable wonder of the Jaudience. But it was an Englishman, Dr | Bramwell of Goole, who made the most rema able statements. ond he had taken the precas: tion to bring his “subjects” with bing for ex- periment. He went, indeed, curiously near the old per- | formances of the professional amesmerist; but whereas the mesmncrist uses bis power generally for some foolish purpose, Dr. Bram’ woman of short cures « t by’ telling her she can read perfectly and “repeatedly sends pa- tients to a dentist carrying with them » written | order not to feel pain, which they reed when | they sit down in the dentist's chair”—and, we | presume, do not feel pain accordingly. | must be a very valuable power, and everybody must wish that it were a little more widely spread among our doctors. A will Hike Dr. Bramwell’s seems to possess the qualities of ether, laughing gus and bromide combined. At the beginuing it may have been «ny | that Prof. Lombroso, in his paper on “The | Sensibility of Women,” was going t prove himself singularly ungallant. To assert that women have lews sensibility than men seems to attack one of the oldest and best establied privileges of the sex, and to destroy one of ite chief claims on man's consideration, But though Prof. Lombroso expresses the fact in | the words “in sensibility pain there ee marked inferiority in women,” what he means iw that in resistance to pain Woman is marke:lly perior. Everybody knows that a honsemaid can easily hold 4 plate so hot that the footman instantly; and Signor Mela says in the dentist's hands much more frequently than women. Indeed, if men had to bear the pain that is the lot of women, the human race would very soon come to an end. Prof. Lombroso is eloquent on the way in which men increase that pain + and tyranny; but again be compromises huis repu- | tation for gallantry by « of woman's “greater irritability and the louder expression she gives to her suffering.” A man knows he must not weep, and does not: & woman knows thatshe may, and often ought. “In her case cou is not demanded, but grace; she knows how werful are her tears: she tries to weep with policy, to weep much and to weep at the right time.” If the reader of Prof. Lomibroso’s paper would ouly do today what Dr. Bramwell is announced to do, and make illustrative ex- periments, the success of the psyebologieal com gress would be assured. —S LAID DOWN A STRAIGHT FLCeH, A Poker Player Who Got Kattled end Let Four Aces Wie. Over a gume of “draw,” where « Minneap- clis Tribune man was a spectator the other night, man told story which caps the cli- max. He had losta big pot on an invincible, and the other fellow didn't have « gun, either. It occurred in this way, as be told it) “You see,” raid he, “I was a young fellow who got tangled up in poker with « lot of boys who could manipulate the cards, and I knew it, but I relied on my luck to pull me ont even in the end. At last my time came. One of the best Of the sharks was doling in a dvesunded game, and it was my ‘age.’ As I picked up hand after the curds had been dealt | @iseor- the king, queen, ten and sees ret men behind me out in euccemon, and T said to myself, “That's Just my I dealer stayed, and Lof course raise, and asked cards IT wanted. I told him to nned hie han began aud it continued until my mo: ! faced with « plaiting of 5 Another gown orned” by the same fortune te woman is of heliotrope Bedford and made absolutely plain, save for a fine line of silver | nnry al around the trailing skirt aud 7) ie “yo [Rea te trout with's fal vst blouse at ssid rdend q H ake od Gag 5 etter ra hich whet ‘of escond ‘mourning & season other whe Saw women ae in and there was of necessity »cnll. § asked ‘our meee. cist for and the win- wid “It's good, devk, It touched the recalled my foal. a bite whet I baa, the firet time +d simpy be- bby four cause luve never held a expect to. The treet em right deserve to get em.”