Evening Star Newspaper, October 8, 1892, Page 11

— | FASHIONS FOR FALL. It is Said That the Street Sweeping Train is to Be Discarded, VISIONS OF NEW GOWNS. Whe Ever-Popular Tailor-Made Dresses for Dinners, Luncheons and Receptions—The Russian Jacket and the Pelerine, Bpertal Correspondence of The Rvening Star Youx, October 7, 1892. ASHIONS ARE AS changeable as a woman's fanctes, say the men, but they were never more mistaken. Probably, {f a woman had the making of the fashions they might be « bit more unstable than they are, but, as it is, fashions are very much like physician's remedic which are never taken by the prescriber. A few years ago a celebrated French actress startled Paris by the beauty of her gowns and the world gave her the credit of having designed them, but the creations of her brother- Inlew, « well-known artist. Designing a gown fe very much Like painting a picture, only your colors are laid on dry. When Beau Brummel bad created a new waistcoat he felt as if he bad con ® now world. are fashions half - ioapeat the men allege them to be. Take the gored skirt, for instance: it has been | with us now for several years, and the Russian came « year ago, is still in high favor, both asa mantls and a'bodice. These charming bodices are usually of diiferent ma- terial from tho skirt. In one cnseIsaw o very pretty gown fora young lady. the skirt Deing in black and pale yeliow silk and the Diouse bodice in mastic cloth and black velvet, and the broad belt of the striped sills. . VISIONS OF XEW GOWNS. With the deepening of the autumn foliage the fashionable woman never fails to have vis- fons of coming styles. To some these new | gowns may continue to be the substantial fab- | rice of a vision, rather than the beautiful stuffs thrown off by the art looms, yet when » wo- man wants anything she generally gets it, and eo I may assume that the reader is only waiting suneel before venturing among the shoals and edities of the whirl of fashion. Foul- ards, stamped with large flowers, set apparently on the material without any regularity, are to be much used for indoor dresses. In making these foulards it is customary to ornament the bottom of the skirt with an insertion of white ipure, headed with a little ruche of the stuff. Fae corsage is pleated in front, gathered at -ho neck and set off with a lace insertion outlining the corselet. The elbow aleeve is of change- able velvet and is puffed as much as possible at the shoulder. The initial illustration presents a back view of « house gown in ecru crepon, the skirt being trimmed with two insertions of ecru lace ran with manve ribbons. The corsage has -lace braces and cascades of lace. The belt consists of four mauye ribbons starting in front and ending at the back with bows and long ends Lace garniture will continue to be very popa- Jnr for indoor gowns,not only as just deseribed, but also in the shape of tiny figaros and broad truth was they were the | front at this season of the year in widely differ- ent styles, sometimes with no basques at all, and then again with deep jacket basques cover- ing the hij just in front. The dress- coat style ot bodine with the tails varying to suit the particular kind of figure, will be seen on those who delight in manish’ make- RECEPTION GowN. doubt that the military (opal Lewras very popular, except possibly for figures whic need bullding oat I the military’ plastron fe should be of lighter cloth, corded d laid outside the bodice. ‘The color | of the plastron is quite a matter of taste. It may be either red, fawn or Prussian blue or white, and in velvet or silk instead of the wool- | eB material. Assome one hes eaid, the ml tary plastron may serve to cover up a legion of imperfections, that is to say, conceal a badly fitting front or hide the worn places of « last year's garment. WINTER LUXCHEONS. This winter ladies who take pleasure in enter- taining will dispense their hospitality in the guise of luncheons, which have this advantage, that they serve to display the beauty of table linen and service quite as effectually as a core- monfous dinner, but don't cost half as mach and are a great deal more enjoyable. Asa rale at these luncheons the gentlemen are conspicu- ous by their absence—a fact which prompts the hostess to make the effair dainty, delicate | and particularly feminine, an arrangement in pink or a symphony in’ palo blue. Gowns should harmonize, at least in the exclusion of all glaring tones and striking effects, collars, as shown in the second picture. This garment, which is in the nature of a tea or re- ception gown, is in yellow satin, front and sleeves of white crepe and ribbon ruching to © with the satin. |The skirt in front i» edged with a double flounce of point d'esprit tulle, and the corsage is set off with a deep col- lar of cream lace. The ing movies this fall and winter will undoubtedly continue to draw inspiration from the early and inte French epochs. For young Girls nothing could be more becoming than the empire gown somewhat modified to suit modern jon. For older persons the Henry II col- larette, plastron and upper sleeves in four Puffs. will be much affected. ‘The very stylish dinner gown pictured in the third illustration is in beige cloth, the corsage border of skict being embroidered with n terra cotta. A lace bertha is crossed 1 drawn over the hips and tied in a tthe back. of street wear skirts are no longer made with trains, the skirts cf all walking dresses barely touching the ground. The plain, close- fitting skirt remains undisturbed in its’ popu- larity, the only trimming being on the edge. » still talked of. butseem no nearer ver. It is, however, pre- le will got here before the dra- Velvet sleeves are cut in one piece and | } yertes bo seamed as to fit close below the elbow. The. DINNRA cows. ‘Meh, round empire sieeve willl be seen tn ball dresses, expectally when worn by young people. ‘The high sash belt in several folds is now usa- ally male up as part of the corsage of the dress, LUNCHEON GOWN, ‘You will find in my last picture a gown suita- ble for euch an occasion in striped veiling, the skirt being finished with a raching and the cor- sage ornamented with a deep lace collar not forming a part of the dress, and draped in the manner indicated.” The straight col- is also covered with lace. A broad ribbon ‘ash completes the dress. The wide empire belt will be among the next season’s.novelties. It is usually of gold embroidery and the deep, tight-fitting cuffs are of the same material, meeting the very full upper sleeves at the elbow. AN OPEN WINTER. The weather prophets assure us that all signs point to an open winter, and it may be that fur garments will not be called into requisition, at least until after the holidays. For weather of ordinary severity the long Russian jacket will 10 doubt be greatly in vogue. It is made either ‘with daring ‘or tera-dowe collar und i some: what shaped to the re. Jt is double breasted and has very attons covered with the material. T! jussian jacket is more stylish than the reefer, so popular last winter. With itwill be worn the jaunty tourist's hat in French felt, trimmed with ribbon and set off with one or two rakish quills, making up a very fetehing outdoor costume. ‘THE PELERINE. The ever-popular pelerines come in well for triple and also in one piece, falling in graceful fold» from the collar. The double form is usually made with a yoke which is pointed at the back and is trimmed with velvet. The ma- terfel fe cloth and the modish tonse royal bine and gray. These little garments have a great Gel cf style about thon when trimmed oil cord or gallon. The ordinary cape is now made with an under part which fastens nearly the whole way down and thus renders this style of garment much more satisfactory for cold weather. This additional under part may be of & material in a different shade, thus increasing the attractiveness of the cape, which should be so cut as to hang straight around the arms in order not to increase the width of the figure. A very pretty combination for one of these gar- ments is cinnamon brown cloth with dark brown plush for the under part, or velvet may be sub- stituted for the plush. 02 Written for The Evening Star. Farewell! Farewell! ‘The word, tho’ seemeth light, Conveys a sadness and a bitght. In parting from our friends 'tis told, ‘When aching hearts appear $0 cold. Pareweil! A mother bending o'er hor child, Takes final gaze on features mild; And with broken-hearted aigh, ‘Wipes the teardrop from her eye. Farewell! Asailor, on asea-bound trip, ‘Takes a last look while boarding ship. ‘The eve grows dim, the heart is sad, ‘Waat ts there left to make him glad? Parewellt A soldier tn his mother’s arma, ‘Stil clings to life's most blissful charms. ‘The drum has sounded for the call— And yet he cannot lave his all. Farewell! ‘The lover, with an aching heart, Has told Ris loved one they must part; ‘What pen can this deep sorrow tell, ‘When all earth's hope from heaven fell. Farewell ‘Take courage in its mmple worth, And change the teardrop to a spark of mirth. Think pleasantly, wheu we from friends depart, And say, adieu! with ever hopeful heart! there being only small extension to fasten over on the left ide. FASHIONABLE FOOTOEAR. Nowadays our ladies of fashion spond so Much money on their footgear that they seem te have resolved that ali this neatnes: and ele- gence shall not be lost to the world. and con- im dis- ving the absolute perfection of ft and make thy Kelemen fashionable footgear. Washington, D.C. ~ —GEnteupz Nortox. pci a PRR eee Life's Patent Opera Glass. Lite. October wear. They are made both double and | famil; THE PRIZE PROBLEM. by the Servant Question, DOMESTIO INSURRECTIONS. ‘Woman's Eventful Six Weeks’ Experience—Whtte and Colored Help at the Nation's Capital—The Queens of the Kitchen and Nursery. Written for The Evening Star. HEN ONE'S WHOLE interest in existence is centered upon one topic there is no use in trying to talk upon any other, and soit happens that, contrary to my desire and intention, I am going to add my tale of woe to the buge volume compiled by other housewives with the hope that some of those who chance to be at this moment engaged in a hand-to-hand con- flict with domestic insurrection below stairs may be ina measure consoled by hearing how much greater have been my trials than theirs. In this instance, quite appropriately, the | servant problem isa serious one all over the country, but in the way of a regular double- twisted tae fave problem of that kind Washington is just a little in the lead of every other city on the continent. In other cities the difficulty is divided among the racos of the earth; English and Irish, French and German, American and Swede, each, sooner or later, has a spoon in the broth and even the China- man has bis inning. Buthere in Washington we don’t make such nice distinctions. It is simply colored and white—mostly colored. There is an ideal darkey servant we all have in mind, but rarely get into our kitchens. As a general thing the ‘culled Indies and gentle- men” who condescend to abide with us fora cor tion have all the incompetence and arrogance of their foreign brethren with a few native vices added. The trouble is, as one of the most intelligent and faithful’ of colored servants once said to me, “Dis yer city is jos’ chuck full o’ lazy, no account niggahs that doan want to do nothin’ but set an’ look at de Capitol and treasury and ‘flect what a mighty fine thing it is to live in Washington.” A SIX WEEKS’ EXPERIENCE. My experience with this class began six weeks ago, when the cook that had long been the apple of our eyes having fallen in love completed her period of usefulnoss in the family. The first experiment was named Mary. She could neither cook nor do any other manner of work known to civilization, but she was harmless except that her densestupidity hada tendency to inflame the passions of the family to the pitch of murder, or at least personal violence, and 60 to keep out of the police courts we accepted her resignation before the end of the week. Then I tried Ida. Ida detailed to me the proper way in which housework should be done and incidentally gave me some valuable hints as tothe best method of removing accumulated se from pots, kettles and other utensils. re was no doubt but that she knew how to work, but some way she failed to put her knowl- edge in practice and soon developed alarming symptoms of mental unsoundness. Conceiving a desire for a certain pudding one day, I ven tured down to ask her if she could do anything with a recipe. “I don't never have nothin’ to do with any receipt books,” she remarked scornfully. ‘My cookin’ is all brain work.” And brain-work cooking being too etherial for us she had to go. LOUISE AND HER ‘‘BOOM-DE-AYE.”” The next was Louise, who had a distressingly civil habit of separating my conversation into clauses of two and three words by a running fire of ‘‘yessum,” She was a pretty good cook, but dirty beyond any attempt at description. However, we worried along until one night, somfie friends having come in for their first in- formal call, there rose to the library such a din that we all jumped. My first thought was that some of our colored neighbors in the alley were having a charivari. It kept up until eyes be- gan to rove and conversation became disjointed, until embarrassment and nervousness were #0 visible in me that I could do nothing but mum- ble some sort of apology and retire to investi- gate. As I descended to the kitchen the racket grew louder, and when I opened the door there at 9:30 o'clock, with not a dish washed, was my Lady Louise, singing “‘Boom-de-aye” and kick- ing ap her heels among the pots and skillet. laggie was then en d although she made it a point to do exactly contrary to what she was told, a family counci’ decided that in view of the fact that enzampment week and a houseful of company were approaching, it would be better to endure the evil we had than to fly to one we knew not of. Under her re- gime, however, the larder was in the chronic condition of Old Mother Hubbard's cupboard, in spite of the fact that my marketing allow- ance was laid ont with a lavishness never before equaled. I had to dismiss her. IN THE NURSERY. Abont this time, to make life still sweeter, it became desirable to make a change of nurse, and tothat endI sont for my former trusty cook, who, came of | respectable Virginia to inquire if she might not have some who would bea reliable nurse. After deep reflection she said she didn’t know of any- one unless, perhaps, her grandmother would ‘uggestion not being received with enthusiasm she proceeded to descant upon the entire untrustworthiness of nurses in general, and, as was her habit, pointed her remarks with an impressive illustration. ¥, I know of a nurso,” she said seriously, “and they used to put something in the bab} wash water, and the nurse let the baby drink some of itand it killed it. Yes, mam, it Jes" died. And now the lady says she wouldn't recommend that nurse no way. : An experienced aunt was finally suggested and engaged, and now Betty and the baby run the family to suit themselves, for Betty speed. ily ingratiated herself so securely into the boy's affections and is so good to him that his doting parents are perristently blind and deaf to any shortcomings in other directions. “DISENCOURAGED. By this time, to use Betty's expression, I had become pretty “‘disencouraged,” and decided to try a “settled white woman.” This was , and she was so entirely “settled” no attempt whatever to keep e with her work. ‘Tuesday afternoon, very ttle headway having been made with the iron- ing, I thought I would help matters along by reparing the vegetables and making a dessert Tordinnet. Requiring some strips of bacon for seasoning purposes I requested Mary to get it for me from the store room. Nota move. Trusting she had not heard I repeatell my request a littlelouder. ‘Then she spoke. m not used, mum, to havin’ «uch messin’ on ironin’ day. ‘Where I have lived they a ways has a roast or br'iled steak or the like and Ican’t put up wid no mossin’.” Needless to say my wrath was at boiling point, but con- trolling my voice as well as possible I said, quietly: “You will get me the bacon, Mary.” “Indade Til not,” shaking a towel out viciously,‘* til! I finishes me work. If yez wants the bacon get it yourself.” How I longed to fell her to the earth. In- stead I said: “*You will get the bacon at once or leave the house. Understand, I am mistress here and I allow no one to dictate to me what I shall cook on ironing day or any other day.” “Very well, mum. and that’s the raison ye can never kapea girl. You're known all over Wash- ington. ‘And she went. It is very soothing to reflect, h, that on the principle that it is better to make a bad impression than no impression at all, Icut amore prominent figure in Wash- ington than I bad dreamed. THE FUNERAL DODGE. The next day I took in another damsel whose name I have forgotten and Thursday morning she announced that she was obliged to gd to all How Housewives Are Handicapped waffles crisp Cautioning her not to wait until after our late breakfast to 4 once the rit of superstition will permit cannot guess, In the meantime we are feasting and making merry. OapitoLa CONVERSE. es ‘Written for The Evening Star. TRIP TO A HERONRY, With the Blue Heron in His Isolated Breed- Ground. wr IS THERE ACCUSTOMED TO walking near streams or marshes that has not occasionally startled a large bluish-gray bird from some favored retreat, seen him spring into the air with harsh ‘‘q-u-e-a-ck,” take a reef in his long neck and, with legs straightened out behind, fly rapidly out of harm’s reach to more secluded quarters? Such is the great blue heron, or blue crane, as he is more commonly called, a bird so wild, so wary and so cunning that it is one of the most difficult of all birds to approach, even within rifle shot, to say nothing of a closer inspection for observation. If one wishes to study this wader the best possible Place to go is to the breeding grounds. Now, to the casual obsorver the general apposrance and structure of the bird would indicate » ground breeder, but here again is where ap- Pearances are sadly deceiving, for the tops of the tallest trees are chosen, usually in some isolated swamp, and here the birds congregate in immense numbers to breed in company. A VISIT TO A HERONRY is an event of unusual interest. It is one of the wildest, most weird and fascinating trips that one can take. and while attended with no small amount of hardship and exposure, I never heard any one regret having made the venture. Unfortunately there is no heronry in the imme- diate vicinity of Washington known to the writer, although the birds themselves are not uncommon. One of the largest rookeries in the enst is at Great Bay swamp, situated on the northwestern shore of Oneida lake, in Oneida county, N. Y., and from time immemorable it hae been the breeding ground of thousands of these herons. Having our enthusiasm fired by vivid accounts of the place by persons who had made the trip, with a bird-loving companion I decided undertake to visit it. ‘There was no tramping through ewamp and HARD WORK. The great blue heron breeds in early April, and begins to nest long before the ice is gone from the lake and while the spring floods are at high water mark. Asa consequence we went prepared for rough work, and we got it. Lenv- ing the little village of Brewerton in row boat we pulled up the lakein the facoof a biting east wind, and rounding Dry Land point, made for the opposite shore of the bay. Once there the work began, and for the next twenty-four hours it was one continual round of exertion and en- durance. Our only directions had been to| “follow an old road which we would find just after passing the shanty,” which last was readily found, then for two hours we sought an entrance the swamp by first one blin and then another. water was from three to seven fect deep over the swamp, filled with floating ice, logs and brush, and when at length the right road was found it was so choked with the stuff that it was next to impossible to make headway, We were encouraged in our efforts, however, by the glimpse of an occasional heron flying overhead in the direction we supposed the heronry to be. At length, when ‘one carry- = a slender branch in ite over, we felt assured that we were going in the right di- rection, and after over an hour's pulling and shunting about inthe ice and drift we struck the ridge of which we had been told and once more stood on dry land, IN THE MIDST OF THE HEROXS. Herons could now be seen flying in every di- rection, and in the surrounding flat were gath- ering sticks for nest building. After a thor- ough rest we pushed off into the swamp once more, following no road but winding about among the trees and logs, and ina few minutes were in the midst of the heronry. And what a sight! Tall tammarack trees standing closely to- gether, containing from one to three nests each; it bundles of sticks the size of a bushel bas- cot; the trees in white with the droppings of the birds; herons perched about or. flying from place, ‘‘quaking” with alarm at the invaders, while others watched from a safe distance, wel knowing from experience of former years what the invasion meant. We had come for eggs as well as birds, so strapping on the climbers I as- cended the nearest tree containing theso neste. AySTRANGE SIGHT. Whata sight it was! In every direction acres and acres of ‘nests that lent a grayish aspect to the whole swamp. It would be no exaggeration to say that three thousand nests, more or loss, were visible from where I sat. Herons were perched on hundreds of the trees, while the number flying about were innumerable. I told my companion to fire his gun, and at the re- port pandemonium reigned supreme. | With joud cries thousands of herons arose in the air and circled overhead; rapidly rising in the air out of gunshot, but never leaving the breeding ground. What a majestic sight it was to seo this vast host of stately birds sail- ing overhead, how gracefully they turned and twisted as they passed and repassed over their homes and how watchful and wary lest they came within reach of the guns concealed be- low. At length, one alittle more daring than the rest received a good dose of No. 8 and wns ours. Itis an easy bird to killand easy to hit und we secured nine splendid specimens and a market basket fall of eggs, frequently getting ‘as many as twelve from one tree. nests contained sets from three up to_six, four being the usual complement. None of the trees seen br us contained more than three nests and when ri contained a full set the climb was well Te] ‘THE RETURN JOURNEY. A cold, drizzling rain set in just as wo started to return, increasing the discomfiture, added to which we could not find the rond and headed in | blind manner for the lake. Progress at | length became impossible and we both had to get cut of the boat in the icy water and pull and haul the boat over and around fallen the water frequently up to our waists. Whew! it was cold and when at length we struck the we were #0 oxhausted that we could scarcely stand. A stiff breeze blew from the J east, and aided byit we finally landed at the | wharf and staggered rather than walked friendly warmth of the stove. IN FLORIDA. I i io HE I x ? ee i i Fi e i | i U THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D. C. SATURDAY. OCTOBER 8, 1892-SIXTEEN PAGES. UTE LEGEND. ‘Written exclusively for The Evening Star. ° —— CENTURIES AGO WAS THE TIME. Tocks seemed blended in one great shadow, no form of life was visible but the birds, the grasshoppers and crickets, or perhaps the sly coyote trotting hero and there, or the shining trout in the creek at their fect. Several miles ‘away could be seen the smoke from the wick- Toolooloosa tham live longer with People,” thought the unhappy Weno- ‘She resolved to save hor lover or die for Jong after mini bad these sene. him, i-up fires, bat « friendly mountain hid the | *! camp's ocoupants, All alone they could talk | the of themselves, their mutual love—and in words ss melodious as those in which Hiawatha spoke of Minnehaha calling her his “sunlight, moon light, starlight,—the firelight of his people,” #0 Toolooloosa talked to Wenosene, ina language ‘unknown to us, but dear to its people. ‘Come, my wee one—my little bird, come with Too- looloosa, who loves you, We will steal away from Pagoa, the great chief, your father, and then my horse ‘War Eagle’ in two sloep’s hard riding will carry us to my home in the south. Love and joy are there—come, rhy little rabbit, come.” She looked up to him—lovely Wenosene— with tears in her great black eyes, and shook her head. “‘Toolooloosa—Toolooloosa. I shall die without you, but I cannot go or they will kill us. Even now Sireich the Dog has seen the love signs, Oh! my Toolooloosa, go and Te Go today or it will be too late. : “Lam Tooloo- conquer where others fail I love only you and shall take you away as a gem to wear near my heart. I will send for five young sguaws and five strong braves to give the chief; your father, for you. They will bring twenty ponies, and baskets of willow and dishes of clay. Rather than gi up my Wenosene I would give all my tribe owns in horses and lands, Rather than leave my dove I would be prisoner in her cage.” for a moment she stood by him, her whole heart revealed by her love-lit eyes; thon with sob of Joy she sprang to his open arms and ith embraces and terms of endearment they talked of their love and their future. They had thoughts only for each other, so that the habit of watching and listening had been well nigh forgotten and only the little gray hawk aloft inthe air sawafigurp creep from sage behind the roc lovers, No danger was dreamed of till an “Ugh!” caus girl to start with a scream from her lover's arms and both to turn toward the speaker. There stood the old medicine man, Sireich the Dog. As they gazed, unable to speak, he slowly dropped his blanket, Great Spirit, prb- tector of all Indians, care for Toolooloosa and Wouosene! Sireich was in war paint. From his tightly platted hair to his waist and from knee to ankle the perféctly nnde skin was the background for figures painted in most hide- ous color On his chest wasa crude representation of Wenosene with an arrow through her heart. Below it was Toolooloosa the Fire brand tied in the center of a blazing pile of pitch pine. Too well they knew what was meant. ‘Too- looloosa had been sent with a truce from the hated southern tribe. He had dared to love Wenosone the Fairbody, the belle of the North- ern Utes, and death by fire was to be the pun- ishment, Sireich spoke no word. but motioned Tooloo- = ipl png Sop Forages edge loose to walk before. and Wenosene to. follow plsheon he aad se m *¢-| him. Up the canyon past the falls, over the rocks down a hill, crossing a small plateau, and the wick-i-ups were reached. The old squaws were busy preparing the evening meal. The chiefs and braves were or playing with understood tho lying around teasing the do; the toddling papooses. Al meaning of the procession. Pagoa motioned Sireich to take Toolooloosa to the prisoner's wick-i-up, Five braves rose and followed. They wore placed as guards over him. Several old squaws roughly caught Wenosene by the arms and hair and half drag- ging her to her wick-i-up removed the Yovely dress of white buckskin, her beaded mocca- tins, her belt of silver, necklace and bracelets, and then they cut her long, beautiful hair. An old dirty garment was givon her, but her feet were left uncovered. A council fire was built. The men removed all their clothing but the loin cloth, and donned their war paint, Before the council Dogan there was a slow, sollomn dance around the fire with no music but the “Ah! Ah! Ugh! Ah! Ah! Ugh!” that marked the dancing t For an hour this lasted, thea when twilight had faded into the isck of ‘night and the moon was peeping over the snow-clad peaks of Rockies the dancers sat down. The silence was unbroken till Pagoa began speaking. His talk was brief, but it explained ‘Toolooloosa the Firebrand, a chief in the hated Southern Ute tribe, had come with five braves and fifteen ponies to try and make ce between the two tribes. They had given im food and drink, their daughter: waited on him. the chiottain’s pipes had been freely offered him, Now he repaid their kind- pews by daring to love and attempting to carry away Wenoseno the Fairbody. He must die. But how? At the end of his speech all agreed with him that Toolooloosa must die, Death by fire was suggested, but he had come in pease, so by Indian law he must return in safety. His five young braves and all but one of the horses they ad brought must remain as a pledge that Toolooloosa would return and fight. His bows and arrows would be returned to him and the blankets he needed for clothing, This was the final decision, so Toolooloosa was brought from the wick-i-up and told the arrangement. He answered in words becoming to one of his brave race: *Toolooloosa the Firebrand loves fight. All he asks that the Uncompahgres fight fairly and give up ,Wenosene if Toolooloosa wins the battle. Toolooloosa take one horse and one bow and quiver of arrows. When the twittering birds gave warning of coming day the Indians again led forth Tooi00- loose, ‘They mounted him on his strong “War Eagle” and placed in his hands his bow and arrows, | Poor Wenosene, from an uplifted corner of her wick-i-up cover, saw him raise his band to the great spirit land and wave it toward the spot where she lay, then he was of like the wind, With a cry'from a broken heart she threw herself face downward on the pile of deerskins in the corner. For two days nothing could rouse Wenosene. The kicks and cuffs of the women watchers, the taunts of the young squaws and braves who passed her wick-i-up, were all unanswered, seemingly unfelt or unheard. Food and water refused. Life seemod almost extinct, brush to the protecting pine branches, then | f ‘So cautions was she that not evei dog challenged ber. a happen to open she tightened her belt and over the prairic bill eee eee ren reached the stream, the besatiful Clear creek, 6 not seen since that day that her loverjhad told her his hopes and plans. She looked for the tiny canoe that she had left there in the old happy Tt was gone. She was not to be daunted. Far lived Perquinump, nd one was always in the water near -up, Stumbling over rocks so shi that ere sto bar jeedin, tl face and bands, found. She sprang in, caught the paddie, and pushed it out in the stream. ‘The current was §0 strong and the water rushing 80 fast that the distance she had ran was covered in as many minutes as the walk had taken hours. Already the east was growing gray. Would she be too late? The battle was to be just when the sun was well above the mountains. She bent herself to the paddle and the canoe cut the water like an arrow. She would reach her lover in time to prevent him entering the for. Hark! what was that sound? That rushing and roaring that grew more distinct each moment! Oh! the falls, the falls! She had tood just below them that day she promised her lie to Toolooloosa. She pulled her boat near the bank and decided she would land on the side where the Southern Utes had made their camp and run the remaining distance that still separated them. While she hesitated, the sun—as if reproving her slowness—burst with red, angry light over the mountain tops. As if that had been the signal for the march, the Southern Utes, already in line for battlo, advanced to the ford. Wenoseno hesitated no longer, but, with a prayor to the Great Spirit, pushed her canoe into the deep water above the falls. | Her eyes were fastened on her lover, who was leadin his braves, Would she reach him? She called, “Wait, wait for Wenosene. Listen; your bird tells you to wait,” but the rushing waters drowned the sweet voice. Bee! he advances, ho has stepped to the ford; she is too late! No; he bas sen her and stops. Sho can yet save him! Her canoe has almost reached the edge of the falls, Hark! that sound—a singing, whirring, buzzing sound that is made only by arrows cleaving the air. | A scream o} nosene!” from the lips of | Toolooloosa aitd ho falls pierced by a score of the poisoned points, And Wenosene? In the middle of the stream, just at the edge of the falls, partially extend. ing over them,as if to shoot down to the rapids | below, still sits Wenosene, an image in stone in a canoe of solid rock. Her mouth is slightly open to call; she is bending forward with up- Lifted paddle to send the boat over the falls, Here she will remain till the rushing waters of Clear creek will have destroyed all the image of canoe and the maiden occupant. * This legend was told me by an old Indian of the Southern Ute tribe. He showed the old ford, the place whore the lovers bad stood when the medicine man had found them, the rocks behind which the treacherous Uncom- pahgres lay in ambush. As a proof of ail his tale he pointed to the image of the Uncompan- gre maiden in the middie of Clear creek. Loa B. McIxryne, SHMEN DO NOT Go. WHERE ENGL' Shakespeare's Home at Stratford Not on . Their List of Familiars. From the New York Tribune. “I suppose,” said an English woman to two American travelers on the deck of one of the big transatlantic steamers, “that you intend to visit Shakespeare's birthplace?” “Oh, yes,” was the answer, “we shall go to Stratford by all means. You have been there, ofcourse?” “No, I never have been. Very fow Eng- lish people go there, but it is a great resort for Americans.” “Why is it that English people take so little interest, comparatively, in the town which pro- duced so great a genius? “Well, I cannot account for it, except possi- bly on the theory that one is never so likely to visit what is always in one's reach as are those who go toastrange country with the special object of sightseeing. Why. on this very steamer Ihave met an American who told me that, although his home is close to New York, he has never visited your Metropolitan Museum of Art in Central Park except once, while he has been a number of times to the British Mu- seum and repeatedly to the Louvre. Now, I fancy if he lived » few hundred miles from jew York, and occasionally went there to ‘sec the sights,” he would have a much more inti- mate kno of the museum than he has now, when within his reach every day, or at least every wegk.” ‘en later the two Americans were on their way to Stratford-upon-Avon on a pleas ant Saturday afternoon. In the same com- partment with them for the last fow miles were two young Englishmen, with whom they fell in conversation, and who afforded singular of their fellow-passenger's assertion that En- glish people do not visit Shakespeare's birth- place in large numbers. One of them left the train at the station next to Stratford, and then tho other informed the Americans that he him- self had lived in Stratford all his life and had never seen the inside of the house in which the t post was born until inst year, when he ‘one there with a friend who chanced to be visitiog him and who ox & desire to see spot of such interest, and he further said that his friend who had just left tho train had always lived within three or four miles of Strat- ford and had never visited Shakespeare's birth- place in his life. ‘The small boy of Stratford may not hare so- personality and w mighty dramatist, but he is much in evi- in his desire to show strangers about the old squaws touched their foreheads lightly, saying, “All gone, all gone,” then pointed the graveyard beyond, saying, ‘Very soon now she almost dead they y after Toolooloosa had gone she heard an old Indian as he passed her door say, “Today Firebrand starts with his men.” Ah! he was coming back! She mast be strong for his sake, so that night when all were asleep she cautiously crept from under her wick-i-u] nd found foodand drink. A cake of bre to the | men alii ifr ERE place. In his ability to ler intent on seeing all Stratford he st ecohe ncen eer a tis worth seeing in the marvelously acute fully his equal, but his demands are versed in a quiet tone that does not jar upon the ear like the rasping voice of the average streeturchin inthe American metropolis. At first ho asks « aix- pence for pointing out the birth; church, the theater and other objects of est, but when told that his quired he will calmly reduce to three; or in the last He does not incline to anger if is repulsed, but a) tobe hurt fater- her. | chat his offer tn not duly appreciated reapect—but in ‘no ford suggesta an American town, since nowhere else on the main lines of travel in England are services of one sort or another so persistently forced upon new comers. nneenons travelers a ——ro—___ She Was Doing Her Share, From the Detroit Free Press. ‘The young physician was tired when he turned from his evening's callls, but as he tled back in his easy chair and his pretty $3 FS of only # month or two took « seat beside asked 7 “And has my little wife been lonely?” “Ob, Be,” she said, en out of sight of any keen eye that might | ™ {| he seized his gun and started for ABOUT THE TIGER. The Home and Habits of This Ferecious Antmal, THE COUSIN OF THE LION—TRE RAVAGES OF THE TIGER IX IXDIA—STORIEG OF EITRERE COURAGE AND COWARDICE, [BEBE IS ONLY ONE SPECTRS OF TIGER Properly so called, although there are quites. number of tigerine cats, but the royal tiger (Felis ) taylors known to the ancients as it was in the vicinity of the Tigris river,and bence the name “tigris,” which occurs in the earliest Greck and Latin writings when referring to this animal, and “Hyreania,” with which it isso i interesting to turn back and note at they said about them more than 2,000 ‘The tiger,” writes Pliny (Nat. Hist, vitt, = ny Ms oduced in Hyrc up the stream | {Be whom she knew had several ROMAN RXBIBITIONS. But most interesting are his descriptions of the manner in which the beast was exhibited in Rome in his time, in which he gives as full evi- dence that he knew the difference between tt and leopards and panthers, After mentioning the last two and referring to an ancient decree f the eenate that African beasts should not be poe ee — vm the tribune, ee caused a plebiscitum to be passed mitted ‘thelr importation for the "Ciroensian games, he gives the numbers first brought by Scaurus, and then by Pompey the Great and — ~s, ie Augustus was the first to show to the public a tame ti “tigrin™) in a den at Rome; this waa done br ‘bln ring the dedication of the theater of Marcellus, while Q. Tubero and Fabius Maximus were con suls;also that late the Emperor Claudius showed four together. The Emperor Philip on one occa- sion exhibited ten tigers,together with thirty-two lephants, ten, moose, sixty lions, thirty leopards, ‘ten hyenas, ‘one hij tamus, one rhinoceros, forty wild horses, twenty wild asee and numbers of deer, goats, antelopes and other beasts. This brutal exhibition was crowned by the mortal combat of 2,000 gladiators! Gordian IIT also showed ten tigers and they were present in the shows of Antoninus and Elagabalus, Aurelian in his triumph over Zenobia exhibited four splendid animals. The Latin poets abound with allusions to the tigris, which in most all instances refer to the royal tiger only, and this supple, savage beast serves them well. WHERE HE AROUXDS, The tigor is met with in Asia alone; it is not found in Africa or the new worl ever found west of the Indus, but in the vast deserts which separate China from Siberia, as far north as the banks of the Obi, and the Amoor, larger stance,) it is common: but Hindoostan headquarters of and there it rej as it may teem, | are those taken'in the northern parte of China, on and about the Amoor river, wi a boreal winter prevails seven months of every year. The idea of an animal which is confined | to the tropical jungles of India, where heat and moisture prevail all through the year; the idea | of finding examples of its kind—and the finest ones, too—in the chilly steppes of Manchuria and Siberia is an odd one, but it is true never- theless, . The loss of human life, however, which these beasts inflict every year in the great British Indian empire is appalling. The English esti- mates, which have been made with great care during the last fifty years, in the series of local | reports established by the official precincts of that extended region declare that an average | of 5,000 people, men, women andchildren, have been and are annually destroyed by tigers! Ot course these people are not of the stamina of the Anglo-Saxon type, being the inert Hindoos, and most of them, indeed all of them, wholly unarmed, they offer to a tiger no more resistance than a goat or calf would, and were it not for the fact that the British officers and settlers make it a point to visit thoso localities where the man- eating tiger appears for the purpose of it, these figures of human slaughter, large as they now are, would be trebled or q annually. In Sumatra the natives seldom kill iger, being possessed of the absurd idea that the bodies of these animals are animated by the souls of their aucestors. COURAGE. One of the most extraordinary features of the tiger's nature is the extreme courage and the ultra cowardice which seems to be so blended as to give rise to the strongest expressions of difference of opinion when two or more ex- pericnced hunters are gathered together. Dest illustration of this peculiarity of that giant cat of Bengal can be given in the recitation of the following stories of actual occurrences: As for extreme courage: December 22, 1792, a party of English hunters set out for Sawger Island, Bay of Bengal, for the double purpose of killing tigers and deer. Their equipment and experience was ample, and the of four was headed by @ son of Sir Hector Mon- roe. These gentlemen landed in the morning, Lunted with success for deer all day,until about four in the afternoon, the heat caused them to seek the shade at the edge of the repared refreshments, even to for cooking their game. While the meal wae under full, beotwey preparation young Monroe looked ciared that hv saw a deer not far ? te § ut Had not taken twenty steps from when his companions heard a dreadful saw at the co mage} a gl upon poor Monroe, and, the shoulder with its teeth, the beast i & ik cor ee ne ay neers y fired all together tiger, evident to them that their shote cause almost as soon as the smoke Monroe came ‘out from covered with bl i fi f i street boy of New Tork, and in persistence he is | Boul: sorvices are not re- | POD Before the introduction and perfection of Tepeating breech-loading arms the bunting the tiger was the most dangerous and exciting of all field sports known to man, and the talet ‘told of that sport as it j 4 i j Ei i i3 &, f i H é 4 F i é Ey Fa é | i H He ifte Tig hich, though not one= juarter the size of » lion or tiger, Chatter ‘and. geetica 5 Ia they gradually gether closer und closer arout the corpse of their dreaded enemy until that limit is reached which brings them Pithin the grasp of the shamming cat's power- we. — HEREDITARY CLERGYMEN. Ministers of Various Faiths Whese Deo ecendants Continued Ministers. From Chambers’ Journal. Hereditary clergymen are not uncommon im all religions. A very prominent family among the Jews, the Adlers, have long held high rank in their church. In the last contury flourished the Rabbi Beer Adler. He was father of Mor« i chief rabbi of Hanover, whose son, the Rev. Dr. Nathan Adler, was for a great number of years chief rabbi of England, Dr. Nathan Adler's son Dr. I have held the rabbinate, and passage im the will of Dr. Nethan Adler points to there being still another generation in the person of the son of the prosent chief rabbi, carrying out the priestly traditions of the family. In the Church of Rome the celibacy of the clergy prevents the direct transmission of the riestly office, but thereare numerous families — for instance the Vaughans to which the arch= Dishop of Westminister belonge—in bee ic snc The present ome clergymen. t Moran of Syduey is nephew and Cardinal Cullen of Dublin, and i iit Bi He ° 4 fe ds E i