Evening Star Newspaper, October 8, 1892, Page 7

a EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON. D. ©. SATURDAY, = Pcayeed 8, 1892-SIXTEEN PAGES. VIEW FROM T RUSSIA'S GOLD DOMES A Look at the Wonderful City of! Moscow and Its 400 Churches. | = | THE TEMPLE OF THE SAVIOR. | rgeous Palaces and How One| ated A Look at the Greatest the World Russian Amusements we, September 4, 1892. OSCOW ISSTILL THE capital of Rusia. The \ cear lives at St. Peters \ burg during « part of the year, but the center thought is Moscow, and itis now enter of commer- jal Russia as well, The creatent railroads of the empire come to it, the est of the Russian ies send their ve it and ite bual- among the largest of the world. finest churches of Russia, and the broken out of {ts side is talior than a man and | ms § oe E other, but I found that I was strong enough to move it. TRE wUScOvITES. The city of Moscow has about 800,000 people. It is a growing city and it will be the biggest city in Russia in the future. St. Petersburg ro- HE KREMLIN to Moscow, and nearly every one of them has a olden dome. The holy buildings of the Kremlin are crowned with gold and thore is | before to y ter the Great founded it, The Mus- enough gold plating in Russia to it Broad- | Covites are among the most enterprising people wat wild the Public buildings of ‘Washing- | of Russia, and they have many institut mare ton. The czar has a e Just outside of St. | Which are worth notice. yy have Sui Petersburg known as Tsarskoe-Selo, which was | #hools for the teaching of the working classes built by Catharine the Great. I¢ is of vast ex- tent and {t was plated with gold. It took nearly « million dollars worth bullion to do the work and whe, owing to the dampness of the climate, it in to peel off Catharine ordered it tobe painted over. Some Russian aintors wanted to off the old gold and melt it over in and ey offered Catha- rine $600,000 for the Jeb. She sent them to Prion for ineuiting her with the proposition ase eRs etek aes| fies ge ame Ree eee er parlor covered with lapus lazuli and the walls | of the , in the heart of the city. and ceilings of one Brewing room aro of the + AMUSEMENTS. Ae the palace att the pears sre $00 apartments | went out one night to the People's Park to in the palace and the ball room cov nearly ae kaw tae sce anmaaedl themeciven:tu the evening. I found, perhaps, 10,000 Je moving abent under the trees in couples eth qrvpe camulqutane creed T baw caver “roms the “American fi as th on * erican |." as the goaster is called here, to the dance under the and there are night schools for the same pur- ore. The Moscow University is one of the | largest in Russia, and ft has from time %0 time | been the hotbed of nihilism. It was founded by Peter the Great, and it has about 2,700 stu- dents, which is more, I think, than any college in the United States. Many of the merchants of Russia are very wealthy andsome of them have very curious tastes. One of the merchant rinces here has a palace which is painted dead lack, and it is the most funereal-looking house freee and the ahog , but there yang me and no + Your 1, oe dressed as our girls of “America, moved aput without their hats on, in light summer cos- tumes, chatting together, and there were family parties and parties of friends the eve Thete were thousands of chil anda curious feature of the life was the teq parties, which were given in little bowers green. These bowers wore cut out of » bushy thicket and in each bower there was a table and seats. use of this—a teapot and a samovar of hot water. Many families brought their tea with them and made it themselves, and, by buying a holy that they make pil- m the borders of the Blsck | edges of Siberia to pray at jot cited: the which in of ite churches are ¢ Rome or the at little one of today, has « capital of as it pleases, and 26,000,000 a year. Chureh of Our ya few ye ‘harch commemo- from the about $40,000,000, or the nipieted t Washington. This church | [ ks of the Moscow river just | the Kremlin, and ite great gold dome wen blacii t under the sun from ot Moscow. It almost two | 1 it is built of a clear, in the sbape of a Greek crows.” It has polas at ite comers and © Russian | its cente cupolas and this | plated with | k 99) pounds of gold to d there is mor an imagine an 0} on of gold the top of | Just 106 iameter you may some idea ill a which f the Savi cupolas cost Sx sild and there are bells | a jewel and it ise and wonderfal | + combi- | carvings | before It er orna- Ly $500,000. t frieze of cary of the ywhere there is gol he priests are of solld walle are golden texts frem fo othe white. marble lighted by thirty-et windows f which is ninety feet cirty beggars, be 10.000 worshipers af asants. The priests who | lothes of gold and privet had on al be service wae | nearly every one} ttered another and the floor and pressed son ble. As the service | 0.000 bande crossed 10,000 breasts at | tof the 10.000 faces I did not tsober and reverent. Dur- | eboir of men and | he vaulted arches, impressiveness of | why its gorgeousness Beligion is the life It enters into his | it may be to = large ex-| f form be devotes the greater | fo to it, and it cannot bat have an ce upon his character. TRE OOLDES PALACE. Rossia is mores land of the orient thanof the cccident. These people are as fond of gold 0d precious stones as ace the rajabs of Indie er the priests of Siam. There arc 400 churebes QteretrecseTets ct: oe Ivay's TowER, half an acre. Its tloor is of wooden mosaic and there are other rooms in which the finishi Toll or » piece of cake of the numerous vendors of these articles about the grounds, they could havea supper in the open air for very small in ivory, bamboo and in bronze. The Price. must have cost millions and it is only one of a dozen which belong to the czar. I have writ- ten you of the wonderfal cathedrals of St. Pe- soreBurg and of the riches stored away within them. St. Isaac's Cathedral cost $16,000,000 and there t $500,000 worth of gold upon ite dome. Single columns within it cost £30,000, and the cheapest candlesticks in the Cathedral of Kazan are of solid sliver.. The richest churches, however, are those of Moscow, and I have wandered about through golden’ orna- ments here during the past week until my eyes are tired of the yellow metal and I long for = change. A GLIMPSE OF Moscow. I find Moscow one of tho most interesting cities | have ever visited. It is built upon hill and hollow along the winding Moscow river and it fs almost circular in shape. It is twenty-five miles around it, and the shortest street car line from one part of it to the other takes you a dis- tance of nine miles. In the very center of it is the great fortress known as the Kremlin, which bas a vast wall sixty feet high running around it and in which are the old palace of the czar, a half dozen churches, the cathedral and the tail tower built by Ivan the Terrible. This towor is five storios high and its golden dome rests in the air three hundred feet above the ground. Telimbed to its top this morning and took a GARDEN CONCERTS. Leaving the People's Park I drove to the Ermitago gardens. This is one of the institu- | tions which you find connected with every | large city of Russia. Itisasort of open air concert and garden combined. You pay a cer- tain amount for the privilege of the garden and the concert fs free. ‘There is a restaurant con- look over the city. A vast ocean of green trees | nected with the garden and between the acts and green houses seemed to move up and down | you may get your dinner, a cup of tea or cof- in billowy waves below me. aud out of this sea | fee or.a bottle of wine. ‘A curious thing about rose the golden spires of hundreds of churches. | the concert is that it isa sort of a mixed variety There wore thousands upon thousands of trees | show and the young indies who take part in the and the roofs of all the houses were painted | performances are by no means of un. I could seo the vast dome of the | character and they are known not to be 60, Ehureb of ‘Gur Sarior near the river, ayd the They dress very modestly {un black, Moseow di ite sluggish coarse liko » | night that I was at the Ermi es age e va~ black snake fm the form of the letter §| were at least fifty of these gir through the city below. Beyond the city I | from sixteen to twenty-five, and of all could see the sm: of “the factories in | rious shades of Russian beauty. ‘They were all PILGRIMS. the suburbs and just under me was the trian lar walled «pace known as the Kremlin. T conteins about 200 acres. It is paved with cobblestones, and its massive wall is entered by five gates. Ench of these gates has a history, dressed alike and they sang from time to time on this open air stage to a crowd of about 500 men and women. — Between the acts they moved about among the people, talking to every one and ready to takea glas# of wine ‘or and one is known as the gate of the Redeemer, | a cup of coffee from any comer with out an in- or the sacred gate. It has famous picture of | troduction. There waa nothing immodest the Savior above it,and every one, from the | about ther actions, and they wero apparently czar to the peasnt, takes off his hat before | very well'treated by all classes. I found a sim- pewsing through it. Every inch of the land | ar garden at Nijni-Novgorod and they oxist about this tower is historic and sacred. In | everywhere in Ru ssia. that church there all of the czars of Russia ‘THEATERS AND RACES. have been crowned, and in the treasury to the a left are the thrones of all the emperors of the Poise be ag ro past and the historic jewels and the choicest | ‘hey have excellent theaters. One of the plate now owned by the Russian crown. There | largest theaters in the world is here at Moscow. re 960,000,000 worth of gold and silver and | It is beautifully finished, and it will seat 7,000 rectous stones fn that treasury, and there are | spectators. Ite six guileries are draped in scarlot Tosi velvet and its stage machinory is of the best. St. Petersburg has a theater which will seat 8,000, and I heard Materna sing at the Aquarium there to at least 4,000 people ‘There are five regular theaters in St. Petersburg, and during the summer there are a number of open air theaters, and the parks are filled with people every night. Here in Moscow I have spent me very pleasant days at the races, and the Fun good horses and bet high. Pools are sold just as they are at our races and both men and women bet freely. There seemed to be no restriction as to be ns of gold there which are as big ase baby’s bath tub, and two card tables of solid silver which are worth a king's ransom. There are in this tower two bells of solid the bells of this tower of Ivan the Great are among the most wonderful in the world. A LAND oF BELLS, Russia is a land of bells. Every village church has its sacred bell and there are more than 2,000 bells in this cfty of Moscow. The biggest bell in the world lies at the foot of this tower, and, though it is upon its official classes to keep it | e, and the capital should ever be changed sorts of aperee tm Each party paid a few coppers for the | harass AN ARTISTIC TRIUMPH. ANNIE ELIOT Iy TWO TALES. HE CHUROH ITSELF seemed to vibrate with the chords that sounded through its emptinces. The golden sunlight of there through the balf- closed blinds and lay wallsand carpeted floor. No expectant stir of rustling silke and sud- denly arrestedattention ecoompanied the first notes of the wedding march; no sigh had beon breathed through the solemn hush that preceded them. Within the uncompromising wails dwelt a cold unrespons- iveneas that the persuasion of the organ left un- touched. Nevertheless, there was not wanting a oertain #1 eness that belongs to the 1 = that fs neither of fast nor feast. The rich co loring. the gold and ailver magnificence that make a Roman Catholic church a spectacle, are wanting; and the straight rows of seats, the severity of such decoration as there tea 4 be, are ly unemotional in their s{mplicity. it the dim light; the stience, unreached by the sounds of the busy street without; the u1 in- able consciousness that it is not the presence or the absence of men, their voices, their laughter or their tears that make of the building an abode, mark it with a certain distinc- tion, Call it the presence of Divinity, call it suy ition if you will, but itis not humanity. man who stood at the foot of the center ‘isle let his thoughts follow one another in some such strain to the accom ent of the music, which was the cause of his [ey there, He was not by temperament clined to week-day pilgrimages through un- occupied churches, nor was ‘@ nature whose religious or otherwise, ht eagerly | an emotional outlet. It was the spirit of idle- ‘ness abroad in the somewhat unseasonably warm afternoon, the laxity that comes with such en autumn day, when we foel that perhaps we need not, all, gird ourselves up for the winter fust yet—theto tnfluences, and the sub- ued sound ‘of the organ fesuing from s half- °7 door into the noise of the secular street the New England town, had drawn Randolph ‘Allan within the conasorated building. He was slover of music, and {t appealed specially him in meeds like bis procent one’ when the rush and effort of active life seemed pitiful and ng, and silence and solitude the great comforters. ‘That these moods were only occa- sional, and penetrated only on sufferance into what ‘was really a busy, practical existence, proved that Allan was no constitutional idler; and that they came at all witnossed to the fuct that he was not contrected and absorbed by sole contemplation of the material. organ and the player were tuvisiblo from where he stood, but there was » charm in the impersonality of tho performance. He could not tell whether the touch were that of «man or a woman's hand, and it pleased him to think that the presence of the auditor was unknown to the player, In a few moments he took his place quietly in one of tho empty seats and gare imself up to the pleasure produced by what he Tecognized as no mean skill and knowledge of music. It was a fine instrument and, as if in sympathy with tho joyousness of the sunlight without, the glad chords of the wedding march crashed forth in splendid harmony. The abad- ows grew deeper, and the sunlight fadedslowly, and the mystical’ twilight of Wagner's creatin, drew about the man, who still sat silent an lstening. The ideal fmpulses of his nature had full sway; this sitting in dim church and lis- tening to the harmonious vagaries of an organ Was an experience after his own heart. It did not seem to be a rehearsal of church music that was going on, for one composition succeeded another without hint of method or continuity, “The Watch on the Rhine” followed a song of Schumann and guve place to some bars of the “Tannbauser” march; © rhapsody was broken off in the middle and splintered into the chorus, of a light opera. There was such a hint of willfulness and such loosing of the reins of an indolent fancy con- Voyed in the variety of selections that it was impossible not to speculate a little concerning the person who wat at the organ, (Once Allan decided that {t was a man tosting his knowledge of this or that composition, and letting his fin- fersstray off now and then into, melodies of own devising. Probably his hair was a little longer than most people's, but otherwise he might not be recognize as an enthusiast. In- sensibly this vision gave place to another —that of = woman, dreamy, impractical, a tritle lonely, a tride exalted. ‘a slumber song floated in soft sweetness through the church, and as, after its concluding strain, the unseen former rose from the organ and closed it, was entirely sure that it was a woman. He made his escape quickly—he did not wish her to be disturbed by a knowledge of bis presence, ‘nd he had no desire to sce her. Experience had taught him the superiority of certain visions to their tangible representatives, and as, with s certain definiteness of intention, he speculated as to the frequency of this organ Practice, he was quite content to allow the role of unreality to cling about her figure. As he turned the corner of the strest be glanced et his watch and saw that it was too late to transact the business that he had placed before him as a purpose that afternoon. dark, and he might as well go and have tea wit his cousin Lucy. He went and had tea with his cousin Lucy when he happened to be in town. She was all the entertainment that he needed during bis short and infrequent visits to this particular little city. He doubted if he should find even as many demands for his presence hore ff it were not for his cousin Lucy, who always welcomed him, and generally had nice girl picked out for his wife. He rarely w the girl a second time, but she was invaria- bly a nice girl, as Lucy said, and he always en- Joyed moeting her. When he came the next time she was en to somebody else, and said it was al fault for being so dila- the happened to have just fallen in with It really was not casy to settle Ran- dolph in life. ‘The same earnestness and com- mon sense that made him a successful man of affairs demanded in the woman with whom he should full in love a corresponding stability of character—a reasonableness and strength of mind that he could admire, while the imagina- tiveness that had led him intoan empty church, away from the work-e-day world, to him self with fancies, was unsatisfied unless love | should bring to him also something less easily defined, more visionary and more transfiguring. No wonder Lucy was inspired to renewed efforts by the very difticulty of the task. “Randolph.” said she today, as ho ontercd her parlor, ‘t want you to go to the Ellis’ with mo tonight. You will not be bored. I promise you that.” “Delighted, of course, Who is the apprecia- tive girl this time?” it never been a part of his cousin Lucy's policy to keep her maneuvers a secret. Ran- ph was not a man to be taken unawares—but now she hesitated. “I thought I would not tell you,” she said. in patches on the white | White terfor of an unadorned Protestant church on a | thi: Tt was 7 ye I eyes with dark lashes, and an inde- scritbiy sir of bonne “J ich ap to one immediately. hed been Eos to speak of br danpey shoe reeal- ly—( were so unreasenably persistent. Bansotph bed conided to her saly tt tae even rho tan taf, Lon end senses) oa et hed had no difieulty' in ident her. “I know who it is,” she mid. nor much, and she plays She knows Anely, and she sings delightfully, and she is so— u” the contrast of her binck hair and eyes golorless complexion being almost startling. Her features were regular, harmonizing wi the classic head and arrangement of the hair. She was a woman, Allan decided, possibly un- interesting, possibly very much the reverse. Her manner was remarkably free from anima- ton; her eyos fell upon every one with unvary- ing calmness, her sweet. languid smile was.ovi- dently as much a part of her costume as were her gloves and handkerchief. Wes there some- ing behind this calmness that tt would repay the careful observer to discover? Or was she ‘an artistic creation, designed for the eye rather than the mind—still les the heart. Allan turned again to Miss Earle, who was watching ‘him with a little smile barely indicating the po- sition of her dimples. “It is not = what you thought, is it?” she meid,, “And lan't that ugly gown er “It is ugly, isn’t it? And—yee—it must be becoming. I fancy she is not one of those un- happy, women who wear ugly gowns by acci- mi “No. And that is the way it invariably strikes people. They notice her gown, only after they have first noticed her. It is not given to every oneto be thus superior to one’s Cos “Yes?” Randolph's eyes wandered over tho details of Mise Earlo's dress. She laughed. “I understand,” she said. “You bad not thought of mine before, had you? I hope will sak her to play,” she went on. always do.” “I fancied that she played—whether or no, as it were; that one must make her acquaintance turning over the leaves, if one made tf at all” “She doos other thin Miss Earle, with gravity. ‘Perhaps not so many other things, but teveral. Here ts your cousin; you will soon see for yourself. As Miss White looked up and smiled ic response to his low bow Randolph's doubt as to her power of being interesting vanished. This was not the smile he had seen on her lips be- fore. Its flavor of insipidity was gone. Her eyes met his with a look of half-ewakened in- terest, a faint color touched her cheek, and as she spoke her beauty and the sweetness of her voice, by some swift association of ideas, brought ‘before him the dim, lonely church; with its mysterions bush, and the charm of the music evoked by an unseen hand. It was but the suggestion of a moment; he seated himself at her side and exchanged commonplaces with her. Her smile came rarely,in comparison with that of Millicent Earle. It'was not so mirth- revoking, nor 80 pervasive, but itcurved her ips ito ‘a new line of beauty. When the hostess asked her to play she rose without hos- itation and went to the plano. Randolph's eyes fought those of Miss Earle, but did not meet them. She was watching Miss White as she looked over some music. Some one crossed the room and spoke to her, and she ‘replied with her swift laugh’ and a charming little backward motion of her head, not pronounced enough to be a toss, The coils of ir turned up from the back of ber neck were irresistibly pretty above the white silk of hor own as she composed herself to listen. As ndolph, too, listened reminiscences of the afternoon came to him again, and this time he did not banish them. It was not absurd that his meeting with this beautiful woman, who was seated at the piano with her flexible white fingers touching the keys earessingly, should bring them back! He had associated Sfisa White withrmusie from the first,and there was a eharm in her pretence not remote from that of the quiet, rmonious interior of the church, filled with sweet sound. There was undoubtedly: some connection between the impressions made upon him by the incidents of the afternoon and the evening, and it was far from impossible that she was the musician of the unseen organ loft. Why not? He pleased himself with the fancy while he watched the tall, pale girl. “How did she impress you?” asked Lucy, at her own door. “Which one?” asked Randolph, manipulating her latch key. “Don’t bundy words! Elinor White.”” How well you kuow me, Lucy! You don't ask me what I think of her, but how she im- pressed mo! There isa temptation for s man of my egotism. Were you always so clever be- fore you were married? How wasit I didnot fall in love with you, if you were?” They were standing under the hall light now and Lucy was scrutintslng him closaly. “When you speculate upon my prehistoric attributes,” she said, slowly, ‘you have always something to conceal. tis all I want to know. You may gonow.” He turned to the door laughing, but he was almost Ht would make too much of it to tell h prerence in the church, now, and yet , it would be difficult to give her an that would seem adequate to ber keenness. “Wait a moment,” she said. “Just tell me this, Project yourself forward, mentally, ten conti “You would have turned me out long before then,” he said, as he waited, his hand on the door. “Wouldn't you etill—in this changing. ob- iterating sphere—still remember Elinor es," he answered, after a pause. “Yes, I k T'should.”” os “Ido not understand her always, myself,” went on Lucy, absently kicking off’ an over- shoe, “‘but abe isa person one remembers. I think there 1s a great deal in ber to find out. I should like to know her better and find it. Good night.” The nextday Randolph was oceupied until lnte in the afternoon. He might have forgot- ten the organ if he hud not again found him- self before the church. Again aside door was open and he slipped in. Tho organist was there. The church was still dim and mysteri- ous. The cross at the other end was covered witha white cloth and suggested » shtoud. Randolph seated himscif and listened. As his meeting with Elinor White had brought before his imagination the present scene so here irre- sistibly came the vision of Elinor White. He could’ almost see her at the organ. He fancied her there in the dusky orgar loft, her beautiful eyes illumined by the passion of her art, “her classic head thrown a little back, her long, unconventional drapery flowing down over the pedals. Per- haps the light through o stained glass window yas falling upon hor hair; if 40, she were in- deed a atudy for o St. Cool. It’ pleased ‘bina to yield to such picturesque imagt: , but he sought no actual view of the organist’ He was taking liberty enough in listening. Besides, if it were not she—tf {t were the long-haired thuiast that he had first pictured—be preferred they “They | before him more clearly the sweet, musical | te: and unuesnal, and then fell back into her conventionality, did she know quite what bad said, or were ali her flashes of interest Bhe was such # contrast to Earle, whose little ways of laughter, gesture were so spontaneous, whose ‘Were never quite gone. With ber more tive qualities, Millicent lacked the dreamy, real, St. Cecilia charm of Elinor White. At the end of two weeks he was by no ready to go away, but what be was pleased to call his duty layin another direction, and be left town with a regret so decided that it afforded him food for speculation. His frank- ness with his own consciousness went only #0 far as ackno' that the in the empty chureh—the nearly empty church—were afternoons of most vivid rem! moe. He felt that he had never before permitted htmeclf of | to be as sentimental as he liked. He had told no one of this mystic Be wondered ifthe fair organist eter dreamed of The ence of an undeen listenet as abe called strains of Bach or Sullivan. It was not only the music that charmed him, it was the medi | {al moeterious, almost hallowed atmosphere of it Tt was some time before he was in Rad. field. Certain legal ins and outs sent him on somewhat prolonged trip to the west. Both a! home and abroad he saw a good deal of society. There were that made his cousin Lucy fear for the success of hor project. “I thought this time that Randolph was really understood,” she said penstyely one morning, as she sat at her writing desk. “No, of course not,” replied her husband ab- sently, ashe ran over the items of the tele- graphic column with practiced eyes. The tilence thet followed made him look up when hi to} had reached the foot of the column. “I beg your pardon, my dear. What was it you were saying?” he said. But seeing that was already finishing the first page of her je he returned to his newspaper with » good con- | shon! science. Lucy, having unresentfully eome to that con- cluston which makes the lives of s0 many clever married women happy, that {t wasn't worth while to explain things to a husband, was en- gaged in bringing into her letter to Randolj certain tactful references to Elinor White. When Randolph recetved this letter he per- ceived the purpose of the reminders, but they nevertheless had their effect. They brought indefiniteness of that slender young woman, and the old charm, unobliteratéd by absence, reasserted itebif. ft was under this influence that, finding a few houre on his hands, he took 8 train for |. He could easily get back to town the same night. It was not a fortunate inspiration, He went directly to Miss White's home and found it she was out of town. Not wishing to face her natural inquiries he Would not go to see his cousin Lucy. As he went down the strect hts steps turned, half from habit, half by whimsical intention, toward the church. He had no purposo of entering, for the spirit of those dusky after- noons had vanished, but the sexton was un- locking a side door and he followed him in. At the foot of the center aslo he paused, look- ing about him,asbe had done that first day. ‘The building was damp and cold. The «un- Ught was uot vigorous enough to penetrate the windows and Hein patches on the floor. The silence was oppressive, the organ loft seemed peculiarly gloomy. The draped cross mpon the Simple altar was more ghostly than ever in the dimness. He came avay chilled and disap- Polated: This disappointment emphasized and jended with that he had exporioneed in not finding Miss White, until it was really of a deep bitterness, It was not long after that he recetved an in- vitation, from Lucy to visit her ia her iit seaside house, whose wonderfal powers of ex- pansion he had more than onee tested. She expected Miss White and Mias Earle at the anme time, but, when ho arrived, be was met a sec- ond time with disappointment; Elinor was ill and only Millicent bad come. The days went by, and the beneficent influ- ence of outdoor life and frequent opportuni ties for the observation of Miss Earle's charac- teristics softened any regret that Randolph might be suffering. Lacy hed misgivings now and then, but she dwelt openly on the bulletins of Miss White's health, which was improving, but not rapidly, and comforted herself with as- surances that Millicent and Randolph were not likely ever to understand one another. Randolph had always considered that Miss Earle's chief charm lay in a certain limpidness of character. She was always laughing, trans- parent, like @ mountain stream. She seemed never to dash into the shadow, but to ripple all day in undisturbed good temper. ‘This poetic conception was rudely disturbed one morning when he came down late and found her most outrageously cross, because by some unfor- tunate misunderstanding she had been left be- bind by a of me: In vain gay Trymakers. represented that he ‘had neon left behind | 1 too. He did not care and she did, In vein he artfully centrived to hint that he badn't had anything for breakfast but » surreptitious cup of coffee on the piazza and was a Sit subject for compassion. That had wm to do with it if he had been stupid enough to be left too. And when be openly declared that at the worst he was there to amuse her, and she might be thanktul for that, it but fanned the flame. Apperently his Presence was the last fagot that threatened ‘actual cor tion. She nearly left the reom d | in the whirlwind of her wrath and then reso- lntely seated herself at the window with the air his} of defying fate. Randolph was afraid sho would cry, but {t was not unpleasant to dis- cover that there were depths in her nature that he had not sounded. She, too, could bo problematic. He caught himsclf wondering, more than once, whom of this party of pleasure she could have ‘been so anxious tosce. His feelings toward the man, whoever he was, were entirely ready tobe stirred into unkindness. Later in the day she gercrously admitted that she had been cross. Randolph urged her not to mention it, but added that if he were promged he would, be obliged to admit that sho 1d been a porfect virago, After this they saw even more of oneanother. Randolph went away, and camo again for Bun- dey. 5 ie, afew confidential with her. Ho found that she was in no small degree sympa- thetic, having that nameless something which ts a gift of the gods, and not to be learned in any finishing school whatsoever. It was just before ho wont away the second time that he told her about his hours in the Radfield Church. They had been speaking of Miss White and ber music. She did not laugh, as he was always afraid Lucy might do, at the sentiment of the situation. He ‘was willing to laugh at himself. “Quite stained piss attitudes for both of us,” he said. But was glad she did not laugh—that she under- stood the postry of it. . After a few more days of this summer fellow- ship Millicent left for other visits and Ran- dolph returned to his law practice, grown less absorbing of late. It seemed to him that Miss Earle’s sympathetic appreciation of his feeling for Elinor White hhad "heightened bis own per- ception of it. It had not seemed to her vague or ridiculous. She had felt the relation which he had ized between Elinor’s actual self and that vision of her as an unseen musi- clan. She herself had said at gnother time, de! delicately, that to her that element of un- r oe ‘@ large part of love. ‘He grew more ively to look upon Elinor White as his ideal woman. es to escape the Gisappointment, The variatio wn too to be and be nat the laws, I took a photo- ot the racecourse, ! «Very well. I suppose I shall know thesigns | wore delightfully whimsical this afternoon. The | for the day be sone when he oould go and And morning while the guards were | aud these people take very naturally to gam-| of appreciation.” layer thrilled through Chopin and crashed | her. she bad any experiences during her . Lposeds young Russian upon tt ron a Every one plays cards, and even at the| His tacit soquioscence *was not all r browse Beethoven and slipped into the|long summer of convalescence and renewed while I snapped my camera and I had another | family games no one thinks of without | satisfactory. had told ber husband, just | lightest and most = of melo- health that would make her character an easier botograph taken with myself standing beside | Stakes. Lotteries are prohibited by the govern-| before, that she felt tbat this girl really would | dies. As Randolph hastenod out of the| one to read? Would she be a little glad to seo a was castin the fourteenth cen- | Went, and the only ones which have been per-| understand Randolph, asd after all, that was | church yr the afternoon was -| him? He knew that when he saw her again in tery, but the tower in which {t was hung vas | mitted for yeare were those for the benefit of | all that waa necosmary” Her husband, wine hed | oniug. inte grening. After | a brief one of her quaint, delicately tinted cos burned again and again, and when it fell about | the famine sufferers, through which millions of his doubts about a woman's understanding any at his cousin Lucy’s he met Millicent Earle and. tere Shearing ea, two hundred years ago it was broken into | 40liars were raised. Faaxx G, Camrentza. had assented. furned and walked with her. She were a dark | or should hear her play again in the of arch, Pisces. It was cast iv a larger size and it is pyitid Lucy, argumentatively. | brown hat, which rested low on her forehead. | ahe would confirm’ that sway over his artistic said that the ladies of Moscow in s frenzy of Saved Wolseley’s Life. last ‘one was short. Appro- and wasupheldbohind by the heavy twisted colls susceptibilities, which had been more powerfal ‘From the Pall Mall Gazette. not, I perceive, a matter of | of her brown hair. affected soft-wood | than he had realized tintil he had gone awa: thet While serving in the Crimea Prince Victor of oolors always. They shaded with her hair and| from her. One of the first be should when it was ‘8 great broke out of its | Hoheniohe, soldier, sculptor and nephew of| ‘And dark.” her perfoct skin needed no brighter colors to| tell, if a certain to be side. It fell to the ground during « fire which » oo PI “The one before the last was very blonde; | bring out tts warm flush. Before Randolph's within hia grasp, would be Milicent ‘Parle, Queen Victoria, was fortunate enough t0 s8¥@ | she married # wostorn man, I remembor eyes floated the vision of s medimval divinity,but | would be interested and would understand his the life of Lord Wolseley, at that time a sub-| “And m re he could not fail to find this different type en- aie Hieving come $0 thle ion altern in the ninetieth regiment, “Musical?” ‘The word arrested his attention. y ol g- That little uni trick soon carried into Riding back from the trenches to camp Prince | He became» Little more curious. It would be | of emphasis was 4 He timed his im Redfield so Victor passed @ stretcher the body of | # not, unpleasant introduction, if there should | looking out for the places where that andj that, on another olden October after, an officer. He lifted the handkerchief to see | “lteady have taken place « revelation of her | the dimples might ppear. “You make me feel | noon, he turned into the open door of the who it was and recognized Wolseley's face. It | tastes and nature. 0 young,” he said, “‘when you laugh like that! | church and stole softly to « seat. Folly, was covered with blood from a deep wound in "interposed Lucy, | Such encouragement is dangerous! My old | haps, but [ue folly, et least! Perhaps the cheek. Thinking he saw « twitch in the she added, re- | friends will not know me for my quips and | the next day be should come, for the frst time, face he called » naval doctor (Irving by name) | PF ly, “that you are fond of music.” | wreathed emilee.’ asan companion! The sualight to look at him, much to the indignation of the| “‘Ob. yes," he assented. “What clse ia sho?” | Millicent looked @t bim from under her| streamed ‘the dim ‘and lay on army surgeon’ who had “passed” him as dead “Pale and slight and graceful—you will seo.” | lashes and dusty carpets of the Flecks of gold and who shouted to him to “leave his dead| ‘‘Yes, I shall see,” he agreed ;and| He thought of charming merriment of | showed through the covering of the distant alone.” oon, after went away to return later for bje| hore inter. “Certainly,” he said to himself, | cross. ‘The spell'of the atmosphere of coset Undisturbed by his remarks Prince Victor | Cousin. He did not tell her of his afternoon's | “there is pretty ‘and | cration was subditing to the spirit of restless, tried to. extract a jagged of stone stick- | @XPerience, ashe had of doing. It was | mirth provoking in that little girl's laugh,"*and | ness. The player in the organ loft was sending ing in the wound, and pain apparently | Just as well. then he fell to fancying Miss White's fingers on | forth from the great Pipes harmonies which | Drought Wolseley ’ to, for after’ littie| ‘She is not here,” said to her com- | the keys of the organ. should caim and at to his own eur- brandy nad been poured down his throat, amid | Pation, as they stood in Mrs, , But aday or two passed before he saw her pee be i; he was not calm and more asseverations from the army doctor that | oom looking it them. again. After that he met her often. Even in | he was not uplifted. The circumstances were he was dead, Wolseley sat up, exclaiming, ‘“No| ‘1 can bear up,” Handolph answered, “pro- | her own house she remained indifferent in her | precistly those of n year ago, but hie mreed nae more dead than youare, you foo” 8 Ly | Vided that ahe comes soon.” graciousness, The suggestion of impenetrable | a different one. The mental of that encugh, Dr. Irving was subsequently fleet Sar]. But abe did not come soon. More than half | Ssscrve was belied Let She eautifal woman the organ, of | geon to Lord Wolseley in the Ashanteo cam- | Paign and told bim remarks, the writer of the the above facts, which had been till ea eibnows whit THE WORLD'S HIGGEST PELL. gre occurred about a hundred and fifty years }, | Grand Lodge, and it has never been teswored. It now stands | Wetlnes: aye ‘aged on 8 i and it is | grand secre ary for twenty: | also insvector general in the © merics and a lawyer o: a 8 house. It is fifty-five feet in g two feet thick and the piece which has been i te t iJ ii i ee in bis letters now and then | “Bouncers” at Swell New York Metsts anf req w= MR. CORCORAN'S ART Gal- 4 | lery ts to Washington Mr. Stokes’ gallery Ph as oe a te to Moe 8 Thoasphanee we would come. | three advantages which the metrapoliten insti le ‘no longer, bat, opening and clos- tution has the establishment opposite the tng the door of commizuication wide eumtcloct | egashinnabad State. Every dayat Mr. Stokes to warn her of his approach, he dashed | up the stairs, athe stopped down into the lott sallery te « free day,and refreshments are | and around the corner o! organ he paused Served te visitors when they get tired of look” | with @ sudden, uncontrollable start. ing at the pictures, Besides Mr. Corcoran's gallery employs no bouncer. This is partly rows are comparatively ant Miliicent Earle’s| The bouncer at Mr. Stokes’ Hoffman House ‘ing io those tones be gnllery is Mr. Billy not paused to recognize a moment earlier: there onany week day suppore—Mr. Allan—anything bet—| ts too stricta Sabbatarian to keep his eetab- ; Ushment open on Sundaye—one is sure to find The sunlight faded away and left the church jmamer anil more ghosily than ever. The th important functionary on guard, Soar dows were positively terrifying in what was, | 48 outward appearances are concerned no one | from the organ loft, the gloomy vault streteh- tng in dread uncertainty beneath. Still Milli- —o and Randolph Allan sat before the | yi... hese eid to Re weens pacar Uselens instrument } eonted ie) somewhere inside of him which renders Hk tinder pope eee Menke eel | amgrecstolnateclehoene Re | coniemplatively at the dimpies and the warm Tipmcnary B mS &. C1 ond it he fuch on her cheeks, “that one finds the actual ith Mr. Billy Edwards, and the {deal thue tufted.” TS A MILD-MANWERED MAR. “But Elinor White is still your » TOU) Rave on th or know,” objected Millicent, twisting ber’ chin | | Seve ie Setanta tos Se heeatd reficctively, resting his bead | Mr. Edwards is the most mild mannered of } c the organ and clasping bis hands about men. Though a gradunte of the prize ring, he knees, “she fs really but'n phantom to me, | bears none uf the outward marks which com- | now that she is separ monly distinguish members of that craft. His popniarity fe great and one always finds him surrounded by a group of adtire: fmb{be ardent sumalante he drinl | Stager pop. In dealing with a ro ined patron he tnvartably Upon his | very lipe was the inquiry, “Can I be eleay i sistance, Miss White there. ‘Millicent Ear: to his, but it was arrested ‘# eyoe were ratsed tn an ; ba | would imagine that he was present for such = Purpose. He is rather undersized, slender and ing to wha! pisying Twas suro that next “She looks well,” said Millicent, with tnex- | by pensive generosity. “Ogptainly,” he admitted, “she always looks not to be aveided, be action, and the recalcitrant visitor tmeel? out on the sidewalk before be has valive what bas happened te him. uality of the discipline adminis- ee’ gallery, Vor a dozen years ne held the baton of euthority the best known “private New York. He belongs toe eles of carefully picked men who doe great desi to as sist in the maintenance of orter in the me tropolie. Each one ef the big botele which at more than a giimmer of | _ where there was a window; Millicent picked up astray eheet of music. . “Iwas wondering,” said Randolph, “wh¥ you were not more surprised to see me this af- rnoon. ”- | Millfcent langhed, threw beck her head, blushed and laughed again. Randolph leaned forward. “‘What does this mean?” he de manded. | Silently ehe raised her hand and turned the | trast floaters’ o night emplove suck an ae- Uttle mirror above the key-board, so that it re- | glstant, These o hav. flected » pale fash of light from the empty church. He looked at ber sadly. ¢ crowd of patroy “I saw you the first time you came,” she de- | to clared. “I did not know who you were 1 | geri have seen you every time since,” she added. “Oh, Millfeent, Millicent!” he sighed. “I have played for you every time,” she pro- ceeded, with malevolence. “I saw you when you came and when you went away. You e other duties rform besides that which has been de- verixo rae tows, = @ One of these dutiee is to see that patrons who ere unable to take care of themselves are taken home tn cabs or otherwise, They bave also to ‘always went Just far enough up.” | “show the elephant” to rich or ——— the mirror up and down in dazed | visitors who desire to sve the sights of the town. “And then,” she sald tngonuously, “it was sg | 2t #8 part ‘wa ont pike beak {ntoresting, ou know, when you tol me about | Fuld resort of vice tu; New Yorke They ane tt se cnen sont he helped ber down from / 6. known personally $0 the proprietors of all Hye age oistbiidy gained ms oath: such establishments in order that they may be “At last Tam eppreciated—thoroughly under-| ®0'0,1° teeuce admission for themsolves and at iy ents. course, gambling houses @f the stood and appreciated. etter class will not admit strangers. Ifa party of men with plenty of money in their pockets expresses © wish to “see life” in the metropolis the special officer of the hotel | where they are staying must know how to rake things entertaining for them. Heise peice man,and they feel perfectly safe under his want to toy ANY SEEDS OF THE CAMPHOR TREE have beensent to the Department of State | guidance. Supposing that they ith the “tiger,” he escorts them only to the from Japan in the hope of affording to the | ™ sen hone a y - sre “equate games” are played. United States @ chance to add this valuable Pies wok of otch os elbeurte fom fairly re- substance to its vegetable products. The tree| munerated. He doos not have to labor fs a species of laurel, and it grows in extensive | hard and usually he receives €40 « week, with forests in the mountainous regions of the | luxurious board at the hotel, On the whole his south of Japan farfrom the sea, Large groves | *!tuation in life is rather enviable, are owned by the Japanese government, the Sage aOR wood being very desirable for shipbuilding. | — at —- = aeons ot ee Some inthis a emcees int Se ang eb as oe often measuring twelve fect in diamoter and sometimes attaining twenty feet. The seeds or | B°*1Y #0 bothervome anywhere else. It gob- “ of . bles up valuable papers that are stored Gway in berries grow in clusters, resembling black cur- : aoa rants in size and appearance. The fine grain | ® departments and housewives find tte pest of the wood renders it particularly valuable | ¥ellnigh as voracious and troublesome es the for cabinet work. moth. It is very common in dwellings all sie dannbtinin eb Gamal rer the District and it scname and other fabrics all to pieces. . it The camphor toa resinous gam. To get 1 | sanction of the bockworm, eating beleske the the treo is necessarily destroyed, but, by ®| leaves of books and devouring the bindings to stringent law of the land, another is planted in Stet the ea 7 ture ‘his ot eect its stead. The simple method of manufec wane moe wy |G - = — CAMPHOR FROM JAPAN. ‘The Trees It Comes From and How It is Manufactured. loved ives is as follows: The tree | entemol: Sr fell tothe earth and Cot into chips, "a big | ereabores have no endlaf popeiar names, The? metal pot is partly Glled with water and ero variously known in as “silver over a slow = Then : Me - is fitted oo ee eka ce to of the pot and the c cam) maaan in ‘this. ‘The bottom of the | becauso of we litle tub is perforated, so as to permit the steam to | #sh. ee nerves yor balf an Le | long. though ft sometimes ins « length ee ee eee two inches, It ts cled ins handsome armor of A steam-tight cover ts fitted on the tub. scales, which are rubbed off by the From this tub a bamboo pipe leads to another | glightest touch, so that it is difficult to caprare tub, through which the inclosed steam, the | a specimen without spoiling its beauty. {thas generated camphor end oil flow, This second | 8¢¥eral bristles at the end of ite ttl, tasee fab is couvected in like manner vith the third. | them being longer than the others. = The third tub is divided into two manta, | MOonly it selects the sash frame of a = one above the other, = a aor deing ———- finding » convenient biding place rforated with small holes, to allew the water racks. A cad Olle panto thn lower Gomi tment. The| These “silver bi ty bp em compartment is # with a layer of | Clothes, on whieh they often inflict ~—_ = which catches poy 219 the camphor in| damage. They have been found in — crystals. The camphor is then separated trom | baskets: the willow wither being bored lo tho straw, packed in wooden tubs of 135 pounds | tadinally by them. The colored people of 4 each and is ready for market. declare that the insect is a — After each boiling the water runs off thro but entomologists do not indorse a faucet, leaving the oil, which is utilized by | this opinion. The latter say that liberal doses the natives for illuminating and other | of Persian insect powder are the best remedy purposes, Adulteration of camphor gum is | for the mischief. practiced mostly by adding water just as far as the buyer will tolerate it. Sometimes the par- chaser will find that twenty pounds of water | Brom Life. have run out of atubin twelve hours. The unadulterated article, known as “old dry,” can sometimes be bought, but not often. In a letter en this subject newly received by the Depart- ment of State, Consul Smithers writes ™ Osaka, Japan, that it would be very desirable to send a competent agent from this country to Japan, who should visit the camphor-producing districts and study the processes of manufacture, packing, &c. ——. SUPPLIES FOR TYPEWRITERS, Processes for Making Ink Ribbons and Man- Molding Papers. HE MANUFACTURE OF TYPEWRITER supplies isa first-class mystery. It would seem that the making of such articles as ink ribbons, carbon paper and manifold paper is hedged around with secrets. The proprietary value of the various brands on the market con- sists in the private knowledge of processes which are explained to nobody. ‘Typewriter ribbons of the bestsort are made ‘out of the finost cotton ribbon, which is bought in large rolls. They vary in width from five- sixteenths of an inch toan inch and half. Some ribbons ere cutout of cotton cloth, but this is an inferior method. The ribbon is crane orcas ts fibers. Finally it is rocess of . ase up among the chips. The Uses of Magic. wecret. Itis mixed with of] and glycerine to it from Two kinds of inks sry gS eae, Hat ape ments as epg black, But the with CARBON PaPEn, Li