Evening Star Newspaper, May 6, 1893, Page 10

THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D. C, SATURDAY, MAY 6, I893—-SIXTEEN PAGES. eS MARCUS DALY’S HORSE FARM. THE COPPER KING. Gossip About Marcus Daly, the Mon- tana Millionai HIS FIRST CALIFORNIA JOB. How Bought the Famous Allice Mine and His Anaconda Property—The Biggest Cop- per Mines—His Horse Farm and How He Manages It. ee Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. Axacoxpa, Most., April 20, 1893. ¥ ALL ODDS THE most striking character in Montana today is Marcus Daly, the famed Anaconda millionaire, the celebrated horse owner and the chief of ‘the copper kings of the United States. No one knows how much Daly is worth. He owns a bank or so, an electric railroad, a big hotel, =" something like s million dollars’ worth of horses and lands, and he has, 1 am told, a one-fourth interest in the Anaconda copper mines, which are the biggest and best paying of any in the known universe. The army of employes who work under him is as large in number as that which Xenophon led in the famous retreat described in the Anabasis, and his pay roll runs into the tens of thousands of doilars per day. Still, he came to the United States a poor boy, and when he landed at San Francisco at the age of thirteen he had not a cent in bis pocket, and he trotted up and down the bread ‘walks for three or four days seeking a job. He looked in vain, until at about the end of the fourth day he saw an old farmer in a wagon driving throagh the streets. He stopped him and said, “Haven't you got something out at By that I can do?”* “Well, [don’t know, young man. What can you do?” “I can do anything.” “Can = dig taters?” “Yes, Ican,” said Daly, and the man there- upon told him to get into the and be ‘took the boy home to his ranch. was some place east of Oakland, and Daly dug potatoes for the old rancher for three weeks. He said it nearly broke his back, but he stuck to it until he got a little money, and then, boy as he was, he started for the mines. He’ grew up sur- rounded by gold and silver and he soon devel- a wonderful ability as an expert miner. the Comstock lode was discovered he was in Nevada. He had by this time become yuainted with Mackey, Flood and O’Brien they made him the foreman of that mine. After working here for some time he drifted to Salt Lake and was engaged there by the Walker brothers, who bare, you know, owned some of the most famous mines of our history. ‘He served them as a mining ex; and it was about sixteen years ago that was sent by them from Utah to Montana to expert the “‘allice” mine. HOW MARCUS DALY BOUGHT 4 MINE. The Allice mine is one of the most famous in Montana It has produced millions of dollars’ worth of gold and silver. Its output for 1891 was nearly « million and it is still worked at = t profit. At the time that the Walker rothers thought of buying it the stock had fallen very low. They knew that it would rise at once if it was known that they wanted it and Daly was sent here to find out all about it. He to Butte City asa miner. He was dressed in rough clothes and pretended that he was dead broke and wanted work. He went to the old Continental Hotel and pretended to look for work for a week, but failed to get it, and told the landlord that he had no money to pay his board. This seemed strange to the landlord, as all miners were well paid as there was a great demand for extra hands. The landlord said, ‘Well, I will see if I can’t get you a job.” He then went down to the Lexington mine and got a piace for Daily, ‘and told him about it. Mr. Daly said, “I ama little particular about my wor! il down and look at the job.” replied young Daly. DALY'S COUNTRY HOME. came back the same day, and said that the mine was too wet, and that as his lungs were not strong he feared to go to work in it. He then loafed around for another week, and the land- lord, getting more desperate still about the pay- ment of his board, went out and found him an- other job. Daly looked at it, worked in it for two days and then came back’ and said that the mine was not timbered properly, and that he would not work it. Now the board bill for three weeks was due, and the landlord got hot. He went up to Waikerville and got Dalya job in the Allice mine. He told the Walkerville own- ers that he had aman loafing around at his place for whom he wanted work long enough to pay his three weeks’ board bill. They gave him the job and he came back to Daly. He swore at Daly upon his return, tellmg him he was too d—n particular about.his work and too d—n easy about his eating. He said that he had got him another job aud’ that he wanted him to take it and stick to it. As Daly heard him say that the work was in the Allice mine his heart must have jamped, but there was not a change in his features and he only “Well, I wall go and look at it.” It was the opportunity be had waited for’and he took his place asan ordinary miner in the Allice. He worked for three weeks, inspecting the property as he dug and mined, and at the end of this time he tnrew up the job and left Batte City. Six weeks later be eame to the surface as manager of the property. Tho Wal- kers, at his advice, bought the mine and they put him at its head. MILLIONS IN COPPER. ™ While Mr. was managing this he was looking about for other mines on his own ac- count, and he invested in a number of silver mines. I asked him yesterday whether he had ever madeany money in silver mines and he replied that he had, but he did not give me the figures. Among the mines he bought was the Anaconda mine, for which he paid, I think, $30,000. It was begun axa silver mine, but after running down 120 into one of the biggest copper veins on record. Up to this time copper. but i went to work in this sisted of J. B. Hi Senator George H. rst, Marcus Daly and one ort others, and it has materially added to the millions of these we lean t give you any ade: ite idea of the enor- mous extent of these great mines. Two thousand miners are employed in the mines day and night, and within the last ten years the enor- mous sum of $40,000,000 nas been spent by Daly in wages and in works for operating these mines. All of this money has come out of the mines and no one but the owners know how much more the mines have paid. The stock is not for sale and the Anaconda mines and smelters form a close corporation. Ths lumber which is used each month for operating the mine would make a board walk two feet wide from Washington to Philadelphia and 100 cords of wood are eaten up each day in the feet the lead developed | my stables I would sell them tomorrow. out from the mines daily, and everything con- nected with them is done after the latest methods with the finest of improved machinery and on a gigantic seale. THE WORLD'S BIGGEST SMELTER. These mines are located at Butte City, but the ore is all brought about thirty-seven miles here to Anaconda to be smelted, and the big- gest smelting works in the world are here. I went through them today. They wall the sides of the mountain, covering more than eighty acres of space with vast buildings packed full of machinery. Great brick chimneys one-third as high as the Washington monument pierce the sky as they stand on the tops of the mountains above them, and these are connected with the works by flues so large that you conld drive a wagon load of hay through them with- out touching the walls. This is to give the proper draught. ‘There are vast cn- gines and great boilers and a wilder- ness of machinery. ‘The fly wheels of the engines are as high as a three- story house and the. power is conducted by cables of steel which run from one elevation to another up the sides of the mountain. I can- not describe the machinery except to say that the ore-producing, rock, containing copper, gold and silver, is pounded into a mush with great stamps and then filtered and refiltered, run through process after process, until at last itcomes out in the shape of a metal sand, which is taken to other works and reduced to metal. I remember one room on which this sand ran over hundreds of great tables almost as big around as a small circus tent, and these were washed by a running stream of water in such a way that the refuse went off into pipes, while the copper ore remained on the tables. In other vast rooms covering acres were hun- dreds of grinding machines which made a noise like a sewing machine, and there were acres of settling vats and of almost every imaginable kind of machinery. THE ATMOSPHERE. I rove from here to the smeiting works and walked through vast rooms filled with fumes of sulphur, which make you feel as though a bushel of matches were being burned under your nose, and saw the roasting of this copper in great iron coffee pots five times as big as the largest hogshead you have ever seen, and watched the reddish-golden metal pour out in streams and runoff in the of a center table or in blocks like those in which pig iron iseast. A great many of these pro- cesses are secret and electricity is now being used to te the gold and silver from the copper. The amount of gold and silver in this Anaconda copper is such that it is believed that it will eventually bear the cost of re- fining and the copper will be pare Profit. It takes about 2,000 men to work this smelter, and the wages paid them are from $2.50 uj ward per day. Everything is done on the strictes$ business methods, but Daly's treat- ment of his men is such that he never has « strike, and they stand up for him through thick and thin. It is this tact that sakes bine such ‘a great power among the people in Montana. He has ids of employes, and his friends ‘are legion. I visited the smelter at noon, arid a curious sight was that of the men cooking beefsteak on hot shovels which they rested on the kettles of molten copper. HOW MARCUS DALY Looks. I met Mr. Daly during my stay here and had an hour's chat with him. He looks a good deal like Proctor Knott of Kentucky, save that his hair and mustache are gray rather than white and his head is slightly larger that Knott's. He is a blue-eyed, rosy-faced Irishman of about fifty-five years of age. He dresses simply and there are no frills or furbelows about him. He is full of vigor, and when I rode with him from Butte to Anaconda the other day on the train he wore a soft hat, a rough chinchilla overcoat, pair of pantaloons which were decidedly with- out the creases of the New York dude and his shoes were covered with a pair of rubbers spat- tered with the mud of Butte City. I found him 8 good talker and full of plain, practical, every- day common sense. He has a bit of a brogue, but his laugh is a hearty one, and he evidently enjoys life. Marcus Daly is married and he has avery handsome wife and delightful family. His ‘car, which cost 40,000, bed rooms, parlors, kitchens and bath rooms and is used by the family when they travel. As for Marcus Daly himself he rides i car, and the family live here the simplest kind of style. something like 200,000 and is kept up at a big cost. It 1s owned by Daly, but his rooms in it are as lainly furnished as those of many of Fis employes’ parlors, and his habits are simple in the extreme. He rises at about 6:30 in the morning, takes a cup of coffee and a beefsteak and is at work before many of his employes are up. He works fast, deciding quickly on every- thing and showing great executive ability. I am told that Mr. Daly controls 225, 000,000 worth of property in Montana and it is said that the Anaconda property would bring $35,000,000 any day. His monthly pay roll for labor here in| Anaconda alone is more than $160,000 and he pays 250,000 8 month for the coal he uses, DALY'S FAMOUS HORSE FARM. Mareus Daly has some of the fastest horses in the world, and he basa horse farm not far from here which contains about €1,000,000 worth of horses, and which includes 4,000 acres. He is building a big frame house on this now, which will have about twenty-nine rooms, and he «ays he expects to retire here when he gets tired of work. He has ideas of his own with regard to his horses, and I bad an interesting conversation with him today about them. Tasked him if he expected to make money out of his horses or if his racing stock was not merely one of the luxuries of @ mil- lionaire. He replied: “Of course I expect to make money out of them. Noone in Montana goes into luxuries of that kind for the fun of the thing, and if I really thought I could not make a profit out of ny kind of a Anaconda in This hotel cost SNAPPER GARRISON AND TAMMANY. I have a theory that the state of Montana will produce the best horses of the world and Iam testing it. The climate here ix cold in the win- | ter. but the air is pure and it increases the mown tnillionaires. | mine. Three thousand tons of ore are shipped | lang power of the horses. Tam told that the bovs here at ten years require suits of clothing as large as thoxe worn by a twelve-year-old boy of the he air expands their lungs and they grow big chests, and the same 18 50 of horses. As to the coldness of the climate and the charge that colts will not grow here in the winter. if this is true, Lexpect to overcome it by good stabling and good food. Our gras here is better than that of California or Ken- tucky, and it makes better bones and better feet. Lam buying the very best of stock and so far my stables are doing vers BUSINESS IN BREEDING. “How are they managed?” “My farm is ran on the same business prin- ciples as are the mines and smelters. Every- thing is systematized and kept in book shaj Every saddle aud bridle is charged, and if aT halter strap is broken it has to be brought back before a new one can be given out. 1 know to cent what everything costs. and I keep two sets of books, one of my racing and the other of my breeding stables. I have weekly reports, and I know just exactly on what horses I am making and on what I am losing.” A FORTUNE IN HORSE RACING. “How did your stables pay last year?” I asked. “Fairly well,” was the reply. “They netted me something like $127,000 and they cost about $72,000. I paid 210,000 for Tammany when I bought him as a yearling. He won $78,000 last year and he will probably win at least 250,000 this season. He is now three Fears old, and I will take him off the track after this season and breed him. To show you how Irun the of course charged the racing stables w: All the expense of keeping him has been charged to him, as well as every other item that he has cost. Ialso charge against him 6 per cent on the amount invested in him, and the difference between the cost and the amount he brings gives me the profit I make out of him. When I take him over to the breeding stables I will charge the breeding stables 250,000 for him and will credit that amount to the racing stables. A regular record will be kept of his colts, and he ought to produce thirty or forty @ year, which at eleven months old will be Worth 31,000 apiece, and in some cases will bring as high as $10,000 each. I will only keep ‘the best colts of any of my breeding and I reg- ularly weed out the culls. Each of these colts will be charged in turn and the two stables will be kept entirely separate, so you see I can tell toa ‘I’ just where I am making or losing.” DALY ON HORSE TRAINERS. Mareus Daly has the best horse trainers in the United States. Every one knows of Mat- thew Byrnes, who is at the head of his stables here, and who gets, I am told, something between $10,000 and $15,000 a year. The jockey who has charge of Tammany is Snapper Garrison, who is said to receive $10,000 a year, and I got a picture today of Snapper Garrison on Tammany which was recently made for Mr. Daly. Mr. Daly said: “I think good horse trainers are born, not made. They must have an intuitive knowledge of the horse and a good trainer is a rare man. We never allow our horses tu bo abused or sworn at on the farm. Of course it is different in a race; then the jockeys sometimes cut the life almost out of them.” THE RACER VERSUS THE TROTTER. “How about the trotter, Mr. Daly? You have a number of fine trotting horses.” “No, not now,” was the reply. ‘I am clos- ‘ing out my trotting stock as fast as possible. I don’t believe that trotting is legitimate sport. It is the result of mechanical training and me- chanical breedi: I prefer to devote myself to running stock and I believe that there is more money in it. The earning capacity of a running horse is much greater.” “How about the record? Has it reached its lowest limit?” “No, L believe not. I expect to see a mile trotted in two minutes before I die.” “How about the racing record? Will that be lowered: “That is hard to say,” said Marcus Daly. ‘It is true a phenomenal horse may come which will cut it down below 1.35, the record now held or. There is limit to the physical possibility of a horse and 1.35 is very fast time,” ENGLISH HORSES CAN'T BEAT US. There told Mr. Daly that I had visited the stables of North, the nitrate king, in England last summer and I asked him what he thought of the horses which North had sent to the Chi- cago derby. “I don't believe that they will be able to do anything,” was his reply. “They are not ac- climated and English horses can do little in America for the first year. The tracks are hard for them and they cannot do themselves justice. North has some horses which are good in Eng- land, but if Iam not mistaken they would be considered second-rate in America. England can make a better strain of blood than we can and we go there for our thoroughbreds, but we can breed better horses here, put new life into them by feeding and take them back and beat them on their own track.” €57,000 on THE BROOKLYN SUBURBAN. “Speaking of business again, Mr. Daly, do you ever bet on your horses?” “Yes, I do,” was the reply, “but I don’t put my winnings and losings down to the profit or loss of my stables. I invest in bets upon my just as I would on stock which I thought was going up. I back them for what I think they are worth and I made €57,000 on the Brooklyn suburban last year, but ‘this matter goes into my private expense account and it is not set down against the horses.” Frank G. Canresten, + 0+--_ A COCKLEBUR IN HIS THROAT, An Indian Boy Who Met With a Curious Mishap While Driving Cattle. An Indian territory “cocklebur” is a little thing. but creates a great deal of disturbance when lodged in one’s throat. Henry Roebuck of South Canadian, L T., carried one about in this manner for exactly a week before getting rid of 1t. During that week he did not get ten minutes’ solid sleep. Every movement of his mouth gave him excruciating pain, and what food he ate would scarcely have kept a kitten alive. Dr, William C. Glasgow, the St. Louis throat specialist, succeeded in getting the cocklebur out of young Roebuck’s larynx, but only after many unsuccessful attempts and spending upward of three-quarters of an hour ii operation. The bur hurt worse than the operation,” ‘hispered Henry to (lobe- Democrat reporter, “but I'm getting along pretty well now.” ‘Young Roebuck and’ his father occupied a room on the third floor of the Missouri Mali- cal College. The patient isa boy of eighteen years, talland thin, and his father, a sun- browned rancher. is thinner yet. ‘He got the bur stuck in his larvnx.a week ago Monday,” explained the elder Roebuck, “while we were driving cattle. He was running after ‘em to beat the wind, for they were pointing wrong. ‘The dog we had didn’t seem to know exactly what to do, and as he was chasing along Henry began to holler atthe cur. He was plunging through a lot of the bur bushes at the time and as he opened his mouth for about the third holler one of the measly things flew into his throat. Of course, he sort of gasped, and that puiled the thing down deeper. The’ more he ped and coughed the deeper the bur got. Wier tia than vel ue Means Couaee ag ak something to pull it out with, it was out of ht completely. Well, sir, 1 do believe that the last seven days have made the worst week of my life. I've been with him ever since it happened and haven't got as much sleep as he has. You see, I had to watch him so. Every time he'd fall asleep he'd breathe through bis month and begin to strangle. I'd have to wake him up rightoff and make him breathe through his nose. “I've had a terrible time finding any- body that could get that presen bur out.” The “‘cockle” is a prickly bur two-thirds of an inch in length, longer than it is through and tapering towards the ends. It is soaked red with blood, and a few of its “quills” haye been broken by the operation. oe A Good Obituary. From the Detroit Free Press. ‘The writingeditor of a certain Cleveland newspaper is a man who is ordinarily as im- pervious to compliments as @ stone wall is to bird shot. The other day, however, he was forced to blush at praise. A well-known man in that town had by some means been reported dead, and the editor, having known him well, set about preparing an obituary editorial worthy of the occasion. When it was all done and he had a proof of it before him in walked the man himself. ‘The editor was surprised. “[just heard,” said the visitor, “that a rumor was abroad to the effect that I had gone over, and I came in to prove to you that it was not correct.” “We heard abott it.” said the editor, “and I just fixed you up alittle something here as a token of our esteem,” and he handed over the roof. Pre man read it through carefully and with evident gratificatior. “By jove. old fellow,” he said fervently, taking the editor's hand, “after reading that editorial I'm almost sorry ‘the rumor isn’t true.” ‘Then the editor blushed. 0+ | Gondoliers at the Fair. | From the Chicago Herald, | The uniform of the gondoliers will be the dress worn four centuries ago, and the boats | will, of course, be black, since an ancient edict allows no other color. The men’s trousers will be knickerbockers, tied at the kneo-with cord and tassel and striped in red and white. ‘The jacket will be red,with gold fringe and a many- | colored belt, and « large medallion over the breast. The cap will bea fez with a feather, | the whole comprising a most brilliant outfit! ‘Those who drive the single craft and those on the big ducal barges will be dressed alike, and { ali cabins will be decorated in silk and satin. OFFICES GO BEGGING. Places in Uncle Sam's Gift Which Few Will Accept. SOME ARE DANGEROUS, While Others Are Poorly Paid—Duty Aboard the Phantom Ship Not Desired—Cholera Doctors and Moonshine Detectives Scarce— Vacant Post Offices—Unsought Consular Posts. —_-___ FFICES THAT GO begging! It would hardly be supposed that there were any such, judging from the swarm of place hunt- ers that has besieged Washington for the last two months. In fact, however, there lf} are many salaried po- sitions in the govern- ment’s gift which it is if hard to get men toac- cept. Some of them involve great danger, while others are too poorly paid to be desir- able. For example, just now the treasury finds it almost impossible to secure available men for revenue agents in the mountains of Tennessee. Anumber of those officers have been mur- | dered recently in that region by moonshiners, Three of them were shot from an ambush and killed only the other day. The occupation in which they met their death is the most hazardous known. During three consec- utive years twenty-five of these seckers after illicit stills were slain and forty-nine wounded. No wonder that it is difficult to fill their places at $6 a day and expenses. To do the duty well requires sense and discretion as well as cour- age. One fool agent in five minutes can get the internal revenue bureau into an embar- rassment that will take a year to get out of, be- sides entailing great expenses. ON A LIGHT-sHIP. The treasury finds it hard to get and retain officers on board of the New South Shoal light- ship, which is stationed twenty-eight miles south of Nantucket. Here, in a region of almost eternal storms, the vessel rides at anchor. Like the storied phantom ship, she is perpetually buffeted by the waves, though never destined to get anywhere. From time to time she breaks adrift and is blown out into the ocean. During three consecutive monthe of last year she was absent on two such invol- untary eruises—once for thirteen days and the other time for eight days. Usnally on such occasions she is towed back by a steamer that is sent to look for her; sometimes she manages to get back under sail. Besides rations and clothing, the captain or keeper gets @83 a month, the engineer $80, the assistant engineer 265 and the assistant keeper $50. In spite of such good pay, it is rarely that a man can be wunded to ‘spend a second winter on this Fightship, which is the last landmark, 60 to spenk, seen by transatlantic voyagers on their way to Europe. ‘Tho marine hospital service, which belongs to the treasury, is having trouble in finding physicians to send abroad for service as in- spectors of vessels at European porte during the approaching summer. These officers, who will examine all ships bound for the United States, are required to have had experience of cholera. Furthermore, they must know the language spoken in the’ place to which they ai dispatched and must possess come acquaintance with the country. For example, the medical agent at Liverpool ought to be familiar with the slums of London in order that he may be on his guard against persons coming from dan- ger spots, Few available persons are willing to a J commissions from the treasury to represent the United States government on the seal islands in Bering sea. Those isles are 1,500 miles from Sitka and 3,000 miles from San Francisco. After the steamer leaves in October they are shut off from communication with the rest of the world until the following June. ON MOUNT WASHINGTON OR PIKE'S PEAK. For like reasons few men care to serve as observers for the weather bureau on top of Mount Washington. Officers at this station must live through the winter in an iceberg, chained and anchored to rocks amid the clouds—for into such a shape is their cabin shelter transformed by frost and the accumula- tion of snow. For months together they are cut off from all the rest of mankind. The con- ditions on Pike's Peak are quite similar. Prof. Harrington recently excuse If for having kept a disreputable person in charge there on the ground that he could not get any more de- sirable individual to accept the'job. When the weather bureau was absorbed by the Depart- ment of Agriculture its observers were classi- fied under the civil service law. Thus their ay became from $1,200 to $1,600 a year. reviously they received only the remunera- tion of sergeants in the army—34 a month, with rations and clothing. During the recent plearo-pnenmonia excite- ment the agents sent out by the Department of Agriculture to inspect cattle and slaughter dis- eased animals, whether the owners were willing or not, found their occupation a very hazardous one. They were frequently received with‘piteh- forks, brickbats and bulldogs. Some of them were badly hurt. Consequently it was hard to procure veterinary physicians to do this work for salaries of $1,000 to $1,600 per annum. For the small wages paid the Navy Depart- ment has difficulty in retaining the experts employed to handie high explosives at the New- port torpedo station. ‘These men manufacture dynamite by mixing nitro-glycerine with in- fusorial earth. They turn in ordinary lathes chunks of nitro-glycerine, which is the most dangerous of all known explosives, into. shaj for loading shells, Also they chop it up with chisels. While undergoing these operations the stuff is kept saturated with water. If byan ac- cident it got a little dry it would blow the factory to pieces. SMALL POST OFFICES. It is in the Post Ofice Department that of- fices go begging by wholesale. Thero are thonsands of fourth-class post offices which it is hard to get anybody to accept. People are constantly sending in requests to the ‘effect that a postmaster shall be appointed at this or that out-of-the-way spot, but no one will take the place. There are ‘ninety-seven resigna- tions of postmasters now on file from the state of Washington alone, and there are applicants for only a few of these positions. Hundreds of post offices have to be discontinued every year, because nobody will take charge of them. There are 10,000 post offices whieh pay to the incum- bents leew than #20a year. . Whenever there i change of administration at Washington, resig. nations of postmasters pour in. Many of them notify the Postmaster General that they have sold ont to somebody else. Most small post offices aro in country stores, and the —_ proprietors dispose of the mail privileges, together with the good will and fixtures. Of courae, such a bargain is not recognized by the department, but the pur- chaser is likely to be appointed if the neighbors indorse his application. A fourth-class post- master gets no salary, but receives a percentage on his sales of stamps. He is entitled to 100 per cent on the first €50 worth of stamps per annum, 60 per cent on the the next $100 worth, 50 per cent on the next #200 worth and 40 per cent on all stamps sold over and above. Even the Department of State has paid offices in its gift which nobody actually ean be in- duced to take. Among these are consular agencies in such out-of-the-way parts of the world as Algiers, the Barbary States and Tur- key in Asia. ‘The incumbents are remunerated Because Americans will not accept these places they are held by natives of those countries. They are usually merchants who are willing to occupy the positions for the sake of the prestige which gives them influence and protection. ‘It often happens that one man will thus act as representative of half a dozen nations. Over his store are flung to the breezes perhaps the flags of Russia, France, Germany, England and the United States, while as many national coats-of-arms ate displayed above: his door. Thus sheltered, he is not likely to be ‘inter- fered with, and yisitora from abroad naturally go to his shop to buy, ‘The consular agency at Esineralda “in Ecuador is ‘at present: vacant, because there im usbod¥ who wants it It is ot persous, to'sérv@ as vico consuls, get no pay, except when the con- ent, Native storekeepers act in such cupacities commonly. ‘The regulation now is hey must get their remuneration out of 1 y; bné until very recently ongress made a regular annual appropriation | for the payment of “consular officers not citi- | zens of the United States.” A FEW ABANDONED RESERVATIONS, Among the 13,000 places in the gift of the Department of the Interior there are only a few [which go begging. These are the situa | tions of custodians of sbandoted military used for military posts, bave been ‘given up by the War Department. Tho Indians having become tractable and the country settled, there is no further use for the posts. Under such circumstances the reservations aro turned over to the Interior Desartment to be surveyed and sold. Congress has provided a small amount of money for taking care of them in the Interval, but it is, not nearly enough to round. needed to go Custodians are seo that dishonest persons do not walk away with the buildings _ piecemeal, This is a common form of theft where lumber is scarce, and the doors and windows, particu- larly of @ deserted house, quickly disappear. However, tho reservations frequently remain unguarded, because men are unwilling to ac- cept appointments which have no pay or rations attached to them. They are permitted to re- side in the buildings, and in some instances they do so, keeping an eye on things for the sake of obtaining the privilege of cultivating the area of tillable and well-watered land which is usually included within the limits of such gov- ernment property. It is somewhat hard to find suitable officers of the army and navy to occupy the positions of military and naval attaches to the United States legations m foreign countries, To satis- factorily fulfill the duties of these posts plenty of money is an essential requisite. A man at- tached in such @ capacity to the embassy at Paris or at London needs a private fortune to keep up with the social requirements of the situation, He must move in the most richly gilded swim and must meet all sorts of unusual expenses, It is expected of him that he sball live like a gentleman of rank and wealth, be- cause the attaches at the legations of other nations are rich and noble. A clear under- standing of these facts would lessen the num- ber of applications for these positions which are sent in by young officers to the Depart- ments of War and Navy at Washington. ‘They desire the appointments for the sake of the agreeableness of the duties and tho social prestige belonging to them, not realizing that they could not keep up appearances decently on their pay alone. SMALL SALARY FOR MUCH KNOWLEDGE. ‘There are places in several of the departments here which commonly remain vacant for a long time after the incumbents have died or re- signed. because persons competent to fill them cannot easily be found. Occasionally one reads in the Washington newspapers an advertise- ment issued by the civil service commission announcing that on acertain day a competitive examination will be held for the pur of filling a situation which requires familiarity with plane and spherical trigonometry, differ- ential calculus, the science of calculating the center of gravity of heavy ordnance, three or four European languages, typewriting and stenography. The fortunate candidate is promeed ox appointment at €900 or $1,000 a year. In tho Nautical Almanac office there are men who are employed to calculate parallaxes, the declination and right ascension of all stars at all hours, and all sorts of other such astronom- ical puzzles, They are paid from $700 to $900 Rt, annum. There is & situation at the Army ledical Museum which requires a thorough knowledge of both Chinese and Japanese, It was . for a long while before anybody could found to fill it. The salary of the incumbent has recently been raised from $1,000 to $1,200. If such posts were created specificall: for experts it would be necessary to attac respectable wages to them. But for economical reasons the government prefers to rate them simply as clerkehips. They are used as traps for highly skilled individuals who may chance to be compelled by want of money to drop into them. Once having done so it is difficult for them to get out. When they die or resign the traps are baited for fresh victims. A study of the present office-secking epi- demic affords fresh evidence of the surprising anxiety which men commonly exhibit to secure ee under the government at any sacrifice. yy will abandon occupations which yield good incomes in order to get hold of positions in Uncle Sam's gift which afford only starvation Even. the prospect of death does not deter them. The treasury has no trouble in employing capable agents to go to yellow fever porte, The place at plague-stricken Panama was vacant for a while not long ago, but it has been filled by a man who is willing to vegetate in that wretched spot and take his chances of surviving for a salary of $2,200 a year. CASSAVA FOR GLUCOSE. A Valuable Tropical Plant to Be Introduced to This Country. The cassava plant is to be introduced into Florida and California, Experts in such mat- ters assert that it will take the place of Indian corn as a source of starch for the manufacture of glucose. In tropical South Amorica, where it is native to the soil, it is utilized toa great extent for food. Long ago it was transplanted to the East Indies for the sake of its fleshy roots, which furnish the product called tap- ioca. The cassava is » straggling, crooked-growing shrub, which attains a height of six to cight feet. ‘The roots are bitter and contain a poison- ous substance, which is said to produce bydro- eyanic acid. By raxping tho roots toa pulp, placing them in coarse bags and subjecting them to heavy pressure, this poisonous juice i expelled. It has been used by the South Ameri- can Indians for poisoning their arrows. What remains of the poison in the pulp after it bas been pressed is got rid of by baking the ulp on heated iron plates. It is then broken into small pieces and stored for use. So vola- tile is the poisonous principle that, when the fresh root has been cut into slices and exposed for afew hours to the direct rays of the sun, cattle eat it with perfect safety. The Indians also partake of it after roasting it in hot ashes without any previous preparation. The starch is separated and prepared by heating on iron plates. Thus treated the grains burst and agglomerate in gum-like masses. ‘This is called tapioca. Brazilian arrowroot is the starcn deposited from the expressed juice when the Intter is allowed to settle. It is known as cassava flour or “mandioca meal.” An intoxicating beverage termed “piwarric” is made by chewing the dried cassava pulp and placing the masticated material in a vessel to ferment, after which it is boiled for use, A forthcoming report of the Department of Agriculture states that the boiling process dis- 1s the poisonous properties of the plant. ‘The Boiled juice forme the basis of « West Tadian dish called pepperpot, It is highty antiseptic, and meat which has been boiled in it is pre~ served for a much longer time than is practi- cable by any other culinary process. In South America a sauce called “‘arube” is made by boiling down the fresh juice before the starch is precipitated. This is_concentrated to a yel- lowish paste and seasoned with peppers. It is kept in stone jars and used as a relish with fish, “Tucupi sauce” is prepared from the juice after the starch haa been separated, boiled and seasoned with peppers and small fishes. It is used in a liquid form and tastes like an essence of anchovies. a gee At the Scented Court. The preseat craze for sweet scents, like all the other elegances, dates back to the days of courtly luxury in France. Mme. de Pompa- dour spent $100,000 for this part of her toilet each year, and the court of Louis XV was known as the “scented court.” Hoatesses of the grand entertainments informed their guests what particular perfume was to be em- ployed for scenting the rooms, that no other odors might be used by the guests. And at court a different perfume was prescribed for every day in the week. In the meantime the gospel of soap and water was unknown to the finest ladies, and the gorgeous palace of Ver- sailles did not contain a single bath room until one was arranged for the use Marie Antoi- nette. este eee Those Long Frock Coats. From Life. “Why, Weginald, dear boy, what iq tho mat- ter?” ’ “Oh, Awthur! I'm in the most terrible dis- twess.’ Here the ‘Proper Thing’ says fwock coats are to be made longer this spring. « If [ don’t follow the style at once mv weputation as the best dwest man at our club is gone for- ever, and if my new coat fs made any longer T'll walk on it and twip over it, and vulgar peo- ple will laugh and say unkind things, and— and—” (collapses completely). reservations. Many «uch reservations, formerly | “THE LATE GEN. BEALE Some Interesting Incidents in His Eventful and Gallant Career. } THE DECATUR MANSION, In Which He Died, Has a Historic Interest— Their Residence—Some Reflections on the Changes That Time is Constantly Making. N THE 2TH OF \\ March, 1820, the body \ of Commodore Stephen \ Decatur, the naval hero of that age, was carried out of the old mansion at thecorner of Jackson place and H street to its resting place in the Congressional ceme- tery, and from there it was removed to Phila- delphia, where, under # monumental tomb, it lies buried. ‘The pallbearers who officiatea on that occesion, #0 long ago, were Commodore Tingey, Commodore MeDonough, Commodore Porter, Commodore Rogers, Capt. Ballard, Lieut, McPherson of the navy and Gen. Jacob Brown and Gen, Jesup of the army. Seventy-three years afterward the body of another naval bero was borne across the threshold of the same historic mansion to its last resting place. Edward Fitzgerald Beale, the hero of another generation, will filla page in American history second to none of the naval heroes who have jevements are recorded in the remarkable | events occurring in the Mexican war and in the early history of fornia. His life vas full of adventure, in which heroism and remarkable endurance are mingled. ‘To save his comrades, under the command of Gen. Ki who were surrounded by the Mexican: educed to the last extremity, he volunteered with Kit Carson to penetrate the Mexican lines and carry intelligence of tne condition of Kearney’s com- mand to the fleet, under Commodore Stockton San Diego, and obtain relief. Such an hievement. accomplished by much suffering d danger, is almost without parallel in our history. Succeeding that feat of courage and endurance his ride from San Diego to Washing- ton alone, as bearer of dispatches, and though detained at the City of Mexico and at Vera Cruz several days he made that remarkable journey in forty-seven days. These events in ‘his life are part of the history of the country and are recalled by his death at this time. SUCCESSFUL IN HIS MILITARY CAREER. Gen. Beale was successful in his military ca- reer, limited as it was to subduing the Indians in the newly conquered territory of New Mex- ico and California, and in civil life as surveyor general of California and superintendent of In- dian affairs and as United States minister to Austria he maintained the honor and dignity of his eountry. He performed those duties to the entire satisfaction of, the government. Gen. Beale was essentially a Washingtonian. He was born here, most of his life was spent here and here he died. The memory of himand his boy- bood will be cherished by the few who remain. Even in that early period of his life he gave evidence of the pluck and endurance which made him a hero to his companions. His introduction to Gen. Jackson was charac- teristic of the boy and the President. Ned Beale, ashe wasto us then, wasfightinga pitched battle, in a retired place ‘then, in the grounds of the President's house with a local pugilist and ecole better of = meso p es feit, son ap) on the spot and 61 ht. spa appeared on the spt and stopped the Aight, and the old hero helped him on with his jacket, asked who he was and said: “I am Jackson; if you ever want anything come tome.” Years after he did go and told the general he was the boy who was fighting and reminded him of his promise. and the President, tearing a piece of paper froma letter before him, wrote on it to the Secretary of the Navy to ‘give this boy s midshipman’s warrant.” Col. Benton, in a in the Senate, relates the incident of Distinguished People Who Have Made It | receded him. His | | which makes Philadelphia cling to its white window shutters and marble steps without rail- ing and insist upon a daily deluge of them to the diagust of early risers, is losing its hold on the modern Baltimorean ‘and some very fine architectual displays are made in the residences recently erected. The old Holliday Street Theater, so long in the ion of our old friend John T. Ford, looks natural, but Ford’ Opera House on Fayette near Eutaw street ir the theater. Jefferson bas been playing the antideluvian Rip Van Winkle and is, 1 under starid, a good deal broken by his loss—an irrep- arable one—of his residence and its art and other treasures with which it was stored. Will- iam T. Walters, whose gallery is almost without arrival and contains so many gems of art, tells | me his taste and love of art has not been Jost in the advance of age. SOME REMAINS OF THE PAST. ‘There are some remains of the long past about Baltimore which I remember. “Jones’ Falls, | gives forth the same unpleasant odors and is as dirty asever. The streets in the lower part of the town remind me of Washington during the late unpleasantness, when its streets were | plowed by army wagons conveying sutlers | supplies and pies to the 300,000 men who Ixy before and around Washington for some years. And that reminds me of a story of Mr. Lincoln. | A gentleman came here during the war and ap- plied fora pass to reach Richmond, and was | [indorsed by friends of the President. Mr. | Lincoln said his pass would be uscloss, as it would not be respected, but the gentleman in- sisted on the favor being granted. The Presi- | dent threw up the window and said: “My dear sir, my pass would be of no use. There are | 300,000 men to whom I gave passes two years | | ago to go to Richmond, and they have not got there yet.” I met some old friends, and that was the «: dest part of my visit, who gather in small par-| ties and Iament these changes, and refused to be comforted for the loss’of Barnum’s and | | Guy's, and turn up their venerable noses at the brandy placed before them ain't like the “Gloria” or the “Umb: in a window near Tux Stax oflice,a few days ago, a portrait of Booth—the older, of course, there any other to me—which is remark- | able for its life-like resemblance to Booth as Ij knew him. I don't know who painted it, but it is perfect. Joux F. Coxe. Rieiecie ye Bast They Got the Gingham. From the Detroit Free Press. A man stood loafing idly in front of a crowded store where it was bargain day, when two! women stopped before him. They were al- ready so laden with bundles that it seemed im- possible that they could carry any more. One woman was wheeling a baby carriage. “There's that checked gingham,” the man heard her say; “it's the prettiest I've seen y for baby’s summer dresses.” “Well, let's go in.” “How can I take the cerringe through that crowd? It's no use trying to get anything if you've got todraga baby around with you.” The man loafing at the door took his hands out of bis pocket. , “Guess I might as| well tend baby as do any- thing else,” be drawled; “leave the baby with me and I'll take care of it while vou shop.” The women both looked at him curiously, then the mother of the baby eyed the gingham | in the window and that helped ber 10 accept his offer. “You can leave your bundles in the cab with the kid,” said the man, as he took the tongue of the perambulator and began to wheel the Duby back and forth. But neither of the women relinquished » single bundie. Indeed, the mother of the youngster at cnce took every package out of the little carriage and added it to the mass in her arms. The man smiled grimly as he heard her say to her friend: “He won't be likely to steal the baby, but I won't take sny chances with the would you?” “No, indeed.” ‘They were in the store long time. When they at last came out it was with « rush as if they feared to find their most valuable posser- sion gone. But no, it was laughing and smil- ing into the face of its male nurse, who was making all kinds of comic gestures to amuse it. “Thank you ever so much,” said the mother of the baby, fambling in her pocket book; “it's worth ter- ging! While the two stared open-mouthed at his presumption 8 carriage drove up, some ladies called to him and, touching his hat to the two Denies le’s volunteering to get relief for Kearne; army and speaks of him a# a youth born within sight of the Capitol and the descendant of two heroes, who had received medals and thanks of Congress for their services to the country. He telis the story of the achievement of Besle and Kit Carson most graphically. HIS HISTORIC MANSION, ‘The historic mansion where these two naval heroes died is one of the landmarks of Wash- ington, and remains amia the modern surround- ings a dignified reminder of the past. Ithas had many distinguished occupants, Edward Liv- ingston, when Secretary of State; Sir Charles Vaughan, British minister; Mr. Clay, when Sec- retary of State: Mr. Dallas, Mr. Van Bure, Mr. King of Alabama, Jas. L. Orr, when Speaker of the House of Representatives; Judah P. Benja- min, when Senator, and others. Gen, Beale told me of an incident which reads almost like a page from some romance. After he had purchased the house and it was being Tepnireda lady called one day and asked vo be allowed to go to the parlor on the second floor, and he escorted her through the bricks and mortar and other building materials the halls were filled with, and on reaching it she burst into'tears and said: “In this room I was mar- ried, and in this house I have some of the happiest days of my life, and I came here with the desire and intention of purchasing it. Tam Mrs. Dr. Barton, and as Cora Livingston I was married where we now stand, while my father wag Secretary of State. Mr. Josiah Quiney, in bis memoirs of Wash- ington, speaks of the Cora Livingston of that day as the belle of the period, and years after, when he met her as Mrs. Dr. Barton, time had robbed her of some of her attractions, and observing his surprise, ehe said: ‘Oh. you want to see the Cora Livingston you knew years ago. Come, I will show you the one you remember,” and taking him into the parlor pointed to'a full-length portrait taken in that carly day. She asked permission of Gen. Beale to visit the old house again when com- pleted and promised to come the ensuing win- ter, but during the fail she died. It is to be hoped that the spirit of improvement, that iconoclast, will stay hia hand ard leave the his- toric mansion to the more gentle touch of time. CHANGES IN BALTINORE. Lapent some few days in Baltimore recently, and there the destructive element of improve- ment has been busy. Barnum’s Hotel, famed throughout the world, has been obliterated and a very large building, one of the many erected in other cities by “the Equitable Insurance Company, fills its place. How many memories cluster around that spot, the good dinners, suppers, wines and above all the odors of the and “Umbrella” brandies, which for so many years satisfied the most fastidious palate, still linger in the memory of the few who remain, Guy's, whose canvas backs and terrapin are delightful reminders of that period, now gone forever, has been swept away and the huge post office rears its granite walls where all lovers of the good things of this life were wont to congregate. The mansions of Reverdy Johnson and Robt. Gilmor are being demolished to make room for a new court house. The debris which fills Monument Square in front of those grand old mansions must recall the appearance of that same locality, when in 18345 the Maryland Bank mob had possession of Mr. Johnson's house and burned in the square every article of furniture it contained, and began the destruc- tion of the house, when stopped by the mili- tary. The residences of John B. Morris and John Glen shared the same fate. The Bank of Maryland failed and these gentlemen were on the board of directors. and Mr. Jobnson was the counsel of the bank. The failure caused a great excitement, and it found vent in the destruction of the residences and property of these gentlemen, while the two directors in active business and who had really depleted the bank escaped in the excitement, WHERE ARTISTS WERE NURTURED. On the spot where the Baltimore Museum stood the Baltimore and Ohio railroad offices occupy building covering half the block on Calvert street. The Baltimore Museum was a sort of nurgery for histrionic talent, where Jack Owens, Charley Burke, Joe Jeierson, Jim Gal- laber, Mary Gaption, Mary Devlin, Edwin Booth's first wife, and others whose fame spread abroad were nurtuted. The old place has long since ded tothe demands of business, and when the old fay Olished scattered. ferbon aud Chari Joe Jefferson jalong remains of all who made that old play, famous. The company " was dea Jack Owepe starred ft oh sate Mary’ y Burke ndn ut Wallack’s termpads bud ihe’ soene in the ‘Lester Wallack in the play’ of Mary Nutley the memory of ber lingers with me yet. Westward the star of empire and improve- ment takes its way, and in Baltimore, as else- where, what I knew as rural xpots in the west and northwest are absorbed in the demand for resi- astonished shoppers, Colonel —— disappeared = | into bis own tipage, having just done ove of things is famous for doing and been of service at the same time. ——___es. From Puck. ‘Miss Holdover—“You are in trouble, dear. Let me sympathize with you.” ‘Mies Justout—“You can’t, possibly, dear. I have had three proposals and must choose be- tween them.” From Puck. * which sluggishly meanders through the city, | 7 | the lav ary goods, | “THE THIRD STORY BACK” sical pac Happs, were they? This little man and oman aud their big, blue-eyed baby in the ‘third story back?” Well, I think so! Although from the windows nothing could beseen but the chimney pots of numerous houses, «long, dirty alley, a darkey shanty and the overchadowing side of a lnrge hotel bristling with windows, Yes, they were happy. The air wax purer, the sun shone brighter out. side and baby boy gladdenea and made bright the inside. The father's face was bright wi | Morning. and was brighter «till when his voice | welcomed them at night. The little mother's face was sweet as she lifted it for the morning kiss, and sweeter as she heard the return of the well-loved footstep, a Baby boy was always bright and always sweet rom early mornin, nightfall came, thus the days we ry Bog ci DEIR _ Twas up two fights of rickety stairs that the little woman had to climb with the baby in ber | But mother loved him; her burden was | light! Sparse the furniture whe reached! No matter, that! fey toy hn ove and filled the big, bare room with happiness, Yet this contented little woman had known better times. No! not better, but more prosperous times! Her father had been a large nd owner; she had been raised in wealth and luxury. But love had come into her life, and, leaving all fear bebind, she had put ber band lovingly, trustingly, into that of the little man now at her side, and had gone out into the untried world. ‘Since then two years have rolled by! Happiness is hers, for love is still with her; and yet she misses the kind mother, h father, the dear brothers and sisters, the companions of her childhood’s days. But sbe would not exchange her noble basband, her big, baby boy, for all her father's wealth! Two more Fears pass away, and we still find our litt: man and woman “in the third but the door is open between and iew is no longer limited to the nd clonds. He is strutting about the roome, a miniature man with hands in the pockets of his first trousers, while ever and anon peeping over the side of the cradle to look at the bundle within. A little brother, his counterpart, lies there, all snugly tucked Up Warm and cozy, while at the cradie side site the little mother with her sewing, and one foot on the rocker. She looks a trifle pale. but the sweet, happy look is there, in spite of the still, deep yearn- ing which has added asad wistfuluess to her face. Bat times are prosperous, and she is looking forward to a home of her own. Two more years go by, and now “the third story back” is only remembered as the scene of their early but happy days. Baby boy and little brother romp and play around a pretty cottage on the outskirts of the city, adding the giow of health to their elready beautiful fearres. The little mother looks stronger, less pale, but the sad, sweet look remains, for way down, very far down in her beart, is the one little spot which even her noble buéband and lovely boys cannot fill—the longing for her chiid- hood ‘Two yeacs more and “little sister” is with them, a pet anda plaything for all Agains third’ story back ix the scene of happy daysy for 4s a nursery it rings with the merry shouts of the little dear ones, No trials bevond thore of daily life on m moderate income have come tothe mother; her husband is devoted; her children are beautiful and loving: ber home isbappy, and day by day the little hoard is wing. But the first and day is here! . seven years old, starts for school with mother fond kiss upon ‘his lips, his books and lunch basket in lis bands. ‘Three o'clock. 4 o'clock, the little man has not returned! Five 0’ still no baby boy. Six o'clock. and the father comes, only to rush out inquest of the boy. All night long anxious sad-eyed mother waite for the coming. All night long the anxions, wan-featured father searches for the lad. The bright sun rises, but with it comes no hope to the socroming pac to ents. The father ever and anon comes ask tidings, but to bring none. The long day 1s wearing to a close when « carriage drives up to the door. A gentleman's voice is heard asking if child te absent from a The ttle mother hears encouraging words, springs up hurriedly, rushes to the hall, only to ind her strength jeaving ber, aud she falls fainting into the arms of—ber father, He tenderly kisses the sad face of the child be Still loves and in the depth of his beart has sits gazin; sodear tohim. Gradually, like tired mfant, the eyelids open and close, a smile creeps over the pretty mouth, as the lips murmar “ ‘ye The old man is on his knecs in a moment, while words follow each other in rapid succession np he pleads with his child for the love he cast away: tells of the miserable years which have without her, begs forgiveness, and to ve them blotted from their minds. How familiar the voice of the dear fatber as he tells of the home which bad sheltered her childhood, of the mother whose heart was bleeding for a sight of her child, of the brothers and sisters who longed for her companionshin. And the moments fir along. while in the surprise of the mecting his errand of mercy was forgotten. He had seen » child knocked down by careless driver, had picked him up, taken him in his carriage to dences, and latterly the conservative element, j having the measles. his own home, cailed his family physician and had cared for the child, It was only at alate hour he had discovered the home of the bor, and had come, as toa stranger, to tell news of the child, although’ the physie cian would not allow him to be moved fow some time to come. ‘The little mother, prostrated by grief and joy, lies quietly on the couch with baby sister in her arms, while kneeling by her side, with, one arm around little brother, is the old ‘man. Such is the sight which meets’ the little man's Cyon as he sadly, hopelessly returns once more, The little woman, bearing the well-loved footstep, finds strength for © moment; lays baby sister in ber father’s arms; springs to her feet, rushes to the strong arms which bave sheltered ber all these years, crying. “The! child is found; he's safe at home!” The old man rises from his knees, extends his band, saying: “Yes, another child is found, and with God's help shall never be lost again. radar -etsatabeg Would See Her Later, From the Minneapolis Trine, Coming over from the East Side the other day a University car was filled with all sorte and conditions of passengers, conspicuous among them being a crowd of jolly University studenta, Opposite the boys ent a hard-featured female, evidently on her way from a meeting at the exe position, Next her eat a bright-faced woman talking with a friend. Naturally the talk drifted upon the subject of the revival mecte ings, and the friend asker have been to some of th not,” th and as let her off the car. featured female and leaning forward, «aid in solemn tones, had time! Will you bave time to ¢o The car had stopped, and as the lady reached the door she hurriedly retorted, “It Y have I'll see you dater.” stepped into the street perfectly conscious of having been able to squelch awoman who didn't know encugh to mind her own business. 00 je Did Keep Sun, From the Chicago Record. Prince Curly it's papa is ina far country, At first he wasn’t very sick and thought he wouldn't need any nursing, but one afternoon a telegram came, The Prine ama had gone to the city, and when she came from the train he met her at the door very white and excited. “I ean't think thing but just dead? But the inside of alarming as the outed Went away on the night train he turned for ation to his Dorothy, He discovered that 4 ber violently, and beguiled ber into x all possible occasions to whisper the her ea: 5 o'clock next morning a small voice callea at of dreamland. ow, Dorothy, tell me a hundred stories,” So she told kim «ix. “Pringe.”; avid the guardian angel that night, GB IMstn't wako Dorothy Up 0 early to- niortow metning, but keep eull and let ber alee legram wasn't balf 20 nd when his mamma ‘eM enid the Prince at the breakfast table. a keep still, but I did everything I coul of that wasn't neiny to make her wake aj jae that the clock w. th And J hoped all Wake her when it ‘Tipped up. From the Chicago Inter. in. Linda (singing)—“I stood on the bridge at midnight.” Hetty—“Land sakes! Tt's no wonder sach a awful cold, child.”