Evening Star Newspaper, July 1, 1893, Page 7

- D C, SATURDAY, JULY 1. 1893—SIXTEEN PAGES, q WHIMS OF FASHION. ———— The Raiment Which Makes the Sum- mer Girl Glorious. SOME PRETTY COSTUMES. Fabrics Which Can Be Made Up Attract- ively—Utilizing Old Lace—Girls Who Can Go in Pairs to Advantage — How to Har- monise the Beauties of Both. ie Correspondence of The Evening Star. New Yorx, June 30, 1898. ERY DISTRACTING « little boned bodice which fits the bust per- feetly, and has a belt an inch below the bust line, but no farther. ‘The presence of this boned waist need not be suspected. The suit isin two pieces. The upper has a deep col- lar that is a modifica- tion of the usual sailor, ~~ and which stands full on the shoulders and shows the throatto s Point pretty well down in front. The suit fits closely as far as the little boned waist goes. ‘There it is finished by a band of braid to match what ison the collar. A skirt fastened to this \@ falls to just above the knee. It isa little longer on one side than on the other, and that side is looped up. The effect is quite classic, especially if you sacrifice to beauty and let the draping be really classic; that is, have the skirt come well below the knee on one side and be draped well above on the other. Under all you wear knit tights, the same color as the body of the suit, These tights are a full suit and cover the whole body. If you want to protect the throat the tights can be fin off with a close collar and have an anchor embroidered ou the ebest. In that case the collar of the outside piece can turn away very low. The tights in this case should contrast with the rest of the suit. A rich brown over. and a clear cream for | the tights is daring. but if you are well made it will be a thing of beauty. Of course, if you area little stout better select a dark color all through, letting the tights have no ornament- ing except the anchor or device on the breast and a band or so about the collar. The over part of the suit is tobe of the same color as ‘the tights, only elaborately treated with braid of some" bright shade. By the way, a gold braid is shown—pretty expensive—that will not tarnish in the water. Used sparingly it has a good effect, but in spite of its durability it does not look ax if it were meant for bath suit use and so misses the charm of “suitability.” SEGLIGE, WITH LACE Vest. An empire model for wear on high and dry land is the pretty reception dress of the initial picture. It is made of corn-coloed broche sill, having a design in lavender and blue floweret, while the ribbon and surah employed in trim ming it are corn colored. like the ground of the silk. The circular beil skirt is lined with silk or satin, is tight fitting over the hips and the fullness is Inid in pleats in the back. The inside of the skirt has a flounce of silk edged With Ince. The bodice fastens in back, and the mode of closing is hidden by an mt of Ince. The larger collar of corn-colored surah is turned in of one side and the other laps over and fastens to the bodice beneath a bias fold. ‘The lace collar is op:n it. the back and hooks with tiny hooks and eyes after the is closed. Around the waist there is a corn-colored faille ribbon belt, which fastens in the back beneath a bow. The'sleeves are full and puffed over a tight lining and are trimmed with lace. The materials required are seven to eight vards of crepe broche, three-quarters of yard of surah and two yards of ribbon. In the first full column picture there is shown a lovely neglige jacket of trimmed with awide vest of lace ruffles and Pale blue ribbon. It is lined with batiste and is close fitting in the back. but the fronts are loose. The vest 18 sewed to the right front and hooks over and the ribbon is fastened to the fronts, thus keeping them in place. Four ruf- fies of Ince, each ten inches in width, are re- quired for the vest. The standing collar is fin- ished with lace and there is a small sailor collar of cashmere, as shown in the illustration. The sleeves are gathered at the wrist and finished ‘with a lace frill. OF PLAID SILK WITH LARGE REVERS. Following there is a pretty plaid silk blouse. It is made over a tight lining and the fronts are very long, overlap each other, besides being turned back to form revers. They meet in buck in @ rosette, making the whole blouse of a very airy and youthful appearance. ‘There are puffed sleeves with a long euff, and a fold of tulle or lace is worn about the neck. If inyour wardrobe you have an old-fash- foned yoke collar of “Irish lace” now is the time to use it with advantage. Lay it on either chiffon or silk, though the former isa little couler. If the lice is very yellow, select a delicate shade of rose or green, since white will make the lace seem only soiled and yellow will Rot match the old color of the mesh. These collars come usually with only «cord at the neck. Supply the necessary choker effect with chiffon or witha band of ribbon to match the chiffon used. The collar was meant in the old days to open in front, but you will have it open in the back. Now add all around ite edge a series of ruffles of chiffon. to make the collar as much of a cape as you like. The raffles must be cither selvage edge or double. ‘The selvage edge in some goods is very pretty, ours, TUN Very narrow ribbon along This ribbon ean match or ‘ast with the chiffon. At that part of the that is at the shoulder you mav elaborate your effect by special fullness of the outlining ruties. Indeed, even a small coilar of good heavy lace may be made the foundation for qaite an elaborate shoulder affair, and yoy may be sure one that will at the first ‘look prove it- self not “bought.” Ready-made things #0 varied and so beautiful that it is ditfic 1 get up something stili more dainty and which shall bear the mark of being better than ready made. But this little affair will if nicely managed. great deal this year. giris are chuns, les suit F PAIRED DECORATIVELT. mere detail. The one awful catastrophe to hap- ‘to a girl socially is to be left alone. Now, Fis only'in books that a girl bas always a host of men at her call, and the average girl has to scheme many times. If two girls can keep uj fn appearance of being fond of each other, and going toa great many places together because they like it, it makes things easier. If, besides, they are deccrative in combination, they are actually in demand. To have two very pretty girls in your parlor who look well together and are not making an awful fuss grabbing the men is worth while, and to have two giris who know enough to get to each other and look pleased whether ther are or not when they left to themselves is much preferable to the girl who is fairly popular and who, in similar circum- stances, seeks her chaperon and sulks. To be decorative in combination the girls should con- trast in colorand be almost of aheight. A very popular and beautiful pair this season are excellently set off one by the other. They are of an age or they look 80. Oue isa chestnut brunette, with luscious color and fuil lips and drooping eyes, this with a fine tall figure and languid manners. The other is a pale blond, with clean-cut features, cold bright biue eves, a “chiseled” mouth anda swift and slightly cruel wit. You see these girls could never in- terfere with euch other and they actually set cach, gther off. Rumor says they bate, cach other. but y know enough to stay chums, though. ANOTHER COUPLE. The second couple in the last illustration wear each a pretty model of « round waist. The first is made of canary-colored India silk and trimmed with bands and rufiles of the same material embroidered with vari-colored silks. The front has a large plastron trimmed with three rows of embroidered silk aud finished with wide ruffles that are round in back, but form points in front, the right side lapping over. ‘The waist is tightly fitting and fastens in the center, the plastron hooking over. The sleoves aro very full at the top and are gar- nished with embroidered silk. The belt is loosely folded silk. ‘The other waist is in pale pink surah, garnished with rufiles of the same Piped with red. The fullness is laid in pleats in front and back at the waist. Around the top are three ruffles, each six inches wide, overlap- ping each other. The sleeves have a large puff finished with two ruffles and a very long tight cuff. The waist hooks at the left side. The belt is pink surah, also piped with red. ooo ONE OF YOUNG TOM CORWIN’S PRANKS How He Rid His Sister of the Attentions of an Obnoxious Suitor. From the Courier-Journal. Among the many interesting things that were printed in the Louisville Journal of Monday, July 17, 1865, is the following amusing story, in which the famous Tom Corwin figured. Every one has heard of the- eloquent, pathetic and humorous stump orator of Ohio. He was pronounced by Henry Clay—a most competent authority—to ve the finest stump speaker he had ever heard. He carried his love of fun into every department of life. In theprivate circle, where he knew every person, and where he un- bosomed himself fully, he was a most delight- fal conversationalist. . “I do not know,” saysa writer in the old Louisville Journal of the date above referred to, “that he now. as age and infirmities are creeping on, induiges in the humorous proclivi- ties 80 much as he used to do, but some twenty years ago he used to tell with great gusto the following story: “In early life—so early that I cannot remem- ber the removal—my father pulled up stakes and, earrring with him the household goods, went from Bourbon county, Ky., where I was born, to Ohio. Notwithstanding a rough-and- tumble struggle with the world, I had a hard time to get on, owing toa numerous and rap- idly increasing family. Well, family matters had not much improved when I reached my thirteenth or fourteenth year. “ ‘At this time there lived in the neighbor- hood a young man named Pickering. He had inherited a well-stocked farm, was good look- ing, and made a strong profession of religion. This latter qualification caused him to find pe- culiar favor in the eyes of my father, who al- ways was blinded by professions of extra piety. “This fellow had a strong hankering ufter one of my sisters, who was a very pretty girl. To her he was peculiarly distasteful. She soemed always annoyed at his presence. Yet he was ever at her side. She dared not dismiss him entirely, for fear of the paternal anger. ‘Things went on this way for a year or two, and ge I partook largely of my sister's hatred of him I resolved to get rid of him in some way. I cast about some time for a plan, but nothing gave me the slighest hope of being successful. “‘At last, returning home late on¢ night from the mill, I found the family at their nightly devotions. “Passing by the windows of the rooms in which they were assembled, I saw that Pickering was there,and pretty soon dis- covered that he was nodding, and finally his head dropped. Now was my opportunity. I stole slyly into the hall, and, reaching the ball door, which was slightly ajar and close, b which Pickering was “on d_ knee,” reached in and quickly pulling his chair from under him, he rolled heavily, a3 a sound sleeper would, upon the floor. The noise alarmed all. ‘The old gentleman stopped in the midst of his almost interminable prayer and saw the position of Pickering. All the family laughed outright; even my mother smiled. “Pickering endeavored to pick himself up as rapidly as possible, but he had touched the old man upon his tender point. It was evident, from his rubbing his eyes, that he had slept un- der the old gentleman’s ministrations; and had not my father a reputation far and wide for the strength and fervency of bis ministrations, and was not Pickering bis professing brother? Slowly, yet most dignitiedly. did the old gentle- man approach him. ‘Begone, hypocrite!” he cried in thundering tones. “Never enter my house again.” “Pickering was thunderstruck. He felt that he could make no apology which would not add to the insui lehad no suspicion of the extra force which had aided bim in his fall He at once found his hat, took up his line of march, and, completely ‘crest- fallen, passed by me as I stood in the shadow of the porch. “«*At asuitable time I entered and got my sup- per, was told by my brother in hurried whispers what had happened and then I stole off to bed, affecting ignorance and laughing most heartily, as I ensconced myself between the sheets, at the complete success of my plan. Next day I cautiously imparted my secret to my sister. She was in her own room at the time and threw herself upon the bed and rolled in agonies and convulsions of laughter. She bad been emancipated forever from an he old gentleman did not eat the real state of the facts for fully twenty years, but when he did he laughed heartily." Hau VEGETABLE SICILIaN HatR RENEWER has Testored gray hair to {ts original color and pre- Vented baldness tm thousands of cases. It will do S010 jou. THE CITY THEATERS. Some Memories of Them Extending Back Fifty Years. A DISASTROUS YEAR. ‘When Forrest Played “Richelieu” and “The Giadiator” in One Night and Yet Couldn’t Draw—Mention of Some Naval and Marine Disasters Suggested by the Victoria's Loss. ee RECEIVED A NOTE from an unknown cor- respondent signed “Thespian® rather too positive in its tone to be considered polite, which I might justly decline to answer, but as [desire to preserve for Tar Evexixa Star Y its reputation for reliability I will over- look the oracular tone of the note and repeat that there was'a theater on 6th strect next to the St. James Hotel, as I stated in my article last Saturday. ‘The building was known for] years as ‘Hughes’ warehouse,” and was built by Mr. James Hughes, whose place of business was in the same building now occupied by Mr. N. H. Shea—the same store, I think. The manager of this theater was Mra. Timm. The style of performances was principally vaude- illos and musical farces, but T have seen an admirable rendering of “Romeo and Juliet,” aboard was of the most lavish and clegant char- acter. Everything was to be had abvard but water, and-in its absence the substitute for it, cansed some re~ champagne and other wines, WHAT CAUSED A CHALLE NGR. By the bye, the debate on the Collins sub- sidy led to the challenge which passed between John C. Breckinridge and Francis B. Cutting of New York. The two gentlemen Gienppenred, ridge going to Silver Spring, the resi- dence of Mr. Francis P. Blair, ai i sought the seclusion of some friend’s country residence. 1 visited Silver Spring while Breck- ingidgo was the of Mr. Blair and wit- nessed some practice, in which he never aimed above the knee, nor at a more vital part than the arm. Subsequent events, then undreamed of, brought Gen. John C. Breckinridge aguin to'Silver Spring. During the war he was there i ivisibn and recognized the oid hov- pitality of Mr. Blair by protecting # from the devastating tendencies of war. Again, in 1867, on his return from Europe he was & guest at Silver Spring. When Gen. Breckin- Tidge withdrew from the Senate he took his last breakfast in Washington with me, and when he returned from Europe he was again my honored guest. What changes had been wrought. Iwas cautioned in 1861 by the War Department against entertaining my friend, and in 1867 he was entertained at the Execu- tive Mansion, Jouy F. Corns. Be ee Written for The Evening Star. A Dream. I saw you in a dream last night Just as I see you now; ‘The same sweet radiance of light Was brightening your brow; As now abont your head they twine ‘These locks were coyly twining, And not jess bright than now they shine ‘These sun-lit eyes were shining. I saw you—tn my dream last night— Step softly to my aid ‘Upon my arm a touch as light As 'twere a moonbean’s glide. ‘You spoke, and O ’twas like a tune with Mrs. Malinda Jones as Romeo and Mrs. Burke as Juliet, and the “Lady of Kyons,” with Mrs. Jones as Claude Melnotte and Mrs. Burke as Pauline. I speak ex cathedra on this performance, for I supplied the uniform for Claude when ho re- turned from the battle fields to “outbid you sordid hucksters” and win Pauline. My military ardor having oozed, as Bob Acres’ courage, out at my fingers end I contributed my staff uniform, epaulette and all to deck the success- ful soldier Claude. SOME NOTABLE PERFORMANCES. In connection with that period, or about that period, I find Charley Burke in 1849-60 played avery lengthy engagement at the “Adelphi” (now Young’s coachmaking establishment) and played the same night Grandfather Whitehead and Mose in Chanfran’s ‘Glance at New York.” What an actor he was! At about the same time Mrs, A. Drake, a grand actress, played an en- gagement, supported by Mr. 1." Roberts, an excellent actor, who played the Kingin that great cast of “Hamlet” mentioned last week. Mr. Roberts is now, or was some time ago, pro- fessor of elocution in one of the colleges in Pennsylvania, Mrs. Drake married Capt. G. W. Cutter, who wasn clerk in the Treasury Department and a poet of some merit, whose “Song of Steam” and “E Pluribus Unum” were deemed worthy of place in the “Poets of America,” edited by Charles A. Dana. Between the play and the farce Mra. Drake, for her benefit, recited Capt. Cutter’s poem of “E Pluribus Unum.” Julia Dean was the bright particular star at that time, and a compli- mentary benefit tendered her at that theater led to the publication of a scurrilous paper here, “The Scourge.” Richard Wallach was then United States marshal and he had the courage to prosecute the persons engaged in the publication and circulation of it, and the charge of ige Crawford was so severe and comprehensive that it ended the publication here since then of any such literature. The agent was sentenced to months’ imprison- ment and fine of $500 and to stand committed until it was paid, which was equivalent to im- prisonment for life. After he had served his term in jail he was released from the fine. The real authors of the libel escaped. These events crowd upon my memory, recalled by the men- tion of Julia Dean and that benefit. A BAD YEAR FOR THEATERS. ‘The year John E. Owens first appeared on the stage, 1841, was avery disastrous one to the theaters, the Park, Chatham and Bowery closed and were turned into concert saloon: and here Forrest played an engagement at th National, under the Management and support of Miss Manier, to almost empty benches, and to draw played “Richelieu” and the "“Giad- ator” on the same night. ‘Then Inssestro, who was for years afterward in the Department of State, played an engagement, but failed to | P’ draw, though a capital actor and profound Shakespearean schalar. The theater was then turned over toa circus company, which pro- duced “Mazeppa,” and Otto Matty gave a se- ries of chariot races and the games of encient Rome. Nothing drew, however, the panic was overpowering and all the banks’ in the coun- try suspended. found a few days agoa memento of John Howard Payne. In 1850 Miss Jacques appeared at the Adelphi in series of scenes from operas “Norma,” “‘Sonnambula,” &c., and Howard Payne wasan enthusiastic admirer of ber and wrote some admirable notices of her perform- ance for the National Intelligencer. Sho had very fine soprano voice of grent compass. and Mr. Payne's notices of her were justly complimentary and written con amore and with taste and judgment SOME NAVAL DISASTERS. In the article in Tae Stan of last Saturday on naval disasters no mention was made of the Joss of the Hornet, the Levant and the Somers. On board the Hornet were some residents of Washington, among them Parson Andrew J. Watson and’ Midshipman Philip Riley. There could be no cause assigned for this disaster, as not a soul escaped. Tho Hornet was seen from one of the West India islands and suddenly disappeared, leaving not a vestige. The Levant sank in the China sea, I think. Strange, a ship of the same name in the British navy sank. The ill-fated brig Somers, from whose yard arm Midshipman Philip Spencer and three of the crew were hung by Capt. Slidell Mackenzie on a charge of mutiny, was capsized off Vera Cruz. Very few, if any, of thoseaboard escaped. The Inte Judge Drake was a midshipman aboard the Somers.and while at Havanna ho was transferred to another United States vessel, only a short time before the disaster. It was on the same vessel (the Somers) Commodore Young lost his two legs by the recoil of agunin firing a sa- Inte. Ill Iuck seems to have attended this ves- sel, and Judge Drake told me it was a great relief to be exchanged. There was a remarkable disaster occurred to one of our naval vessels off the const of Chile some few years ago. A tidal wave. carried the vessel bodily six to eight miles into the interior of the country. I think but few lives were lost, but the veusel had to be abandoned after strip- ping her of her armament. This incident was not unlike the destruction of the Nipsic at Samoa. The loss of the Central America and the troops she was carrying to California and the sinking of another California steamer, under command of Capt. Herndon of the navy, may be recailed to add to these disasters. THE LOSS OF TRE PRESIDENT. The loves of the President with Rev. George Cookman, so well known hero as one of the most eloquent pulpit orators, and Tyrone Power. the celebrated comedian, occurred in 1841. ‘The steamer disappeared and no trace of her was ever found. Lord Fitzroy Lenox was on board the President, and it is said his father, the Duke of Ricnmond, walked for days from sunrise to sunset the London road to obtain news of the President. The caprizing of the yncht built by Wm. T. Garner of New York, designed to beat all pre- viously built vessels’ of her class, was a very sad affair. Iknew Mr. Garner. who was uni- versally popular in New York, where he was the head of the great inanufacturing establishment bearing his name, and his fate caused the deep- est sympatiy. The yacht had an enormous spread of canvas, and a friend of mine, Mr. Allen, who was a designer of yachte, spoke of it as unsafe, and said the first blast of wind en- countered would upset her, as she was top- heavy. He advised Mr. Garner to reduce her canvas. When finished, with Mrs. Garner and some friends, ladies and gentlemen, he went on board and had ail her sails set for a short cruise round the harbor of New York. I think the yacht bad hardly left the wharf when a puff of wind filled her enormous sails and ehe capsized. ‘The guests, among whom was Miss May, the danghter of the late D. May, escaped, but’ Mr. Garner and his wife were drowned. It seems a heavy piece of furniture, which had not been secured, fell on Mrs. Garner and she could not be extricated, and her husband shared her fate. ‘The loss of Mr. and Mrs. Garner saddened New York society as long as any event could sadden it. The loss of the Arctic of the Collins line of ma other “tragedy of the sea” which cansed the profoundest sympathy, Mr. Collis lost, I think, his whole family, and from that time he dated the misfortunes which fell upon him and the line ho bed built, winch was unsurpassed at that time. The Baltic of the same line was brought here that Congress might see what ships were being built, for which they usked a subsidy. The Baltic lay be- fore Alexandria, and the entertainment given From some cherubic chorus, A whispered song that stole too soon Back to the still heaven o'er us. And then I thought you smiled, even—yes— As now I see you smiling, ‘With a half-mantied tenderness. Your presence sweet beguiling Held me in thrall, a hidden might Made my charmed spirit bow; Tioved you in my dream last night— O let me love you now! CARLETON EMERSON SNELL. ‘Washington, D. C. —____-+e+-___. ART IN COOKERY. How the Appetite May Be Tempted by Artis- tic Garnishing. From the Philadelphia Press. The scientific branch of cookery comprises the devising of dishes and sauces. ‘The artistic branch constitutes the art of garnishing, and this plays. most important part in the outcome of the kitchen, as, by means of it, dishes please the eye before they please the palate, First impressions go a great way, and when one sense is captivated by an agreeable and inviting ap- pearance the dish must be bad, indeed, which fails to stand the more searching ordeal of taste. Besides, people who snffer from jaded appetites have a better chance of eating their dinner when the dishes which are put before them are pleasant to the sight, ‘Art, however, is nota thing to be taught. You may show a man how to mix colors, but you cannot teach him how to use them. I will only attempt to explain that what in cookery is meant by garnishing is not the traditional parsley of the cook, and I will deseribe what cooks, properly #0 calied, mean by garnishing, of what gurnishes are made, and how the dif- forent materials are prepared for the purpose. ‘The combinations of these things are too infi- nite to allow of more than a very general expo- sition. They wholly depend on the talent, skill and taste of the operator. The one and great thing to avoid as much as possible is the using for purposes of garnishing thige which are not catal “Garniture,” which is rendered into English by “garnish,” may be defined ns all that is added to the chief material, which constitutes the dish. ‘Thus tomato sauce in a dich of cut- lets or fried potatoes around a steak are gar- nishes. These things fall naturally under two great heads—the hot garnishes, which accom- pany every savory dish, and the cold garnishes, which go with cold meats, salads, &c. Vegeta~ bles are the chief material of hot garnishes. By fudicious combinations they will produce very pretty effects of color. For instance, turnips, jotatoes, artichokes, cauliflowers, celery and vegetable miatrows will give whites; carrots, to- matoes, beet roots supply the reds; trufiles and mushrooms, blacks; and then there are the end- lest shades of green given by beans, peas, sproute, cucumbers, asparagus, dc. To be used, all such vegetables as will admit of it must be cut into uniform shapes by what are called vegetable cutters, the successful use of which requires «ome practice. Vegetables are usually cut before cooking. If preferred they may be cut with a knife. They shonld always be hot when sent to the table. Besides the cut vegetableo, mashed potatoes are also used for garnishing. Aftor being mashed shape in various forms, or they may be made into eroquets. Bread sippets, which are used to ‘gan many dishes, should be invariably fried in butter, and fried toa uniform color all over. They ought to be cut out of stale bread, and should be of the same shape and thickness, Force meat, quencll i eggs, olives, &e., aro all used in garni the matter of garni is a wider scope fo . meats may bo ornamented with joliy, parsley or with curled garden cress, whivh, while it resembles parsley, has the advantage of being eatable when raw. But itis with salads the greatest taste may be displayed, and patience, too, will be required, ——— MISTAKE, He Mistook = Promising Client for a Map Peddler. From the New York Advertiser. “T['m a poor book agent,” began tho tall stranger ashe entered a well-known lawyer's office in the Potter building and placed a parcel ona friendly chair, “But I have—* “Don't want any books,” growled the coun- sellor with searcely a glance at the man. “But, sir, Ihave given up that line and am now selling maps. Still that is—" “Never uso ‘em.don’t want ‘em, wouldn't have ‘at any price.” “Sir, map selling is not—” “Now, see here,” exclaimed the Inwyer wrathfully, whirling’ around in and rising from his revolving chair and facing the persistent fellow, “I wish you to distinctly understand that I will not buy books, maps, porous plasters, liver pads, stationery, eye shades, mustache curlers, corkscrews, needle threaders, patent buttons, invisible ink, corn eradicators, popu- lar songs, photographs nor paper weights— nothing whatever, see? Now, get out.” “Very well, sir, I will leave; but before taking my departure let_me say this: Map selling was not my business with ydu. I mentioned that only by way of introducing myself. My in- tention was to retain you ax counsel in a con- test of the will of my anut, who died recently. leaving an estate in Putnam county valued at some $75,000, but that is past,” and he gath- ered up’ his parcels, turned on his heel and walked away. “Hold on there!” cried the lawyer as soon as he recovered from the shock. “I beg your o— But his speech was cut short by the clash of the elevator gate in the hall. ‘The tull stranger was gone. Volapuk Ne: From the London Telegraph. Many persons will perhaps breathe a sigh of relief on hearing that Volapuk is doomed, in France at least. French business men will have none of it. Its most energetic apostle and propagator has been sent away from the Paris headquarters of the Volapukists, and is now filling an important post as professor of German in a provincial colleg ‘This being the case, the members of the French Association of Volapukists have decreed the dissolution of their society. Nevertheless, they had at one time great hopes of success, and their strange jargon was almost elevated for a while to tho ranks of a fashionable fad. Lectures in the new language, which was to undo all the damage wrought by the Babel affuir long ago, were attended by numerous tudents of both sexes, and small sheets in the range compound of tongues were disseminated every week among adepts and the general public, By degrees the craze died out, and the num- ber of Volapukiata in Paris dwindled toa few enthusiastic persons full of the sentiments pe- culiar to thore who cling through thick and thin to lost causes. DELIGHTFULLY COOL AND REFRESH- NG, Horsford’s Acid Phosphate, With ice water and sugar. |THE BLACK PEARL. R. ENOCH BLACK, swollen with wealthand the pride of accumula- tion, invited a well- authenticated English correspondent of his house to spend Sunday with him at his country seat at Ovington. The well-authenticated cor- respondent hesitated and suggested other engagements, as if he had not adroitly sought the bidding, and then accepted, thus giving to courtesy the zest of the compliment. And Mr. unfeigned onthusiarm. “But what a Re ng * a - the "What do you moan be that? No one is at it with abammer, fs there? Why this may have veen worn by the Queen of Sheba for aught we know.” “Possibly it was,” retorted Auckland coolly. “But that doesn't affect the mysterious chance which always exists of its destruction. Pearls explode. Didn't yon know it? Why, that is what I etarted to tell you about those rare evs which once with the diamonds honor of being heirlooms ih our family. Let me eee, was it my great other? No, my Lady Catherine, of course. “It waa the eve of the majority ball of her eldest son, Chauncey, whose name I also bear. She went to the secret crypt in the strong room to get the pearis, mest ornaments for such = function. She opened the oaken casket, and. behold! there, where the milky necklace should lay, was alittle gray, feathery ash and the golden wire and links, The had_ burst, Black went down ,to his home Friday night, prepared to stay there and get things in readi- ness for the distinguished arrival on the follow- ing afternoon. It is said that married people grow alike with years. But this condition occurs, it seems, when there has been constant attrition, as two stones will polish each other or as pebbles become rounded in the brook. Now, in their poorest days little Mrs. Black had never dared resist her burly husband and prosperity had deadened her with the bludgeon of surprise. ‘There are couples that become separated in the race for success, and while one reaches the goal and finds it a very every-day affair. after all, the other remains hopelessly entangled amid doubts and fears. Such pair ruled over the Black houschold like an active and passive verb in asingle sentence. The master had achieved and was well satisfied that he had merely at- tained his due; the mistress was spent and was making her bed among the brambles. So when Enoch Black announced that his ticular friend, Mr. Chauncey Auckland of Eng- land, an “oGt-and-ont swell and » hummer, too,” would be down on the morrow, and that they must all “dust pretty lively, for be kn what was what, and no mistake,” Mrs. Blac faintly smiled—an expression, by the way, as devoid of comfort as a martyr’s resignation. Her husband understood this _ peculiarity through that intuition which is such an aid of marital infelicity. He straightway grew angry and sought an explosion in argument. Craving subject of common irterest for disagreement * he asked fiercely. wered her mother, faintly but no longer smiling. ‘And haven't I told you that you must watch over the child? Don't you know that she is young and foolish and that designing people know it, and know, too, that in the course of ture sho must inherit all the Black wealth? Yah! and yet you let her wander through the fields like « farmer's danghter. I shouldn't be surprised if she was walking with Frank Maxon this very momen “I shouldn't either,” and the faint smile re- appeared. ell, I won't have it, that’s flat. I said so once, and that settles itfor all time. Oh! I know what you would say in your molish way. He’s an old friend and industrious and talented and all the rest of the twaddle. Perhaps he is; but he can't keep up with this processon, Mra. He may in time become a country justice and take in six shillings’ worth of fees per day and preside at town meetings. “But my daughter! My dollars! Oh, no! It's nota murriage we want, it's an alliance, that’s the word; and when you seo my friend Auckland you will see where we can get one. At least, you would, if you could see anything beyond your nose. "But no, I've talked and I've preached—" and so on, brr—brr—brr—whil poor Mrs. Black closed her eyes as one will be- fore the incessant diu of a mill. ‘There was a light step, a graceful young arm was thrown protectingly around the matron, anda clear, sweet voice cried: “Why, what's the matter, papa, are you talking about'me?” ‘There was a hidden flaw in Mr. Black's pano- ply of conceit which the candid glance of his daughter's eyes could always pierce. Somehow when she looked at him he felt unworthy of his rentage; she was so dainty, so charming, 80 eautiful, like the first blooms ot the arbutus, while he was so rough. 0 coarse. so uncouth, like the sodden rock which is disdained. His hands and feet had always seemed eminently useful and comparatively ornamental to him, yet at such times he became uncomfortably conscious of them. He now twitched the former and shufiled the Intter as ho fal! “We were v wondering where you wore. ‘Oh, I have walking with Frank Maxon. He a good comrade, don’t you think?” “Hum! Perhaps so. as a comrade, wouldn't want him asa groom—I mean as aservant. He is amusing and clever, and so fond of mamma. “Well. well, my child, it’s natural, I suppose, that youshould remember vour old playmate. But keep him in his place. These young sprigs are apt to be presumptuous. You have a position to maintain, you know. WI ras that French motto you explained to me? Nob—nob—" “Noblesse oblige? “Ab, that’s it.” That means, I take it, that the possession of stocks and debentures’ and oblizations of all sorts confers a nobility. Now we ure rich, remember, very rich.” “Rather, papa, that ‘position imposes lofty iples and noble actions.” ‘Well, that’s what I said, isn’t it? Now, in my friend Auckland, who comes tomorrow, you will find one who is your equal in birth, cuit- ure and wealth. I know, therefore, that he wili appeal to your—ur—higher nature in a way that no paltry ‘good comrade’ could.” And Mr. Black, having grown purple in ti face in the effort of preserving. the continuity of unusual speech, coughed solemnly and waddied away. “We know that I shall hate him, don't we, mamma, dear?” said Emma, The Black family, with their distinguished gnest, lingered over the fruit and coffee of an elaborate dinner the next evening. The west- ern sunlight streamed through the broad, low windows that opened on the garden and gave a ruddy glow to the weighty plate and aruby sparkle to tho cut-glass decanters. Enoch Black had broached his favorite topic of pos- sessions and his friend was meeting him more than half way. “Oh, yes,” said Auckland, ‘‘we have in our ‘own family a parure of Golconda stones handed down from that historic ancestor of mine who in Elizabeth's time circumnavigated the globe and burned the fleet of Spanish galleons off ‘Trafalgar. You may have comeacrous the inci- dent in sour reading.” “Yes,” said Mr. Black, who must have hap- pened upon it in a newspaper then. “It hus been sacredly preserved as an heir- loom ever since. Even in the days of Charles I, when our gold and silver ware proclaimed our loyalty from the melting pot. it was un- touched. Evenafter the fine and sequestra- tion resulting from Prince Charlie's rising it was spared by distress. And so, too, would the pearls have been, but unfortunately “Pearls,” interrupted Mr. Black. “I think I can match you there, or any one else, for that matter. You must have heard of the great Biack Pearl, so called not only on account of its hue, but because it has been in our family for many hundreds of years, since the day of — of Richard the Conqueror, in fact.” “Oh, long before that, papa. Queen Guine- vere wore it, you know,” said Emma, laugh- ingly. “Very likely, my dear, very likely. Ihave a printed catalogue describing it of about that dnie. My ancestor, who came over in the May- flower, brought this pearl with him, and with- out any primogeniture law it has been handed down from father to son ever since. Emm just step to the library and fetch it, there’ good girl. Here's the key.” Now, Mr. Chauncey Auckland, for an En- glishman, was very knowing. In exact infor- mation regarding “the great Black Pearl” he could give points to its owner. He remembered its sale at Paris, not ten years before, and how all Europe had gossiped about the enormous price which the American parvenu bad pai le knew, too, where a ready markot awaited it without the attendance of any embarrassing questions. But he was prepared to swallow all the Crusaders and Knights of the Round Table with the excellent dinner, in order to get a glimpse of its glory and’ a hint of its hiding ace. cuima returned with the shagreen case, which her father opened and handed proudly to his guest. The great gem lay in a white satin nest and somberly glowed like the moon behind a cloud. No setting marred its _perfee- tion; like a fair eastern queen its dusky nake ness was its splendor. Into Auckland's little evescame a responsive glitter which honor never kindled. The sinews of his hands tightened. He had a fortune in his very grasp. ‘The windows were wide open and from the brow of the adjacent hill. over which the cur- tam of night was descending, stretched miles of woodland. Was he not a fool 10 yield it back to two frail women and a pudgy old man? But no, violence was not his forte. Languor bad become a habit and ease a requisite. A night of concealment in the cold, wet brush, surrounded by all manner of creeping things and followed by days of puranit! Oh! What he desired he should take as be always had, but after his own fashion, which left no clue for regaining. He closed the box and returned it to his host, ‘It’s unique, it's superb,” he exclaimed with and £20,000 vanished into air. ‘The noble dame gave one ring shriek and expired.” Here Mr. Auckland sipped his wine, as if to hide a natural emotion. ‘You don’t tell me!” ejaculated Mr. Black, sidling uneasily in his chair. | “Explode! Why should they? _They ain't loaded.” “T hope they don't wnake a noise or do any damage, father,” said little Mrs. Black meekly. ‘Mr. Black looked his disgust at the idea and the epithet, but made no reply. “No, madam,” said Mr. Auckiand, turning courteously to: the, affrighted ‘matron. ‘The disintegration is sudden, but noiseless. Science has thus far failed toexplain its cause, although 8 good guess is, some subtle disease." “I didn't bargain to buy an explosive dis- suas enid Enoch, ruefully, quite forgetful, of Richard the Conqueror and the Mayflower. “Is there nothing one can do to prevent such a flare-up!” “I would snggest that it be kevt in some cool place where there is « slight currentiof air.” “Then the inner compartment of my orna- mental fire-proof, lace. Tet me see. yy the window by the library. The sides are more lattice work. Here, Emma, my child, | ae eam there and bring me the 01 But, father,” again ventured poor little] Mrs. Black, “burglars.” a Mr. Black hated to be called “father” by his wile, for he washer senior by & good many years and it made hini feel them. She was ‘aware of this aversion, but unable to break the habit from nervousness. ”" he blurted forcibly, but incon- ‘there aren't burglars in these days; an creas Cnt aheaiete alarm at every win- “Yes, father.” “That's a curious little key,” said Mr. Auck- land, by way of diversion, on Emma's return. “May Tlook at it? Thanks. Of foreign manu- facture, I presume?” “Yes, Burmah.” This visit proved so pleasant that Chauncey Auckland repeated it several times during the summer. His devotion to Emma became a sub- ject of neighborly comment, which did not fail to reach the ears of Frank Maxon. At first he outwardly ignored the gossip, much as he feared, but soon an incident caused him to act with the euergy which was his characteristic. He met his lady love one afternoon, and began operations at once, as follows: “Don't you love me?” “Why, Frank, you know I do, Why else would I be here?” “And yet youare going to marry this En- glishman. I'suppose on account of his wealth.” “Frank, be careful. If you doubt me you wili no longer be the man that I love, and so I shall no longer love you.”” “But your own father told me so.” “Yes, He said that this was an alliance which your affection and his interest made de- sirable, and he asked me not to be a marplot. Can you wonder that the man that you love doubted?” “No, dear. Yet you might have trusted. Poor papa! Despite his wonderful execative abllitles be 15 as simple asa child in. bus, weak: nesses, This man has studied his weaknesses, and for some reason takes advantage of them.” “I believe he is an impostor, and I shall make it my business to prove bim one.” “Why do you still donbt?”” “Because I bolieve it is my right and duty to shield you from annoyance and persecution.” Frank Maron found many sug on in- uiry. His city friends smiled end shrugged shoulders when Auckland's name was credulity unless ad “You would Dost beep Papa-in-law under a glass case—for derked f, he's very freub. pee el mg it is,” and Auckland, with a good fate of my Cather great-great-grandmother, the peg eenipatl ace oe re Iam most pleased Women in Siam. Fortnichtly. Toa European eye the good looks, if they anywhere exist, of both men and women in Siam are destroyed by the uni- versal use of the betel, which blackens corrodes the teeth and causes trude, which renders the spittoon pensable article of furniture is ble for the great splashes of red saliva that may be seen everywhere adorning the ground as they have been ejected from the passers-by. women enjoy great Being of the most mercantile temperament become the tuted stewa: » treasurers but the present soverign into a of interior nation § H & Fee Hue lottery is extensively patronized in The gambling houses and the pawn which are their , and which are stocked with objects pawned or stolen. are a disgrace to the capital. “In some streets every other house isa pawnshop, kept by a Chinaman, If suppres- sion of these places were found difficult, at least a great reduction in their number might be made. while a substantial revenue would ac- crue to the crown by the imposition upon them of a heavy tax. J ‘New Cure for a Wart. From the Boston Globe. them lifted his hat to a lady whom they met. “A patient?” asked the other. “Oh, in a way,” answered the first doctor. I treated her the other day for a small trouble.” “What was it?” “A wart on the nose.” “And what did you prescribe?” “Lordered her to refrain absolutely from playing the piano.” The other doctor was astonished. sis “Orde to leave off playing the piano— for a wart on the nose? Well T can’t under- stand your treatment?” “If you knew the circumstances you would,” said the first doctor. “Sho livesin the next house to me.” ment Perhaps he was all right. He was ‘The Ruling Passion’ gentlemaniy, but—well, after all | rom Tid-Bits. it was none of their affairs. Frank Maxon per-| Highwayman (to Mr. Levy, second-hand sisted, and his patience was rewarded. He| dealer in miscellaneous property)—“Your learned that Auckland had no conneetion with | money or your life.” house whi imed to re _— sont. He learned that he had obtained money |_ Mf Levy—“Mine frien@t, you gannot through this fepresentation. Warily he laid his | ©*>ect me to gif you my money Jans, He was ready to strike. When to their -ysting place came Emma in a whirl of excite- ment. “Oh, Frank,” she cried, “such a misfortune! Poor papa is fairly beside himeeif.”” “Oh, he has discovered, has he? Iwas just about to inform him.” “Why, how could you know? It’s less than a half hour since we found it.” “Didn't I promise you that I would expose his imposture?” “Frank, dear, I don't know what you are talking about. I think it’s « shame whem I'm fo anxious to tell you. What has *he' and “his imposture,’ whatever they may mean, to do with our pearl?” «What pearl? “Why, the great black pearl?” “Why, has be stolen it?” *-Oh, dear, there you go again. Now, listen, stupid. That famous peurl, of which father has been so proud, ts ruined, destroyed, a little heap of dust.” , who smashed it?” one; it exploded! Don’t interrapt me, sir, You see, papa had promised to exhibit it at the loan exhibition. So this noon he took the case from tho dosk and opened it. And there in place of that lovely gleaming, as I tell you, was alittle heap of dust, of feathery ash! ‘Ah, if tt only had been stolen we might recover oe “It seems to me that I have read of such a casualty, but its happening is so rare as to be almost impossible. You say your father took the pearl from the desk? Didn't he keep such a valuable article in his safe?” “He used to until Mr. Auckland warned him. Oh, it’s such a coincidence! The very same catastrophe happened to an heirloom in his family over a hundred years ago. That poor Lady Catherine! Her fate was so tragic?” “My dear, I don't believe in coincidences, re an oxcure for a lack of reasoning. ‘The only heirlooms this Auckland ever had in his precious family are a noose and a pair of hand- cuffs. If he predicted such » probability as this it was because he was to make it acertainty. I have only just obtained proofs of his = “Then be is the ‘he’ whose ‘imposture’ you would expose?” “Yes, dear. Don’t you remember?” “He hasu’t troubled me lately, and I've been so happy that I had forgotten.” “Let me think. This great black pearl may rove the talisman of our happiness. Hasten, mma, to the house and bring me some of that dust.” I will, oh, I will! You think it isn’t de- stroyed—that he may have stolen it?” ‘iam sure—” “Oh, joy! Papa would do anything for us, it is to be mine some day—vou know when, Wait, wait! I'll be back instantly!” It was late the following evening that Mr. Chauncey Auckland entered his hotel and saun- tered to the desk. “You sail tomorrow, sir?” said the clerk, as ho handed him his key. “Well, good-bye; a pleasant vorage to you.” Despite his habitual languor, Mr. Auckland started as he opened the door of his room, for the gas was burning brightly, the wardrobes and trunks were ina state of’ confasion and lolling in the easy chair, smoking, was Frank Maxon. “What are you doing here?” asked Auckland, fiercely. ‘Maxon raised his hat from the center table. Underneath lay a revolver, which he leisurely pointed at the Englishmen. “sit down,” he said, and the man sullenly obeyed.” He sat for a moment in silence until he had recovered his self-control, and then again asked, but more affably, “What are you doing here?” “Ihave been looking for Mr. Black's pearl, but haven't found it, Doubtless you will kindly assist me.” “What preposterous nonsense! Why, he told me this very morning that it had ex- ploded.”* “Pardon me. That was a slight mistake. The pear! is all right. It's only your ridiculo story and your career of chicauery that have expioded.”” “You can't bully me, sir. I shall ring the bell and have you kicked out.” “You will admit, asa man of acuteness, that Iean prevent you if Ichoove. Well, go ahead. A detective with a warrant is awaiting such » summons.”* “You haven't the proof for a warrant.” For the theft of the pearl? Well, perhay not. The time has been so short. I have the evidence of your conversation, an analysis of the dust in the shagreen box, which turns out to be ground glass, and several false keys and black beards, which I just found in your drawer. After awhile 1 can make a case, I mes An Involuntary Capture. and mine life von'at do Ec ghad tells you vot I vill do—I bay you at a fair brice.” Maj. John H. Gilbert of Palmyra Says ‘Oliver Cowdry Wrote Most of the Copy. came rich Mr. Snow wrote him about it before long Brighcm Young appeared the account. He paid Deacon Snow the with compound interest, which, after » of #0 many years, amounted to a tidy sum. The Mormon Bible was printed . H. Gilbert of Palmyra. ryt te ‘of 5,000 copies and was printed on an old-fash- foned Washington hand press, This press is now doing duty in the officeof the Rose Farmer. pul iblished in Rose, Wa —_, N.Y. On it every week py d; Pulled off and the old press is still in good ing : ‘Maj. Gilbert was ninety-one years old 18 Every year. on his birthday, he visite office of ‘the and sew stick of type, just to be sure that peo ast Songetten Som, He is still in the best ave ‘There are several original copies of the Mor- mon Biblein this village. Maj. Gilbert has one which aS by a Salt Lake City Possession of David Whitmer of ond. Ma itmer. " ‘who acquired it as one of the three witnesses from which the story who claimed to Martin Harris and Harris died City and Cowéry at to the world’s to the printer. Harris his farm to pay for the job, which $3,000 for 5,000 1B. Grandin took the contract, and For some time past it has been rumored im ‘months since been discovered in certain waters ‘Fish obtained the consent of the ( g3 full 8 & ig & il that oysters, few miles east of here, there resides a class of people who, while they do not in the usual transaction of business differ from other peo- ple, in many respects are so different from the run of the human family that they attract much attention, more iy from those who do not see them daily. ‘The settlement consists of $50 or more women and children, and from one number, David Mast, it is learned that thie the only body of this class of Mennonites—in this state. The number in settlement was formerly small, and originally ih descent and amor German dialect or Pennsyivania Du’ ‘The Omish Menngnite bas for century beeaa fixture in Pennsyl there be bas not so closely remained established custome of wect as H & F pe teat i i HM i fei Bes. dresses and a all American born, havi community and educate their children ie echools village of Arthi ame as which they live. The settlement is kept free from intrusion of blood other thas that of the forefathers. because no member of any family is permitted to unite in marriage with any one outside the church to which all —_+2-____ ‘The Floctuation in Jay Goutd’s Wealth. From the Morning Oregonian. Jay Gould's millions are subject to more ups and downs in the world than is the average lot of man. When he died he left stocks valued at 270,000,000. These securities inereased in value rapidly until January 20, when the Gould estate was worth in the market €12,000,000 more than whenitecreator died. But all that profit and sev- eral millions more besides have been wiped out by recent events in Wall street. When the mar- ket closed on June 3 the Gould trust securities were worth $6,000,000 less than on the day Jay Gould died. Even that was better than their conditions month ago. On May 5 the Gonid block of Western Union, Manhattan and Mis- souri Pacific was worth about $61,000,000, oF 9,000,000 less than on December 4, when Mr. Gould died. The zigzag of the Gould millions in these few months makes an interesting study in big figures. Taking €70,000,000 as a basis, it is ween that the estate has touched as high @ limit as €82,000,000, and as low a one as §6l,- 000,000, a fluctuation of $21,000,000. ———_+e. Pennies for the Heathen. From the Hartford Post. Madge, aged seven, bad a list of questions and answers given her by her Sunday school teacher to learn, the first of which was, “What is @ missionary?” and the answer, “One sent to teach the heathen.” The list was duly learned, and she went to Sunday school full of importance that she had her leson pers fect. On her return she was asked if memes remembered the «1 oo “Yee, mamma; I onl that I only mage a mistake of @ penny. said, ‘Two cents to teach the heathen’ instesd of one cent.” s About Kissing Before Marriage. From the Ladice’ Home Journal. I do not think you ought to let your swoet- heart kiss you whenever be wishes, A kiss from you should mean so much that it should be anevent; and then he will be certain that nobody else is getting your treasures, and that you are boarding great expressions of nffec. tion for the time when you shall be his very own.