Evening Star Newspaper, July 15, 1893, Page 7

THELITTLE CHINA SILK A Dress That is Durable and Always Looks Well. FOR STREET AND HOUSE. Walking Dresses for Summer Wesr—How They Can Be Made Simply but With Good Effect—-A Costume for Calling—How to ‘Wear » Voil—Advice to FashionableWomen Svecial Correspondence of The Evening Star. New Yorx, July 14, 1999. AVE YOU EVER considered that of all the gowns ever made the one from which youcan get the most wear for the longest while and for the greatest number of oc- casions is a litde black China silk? The silk must be of the very best quality. Such comes as wide as wool, is of close texture, smooth, glossy surface, and washes like linen. The gown must be made all fn one, both skirt and Dodice being shirred to good wide belt’ The width of the belt ex- tends above the w: tine, #0 that the gen- ost eral effect of the gown fs shortwaisted. The bodice opens in front, so does the skirt, and what a comfort it is not to have to bother about a placket hole. Make the belt extra big around, and- double so as to accommodate a drawing ribbon. The bodice is full and basa sort of surplice front; that fs, the collar crosses over and fastens at the side, and carries some of the fullness of the bodice with it, making it double-breasted at the top, though not at the belt line. In this ‘way the bodice fasters se- curely ins jiffy. The collar is a choker, snug and trim looking. The sleeves are hterally enormous. Justas many yards as you can spare and make stay in the armhole should be used to form great unstitfened bishop sleeves that go into smooth tight cuff coming to the elbow. 0: course, this fullness must be ar- Fanged with some plan, letting most of it come at the outside of the arm. skirt clears the and. ‘There is no danger, you see, of its ing in the back, of its showing the belt, or of doing any of those aggravating things that the usual round skirt does. It may have a deep rufle of Ice about the bottom, if you think it is not already as pretty as it can be, or, what is more practical. a deep rufile of the silk. not too full because the skirt is shirred. Such ‘@ gown seems to do for all times and places, It 4s cool and pretty. It may go on over any- thing. It may be worn with a hat outdoors. It will go into the tab and come out almost as good as new. It will last forever. A stiff skirt under it makes it flare, and even if it does not flare it looks all right The cost is not great, its life is long, and as it is Good as new each year it is very economical. A TASTEFUL WALKING DRESS. Coming to the first model represented, that of the initial picture, there is seen a tasteful summer walking dress. It is made of pale Diue and white striped m, and trimmed with white Ince and pale bine satin ribbon. The skirt escapes the ground, and is about three anda half yards wide. ‘It is trimmed with three rows of erepon ruching, is laid ina few pleats in front and gathered to the skirt band in the back. The waist fastens in the center. The fronts and back are taken rather loose, and in the front is a yoke of al- tervating rows of one and «© half ineh satin ribbon and lace insertion. This is finished with a frill of white lace nine » inches wide, gathered to the yoke im the front, and the ends then carried around under the arms up to the shoulder seams, mak- ing a kind of reversed Figaro jacket. The belt of satin ribbon ties with long bows and ends at the left side, The sleeve has « short puff and is At mention of on thoughts and coarse protecting apron than to the stylish gown of the third picture, but it nevertheless 4s intended for wear amid the flower beds, in company with the trowel and watering pot. Its material ix sand-colored woolen suiting, trimmed with white or palest pink faille. The skirt is very wide around the over the hips. It is gathered in with fatin and has a thirty-inch | strip of muslin as stiffening, but no trim- ming whatever. ‘The bodice has A SIMPLE HOUSE DRESS. faced with silk and a vest of faille fastening Deneath the box pleat adorned with gold but- tons. The back is plain, with a pointed plas tron of the faille. In front isa belt fastening with a bow of ribbon. The bodice is trimmed with full festooned bretelles, narrow in front and back, but wide over the shoulders. ‘The fourth picture presents a pretty and sim- ple house dress in @ moss green crepe strewn with a figuring of tiny binck flowers. It is made princess, perfectly plain and is lined with satin. All the seams in the skirt are biased and the dress hooks in the back. Its sole tim- ming consists of a draped fichu collar arranged im folds and caught up here and there. The Tight end is short, but the left hangs down for some distance, being held in place at the waist with fancy pins. ‘The collar is arranged in ts, fastened with jet straps ha lor [ay jet straps having a long A TRICK I¥ VEILS, Here is s coming new trick in veils which is worth mentioning and which you can adopt safely if it seems attractive. Make your veil carefully to fitthe hat. Both ends are finished with rosettes, which fasten at the back of the hat. From the rosette to the right a long scarf of the veil is attached. This either floats in the breeze, winds about your throat, falls over Your shoulder, or yon ean hold it in your hand, Use the width of the goods for the width of the veil. Theselvage of such goods is usually delicate and pretty. You may run very narrow real lace on the edge or you may finish it with the tiniest little bows of very narrow rib- bon. The upper edge of the veil may be turned in dainty hand-made hem, and ribbon in- serted, by which the fuliness is arranged, The A WELI-DRESSED CALLER. ribbon comes out in two erds at the middle point of the upper edge, there to tie and make the veil as tight as you like. Or it can only retend to tie there, and the little w can be just a make believe. All this takes FOR HOME AND JOURNEYING. ‘The next sketch was taken as a hostess parted with her guest and shows the former in a house gown of cheerful coloring and the latter garbed in serviceable and stylish traveling attire. The material used for the indoor dress is pink woolen crepe trimmed with lettuce green satin tibbon and lace. The gown is open all the way down in front and is finished around the bot- tom with s pink ruffle about six inches wide. ‘The waist has Yoke of embroidered tulle with an insertion of very fine lace laid over green ribbon. At the waist it is shirred four times in groups of two rows each and ornamented with four ribkon bows. The cuffs of the sleeves are also covered with embroidered tulle and garnished with = Ince frill and bows; at the top fs a large puff. The standing collar ia m ribbon covered with Ince. The gown jooks from top to bottom in the front. The second costume follows current modes closely, ‘and is more claborate than the usual traveling dress, Its fabric is mode-colored rough diago- nal, trimmed with cloth in the same shade. The skirt is composed of three parts, each one Anished with a band of cloth, over an alpacalin- ing. With the is worn a sleeveless vest made of mode and red striped woolen pique and high at the neck. The front may be but- toned on as shown, in cave a variety is wished, and the remainder is made of satin, each side Baving two pockets and hooking in ‘the center th the plastron or yest of pique. The top AMID THE BLOSSOMS. { of the satin lining near the neck is covered with brown silk and a brown «ilk tie is worn. The | toilet is completed by a short jacket having re- Yers and turned down collar faced with cloth. | The jacket is cut off at the waist in the front | and the back and the points adorued with two | buttons. The dalicon sleeves are ornamented with two strips of cloth. | faithful to her old love and sti 8 | On occasions. She occasionally sends s foulard | rufiles below Lent is like one of our rainy time and trouble, but the effect is charmin; and it cannot be bought as yet. The one I aa had not even been worn, and it was an excl sive importation. Now is a chance for you to be among the very first to obtain this pretty The taterial employed in the calling dress of the last illustration is black and red changeable silk, set off with black velvet and black lace. ‘The bell skirt is lined with silk or satin and is stiffened throughout with muslin. Around the bottom there is a very fall ruffle of silk edged with velvet and attached to the skirt with two rows of gathers. At the back the fullness is ar- rarged in twodeep box pleats. The round waist goes inside the skirt and has no seams save those under the arms, although the fronts may have darts if necessary. Each front must be cut considerably wider than the lining to al- low for the yoke-like shirring at the neck. The stuff is then drawn to the waist line and Inid in tiny pleats. The back is treated in the same way, save that there is no sbirring. The sleeves are finished at the wrist with a band of velvet and the belt standing collar are of the same velvet. The waist is with a full jabot of black ince. —— A FAIR COMPROMISE. How Paris Combines Foulard and Taf- feta. Last year foulard was the only ery that went up from all womankind. Paris echoed and re- echoed with it. We heard of wonderful shades and patterns, of changing, brilliant hues. We saw foulard on almost every womar we met— for last year we were more Parisian than now. We have aped our English cousins rather more FLOWERED FOULARD. of Inte. Wewere true devotees of the beautiful material and obediently donned it whenever ‘occasion allowed. = Butgn season of it was enough. This year wo Fooked for a new appearing, ‘We found zefresh- ment in the beautiful glaces, and taffeta, and sunrise and rainbow silks. Paris, , over to our shores, amid the wealth of other gowns that carry with them the delicious frou frou so dear to a Frenchwoman’s heart. ‘This one isn't all foulard, however. A com- promise between the old and the now is effected by the addition of a little dahlia-colored taffeta. ‘The lightly flowered foulard appears in the upper and deep flounce of the skirt. The four The poise lace collar comes first, the dablia taffeta ertha falls beneath, over the full foulard blouse, which is contined at the belt by the broad taffeta band. The sleeves also follow the same rule. Sometimes, on a cool evening, ita wearer slit a thin cape of two ruffles, the lower scarcely reaching her waist, under the lace collarette, ‘This gives a triple cape effect without its weight or thickness and cnrries still further the short Tufile effect of the whole gown. A Comparison, From Puck. “How did you find society in Philadelphia?” gardeni: would more naturally turn 7 some old dress tom, but sm the back, lined loose fronts THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, UNDER ITS DEEP SHADE, Folds of Chiffon and Lace Droop Over the Maiden’s Head. It is too bad that the new parasol is larger than of old; it prevents all those delightfal op- portunities which the smaller one afforded. On a very hot day, when the parasol covered two heads in place of one, how closely they had to get to be entirely shielded from the fierce rays of the sun. Andifa shower came up unex- pectedly and the parasol was of a sensible color ‘and could be used as protection from the drops, what even closer proximity became to besheltered from the storm. And now the maiden frowns somewhat disconsolately at the big 1 that she twirls above her head, fail- ing to be charmed with its tender beauty. ‘This particular one is chiffon and lace and ribbon and handle. Although the handle is mentioned last it is by no means least import- ant. Our handles sometimes overwhelm us “Their gay season is like our Lent, and their ‘Sundaya.” with their audacity of design. Fancy a coarse, common vegetable tied with the most deli: eately shaded ribbon and overhung by great cloudy puffs of spotless chiffon. Yet that is what often happens. We that claim a beauty eye confine our extravagances to wild fancies in flowers. But to return to the cause of beauty’s scowl. One wonders how shecan resist it, for it is of most delicate rose color, with a full chiffon star set in at the top. A few inches from the edge is. scallop of sunset ribbon, trimmed at each rib with a bow. A flounce of chiffon froops over and s big bow balf covers the A ROSE-COLORED SHADE. Another lies unheeded at her f with its airiness but half concealed. Its coru- color chiffon is edged with » deep ruche, ite center ia run with lovely insertion; a little further toward the tip stands out a le of lace, followed by another insertion. And it is crowned by a full chou of this self-same lace. From the handle one can pluck great, cherries that grow there temptingly. WHITE AND BLUE. closed, but And Sometimes a Heppy Combination of the Two. It fs an established fact that for the seaside and outing gown the favorite this summer is white, White linen, duck and serge, com- bined with white braids, silk and lace, are the order of the day. So that, when one lies on the beach and glances lazily around, one's ¢7e meets ever pure, spoteas ¥ ail over san But one girl is willful. Her summer ewain has also donned this color, and it doesn’t suit her to be clad in the same ‘shade ashe. When they sit on the sands their identity is lost to the gazer from behind. Besides, the beach sweeps away from the bluest of blue seas and the girl's figure must melt into that wonderful mass of lor. Therefore she has matched its tint, and com- bined therewith to Hghten the effect 's stripe of paler blue and white, The latter forms the skirt, except where » broad band of the pale blue insists upon » place in the center. In the Dodice the pisin has the asceudanoy—in the A TRUE BLUE. inner kerchiof that folds softly at the neck, and in the loose sides that fall over. It appears as well in the sleeve ruffles that lie over the big striped pufffand the loop bows that trim belt and skirt. White lace parasol and white lace hat were all thatshe meant to add, but she could not forbear jouch of pale yellow in the Toupee. From the Chicago Evening Post. “When I was ® young man, Henry Clews, the New York financie very heavy growth of kong silky hair, of which Iwas naturally very proud. While still » young manI discovered to my consternation that it was falling out rapidly. I dreadod baldness exceedingly and was sorely troubled. On my way down town to businoss I daily assed the establishment of Laird, an old- imer, whose store was near tho old St. Nicholas Hotel, and in an unguarded moment I consulted him.’ He recommended that the top ot my head be shaved and the bare spot fitted with a toupee. The shaving of the head, he declared, would promote the growth of the hair. Tconsented; my head was duly shaved and fitted with a toupee so nicely that I noted the difference. It made me feel happy. One evening while at a fashionable dance, as wns gayly dancing with a most charming young lady, I was made the victim of my folly. Astout lady was taking her de- parture, She was in « great burry to go, eibowing her way through the crowd of merry voung folke, she me one of the hooks of her cloak caught my toupee right where itlived. Thore was a yank, a struggle, » horrified scream from my companion, a burst of laughter from everybody else, an ‘effusive apology from the stout lady, and’ away went my beloved toupee dangling to her shoulder. Thad been scalped in cold blood. It was awful, I assure you. I wished for the proverb- fal trap door through the SS but #t wouldn't open. With a groan I grasped my toupee, SFyell, I didn't stop to finish the dance” ao yaar senciacon From a Buckboard. From Life. A drive? How lovely! | Yes, I'l go, of course. Tilget my tuings *** ‘Tere, now. Ia this your orse? He's such a pice big fellow. What's his name? Its Nelly? Oh! Thope—its very tame And steady. Yes, it is a perfect day. You're sure he won't he down or run away? You needn't laugh! All horses have thetr tricks, ‘You don’t suppose he'll mind that pile of bricks? ‘Oh, no, 'm Bot afrald—unless he rears. Indeed, the view is sweet. Just see his ears, One forward aud one back! What can he mean? How's that? “The Mountebanks?” T haven't been. Lilke her singing, but I can't see why You men adore her so. He's going to shy! Her acting 10 me quite commonplace, And then she’s 0 made up. Don't let him race, He might be hard to stop. Here comes a team! Oh, goodness! There, I didn’t mean to scream. "Twas silly, wasn’t it?’ Look, here’s a bump! ‘What do you think {t was that made him jumyt Why, home already? Hasn’t he been fast? Comé in and have some tea; it’s not half-past, d—not even if he’s tled? bye. I've had a lovely ride. HORSFORD’S ACID PHOSPHATE Makes Delicious Lemonade. A teaspoonful added to a giass of hot oF cold water and sweetened to the taste will be found re- fresbing and invigorating. THE COST OF A KISS. An Episode in the Life of Amber Pasha, BY JUSTIN HUNTLY MoOARTHY. RE WIND WAS SKIM- ming sharply along the Bosphorus, ripping the water into strong waves. ‘The eky wasasdarkand 8 cold as the sky of a London winter, but the air was clearer and colder in that Constan- tinople December than it often is in London. The steamer for Scu- teri had just left its landing stage by tha bridge and was puffing its way across the gray waste, its lights gleaming very brightly in the chilled air. Amber Pasha walked up and down the deck with Gabriel Oldacre. Both were well pro- tected against the wind by furred coats; both wore the red fez, which signified that they hela service under the Turk. Amber Pasha, as all the world knows, ie the most remarkable of all Europeans who have en- ice. Gabriel Oldacre was his private secretary and intimate friend. ‘All around them lights ‘were <begianing to shine out like stars, for it was drawing to the dusk, and Constantinople looked like a fairy city in the waning day. T! minarets of that mar; jous eastern dream in Europe grew blacker against the darkening sky. A fine crescent of silver moon, as keenly curved as the scimitar of some old-time Soldan of Stamboul, seemed to cut ite wa ‘the heavens. Gabriel city. into yes were fixed upon the fading ‘The moisture in his eyes may have been by the keen, cold air, or was it uncon- and the earth? He was silent for a little while, and Amber Pasha kept silence, too. Presently Gabriel spoke. “By the way, you haye not told me why we are ateaming toward Scutar. “True,” said Amber. ‘I sald I had some- thing to show you at Scutari—something to tell you on the way. What want to tell you is a story, one of the many stories of my life—a story’ which I should like you to hear, and which path; Gabriel sighed. He felt sure that he knew ory. woll what was the Pasha's purpose in tell- ing hima tale of his youth. He guesed that his friend wished to teach him that the sorrow of love which had wounded his heart eo deeply was known too to his friend. That he, too, hac received a wound in the fight, and had arisen again and gone his ways likes man. Gabriel was doing his best to bes man, but he had not the stroug soul of Amber, and for a moment the tears came into his eyes again and blotted out the lines and lights of the beautiful city, and in their place he saw again with the mental eye or ewy English garden and that comely Ei ish girl . Resolutely be fixed his eyes again upon the fantastic Turkish town, resolutely he fixed his attention upon the words that Amber Pasha was speaking, and while he listened he strove hard to banish from his mind all importunate memories and the name of thegirl he loved and lost. “Yes,” said Amber Pasha, “it is a great many rears ago, and I was young then, very young eke tekt hose ane Ges tone very young indeed, though at the time I did not think’ so, forI was nearly thirty years of age and thought myself the most venerable of men, Bismillah, what a raw lad I was for my years. Ihad been nowhere, had seen noth- ing nba glanced inquiringly into the Posha's I thought you began life very early.” h yes, I answered Amber, “and Ihad seen and done the usual things that » young Englishman of good family and fair means sees and docs. I had seen most of Europe, bad seca America, but this was my first crossing the threshold of the east. I was going at last to Constantinople. ‘The first time that I ever saw Constantinople I saw it under somewhat pecu- Mar conditions. I had long been dreaming of that earlicst glimpse of Stamboul, which was to reward my hopes and satisfy my expectations, Twas times on the morning when we stoamed into the Dardanelles; through the faint mint of raw morning I scanved the distant coast of Asis Minor, and saw, or fondly fancied that I saw, dimly dark against the sky the Mound of Achilles. From the Greeks of the early age my thoughts turned to the Greeks of that later age, the Greeks of that Byzantium I was now and at last approaching, Byzantium of the Varangians, the Aficklegarih of the mon of the north. Soon I should behold its domes of delicate curve, its crescents and its minarets, the white walls of ite morques and the green niet of its gardens rising like a dream of the ian nights out of the enchanted waters. “Alas for dear anticipation. This mist of the raw morning deepened, darkened, curtained close the vessel, muffled the shores in an im- penetrable gray, swallowed up sea and land and sky. fod tp to the sen gates, to tho qua: of Constantinople in a fog that for consistency and opacity rivaled the most strenuous efforts of brumous Loudon far away. Perhaps at mo- ments, and only for moments, the veil would lift here and there a ragged edge and show a surface of lapping water, the glimpse of a whit building ghostly in the gloom, the crest of a stately minaret, ® greén gleam of waving foli- age. Only for moments; then the mi descend and deepen again, screening Cor nople as jealously from the eyes of her Frank- ish lover as ever folded thicknesses of gauze concealed a harem lady from the curious glances of the ginour. Constantinople, for all that Icould see of it, might be exactly like Wapping, or Staten Island, or Calais; might be more beautiful than Naples or more common- place than Gravesend for enything that I gould see or say tothe contrary. In the mantle of this masking fog our steamer came to her halt, lay alongside the dock. Fezzed officials began to appear unexpectedly over the ship's side, leaping like Jacks-in-the-box out of the almost Ipable yellowness. We had arrived at our urney’s end, and still Constantinople was as strange to us as if we were back again in England. “There were some people on board with whom I had made friends. I was alone, and [ have always been of the gregarious kind, and I can say with Gothe, that I never met a really dull person. So wherever. I have been I have always found companions, and often found friends.” Gabriel's fancy floated swiftly back over seas to the day when he sat and looked at the Kittle Surrey church yard, and saw the face and heard the voice of Amber Pasha for the first time. So in consequence of his mind listening to the words that voice spoke then his ear was inattentive to the words the voice was speaking now, and it was some seconds before he again was ‘comprehensive of what Amber Pasha was saying. He was speaking of his companions on board the ship. “She was a very pretty girl; one of the pret- tiest girl creatures that 1 think I have ever never seen a prettier then; I have seen a prettier since. It wasasoft and tender kind of beauty, if indeed the word beauty does not convey something of a stronger impression than belonged by right to ber deli- cate coloring and youthful comelines, Her hair was very fair, quite ‘comme les bles,’ as de ‘Musset sings of the girl in his song, and ber eyes were very blue and her lips were warmly red. There, I can't describe her; she was pretty, exquisitely pretty, with » pathetic, ca- Teasing weakness of demoanor which was very captivating. ‘Afsos!” I wonder if we ever know what happiness really in?”” “There are so many kinds of happiness,” said Gabriel, gravely. “The negro, with a yel- low kerchief twisted around his woolly head, is happy in the sunlight singing bis wild songs. But if Iwere to spend all my substance in canary-colored silk it would afford me very lit- tle delight.” ‘As he spoke he pointed to where, in the front of the boat, not very far from where they were great negro stood, the most picturesque of the many picturesque figures that thronged the hbumbler portion of the steamer. He was as black as ebony and above the living bronze of his face he had wound a great yellow turban. He was talking eagerly to an immobile Turk, and his whole bearing was animated by a sense of the pleasure of being alive, a pleasure that was heightened for the moment by the handful of apples of which he was the possessor and into one of which his large white teeth made great *| munching bites at intervals Amber Pasha laughed as he followed the di- rection of Gabriel's gesture. “Ho looks like a Darfur man; he is probably Tety happy with his yellow turban and bis yol- low apples. Well, I was happy in thore days of my youth, bappy to get to Stamboul, happy in the companions of my journey. Trevannion was going out on a special mission to the sub- lime Porte, He was a widower, and his daugh- ter Rose was his constant companion, ‘Trevan- rhe great domes and | to believe that you will ‘hear with sym-|* D. C. SATURDAY, JULY 15, 1893—SIXTEEN ‘PAGES nion and I bad = vast number of common friends, and when we came to Constantinople in the fog we seemed as if we—he, she and I— had been friends for ages. “Through the fog we left the ship; through the fog we struggled with excited custom house officials in crimson fezzes; through the fog we followed our gallant dragoman toacarriage; soon. we were whirling through the fog alongsome of the very worst streets in the world, or at least in my experience, for Jaffa was then unknown tome. As we left the water the fog dwindled and dwindled and at Inst vanished, so that by the time our driver drew bridle at the door of Missiri's, Constantinople had ceased to be acity of shaduws, a clond-cuckoo town of vapors, fantastically; vague, and had taken its place in our understandings with the solid cities of the earth, and something at least of the interior of the great Asiatic capital of Europe was familiar to our wondering eyes. But for the exterior, for that view of the city of the Sultans, rising from the Bosphorous with allits mosques and minarets, its crescents and domes, and cypress groves and gardens, I had perforce to wait Until I was saying my first farewells to the most enchanting, perplexing capital in the world. Perhaps, after all, there was something ‘more really appropriate about such an entry into Constantinople. The city is so completely a place by itself, 80 characteristic of another civilization and another creed that there was something whimsically fitting in the almost magical wey in which one sailed out of Europe into mist, and when the mist had lifted found oneself actually in Constantinople. It was not unreasonable after all that one should arrive as in a dream in the city of dreams. “During those early days in Constantinople I was thrown a good deal into the society of the Trevannions, ‘Tho English colony was not quite 60 large then perhaps as it is now; the Tre- vannions and I had the same friends among the diplomatic people, and the fact of our having come to Constantinople together gave our ac- yuaintance aplessing airof old and long friend- ship whon contrasted with the relations wo had formed since our arrival. inseparable. “Although I was so young in those days I suppose I ought to have known better. I be- Vive that I was rather good looking then and that Iwas.an amusing companion for a young and rather shy girl.’ It did not occur to me that I could by any possibility be » dangerous companion. She was very, sweet and very retty, but I was not in the least in love wi er, and our friendship never resembled a com- monplace familiar flirtation in the slightest de- gree. It was no part of my plan of life to marry young. I was ambitious, independent; like Othello, I did not wish to change my free un- housed condition for the sea’s worth. My dream was travel, and travel of the kind I bad dreamed of was not wisely possible for a mar- was not in the least tied man. And as I said, glish girl But Iwas only in love with the east. ‘One day a number of us went for an oxpe- ition outside the walls of Constantinople. We were quite ge party, men from the 6 bassy, recently arrived travelers, official ree dents, a very bright, joyous body of men and women. had luncheon at the country house of a Turkish gentleman of great wealth, who held high office under the sultan, and whose house, or rather palace, was one of the wonders and delights of the Constantinople of that di ina place that was worthy of Sin- be us with “As usual, Rose Trevannion and I were thrown together, and we found much pleasure in admiring ali that our host's house and gardens had to offer for our admiration. { was vn ardent admirer of eastern art and architect- ure; I knew alittle about it and I thought I knew a great deal. Women have a great re- spect for any learning that is or seems to be beyond their ken, and I think Miss Trevannion looked upon me ass very learned porson indeed. As a matter jof fact, I suppose I was rather priggish, but I'was not a dall prig, I believe, and 1 did not bore my companion. “We were all to ride home in the cool of the evening, and our way lay for some while through the park of our Turkish host. It was a very large park, indeed. It has long since disa pe Civilization moves onward even in tamboul, and land 1s valuable, and the place bus years ago been cut up, and manufactorios stand on what was then an oriental earthly paradise. One great beauty of the place was & winding grove of cypresses that stretched for nearly three miles, serpenting in aud out of the glowing gardens that composed the park. ‘Through this cypress grove our cavalcade had to take its way. “With much laughter the major part of our company pushed on ahead. Some were racing one another, some simply galloping for the pleasure of the swift motion. Miss Trevannion was a rather nervous horsewoman and did not care to speed wits the others, and I was not at all x to leave her side. So it happened that wwo fell behind snd lost sight of our more ad- venturous companions, whose voices soon died away in the distance. ‘We rode quietly along, delighted with the beanty of the scene and talk: ing the kind of sentimentalism that a young man and s young woman are only too likely to talk under such conditiona Through the stately ranks of the cypresses the rays of the evening sun barred our path with alternating gold and sable. waa very blue above our heads; the air wasexquisitely warm and per- fumed with the heavy fragrance of the roses for which the Pasha was famous, The gardens, whenever we saw them through gaps in the trees, gleamed with the color of parterres of gorgeous flowers, and birds sang in the bos- cages. It was an enchanting evening, full of subtle appeals to all the senses, “Thon it happened. Our horses were very close together. We were going very slowly. We were quite alone. I had said something, I know not what, and she had looked upat me smil- ing. She was so pretty and so young, and she seemed s0 pl to listen to me, and I su ose between the charm of her beauty and the Rettery of ber admiration I’ lost my foolish head. I only know that, without thinking what I was doing, I slipped my arm round her waist, and stooping down kissed her on the mouth. “The moment I had done it I seemed to come to myself, and to see the folly, the unworthy folly, of what I had done. I waited for and pected an angry reproof. But, to my surprise, no reproof came. let her pretty head f upon my shoulder—remember we were goin, a walking paco—and looked up into my face wi 8 of simple, honest love. Hor sweet face was slightly flushed, and her eyes were bright. Her warm lips parted, the lips that I had just kissed. murmured, ‘you have made “My dear,” mo very happ; ‘And then she lowered her eyes, and the blush on her face grew deeper, but she made no effort to escape from my encircling arm. “In a moment I understood the situation. The girl was verysimple. She thought that the man who kissed her as {had kissed ber must needs be in love with her; she thought that the man who was in love with her must needs want to marry her. Ihad not thought of this when I stooped to my careless caress. I had kissed so many women who took kissos lightly and gave them lightly, with a laugh, that it never oc- curred to me how differently Rose might take it. Had I thought at all, andI had acted holly, thoughtlossly, Tehonld have imagined that she would be offended, and that it would cost me some pains to obtain her pardon for my impertinence. But that she would take my deed as she did take it would, in all honesty, never have occurred to me.” Amber Pasha paused and stood silent fora little while, fixing his gaze upon the approach- ing Beutari shore. Gabriel respected his silence for » while, then, as the Pasha showed s of speaking, he ventured to disturb jonce. ol.” he asked, “what happened then?” ‘Tho Pasha still gazed at the shore. ‘The only thing that could happen, he said. “The only possible course for me as a decent fellow was to accept the situation and to fall in with the girl’s belief. Many a man would have been only too happy to be in my place. Honestly I was not happy. I did not want to marry; I was not in love with Rose ‘Trevannion. But she thought I was, and my act had helped to make her think so, and that was enough for me. I kissed her again, and when we regained our party we were affianced lovers. “Of course my first duty was to speak to Tre- vannion, I felt miserable, guilty, a very scoun- drel as I told him that I loved his daughter, as Tasked him for ber hand. For it wasn't true. Much as [liked the girl I did not love her in the least, and I had no desire whatever to make her my wife. But the girl, by some unhappy chance, had fallen in love with me: I had fooi- ishly and unwittingly given her the conviction that loved her and wished her to share my hfe. I had blundered badly; there was no rea- son why I should blunder brutally in telling the poor girl the truth, possibly breaking her heart, and certainly giving » cruel blow to her delicate, shrinking nature and to her gentle pride. “The only possible course left to me as a gentleman, as a man with any decent feeling, was to make her life as happy as anything that I could do would make it. “To do Trevannion justice, he was not greatly rejoiced at my proposal.” He had ho} for greater things for his beautiful daughter, and an alliance with a baronet’s younger son, who was in some degree what the Elizabethans would have called agentleman adventurer, was not the realization of his dream. I told him of my position, of my modest means, He listened gravely, and, as I could see, regretfully. He ——— told me frankly that I did not come up to his ideal of Rose's husband either in rank or fortune, but be added that he loved his daughter too dearly to be other than guided by her wishes. “What those wishes were Trevannion was not long left in doubt of. I never knew, of course, what Happened in the interview between father and daughter, but when it was ended Trevan- nion came to me and shook me gravely by the hand and told me that there was nothing left for him but to give his consent to the And when I saw Rose and saw how happy looked, and with what timid joy she greeted me, I could have killed myself by some eruel death for my ghastly inability to feel for her Rbst she wo eimply let me Know that she felt for me. “Tho pangs of misprized love are cruel, God knows; they sear like glowing irons; they leave their ineffaceable brand u} heart and brain. T have felt those , and know their pains.” For a moment Amber Pasha, ifting his hand, let it rest gently upon Gabriel's shoulder with sympathetic pressure which the young man understood and was grateful for. ‘Then Amber went on again. “But I can scarcely imagine a sharper sorrow, keener pain, than I endured then, in those hours which ought to have been so happy. It Was no fault of mine. Love cannot be com- manded, and I could not with the best will in the wor!d cheat myself for“ single hour into the belief that I loved Rose Trevannion to be my wife, nk heaven, she n>ver at my despair. It was impossible not tobe fond of her, she was so sweet, so gentle, so beautiful, and the affection that fondness and that pity inspired she took without a doubt for the devo- tion of passion. “Tdeclare to you, my dear Gabricl, that I have known few sufferings more intense—and I have suffered as much as most men of my age— as the suffering which, having to play such » part as I was playing, brings with it There are plenty of men who, they been in my lace, would have thought themselves very ittle to be pitied, would rather have thought themselves much to be envied. For the girl was good, the girl was beautiful, the girl was wealthy, and many man, and many a good man, too, weuld think himself very fortunate to inspire affection in such a girl, and would troubie his head very little about ‘the precise state of his own emotions toward her. — But I could not ease my mind, I could not persuade myself that what did not exist did exist, and tortured myself daily with my remorse for what I had done and my anger for what 1 could notdo, And all the while my poor little sweet- heart was perfectly happy and I was envied by every unmarried man in the English colony. “We were to be married ina month. I bad got an appointment under the sultan, partly through Mr. Trevannion's interest, for of one thing I was resolved, that I would not live a dependent upoh my wife's fortune. And so the days went by, days that I look back upon now with an invincible sadness, with an ex- uisito pity, beautiful, unhappy, despairing inys that gave my life ite first and most endur- ing sorrow. “It all ended very sadly. It ended within a very few weeks of the first time I ever saw her. Shd was very delicate, and oriental towns are not the best abiding places for delicate women. One day she was very well and bright and happy. ‘The next day she was struck with fever. In « week sho was dead.” Amber Pasha stopped speaking. Gabriel ginnced shyly at him, saw that his bands gripped the rail of the voasel very hard. ‘There was silence for a few seconds, and then Amber began again, with a voice that was not as firm as it was wont to be: “Thank God that to the last, as long as she retained consciousness, she was happy, confi- dent in me. She did not dream of her danger; she never knew it. Ob, if I could only have brought ber buck to life with any sacrifice that Lcould make, bow gladly I would have done it. I would have devoted my life to her; I would have been friend, husband, lover, all. You can- not dream how black my ingratitude seemed, how hideous my selfishness, how mean my am- bitions by that deathbed. There, I have told you what I have never told to any one else. It was long enough before I came to myself, and could face the world with courage, and bear to think of myself without detestation. I have lovedand been loved since, of course. Iwas but a boy then. Iam no longer young now. Bat that, I think, is thereason why I have never married.” ‘The steamer had arrived at Scutari. In silence Amber Pasha and Gabriel went on shore, and in silence they walked till they came to the cemetery where sc many English sleep. Amber led the way through « succession of paths in that city of sleep. Suddenly he came to a pause before a simple square sarcophagus. On the stone was cut the words “To the mem- 5 eadly close ther. After this followed e couple of character. Gabriel bent over the sione and strove to de- ‘Meaning of the inscription. But he ee pasha understood bis glance, “Those are lines,” he said, *‘from a Turkish tnamed Museddes, of whom I was him for “And their meaning?" asked Gabriel. “My Turkish is not good enough to help me.” “They mean,” Amber ans be like this: ‘Though I'm far now from the shadow of thy love, O Cypress, straizht, Suil my praversl iney offerfor thy happiness of state. “Those lines seemed to me then very fitting a ‘They still seem to me very beauu- beautiful,” said Gabriel Ge are very sad.” can be vi "said Amber. “You know something of that, my dear Gabriel. Now you know that I, too, have drunk deep sor- row.” Moved by an uncontroliable impulse, Gabriel grretched out his hand to Amber," Amber took , and the men exc loyal pressure by the grave of the English Be was en they walked slowly back to the landing stage together. Pre-emtnence of the Bean. From the Bostou Hersld. Beans are more nutritious than meat, and it islikely that at no distant day science will devise some method of preparing them as food that will overcome what is now the greatest obstacle to their universal use, the difficulty with which they are digested by persons either not of robust stomachs or are sedentary in habit. Itis not at all unlikely that, with the growth of population and the consequent in- crease in the cost of animal food, they will take the place of the latter toa considerable extent. Thev are exceedingly rich in portein, or muscle- building substance, and, therefore, have o power of sustaining men through arduous physical toil. The lumbermen of Maine, it is said, almost live on baked beans and never tire m, “They are very Work and Leisure Should Be Mated. From July Seribuer. Work is good. No one soriously doubts this truth, Adam may have doubted it when he first took spade in band, and Eve when she scoured her first pots and kettles; but in the course of a few thousand years we have learned to know and value this honest, troublesome, faithful and extremely exacting friend. But work is not the only good in the world; it is not a fetich to be adorned; neither is it to be judged. like a sum in addition, by its out- ward and immediate resulta, The god of labor doos not abide exclusively in the rolling mill, the law courts or the corn field. He has a twin sister, whose name is leisure, and in her society veges mcd oe lasting gain of of a No Voice in the Matter, From Puck. Editor—The style of this article is too ee vere and stilted.” Young Scribble—“But it’s a translation from the groat Victor Hugo.” Editor—-That'snothing; just change it, He'll never know the difference; he's dead.” ———2ee— That Japanese Temple. From World's Fair Puck. SSS 4 ped | Mr. Peastraw (accosting stranger)—“‘Say,mis- ter inter r, ain't it tew bad tew put green timber ba buildin's? See how them roofs have hemp pipe = a es = A STREET IN CAIRO. Not the Oity in Egypt, but » Duplicate at the Fair. Sensation When Riding on # Camel or ® ent Kinds of Dancing. Spectal Correspondence of The Evening Star. Curcaco, Inx., July 11, 1898. “Ride! Ride!” “Of course, of course; how much?” “Fifty cents.” You proffer the amount. “Nickel for driver, nickel for driver!" ‘The nickel is forthcoming also. You then Proceed to get astride of a great brown mound that rises from the ground in front of you. There is alot of shabby red silk over the little mountain and something that passes for a sad- die. Having straddied it you have very much the same sensation that you had when you were & boy and used to ride your mother’s big trunk in the garret—your legs are too short and only stretch balf way across the top. “Lean back, lean back!” You obey and the mountain rises behind You, and just as you are sbout to abandon the effort not to plunge forward the mountain rises in front of you, and lo! you are on the top of « driven bj in P ot & camel, yy an Egyptian, in « “Look out, look out!” ON A CAMEL'S BACK. ‘The driver, in his long blue gown, with « turban on his head and a long stick in his hand, is walking by the camel's head scattering the people whom you would otherwise tram upon. —_ fe in the camel's itching along you cannot help reflecting upon Tae inexpressable agony Phat would be yours if the camel should take it into bis bead to trot. But where is his head? You crane see far forward the sleepy eyes ‘and contemptuous under lip that are part of the beast that youare riding, but they are #0 remote that you cannot imagine them as being in any way connected with you. What else do Why, youareso much occupied with your bodily discomfort that you notice little. © There is a surging mass of people below from You see the second your neck and you see? you. They have very much the same ance that is presented by a crowd vie & fifth-story window. stories of the houses that line the street. “Lean back, lean back!” “The Jong-robed driver is shouting to you ‘again, but this time in your confusion you for- get to obey. Down goes thefront of the moun- tain, and you dart off like an inverted sky- rocket into the arms of a motley throng of donkey boys and camel drivers. The entire length of your ride on the camel has not ex- ceeded @ quarter of « mile, but the has been quite sufficient. As you shake self and congratulate safety after many perils gone through, thought flashes across you thet there are actually men who ride camels for days at a time. Foor fellows! how very unhappy they mast The camel sits at the gates of the Cairo street in the Midway Plaisance at the world’s Colum- bian exposition, and is almost the first thing two years’ that the visitor sees after he has passed the on dry land behind ‘thom, to @ Sires ticket office and the porter at the gate. proof house capable of affording perfect pros 8 DONEET BIDE. tection in winter, shouid they fail, through any Mingled with the camels, indeed, mixed up | Hy'reswenes sentpte Tench any — with everything in this quarter of Cairo, are ¥ will not plunge entirely into the unm the donkeys—poor, patient, phlegmatio little | known. They have before them the certainty beasts, standing as still as statues until some | of discovering a new «bore about ‘one gets on one, when he goes his route, whisk- | eth a4 = Gane from Wa ing his tail, taking uneven little jand got- | Boston; for the land which hee 450 miles ting over a given surface <8 groual about as | Tt ag om Yt slowly and irregularly as possible. There is, | pee.sce 1° the west of that const will of course, much shouting to make way and the — pan hg a, oe donkey gots as many bard knocks as can con- | [0° _ ap) expedie veniently be given to him. There is wy Teen 9 eg nr | a ly free and easy about this donkey | rhether Hayes sound, dividing Eileemers Hiding. Although come of them are provided | ais aac Both Nares aad Grosly [ith side seddies. most of them are nots bat | [oft onwolved t makes no ference. @ woman wants to =, ride ehe «i 's sede, using the pommel ao am time two {important Hines of as she would the born of's site ‘The | jrork weg Phe stirraps are too long or too short, but that does en pee nad be made with the most not matter. She must ‘on as best she may Trt appliances, and magnetic phouemene strange to say, she falls off. When Ry aa by —— — & man rides he 18 supposed to be superior to | Neither of these two kinds bes stirraps and they are usually discarded. The | &°eF been made at so high s latitudes with all Dest sight is to see two lively come | the perfection permitted by the most recent Sea re cents “ee naok, tak: selecs | ™ Rpectal etlention will bo Roveted to tap ged: wielding their sticks and pene dmg ogy of ae ‘There is no reason why the ey maint, wile Gate ente Sao- oy ‘since rome color and plotarenquenens to the} 1. summer © large part of Eisames Anodes While yon are still wondering at the fate of | SeFteinly free trom ice and snow, the rocks will Cairo donkeys and congratulating yourself that ——. “emg poem 3 - you are not that kind of a donkey at any rate, | . 2! Mhales leave Lancaster sound in Angus Fou are aware of a sensation near by and you | 8° nobody knows where Since they Ro to.see, A ring has formed and in the mid-| 40.26! 8° north to it is not im- dio of it is another donkey aud riding upon his | Possible that they go northwest, and in that back a large gray ope. fellow weare a sort | SMe the expedition may discover’ new whaling of cay ae ee om =o ee eee shoulders and looks very much like the fur cape | “ter sound. How val ‘this diseovery that rich men’s coachmen wear in cold weather. | WoUld be may be gathered from the fact that He alights from the donkey, and then be single large whale is worth as much as $12,000, through his tricks, He begs for money, but, ~-§ whaling ship bas been known to return for that matter, so do all the rest of them in =. Cairo, and he jumps and performs gymnastics. expedition will not occupy more Then he and his master bave an interesting | ‘2#" six months and yay bout at single-stick, and the man gets some | *t ™ost, $1,200 man, making Prgtty hard knocks too, for the spe is. big for a party of eight. fellow and savage. le is a: or be would bite like « wild cat. —s HERR POLLAK IN CHICAGO, A BRIDAL PROCESSION, High above the noise of the apeand the donkey boys there is borne to your ears the beating of drums and the weird, monotonous music of the pipes. Evidently something un- then to the wall and usualiscoming. Back make way for the magnificent bridal cession. First of allcome men in SS. people back to make all clear, yen come two coffee-colored men, pranci dancing, kicking and stamping. They re naked to the waist and Following scimeter, and back of him man. This one wears crimson silk eve that Chicago lies without Isn't the Nile in the place where used to about only to be confronted by » Egyptian youth in bright green wishes tosell you some genuine ettes. Ina booth next to him site a frowsy old heathen incessantly smoking and making mor- occo slippers whenever he can find the chance to take some stitches between puffs. For the matter of that everybody is smoking cigarettes, ‘The donk@y men and camel drivers are smok- ing, so are the waiters, eo are the sho} so "is the rest of the population ‘which is en- gaged in the congenial occu; noth- moking.” and enforee the regulation and in # short time there would ing. Put up a sign “No smoking, be no natives left in Cairo. DIFFERENT KINDS OF DANCING. Bat there is another crowd gathering at the foot of the mosque, and you go to see what is going on, Three men are singing and dancing. They hop around to the tune of aslow chantand atintervals they slap each other on the neck. One of the men 18 old tion of Cairo, it may be |, may be divided into two classes, one of which wears silk and the other cotton. There are doubtless subdivisions of these classes, but they are too minute to be examined inte. Oue of the dancers stops every little while an smong tho rtcengert ooking’ Sor. beckekesah, How much will you give him? Some people unload coppers on him, others contribute nickels and others drop silver in his palm. You can do as you choose. If you have no you can move away and no one will notice it, portals, for the dancing there is never dreamt of. Thereare towns in New land where an exhibition of this kind of ing would so utterly astonish the children of the Mayflower that they would be sure to ~ theater is an Egyptian ere you can see religious danci quite of another order. In this sarae £ > Ne half a dozen mummies, What a mighty and prolonged jolt stride. As you go your- yourself upon your por = their heads and feet are bare. em is a swordsman, flourishing his yet another swords- Turkish trousers and morocco shoes. On his head is a glorious turban. He is at least six feet tall and made in proportion. He is serious, dignified, gracefu! and magnificent. His sword flourishes above his head, while he keeps time with a long stride to themusic. Following him arethe pipers, and then one of the camels comes with a drum- mer on bis back, more camels, veiled maidens, aclosed Utter borne by black slaves in which the bride lies hid, more attendants, and the bridal procession is goue. Did anybody ever conceive of such a strange scene a being possible ander like elrcumstances? Can any one ‘the gates? : Lake Michigns But the procession has gone and you turn gorgeous ‘silk, who tian and the others are of middie age. They sre not of high caste, for they are clothed in cotton robes. The popula- ots kind you eye it if you want them to dance and begging forcoing whetber want them to or not. Can it that this is e gate? And what is the meaning of “Exit?” If vou go out do you find youresif on the desert with the pyamids end spbinx frentens you? No! ¥ vender offers you and bere ia stand where there is nothing sold but chewing (Of « verity You are in the jurisdiction of the great city of But is it possible you were in Chicago a few moments ago with the camels and di ‘and the dancery and the 1 Tt ts, thousand shows of the fair. —_—>—— UNKNOWN LAND OF ELLESMERE, A Party of Explorers From Washington to Visit Ite West Const. An expedition for exploring an unknown re- gion of the Arctic is being organized tn Wash- ington. Mr. Robert Stein of the gvological survey conceived the ides of it originally. The Party, to consist of not less than eight men, Proposes to leave St. John’s, Newfoundiand, in May, 1894, returning in October of the same = Thus only one summer will be in prosecuting the ent which be Sonduened outa pater weal phan avenue of approach to the The customary pole bas been by way of & northward continuation of Bafiin bay, that route commed to point almost straight to tong: t goal of arctic explorers. Asa result, the shores on both sides of that route have been pretty well mapped out by a ceries of expeditions, beginning with Inglefield’s and ending with Greely's. At the seme vime, the is shore remains auoutlined on the maps. It is now proposed to trace this utknown shore, so far ascan be done in one oummer, from a base of operations always within reach. That base will be at the entrance Jones sound, on the route pursued by the ing steamers which annually frequent the whaling ground in Lancaster sound, sbout eighty miles south of Jones sound. he ex- Pedition will take passage on one of these whaling vessels and will be landed at the south end of Ellesmere Land. jere the party will erect a honse Sto Coste, in, should it be Decumary to deen, Provisions enough for two years. Two ‘men will remain to ~ observations. The others will travel | 8nd northward along the unknown es they can go. A preliminary Hi direction, the expedition will a expense rtering a special of 0) tions will be ff fF ft ge g F 3 i of Europe. There is not « capital of the old world where he is not known, He is about thirty-five years old and dreases quietly. Yes- terdas afternoon be walked in the Old Vienna, in the Plaisance, and as soon as he got inside the gates he anuounced in stentorian tones: * am Herr Pollak of Europe!” Immediately an informal meeting of the cers was heid and he was given the freedom the They did not grant the hon choice. ‘They kuew the man end knew He ab would take it anyway. Herr Pollak’s specialty is rf g i Z e & if i He - il him fors single dash. public, which be occasionally costume something like that of j i } nt money, aim in life. He talks of Fifteen languages are at his tongue’s end, but they do not all flow so rapidly as Scie he inflicts on the public and which he in his native town of nitz, Hungary. ‘The 20,000 words he uses are not connected and give no meaning to In giving his performance, after of the board of civil service commissionera He - wus gratified, for it is always gratifying to feel: ‘that your labors are appreciated; but when you - ‘be quit of thom it is he notideation tbat you tw remain at the post of duty. one of those, who should living in eek Cairo. There they are in all their wildness, | He is stills very young man and will | with their grenay, Fopy curls of hain, dancing | from lates,