Evening Star Newspaper, July 22, 1893, Page 11

THE CITY OP LIGHT. systsrarutytaes ome France centers in Paris to the extent that ex- Points of Similarity and Difference | warded to the capttal for agence inte only Between Paris and Washington, PARISIAN CIVIL SERVICE, |ssessoeat pion eat mss University and Student Life in the Gay French Capital. WHITHER ALL ROADS LEAD. Panis, June 1, 1893. clean ugliness of work. Like Washington, Paris does not depend ‘upon her native-born citizens. From the country lawyer who has been made deputy to ‘the peasant’s son who shows talent for the ‘Violin, those who most crowd and exult in the gay life of the capital are strangers to its christening fonts and civil registers. Then there are the army of government clerks, the army of university students, the artists and those who study singing, medicine and law, to say nothing of theology, and the mob of tour- ists, the pilgrims of luxury and fashion, chic residents, the old nobiesse and millionaires of every tongue and every shade of color. Over the government clerks the civil service system rules in all its spreading glory. There {ea fearful rush of highly educated young men for every beggariy clerkship which the govern- ment can bestow. In spite of the placid reply ef oneof Balzac’s characters in “Bureaucracy,” ‘that the principle of the badding civii service of his time was already “to multiply places and Out of Office. reduce salaries.” the idea has been continually Tefined upon until today one-tenth of the adult males of France are government clerks or functionaries. Still the rush for place con- tinues. and ministers are forced to suspend ex- aminations because of the number of those have already passed brilliantly and who re- main as yet without position. It might astonish Americans to know that young Frenchmen are willing to begin at the foot of the civil service Indder on nothing a | year. There are many on the lower rouads who get seazcely more than $40a year. Well- to-do wives and mothers itrigae for places for their sons and brothers—places searcely better than these. ‘The reason is plain. A government place here is a certainty, permanent during good con- duct. In the long run it leads toa pension, perhaps to ared ribbon, and then toa wealthy Wife, who, with paternal money gained in trade, is only too pleased to buy the valued met to the spirit of A eins distinetio: ar! As to the of Congressmen), who come u of all France, some are ric c. Five dollars lar is their jont to support « man ald Paris hax so € bis family. stitntion, the jr mewspapers ' ck him), that it is not strange ls like Panama should now and then de- he wonder » they do not come out The absence of two great political oftener. parties in France permits any number of go-as- you-please deputies, professing special sets of rineiples, from: th st who wishes to bring Pack = king to the socialist member who got welf arrested on May day for being vart of orderly erowd. t Tam a deputy!” be cried. “Then you onght to be at the chambers,” was the policeman’s heartless answer. Examples like this show the mixed and variegated politi- eal life of the capital, where civil service re- form does not rule, where the activities of the people have free scone and where a man may prosiaim himself a “revolutionary socialist” and pledge himelt to the destruction of the senate, the ciipping of the capitalists, amnesty ARIS, IN MANY WAYS [the capital of the world, has given herself a spe- cial name—the City of Light. What this means the people of Washing- ton, more than any others in America, can understand. The wide avenues of Washington resemble those of Paris, and along its smooth, streets, shaded with trees and inter- spersed with little parks, there breathes the air of a capital, fanciful, expectant and tinctured with «leisurely well-being and an easy dignity ‘that has nothing of the rush of business nor the to be expected that the tion courses alone should contribute to the glorifi- cation of the city of light in no mean wa} And there must be added to these eorsata apes —for French law isa thing apart. also draws numbers of foreign students to Saint Sulpice, and few experiences are more startling than to walk along the decent but dismal square of the great Catholic seminary and hear from the mouth of a decorous and meek-faced youth Jimmy, As to the ordinary lay student, bis life in Paris is one of mixed roystering and work. In- asmuch as the whole future of every intends to enter professional life or th ‘ment service depends absolutely on the taking Of his degree, the dead level of excellence is Asking for a Place. higher among French students than among our own. Of all medical students and painters are the most giddy and disreputable, perhaps be- cause of the artistic temperament in both. At the Brasserie d'Harcourt, at the Cafe Francois Premier and the dance hall of the Bal Bullier they acquire that easy finish which they are obliged to unlearn the moment they enter de- cent society. In the meantime grow pre- mature beards in tufte and patches, and herd with supposed milliners’ assistants, models and washerwomen, who, it should be said to their credit. have often instincts still warm hearted, domestic, disinterested and paseably faithfal. Professional Men and Students. It was always a matter of wonder to Mr. Robert Louis Stevenson where the French artists and professional men of his time came from and where the students went; for the first Were so courteous amd reasonable and the latter such unmitigated pigs. As to the painters, the change most often begins when they dream of sending a picture to the Salon. The nerve tension, the incessant work the vision of cees and the thought of the ugly letter “R’ for refuse—are sufficient to age the most frivo- lous. Paris, the capital, for students is very different city from the Paris of the tourists, Across the Seine, on the Boulevard Saint Michel, around the Luxembourg aud as far out even as Vaugitard there stretebes the modern Latin Quarter, eaten into in many ordinary life of Paris, but still maintaining an individaality and contributing still to the many- sided life of Paris, the great capital. A set of students of very different kind are found ina very different part of Paris. ‘These are young lady art students, emong them a number of Americans, but they hardiy make a show among the mass of men, whose ways are so different from their own.’ The students of the singing schools are, on the other hand, overwhelmingly feminin Many a enug apartment and boarding house shelter these young song birds, many of thom “amateurs” with comfortable mammas opening well-filled purses. It isat once the blessing and the fault of these young Indies that they do not need to follow singing for # livelihood and will never be heard in public. What strange fate vushes poor girls into such a miserably profession as painting and draws vich girls such a splendidly paid career a: xing is atery of Providence explainad.. yuly om Art Students. the physiological ground of feeding. A girl should ordinarily be well nurtured and cared for fi her extreme youth to be a great singer; while there is something in the proud dejectedness and restless weariness of the painter that goes well with hgh thinking and poor hving. The length of time required to finish in either opera or concert depends greatly on the talent and industry of each student and also on the reportoire to which she aspires. Among the concert singers leaving private musical schools some studied two and others three years here in Paris. Many will return after their | concert tours to get up other songs, and others, | after singing awhile in concert, return to take ‘the opera course, which does not require so longa time as is sometimes supposed after opera airs have already been studied, Others | yet sing their «weet songs for a few months and incontinentiy marry,and, erac.the pianoforteis | deserted and all the daughters of music are | brought low. | Deputies, government clerks, university stu- | dents, the whole organization of the army | (there as a garrison of 20,000 in Paris), painters and singers, actors and doctors, all look to Paris as the sunflower looks to the sun, But how small a part do they seem, when all are docketed and to their places? All roads Jead to Paris @ as in old times they led to Rome. From Various Countries. During three days of a week in April there ‘| their | erals, three lords and the éon of « minister of ex-chanceilor of the e: | war, lcscurach ao,'the wists, university ifs ot | Desken) a Serssee acd bie ‘Duldop Sings \ > 1 a rajah all the way from India. From Portugal Came the king's eid and a duchom aid'ot honor, Ex ring the way for the Dowager Queen’ Maria Pia, who ‘is Victor “Emeauel’s daughter and sister to King Humbert There was a Spanish prince and his wife anda duch. ess, who is the morganatic wife of another Bourbon. Then there was the reigning Prince of Sexe-Coburg-Gotha; and, among princes not royal, two Russians, a Bavarian and a North Germa e with an American wife. The latter signalized himself by pitching an obnoxious concierge into the street. There was the di- rector of the Turkish bank, an imperial coun- sellor from Austria and another from Bussia, with the tsar's own chamberlain and his aid-de- camp: an admiral from Holland, three generals from Russia and one general ench from Rous mania, Colombia, Peru and the United States of America. Tho ering sea commi sioners were being dined and ministers of state or envoys on the way to Mast Be Well Fed, posts—from Portugal to _ Berlin, from Sweden to Brussels, from Sonth Amerien to Spain and from Russia to Chicago—all had found that the lo it way ound was the nearest way to their destinations, so they dropped in on the grent beer garden of the world. And this is taking no account of Jonai, King in the back country of Dahomes, who lends « new attraction to the city of light by exhibiting himself, his hundred sable courtiers and his thirty-five Amazons who make his royal African lady bodyguard, ull in the exposition building of 1839. Srexiine Hee. se AWAY WITH COURSE DINNERS. During the Hot Weather the Evening Meal Should Be a Light Supper. An institution which should be abolixhe ddur- ing the dog days is the evening dinner. Every woman who isin the position of Indy of the house and maid of all work combined, says the New York World, will appreciate the saving of energy and strength auch an abolition would be to her, and every woman who struggles along with one servant should endeavor to uve her imagination in discovering what it would mean to the servant. Asfor the man of the house, who would probably feel that the time was very much out of joint if he should not find a dinner of many courses awaiting him on his arrival from work, ho must be dealt with gently and persuasively. He must be shown that n cool, fresh alert wife is to be preferred above soups, and a maid of all work who will consent to stay a month is better than roasts. It may be difficult to convince him, but the sight of « delicious und satisfying suzamer supper will be a powerful argamont, The table will not necessarily be covered with may be used. be in their perennial state of brilliancy, but if the family owns anything odd or unneual, any- thing quaint and delicate in the line of table ware, the summer supper is the place for its display. It is also the place for the exhibition of wonderful taste in the arrangement of low glass dishes filled with flaming nasturtiums or restful green leaves. On this esthetically pleasing board such dishes should find themselves as are cooling ‘and can be prepared early in the morning. when strength and the kitchen fireare both at their best. There may be vegetable salads, pre- pared early in the day and left on ic ore may be delicious sliced meats, ham, tongue and chicken. All sorts of dainty sandwiches should be there—egg, cheese, lettuce and the like. French rolls, made crisp by heating in a tin over the gas stov few minutes before serv- ing, are gool. Graham bread and sweet, hard butter will have a new flavor when it becomes ‘an important part of the meal. Then there must be a — bowl of berries and plenty of sugar and cream for them. Cookies, wafers and light cakes should be served with the berries. Sometimes a cold dessert, prepared early in the day, may take the place of the fruit. Apple snow, floating islands, custards, blano mange, meringues and the like are iight and refreshing and will serve to vary the monotony. For drinks there are iced tea and coffee, lem- onade, orangeade and half a dozen others, for which’ each family is sure to have cherished recipes. The syllabub, dear to the housewives of half a century ago, makes an excellent drink for summer suppers. It is made by grating the tind and squeezing the jaice of three lemons, adding a quart of sugar and a pint of sherry. When these are mixed a quart of rich cream is slowly added, and the whole mixture whipped in the usual way. It only the man of the house will consent to take his necessary chop and baked potato down town at his luncheon hour, and the woman of the house will eat a satisfying and sensible luncheon with the children at home, there is no reason why the summer supper should not become a permanent institation and the millen- nium be thereby advanced a century or two. 8. DOUGHNUTS, MOTHE! The Young Husband Gives in to One of His Young Wife's Trick: From the New York Commercial Advertiser. “Lottie,” said the young husband, as he sulkily munchei his provender, “couldn't you make some doughnuts like mother used to make?” “Tecan try,” said the young wife, faintly, as she recoiled from the shock, and no more said on the subject then. A day or two afterward Mrs. Lottie wrote to her mother-in-law asking for a recipe for thove same doughnuts, “Lam going to surprise Harold with them ihe concluded the letter. ‘The receipt came. It was in quite a differ- ent shape from what she had expected, but it pleased her very much. “Dear Harold will be so grateful,” she said to herself, but she hadn't half gauged the depths and shades of dear Hurold's appetite yet. “Doughnuts,” he sniffed, as he sat down to supper. “Oh, did youever write to mother for her receipt?” “Yes, and this iit,” said Lo: smile. with a is? Not much it ia! Why, phew! Rock salt and saleratus! And they're as tough as gate hinges. Wh: nnot the women of today do anything as our mothers did? Now, these doughnuts have no shorting in them, and mother—" “Don’t say any more, Harold,” said his wife, quietly. “Your mother made those doughnuts and sent them by express. They are only twenty-four hours old, and they are like the old-fashioned doughnuts always are—made of raised dough. Try another.” But Harold sulked and Lottie went to the piano and softly sang: Mother, tan my little jacket, ‘As you used to do long ago, ee ee ‘Why She Siniled. From Life. He—She smiled when I told her that joke. came down on Paris from England a royal high ness and the queen's aid, nearly s dozen gen- | She—“Did she? She must think she has pretty teeth.” HISTORIC TRAILS. Paths in Trackless Lands Made by |e seus Early Explorers. THERE WERE SEVEN NOTED ONES IN ALL They Went From the Missouri to the Pacific. NEARLY OBLITERATED NOW. HE COWBOY I8 going, the historic trails are gone or nearly so, What there is left of them unfurrowed by the plow is quarter sectioned till it looks like a chess board laid off with barbed wire, and the chessmen are thrifty ranchmen and farmers who can't be stampeded and whose homes can't be jumped nor “appropriated.” The obliteration of those trails and the consequent disappearance of the cowboy and the cattle “drives” deprives the ‘west of its most picturesque . feature, one that has but recently been recognized in literature and which has given to the language some of its richest and most expressive words and phrases, ‘Thone trails were historic land marks, the first ones only half century younger than the discovery of the new world by Columbus, but they were not blazed by cowboys, That in- teresting and intense character had not yet ap- Sor in the landscape. When he came some years later he simply approved the course sand fol =~ of the early pathfinders, and following in their footsteps rounded up for himeelf a truly aston- ishing amount of notoriety, which is often mis- taken for fame, The first of these traile—there are seven that may be considered historie—started from the west, and was made by Franoisco Vasques de Coronado, one of Cortex’s gi when he started out to seek the ‘seven cities of Cibola” in the “kingdom of Lvivirs.” Of course every | dia: vestige of the trail made by the celebrated Spanish explorer and his little band of follow- ers in their march across the plains was oblit- erated centuries ago. Yet the exploits of those seekers after gold must ever stand as the grandest recorded in history. years after Columbus landed on San Salvador rehabilitating elements have probably 80 altered the face of the country that Coro- nado would not recognize @ foot of it, though he had passed over it twice. Mr. Ingalls writes as follows of this first pathfinder of the plains: With w little army of 800 Spaniards and 800 Mexicans he marched northward from Culecan, then the limit of Spanish dominion, on an er- rand of discovery and spoliation. Crossing the mountain reached the sources of the Del Norte, tinued northeasterly into the Mississippi valley, dercending from the plainsto th ing the present area of Kanans dingonally nearly to the fortieth degree of north latitnte. At the farthest point renehed in his explorations he erected a bigh cross of wood with the inscrip- tion “Francisco Vasquez, the Coronado o mander of an expedition, reached this place. Very recently some excavations upon a farm in Atchison county, Kaneas, at a point near the fortieth degree of north intitude, have yielded up secrete of a civilization antedating anything now known on this continent, proving the truth of Mr. Ingalls’ conclusions and the statemont of another writer, who anid, ‘Coronado probably looked upon the Missouri river about where Atchison stands, from which point he turned back from his bootless mission a disappointed and heart-broken man.’ Coronado’s Trail. That Coronado made such a trail, his corre- spondence relates. To Mendoza in Mexico he wrote of the aweet wild fruits he found and snid: “I crossed mighty plains, sandy heathe smooth and wearisome and bure of wood and as full of crooked-backed osen as the mountain Sereva of Spain is full of sheep.” Coronado’s crooked-backed oxen were the bison, commonly miscalled buffalo, which have now entirely die appeared from their native haunts, which were always east of the Rockies, About sixty years later than Coronado, Don Juan de Ouate made almost the vame marzh, ‘and Penalosa followed him in 1662 ‘They were all alike bent upon a gold hunt and secondarily wished to plant the Jesuit cross where the In- dians wouldn't pull it up. ‘The Indians refused to be efvilized, though, and made signal fires of the cromes and targets of the self-criticing missionaries, ‘Trail blazing har always been at- tended more or less with incl dente of that nature. ‘The next patbfinders of the western part of the continent were Lewis and Clarke, who in 1804 commenced their remarkable journey of exploration and adventures across the conti- nent, They crossed the Kew—or Kansas river— at Kansas 4 journeyed north to where Atchison now stands, and then went on toward the sunset, where “Westward the Oregon flows and Walleway and Owyhee.” Traces of this trail are still visible, though both the Missouri and Kansas rivers have changed their course considerably since then, ‘The Santa Fe trail is the most notable of the seven. An old army officer, in speaking of these old trails recently, ex established by act of Congress in 1826, June of that year Maj. Sibley set out to survey it, starting trom Independence, Mo., and going on west to Santa Fe, N.M. The line of this can be traced almost in ite irety by the Santa Fe railroad, which follows almost exactly the old survey. “Ithas a history that never can be fully written, because the men who know most about it’aro mightier with the sword than the ee, said army officer whose service haa been largely on the frontier, where he had much to do with the establish- ment of new forts and military roads. “Yeu,” he continued, as he grew loquacious, “the Santa Fe is easily the most noted, and f doubt not it follows much the same route as that traveled by Coronado. It is the natural outlet over the mountains from New Mexioo, which territory he had explored fully, The landmarks which broke the monotony of thie trail in the early part of the century are going rapidly. Choteau’s Island is now given over to a slaughter pen. Pawnee Rock and Point of Rocks, scenes of tertible Indian battles, and once covered with names of national renown in military circles, have been quarried to the level round to furnish stone for stables and out- fuildings. A house’ at Pawneo Rock has in its wall tone with ‘Sherman’ deep in the soft surface. It was quarried from the historic elif” and was probably eut into the stone by some of Sherman's aids when he camped there just after the war on an inspecting tour. ‘It was from Bent's Fort, on this old Banta Fe trail, that General Stephen Watts uneleof that fighting Phil Kearney of the oivil war, set out on his expedition and took sion of New Mexico assoon as war had been when he left the fort. followed the Santa Fe trailover the Raton mountains to the then Mexican of Lae Vegas. Col. A. W. Donipon, too, of the first Missouri mounted volunteers, who was ordered by General Kearney to New Mexico, followed the old Santa Fe trail its whole length. “Passing through northern Kansas are two trails that lie close together for « long distance. ‘Their outlines can yet be traced by an old- timer. One is that of Gen. John 0. jont's expedition of 1843, the other that of the Mor- mon hegira from Mlinois about 1847. Their crossing of the Elk Horn and the tracks their wagons cut in the primitive buffalo sod on the hills above the stream ate still in evidence. It was on that 1843 trip that Fremont gave the name to the Smoky Hill river. The Denver trail, which was quite an important route, fol- lowed the Smoky Hill river closely its entire length. Ite deep ruts are visible in places where the plough has not penetrated. The Oregon and California Trail. “The Oregon aw California trail crossed the Blue river in Kansas and on to the erest of the Sierra Nevada, where at Lake Truckee, in 1846, the awful tragedy of the Reed and Donner expedition occurred, a chapter of human misery and suffering that has no parallel in fact or fiction. The little cabin on that blesk mountain crest where the snow-bound expedi- tion lapsed into cannibalism was burned in 1847 by order of Gen. Kearney, who camped at that point on his return from the conquest of California. “In 1848 another military road was surveyed. _] ple on that bistorle stream, the reputed bi It was onlyforty | from each it the head of the Gila river he | ¢, THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D. ©... SATURDAY. JULY 22. 1898—SIXTEEN -PAGES. ‘This was known as the trail.’ It is yot grits plat. Is was by William Emory, then the Us Btates ‘He was a Marylander when Sumter was at See he it his state would secede. be Pent pet pom te got his resignation and rose to the rank of major general. He wasan are i i e rE i ruinsthen - of Montezuma. It had been nearly for century. This was the Cicuyes of Coronado’s journal, and there he found the sacred fire burn nd the Aztec Es- tenfas set up the Church of the Cross, and for a bund ork “The Sheric juster trail of the winter ition of 1868-9 the Indians followed beaten trail to ge, in southwest and followed the neas river, on the north, back about twelve miles east; there it crossed the river and passed on down to Camp Supply, in Indian territory. The trail is in four wide tracks and is very plain. One of ite historic spots is Mount Jesus, in Clark county, Kan. It was in 1868, that Sheridan first received notice of his tment to the Meutenant generalship, vacant by the | ogee corel of Sherman to that of general, caused Grant's retirement on account of his tion to the presidency. Sheridan was riding north with me in my ambulance and just as we reached a point on the trail opposite Mount Jesus we discovered « homeman coming toward the ambulance en- veloped in a cloud of dust, As the scout drow near we saw that bis horse was white with foam tnd ready to drop with exhaustion. |The scout ree Sheridan, end, pulling a paper from the breast pocket of his flannel shirt, he jerked his hat and swung it high in the air, yelling at the top of his voice, ‘Hurrah for the lieutenant eral.’ Ho had in his hand the telegram noti- Sheridan of his confirmation and had been sent 0n @ scouting trip to round up little Those are the seven great trails which, start- at the ‘‘Kaw's mouth,” near Kan- sas City, reach out like great fingers through Kansas to Santa Fe end California, up north through Nebraska to Utah and Washington and Oregon and down through the territory into the anos of Texas. Like great ser- Ponts the sinuous sweeps of bare brown earth rept across the prairie toward where the sun went down. Sometimes the trail narrowed toa team or two abreast. This was where the In- were to have vantage ground for attacks. Then when great caravans or bodies of troops were marching the lines would spread ‘out on the level prairie until five or six trails cut into the for miles and miles in length. running pack. half, often a mile. separated other. short buffalo grav beaten into dust by the thousands of tramping feet followed the marching columns like « pillar of cloud, and ascending heaven ward warned the distant enemy that the hour for plunder and doath was near, Driving the Cattle. ‘When the Indians were driv en out of Kansas and Nebraska or confined to their reservations, the cattlemen took possession of the rich grass lands, and over these, some old trails, the cattle were driven to the cuttlemen’s paradiee, and for 1y yeure nearly they all but monopolized | the trail business. For the lust tive years the | cowboys have found the round-up a difticult tack, and a “drive” almost an impossibility. The old trails are fenced across, plowed under or hedged in, Grazing grounds were cut down by sections and townships and counties until the great herds of cattle could no longer be maintained. The cattiomen sold close until now they own hundreds where they once counted by thousands, and the railroads carry cheaper than the cattle could be driven from point to point, Civilization and civilization’s great motors, the railroads, have killed the cat- tle business of the plains. ‘The old trails die hard, though. Sometimes Agrain fleld will have outlined through ite whole length the spot where the old trail crossed it. The grain that grows there sprouts first, grows faster, is a richer green and gives a heuvier yield at harvest than the other land ad- — It isan uncanny thought to harbor, ut maybe it is because those old trailx have drunk to deep of the blood of ploneer martrrs, In 1870 the plains were white with bleaching bones, Bison, Indiai and often carcasses of white men all lay there whitening in the sun. Cholera twice swept along those old trails like a cyclone and lined the roadside with unburied dead. Indian bat- tles and pitiless massacres spilled human blood every day during the years from 1860 to 1870. Smalipox was epidemic many seasons and the unburied victims lay where they died miserably and alone. Whole wagon trains were sometimes lett aba: toned when death drove, and humans, horses, mules and cattle perished together, the one of disease, the others of slow starvation and thirst. The bison that once held full sway on the plains were merci- lesaly shot by thousands for their fur to make robes and their bodies were left to rot where they fell. When the great ‘cattle drives” were ‘on the grass often dried up till there was no nutrition in it, and the few streams went dry. ‘Then the cattle died by tens of thousands. In the first years of the settlement of Kansas and Colorado, Nebraska, Dakota and Wyoming the et Vereen bond the country was the collect- ig of these bones, which sold for $4 and 850 ton, to be used as fertilizers. Along the rai roads, where they were hauled for shipment, they were piled up high above the freight oar roofs, and extended for a mile or more along the tracks, Men with teams made big money for fears st this business. In California they hedge farme with cactus; in Virginia stumps of trees answer the purpose, and in Massachusetts the only thing to do with the “nigger heads” 1s to build stone fences that are down, but in nd “sixties” were once set about with cheraux de frise of buffalo and Texas cattle skulls! Ghsstly and grinning with enormous steers’ horns, interlocked with the ‘blunt ones of the bison, ‘the cattle that had yielded up the ghost to the depletion of some cattle baron’s it book, because of too scanty forage, by my of fate were themselves set up as a bresstwork against the Troe lo depredations their hungry kindred might make on the corn and rye fields of the thrifty settlers. Tt those old trails had tongues their ante- mortem stories would rival thote of the oru- sades, but well for the world the victims of their sco sleep soundly. Sometimes in those vast wheat fields where the tallest and thickest the reaper will come su: deniy upon & spot of earth, bare of herbage except for a nodding sunflower perhaps, ite sunken surface almost covered with a rattling crose clumsily made of tumato boxes, ur @ broken wagon tongue. Names and dates, if any there were, are long years since obliterated,but by that holy token the stranger knows that the diust that once encased @ eoul slumbersas calmly in that wheat field and as free from the de- spoilor's bands as though reposing in Arlington under tons of carved stone. There are hun- dreds of these lonely graves throughout the west, and tells that women and little aS ‘fll Since above these old trails in grows stronger and sweeter, the prarie flowers bloom brighter and sunflowers “gather in battalions,” it may be Khaggam was the true one that: * © Never Tre torn, where tote buried Cesar bled.” The old Roman might not like the compari- eon, but he is probably too dead to care. Teapet, Wonnert, Batt. too wadly Lemonade Beats Bandoline. From the Younxstown (Ohio) Evening Telerram. “I was out to a dance recently,” said an ac- quaintence to me, ‘and « fanny thing hap- pened. It was notso very funny, either, but it made me laugh after it was over. You see, 4t was as hot asa bake oven and the room was crowded to suffocation. Ihada girl and we were waltzing around as best we could whi suddenly the girl gasped, noppel . and said, ‘Get me out to the air.’ ‘I stop) d released her and offered her my arm, when bump! down she went on the floor ina heap. Fainted away, see? Dead asa herring. Whatdidido? Why, I tried to pick her up and gouldn't do it, for she wasa heavy weight. Then I succeeded, with the aid of others, in getting her to the porch, bat she wouldn't revive | Then I ran to the refreshment room for water, but the tank was empty and the only thing’ they had was lemonade. Something had to be done and I got two glasses, ran back and emptied their contents into her face—not exactly ‘into,’ but ‘onto.’ After using 90 cents’ worth of nice, sweet lemonade she came to. Well, say! you ‘would have died to see her hair. Sticky? Why, Dandoline, quince seed, gum arabic and kin- beats Wasshe mad? Well, I guess = ‘She said I was intoxicated and « natural aioe Some one else took her home; I Nicer Than Naughty. From the Troy Press. A ballet dancer isn’t so disagreeable a crea- ture as one might suspect from the fact that she is always kicking for more pay. PURSUED BY A TORNADO. How a Funnel-Shapec Cloud Ghased Two Men on an Engine. A Chase for Life—Directly in the Path of the Tornado—They Made the Bend Just in Time to Escape. “I don't believe that fright ever turned a "s bair white off-hand.” said Henry mine would not be as black as you see them now, for I will venture to say that no man ever went through a more fear-inspiring experience than I did once. Tell you the story? Why, certainly. ButIam not very good at « varn, and I can only-give you the bare facts without - | descriptive ornamentation. “Tt happened this way. ‘The year was 1878 or 1879, Lforget which. Anyway it was some time in July, The weather had been pretty hot, and it was jast the sort of day for breeding vad getting ahead of my story already, not being very expert in the way of anecdote, T was working on a one-boree in south- ern Ki by itendent wired me to fetch my engine » miles to a place called wanted to haul a lot of perishable market produce, which bad got some cpp = we Fd =a of spoiling. A suit a com: might have followed, and the ‘business bo attended to in hurry. | ‘Thete were only seven locomotives on the road, barring two or pe Oh “Well, not to be too long-wi foel and water aboard as quickly as Dowie and started for Peterstown, taking it rather easily, because the track wasn't in condition to fast running well. I was about an hour out from my starting place, and had gone sixteen miles perhaps, when I noticed some queer-look- ing clouds on ‘the western horizon. Unnataral Appearance of Everyth! t “The day was extremely sultry, and there was acurious sort of glare over the landscape which made it look sort of feverish. I can't think of a better word for describing it. There was something unnatural about the appearance of everything. My fireman was a boy who bad been brought ‘up in that region. and be said hat it looked ike a tornado coming. He ought to have been ® good judge of the toms, because the whole of is family, together 4F ra t iy amg ih HAY He i € of about seventy | Denmark, articles on the loaf is really out of the dietetic ranning? ‘The miller at present does the blending for bakers, and from too often but if the baker id live stock, bad been | #8 wiped out by such a ‘twister,’ as they call ‘em, ‘when he was hardly old enough to toddie. “By the time we had gone may be eight or nine miles farther a deuse bank of clouds bad spread around toward the southwest, It was binck as ink, but beneath it was a blank streak of white. I never seen anything that looked quite ube it en As ¥ —, at it the bank hugher, saw some- thing like» sharp point of cloud t itself downward from the black mass. ‘this time there was no thunder nor lightning, but only a look about the sky that was fal to see, becanse it was so unnatural-like. It seemed as af something awful was going to haj was the boy who called my attent pointed cloud, and he said it wase tornado beginning. “I pretended not to be afraid, and said that if it wns a ‘twister’ it would not be likely to hit us. But he was as pale as a ghost. he: ‘Don't you see that it is directly southwest of us?” ‘Why, certainly,’ Ire} “What of that?’ “They always travel northeast,’ he said, ‘and we are rignt in the track of it!" ‘Then we'll run away from it, I guees, says I, pulling the throttle wide open. But the boy, he anid nothing—only watched the clouds in the distance. “By this time the pointed cloud hed got very much bigger, the lower end of it nearly touching the ground, ' It grew rapidly larger and larger and seemed to be approaching at agreat rate of speed, while the rest of the view toward the west aud southwest became blurred to the eye, | so that nothing could be made out very clearly. T caw that it was a tornado that was coming, and no mistake. for the strange ne winch had the shape of a gigantic peg-top, was tinetly outlined in its Tnky blackness against the general blur. I began to feel pretty badiy frightened myself. Now and then, when Icould take my eye off the cloud, I looked at the boy; but he only on tin the cab, reat peg-top starting ips. Finally I said: i si *“Do you think we are going to escape ‘are right in its track,’ be said, without looking at me. ‘ou see, we were running in an alr line over the prairie, directly northeast, and pursuing the very path in which the tornado was coming. Any other course, with the steam I had on, already done so three or four times since the strange cloud was sighted. But it was no use. The engine was doing ite best, and she wasn't = of more than about thirty-eight miles au hour. “It's gaining on us,’ Isaid. ‘How fest does such a thing as thet travel?’ “About a bundred miles au hour,’ replied the boy, white as a sheet. A Chase for Life. “If that had been true I would not be here to tell the story. nado can do. My belief is that this one was going at about sixty mile Any way it wasn't More than six or seven = Ginna by tle time, an ing on us rapidly. cuink wos correc Ss Souhd autdh ts inte Mom to whirl ty, and from it came @ sound acfoss the prairie as of with a voice so awful that the rumbling of tho locomotive was lost in it. Of the destraction it was accomplish! my point of view. settlements in that two or art of ths country, Dut , Dut ae ree small hemiete at full the people feot—and clutched my arm. head, and he yelled into my ear the words: "Make the Bena? “I knew what he meant on the instant, Less than ten miles ahead of us was a over a river, after crossing which the warned through ny oon: Population as possible. The only i of it ine straight line was just wl caught by the tornado. If we bend abead ite track. “As you may well i tunity to consider seorgien’ plan tail, but it struck me like = life sure enough. If pulled the whistle cord Tray be heard in the roscing ardly of erate mallee passed, os well as I ‘Six mi 00 woll as end the monster was only about hind. Three miles more and it the distance by 4 mile at least. ear the river, A minute late running across io heed the warning hat ‘tenine rast over this stream,’ in obedience to post, “Over the bridge, we flew around nad dashed away southward, just in time to the mighty balloon pass by with » whitl anda Toar, as if all the demons inthe infernal regions F ite HI tall | Dutit wasn't there, twas clean gone, and such remains of it as were left were scattered all over the country. The road dred concoctions were not in it. Lemonade | the of repairing it nearly bai ‘the company. Eleven le lost their lives by that a which afforded me an experience which I not repeat for all the money in the world.” or & He (with ardor)—“Let me kiss you, dar- a She (with embarrassment)—‘Ob, no; don’t!— but burry, I hear some one coming.” —Liye. 2 an’ leave him my H 5EE 5 > 3 g j : 4 8 3 it ted Hy z & ¢ : £ Hg i 8. “But I guessa Turk kin walk the streets without bein’ arrested of | more fundamental and established than the re- ‘malcontents, | ned sensibilities of his moral nature. Hence, while the inhibitory properties of alcuhol exert comparatively small power over the brutish in- stincts of theanimal man, they may deaden the moralfeelings. Criminal preclivities relieved from the obstructions and i : ri eS eli eUMerecite l ddetdie aiiete ile eta or forty years ago, which used to interest me very much. Who that is old enough cannot re- call the story of the baggage master and the circus man's snake? The circus man's trunks, it will be remembered, had been st one time and another pretty roughly handled, and soone day he got e rather flimsy trunk and put in ite constrictor twenty-two feet long, and be marked on the outside of the trunk: “Don't i “4 4i juss pUb OU Lhus teuler's good Ciothes | break! Boa constrictor inside.” rage. “Oh, I've just been waiting for somebody to ships boa constrictor by this line.’ sid the baarage emasher, and he grabbed the tear by one of its handles, in to toms it over i il FF i { i i § HH ej i i il F i Fi stelette t He Hai H g § i F How the Velocity of = Projectile is Meas ured When It Leaves the Gus. From the New York Press. “The epeed of every sort of projectile ean be measured now to the fraction of an ineh per second, and by calculating the resistance of the air it can be determined to the smallest frae- tion of « second just how long it will takes first 200 feet from the mouth of the gun is measured by {t to give the initial velosity of “A line 200 feet long is marked from the At the 100-foot marke the wires of the first screen one of the reds is released and falls, W =j & wanda 30 On farther and passes thro A second erreen the second bar falls and strikes «catch that re- Jeases a sharp knife which notches the first bar in ite descent. The position of that noteh is what we use in calcuiating the of thesbot “The slower the shot is traveling) the longer ‘es it to reach the second screen, and, con- opal the farther the bar will fall before the knife is released to mark it “By this means the speed of some cannon balls bas been found to be as great as 3,000 feet a second where the charge uf powder was heavy jenough, but generally the imitinl velocity of | an ordinary missile is not over 1,200 feet ® seo | ond.” | Prom the “eo Frane ‘An Alamods man sought refuge from the noite and «moke of the Fourth by going into the country. As he Iay upon tho grass be rioved his toes in the mere wantonncess of exu- berance. and hunter, teking thera for the age {of a rabbit, filled chem full of shot