Evening Star Newspaper, August 12, 1893, Page 12

12 ‘THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D. ©. SATURDAY. AUGUST 12, 1893-SIXTEEN PAGES. HISTORY OF RIDING. How the Saddle Has Developed From Early Times. FASHIONED BY DIFFEREN® NAMIONS. Some Are Very Richly and Curiously Ornamented. INTERESTING FACTS. HE VERY NAME of saddle epitomizes the history of riding from the period of picturesque ornamen- tation to the present day of trig simplic- ity for park or hunt- ing field. The horse has always advanced his costume with that of his rider. In me- dieval days the knights and dames decorated their steeds and palfreys with rich velvets and satins superbly em- broidered with threads of gold or sewn with pearis and jewels, and the horse that bore kking or queen was no less proud in armo- rial bearings and magnificent apparel than they. Every nation brings a new saddle to in- erease our catalogue—the Mameluke, his of crimson velvet; the Tartar, polished wood; the Persian, painted gilt and inlaid with ivory: the Moor, scarlet velvet; the Sicilian, gaudy bead; the Soudanese, sewn with gazelle sinew and covered with croco- dile hide; the Mexican, leather richly deco- Yated; the Bokhaean, painted wood interset with bone; while from Bombay and the Pun- Jaub come those of purple and stlver; from the South Sea Island, saddles decorated with cowrie shelis, and Iceland sends a species of chair covered with repousse brass. Some idea of the importance of saddlery Til De, Tecetved when it ls said that Eng- land exports to foreign ports annually an amount of saddlery ‘and harness that is valued at half a million of pounds. None of this comes to this country, where it is believed that American leather is the best im the world. “All saddies are made on the McClellan model, veed alike for civil and mili purposes. cousists of two Straps of beachwood, which, form a skelo- ton or frame, strengthened by iron braces. and over this a covering of tanned pigskin is while stirrups hung to the same stout leather complete the structure. ‘The difference between this war saddle and that of the thirteenth century portrayed by Niolieg, te Duc. supplied with @ high and cantle, ¢ wi ie knlg Brorpes. while he held his lance @ firm and straight attitude, is the contrast drawn by Sir Wal- Talisman” of the two in the desert—Sir Ken- it ge . While plumes rose above horses’ and bits and bridles were of solid while flowing tassels streamed from delis made music for the necks = the foe Cpe cloths covered horses’ sides, the Egyptians. Assyrians, Persians and Greeks, despite these elegan: : rode on simple pads or cushions sim- flar to those still used by the Bedouins of The Scandinavians, however, used the saddle as far back as the [ron Age, and the bronze pommels and stirrups now to be seen in the museum in Copenhagen fo that their workmanship Anglo-Saxon Saddles. to pictorial representations the horse’s back. The pad was frequently decorated with a fringe of tufts of hair, Probably the tails of some animal. The gnds of the pad were slightly raised with a foreshadowing of pommel and cantle of @ later development. The Normans gave lence to pommel and cantle, which their hands rose to a considerable t im a curvilinear form. Some ex- rt tations of this type are seen in the celebrated Bayeux tapestry, Supposed to have been le by Matilda, wife of the Conqueror. We must re- to mind that to the prominent pommel his saddle William the Conqueror lost Ufe, for according to the old historians horse treading on burning embers of Tuined city of Mantes reared and threw rider upon the le. the inent iron pommel caused his death. BF Eta oli which pierced his body and Blucher’s Saddle. ext change in saddi occurred about the thirteenth century, when jousts and ments becam lar in Eng- method of consisted between horsemen armed with pee ay —_ was to tumble out of the saddle. Stiting sefdie™ ‘then becane siadie. | The round the sides encompassing the loins of the rider. Many of t - rare pee saddle bow e following century a Was introduced for the protection rider's thighs. This extended down of the horse and was attached forming a part of it. dropped into ‘his saddle. curious specimen of this Genertncion eee —— fif- reserve in th don, bought in 1%3 from the Baron de Peuker of Her- made of wood and covered with ganvas. upon which there ‘h: forma shield forthe Were shteld for t of the Knight who, when fairly meansee would be carried forward in washer than a sitting posture, © ANNs also owns another Po ee i aS @round ‘and hatchings fitted with cols: | after the manner of enameling. An in- scription in the old German is inscribed m it—“Ieh hoff des pesten dir geling. iif Gott wol auf Sand lorgen nam” @ hope the best fortune may attend you. May God assist you in the name of St. Tilting Saddle. George). Four other saddles of a similar Sief'are fs existence, cue et the arecsal in Schaffhausen, one in the Museum at Ratisbon, a third in the Renne collection in Constance and the last in the Germanic Mihe saddler’s art in the middle ages was brought to a degree of perfection which the present age has never seen and scarcely Feallzes. The horse cloth, which was in- troduced about the twelfth century, and the coverings for the haunches and neck rep- resen' in Norman manuscript are rich with armorial decorations and are often Dlazoned with numerous quarterings. In the olden times knights and ladies were not content to ride on plain leather seats, and consequently their saddles were covered with thick velvets of splendid color, richly embroidered, gilded,carved, painted, studded with rare gems and precious stones or seeded with pearis. It is not difficult to ap- preciate the saying that a “knight often wore his castie on his horses’ back.” The back of the raised cantle was the chosen The Pillion. field for the fancies of the saddler, its flat surface offering a suitable place for the de- vices that were carved or painted here. Birds and flowers were the favorite sub- jects for the ladies’ saddles, introduced by Queen Anne, the wife of Richard II, who taught her female attendants to ride side- ways, while battle scenes were chosen for the men. Previous to this the ladies had ridden behind their knights on a pillion. The Archdeacon of Bath, alluding to the unmartial manners of some of the knights of his time, says that “they cause to be painted wars and equestrian contests on saddles and shields in order that they may please themselves with an imaginary sight of battles which they dare not ac- tually set upon or see.”” From the ordinances of the Saddlers’ Company of London we learn that in the fourteenth century three guilds were impli- cated in the making of saddles—the joiners, who made the saddle tree; the painters, who decorated the saddle, and the saddlers, who were responsible for the important work. Among the directions of the period is @ prohibition against painting in gold or gilding the back of a saddle save in Jaying on of pure gold, yet the maker is al- lowed to paint the saddle bow in front ac- cording to the dictation of his fancy. The oldest English saddle in existence is that of Henry V, representing the examples fm use in the fifteenth century. All that remains of this is the saddle tree, which is of oak, and still retains the padding of hay covered with canvas. Saddle of Henry V. ‘This historical relic, which is now over Henry's tomb in Westminster Abbey, was originally resplendent with blue velvet yw with golden fleur de Jvs, (possibly memory of Agincourt. The le is twenty-seven inches in length. Many mag- nificent examples of the saddler’s skill in the sixteenth century still exist. A fine col- lection in the Royal Museum of Dresden contains one specimen owned by the King of Saxony, the bows of which are orna- mented with elaborate representations of battle scenes, griffins, sea monsters and rich foliage, some of these being in repousse, others in intaglio and chasing. There ix a splendid collection too, of these armored saddles in Madrid, made in the same cen- tury. Some of these are of velvet, mas- sively embroidered in precious metals Damascened or chased in gold with designs of spirited and beautiful workmanshin, In the “Calendar of State Papers” for the year 1670 there is a description of a saddle used by Queen Elizabeth, who was especial- ly fond of riding. The record is a warrant to pay the sum of i266 13s. 4d. to David Smyth, the queen's embrofderer, for a side saddle of black velvet richly embroidered ‘ith gold and pearls, and the harness, &c., of silk and gok Richly Ornamented. The saddle under the reign of James I. became less elegant, but Charles I, who at- tempted to revive knightly customs, return- ed to the sumptuous saddle. His state sad- die was a gorgeous affair, being of crimson velvet richly embroidered, while the saddle- cloth, also of crimson velvet, was covered thickly with seed pearis. The head stalls, reins and stirrup-leathers were also lux- urious and effective. ‘The accompanying illustration shows the saddle useq by King Charles I. at the bat- Ue of Naseby, 1645, when the royal troops were defeated by the parllamentary army. The second one was used by Prince Ru- pert on the same occasion. Oliver Crom- well used a large plain-flapped saddle, very heavy and cumbrous, like the ponderous Flemish animal which he bestrode. The next century brought the type of saddle which, with various minor changes influ- enced by military requirements, has sur- vived unto the present day, and which does not seem likely to be superseded in the main lines of its construction. The saddle rooms at Windsor Castle con- tain the sumptuous trappings belonging to Tippo Sahib’s war horse, of crimson and green velvet, rich with embroidery of gold and silver wire; the magnificent Turkish horse caparison, embroidered with gold on $yimson satin. once the property of George IIL; 2 complete set of Indian adornments of Ted, green, sflver and gold presented to the queen by the Thakoor of Moiri; a Per- sian chabraque of crimson silk ‘covered ‘with golden sprigs; the saddles used by the queen for reviews and public ceremonies, and the two sets of state harness embel- lished with coats of arms. The Empress ‘Tippo Suhib’s Saddle. Eugene still preserves the black harness, ornamented wit! imperial arms, which belonged to Napoleon Ill, as well ag the red velvet saddle, splendid sad- die-cloth and golden stirrups used by him in_the disastrous campaign of 1870. While the trappings of the horse have been he | simpler in the western coun- tries, the orlental taste has remained the leather same during a score of centuries. From Constantinople to Bagdad and from Bag- Gad to Deihi the traveler becomes familiar with horses proudly caparisoned with pa- naches, tassels and bells in profusion, rich- jy colored housings and furniture in purple or crimson satin with braid of gold, applique work, and frequently decorated with jewels. hing gay and glittering, but never out of harmony with the picturesque sur- roundings. — PAID UP LIKE A MAN. He Came From Lexington Kept His Word in Chicago. From the Chicago Tribiine. He was short, had stubby red chin whisk- ra, wore one of those little turn-down col- lars which the Beau Brummells of back counties affect, and was evidently a tiller of the soll. He was im such a hurry that he forgot to knock when he entered the Trib- une office at the world’s fair grounds, and all he blurted out when he got well inside the door was: “Say! It took him two minutes to get his breath, and then he continued: “Say, I've got $ in the office down town. It's in an envelope and my name's on it. When I got im town this morning I seed a couple of fellows # follering me and one of “em tried to put his hand in my pocket, so I walked right up to your office and left the % there, for I wanted something to get back to Lexington, Ill, on.” ‘Well, what do 'you ~ant?" ‘What do 1 want? 1 want a dime to get out of this place. When I put that five up in the office I kept @ dollar and sixty-tive cents, and I have done and spent it all, every’ cent of it. I thought I had a dime in my pocket and I kept a feelin’ and feelin’ of it and holding on to it, but jest now, when I started to go back to town, 1 pulled it out and it was nothing but a dogoned measly cent, and here it is.” AR from, the innermost recesses of his rousers pocket the wanderer from Lexing- ton, IlL, produced a little copper coin. “And say,” he went om, “let me have that dime. I'll see that you get it from that five T've got down town.” Before extending the financial assistance requested the man in the office said “What did you do with your $1. did you spend it?” A smile of joy bzoke over the countenance of the agriculturist and he began: “Had four beers, ‘en I seed 2 woman play- in’ an organ and I gave her a dime and bought her a beer. I went down the “Pleasawnce’ and—" here his voice fell to a whisper, “and went into Kiero, and to tell you the truth, mister, 1 went in there wiet. Then the old man stopped a minute, looked out of the window at the stately white home of electricity, and, in a changed tone of voice, continued: "il tell you, mister, my little measly mind can’t comprebend ‘this thing. It’s too great. It’s too darned big for me to under- stand. Just about a year ago I come up to Chicago with some hogs, and I come down here and looked over the grounds and there didn't seem to be nothin’, and now I come down here today and—and—well, dog on it, it’s too big, it’s too big for me. ‘Down hum I've got $0 saved up—$i0. An’ I've got a woman and a gal who's just gtown up, and when I get back there I'm goin’ to say to ‘em: ‘Take just as much of that $40 ag you want, take it all, if you cal- kerlate you'll need i, and go and see that gy “But say,” and here he came back to the question before the house, “say, mister, you will let me have that dime to get back to town, won't you? I'll leave it for you out of that ‘five. He left the office with a silver ten-cent piece firmly grasped between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, and, to the honor of the horny-handed tiller of the, soll from Lexington, lil, be it said, that he “left that dime" for the man who had relieved his financial distress with the business of- fice employe who was acting as his safety deposit vault. ——___+e-+-___ A FRIEND IN NEED. But He Handicaps His Goodn. a Licking to the Recipient. From the Detroit Free Press. “{ don’t belteve anything I hear,” satd the drummer, “but when I hear a good thing I try to, and it is quite as beneficial in ts results. “What is it now?" asked the hotel clerk, tickling his diamond with his whiskers. “I heard a story in New York recently,” continued ;the drummer. “A millionaire there, a man of about forty, had « friend of the same age who went broke, and he let him have $00 for thirty days. At the end of the time the man had disappeared end the banker was dead sore. He felt so bad over it that he said all sorts of mean things about the absent one, but that didn't bring him back. “Five or six years passed and the mil- Monaire became involved in a speculation and was about to have the life squeezed out of him. One morning while he was worrying himself sick over his ousiness a stranger came into his office. After intro- ducing himself he asked the broker about the friend who had disappeared with the $00. The broker fired up and gave his friend such a blasting that even the stranger was shocked and suggested that he mollify his wrath and modi: his opin- fons. ‘By the way,’ said the stranger, changing the’ subject, ‘I hear you are in a tight place. "The broker, nodded. ‘If I don't zet $150,- 000 by 3 o’clo&k this afternoon I'm a yon- ‘So a man told me on the street,’ said the visitor, and he put his hand in his pocket and’ brought a slip of paper out. “There.” he went on, ‘ts a certified check for the amount, which I am going to let you have to get you out of the hole, but before you shall have it I'm going to give you a licking for talking so about that friend of yours. Get ready.’ “The broker was dazed by the check and the proposition, but he threw off his j coat and prepared to defend himself. But it was not much use. The stranger mop- Ded up the floor with him and at lust jam- med him down onto his chair in a state of wreck. “Then the stranger sat down and looked at him, and the broker returned the gaze curiously. At last he stuck out his hand. ““By jove, old man,’ he exclaimed, ‘I didn’t know you. I deserve the licking, but I don’t deserve that certifled check. “But his friend tnsisted on it, and then explained how he had gone west and in lucky speculations had made a big pile and had come back to square up accounts, and that was how he was doing It. Now, isn’t that a pleasant story to come out’ of a matter-of-fact place like New York cluded the drummer very cheerfully. cos FRUIT AND THE CHOLERA, With Cleanliness and Ripeness As- sured Fruit is Not Dangerous. From the New York Herald. “Many people are grossly mistaken in their notions about fruit eating in its re- lation to cholera,” remarked my friend, the doctor, as he helped himself to another peach. ‘They have an idea,” he continued, “that fruit taken into the stomach renders the system more susceptible to cholera and thus invites an attack of the disease. Noth- ing could be wider of the mark. It is not against fruit itself, but against its condi- tion that physicians object during hot weather and in cholera seasons. Frult that is ripe, clean and sound may be eaten safely at all times, while that which ts unripe, un- clean or decayed ts always dangerous, no matter whether there is cholera in the neighborhood or not. The custom so generally observed of cut- ting off the family supply of fruit morely because cholera threatens an invasion of our ports 1g foolish and reprehensible in the extreme. Fruit is an important article of our natural and. best summer diet, 1nd to abolish it from the table during the hot weather, substituting for it a lot of other food products of heavier, coarser and le: tempting character,is both foolish and cruel. My advice is don’t’ give up the fruit. Make sure thet it is ripe and clean and then you may eat it freely without risk. The juices of our native fruits instead of being debili- tating to the stomach are among the best tonics for tt. They are cleansing, cooling and anti-scorbutic in their action. ‘They may never have cured a case of cholera, but When taken after proper care tn the matter o' ness they never led to i of that oF any other disease. eee e one great evil to guard against i frult, as in“everything else ‘we eats Is un: cleanliness. Don't buy fruit from. street corner dealers whose stock lies all day ex- posed to the foul air of the curbs and gutters, where it is handled and picked over Ly every person who stops to buy an oranze or a peach. Buy of your grocer, even if his rices are a little higher, and trust to his Integrity and business tact to give ycu fruit that is ripe, cool, clean and fresh. Above all things beware of the peddlers, who with carts and trays haunt the side streets and rear of areas offering fruit which is, as a rule, unsound or of second ality, and not unlikely to have passed through many hands, some of them foul and unclean. It 1s through such dealers that Alsease is spread, and when It happens that way the senseless cry _— ee that every- body must stop eating fruit. It is much as if we should all be told to stop eating meat merely because our neighbors was served with a tainted steak or a bit of immature veal by his butcher.” The teacher asked the class wherein lay the difference in meaning between the words “sufficient” and “enough.” 3 SuMicient,”"" answered Tommy, “ta when mother thinks it's Ume that I stopped eat. ine nite; ‘enough’ is when I think it is” COLLECTORS’ FADS. Curious Things That Seem to Ab- sorb Different Persona. VAGARIES OF THE COLLECTING. MANIA. Some Prominent People Who Spend Time and Money IN ADDING SPECIMENS. HERE SEEMS TO be no oursuit more absorbing than that ® of the collector, es- pecially when prac- ticed in relation to objects which the vast -najority of mankind regard as unimportant. With some people it is a lfe-long manta; with others an ai dent, if not interent, occupation, and with others, again, a mere temporary fad—one of a series of whims as fantastic and changeful as a summer's day. When a person not mad enough to be dangerous or to keep his relatives in con- Stant fear for their lives takes to amassing cast-off buttons of celebrities, boot heels, corks, warming pans or any other special class of relatively insignificant articles he usually applies the whole persistency of his nature to the realization of his “fixed idea” with more energy than he could summon for the devotions to ordinary every-day I'fe and its avocations. The collector possessed of a demon of specialism must necessarily be something of a recluse and mixantirope. His ruling passion often develops the maniac in his nature, always cr: more treasures, not only for the deli their possession and for a harm! riety that they give to their owner, but also to excel dangerous rivals, for the es- sence of the collective feculty, which would seem to differentiate main trom beast, 1s competition. “If a man were alone in the world,” says Kant, “he would call nothing mine,’ for there is’no relation between him anda thing. The relation Is between him and other people whom he ex- cludes from the thing. Changing Vagaries. The vagaries of the collecting mania are mutable from year to year, with the excep- tion of a few, which even wayward fashion never succeeds in expressing. Kver sinc the plastic arts and literature first «1 ened the lives of men there have bee lectors of books, statues and pictur jects which may fluctuate in price, but which never pass out of vogue. To the realm of art belong also the innumerable private cotlections of cameos, intaglios, ceramics, coins and medals, which are owned in every civilized country. Every now and then the heart of the dealer in curlos is gladdened by the resurrection of some dormant passion for a particular kind of porcelain or earthenware or for ivory carvings, fans, lace, stuffed birds, old wacches, miniatures or’ some expensive superfluity that the fancy of the hour may decree. All these revivals stimulate the collecting mania, besides raising the mar- ket for one clags of articles and depressing it for another. ‘Thus blue chita gives place to red, Limoges to Dresden, cloisonne to enamel, Valenciennes to Brussels and pugs to King Charles spaniels. It is in channels of eccentricity t individual usually distinguishes himself as a collector, gathering together trivia ithe such as snuff boxes, walking stic’ts, shoe buckles,” smelling bottles, tobacco stoppers, e., 80 that collections of pins, nal play Ditls and sword knots fu! the work of a (ifetime and sive so evanescent topics of conversation. ‘The Sense of Mine and Thine. Sometimes the ruling passion has been known to confuse the coliector's sense of “mine and thine,” and to lead him astray from the ths of virtue. Many curious in- stances of moral deterioration were afford- ed during the (ry of the tulip-col- lecting manta that raged in the low coun- tries two centuries ago and broke out afresh in France soon after the Bourbon restoration. One of Alexandre Dumas’ romances, “The Black Tulip,” describes the iniquitous attempts of a. tulip fancier to rob his successful rival of the glories incident to the production of new va- riety of the once paramountly fashionable flower. Alphonse Kart, tgo, in his “Voyage Autour de mon Jardin” fllustrates the moral perversion and extravagances of conduct generated by the tullp monomania. According to Karr flowers inspire the worst passions in the competitive collector, and of ali varietles of the monomantac the florist is the most ferocious—a fact that 1s, perhaps, verified by the zeal and reckless expendiiure of the enthusiast in orchtd: dmitting ‘that intellectual culture, generous coffer and abundance of time are essential to the collector, it is natural enough that those born in the purpose should display a special aptitude for this occupation. Frederick the Great was a famous eollector of snuff boxes and al- though thrifty in regard to household ex- penditure never grudged any outlay to ratify this taste. He was also a great Jog fancier, resembling Henri IIT of France, who was so fond of spaniels that he spent thousands of francs in obtaining choice breeds and frequently carried a lit- ter in a basket that was suspended around his neck. Charles I of England was also noted for his fondness for spaniels, hi: favorite breed being one famous toda: Richelieu collected cats; the poet Cowper tame hares; Alfierl, horses; the Marquis de Montespan, white mice brought. from Si- beria to roam his apartments in Ver- sailles, and the painter Razzi had a Noah's ark in number and variety of pets—equir- rels, apes, Angora cats, goats, pontes, dwarf asses, besides an enormous raven, who always ‘said “Come in” when any oné knocked and who had the air of owning the menagerie. The Princess of Wales is about to re- celve a present from a Danish land owner of a couple of every breed of dogs of her native country. These are to be sent to her in care of a veterinary surgeon, and each dog will wear a silver collar bearing the arms of its royal mistress. The col- lection of pets at Sandringham is already a large one. Some Royal Collectors, Some of the most eager and successful collectors of the present day are occupants of thrones or members of royal families. Among these Prince Lultpold, the regent of Bavaria, has the most complete and ex- tensive collection of beetles, and is also a skilled entomologist, deeply’ versed in the habits of ants, bees, moths, files, earwigs, wasps and everything that files, crawls or wiggles. Don Pedro, the late Emperor Brazil, captured and arranged a wonderful museum of butterflies, perhaps the most complete one in the world. Alexander Alexandreivich, Czar of all the Russia: has a splendid collection of birds’ egi and postage stamps, both of which he be- gan during his early youth. The King of Roumania is an indefatigable collector of autographs. King Oscar of Sweden and Norway, a writer of verses himself, collects books of poems enriched with the ‘authors’ signatures, and King Humbert of Italy has a fad for horses, keeping 150 in his stable: which he has constructed according to his original plans. The Duke of Edinburgh collects stamps. The Princess Maud of Wales has a curfous hobby for collecting ivory. At Marlborough house she has pre- served the tusks of elephants shot by her father and uncles, the “tvortes” of wal- ruses, seals, sharks, lions and alligators and the teeth of wild boars shot and sent by the Emperor of Russia to enrich her mu- seum. Phe specialty of Queen Margherita, the “Pearl of Savoy,” is ‘an assortment ot the gloves, boots and shoes worn by dis- tinguished persons. They include the san- dals of Nero, Rienzi's “throne shoe,” a ir of slippers and a fan that belonged to lary, Queen of Scots, and shoes worn by Queen Anne, Marie Antoinette and the Empress Josephine. Prince Ferdinand of Bulgaria is little renowned for anything save his huge collection of dressing gown: He has a perfect mania for these garment and has paid as much as $525 for an em: broidered robe made up for him in Paris, ‘This fact recalls the famous wardrobe of Queen Elizabeth, who left at her death 3,000 articles of various kinds, and a still reater number was left by Elizabeth of ‘ussia; no fewer than 8,700 articles had to be enumerated at her death. The Empre: Josephine’s wardrobe was also famous, was also that of the Princess Mette ich, who left 300 gowns, 60 cloaks, 50 shawls, 152 petticoats, 36 pairs of stockings, 156 Ralrs of gloves, & pairs of boots and shoe ) belts and sashes, 64 brooches, 31 fan: 24 parasols and bonnets too numerous to mention. A more remarkable collection was that of the Duchess of Somerset, who left at her death 300 handkerchiefs, 2,000 pairs of gloves, 500 shawls, 600 pairs of silk stock- ings and dresses of all descriptions of forty years’ fashions. Strange to say the owner had lived the life of a recluse for thirty years, yet she ordered gowns as if she were ‘mixing In the world. Every three months she would dress in court costume as if going to a reception and walk about in her own rooms In solitude. The Wardrobo of a King. Perhaps the most extensive sale of cloth- ing was that of the wardrobe of George IV, including every coat that he had worn for fitty years, uniforms, furs, boots and ‘shoes of ail kinds, canes, walking Sticks, 300 whips and 600 pocketbooks. He may be said to have collected snuff, as he left a whole cellar full of his favorite Kind, which was sold by private treaty for $2,000. ‘This reminds one of Lord Petersham, who also had an immense quantity of snuff, which, when sold, required three men three days ‘to weigh it. He kept it in a room that looked like a shop, for all around the walls were shelves upon which were jars with the names in gilt letters of in- humerabie kinds of snuff and ail the neces- Sary apparatus for mixing it. On the other sige of the room stood canisiers containing Souchong, Congou, Pekoe, Bohea, Gun- wider and other ‘favorite teas. He also Fad a fine collection of snuff boxes. ‘The famous Count of Bruhl, who was sald by Frederick the Great to have, “of all men of his time the most watches, boots, shoes, slippers and lace," possessed @ collection of 300 wigs—a fad followed by a resident in Paris who owns today hundreds of wigs, including one worn by Sterne and one of Kant's, each of which were procured at an enormous price. In a list o! lectors, recently published, one lady is men- tioned who has a collection of knitting and crochet needles; another pays large sume for the gloves of all the great beauties o! the last two centuries, and another has brought together many hundreds of corset busks, including busks that belonged to Marie Antoinette, Mme. de Stael, the Em- regs Josephine ‘and Queen Christina 0} Riveden, Several of these articles are made of precious metals and some are even set with jewels. The Duke of Fite has a, splendid collec- tion of flowers made in China. which are invariably placed on the on the occa- sion of a dinner party instead of the natural ones. Mrs. Langtry’s Fans. ‘The largest collection of fans in the world 1s owned by Mrs. Langtry, who keeps them in @ room designed by Oscar Wilde. ae haps the most famous collection of pI wes owned by a Mr. Kines of Holland, wide- ly known as the “King of Smokers,” who died in Rotterdam in 1881. He had amassed @ fortune in the linen trade and had a hall in his home devoted to his collection of pipes, arranged in chronological order and according to nationality. The Duke of Sus- sex, brother to George II, collected cigars and Bibles. Lord Beaconsfield had a fine collection of pipes, and the late Lawrence Barrett shared the same fancy, owning many rare specimens. As an instance of circumstance develop- ing a collection, a beleaguered resident of Paris gathered together every political cari- cature, squib and placard from the first in- vestment of the city by the German army, and after the siege took them to London, where they fetched an enormous price. The most extraordinary collection of pos age stamps is owned by M. de Ferrari of Paris, who employs two librarians to ar- Tange and catalogue his specimens procured during the last twenty-five years. A curious collection has just been offered to the British Museum by a Canadian gen- tleman, who has expended a vast amount of time in procuring the buttons of officers of every regiment and department of the British army. | This has required nine years of patient labor, during which time the owner wrote 58 letters to all parts of the globe in pursuit of his hobby. Among curious collections was one owned by Gustave Mace. sometime chief of the Paris detective force. About three years 0 he published a volume under the title of “Mon Musee Criminel,” which contains a remarkable list of morbid articles and mementoes of distinguished French assas- sins and their victims. Lord Randolph Churchill has a touch of this morbid taste, as he has a fad for collecting the teeth of noted criminals and murderers. A Frenchman's Warming Pat Collecting warming pans seems a queer vanity, but such was the fad of M. Nestor Roqueplan, a Frenchman and litterateur, who had a gallery In his house where he kept his treasures, and could exhibit to his Visitors warming pans that had taken the chill off ‘the beds slept ‘in. by “Mary Queen of Scots, Catherine de Medici, Diane de Potctiers, Mme. de Pompadour’ and Marie Antomnette. Another curlous fad 1s that of the cork collector. ‘The first to amuse himself in this manner was an old man in Paris who died in an attic, leaving nothing behind him but @ large heap of old corks. He had once been weaithy and was in the habit of pre- serving every cork drawn at his table and inseribing the date and occasion on which the bottle was opened. Among other queer ‘collections is one of buttons owned by a Mrs. H. C. Harris of England, who won a bet that she could find 99" varieties of buttons. In twenty PiSks she bas become rossessed of $000 inds. Hair pins are also a popular fad many examples of which bring high prices: also silk stockings, of which the actress Minnle Palmer has’ the largest number. In the annals of queer collectors Mrs. So- phia Laramore of Waterbury must take igh place. She gathered together all the relies of her departed husband—spectacles, il bottle, pen knife, buttons of old cloth- ing—and pieces of candy and cheese, which she made into a wreath. This inclosed a picture of wonderful bird made out of is old shirt, surrounded by flowers and leaves, also made from bits of old clothes of the deceased. This entire work of art and ingenulty was used to decorate the grave. Some Odd Fane! A‘new fashion in the way of odd collec- tions is one chiefly patronized by ladies. It takes the form of a book in which is pasted @ plece of every dress worn by the owner, with accompanying notes of any kind that she may please to subjoin. It is said to form an interesting record of a lady's life. ‘The late King of Bavaria had @ curlous manta for collecting hi Louis) XVI, lock, keys and old clocks, and an old nurse In the court of William IV hed a hobby, for gathering together pieces of the wedding cake of all the princesses of the royal fam- ily even to Queen Victoria and some of her daughters. Several persons in London amuse them- selves by purchasing as they ramble around the streets a specimen of every article that may be bought from the itinerant street vendors for a penny. A curious collection of scarf pins was owned by David Lewis of Liverpool, who bought all that he fancted, regardless of price. He was never known to wear. the same scarf pin twice, and his method of keeping them was peculiar. He had a diary, in which he would stick the pin, thus keeping a record of every pin worn on every day. At his death his catalogue of scarf ins was found to be complete for a num- r of years. Among the famous private collections of diamonds ever owned was that of the Duke of Brunswick, who resided with his treas- ures in Paris. Many of these were histor- teal fon. of great value, including di mond ring of Mary Queen of ts, earrings of Marie Antoinette, besides oriental jew- els of many adventures and of great value. The worth of the collection ran into the millions of dollars, but the owner was the slave of his possessions. He resided in a fire-proof and thief-proof house, surrounded by a thick wall, on the top of which was a chevaux de frise, so arranged that when a hand was laid On one of the spikes a bell Tang instantly. ‘This defense cost the dike 10,000, owing to Its pecullar nature. ‘The Hamonds were kept in a safe let into the wall, and before it stood the duke's bed. Were the safe to be broken open by force four guns would have discharged and an alarm bell rung in every corner of the house. The duke's bed room contained but one window, the bolt and lock of which could only be opened by one who knew the secret. A case containing twelve loaded re- volvers stood by the side of the bed. Who would willingly change places with a col- lector who must thus guard his possessions? poseniel Was It a Samplet From the Chicago Record. “Is this strawberry shortcake?” said the man in the restaurant, pointing to some- thing that looked like a water cracker with three red warts on it. “Yes,” said the waiter. Well,” said the man with vu sis, “I'don’t eat my dessert Bring the rest of it on.” BE SES A Mean Fling. From the Indianapolis Journal. She—-“You will be sorry for the way you have upbraided me when I'am in the silent tomb.”” He—“Are you sure it will be silent?” ——$_co._—___ Mr. Dolly’s Creased Trousers, From World's Fair Pack. ir empha- courses, Dogs should be kept out of the fair, anyways ‘DR. MONSTERS FINESSE WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR BY LOUISE RB. BAKER. pba PEs 2° EN “It is so very absurd!” exclaimed Miss Lyons. had lived in a sensational novel instead of our extremly respectable and antiquated brown-stone house.”” “Yes, it is absurd,” acquiesced Miss do you intend to do, Alice?” “Do? Like in the sensational novel, of course, marry the man and perhaps be miserable all the rest of my lif ‘The speaker did not look like a person was a tall, slender young woman, with an abundance of soft, wavy brown hair. Her eyes were dark and sparkling, and she had pretty dimples that deepened with every emotion. One would feel inclined to call the husband of this woman a wretch if he id not do all in his power to make her the very reverse of miserable. That the late Sylvester Lyons had done his toward the accomplishment o! extremely uncomfortable state of existence for his niece must be allowed. He had given particular and emphatic directions In his last will and testament that John Mun- ster and Alice Lyons were to be man and wife before either of them could come into jon of those magnificent effects men- tioned separately and collectively in that same will and testament. os “You have never seen your cousin?” Miss Compton’s ‘eyes were ‘neither dark nor sparkling; they were calm, common-sense exge, Just now a little curious, “Is it not a rash thing to make up your mind to, marry '@ man whom you have nev- er seen?” ell, but how can I help it? He’ ing.” Here the dark eyes snapped. I can’t give up all the luxuries of life. I— i ‘It's a shame!” cried the bosom-friend. “He should have come to you at once. He must be @ bear, Alice, to write you @ let- ter at such a time.” “Oh, undoubtedly he is a bear!” sobbed the joint heir, for the brown head was leaning miserably on Miss Compton's little table. : “But you have your profession,” said the sensible eyed friend. ‘The head came up from the table with a disdainful toss. “Yes, wouldn't I make a pretty fist at doctoring people?” inquired the bride-to-be in her most contemptuous tones. You know well enough that I would never have pulled through the examinations if it hadn't been for you. My profession from beginning to end was a madcap's “And yet you were calm and brave in the dissecting room. “Wasn't it frightful?” said the girl, shud- dering. “To me it was very interesting,” return- e4 Miss Compton placidly, “after the natur- al timidity of the first few nights.” “Uh! I dreamed and dreamed of arms and legs and human skulls. I think I just kept on to prove to Uncle Sylvester that @ women could do it. And he went and fix- ed the day in his will and I am to be mar- Tied next Wednesday.” “Next Wednesday?” repeated the bosom friend aghast. “Exactly.” “And won't you see him before?’ “I don’t know; it all depends upon the gentleman. “I wouldn't have him,” cried Miss Comp- ton emphatically. “Yes you would if you were Uncle Syl- vester’s niece.” thing?" ‘We're both afraid to try; we mightn’t get anything.” “Oh, you cold-blooded, worldly people,” ejaculated the little doctor. “I'm glad I was brought up in a verty-stricken New England town. I'm glad I'm as poor as a church mouse! I'm glad I have only two hands and a head and a heart. It was on the afternoon preceding the day of the unceremontous, wedding” that Alice Lyons made a second descent upon the study of her bosom friend. “Well,” she gasped, “I've seen him!" “He called at the house this morning. He's about thirty-five years of age. He's tall and I suppose some people would con- sider him good, looking, but oh, I just loathe the man.” “Ale “You should have heard us making our conditions. I made mine as well as he. You would have been very glad that you helped me get my M. D. He wasn't a bit embarrassed. When he spoke of the will he actually laughed and said it was the most ridiculous thing under the sun. Of course it was, but there wasn’t any need for him to say #0 to me. I can’t help it. He guessed that we could manage to put up in the same house, he had his books and his cigars and his painting, and if I had any occupation (this was an after- thought) I musn't for 2 moment imagine that the new tle which necessity had forced upon us should interfere with that occupa- tion. I don’t pretend to know what he meant for he was evidently taken aback when I responded that I was a physician.” “Alice,” said the bosom friend, impres- sively, “4f you™can not get along without the luxuries to which you have been ac- customed, I suppose you must marry this cousin of yours, but if you decide to give your attention to the profession, which for all your foolish talk you can not fail but grace, You can go among the ailing poor And be a blessing to them.” And as Miss Compton clasped her nervous hands in the fervor of her devotion she wished in her heart that she was not as poor as a church Mouse and stationed upon the cold world with no other possessions than a pair of hands and a head and a hu heart. You can lead a noble life, Alice.” “I will,” declared the girl. Her eyes were misty and a faint glow was in her cheek: She would lead a Iife among the ailing Poor; she had stood the dissecting room, she could stand this other. But, oh, it was rather sad to have such thoughts on the eve of one’s own wedding! It seemed a very ridiculous arrangement for a newly married couple ing a luxurious home and a superabundance of means to spend their honeyraoon in itera hard work. and yet that was exactly the state of affairs going on in the antiquated brown house. John Munster had let the fresh air and strong sunlight into the mol- ay old Wbrary and gone steadily ahead creating through the medium of the brush and ‘canvas. Across the hall there was another workshop. the doctor's office. It was in the furnishing of this apartment that the great labor was expended, for it was destined to be a model office. Miss Compton lent her assistance and when the two women’s cherry voices came float- ing out into the somber hall the man sit- ting before the stretch of canvas in the sunlit library would rise and close the door with a somewhat petulant bang. In truth, if there was one thing in the wide world that John Munster objected to it was a woman doctor. The sign on the Fight side of his front door Almost made a swearing man of him. “Alice Munster, M. D.” indeed! Why had he sald that the forced tie should not interfere with any occupation that either he or she it have on hand. He had been a fool. He had simply meant that the forced tle was not to interfere with any occupation that he might have on hand. He haa ‘not @reamed that the slender young woman with the soft hair and the pretty eyes would tell him the next instant, eagerly and breathlessly, that most certainly she could not think’ of giving up her chosen profession. Before the termination of three weeks John Munster was inning to object to several more things in the wide world. His figures on the canvas were sadly de- ficient from an artistic point of view. He threw the brush aside in self disgust. would sit for hours abstractedly filling the outlines of an o1 hair and dark eyes and the bewitching dimples. What had ever made her think of becoming @ doctor, and by George, such a thundering energetic one, too. ‘There Were ther occupations | for a woman, natural occupations. He had thought once that he didn't’ like women. that he would never like them very well) Now, why he could love one woman to distraction if she wasn’t always running away from the house in answer to the tantalizing call of the telephone bell. He could hear that miserable little bell tinkling if he strode across the hall, and whenever he stepped into his chamber he would hear the other one, for there were two of them, sounding its imperative summons from the chamber opposite his own. If she kept on at that rate she would lose her Icoks in a year. He would find himself starting out in a very determined manner to put an end to it all and then he would find himself in that aden though Mngering halt, in which he remembered that this woman’ had not mar- Tied him for love, but because an imbecile old uncle had bade her do so in the most forcible terms, and he would bow politely to the indefatigable young doctor, who, stretching her kid gloves hastily over her small hands, would glide past him so rap- idly that he could not tell whether she re- sponded to the polite bow or did not even know that the man whose name she bore Was standing there. One night when the rain was recklessly dashing cats and dogs against the library window, John Munster heard distinctly above the clatter of the elements the two similar sounds: First the tinkling of the bell in the office and then the tinkling of the bell in the room on the second floor. All the doors in the large house were standing open, for the evening had been sultry be- fore ‘the rain. The occupant of the Ilbrary looked at his watch. It was forty mtnutes after nine. He brushed back his hatr from his frowning brow, rose from his chair and walking to the library door stood looking out into the hall. He had not long to walt. A light step sounded on the polished stairs. fe up face with wavy The young doctor, coming down hastily, | was cloaked led in @ waterproof “One would think Uncle Sylvester | | earnestly into hers, and Lyons’ bosom friend, Miss Compton. “What | doomed to be miserable all her life. She | | gusting farment. She paused and looked as John Munster, flooded im the guslignt of the Mprary, called her ame. “i would you to col and minute,” Me me here ten a minute,’ he acquiesced with @ faint smile. Yes," sne replied, “it is a heavy rai @ heavy rain.” ‘And you are thinking of going out in aimost sald “Fiddlesticks!” but re- himself. What he did say was “It's too bad a night valk.” do you imagine for one momen that I will Jet you?” His eyes were —~4 he put his’ hand her shoulder as thougn, if cessary, Would detain her by force. ‘He did mot iow how the woman's heart was uhrob- ing under that touch. At's @ little baby,” said Alice Munster, “a oor tittle baby, and st with half a sob, of pee ot eee jon the on the it side his front door rose before nis atsnne = as the rain and the wind, with a creat Sweep, furiously rattied the library indows. “b—n the baby!” cried Jobn “I sey Can —— shail not on such a ni a After that John Munster sald a @reat things, his voice growing quite serene and comfortable when he had di- Vested the young doctor of her vot Wreppings and chucked them upon the li- brary sofa. The upshot of this conversa- tion was that the telephone bells were heard Bo more in the antiquated hourse, and “Alice Munster, M. D.,” disappeared from under the bie windows. Who should be ed if not a bosom friend to listen to @ long recital of rhap- “And when were you sure that you loved him?” inquired Miss Compton, with mild interest. very, very sure when he said he wi “I was “‘D—n the baby.” The soul of Miss Compton looked out of her sensible eyes as an a’ ing spirit. “Well, Alice Munster,” she severely, F202 NETS THEE, not "to ‘remain a doctor. act ve no further thoughts to the ‘Poor tue baby? jut the ex-doctor, with drooping head and Dlushing cheeks, replied meekly en “Oh, of course there wasn't any baby.” i ABOUT CORNCOnS. A Chapter on the Many Uses to Which They Cam Be Put. ‘From the Minneapolis Housekeeper. Corneobs are useful to make pipes for the men, as stoppers to bottles that have mis- laid their corks, to crowd into the bung- hole of the cider barrel, to throw at the hens when they scratch the young onions, to curl hair on, to hold up windows, to fer- rule the children with, to grease the grid- dle in place of the time-honored half of a turnip, to wind basting ravelings for future use, to stop up any kind of a chink, to drive away red ants and to found a for- tune. The last two statements may seem to challenge remark, but they can bear the light of the best tallow ever run in a can- dle mould. One steps on corncobs when entering the pantry, and joggles the cream into the pickle dish. On inquiry one finds that red ants don’t like corncobs, I don’t wonder. As for the fortune, a man who once lived not ten miles from Springfield laid the foundations for a for- tune So large that, though he died twelve years ago, the lawyers have not yet done Mghting over his will, solely by ‘carrying loads of corncobs hither and yon and seili- ing them for fabulous prices. “The children find both fun and sorrow in corncobs. They make pretty dolls, to be sure, but if the masters of the Inquisition could have been provided corncobs sufficient to allow one for the mouth of each prisoner, they would have abandoned ail ot! methods of tor- ture. It is a most enlightening sight to en- ter a “deestrict” school and see # row of \ittle culprits standing behind the stove, a corncob in each mouth, and the silent tears of agony rolling down the chubby cheek: A corncob smudge is said to give ham ai bacon a most perfect and delicate flavor, A corncob put on @ pole, saturated with kerosene and set biasing, will destroy ‘worms’ nest into which it is thrust ~e 3 the =, TE] yg ge corncob 8! tly set dlestick has been known to burn half hour, and to save bringing in the from the barn in order to light the children to bed. Without the grease it would, very y, burn slowly and perfume air in a way that showed itself an excel- lent substitute for joss sticks, cient nurse in the rural districts uses to purify the atmosphere in the sick ana considers that, with woolen Tags, they are far ahead of any disinfectant favored by the medical fraternity. ‘The country damsel for the so- cial fray has been known to blacken her eyebrows with a burnt cob. When children object too strenuously to having their teeth scoured with soot from the teakettle, an julgent parent may: make a com) on the black fer from s burnt cob, an many places the jetty stuff is even to have medicinal power, and Mirands swallows a quantity in order to have s sweet breath—ah, telltale plan—when, Fer- dinand comes a-wooing. You can bla: boots with corncobs. You can shell corn Tubbing cob on A corneob makes excellent scrubbing brush, A woman with soul for ingenuity once hung out « wash with clothes pins manufactured cleft corncobs. —— a Blifkins Wrote Balloon Stories. “Mr. Blifkins,” said the managing editor, “your services are no longer need- Mr. Blifkins tried to look resigned, but BSR from he felt com to venture the question: Noting matter with my work, I ope?” “Yes there is,” snarled his late superior, ‘ou write too many balloon stories. “Why, you must be mistaken,” expostu- lated Mr. Blifkins. “I never wrote a bal- loon story in my life. I—” “Mr. Blifkins,” the managing editor in- terrupted with a frown that indicated he Was not to be corrected. “Mr. Blifkins,” he repeated, tartly, “I say you do write balloon stories. They're all full of wind.” pin? Mr. Blifiins was too shocked to re- A NEVADA MAN NT. Am Experience Detailing How Rus- sian Pete Was Trapped. ‘From the Cincinnati Commercial-Gazette. Apropos of the capture of Sontag and Evans an old miner who was at Silver City at the time of the capture of Russian Pete tells the following story of the siege and suicide of a Nevada desperado early in the sixties, when the boys made short work of all sorts of plunderers: “Peter Hill, or Russian Pete, as every- body called him, was a big, raw-boned fellow who looked more lke one of the lower animals than like a man, and was @ decidedly desperate character. He had taken $105 in coin and a watch from a miner named Green and Green went to Sheriff Mulcahy of Lyon county to have the big bully arrested. Mulcahy was not tu when Green called, but ty, Sheriff Fy started out to find hetnice| “Russian Pete saw the officer coming and dodged in the mouth of the tunnel that led into one of the mines. Two men were set to watch the mouth of the tunnel and others went around to inform the boys there was a man hunt on the program. In helf an hour there were 20 men at the mouth of the tunnel. “Sheriff Mulcahy was with the rest now and he shouted in to Pete to come out Posceably or they'd haye to bring him out, ete’s reply was very forcible: “ ‘Neither of you nor any number of men can get me out alive. I have got twelve shots with me and I'll kill as many men as gan.” “The sheriff determined to get the fellow out at any risk. The timbers had given way a few rods back from the mouth of the tunnel and the roof had caved in. That made a second place to watch, so it was de- cided to fill in the upper hole. When Pete saw what was being done he fired a shot up through that hole and killed a man named Williams, who was in the act of un- dermining a great bank of earth so that it would fall into the hole. He was shot through the heart and expired almost in- stantly. 2 “This so enraged the “crowd that they began to ask the sheriff to turn the water into the tunnel and drive the desperado out. Pete evidently heard what was talked about, for a few moments later he at the mouth of the tunnel, reening himself behind the timbers as Much as possible. Constable Ash and “Sherif! Mulcahy, half a dozen others were standing on guard in front of the tunnel, while another officer | named Paddock lay behind a bank of earth | about fifty yards away with his piece lev- eled over the breastwork. The sheriff had just noticed the man’s face in the gloom of the tunnel entrance, when Pete fired two shots at him. The first ball whistied close to the sheriff's head, the second raised the dust at his feet. “Between Pete's two shots the sheriff fired at him once, and two other shots were fired at the desperado immediately afterwards. Paddock fired from behind the bank of earth at what he thought was Pete's face, and shots were also fired down through the upper opening. But none of these seemed to take effect. “A few seconds later, however, a dull, muffied report was heard inside the tunnel and the crowd was certain that the man had shot himself. After waiting some time for further developments no sound was heard and Sheriff Muicahy, Meng oy @ enter the tunnel, found Russian Pete half sitting against the side of the tunnel, half lving on the bottom of it, and quite dead. He had placed the muzzle of his pistol in his mouth and blown the top of on.” —— ——_—————asasas—SsXSXSX_==s, OPENING THE REICHSTAG. July day is rather an early ny cone bore with white cravat gloves, it was “Auf Allerhochstein Befehi,” and in matters of etiquette there is no resisting a royal command. Not be+ ing entitled to wear @ German uniform, and having no conhection with any foreign, embassy, this somewhat oppressive costum@ was an indispensable, condition of my mittance to the “white saloon” of the perial schioss on the 4th of this witness the brilliant and imposing mony of the festive opening of reichstag by the kaiser in 4 hour appointed was noon, but) was ful to present myself at the designa’ trance soon after ll o'clock, and, on ing my card of invitation, was shown the way to one of the two Shatsber, ‘apd’ of which oe ie maber, of whic! is members of the diplomatic corps and hig wernment officials, while the other levoted to the use of the few far members of the body politic who are for tunate enough to obtain cards of Im the White Salon. In the recent transformation of the white salon many advantageous changes have been made, one of the most noticeable of which is that the numerous chandeliers which formerly interfered with the view from the balconies have given three ponderous ts, adorned same fusion of rock which ted the older ones, ranged as not to obstruct the View, wi incandescent electric lights have Tice ‘adopted for the lighting vice for 3 dies—hundreds of them—was a work of art. A continuous strand fibre, steeped in some inflammable rial ‘which gave it the quality of was wound around the wick of in succession, and the end sk Fe l ° g et at Ri E ity Highs H i i in arm’s reach in one corner of the saloon. The application of a match ignited the train, and as the fire leaped rapidly from HD {0 Up the room was in a few moments @ blaze of light. iminary trouble how gives way 10 tbe simple turns ing of a key. Another great improvement in the position of the throne from the to one of the which gives opportunity on ceremonial o9- casions for a much more picturesque and effective grouping than was formerly sible. This was jcularly observable Tuesday, when the kaiser was emphat the central figure, while the members the bundesrath and reichstag, of nearly one-half were in uniform, and minister of state and court officials were frouped upon the right and left of the = f I At 7:30 o'clock religious for the Catholic members of in the neighboring church of on the Opern-Platz—the “round familiar to the recollection of j { | } i : 3 ae Le aultsittzie | ; 8; 5 3 8 & i fl fou from above and bestow upon you Bicssing to the completion of an honorable Jork for the weal of the Fatherland! Amen!” The unwonted earnestness which these words were uttered Sreteoed every one of his auditory that it was hig sincere conviction that the SS a of the army was a measure absolu Stntiat “tothe defense and safety of the country. ‘With two exceptions, all the political pary ties were represented in the assembly the Schloss. The socialists, of course, were not there, for in the pride of their humility they piace themselves upon a scale lower even than that of the proverbial cat which may at least “look at a king,” and they carry their anti-monarchical demonstra- tions so far that they always withdraw from the chamber of deputies before the customary three cheers for the kaiser called for at the close of a session. Richterites, or Freisennige Volkspartel— who, by the way, have now decided to call themselves the Portschrittspartel, or Pro- gressive party—were likewise cont us ty their absence. The Conservatives, tional Liberals, and Poles, were out in ful E+ force, and the Ultramontanes or Center, and the Moderate Radicals, led by Herd Rickert, were well represented —_——— Auction Terms.