Evening Star Newspaper, August 26, 1893, Page 10

lo THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D. C.. SATURDAY. AUGUST 26, 1893—SIXTEEN PAGES. THE UPPER POTOMAC. A Bicycle Trip From Hagerstown to Cumberland. ALONG THE TOWPATH. Glimpses of Life on a Canal Boat. — + SCENES AND INCIDENTS. HE MORNING found me on the road from Hagerstown to pe Cumberland just as the sun was peering ~ through the pines of the Blue Ridge, and as making golden the purple haze which Shrouded that range of mountains. made the six-mile run to Will- famsport in good season for an early Breakfast, and I think the landlord will bear me out in asserting that there is nothing more appetizing than a run through a delightful country on an exhilar- ating summer morning. Immediately after I struck out through fhe vil to the bank of the canal, where @ bridge to reach the towpath. lock-tender was swinging a gate t> re- @ tow at the time, and as I whizzed Becked pipe dropped. trom his. mouth. into canal, but I disappeared too suid:enly him to-even say anything. Would Try. canal was a new source of scenes and incidents were urging on a team of three or 4 tandem, are the eng!- te, and the family who e ,boat live ‘in the stern and on these transports, while the bow @ stabied relay of mules. and Muleteers, H i $ 8 a H 3 f fi : is wat may be very dull ani- they know when they are to get hours of rest about as well as * c fa i By | taken up with the | a speck of light at the other end. mn | into foam from the fall over the dam. The mules looked as though they would be pulled into the river as the boat at the other end of the rope left the jock, but they were always able to manage It, and seemed overjoyed at the break in the monotony at this noisy place. At Hancock. At Hancock, that old stage coach and canal town, surrounded by soft green hills, I loitered for a couple of hours and didn’t Tunnel Near Old Town. continue the day’s jaunt until after saidday. I had gone bat a short distance before the black clouds could be seen discharging thelr burdens in the mountains, where the giant pines apparently reached up to rake the ttoms from their tanks. ‘The storm was traveling at a rapid pace and althoush it was bearing down upon me, I sauntered along. occasionally stopping to sketch at a striking bit of nature or to get @ new botannical spectmen to press. When the sprinkle came I stopped on a ‘assy place under an oak and bundling all y clothes in the mackintosh, I jumped into the river and enjoyed a grand shower bath. I swam around while the rain jas and when I came out I was thoroughly re- freshed and ready to continue the journey. Mountain Farm: I saw some farms along the road that were three stories high. The soil hanging into ledges overlapped the lower fields, and these were cultivated. One place a boy planting cabbages had to mount a step ladder to do it. Gardens of some of the lock tenders are stuck up against the side of the mountains and they have to use boards to keep the soil from sliding down into the canal. Another tiller 2f the soil was planting potatoes up above his house, and he could utilize the old-fashioned chim: ney as a speaking tube while his wife re- ceived his order below and sent it heaven- ward in a bucket tied to a rope, which the farmer would throw over a limb of a tree and draw up to the “roof” garden. I saw one captain afar off gesturing wild- ly and dancing around on the roof of the cabin. As the boat drew nearer I could hear his yells. He was trying to draw my ct- tention to the fact that his line stretchers did not like the sight of my dumb steed. Before the mules were near enou:sh to be- come frightened I hid the wheel in the bushes. The captain thought I dida't get it away quick enough, and when he got along- side he made the atmosphere blue with pro- fanity. His tury increased as he walxed the deck gasping for more words, and when he threatened to break my “velocipede” and throw it and me into the canal, f salanme} with an apology and rode out of the bad at- mosphere. The Ca: nel. The canal presents a lively appearance at the lock nearest the tunnel. Here the ditch widens, and there is nearly always a tangle of boats, and mules, and lines, and muleteers, can be seen. And such shout- ing and swearing! Formeriy they had signals to tell when, a boat was coming or going, but now the muleteer puts his hands to'his mouth and hallows—for two boats cannot pass in there =-and goes ahead trusting to Providence that he will not have to hitch to the other end and pull his boat out. again. ‘The big hole seems to be bored through a mountain of solid rock, and is nearly a mile long. Nothing can te seen ahead but I started to ride through on vay wheel, but the magnified rush of the waters had a depressing effect, and with a shudder at the thought of a missing railing I dis- mounted to hug the wall. ‘The talking a half mile off came to me In weird shrieks and hoots, and the hoof beats on the hard boards seemed like un- earthly sounds. The blue sky at the exit was a welcome sight. At Oldtown, a queer cluster of houses, an old lady, who lived with a parrot and two & catastrophe the tiller at the gang-plank, and with the roof, he grabs the eager fly-brush "and lowers him safe- boat. When safely embarked their heads out of the windows laugh and poke fun at thei brothers, who have hours of before them. Regarded as an Enemy. use for a bicycle. Such @ source of great annoy- when they see one com- knock-kneed with fright, erect, and tremble till the i list BoB i 1 i i if BS dt i ‘The Wrathy Captain @he other follow the river for miles and ition on the towpath was that same sple old Po- ywas not a monotonous mile during the day’s journey. Trains went putfing canal boats were coming ani going scenes changed rapidly. ‘The scenery on the r Potomac is of seeing it To ride thr mice of the , To ride through at the forty or fifty miles an hour one gets one ts brought so close to na- can enjoy to his heart's con- hat he pasess by. It seems age panorama unveiling itself or a mammoth transformation, which is speed- to suit one’s own pleasure and conven- At the Dam. guard No. 5 the Potomac falls over a was erected to hold water to the Williamsport level, and boats here A Roeky Point. Rave to go Into the river, as the receiving canal ts thrown wide open. The steep walls @f the mountain rise from the water's edge, and when I crossed to the wail side and Wheeled to the lock where the doats were Feleased I could see them reflecting in the Water which @ moment later was lashed | old habits.” black cats, thought she could get me a sup- per. I let her try. and concluded she had done fairly well. I was hungry. As dusk came the boats were being tied up for the night and mules were allowed to graze. Except for an occasional nightliaer, who makes the trip from Cumberland to Wash- ington in four days, I passed but few ant- mal objects from there to Cumberland. As it gradually grew dark I managed with difficulty to keep the path, but once I slipped down the embankment to the -w ter’s edge with the two handfuls of grass which had stopped me still in my fists. Rounding a turn of the canal at the straightaway of the Cumberland level 1 was treated to a splendid display. The lights from the city shone in the placid waters of the river and canal, and the darting glimmer of their dancing rays made the waters seem afire. The mam- moth fron furnaces along the edge of the river, black against the mountain heights, now "and again opened up thelr hugs mouths to belch forth great volumes of sparks and tongues of flame. ‘With the glisening waters on either side to keep me in the path, I soon reached Cumberland. ASK —_——_-2-—____. Prince Ludwig on Journalism. ‘From the London Daily Telegraph. Prince Ludwig of Bavaria, who will one day sit on the throne of that country, re- cently sald at Munich that one of the two reasons why he consented to be patron of the “Diet of German Journalists an@ Au- thors,” an institution not quite similar to the Institute of Journalists in England but advocating similar aims, was that he knew very weil how to value the great importance of authors and journalists in these days to mankind all over the world. “The author,” he continued, “especially the savant, makes us acqvainied with the researches of science, of exact science a3 well as historical science; his Arst endeavor must be directed to the attainment of truth and there is but one truth everywhere and at all time. As for journalists, it ‘s difficult to distinguish where a man begins as such or where he ceases to be an author.The mas of journalists have to supply us as quick- ly as possible with the news of the day, and with accounts about questions of the day, so that I am not at all offended with them if their news {s not always ‘nite accurate and correct. It is not possible to weigh everything correctly when thfizs have to be reported as speedily as possible. Therein I draw a distinction between the journalist Proper and the writer of science. “But there is one thing that a journalist should not do, and that is, he should not wittingly spread untruths and he should not calummiate. It 1s an art how to read newspapers aright. Anybody who only reads one paper or only journals of one line of thought, must, without knowlag 1t, be- come one Sided. " That is why ¥ say ‘that newspaper reading is an art, and for people in high position and for kings ind princes this art, which fs not easy, consists in their emancipating themselves "from th: ences of their surroundings, and In earning and hearing things which, In consequence of their inevitably isolated life, would othe wise be more or less concealed from them. — Tourisgs With Their Eyes Shut. From the Philadelphia Reco: “Tt fs a funny thing.” sald a prominent Philadelphia artist, who has lived abroad, the other day, “how some Americans livin in Europe will be Americans still to the en of the chapter and actually pride them- selves on living in Rome, but not doing as the Romans do. For instance, I know some Bostonians who have lived in’ Paris a num- ber of years, but who have never in all that time drunk a bottle of wine and have | their pork and baked beans for Saturday night supper as regularly as if they were | sci iteing tn the Hub. ‘They miss all the flavor of foreign life in that way, but when they return to this country they will have no trouble in falling back readily into their \ pe | ask those w: NOT A LOST ART. The Making of Potpourri, the Per- fume of Past Days. ART OF ENTERTAINING. How to Serve Tomatoes in Sev- eral Inviting Ways. PICNICS AND PARTIES. ‘Written for The Evening Star. NE OF THE LOVE- Hest features of old southern homes is the quaint scent of potpourrl, that sweet perfume of past days, that hovers about the rooms in the countr; seats of the south- land—the plantation houses, now crumb- ling into decay, but formerly the scene of s0 much hospicality S and pleasure. Making potpourri Is not a lost art, however, and, asa fashion, it has been revived. Therefore, in order to learn how to prepare this old-time mixture, I recently made a visit to Hall, one of the stately residences that still remain in some parts of Maryland, to show the taste and elegance of the colonial days. Taking a row boat at the nearest town— @ little city of unruftled repose lying on the Chesapeake—after a pull of two or three miles we entered one of the beautiful rivers that flow into the head of Chesa- peake bay, and soon reached the landing of the Hall estate, getting out at the foot of a velvety lawn. ‘he turf extended over the gentle slope of @ hill to the pil- Jared porch of the house, where a pleasant wide door stood invitingly open at the top of three or four shallow stone stzos. ‘The meliow brick mansion broadly spread {ts low, arcaded wings in the direction of the shining river. On the south sid2 it was covered with creepers, climbing roses, Jessamine and trumpet honeysucki», which Stretched their arms around the’ upper story. ‘A garden, enclosed by hedges, faced the sunrise, with broad walks that léd to an in- let from the river. On either side of the grassy paths were clumps of white and orange lilies, and spicy pinks, nd rose bushes that had sprawled themselves out into branches productive of many sweet, though far from perfect, blossoms. The family was absent, “done gone to a funeral in St. Elizabeth's parish,” we were told by the old-fashioned with turbaned head and shuffling shoes, who ushered us into the cool, shaded rooms. The wide hall had a staircase with capa- cious landings. It looked as if generation after generation of ‘rosy ‘boys ‘and «itis might have sild down the banisters from newel to newel. Here and there were great chintz-covered arm chairs that would have held two or three people of ordinary pro- portions, while the wide, long sofas, with their solid backs and ends, might have fered for, beds. “A great Durch of syringa in a big brown pitcher stood in a stair. case window, and wafted its perfume through the open bed room doors, where it met that of the roses that peeped in at their lattices. ‘tne rooms and corridors which wandered away from the hall on both sides were broad and low. The tables were spindie- legged, and the floors uneven, but. there Were, huge fireplaces, old matiogany cup- boards filled with treasures of oid china; the long, inlaid sideboard in the dining Toom glistened with sliver that had ac- cumulated from days far back of the pres- ent century, and in every possible recess, under corner cupboards and writing desks and on the old oak chests stood china bowls filled with potpourr When I asked “mammy” if she knew how to prepare this potpourri she said, with chuckling confidence: “ "Deed, I does, honey. I'se watched missis many’ = tim: Til teil you ‘zactly how you mus’ mek it’ And she did, “’zactly.” This is the potpourri, translated from mammy’s yernacular into plain English: Gather fresh rose leaves in thoroughly dry weather and place them in a large covered glazed earthen ware jar. Between each layer of leaves sprinkle some common table salt, and cover up the jar tightly after each layer of leaves is pui in it. Do this throughout the season. The rose leaves will sink and allow of a great quantity be- ing put in. When the jar is fuil let it stand for about a fortnight, then thoroughly squeeze the leaves from the salt with the hand, and add the following: One ounce each ‘of storax and benzoin, two ounces of orris root and one ounce’ of allspice—all these to be well powdered; one drachm each of bergamot, oil of cassia and oil of lav- ender and two ounces of cloves. MIx all these ingredients well together and thor- oughly incorporate the same with the rose leaves. Fill large china jars. Lavender may be dried by itself and added to the rose leaves; also the sweet-scented petals of the white jasmine, orange flower blos- som and other sweet-scented flowers. But these must all be simply dried in the sun and mixed with the rose leaves before the scent is added. The Love Apple and How to Treat I It ts not so very many years ago that the tomato, or love apple, as it is called sometimes, was used only for making cat- sup. Now, however, it has been found capable of being “accommodated"—as French cooks say—in so great a variety of ways that even the most fanciful person can find at least one way of cooking it that will suit his taste. To eat ft “en sal- ade” ranks first. For this slice tomatoes as thinly as possible, put one young onion, sliced, with them ahd cover with French 2 dressing. Tomatoes au Gratin.—Butter a shallow enameled dish or plate, sprinkle a thick layer of grated crumbs, minced fresh herbs and parsley, pepper and salt; lay tomatoes cut in half~cut side downward—over this and cover with the same mixture. Scatter a little sugar and several smali bits of butter on the top, and bake in a brisk even for ten minutes. Serve hot. ‘Tomatoes au Gril.—This is a very delicate dish. Select large, firm tomatoes; slice them about half an inch thick, lay on a buttered gridiron and broil on both sides over a clear hot fire. Arrange them neatiy om a siice of very thin toast, and have ready a cupful of butter which has been melted and seasoned‘ with pepper, salt, a pinch of sugar, a teaspoonful of made Toustard and the same of vinegar. Pour over the slices the last thing before bring- ing to the table. ‘They will take about 3 minutes to broil. Tomatoes aux ceufs.—Cut three cr four a and not too ripe tomatoes into alves; lay them in a baking tin with a ttle butter and bake till tender, but with- out allowing them to lose their’shape; re- move them from the oven and scoop’ out @ good portion of the center from each, carefully drop a raw egg from the shell i to each tomato; return to the oven, watch Ull it has set perfectly, then take each one separately from the pan and lay it on a slice of buttered toast cut to the size of the fruit, Dust them over with pepper and serve on a hot dish. Garnish with nastur- tium flowers laid on their own leav. Boules de neige au _tomatoes.—Prepare first rich puree by stewing some tomatoes im a little butter, pressing the pulp through @ colander, seasoning it highly and adding the juice of a grated onion, a teaspoonful of sugar and a teaspoonful of flour made smooth in a little port wine. Let this boll for three minutes, pour {t into a round dish and keep it hot. Beat up the whites of two eggs to a stiff froth, with a pinch of salt. Boil halt pint of skimmed milk with a pinch of salt, and when it boils drop in care- fully portions of the froth, a small spoonful ata time. Let these snowballs poach in the milk for from two to three minutes; then drain them and lay them on the tomato puree and put a morsel of parsiey in the center of each. * ‘Tomato jelly.—This is to be eaten cold. Make a puree by cooking one or two pounds | of ripe tomatoes with one onion, a pinch of | sait and cayenne pepper and one-half tea- spoonful of ground cloves. When quite dis- solved rub all through a fine steve. Dissolve an ounce of gelatine, stir into the puree; also a little lemon, grated, skin and pulp- about @ teaspoonful. Pour it into a mold. Place the mold on ice for one or two hours, then turn it out. Garnish the base with a salad of water cress. Picnic Hospitality. The house mother of moderate means, who has daughters of an age to go to dances and to receive invitations from friends who are kind enough to entertain them, does not like to deprive them of these pleasures, yet, as her income is hardly ade- quate for the actual requirements of her family, the question of returning these hos- pitalities, accepted at the time, perhaps, without much reflection, becomes @ taxing blem, Piand they must be returned or no more will be forthcoming. Unless your daugh- ters are lovely or rich, or both, very few invitations to other peoples’ entertainmants will reach {f you give none. Most of what passes under the name of hospitality now means, in the strictest sense, business. Bven givers of dinner parties seldom now ask the people they like best to see. They om they must ask. The dinner party dances, now so much in vogue, are pleasant little affairs for limit incomes. They are given on several | different plans, but the culmination 1s the! | that ma same, a small dance with men and girls in equal numbers. For instance, a mother with daughters invites a certain number of young men and young ladies to dinner. She asks three or four of her intimate friends to do the same, and unite forces after dinner at house for two or three hours’ dancing. The whole party meet about ten o'clock; there are no chaperons present, with the exception of the ladies who gave the din- ners; there is plenty of room for dancing, | without a crowd of lookers on, and no giri forlornly waiting for “the partner who never comes.” For those whose houses are_not suitable for a dance; who will not give musical evenings because they are too considerate to allow their friends to be bored with amateur music when good professional music is $6 easily heard; who cannot afford to give dinners—a picnic well arranged is @ rational mode of spending a summer day and enables the hostess to invite many more people than could be accommodated in a house of moderate size. Of course it must not be a “Dutch” the hostess must provide all the eatables, It is true, there must be marvelous prepa- rations at home the day before—cake make ing, sandwich making and ham boiling; the servants and hampers must be sent on ahead, and there must be a certain amount of picturesqueness in the arrangement. of the spread. All this involves some trouble, but comparatively little expense. A secluded, lovely wood should be se- lected: the party should meet at the hos- tess’ door and be conveyed in wagonettes, phaetons and buckboards. Then, as thé day spent among the wild roses and honey- suckle draws to an end, drive quietly back in the gloaming, when’ the dew begins to fall and the dusk to gather. A picnic has this advantage, too. There need be no conversational efforts to enter- tain silent, bored, automatic guests, Those friends who enjoy each other can group to- gether without any general binding obliga- tions to others, lovers can straggle into shady nooks and there need be no stiff re- straint for any one. At a picnic supper given recently in an Adirondack camp the long table was cov- ered with a canopy of ferns, and the four posts supporting the canopy were wound with wreaths of the pretty scarlet bunch berries. Ferns decorated the table also, and the centerpiece was a graceful mound of cool green moss and bunch berries. Before starting from the hotel the hostess pro- vided each guest with a tin plate, a tin cup and a tin spoon. The plate and cup were hung around the neck by a ribbon, and the procession passed out into » the woods, each beating a tom-tom with his spoon. ‘The most suitable dishes for picnics are those that are most portable—cold dishes, such as hors d’euvre, rolied meats and salad sandwiches. Cold fillet of beef 1s an excellent plenie dish. Salads are always appreciated, and frult, both raw and cooked, 1s refreshingly welcome. To prepare this ‘cold beef care- fully trim a whole fillet and tle it round with thin string, folding the narrow end 0 as to produce an even and sightly roll Lard it with a fine needle: put some good salad ofl with plenty of sait and pepper in a long shallow dish; soak the meat in this, stand it in a cold place and leave tt over- night, turning it over once or twice In the twenty-four hours so that all sides may come fn contact with the olf. ‘The next day bake it in a hot oven from one to one and a half hours, according to whether it is wanted underdone or well done. Baste frequently. When done put it on an open iron stand In a large tin, where it can thor- oughly drain, and, when the gravy and moisture have all dripped off, put the meat in a cool place, watching It now and then, and lightly scraping off any coat of grease y show itself on the joint as it be- comes cold. and which, if left, would dis- figure it. This meat thus prepared is very convenient for carving into thin and dainty slices. For a fruit salad one prepared tn felly Is tempting and delicious. ‘Your a littlegemon Jelly into a @ mold; laver of mixed fruits, fresh or preserved— bananas, strawberries, peaches, pinean- ples—then more jelly, and so on till the mold ts full. When firm turn it out Ina salad bowl. The welcht of the fruit will cause the jelly to break into rough pleces as it is turned out of the mold, and pile up prettily in the bowl. A Yetlow Party. Some English visitors at the “Chicago show” were entertained while there In American “progressive” fashion. They have described one of these occastons to friends at home, who are sometimes at a loss to amuse the house parties at their country seats. It was considered by the British guests a very “comical” entertainment. It began, continued and ended in lemons. The home of the hostess was one of the most magnifi- cent residences in Chicago and she recelved her guests much bediamonded and superbly gowned in faint yellow crinkled crepe. The invitation card had contained, writ- ten in one corner, the surprising injunction, “Please bring a lemon.” Accordingly, each of the ladies took a lemon and entered the drawing room lemon in hand. After the Kreetings were over she was requested to take her lemon to the dining room and “register.” ‘The dining room was a blaze of golden light trom lamps with yellow shades, The dining table was covered with lemon-color- ed silk, which was relieved by a flat cen- ter piece of delicate ferns and yellow roses. At a side table sat a lady and gentleman, who, all were informed, composed thé “squeezing committee.” “This committee wrote the name on a register and tied a ribbon, marked fn such a way as to be distinguishable, on each lemon. After the arrival of all the guests and the pienie; when set @dd a marking of all the lemons, they were in- vited again to assembie in the dining room, while the “squeezing committee counted the seeds.” Each lemon was cut in half, the seeds were extracted, and after being count- ed and duly credited to the owner on the register, were placed tn a beautiful trans- parent glass bowl. The lemons were taken yy the committee and squeezed into an ima mense punch bowl. Then followed a untque repast of strictly I¢mon-made edibles—lemon ice, lemon fce cream, lemon cakes, lemon Jelly, sardines and lemon, lemon’ cream pates and every coneelvable sort of lemon- flavored food. Placed beside each plate was a bunch of yellow roses, tied with a satin bow of the same shade. After supper the glass bowl containing the seeds was placed on the table, and a prize offered to the lady that should make the best guess as to the number of seeds therein, and a “booby prize” to him whose guess proved to be the least accurate. Each guess was then duly registered, the seeds were counted and the prizes awarded, The winner of the grand prize, who came within three of the correct number, was presented with an exquisite lemon-colored glass lemonade bowl, while the “booby” re- ceived a wooden lemon rqueczer. A prize was also awarded to the lady whose lemon contained the most seeds and another to the one who had fewest ‘The evening ended with a “nightcap” of delicious punch prepared in the large bowl which had been the receptacle of the juice of the lemons. Pantern Ahoy! The Princesse de Sagan is one of the ac- credited leaders of Paris fashion, Every- thing introduced by her is passed on and accepted and Worth has talked the prin- cess into wearing panters! Last season she staunchly resisted the hoop and was mainly instrumental in re- straining its outbreak among smart Paris- fennes. Whether she has had brain fever in the meantime, or has become otherwise demented, we are not informed, but she permitting the panier to become a proba- Pity. ‘May the fates defend us from this horror, this terrible exerescence which {s equally unbecoming to stout figures and to tall, slim ones. Can_we not send an impassioned, touch- ing appeal to Paris and the princess, some- thing like this? Save, oh, save us from those frisky hips! os The Coast Was Clear. From Trut Fred—The very first thing she said to me when I called on her last night gave me hope. Arthur—"“What was it?” Fred—"She said her little brother was aslecp.”* —— — +0- Stupid Enough. From Fiiegende Blatter. Workman—“I must go to the dentist and have my wisdom tooth pulled. Employer—"I_ won't allow . stupid enough already. You had your wi dom tooth when I hired you and you must keep it!” A Broadway Catastrophe, From Puck. Policeman.—“‘Do you know this sick man?” Interested Brstander.—“No; I only jest met him. He seemed a nice sort of a feller; shook my hand and wo chatted a while, an’ I told ‘im-I was Seth Pinewood from Pennsyl- ¥ania, an’ that I'd come on with one thousand in cash to see this here town. I ast him if he knew of some young feller as could show me around; an’ then he threw up his hands an’ fell jown. CRY OF THE BOOMER. | It Will Be Heard When the Cherokee Strip is Opened. \LAND OF GREAT PROMISE A Fertile Tract to Be Opened to Public Settlement. DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY ee Writtea for The Evening Star. N TO THE OUT- let! ‘To the strip—to the Cherokee Strip!” comes the vociferous cry from the south- western homestead- er and would-be set- tler, in anticipation of the opening of that coveted Indian land under the terms of the President's pro- clamation. For months back the In- terior Department has been deluged with inquiries from anxious people west and south as to the date and arrangements for the opening, and now that the time draws near, the excitement grows apace. It 1s not surprising, for in the present troublous period the opportunity of secur- ing a home in that princely domain for a mere song is regarded as a boon indeed. Comparatively little is known of the Cherokee Strip or “Outlet” by the average American of today, despite the fact that it les almost in the very midst of the na- tion, at the thresholds of five great states of the Union—Missourl, Kansas, Arkansas, Colorado, and Texas. ‘And yet it is pro- nounced by experienced judges to be the finest body of land of its size on the whole American’ continent, with soil of surpass- ing richness and depth, mineral resources of great value and inexhaustible quantity, natural scenery that is unrivaled, and a climate of delicious mildness and salubrity. The temperature there in ter varles from 33, to 48 degrees, and in summer from 7 to 8 Roses, fuchsias and heliotropes, growing wild are often seen there at hristmas and New Year. All the extrav- agant things that have been written in rapturous praise of Oklahoma are said to be more than true of the Cherokee Strip, for it Is regarded as equal in its entirety to the very choicest portions of Oklahoma, vhile its best lands are sald to be veritable garden spots, literally flowing with iilk and honey, The strip 1s 200 miles Jong and 56 miles wide and embraces 8,144,682 acres. It lies between the 9th and 100th parallels of west longitude, with the southern border line of Kansas as {ts northern boundary and the Creek country and the territory of Okla- homa as its southern. By consulting the accompanying map {t will be seen that it separates the major portion of Oklshoma from the strip formerly known as “No Man's Land,” but now ‘of Oklahoma. Topographically it is a rolling country, broken here and there by hills and. up- lands and interspersed with smiling valleys and Eden-like bottoms. It is plenteously watered, and the water courses are skirted with fine timber, oak, walnut, ceda:, ash, beech and hickory. The soll of the bottom lands and prairies is soft and loamy. black as ink and of marvelous fertility. The un- dulating prairies are covered with a thick growth of flowery vegetation, nude of tim- ber and brush. Both the bottom lands and the prairies offer {deal conditions for the practically unlimited production of corn, wheat, tobacco, cotton and potatoes. Upon the ridges and’ divides the land is not so well adapted to agriculture, but as the for- est growth is slight they furnish splendid grazing pastures for sheep and cattle, be- ing profusely clothed with succulent “bunch gr Owing to this self-cured “bunch grass” and to the mildness of the climate and the abundance of water, the hilly re- gions are claimed by old sheep growers to afford the best sheep country in the worl An Early Description. The earliest white traveler in this Land of Canaan was Don Diego Dionisio de’ Penal- osa, who went from Santa Fe to the Ar- kansas river and thence to the Mississipp! in 1682. He thus describes it: “We passed through fields the like of which in all the Indies, of Peru and New Spain, and even in Europe, have not been seen So peaceful and fruitful, so pleasant and delightful, covered with buffalo, or cows of Cibola, which caused notable ad- miration, The further we entered the country ‘the greater was the number of these, with many and very beautiful rivers, marshes and springs, studded with luxur- fant forests and fruit trees of all kinds, which produce most palatable plums, large and fine grapes in great clusters and of extremely good flavor, like those of Spain, and even better. Many mulberry trees to Taise silk, oak, evergreen oak, elm, ash and poplar trees, ‘with other kinds ‘of trees, with useful’ and fragrant plants, clover, flax, hemp, marjoram high enough to hide a man on horseback, abundance of roses, strawberries without'end, small, but sav- ory, many excellent partridges, quails, tur- keys, sandpipers, pheasants, deer, stags or elk in very great numbers, and ‘even one kind of them as large and developed as our horses. Through these pleasant and most fruitful flelds “we marched during the months of March, April, May and the ka- lends of June. and arrived at a river which they called Mischipi.” Barring the buffaloes, the picture drawn by the quaint old Spanish rhapsodist is In all essential respects faithful and accurate to this day. Exte lve Salt Marshes, In the northwestern part of the strip are extensive salt marshes, and to the east of them is the great salt plain, on the Salt fork of the Arkansas river, comprising thousands of acres. In some tracts the salt is formed on the surface of the ground and along the edges of the streams. There are also vast fields of salt beautifully crystallize which greet the eye of the traveler a long distance before he reaches them. It would appear that here is salt enough to supply the whole country, and it can be had merely for the cost of hand- ling. Hitherto it has been extensively used on the neighboring cattle ranches and has been hauled to towns in southern Kansas and sold. All the Indians of the territory have had free access to it for their supplies. In wet weather and high water there is little or no salt to be seen, but after three or four dry days it appears again on the surface, as before described, trom six to twelve inches thick. On September Lieut. Du Tisne, from the French garri at Kaskaskia, raised the French flag on these salt plains and took possession in the name of his king. He was the first white settler to enter the strip from the east, as Dionisio had been from the west. Railroads and Streams, The strip is already traversed by four lines of railroad with several other lines Just a little outside. Two of the strip lines are branches of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe, one running obliquely through the western end in a southwesterly direc- tion and the other running southward from Kansas through the Chilocco Indian In- dustrial School reservation into Oklahoma at the eastern side. A third, the Chicago, Kansas and Nebraska, runs southward through the center of the strip, and the fourth, the Kansas and Arkansas Valley road, cuts through the northwestern cor- ner. In the western portion, along the line of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe rail- road, are the’ settlements of W: Alva, Noel, Eagle Chief, Waynoka, Nimrod, Sut- ton, Griffin, Warwick, Woodward, Orland, Norris, Gage, Stockton and Goodwia, In the eastern side, on the other branch of the Same road, are'the stations of Ponca and Magnolia, besides a number of settlements on what were formerly the reservations of the Tonkawas, Kansas, Pawnee and Osage Indians. Ot the northern border, upon a reservation of 8640 acres, is the Chilocco School. By the terms of ‘the law opening the strip it will be continued in operation and the reservation made per- manent. In the western part of the strip is the establishment known as Camp Sup- ply Military Reservation. Besides the big Cimarron, river in the west and the Ari in the east, there Band, Sleeping “Bear, “Skeleton, stulness, San , Skeleton, Mulberry, Indian, Traders, Turkey, Bull Bear, Ewers, Skull and Eagle Chief, ‘all in the ‘western Portion and tributaries to the Cimarron, and in the middle and eastern portions, feeding the Arkansas river, are the Rock, Male, Medicine Lodge, Sandy Clay, Round Pond, Red Rock. Black Bear, Bluff, Tur- key, Buck, Hominy, Pond, Birch, Hickory, Coon, Bird and Camp creeks and ‘the Shak: aska'and Caney rivers. For a long time the strip has been cele- brated in its immediate neighborhood as & sportsman’s paradise, and its stores of fish and game have been lberally drawn from by both Indians and whites. Its countless streams, some of them just enu- merated, teem with fish—crappie, bass, sal- mon, red-horse, perch, sunfish, suckers, eels ‘and catfish, and on the Cimarron river during the winter season are to be seen myriads of wild geese and wild ducks. In the Black Jack or Jack Oak hills, along certain tributaries of the Cimarron, are fungles of stunted trees, covering thous- ands of acres of uplands, forming an a) most im} le barrier to man or beast, and abounding in bear, deer, wild hog, elk and other large game. In these Black Jack lands the soll is of a soft and alluvial nature, reddish in color, and can be dis- turbed with the foot as easily as a bed of sand. In the cedar groves are unusual quantities of game of all sorts, large and small—antelope, foxes, raccoons, wild cats, quail, prairie chickens, rice birds, ete. Indian Neighbors. Prospective settlers in the strip may now Prepare to get acquainted with the Chero- kees, Creeks, Choctaws and other tribes or nations of Indians in the territory, who, with the white homesteaders of Oklahoma, will be their nearest neighbors. These In- dians are of a high order for their race. They practice agriculture and many of the arts; they raise all sorts of grain on their farms, owu great herds of cattle, ponies and horses, live in good houses, run mills and factories, conduct excellent schools and academies and maintain good roads, in ac- cordance with legal enactments. They are as tribes exceedingly wealthy, and have enormous sums of money deposited to thelr credit in the United States treasury, on which they receive interest annually. They are now rapidly adopting American man- hers, customs, usages and garments. A new: r exerting wide influence is pub- shed at Tahlequah, the capital of the Cherokee nation, one side being printed in the Cherokee tongue and the other in En- glish. The Choctaws, to the southeast, are governed by a written constitution. They elect their principal chief every four years, and have a regularly organized judiciary, with trial by jury and the right of appeai to the supreme court. The Cherokees num- ber about 20,000, the Choctaws 16,000, the Creeks 15,000 and the Cheyennes and Ar- apahoes 7,000 and all the other tribes 22,000, making altogether $0,000 Indians resident in the Indian territory. ‘The Cost of the Land. The price to be paid the Cherokees by the government for their relinquishment of the strip ts $8,595,736, of which $295,736 has al- ready been appropriated and made available by Congress, and $8,300,000 authorized to be paid hereafter in five equal installments, beginning on March 4 next and ending March 4, 1899, with 4 per cent interest, pay- able annually, There being $,144,682 ‘acres of the land, the net price per ‘acre is $1.05. By some this may be deemed entirely too small, in view of the fact that the prices at which the government {s required by law to resell it to homesteaders are fixed at $2.50, $1.50 and $1, according to location, But it has long been contended that the Cherokees never owned the title of property in perpe- tuity in the land, following back the long line of treaties and agreements of past years, but merely possessed an interest, or easement,” in it—a right of passage over it to the western lands owned by the United States. As far back as 1821 John C. Cal- houn, ‘having charge of Indian affairs as Secretary of War under President Monroe, declared positively to the Cherokees that they had acquired no right to the soil, but simply to an outlet. In recent years, how- ever the old treaty provi: bearing on this ‘point have been const differently, so that in the presence of conflicting view: as to the nature of the Cherokee title the Price of $1.05 per acre is generally conceded to be reasonable, if not generous. ‘The purchase was effected only after much discussion in Congress and prolonged negotiation between government commis- stoners and the Cherokees, and was brought about in pursuance to an agreement con- cluded at Tahlequah on December 19, 1891, by authority previously granted by Con- gress. The immediate parties to this agree- ment were David H. Jerome, Alfred M. Wilson and Warren G. Sayre, commission- ers for the United States, and Ellas C. Roudinot, Joseph A. Scales, George Down- ing, Roach Young, Thomas Smith, William Triplett_and Joseph Smallwood, commis. stoners for the Cherokee nation.” They oc- cupled twenty-three weeks in reaching th: agreement, while fn actual session, and spent even a longer time in the preparation and completion of their work. ‘This agree- ment was ratified by the National Cherokee council and approved by the principal chief on January 4, 1892, and was accented with slight amendment ‘and enacted tnto law by the United States Congress on March 3 last. fn the Indian appropriation act for the fiscal year ending June 30. 1894. How It WII! Be Settled. By the terms of that act no person is per- mitted to occupy or enter upon the land ex- cept in the manner prescribed by the Prest- dent's proclamation opening it to settle- ment, and any person otherwise occupying of entering upon it forfeits all right of ac- quisition in the future. All intruders al- ready on the ground are required to be re- moved as trespassers, but provision is made that such as occupted houses and had barns, fences, crops or other improvements prior to August 11, 1885, should, before their re- moval, be indemnified by the Cherokee na- tion for their improvements upon an ap- praisement of their value by a board of three experts especially appointed for that office by the President of the United States. Such improvements thereupon become the Property of the Cherokee nation. The amount paid for them must not exceed $250,000 In all, and the appraisers in deter- mining the value of the improvements may fonsider the value of the occupation of the land. The Cherokee Allotments. Citizens of the Cherokee nation who, prior to November J, 1891, had made perma. nent and valuable improvements upon any portion of the strip for farming purposes have had the right to select one-eighth of a ection of land each, in conformity with the government surveys, upon the sites of thet improvements, and their wives and chil- dren have been at liberty to make similar selections of lands improved by their hue. bands and fathers, though each “one “ap taking allotments must forfeit $112 from his or her per, capita share of the purchase: money received by the nation for the strip, The number of such allotments ts restricted 0 seventy, not to exceed in the te 5,600 acres, and the sum of $1.40 per acre is to be deducted from the full amount due the Cherokee nation. These allotments, to the number of sev- enty as permitted have now been selected, and permission has been given to the own- ers or claimants to file pot and argument in their support at the Interior Deparment until September 1 next. ‘The delay: ing the strip has been occasioned slowness with which the allotment: selected and located. An original map, showing the location’ of each allotment, has just been prepared and published by the department for. the information avd Euldapce of prospective settlers, and Will distributed at all the principal points in the neighborhood of the strip. Open to Settlement. Aside from these allotments to Indians and the 8,610 acres reserved for the use of the Chilocco school, together with two sec- tions of land (numbers 16 and 3) in each Ntownship, set apart for public school pur- poses practically the whole remaining dy of the strip will be thrown open for settlement to homesteaders upon the date announced in the President's proclamation, Each settler on the new lands, before re- ceiving a patent for his homestead, is required by law to pay, in addition to the customary fees, the sum of $2.00 rT acre for land between parallels 9 and $7 1-2, the sum of $1.50 per acre for land between $71.2 and 1-2 and the sum of $l per acre bes tween 981-2 and. 10), together with & per cent interest on the amount from the date of entry to the date of final payment, Some of the land between parallels % and 97 1-2, particularly in certain tracts directly east Of the Chilocco reservation, i worth “ay least $50 per acre in its present wild state, It is splendidly watered’ and within easy distance of several thriving towns in. Kean. sas and Arkansas, and every foot of itis capable of cultivation. Keeping Out Boomers, ‘The government agents have been on the ground all summer. Most of the strip-has been surveyed, the county lines have all been located and the county seats selected. Land offices, as named in the President's proclamation, will be established at con. venient points, and registers and receivers will be appointed at once, so that they ma; be Tendy for business on the day cf ona, ing. The detalls also of other arrangemmnts for the peaceful opening on. the day fixed have, been ‘carefully perfected, and it is hoped ‘that ‘these will’ prove effectual, in preventing any great number of prospective settlers from. obtaining undue ‘advantage over the others and in insuring full justice to each. To this end the army has been called on to ald in frustrating the attempts of “boomers” and “sooncrs" to get on the ground in advance of the opening day, which in accordance with the provisions of law must be at least twenty days after the President's proclamation is issued. By or der of Gen. Schofield, Gen. Miles, com- manding the Department of the Missourt, has been instructed to place in readiness a strong force to remove all intruders and unauthorized persons and to preserve order. In compliance the third cavalry is now pa- trolling the border and has already cleared the strip of all the “sooners” and “ ymers"* that have been encountered. ‘Nevertheless, information has just come to the Interior Department that several in open- by the 's were hundred such ns, both men and wo- men, some with horses and ‘ponies and | only the men of best education. p: —[—£—[—[—[—$—$—[—*—“— —_$—__}__ — xm others without, are now in the strip, hiding in caves and “deep ravines in out-of-the- Way places, particularly im the rich bot- toms along ‘the hhriam and Beaver creeks, where they have in elud- ing the vigilance of the troopers and con- ve to subsist on what they can furtively get hold of. Most of these people are said to have gone down from Kansas with the design of E picking out choice quarter sec- fons in advance, so that when the hour for the opening ‘arrives they can pounce @own on their claims and pre-empt them by virtue of their previous presence near the ground, in Hiding. All along the northern border in and near the towns and cities of southern Kansas, such as Caldwell, Hunnewell, Medicine Lodge, Arkansas City, Coffeville, and tn the new towns of Oklahoma on the southern border, large crowds are even now reported to be gathering in readiness to rush in upon the most desirable spots of the strip. It ts safe to Predict that ever; ter section near the borders least fifty claimants. y qual will bay The border hustiers ¢hances on fast railway trains through the regions streets of Arkansas Cit; filling up with teeth—mostly distinguished —who are said to be themselves about the o’ tions between running most desired. The Y are reported to be desperate men, arms to the ‘sooners” and “‘byomers,” as from legitimate home-seckers quarrel'ng among mut the ownership of Inca- e and ith parailels, Most of them have horses, which: they train daily in running, in order that they may be able to outstrip their competitors when the stampede takes place. Heretofore, notwithstanding march of emigration and the ager dema for homesteads, the strip has been used chiefly as a cattle range by a sincle Leet. raising syndicate, which fllezally ased the country from its native owners at an abe Sundly low rental uncll removed by the eov- ernment recently. The spectacl: soon be presented of a wild Tush of corontees ints the new country will be especially eet ing from the fact that this, pictufesme Ploneer, phase is fast flecting from mur na jonal life, and is witnessel now only rare and lengthening intervals, the nomena attending the settlement «tf Oh homa in 1889 being the most recent inetanee, Almost in the twinkling of an ey this lost new gem of nature's wilderness wil) be transformed into a thickly settiod and civil. ized community, covered with snuz farms and bristling with lively towns and wile lages. And while the rudimen:s of em. pire there are yet warm and ‘lastic, this new-born nursling, together with the wevn- ed infant Oklahoma, with which it is im- Mediately to be linked In pursuance of law, will in all probability make a sudden and vigorous leap for statehood, with promising prospects for early success. soe Ss 01 THE VENU: F MEDICI. The Mutilated and Patched Statue’ Wonderful Fascination. Florence Letter to the New York Times. As Venus herself arose from the sea, so her statue came up from the deep un- known. Upon the base is a Greek inscrip- tion attributing it to Cleomenes, an Athen- jan, but this ie generally thought to be the work of some one who lived long after him, who might have supposed only that Cleomenes was the sculptor. Nor are the time and place of the discovery by any means certain. When purchased by Fer- dinand, a cardinal of the Medici, she was in many disjointed pieces, having been shattered by the early Christians in their zeal to destroy every relic of paganism. She has, however, been very carefully re. | Stored, and the fingers evidently, and some Say the head, are of modern date. She re- mained for some time in the cardinal palace, but was transferred to the present jocation in 1577, where she has ever since been the presiding deity, excepting for a short period during the French invasion, jen she was taken to P: but rr time restored to her throne. ete Wonderful fascination this 4 mutilated and patched as it has been hai for Byron and for us all may be under- Stood in degree by reading what Maupas- sant says in his “Vie Errante” of a similar experience in contemplating a painting. He had been describing in glowing terms some lovely peasant girls he had seen in a Village on the coast. “One day at the cor. ner of the stree. one of them passed near ime and left with me the emotion of the most surprising beauty that I, perhaps, had ever encountered.” Then followed several more paragraphs of such a description as Ro one but a Frenchman can give, and in ures and ‘Titian that t again in the gallery ke the woman paint- the woman painted by days afterward 1 saw at Florence, I would tal “What higher source at er tribute from such a sould ‘be paid to art? It ts placing her where she not often, but sometimes be- longs, above nature, ‘for the most beautl- ful creations of sculptors and painters are as much the products of imagination and of combination as of copy. Doubtless there never were two such beautiful women as represented in this statue and jn ting. The great artists have each uities of many into that of one, and that produced pertection. “Come along,” said an impatient coun- tryman of ours the other day to his friend who lingered in the tribune with his gaze fixed on “Vends,” “didn’t you ever see a handsome woman before “Yes,” was the reply I never saw lots of them, but @ hundred boiled down’ inte see UNION JACK, ved by Having Shoulders, As I observe much has been said of late about the British flag and various made to cast di: should like to teil a story about it, w 1 believe to be true, and which shows that when properly used it can do excellent ser- vice. The story was told me by the guard of the Pullman car in which 1 traveled from Quebec to Montreal at night in the autumn of 1878, and I believe that I give it just as I heard it. This man was the son of a clergyman in one of the southern states, and after the war broke out his father was forcel to b-eak up his home and send his children adrift, says a writer in the Spectator. My informant was then about twenty, and bad just finished his col- lege course, and, having a turn for acting, he formed a company of his friends, wi which he went through the West indies islands, acting at each in turn; and I gath- ered that it had answered very well. “But 1 don’t tell you this,” said he. "to exait MY OWN proceedings, but because 1 should Uke to let you know how well the interests of the English were looked after at that time by their consuls in the Spanish and French Islands;” and to prove this he gave me the following, among other instances: When he was in Havana there was one evening a great row in the streets, and a man was Killed. Every one ran away ex- cept an Englishman, who did not sce why he should run off, but stopped to see what he could do for the wounded man. ‘The city was then, as it often was, under martial law, and in a few minutes a party of sol- diers came up, walked the Englishman off, he was tried then and there by a sort of drumhead court-martial and condemned to be shot at 8 o'clock. the news conveyed to the English consul, and at next morning the consul ap- eared in his coach and four, uniform, gocked hat and sword, all his orders on, &c. The shooting party Were drawn out, and the prisoner was there, too. The consul walked up to the officer commanding the party and demanded the life of his country- man. “Very sorry,” said the officer, “but 1 must carry out my orders,” and he Showed a warrant signed by the governor. Well,” said the consul, “at least you'll allow'me to shake hands with him before he dies.” “I cannot refuse that,” was the reply. On which the consul st up to the Englishman, put his hand into. his breast coat pocket, drew out a union jack. unfolded it, threw it over the man, and then said: “There, now; fire if you dare!” The lieutenant was staggered, the matter Was referred to the governor, and the En- glishman was saved. ——ree—____ Russia’s Regiments of Specialists. From the London St. James’ Gazette. : An account is given in the Vienna Presse of what is described as the formation of certain corps, not familiar in Russia, 21d unknown even in military circles ot of Russia, They are cailed the Corps ve Ch: urs, formed of a particular class of : B. pur also the best runners, sharpshooters, fen :rs, swit mers, climbers, sappers, ‘fishermen and huntsmen. They are under a ‘trict disei- pline of their own, but they are not obliged to march in line, are free from barrack service and are excused sentinel duty, so that they may be called at any morment to the extraordinary service for which they ere trained. As pioneers they build bridges across the broadest and fastest rivers of Russia; as hunters and fishermen they pro- vide the army with game and ilsh. Du: - long marches they are hunters wf the wolf, the bear and the tiger. In the iilitary dis- tricts of Vilna, Warsaw and Kieff—that is, along the frontier of Austria and Germany, the number of Chasseurs is 6,656. The Corps de Chasseurs of the regiments in Minsk ard Mohileff are considered the best in the army. NEURArGIC headaches promptly cured ‘Bromo-Seltzeririal Vote 10 ctx” He managed to get | DREAM-BRINGING GANJA. The Smoking of the Indian Hemp #* the Coolles’ Chief Solace, All those who have yielded themselves to the fascination of “Monte Cristo” have eh ineffaceable recollection of the wonderful cave scene in which the guests of Dantes &re placed under the voluptuous influeace of hasheesh, says the New York Commerciaj- Advertiser. Hasheesh ts a kind of greenish jelly made from hemp, and cunniagly fig vored, and it is said by its votaries to af- ford a very short pathway to the most ex- quisite sensations known, and the penalties for its use are bitter and ghastly in pro- portion. A milder form of the intoxication pros duced by hasheesh follows the emoking of the leaves of “ganja,” or the hemp pan, This plant ts grown in many parts of Asia, and so addicted is the Indian coulis to sol acing himself with its fumes that in wha‘ ever part of the world he happens to pitch his tent, even if only temporarily, he makes the ganja plant o : dince in the little cultiv clearing that inevit- bly surrounds his “barracks.” Now that fulminations against opium are deprived by facts and figures of inuck of thelr force the attention of the English government has been diverted Ww the sub- jot of ganja consumption in India. Sy long ago as 3871 the deleterious effects of ganja were brought to the notice of the foverpment of India. The question has been taken up again, and local zoverminchts have been directed to inquire ‘nto the truth Of the allegations frequently made that abuse of the drug produces insanity and other dangerous effects, and they were Fer quested to report whether it would be exe Pedient to restrict the use of zanja or te Suppress the cultivation of the hemp piant altogether. Upon a careful consideracion the opinions ‘elicited the goverament ol India has come to the following conclusioy in regard to the effect of the drug: “it does not appear to be specifically Proved that hemp incites to crime more than any other drugs or othe> spirits, And there is evidence to show that, om rare occasions, this drug, usually so Rox fous, may be usefully taken. ‘There can, jowever, be no doubt that its habitual use does tend to produce insanity. The total humber of cases of insanity is small. in Proportion to the population, and not laree even in proportion to the number of ganja smokers; but of the cases of insanity pro- duced by the excessive use of Grugs oF spirits by far the largest number must be attributed to the abuse of hemp.” Ganja cultivation has been prohibited for many years in Burmah, and it has lately been suggested that the prohibition be ex- tended to other provinces of British India, | The wisdom of this step is questioned by those who know the people and country of India, where the practice of ganja #1 has existed from time immemorial, among certain sects of Hindoos. ascetics and religious mendicants, hemp Intoxication is habitually indulged in. It would be im- Possible. too. to suppress the growth of the Plant. Furthermore, it ts thought that Its Prohibition might induce the use of still more noxious drugs. India abounds with Plants, growing wild, from which drugs can be procured which are more deleterious in ‘One*such plant ts (stremontum), the seeds of | which are already used to intensify the nar- | cotie effects of bhang, a liquid preparation of hemp leaves: and if the use of ganja were suppressed altogether dhatura might be | largely resorted to by the poorer Classes ae |& means of satisfying their craving for Stimulants. The probeble result of the | Present agitation will be to restrict the cone | Sumption of the drug as far as possible. a NOT SO DANGEROUS, | thelr effects than ganja. the dbatura ‘Time Sulphar Match ts St Popular. From the Kansas City Times. | “Man in €§ wants some parlor matches, | He says these eight-lay sticks are = con- | founded nuisance.” the bell boy eald te | the clerk in one of the hotels yesterday. | “Tell him he'll have to get along with the | old style match, | insurance | mai Why the on answered the clerk. “The companies don't allow parlor ches in the rooms.” es, that’s @ fact,” he continued, in an- swer to a surprised questioner. “Insur ance policies of nearly all ies pro hibit the keeping and use of matches | in any part of a hotel, but they are gen- erally kept in the offices because they are in greater favor and more convenient than the sulphur match, and the requirements of the policy is to that extent overlooked by both its holders and the issuing com- pany. There isn't much chance for an ac- cidental ignition of a parlor match to de much harm in a hotel office, but they are dangerous things in rooms where carpets or curtains or stray paper are Mable to catch fire from them. They are not only more casily lighted by accident, such op stepping upon them, but, as is not gener- ally known, they often break out in flame from spontaneous combustion. You may judge how easily this ts liable to happen by holding a bunch of them In the dark and watching the fume that continually arises from them. The sulphur match is not so dangerous in any of these particu jars.” ———__+e-+-_____ THE SEARCH-LIGHT BEETLE. New Yorkers Astonished at the Sight of the Brilliant Cacajo. From the New York Times A young Mexican, carrying a perforated tin box which resembled an old-fashioned Jantern, stroled along West 59th street ope evening recently and stopped in front of the Hotel Pomeroy From the tin lantern came a beautiful yel- Jowish green light, such as no candle could possibly give. A number of gentlemen were sitting om the hotel porch and the boy with the lanterm stepped up to them and said “Mexican bugs, sins. Fifteen cents apiece, two for a quarter.” He then drew back his coat and disclosed several large beetles secured to his vest by light threads tied about their bodies. Sach beetle carried two powerful search- lights on the dorsal surface of its thorax, placed so as to throw the light directly im front of jis eyes. When the beetles were left undisturbed for a litle while,” the light dwindled away to a mere point. but it glowed again when they were touched with the finger. The tin box contained fully fifty more specimens. It was thelr combined light hich illuminated the novel lantern. “the young Mexican took several of the box and made them parade om th beetles from ate Se up and down the walk Lights to better advan time their cousins the fi among the trees over in Central The boy called the beetle cucujo. ‘The sales were rapid, and soon every one Nas asking how long they would live and What to feed them on. ive them ripe fruit,” the boy said, “and will live tll cold Weather comes.” He explained further that his uncle ha@ brought six hundred up from the south %@ sell in New York and Chicago. ‘The beetle is the pyrophorous noctilucus of Central America and the West Indies. It belongs to the family of the elateridne. It is called cucujo, fire beetle and spring Dectle, “The last name refers to its power to throw Itself by a quick movement of its spine to its feet when it ts placed on ite back | "The light comes from two oval tubercules: Jon the dursal surface of the thorax am | from the under surface of the segments vrn'the southern countries the natives sometimes use them as ornaments for the hair. They are also confined in glass ves- sels and are actually used to light rooms. Single beetle, if held close to the page, enuble one to read fine print. eee Short From Texss Siftings. grass widow is not infrequently one whose children have a poor sort of f This is the season of the year in whi you can get What you do not want cheap. ° man with a strong mind who is asked to mind the baby generally doesn't mind it, Plenty of sleep ts conducive to beauty. Even a garment looks worn when it loses its nap. ‘When a young man asks a young lady for her hand, it nine cases out of ten she will to paw, Teite man who wants to get ahead of thme when going for a train should use the spur of the moment The reason the small boy does not wear a dathing costume fs because nothing is good pough for him. oie von is reported as declaring that tate.” If #0, Herr Most is just the man to Carry I such temperance They are getting t cranks in Kansas that they will not permit the elements to brew a storm. mouth is made to talk and ext. yet he often nurts himself dreadfully dating, and kills himself by eating. Patent medicines are advertised as being orth their weight in gold and the druggist es good care to muke you pay that much for them. ‘A Mere Accident.” is the title of a new Well, if it was a mere accident the public will overlook it this time, but the Author must not repeat the offense, tee Grade Crossing. From the Bethlehem Time, ‘That grade crossings are abominations and nuisances of the worst kind has long ince been the popular verdict. That they ould be abolished is an almost universal Upon whatever shoulders the cost of their abolition shall fall, they should be abolished and at the earliest possible mo- ment. Hundreds of human lives have been sacrificed through thelr agency, and the tme has come when that dangerous agency, ‘no longer be permitted to exist. Sweet.