Evening Star Newspaper, October 28, 1893, Page 19

THE RUSSIAN FETES. Significance of the Great French Demonstration. ONION OF FRANCE AND RUSSIA An Event Hailed With Acclamatiors of Joy. A GALA TIME IN PARIS. ‘Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. T Is CERTAIN that the visit of the Russian fleet to Tou- Jon and the coming of its officers to Paris means as much in society as in politics and popular feel- ing. The Russians have already suc- ceeded in hurrying the Paris season.This is something, for the last few years have been accustoming high life to appear in Paris only after Christmas. That delicious country house existence made so familiar to American readers through the works of English nov- elists does not exist alone in England. France has its chateaux, modern and an- cient, great and little, and from these chateaux thelr well-to-do and happy own- ers are now flitting first to Toulon and then to Paris for the fetes. At Toulon and in the neighboring villages of the Riviera lodgings have gone up to Preposterous prices. For the sake of en- abling Parisians to watch the maneuvers of the squadrons pleasantly and without the annoyance of hunting difficult lodgings @ giant excursion has been organized by the French Transatiantic Steamship Com- pany. For 220 francs (forty-four dollars), the voyageurs are given first-class railway tickets from Paris to Marseilles and re- turn; a three days’ sojourn in the Mediter- The Rassinn Sailors at Toulon. Fanean about Toulon on board an ocean steamer, with meals, attendance end all the rest included, a lunch at Marseliles on the day of the Russian admiral’s pass- ing through; a drive through Marseilles in carriages, and the service of “guides-con- ducteurs.” At Monte Carlo all the apart- ments overlooking the sea have been taken Weeks in advance. The Monte Carlo sea- son has begun completely. As to Paris, Russian grand dukes have been "going and coming for weeks. Ordi- marily you do not see these great ones; or, = you should meet them on the street, it likely enough you would fail to recog- nize who they are. The King of Greece has been seen’ sitting in front of a Paris cafe | ‘by the present ‘writer. in past times, and he attracte@ no attention. The Russian their followers and hosts oi other notabilities mix and mingle in the Paris crowd and are completely lost. On the other hand the manifestations of public joy and hurrahing for Russia in the abstract continu? at full height. The pride, the happiness and the new self-con- fidence which has been born in the French since the “Double alliance” has become an open and acknowledged thing would be in- conceivable in our republic of America. As M. Zoia has recently said ot his coun- try, she has long been “sore all over.” “She has been tn sore need, and nobody hel her; she has been severely wounded, nobody dressed her wounds: she has now been Isolated so long tha: she is en- ervee; she has a grievanc? against the rest of her neighbors.” The Double Aliian For twenty years the French have been | unable to rejoice. For twenty years they have been laying flowers and banners and purple, white and black bead wreaths upon the statue of Strasburg in the Place de la | Concord le. twenty years the Societies of Alsace-Lorraine, full of patriotic pur- Pose, have heid their yearly demonstra- tions, held their yearly fairs for charities and the systematic assistance of emigrants into France from the conquered provinces. And now the day has come when France has found a friend. the most powerful, per- haps, im Europe. So they are singing, not only in Paris, but in every city, town and village, the Marseiliaise, the Russian na- tional ‘hymn (transiated into French), and @ half dozen other songs, most of which have come up, as it were, into their full glory in a single night, the Marche Franco- Russe, La the Tsarina! Gaily to the port announced By the voice of cannon, The friendly fleet has entered now Proudly into Toulon. As yet, it is not war; Until then, in the meantime Let each one drink a toast To the honor of the Tsarine! This goes to the well-known air of La Czarine by Louis Ganne, which has been hummed and whistled by every one in France for the past two years, in fact be- fore the alliance was even talked about. ‘The Russien national hymn is even easier— in French—and few will try to sing the Russian words. On the streets the ever-present Paris fakirs of music. toys, damaged books, tricks and novelties have taken up a sheet of “Franco-Russian Conversation,” and they baw! out nightly, “Prepare yourselves to chat with the Russian marine! All the necessary words, with French pronuncia- tion! Two cents!” Some of these sentences are difficult: . day, friends!" is “Zdravstvouite @rouzia’ “I love you” is “Ia vas liou- biiou;” “You are amusing yourselves” is “Vi viesielities;” “Will you dine with me” is_“Gelaieite so mnoiou obiedat.” Franco-Russian badges are beginning to be seen on everybody's breast: Russian flags are displayed at every window. Every street has its collection of money and ma- terial for decoration and illumination, and the cafe-concerts and variety theaters have real and imitation Russian singers and dancers. Madame Adam, who has not lost with age her incurable manta for mixing herself Marine Russe, and “Drink to} THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D. C., SATURDAY, OCTOBER 28, 1893-TWENTY PAGES. up with public affairs, has given her latest interference a very graceful turn. Every- where subscriptions have been organized for the due reception of the Russian visi- tors, not only for street illuminations, but for torchlight processions, giant banquets and balls in their honor. Adam has come forward to invite French women to unite in presenting the wives or nearest female relatives of the Russian sailors and officers with a souve- nir jewel in the form of a forget-me-not. ‘The fetes themselves. both at Toulon and at Paris, are planned on a great scale; though it will be difficult for the French to equal some of the details of the reception given to their own sailors at Cronstadt, St. Petersburg and Moscow, some two full years ago. There the common people cut buttons and pieces of cloth from the uni- forms of the French officers to preserve them as relics. But that was gratitude for value received. The Russian loan was be- ing effected. Since then over four milliards of French gold have gone in Russian loans. French love for Russia, on the other hand, must arise from that gratitude which has been defined as “a lively appreciation of benefits to come.” France and Russia. ‘There is no doubt, however, that the whole French people of every class find an immense relief in the proposed demonstra- tion from the feelings excited by the recent provocations of Germany and Italy. A few older Frenchmen shake their heads, remem- bering Napoleon's saying: “Before the end of the century Europe will be republican or Cossack.” But no one has the heart to oppose an alliance which really seems nec- essary to the peace of Europe. This probably explains the readiness of the Tsar to further the alliance. It is known that he considers his mission in the world to be the preservation of peace among the nations of Europe. This is quite in character with his simple, hearty, good-natured disposition, like that of some bourgeois papa who finds himself somehow burdened with the absolute government of the largest country of the world. The Tsar is seen at his best in the few weeks’ vaca- tion he gives himself each year in his wife's family in Denmark. His mother-in-law, the Queen Louise, who is related by the marriages of her children to nearly every sovereign in Europe, is known to have great influence over him. Very charming things are told of his simple love for the little army of nephews and nieces and cousins which usually unite together at this seagon. His latest escapade of this summer was to run off by himself with a dozen of these royal and imperial children on a stolen rail- way trip in whatever carriages, third class or first class, where places could be found. ‘The officials of the Uttle way-train were thunderstruck, and hardly knew what to do, while the Tsar was as confused at be- ing found out as his delight in the company of the little ones would allow him to be. The desire for war in Russia is said to come from the officers of the army and navy; both the people and the Tsar are said to dread it and resist it. In France the de- sire for war is boiling hot in the blood of all the people, rich and poor, soldiers and civil- jans. It ts kept down and partly hidden by its very strength and sincerity, and by the feeling which everybody has, that the pro- vocation and the first movements as well should not come from France, but Ger- many. They feel they have a moral right to win next time, and they want to go in with a clean conscience, to have the full benefit of the enthusiasm of defenders rather than aggressors. ‘The Fetes at Toulon. For this reason it is feared that the zeal }of certain French republicans during the time of these Franco-Russian fetes may outrun their discretion, and semi-official warnings have been given to the people to be circumspect in their rejoicings and par- ticularly to give out no cries insulting to other nations along with “Vive La Russt “Vive la France!” “Down with the Mac- caronis!”” was already begun to be heard last week. At Toulon some of the more enthusiastic have proposed to rechristen the great Square of Toulon, which still bears its an- cient name of Notre Dame, and call it Cronstadt. This would be killing two birds with one stone, for it would be giving a side kick to the clericals. But the news- Papers hurriedly remarked that the Rus- sians are fanatical devotees of the Virgin, and would not appreciate the compliment. Then it was proposed to compromise and call the place Notre Dame de Cronstadt! But such measures of renaming, like the proposed change of the Boulevard des Ital- fens to Boulevard de Cronstadt, have al- ready died their natural death. A comic note in the general excitement has been furvished by the action of small provincial towns all over France. They have been sending up delegations to offer their fealty at the Russian embassy, where there has been only an attache to ‘receive them in the vacation season. They were also beginning to plan the most wonderful popular demonstrations; but the ministry | saw the necessity of moderating their en- | thusiasm. The order at last went forth | that neither mayors nor prefects should de- | cide on any action to be taken in the matter | of demonstrations until it should be ap- proved by higher authority. | The following is the official program of the Franco-Russian fetes, from the arriva: {of the fleet at Toulon until its departure fifteen days later: October 13—Arrival of the fleet at Toulon. In the afternoon a visit to the arsenal ana the Hotel de Ville. In the evening a din- ner to the officers given by the Frencl: minister of marine, followed by ilumina- tions in the Mediterranean from warships and many other ships. by _the French October 14—Dinner given vice admiral, on board the “Formidable.’ In the evening a giant ball. October 15—A lunch given by the munict- pality of Toulon. Feast of flowers in the afternoon, followed by a gala evening a. the theater. October 16—The Russian officers are to be taken through a complete visit to the great |‘Toulon arsenal. Another state lunch wil: | be given them; after which, departure for Paris. Dinner on the train. October 17—Arrival in Paris,9 a.m. Popu- lar rejoicings. Lunch at the Military Club. | Audience with the president. Dinner ana | ball at the Elysee. | October 18—Lunch, followed by a reception at the ministry of marine. October 19—Lunch given by the Russian ambassador, followed by a great reception. Dinner given by the Paris municipality. Torch-light procession. Concert at the Hotel de Ville. October 20—The tour of Paris in carriages, offered by the municipality. Lunch in the Bois de Boulogne. Ball at the Hotel de Ville (8.900 invitations). October 2i—Lunch given by M. Dupuy. Reception. Gala night at the opera. Sup- per at the Military Club. October 2—Lunch given by Gen. Loizil- lon. Reception at the Military School. Car- rousel (not carousal) in the machinery hal: of the exposition of 1889. Processions. Wa- | ter-fete on the Seine. Banquet given by the Paris press (3,000 invitations). Fire- works at the Eiffel Tower and Trocadero. October 23—Lunch at the Military Club. Visit to Versailles. Dinner at the ministry of marine, followed by a reception dan- sante. October 24—Lunch given by M. Carnot. Final reception at the Elysee. Departure for Toulon. October 25—Arrival at Lyons. October 26—Arrival at Marseilles. October 27—Ceremonial launching of a new French warship. October 28—Departure of the Russian fleet rom n. Sri these doings are for the benefit of the’ Russian admiral and half his officers; the other half are obliged to remain in Toulort a for the duties of the fleet. At first it was intended that all should come up, in relays, but it was impossible to prolong the visit enough to allow this. The benefit to the general Paris public from these fetes will be derived from what it can pick up in passing, from the illumi- nations and parades, and from a quickening of patriotic pride added to the shower of money that will have begun to fall so early this season upon the world’s capital of Pleasure. Few Parisians can possibly be admitted to the dinners, receptions, gala nighgs and balls. Even at the gala night of the opera ten times as many applicants for seats, at enormous prices, have been re- as the opera can seat. As it is, no one is allowed to pay anything, as all ad- mittances are by the invitation of the French government. At the press banquet, a large proportion of the tickets have been sold, at the regu- lar price of $2 each; but applicants, before being allowed to pay their ten francs, have been obliged to be scrutinized; and no one is to be admitted unless he is able to show some claim or position in society. 3 Even the municipal ball of 8,000 invita- tions has its lists completely closed, and terrible are the tales of push on the part of Parisians and Parisienfes for the highly coveted tickets. But the river is free, the streets are free, the newspapers are cheap and war-scares plenty and with torchlights, red fire, volunteer eloquence in every cafe, and popular singing and dancing in every open square, the people of Paris are bound to have the greatest week that they have wn for a generation. STERLING HEILIG. DONT TAKE A WOMAN’S ARM. He Who Dees So Deserves to Be Call- ed “na Gent.” From the New York Press. There is only one man in the world who can be pardoned for the atrocity of taking a ‘woman's arm, and he is the policeman who arrests her for shoplifting or tries to save her from a cable or trolley car or some other form of sudden death. Any other man guilty of such a massacre of good taste and good manners deserves—not to be shot, but to be designated “a gent.” Common sense and custom have establish- ed the rule that after dark a gentleman shall give his arm to the lady he is with. This not only signifies to the public that he is acting as an escort, and saves her from its comments and jostling, but enables the two to keep easily in step. There are also eccasions during the day when a rude crowd, rough walking, standing in the cars or lack of strength makes a manly arm doubly welcome to a delicate woman. In short, the courtesy is beautiful in its sig- nificance of the attitude of man and wo- man. It must be admitted, however, that many men are so ignorant or so careless in their manner of extending this courtesy that a sensitive woman would rather walk with both hands in her muff or her pockets if she @ared than avail herself of it. Walking behind a couple arm in arm, one can gen- erally guess at the man’s breeding and his relation to the woman. The anxious lover is as easily detected as the indifferent hus- band. The former holds his arm at an angle acute with hope and tenderness and admirably adapted to the height of the angel who trips beside him. When she puts her little hand under his coat sleeve his heart goes out with a thump to meet it, and it is with an ill concealed effort that he refrains, if he does refrain, from pressing it passionately to his side as he blesses himself that the cruel world does sanction this one sweet, unspoken mode of communi- cation. As even the noblest, strongest tree inclines toward the sparkling and murmur- ing stream, his whole being leans toward the tender creature at his side, and, with a courage that is delicious to contemplate, he protects her in her innocent little alarms from even the shadow of a mouse on the sidewalk. Then watch the married man, not the ideal married man, but the average hus- band of the average wife. He stalks along as nearly like the red Indian with his squaw in his tracks as civilization permits. His strong arm, crooked at the feeblest an- gle, hangs limply down, furnishing a sort of sliding scale for the slende- hand that in vain seeks for a resting place. Sometimes, in crossing a walk or mounting a step, the slender hand slips away altogether, and then, in accordance with his degree of natural brutality, indifference or ill breed- ing, he asks why the something she can’t hold on, or what the thing-a-bob she’s try- ing to do now. She sighs and says nothing. Better it 1s to see a couple just in the prime of life and who have climbed its heights together so well and so faithfully that they walk with one gait, just as they feel, with one accord; he with shoulder weil squared to the world and a strong arm that holds with tender firmness the hand that came to him with the truest heart in all the world. Best of all see the venerable couple, whose bent figures and snowy locks are beautified by the love of a life-time, as arm in arm they descend the hill of life into the shadows of the peaceful valley. To return, however, to the purely prac- tical aspect of arms-giving, it is well to add that in certain parts of the country it has a Peculiar significance. For instance, we are told that in Wisco! for a young lady to accept of a gentleman's arm in the daylight 1s almost equivalent to the sending out of wedding cards, and we know this to be so in East Tennessee. Right up in the Great Smoky mountains, which Miss Murfree so lovingly depicts, the stalwart mountainee:, whose six feet of brawn and muscle be- comes as so much pulp, will approach his divinity at a camp meeting or picnic with the agitating query, “Have a wing?” This is the crucial test. If from the depths of a fascinating sun bonnet issues the cruel words, “I wouldn’t give shucks for chick- en," then the mountaineer knows his doom. If, however, through those gingham frills {: breathed the tender words, “I don’t care if I do”—then bring forth the magnolia blos- soms and ring the bells. ———+e+_____ At the Manicure’s. From the New York Herald. The manicure with the golden hair was bending over the hand of a new customer. “Do you want your hand bleached?” she asked. “Yes.” She applied the bleach, using more than the ordinary quantity upon the thumb and forefinger of the right hand. After work- ing for about five minutes she stopped and “It is always difficult to remove nicotine with the first application.” “Wh-a-a-t?” gasped the society girl, ele- vating her eyebrows. “Nicotine? What do you mean?” “The cigarettes, you know,” replied the manicure; “it's perfectly awful how they stain the fingers, ain't it?” and she smiled a@ smile that even the society girl couldn't resist. That made them friends, and they fell to discussing the different brands of cigarettes. And when the job was done the society girl whispered ““What'll take the stain off?” “Use lemon juice—I do—we all do.” “Thanks. ————+e+—____ Not a Hoosier. From the Atlanta Constitution. Blackburn is a thorough Kentuckian, and has all the local pride of one born in the blue grass section of his state. He a!so has the prejudice against being taken for an Indianian which seems inherent in all na- tive-born Kentuckians, so the story goes. While coming to Congress several sessions ago he was approached in the Pullman coach by a New Yorker, who, after bowing Politely to him, said: “Is not this Senator Blackburn of In- diana?" The Kentuckian sprang from his seat, and, glaring: at his interlocutor, exclaimed angrily: “No, sir, by —. The reason I look so bad is I have been sick.’ Had Been a Waiter. From Truth. Proprietor of restaurant—“Yes, I want to hire a waiter. Have you had experience?” Applicant—“Yes, sir. I used to take my meals here. —s “Up to Date.” From Life A RUBBER OR TWO. ‘From All the Year Round. HE MAN’S ONLY A visitor—a complete stranger to the club!’ “It's to be hoped he'll remain a strang- “To my mind his conduct looks un- commonly like inso- lence.” “It is certainly pre- sumptuous. I~ sup- Pose it will be al- lowed that we have played whist before “Played whist! Good heavens! I played whist, sir, before I was breeched! The Penfolds have been a whist-playing fam- fly for generations. My mother played whist, and her mother! I myself am sixty- three years old, and I beg leave to state that I have lost as much money and made as much money at whist as any man of my means in England!’ “I don’t pretend to have had your expe- rience, general, but I have always been un- der the impression that I have had some rudimentary notions of the game. “Of course you have! And so’s the ad- miral!” Gen. Penfold turned towards Ad- miral Glover. He raised his voice to a roar. “Haven't you, admiral?” The admiral was sitting in an attitude in- dicative of dejection. He rubbed his hands together. “I should ike to have a rubber.” Mr. Bowman leaned over towards the ad- miral, and explained, in a crescendo scale. “The general was asking if you had any idea of the rudiments of whist.” “Yes, a rubber at whist. But there are only three of us.” The admiral Idoked around the room, as if he were searching for a fourth. The gen- eral glared him. “The old beggar gets deafer every day.” He thrust his hands in his trouser-pockets. “It’s the craze of the day, the desire to teach your grandmother. But hang me if I ever thought it was going to come to whist!" “Only a visitor, too!’ “I've played whist in this club for over fifteen years, and I’ve never been so sat upon before. Why, if there’s any rule in whist which every tyro knows, it is the rule which tells you that you're to return your partner’s lead. When, the other night, I had this man Cramp for a partner, he never returned my lead except once! And then why on earth he did it I don’t know.” “When I was playing with him,” plain- tively commented Mr. Bowman, “he trumped my trick. I have always under- stood that to trump your partner's trick is not a commendable thing to do. Yet, when at the end of the hand I pointed out to him what he had done, he appeared to be quite surprised to find that I thought he had done anything wrong.” “And then the way in which he plays his trumps! When you're strong in trumps, play ‘em. Why, I've seen him lead trumps when he had a singleton, and stick to them like glue when he had six in hand.” “Have you noticed how the man’s a walking book case?” “I should think he’s in the trade. Con- found fim, he’s got a book in every pocket, I've played whist a!l my life, and I never ‘so much as looked at a book. I don’t go in long-winded words and scientific balderdash stick in my throat. I play good old-fashioned English whist! I’ve played good old-fashioned English whist all my fe! I mean to play good old-fashioned English whist until I die! It’s good enough for me. You can take your twiddly-twaddly new theories and your American buncombe to somebody who likes that kind of a thing. I don’t.” “Just s0."" was heard on the stairs. ° The man doesn’t know a club from a spade.” The door opened. Mr. Mills came in. “Hollo, Mills; you're just the man we want. Come and make up the rubber.” ir. Mills declined. hank you, general. You know I’m no Player. But here is Mr. Cramp.” Mr. Cramp came in. He was willing. “I shall be delighted.” Silence followed. The general and Mr. Bowmar looked at each other; then they looked at Mr. Cramp. Mr. Cramp seemed to be quite unconscious of their scrutiny. He seated himself at a table. He said: » “I am spoiling for a game.” The general and Mr. Bowman advanced toward the table. As they went, the gen- eral whispered into Mr. Bowman's ear: “In for it, by gad!” They seated themselves. The admirai brought up the rear. They cut for partners. The general and Mr. Bowman cut together. “As we sit,” the general chuckled. ‘ou remember, general,” remarked Mr. Cramp, “that discussion I had with you on leading from five, headed by a series of four, I have here ‘Bane on the Penultimate’ Mr. Cramp produced a little book from an inner pocket of his coat. “It is my deal,” interposed Mr. Bowman. “I think I cut the lowest.” The general assented without so much as @ sign. Mr. Cramp went on: t is a valuable little work. He savs here, on page eleven, referring to the leads from fives not trumps—” “Will you cut to me, Mr. Cramp?” Mr. Cramp cut to Mr. Bowman, and then continued: “Here is the hand. Hearts trumps. King, ten, five of hearts. Ten, seven of spades. Ace, queen, knave of diamonds. Queen, nave, ten, nine and four of clubs.” “Knave of clubs.” Mr. Bowman faced the trump. “Would you mind taking up your cards, Mr. Cramp?” “Eh—one—one moment. I—I should like just to tell you what Bane say: “Couldn't you tell us what Bane says after the rubber?” “I should very much like to get you one of these little works, general. Or perhay I might be able to get one for the club. They are rather expensive, but I think if I were to try—" “Are you in the book trade, Mr. Cramp?” “The book trade! What makes you think that?” “You seem so anxious, sir, that I should purchase books which are absolutely devoid of interest to me.” “It’s your lead, admiral!” roared Mr. Bow- man behind his hand. Mr. Cramp played his game, the admiral played hi The result was that though they had little the best of the cards, their adversaries scored two by tricks. Mr. Cramp endeavored to observe on this as the admiral began to deal. “Didn't you notice my call?” he inquired of his partner. ‘The admiral dealt calmly on. “Didn't you notice my call?” he repeated @ little louder. Still the admiral dealt. Mr. Bowman's countenance wore a bland smile. ‘ramp. The admiral, suddenly alive to the fact that some one was addressing him, fumbled with the cards as he turned his attention to his partner. “Fall? No, I heard nothing about your fall. Did you hurt yourself?” Every one smiled—but Mr. Cramp. That gentleman realized what it is to be afflict- ed. bet “‘He—he seems very deaf,” he said. No one took the remark as addressed to himself. The admiral went on dealing. The turn-up fell to Mr. Bowman. “Misdeal,” that gentleman remarked. “You put the admiral out by shouting at him, Mr. Cramp.” Mr. Cramp looked a little green. “A man is rather handicapped who has a partner who ts as deaf as a post.” The admiral, who seemed nonplussed at the result of his labors, was staring at the cards as they lay on the table. The gen- eral was preparing to take his turn. “You see, it it. Possibly he does, if he is left alone. Mr. Cramp put up his eyebrows. He smiled. “Don’t you think that It is possible for a man to have played whist al! his life, and to know very little about it after all?” ‘Scarcely, if he is an educated man, and has played with educated men.” “But suppose those educated men have been educated in everything else but whist?" Mr. Bowman shrugged his shoulders. The general laid down the pack of cards with which he was about to deal. “Excuse me, Mr. Bowman, but if we're first prin- going to have a discussion on ciples, I that The result of the hand was disastrous to himself and his partner than the first had been. By scoring the three odd tricks their opponents were enabled to announce a treble. This dire catastrophe seemed to cause the admira! some search- ing of heart. . s “Why,” he asked of Mr. Cramp, “didn’t you return my lead?” “What lead?” For once the admiral seemed keen of ra “T led a club.” “I wished to establish my spades. I had seven. If you had acted on my signal we should have had the game at our mercy.’ The admiral turned to the general. “What's he say? If he'd returned my lead I should have made my ace and queen of clubs.” Mr. Cramp leaned over the table. “I wish you'd let me persuade you to get ‘Cole on Whis' ‘Books agai grow'ed the general. ‘My dear generai, when a man tells me that he cares nothing for what he calls “book whist,’ I ask myself—and I sometimes ask him—if he thinks it possible to acquire a science by merely getting by heart, parrot fashicn, a number of obsolete and actually erroneous traditions.”” The general seemed to choke back some- thing which was in his throat. “Whose deal?” he demanded. “Mine,” said Mr. Cramp. “Then deal.” Mr. Cramp dealt. When the hend had been played it was found that Pelion had been pited upon Ossa. With three by tricks and the honors the general and his associate scored another treble off the reel. Two trebles and the rub was a pleasant commencement of the evening’s play. Nor was the pleasure lessened. from the loser’s point of view, by the fact that the cards had not been by. any means so one-sided as the result suggested. By this time several other persons had entered the room. No one attempted to start another rubber, but quite a crowd clustered around the table to watch the one which was already in progress. The process of cutting for partners was fol- lowed with interest, interest which was not lessened when it was observed that the | order of play was disarranged, and that Mr. iP was cast with the genera: “Have you been thinking about what I said to you the other night about the call?” inquired Mr. Cramp of his partner, as he took the seat which Mr. Bowman had va- cated. “About what?” As he put the question the general’s bear- ing was that of a broomstick, with a head on top. “The call. I have here a very admirable ttle work, by an American. It is called ‘The Call for Trumps, with some Remarks upon the Echo.’ Mr. Cramp drew a little paper-covered pamphlet from his waistcoat pocket. The general watched its appearance in a state of apparent speechlessness. “It may seem a little officious on my part to be so continually referring to authorities, but the truth is that whist, as a game, en- tirely altered during the last few years. I find here et Pendleton such a seeming un- consciousness of this fact that I hope I may be excused if I venture to call attention to the fundamental difference which exists be- tween whist as it is and as it was.” “Will some one ring the bell for me,” ob- served the general, “and order some brandy neat?” Mr. Cramp went placidly on, apparently Not observing the peculiarity of the gen- eral’s manner. “Whist, as it is, has attained to the aig- nity of an exact science. A whist player is able, by a series of prearranged signals, to inform his partner of every card in his hand. After two or three rounds he should know where every card is lying. So com- pletely is every detail arranged that it is Searcely an exaggeration to say that he should know exactly what card to play under every possible combination of circum- stances. In other words, he should be as entirely at his ease as if the cards were lying face upwards on the table.” “Aren't you going to have any more whist?” inquired, in the innocence of his heart, the admiral of the general. The general exploded. “Good heavens, sir! How the somethinged something should I know? The man’s talk- ing to us as though we were an awkward squad.” “Really, general, you mistake me.” Mr. Cramp’s manner was mild. The gen- eral’s manner, as he replied, was anything but mild. “I would have you not to mistake me, sir! This is the Pendleton Club. We are members of the Pendleton Club. You have done us the honor, while enjoying the Pen- dieton breezes, to become a visitor at the Pendleton Club. We desire to treat you as our guest. We don’t force you to play whist, but for goodness’ sake don't try to teach your grandmother if you do.” Mr. Cramp bowed, seemingly in quiet ac- quiescence. A rather acid smile was on his face. Perhaps he found the general, if a little vulgar, hard to answer. He returned the pamphlet to his waistcoat pocket. Mr. Bowman dealt the cards. The nine of hearts was turned. Mr. Cramp and his partner ought to have won the odd, but they didn’t. This was ow- ing to the difference between their styles of play. Possibly Mr. Cramp wouldn't under- stand his partner’s method, and it was quite evident that his partner couldn’t under- stand his. In consequence of which slight misunderstanding, although they had the honors, their opponents took three tricks, “I think, general,” ol Mr. with malicious intent, “that you ought to have had the odds.” “The odd, sir! We ought to have won the game!” He looked at his partner as if he had a mind to eat him. “Have you studied the American leads?” Mr. Cramp put the question to his ‘part- ner gently. “The what, sir?’ “The American leads. I have here—” Mr. Cramp’s hand stole toward the tails of his coat. “Good gad, sir, leave your books in your pocket!" Mr. Cramp accepted the rebuke. “It is a little work I have which deals with the American leads. I don’t think you ra | have paid much attention to the question which is now so prominent in the circles of pure whist, the question of the penulti- mate.” “The what, sir?” “The penultimate.” “I tell you what you don’t seem to have paid much attention, sir. You don’t seem to have paid much attention to the fact that you put your ace upon my king.” “I thought you wished me to. “Wished you to take my trick?” “In order that I might give you spades.” “Why the—something—did I want spades?” “Now that is the question which I put to myself. At the time I could only draw my inferences from your play.” ‘The general took out his bandanna. He wiped his brow. “Hasn't that brandy of mine come yet?’ During the next hand play progressed smoothly—in a sense—and to a certain point. At that point Mr. Bowman picked up a card from the table. “General, you have revoked.” The general, who had been playing as though he were sitting on hot bricks, turned @ beautiful peony color. “Never did such a thing in my life!” “You have done it now. You piayed a spade when a heart was led, and now you play a heart.” The thing ws undeniable. Every one saw it at once except the delinquent. He saw it by degrees. Mr. Bowman put up the double. “That was an unfortunate accident of yours, general.” Mr. Cramp said this quite sweetly. “We had the honors and the trumps and the cards. We might have made the odd trick, with luck. J have seen a treble scored with a much worse hand. But that of course, under present circum- stances, we can’t expect.” The general leaned upon the table. By stretching out his hand he might have caught his partner by the nose. “Are you playing with me or against me, sir? If you are playing with me, why do you take all my tricks?” “I own, general, that I find your lead— no pun intended—misleading!" The general drew his breath. “I—I don’t want to insult you, sir, but I have played whist for fifty years,’ and I have never before sat down at a table with @ man like you.” i o— I should imagine—judging from your lay.”” Pithe general sat back in his chair, He looked wildly round the room. Again he drew his bandanna across his brow. “Deal, some one! Let's—let’s get it over! I—I don’t want to make a brute of my- sel ‘The admiral dealt. And there was peace for a time. A short time, and then there was a storm. The general brought his fist down upon the table with a crash, which appeared to be even audible to the admiral. “Why the devil did you put your ace upon my queen?” Mr. Cramp seemed surprised. “I don’t know ff it is the custom at Pen- dleton to criticise the play while a game is rocess. ’ P 'm not going to sit still and be shot at by my own partner! Why the devil did you put your ace upon my queen?” “May I explain?’ Mr. Cramp turned to Mr. Bowman. That gentleman nodded. “I thought it was an urgent call.” “What the something do you mean by an urgent cally” “You put your king upon my knave.” “T was third player!” Mr. Bowman interposed. “You are wrong, general.” ether it mattered or not, he did it. And it did matter, for the result was that Mr. Bowman had the satisfaction—from his point of view—of putting up another treble off the reel. Mr. p smiled bitterly. “I think, general, all things considered, that you ought to pay my losses.” The general glared. He clutched the ad- miral by the arm. “Come along, admiral. Let’s get out cf this. I—I don’t want to misbehave myself in a public room. A room”—the general stood up—“in which I have played whist for over fifteen years, and in which I have never been insulted until tonight.” He tore the admiral from his seat. He which was rather hard upon the admiral, for he had no cause to find fault with the way in which the game had gone. ‘Might I offer my friend and myself as substitutes for the players who are gone— that is, if no other gen’ cares to play?” The speaker was a tall, slight man, with | | @ long, drooping mustache. Mr. Bowman | glanced up at him. He was a stranger to | him; but at that season of the year there are so many strangers in Pendleton that at the club one finds almost as many visit- ors as residents. Mr. Bowman had no rea- son to be disagreeable—he had won. “T am willing.” He glanced at Mr. Cramp. Mr. Cramp made a little gesture with his hands. “T am at anybody's service. All I ask is —whist! his friend came for- The stranger and ward. They fell together in the cut for | partners. The stranger, having cut the| | lowest, prepared to deal. As he dealt he addressed himself to Mr. Cramp. “Like you, my friend and myself are stu- dents of whist as it is; I might almost say of whist as it might be.” | | Mr. Cramp rubbed his hands softly, one agains t the other; it was a little trick he “Disciples of Cole?” “In a degree. In our system of signals we go further than Cole.” “I scarcely see how that can be, unless you have even improved upon the Ameri- NO? Well I shall happ’ explain “No? Well, I al be ¥ to to you after the rubber is over.” If the newcomers were not exactly dis- ciples of Cole they at least appeared to be disciples of the extremely difficult art of getting hold of the cards; and it was charming to see the way in which they handled them. They took trick after trick in the serenest style. “Book already!” murmured Mr. With a little laugh the stranger shut up the pack. The laugh was not echoed on the | expressive features of Mr. Cramp, nor on | | those of his partner. As yet they had not | |-scored a trick. The newcomers went gayly | on. They took the odd trick, and all the | Test besides. Or, rather, they stopped at five, since it was scarcely necessary to go | further. But there was nothing to show | that they could not have taken the whole thirteen had they been so inclined. Silence | followed this surprising result; that {s, so |far as the main com; iy was concerned. The stranger remained quite at his ease. “You see,” he said, “that is what I call whist as it is, or perhaps you would call it whist as it might be.” “It ought to be sent to the Field,” mur- mured Mr. Cramp. He seemed troubled in niewhist, ed the stranger, “in its more recent developments, as I understand the thing, becomes simply a question of sig- | nals. The most perfect system of signals | |results in the most perfect game. My | | friend and I have arranged between our- | selves a system of signaling which, I think I may say, is almost perfect.” “It-may be made too perfect,” said Mr. Cramp. “How so? You yourself said that whist has been raised to the dignity of an exact science. You can’t be too exact. Let’s car- sorry. “You look sorry,”’said Mr. Bowman. One does not mind not taking a trick once in a way, though one would prefer to be playing for love even on that solitary occa- sion; but when the experience is repeated— and in the following hand—a man has fidg- ets. That is what happened that evening at the Pendleton Club. The newcomers again walked off with the whole of the tricks,and Mr. Cramp had fidgets, and so had his part- ner. As for the stranger, he, if possible, ‘was more at his ease than ever. “You see,” he cried, “to what perfection @ system of signals may be carried. How completely knowledge may eliminate chance “I do,” said Mr. Bowman. “T see it plain- ly. I see it much too plainly. Gentlemen, if this is whist as it is, in future I shall turn my attention to some other game.” He rose from his seat. Immediately anoth- er person, a dapper little man, with shaven | cheeks and big black eyes, had his hand on the back of the vacant chair. “Gentlemen,” with your permission, may I complete the four?” No one offered an objection. The man rat down. He cut Mr. Cramp as his partner. The two friends were again together. The latest comer had the deal. student of whist, In its latest phase. This is, as it appears to me: That a man is bound to acquire a spe- | clal and peculiar knowledge, either on his | own account or in concert with other men, | and that he is entitled to take every possi- ble advantage of a man who knows less than he. As has been said, whist, in a sense, has become a science. Science, in the sense in which in this connection the word is used, eliminates the element of chance. Now, partner, let us see if we cannot com- mand the fortune of war. He turned the ace of hearts. He took the first trick with a trump—the deuce. He led the ace of trumps in the second trick, the king in the third, the queen in his fourth. At this point the player on his right laid down his hand. ‘All trumps,” admitted the dealer. With a charming frankness he faced his hand. “The deuce!” There was an interval for reflection. Then that player delivered him- self again. “You're a conjurer,” he said. “Iam. So are you, and your friend.” “Not conjurers; merely blers by the way. “Oh, that explains it. I'm a professional. And of course in whist, in its latest phase, the amateur ts done.” He addressed himself to Mr. Cramp: “Take my advice. Throw some of those books of yours upon the fire. If their tench- ings are to be pushed to their logical con- clusion, whist will become a game only fit for—conjurers. ———_+o-_____ Alcohol in Chicken Raising. From the Pittsburg Dinpatch. + “Yee, sir. I can raise chickens three days quicker by planting the eggs than can be done in the regular way,” said an old man who officiates as gardener for a prominent iron manufacturer on 5th avenue, East End. It seems strange, but chickens are about the only things that man is able to grow. The usual things produced in a garden languish and fail under his but chickens thrive. “You see, I brought this idea over with me from the old country. I place the eggs in a box with a little fer- tilizer, then plant the box about four or five inches below the surface.” “Well, some one told me you indulged in an incantation over the box,” said the re- porter. “Not at all; I just put a ttle vinegar rae it, nothing else,” was the gardener’s reply. “You don’t understand me. I mean that you use some charm or other.” “Oh, no! The only rule you must follow is not to open the box except between the going down and the coming up of the sun,” eee = hag Aap on answ . “Then there some mystery about it, r all?” was asked. you must keep the box dry,” replied the old chicken farmer. The reporter gave up further questioning as futile, and permitted the gardener to tell _his story without interruption. “Well, you see, I let the box remain under | the ground for a period equal to that re- quired for a hen to hatch out eggs, less three days, then open the box in the even- ing. Then I find I have my chickens all hatched out. I am met here with a difi- culty. If I try to put the young chickens with a hen to raise she will peck at them until she kills them. It is too much trouble to care for them myself, so I have to play | a trick. I take a chicken that is not lay-| ing well and make her drunk. I do this by | giving her whisky, and soon she begins to stagger around, until at last, in a drunken stupor, she lies down. I take her, and.) fixing her carefully in a box I have already prepared, place the chicks under her. By | morning the effects of the alcohol have | worn off, and the hen ts going around the | yard clucking to her young brood in the proudest manner. She imagines that she has been sitting upon the eggs. and this i< the result of her patience. ve tried this a number of times and the experiment | has never failed.” FOR INDIGESTION _ Use Horstord’s Acid Phosphate. If your dinner distresses you, try it It aids digestion. | mie dragged him with him from the room, | 2&4 W TRAINS ON WASHINGTON TON leave Waeslucton 1 ill, and 6.25 p.m. Herndon and intermediate sta Hire, JVashlagton . ‘Through 6.43 am.. trains rfom the south arrive Washington 2.55 p.m. and $45 pm: Dt m. datiy except Sunday, and 8.40 a.m. rlottesville. Teservations and information and 1300 Station, Pennay’ PENNSYLVANIA STATION CORNER OF ‘aixtie In effect 10.15 aM.” COLUMEL to Cine! and 10.15 A.M. FAST LINE.—For Pit and Chi and ‘Cars from 10 Pa PRANSI LV EA LMT Be mat Drawing and State in FOR NEW i ae age ELPHIA Rigs 3 oe Rat Tith Dining Car from Baltimore for and For Ci tt buled Limited, 3.30 Por Pittsburg and am. and 8.40 p.m. For Lexington and Staunton, 110.40 a.2. For Winchester and way stations, 15.30 p. For Luray, Natural Bridge, Chattanooga’ and Memotiie. yay* + Ing cars throven, to Semple ‘or ’ For Baltimore, ‘week ds: 5.40, 6.28, 7.15, (8 Talontes), 2208, S30; 630 agen : sr BGS Ba i 35 a 3 : 12. TExcept renitenees St ‘Co. on orders left at + © Gen Manager. Gell) Gen. ‘Pan ie’. (CHESAPEAKE AND OFTO RAILWaY. SCHEDULE IN EFFHCT AUGUST 21. 1908. ‘Trains leave dally from and Union Station (B. P.). @th and B ets. ‘Thronzh the grandest scenery in wt fhe, hand and moet Tomplete Roitt-trats Bervice fest from 3.00" p.m Qallr—""Washineton and Chteage pe cial” Solid newly Hented train. Pullman's Gnest siceping cars Wash- 1o" Cincinnati and Washington. to Chlesen, 125" a.m., Indianapolis 11-48 am, Chicero 8:33 pm. ‘10 p.m. Gattr_The famous “FF. ¥. Tim. teed Pema SS in, ag ‘Ainine .m:. Lexington 6:15 p.m. Louisville 8:50 2 . Chienge 6:55 2.1 Rn aerene “neue bee doa slecner Wednesdays throngh to withont change: arrives 8:00 on. 2:00 nm. Asfiy—Frpress for Gorfonevitie, Char. . Warneshoro’, Staunton and principal Viccioin potnte: “dally, ‘except Sunday. for’ Biche locations and tickets at company’s of- roy Sian 10 Ponna. are. Lea’ ‘View whart, adees ‘Mondays, Wednesfiavs and 2 Tecel al hour of sailing. Teicobene. v Fr. STEED & CO., agents, Alexandria. 8. RANDALL, entT-te irior and Momneer. NORFOLK AND WASHINGTON STEAMBOAT 00. DAILY LINE BETWEEN WASHINGTON, D. c. ‘ROE and FORTRESS MONROE. 1 ty ‘The ve 7 and powerful Iron Palnce Steamers, SHINGTON AND NORFOLK SOUTH BOUND. = w hoes @aily at 7 p.m. from foot of Teh at. wharf. ative at Fortres Monroe at 6:39 Sm. next Gay | Arrive at Norfolk, at 7-23 4 vouth and soutawest. TH fly at @-10 p.m. Leave Fortress m. Arrive at Washington at le at SIR GIA, 1251 and 1421 Penn Rag 615 15th et. nw. ‘Ask for th kets via the new line. Telephone 750. TNO. carrares o eplstt jon, Soop J.T. WALKER SONS, 204 10TH ST. NW Batiaing Moth-proot Goods, Fire” Brivis Gay’ ana Tile "Aavewien, Flue Lining, Pein ate