Evening Star Newspaper, October 28, 1893, Page 20

20 GOWNS AND WALLS. Women Who Make Their Dresses Harmonize With Their Rooms. PROMENADE COSTUMES FOR PALL How Wide Skirts Have Improved the Gait of Women. DRESSY BITS OE MOURNING. Gpecial Correspondence of The Evening Star. NEW YORK, October 27, 1993. AKISH TRIMMINGS of braids are used for all sorts of gowns for all kinis of occasions. Thus @ stylish skirt of very heavy repped wool has two bands of wide Hercules braid at each side from belt to hem. Buttons and buttonholes are added on the braid as far as the knees, and on one side these but- tons and buttonholes are practicable, for the skirt really but- tons on, not all the way down, to be sure, but far enough to make getting into it an easier matter than is usual. The set of skirt is a wonder; front and sides are as board and sweep out in a beauteous clined plane from belt to foot. At the Dack it lies in heavy organ-pipe flutes. The stiffness ts due partly to crinoline and partly to the weight and close weave of the goods. ‘The bodice is a round waist with cute little skirts attached, and fluting as prettily as does the back of the dress skirt. Sleeves are leg-o’-mutton with coat cuffs turned back loosely, the bodice opens over a vest of silk and there are stiff revers that flute @ little at the edge. The wool stuff is a bright green ground, heavily repped in dull red, a line of brown running on the green ground between the reps and softening and enriching the entire effect. The vest and braid are shot green and brown silk. The skirts of the bodice, the entire dress skirt and the cuffs and revers are lined with a bright emerald shade of silk. The whole combination is most stunning, but It is all very heavy. Really, it would be better to let a maid follow trundling the gown in a wheelbarrow, that all may admire. It will be, you will find, too much like work to carry it. Women now are excessively careful that their house gowns shall harmonize with their rooms. A well-known society woman always sends her dressmaker a sample of the curtains hanging in the reception room im which the dress ordered is to be worn. Even little breakfast gowns are carefully @elected to harmonize with whatever the scheme of color may be in the dining room. A House Dress Besides Showy Mourn- ing. It is even said that one young lady in- sisted that her fiance should give her full information about the plans for furnishing the house in which he intended to receive her, contending that otherwise she should not dare select any of her more elaborate gowns. While many of us are not in a Position requiring such extreme care, it may be as well to avoid a receiving gown of a olor that will distinctly clash with the walls of your room, or the chair upon which you may perhaps be seated. After the initial, which presents a simple and dressy walking costume in gray cloth, there comes a house ress which is a safe one for any ordinary surroundings. It is made of black silk with @ yellow stripe through it and strewn with Hitle yellow dots. The bodice fastens at the side and fs cut on the cross. Two wee bows hold the bertha in place, and the collar of velvet is trimmed with yellow ribbon. Th companion figure displays an odd and yet very swell example of stylish mourning. The gown is in black crepon and the cape corresponds and has a band of crepe cut on the cross about the edge. A crepe ruching goes about the neck and a small bonnet is worn, trimmed with two crepe bows. Another dressy bit of mourning is por- trayed at the right In the third illustration. In this model, which is designed for a young or middle-aged matron, the skirt Is made of biack cashmere trimmed with three gradut ated rows of crepe. The jacket is of cloth, with a pretty butterfly cape of crepe. Al though. as shown, the dress is for mourning, it can be carried out for any other time by substituting velvet for the crepe trimming. Promenade Costumes. The other street costume of the same pic- ture has its skirt of dark brown cloth trim- med only at the hem with a narrow flounce. The pretty cape is trimmed with three rows of otter fur, as is the deep collarette. The Medici collar is warmly lined with the same fur. Dark blue,quite the usual yachting shade, is combined with a dull grass green for the street, and in many instances in most ex- traordinary fashion. Only that the green is too evidently a new color to permit any one for a moment to imagine that the gown was other than a fresh inspiration of the latest craze, it would be supposed that the | girl had made some awful mistake. As,for instance, a gown of blue rough cloth is made quite plain with a full gored skirt. Over this is worn a Russian blouse bodice of the green cloth, the skirts coming well down and not buttoning below the waist lime. Over the blouse is worn an Eton jack- et of the blue cloth, cut short in the back and front, and hanging loose and open.with little revers at the collar. If the green thing were left off, the rest of the gown would be recognized as just a little outing} affair, but that cannot be suspected either, because as the girl steps up the hich curb the blue skirt ts lined, as far as you can see. with green silk to match the green bodice affair. So it must be all right, you Soft felt hat. The material chosen ts an ex- tracrdinartly heavy cheviot, in soltd black or dark mixture. Every effort is made to THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D. ©. SATURDAY. OCTOBER 28, 1893—TWENTY PAGES. render the gown conspicuous for absolute simplicity and freedom from all exaggera- tion of style. It is, perhaps, unnecessary to say that such a gown costs about three times the usual ornate and fiddle-dee-dee gown, and that proportion generally holds between the cost of a thing which is ele- gantly simple and one which is “simply elegant.” A Cape in Black Velvet. decide, and sigh with wonder. Tailor-made gowns are being carried out } mm the most severe lines, the only conces- sion to the present mode being in the gored | skirt, but no exaggeration of effect is al- | lowed there even. The bodice fits as a tailor-made must, without a wrinkle. It is double-breasted, and has coat collar revers which are no more pronounced than those on a man’s coat. The finish of the gown is in all ways like that on a man’s suit. Mas- culine collar, tie and cuffs are worn, and a Pretty capes are shown in bewildering v: riety, and two pretty velvet ones are sketch. ed in the final two pictures. The first of these is in black velvet lined with pink silk. Bows of small jet ornaments hide each seam of the narrow breadths of velvet. and the epaulettes and collar are profusely trim- med with passementerie. A jet ball fringe finishes the cape’s edge. The epaulettes come over to fasten at the front of the cape and must be well stiffened with crinoline. Miroir brown velvet miposes the other blue silk and ornamented at the shoulders with points of jet. What appears in front as a ruching of velvet falls in a hood at the back. Another of Brown Velvet. ‘The latest and most hideous idea for skirt decoration is a series of ruffles set a-tilt in @ manner calculated to make a woman fall | over her nose directly she gets into the skirt. The first ruffie starts in the hack as high almost as the hips, and in its pro- gress to the front dips to a level below the hips right in front. The next frill is set Just below the first and accomplishes a corres- ponding dip from back to front, and so on down. When a ruffle in its dip hits the edge of the skirt it is stopped there and taken up on the opposite edge of the skirt to continue its reckless career to the starting place at the back. The frills, of course, get shorter and shorter till the last appears only at the back, and for a tiny space to each side. It is surely safe to say that no woman could comfortably keep her balance in such a skirt. But with a bit of grumbling at an occasional crazy or demented trimming we should remember one great advantage to the sex due to the wide skirts. That is the improved gait women have acquired since these new wide gowns came in. Women should be grateful, for there was never a skirt so pretty, so light, or so easy to wear as the unexaggerated example of the skirt fashion now gives to us. Let us stick to it. A generation of such skirts would do much to reorganize woman physically, and give her again the grace it is said she so sadly lacks just now. With the advent of real cold weather the great big muffs of our grandmothers’ day are to be carried, and they are surely a lot more sensible than those of a few years ago that hardly warmed the tips of the tinlest fingers. The big ones are so nice to keep the hands warm when coming home from the party, and they do say, those who are old enough to know, that these big muffs will hold three hands as well as two, and that is a big advantage. ——__- + e+ —___ Fleeting Fashions in Dogs. From the Westminster Gasett What ts to be the coming dog? He gener- ally makes his debut about this time of | year, and not infrequently selects the lawn {at Brighton for his stage. The curious | thing is that the dog shows, as a rule, take | little notice of him. They stick to their old established lines and only admit the new- comer when the gloss of novelty ts no long- | er on his coat. For the dog of the season— | like the waltz of the season or the color of | the season—only lasts the season. He and | his offspring, of course, continue in the | land, but his special claim to fame ends | with the year of his adoption, and thus we |have had the fox terrier, till his sharp | bark, greediness and tendency to shed his white coat have at last made him un- popular. The broken-haired variety followed, but with a modified success. We have had the Kittle black Schipperkes, the tatlless dogs of the Belgian bargees, but their barks were sharper than the fox terrier’s and their talllessness was a fraud. Last year the Irish terriers—the tan, not the whkeaten— were much prized, and their patronage by the queen added much to their popularity. Collies seem, happily, at a discount. It is said that this breed has to answer for two- thirds of the authenticated cases of hydro- phobia. The coming dog has not yet de- clared himself, but there is an impression that the fashion will be for rather large terrier much spoken of, and the short- lesa long-bodied, rat-tailed, smooth Scotch terrier is said to be looking up. His attraction is ugliness. a Once Too Often. From Vogue. With skirt held up most daintily She crossed the road in front of mez My eyes were not asleep! Her little feet, ‘neath stlken sheen, Would peep to see {f they were seen, And theo retreat with modest mien, But soon again they'd peep. The fetching hat upon her head Was lovelier than a flower bed. Or any crown of flowers! Her gown most modest, swell and new, Imprisoned her form. divinely true, Surpassing forms e’en fancy knew Or seen tp fairies’ bowers. “The brave alone deserve the fair,” I thought I'd chance it then and there. So stepping with more life, red—she turned her fi B Ske looked at me! What could I say? I had “mistook” my wife! soe —__ won’s Choice. fe \ rte, gh, Immature Youth (getting his first shave)— “Shave down, please.” Barber—‘Yes; that’s all there ig to shave.” pretty garment. It is xed with turquoise | dogs. There is a large breed of the Irish | WAY BELOW THE street level and un- der the groined ceil- Ings of the basement of the Post Office De- partment building are a lot of cool,dark vaults and corridors which, perhaps, eountenanced as architectural results, were not expected to serve otherwise. The fact remains, how- ever, and it is an aged reality at that, that those vaults constitute a most important feature of that goal of all Washington sightseers —the dead letter office—and that it is one of the capital curios of the coun- try; a governmental bric-a-brac shop,where where each article offered for sale is ac- curately and truthfully described that pur- chasers may only buy with their eyes wide open. As a rule that man or woman who, after long waiting and more or less anxiety and | curtosity, has one of his or her letters re- turned to the writer from the dead letter | office, enjoys a feeling of satisfaction, relief and thankfulness. But while trying to con- clude whether or not the government offi- clals read the letter through carefully, all | gratitude is forced aside in wonderment as | to how in the world the postal authorities {ean be so lax or careless. Thereupon a | verdict is rendered that there are altogether | too many letters sent to the dead letter office. A Wonderfal Feat. Therefore the average citizen will be ™uch astonished to learn that less than one-half of one per cent of all the letters mailed daily in the United States fail of being promptly and correctly delivered. Now then, take this less than one-half of one per cent and you will find that it approxi- mates, datly, about 18,000 letters and pack- ages. Think of sending out 4,000,000 letters in a single day and of having every letter, save a paltry 18,000, delivered promptly and correctly; yet the delivery feat is performed day in and day out, from one year’s end to the other, by the United States postal offi- cials. More than that, % per cent of all letters received at the dead letter office are ultimately delivered to the addresses they bear or returned to the writers. Thus we find that the aggregate of “final- ly dead’ mati matter is, by comparison with the total business done, infinitesimal in quantity. Small as it is, however, about 5,000 packages of mail which cannot be de- livered or returned have accumulated in the bric-a-brac department of the dead let- ter office during the past twelve months. Of course it is very exasperating to have a@ letter or other package remain unac- knowledged for months after it has been matied, but this exasperation is quite apt to evolute to a form of deep chagrin when one discovers (after the lost package has been returned to him from the dead letter office) that the anxiety, anger and general dis- | comfort has been caused by some error of | his or her own. And yet ninety-five per cent of the mail matter which fails of de- livery has been incorrectly prepared for the post by the writers or senders. Frequent Error Perhaps the most common error is the use of nick-names and terms of endearment, in- tead of signing one’s own full name, ours truly, Dick, or affectionately, your mamma,” do not signify anything definite when looked at from the practical stand- point of the dead letter examiners, however pleasing they might have been had they been recetved by the persons addressed. Another very frequent—and ft is somewhat excusable—mistake is pressure of business and preoccupation of mind. This error shows itself in the form of a letter intend- ed, for instance, for some one in Chicago. The writer, a resident of New York, full of business, unconsciously writes the name of his own city upon the envelope instead of that of the whirlpool of the west and does not learn of the mistake until he receives the letter from Washington. From Red-Headed Hal. One young man, evidently a student, un- doubtedly enjoyed his careful preparation of a fish which he sent by mail to someone whom the postal authorities could not find, | did not get the specimen and why it was not even returned to the sender, he may know that it is because he signed his name: room-mate.” There is probably, somewhere in this country, a very much gzieved young lady because of the loss of a silver-mounted razor strop which she sent to a wandering brother who could not be found at the ad- dress given. It would have veen returned to her had she given a more definite signa- ture than: “Affectonately your sister, Sara.” And so it goes daily at the repository of the finally dead mail matter, without fur- nishing any accurate method for reaching a | certain estimate in detail as to the cause | thereof. From year to year the accumula- tion increases about in proportion to the and through all but one conclusion is posi- tive and unanswerable. The people of the United States do not fully appreciate the of the names of streets and the street num- bers of houses; they do not know that a re- | to the local post office authorities. mean: | certain increase in the labors of those offi- cialis. It is estimated that the business of the dead letter office would quickly become a thing of the past if a law were enacted compelling all persons putting packages in- to the United States mails to write or print their own names and addresses upon the , outside of each package. Possibly this es- timate is correct, but it is not practicable and would work hardships upon the masses | which are now borne by the few—at an an- nual salary per captta therefor. Silent Witnesses of Interesting In- eldents. Besides it would abolish one of the most interesting of the many entertaining sights in Washington. And what a sight it is, this undeliverable department of the dead letter office. Here is a package of soiled linen care- lessly started on its way by mail for the laundry, perhaps, to at last iand on a shelf, unlaundered and unowned. A letter up- braiding a person who moved out of a house between two days, and signed ‘Your indig- nant landlord,” accompanies this package, and, as it tells a story of unpaid rent, it may solve the secret of its non-delivery. Another package contains the dried and shriveled hide and the long black linen thread-like hair of an indian scalp, which is accompanied by a photograph. It is a portrait of 4 very verdant looking young Man, with the boots, spurs, wide-rim hat, lariat, revolvers, &c., of the cow boy pic- turesquely disposed about his person, and it tells plainly of the arrival out on the plains of another tenderfoot. And there ure glass vessels holding liz- ards,! snakes and various anatomical ex- hibits in alcohol. One of the novelties of mailable matter is a two-burner gas stove, | \ sorts. They range in size from the tiny dimensions of a jeweler’s box holding the baby's finger ring to the hatter’s box and its old-style dicer. They are round, oval, oblong, tall and flat; long and short, thick and thin; they are well packed and loosely put together; some are wrapped in paper, others in cloth; some are tied, others are stitched, and still others are tied, stitched and glued. In this one are half a dozen patent gas burner tips and a scrub brush; here is a fish net and a couple of cheap spy glasses. Then comes a lot of toys—a mon- key on a stick, a rattle box and a teething ring. In another package {s a lady’s shop- ping bag, made of black silk, and inside of it Is a card inscribed: “Merry Christmas: from Marion.” Here is a package of val- entines, all of embossed flowers and Cupids im impossible colors. and then comes a no good are sold except at auction, and | and if hes still wondering why his friend | “With comps. of Red-Headed Hal., your old | country s growth in population,and with all | purpose and value of thei> complete names, | | moval on their part without giving notice | and another one is an onion fastened to a! bit of cardboard. The packages are of all | pasteboard box, holding half a dozen mi- croscopic mounts, And thus this official conglomeration tells its story daily, In paragraphs and sentences, mute, but most expressive, the stories of all kinds of people in all parts of the country. Locks of curly, golden hair, tied with baby blue, He by the side of a few silver threads of age, which are coiled upon a card of black—hints from each extreme of life. Here is a dried, hard and dark piece of wedding cake, a note from one measure in Hfe’s great and adjoining it, as its foll, is a box containing half a dozen rubber nipples. ‘Then comes a pair of baby shoes, and next @ pair of spectacles and a snuff-box. Sometimes Not Death but Suspended Animation. In brief, the story is almost endless in its incidents; an epitome of birth, of death, of joy, of grief, of poverty, of wealth, of all there 1s in fe, and yet *tls business, all business! Why? It is business because {t bears on each component part the seal of the gov- ernment, and because that seal announces, practically, “I have done the best I could for you, so far, but wait a while, something may turn up.” That is to say, when the United States government has utilized to | the last limit éts postal resources in an effort | to deliver a package or return it to the | sender, and when it has failed in the effort, jthen each package {s carefully examined , and inventoried. A record is made as to the ) post office at which it was mailed and the various steps taken to deliver it. Then it ts classified and numbered and placed away in its numerical position and in its |class. Thus any package may be immedi- ately found upon application. Even then, however, they are not considered hopelessly dead, because it quite frequently happens that such packages are restored to the per- son owning them. Every package 1s held in this morgue for at least two years, and packages of jewelry, manuscripts or other espectally valuable | articles are held as long as three years for possible identification. If, at last, they are | Rot claimed, then they go permanently into | | the universal hopper which carries them to the block of the auctioneer. Once each year, usually about the middle of December, the Post Office Department conducts an auction sale of the undeliverable goods. While this 4s done for the purpose of getting rid of | the accumulations and with a view to real- \izing something therefrom toward the cost | of doing the work, the auction serves also. |as a final opportunity for the appearance of claimants. Previous to each auction, a complete catalogue is published, giving the classification, the number and a list of the contents of each package. In this way many packages are reclaimed and in this way, also, intending purchasers may learn exactly as to the contents and approximate- ly as to the value of any package they may | j wish to buy. From the foregoing one may readily ap- prectate the enormous amount of labor per- | formed by the government—and paid for by taxpayers—each year in consequence of | the carelessness or indifference of those who use the mails; also that the postal au- thorities have absolutely no use for nick- names, pet names, abbreviations or jokes. It Wasn’t Green Goods. Speaking of jokes, an espectally good one upon the Post Office Department was re- vealed at the dead letter office the past week, and it is interesting as a revelation of the integrity, watchfulness and industry of postal employes in general. As is well known, lottery literature, the devices of “green goods” operators and saw-dust schemes are prohibited the use of the United States mails. There came to the dead letter office from as many postmasters in different parts of the country half a dozen small and neatly prepared packages. Each package was correctly and legibly ad- dressed, and each postmaster expressed the opinion, in forwarding the package, that the postal laws were being violated. The suspicions seemed well founded, and with visions of “green * revelations before them, Superintendent Bernard Goode and his assistants proceeded to open the pack- ages. The wraps had been carefully re- moved, revealing neat and well made little wooden boxes, when it was found that they were sealed. Then the seals were broken, and the boxes, as expected, were filled with saw-dust. One of the officers stuck one fin- ger into the saw-dust,and moving it around, observed: “That's all,just saw-dust." How- ever, each box was emptied and upon the bottom, carefully folded, was found a print- | ed circular. It was an advertisement of a| large, reputable and well-known establish- | ment, entirely legal and proper and decided- | ly novel as a device for securing attention | to an advertisement. Silently the postal | [employes refilled and repacked each box, | and they were returned to the respective | postmasters with orders to forward them as per addresses. ———-+ A Reformation. Reading from the Weekly Terror: And | | with a blood-curdling yell the savage sprang | upon the grizzly— | | { NOTED AUTOGRAPHS Furnished by the President and Others to the Public. GIVEN TO THOSE WHO ScLL THEM. Senatorial Signatures and the Prices That They Fetch. ALBUMS OF THE HOOSE. HE OBLIGATION to give autographs is @ part of the penal- ty which greataess inflicts. Mr. and Mrs. Cleveland both grant them freely to corres- Pondents who send respectful requests, inclosing stamps. Of course, they must draw the line sume- where, as the Presi- dent did ‘he cther iN eG day, when a woman wrote to ask for nine specimens of his sig- nature—one for each of her childrea. Mr. Cleveland’s autograph just after he Was first inaugurated was worth from $2 to = | $. It will still fetch $2, written on a card, while his signature and that of his wife on the same card represent a value of % in the market for this sort of curios. Gen. and Mrs. Harrison gave their signs manual generously to petitioners. Most of the Presidents have done the same. Much of the President's business consists - in signing his name, which must be actarh- ed to all appointments, commisstons, pro- motions, and a thousand and one other documents. So exacting is this part of his duty that he cannot perform the whole of it. One employe of the government gets $1,200 @ year for writing Mr. Cleveland's mame on land warrants. He does nothing else but that. There are other officials in Uncle Sam’s employ, by the way, who do nothiag else bracticaliy, but sign their own names. This is almost the sole duty of the register of the treasury, who is kept hard at work signing documents from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. every day. The assistant treasurer of the United States is another slave to his own signature, which he is perpetually eugeged in affixing to warrants for money. Messages to Congress. Mr. Cleveland’s messages to Congress are all written in autograph originally. He does all his writing with his own hani. S.ch documents he produces on foolscap with pen and ink, turning off sheet after sheet with scarcely a correction. An interpolation is rare in his manuscript. In this fashion his most finished speeches are evolved. The literary method pursued by President Harrison was wholly different. He found it very hard to write with a pen, and so he would keep by him a pad of paper and a soft lead pencil. With these he would jot down notes from time to time during leisure moments, and from the memoranda thus made he would afterward dictate to a stenographer. The messages sent to Con- gress are careful copies from the the orig- inals. Senator Edmunds, while presiding officer pro tem. of the upper house, refused to re- ceive a typewritten message from the Pres- ident. He claimed that the law required a “message in writing,” and that typescript was not writing in a proper sense. This ruling established a precedent which has been followed ever since. Nevertheless, the famous Chilean message was sent to Con- s8 in typescript by President Harrison. This was done because it was desirable to Save time, the document being anxiously awaited by the nation. Subsequently a written copy was substituted in the files. The same thing has been done on a few other occasions. Of course, the point in- volved is purely one of red A mes- Sage from the President goes to the public printer before it reaches Congress, and the clerk of the Senate reads it to that body not from the original, but from a certified print- ed copy. Gen. Harrison’s signature was always ex- actly the same, as if it were printed from d's autograph cramped, as if the work of eae Mrs. Cleveland's, on plate. Mr. Clevelan, small and is large, open and clear. Dan handwriting is beautiful, the best in the cabinet. Secretary J. Ster- ling Morton does not take his pen off the paper from the beginning to the end of his name. The signature of Attorney General | Olney is large and bert is dainty and old-fashioned, while ie Smith's is very plain and business- e. Pages Do a Good Business. The pages of the Senate add largely to thelr incomes by collecting autographs for all sorts of people who are victims to that hobby. The business is a well recognized industry at the Capitol. Persons with the | mania furnish blank albums to the bors, who gather the statesmen’s signatures by contract. The prices obtained for these memorabilia are surprisingly low. Five cents a name has been the quotation hith- erto, but, perhaps on account of the hard times, only 3 cents a name Is asked now. For $3 one can procure an album with the autographs of the enti nent man from New Y: day for the signatures of thirty members of the upper house, but that was a fancy price, The Senate and Supreme Court to- y be purchased for $5. Double Price is obtained for a book of photographs with the autographs written on the mar- gins of the portraits. Of course the buyer supplies the book and the likenesses. A complete album of the House of Repre- sentatives has never been secured, because some of the members are always absent. Collectors usually content themselves with the signatures of the best known men on both sides. Nearly all of the legislators for the nation are liberal with thelr autographs. Even the most dignified Senators are amiable enough in this respect. The pages say that the most difficult signature to get is that of Senator Coke of Texas. His name they can orii- narily secure only by means of some sub- terfuge. One method of theirs is to per- suade the sergeant-at-arms to offer the album to him with a statement to the effect that the request is made by some very im- portant personage. Senators Gorman and Hill, on the other hand, will write their names for anybody. Mr. Allison always insists on knowing for whom the autograph sign. ork paid $10 the other is intended before he will Queer Fads of Senators. Some of the Senators are queer about such things. Cockrell always writes his auto- graph in blue {ndelible ink, as if he did not vant his name to fade. Conger ‘would | Rever put his signature on the left-hand page of an album. Apparently he had some superstition on the subject. John Sherman invariably puts a dot in front of his name when it is intended for an autégraph. Per- | haps he does it for a reason somewhat simi. lar to that on account of which George of Mississippi insists upon signing at the top of the page. Senator George's notion Is to Prevent any dishonest person from using the signature fraudulently by writing an order for money over it. Leland Stanford employed the same precaution. The sort of fraud against which it is aimed has been practiced by servants of the House. One Senate page was caught steal- ing a while ago, though in a different man. ner; but that was a unique instance. Mr. Reed and Mr. Crisp are always ready to give their autographs. John A. Logan used to be very reluctant, but could usually be cajoled into granting the favor. Mr. Ed- munds’ autograph sold better on a card than that of any other member of the sena- torial body. In that shape it was worth $2. In one respect {t is most remarkabie, ina much as when looked at upside down it re- sembles a skeleton. One of the finest collections of auto- graphs of American statesmen is owned by Arthur Simmons, who is doorkeeper for Mr. Thurber at the White House. He was a slave before the war. After being libera- ted he wrote to Mr. Lincoln, offering his services. He was employed in the Union army and afterward in the Executive Mansion under President Johnson. He has) been there ever since, and for many years has been guarding the private secretary's portal. Acting in this capacity, his oppor-! tunities to meet great men have been un- surpassed. Few of them have been unwil- ling to give up their signatures as toll at the door. Col. Crook, the cashier of the White House, who has been there since heavy: that of Mr. Her- | ire Senate. A promi- | Lincoln's time, also has a most valuable autographic collection, including letters — nearly every President of the United es. The Typewriter in Letter Writing. The introduction of the typewriter is go- ing to have a serious effect on the auto- Sraph letter business. Statesmen of the Past, down to a period so recent as that of Roscoe Conkling, for example, wrote many episties with their own hands; now they dictate them to the machine. Such mis- sives, of course, have no individuality. They are not received in court as evidence on the same basis with handwriting. The question of courtesy, as to how far the typewriter should be employed in pri- vate correspondence, has not been settled satisfactorily. Charles Eliot Norton of Cambridge, Mass., who is a famous author- ity on ali matters which have to do with culture and propriety, will not deign to re- | ply to a@ letter in typescript. He carries his ideas in this direction so far that he will not confer upon any one a gift which is made by machine. A gift should always be something made by hand, he says, be- cause the hand is the “instrument of the soul.” The case may be recalled of the young lady who was content to receive typewritten love letters from her fiance, but drew the line when they showed signs of manifolding. But the line of conven- tion as to this subject in general has not been clearly drawn yet. Handwriting seemingly has a relation to geography. Cultured people in the neigh- borhood of Cambridge and Boston almost invariably affect the clear and print-like up-and-down style of penmanship. Exam. ples of this may be observed in the pen- work of Gov. Russell, Josiah Quincy and Edward Atkinson. In libraries, banks, in- surance offices and other establishments where written documents are kept on flie for reference the use of this method nowa- days is insisted on, simply because it is easier to read. Owing to this business re- quirement there is likely to be a revolu- tion in the system of penmanship taught in the schools. The day of the Spencerian script is drawing to a close. It is even possible to tell nowadays the age of @ person by his or her handwriting— at all events, to some extent. Certain fori of penmanship have come in during ‘he last two years and have been adopted by the younger generation, such as the “s” and “e” like the same letters in print. ‘They have the advantage of greater clear- ness over the “e” formed of a single loop and the old script “s.” As a rule only very elderly people any longer employ the that looks like an “f” without a cross mark. That is practically obsolete. Those Who Have the Hobby. Fortunes are invested in autographs by | persons who are afflicted with the hobby. | One can spend any amount of money on them, inasmuch as ne coilection can ever be complete. An autograph letter of John Adams, President and signer of the Decia- | ration of Independence, is now quoted in | the market at $20, Benedict Arnold is worth $15, Gen. Braddock $17.50, Abraham Lincoln $20, Horace Greeley $3, R. B. Hayes | $2.50, Patrick Henry $2, Washington Irv #6, John Ruskin $3 and Nicholas Biddle 50 | cents. All these quotations are for letters in the hendwriting of the person men- tioned. Munchausen, the famous story teller, is valued at $3. Other prices quoted are $1 for Oliver Wendell Holmes, $7.50 for the Empress Josephine, §1 for the Duke de Morny and $1.25 for Sir John Lub- bock. Edgar Fawcett will fetch only & cents. A bill made out by Andrew Johnson = he was a tailor in Tennessee costs Unattached signatures come comparative- ly cheap. For 15 cents one can buy such autographs of Richard Maustield, Levi P. | Morton, tor Milis or Justin McCarthy. Ten cents is all that is asked for ‘Thomas Nast, Daniel Manning, Dr. McCosh or Geo. Parsons Lathrop. But Gen. Robert will fetch $1 any tine. ————_+e+______ INTELLIGENCE OF MONKEYS. Am Instance Where the Animals Showed Almost Human Reasoning. From Labore Newspaper. It appears that a monkey plague has re- cently sprung up at Simla, India. Many years ago a padre dwelt at Simla, and the padre’s wife used to feed the mon- keys that haunted the place every morning. One day the patriarch of the lot whiled away his time waiting for his breakfast by throwing the contents of the padre’s dress- ing table through the open window down | the khud. The padre was a merciful man, so he only loaded a shotgun with the smail scarlet berries which the natives use for! bead work and gave the fleeing Hanuman the contents of one barrel as he was leap-| ing from tree to tree through the jungle. During breakfast not a vestige of a monkey was to be seen, and afterward the padre | went out, and his wife took up her accus- tomed seat in the veranda. Presently sh became aware of the noiseless arrival of a | deputation. Two fuli-grown monkeys were supporting their wounded patriarch up the veranda steps. Slowly the sad little group | approached the lady, and the two heipers piaced the wounded monkey in front ot her and then withdrew a little. With a look of saddest reproach the old | monkey placed his hands on his wounds, ) and then heid out the palm stained with | blood for the lady’s inspection, accompany- | ing the action with a most melancholy lit- tle moan. The padre’s wife was terribly upset with sympathy for the monkey, and | fear that they might revenge themselves on her. She had food brought and laid on the floor, but none of the three would touch it, but slowly and silently departed as they had come, the old monkey being assisted by the others with the most pathetic solict- tude over the various obstacles of the path. All day the food lay there for the benefit of | the crows and sparrows, but no other mon- key was seen, and for many days not one came near the house, until one morning, while breakfast was in progress, the whole band arrived headed by the old patriarch himself, recovered of his wounds, and most condescendingly oblivious of bygones. From that day the old friendly relations remained unimpaired, and the padre used to declare that, even if they threw the baby down the khud, he did not think his wife would let him shoot another monkey. Who, | then, is going to order the wholesale slaughter of the monkey-folks of Simla, es- | pectally when the Hindoos of the place will | So strongly obect to the blood of Hanuman defiling their bazaars? ——~eo—____.. TRICKING THE RAILROADS. A Successful Beat Cro: = the Coun- try Without Fare. A dispatch from Youngstown, Ohio, has the following: A traveling man passed | through Cleveland yesterday bound for New | York, having made a wager that he would | travel from San Francisco to the metrop- olis on first-class trains without paying a cent of fare. The scheme he worked was | as follows: At Toledo he watched a gentleman buy- ing a ticket for Cleveland, and as he left the window asked permission to look at It, which was granted. He then asked the fa- vor of putting nis initials on it, and this was acceded to. He watched the holder of the ticket step into a coach and took a seat in a rear one. When the conductor reached him he said: “You got my ticket in the other car.” The conductor told him he was mistaken and threatened to put him off the train. The traveling man said: “To prove to you that I am right, if you will look through your tickets you will find one from Toledo to Cleveland marked with my witials. The conductor found the ticket and apol- ogized to the traveling man, the latter re- fusing to accept it, and threatening to re- port him at Cleveland, which he was care- ful not to do. “I have worked that scheme all the way through from the Pacific slope, and I expect to be in New York tomorrow without hav- ing paid a cent of fare,” said the traveling man, as he boarded a train for New York. “Reginald Brophy, vez has axed me to become yer woife; I'm a wake woman—but | I must shtruggle wid my feelin’s;—I'm a widow. Look on those folve grave-shtones | in the lot yonder, and belaive me whin I tell yez that another husband's grave- added to thim wud be the death iv m President Garfield's farm at Mentor has been divided into building lots. | ‘ing | wil Written for The Evening Star. FINISHED IN STYLE. Artistic but Childish Costumes De- signed for Future Belles, On a quiet little street in New York chy an establishment devoted entirely to the interests of the small representatives of the 400. Here it is that all those dainty “simple” little gowns are made which are at once the envy and despair of the un- fortunate little women whose darling’s garments must be manufactured at home; often with more love than skill. As I entered the softly carpeted, dimly lighted reception hall a plump black haired Uttle French woman greeted me cordially, and, in answer to my inquiries, smilingly, little gowns, awaiting madam’s and finishing touch. As the maid out other garmen examined those on the farms, thinkh they might give suggestions to those less fortunate than myself, in being able to see them. The frst illustration shows a little house dress of sage green wool, everything of the same soft Yes, but charmingly The second inapection opened the cases and took ts, I carefully lk. The softest, flimsiest with two little lace petticoats waistband. Over these fell the ye 4 straight and full. One large puff the bodice, and two others the around the throat a ruffie and the sleeves were trimm way. A broad ribbon girdle drawn high on the left side and finished with and ends completed a toflet more suitable for a fairy than any one elise. of outing shapes. In observ yet every- thing had that unmistakable chie gwhich only the clever fingers of a French woman ei can ive. My attention was next called to a school of golden brown serge. It was made with a round yoke, overlaid with of narrow braid, several shades darker the dress. The full waist was drawn into @ belt of wide, dark braid, while the hem Of Brown Serge. of the plain skirt was turned the side and herring-boned with eilk. Under this was worn a brown flannel pet- ticoat stitched with red silk. costume was accompanied by un- derskirts to match. Svumetimes of silk, sometimes of Jace, but always one of flan- nel. ‘The most conventionally elaborate dress I saw was of black velvet, for a golden- hatred little mourner. The skirt was short and rather scant, with « sailor waist of China silk. The coat was loceely fitted box, fastened by smoked pearl buttons. A large black bat covered with feathers went i In Black Velvet. with the costume, and gave a cl finish to it. I had almost forgotten to de scribe the underskirts, an important feat« ure of the outfit. One of black China sil with a tiny ruffle of black lace, and one white flannel, stitched with black silk, In all these garments what struck me most forcibly was the perfect simplicity, and utter lack of ostentatious display of any kind One little gown that seemed to me as per- fect as anything could be, was of fine light gray cashmere, falling straight and full from a square yoke of black velvet. The hem of the dress turned up on the outside and wes headed with one row of narrow black braid. A guimpe of white China silk and a Tam O° Shanter of black velvet com- pleted the toilet By. K