Evening Star Newspaper, November 18, 1893, Page 19

—— THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D. ©. SATURDAY. NOVEMBER 18 1893—T WENTY PAGES. THANKSGIVING DAY. Pat Stories Told in the House Cloak Room. HOW THEY CELtBRATE THE DAY. Members Enjoy the Occasion Like Other Mortals. COL. BILL AND COL. DICK. Written for The Evening Star. FTER THE HEAT and bustle of a politi- cal campaign Thanks- giving dinners are in order. No one enjoys than Representatives in Congress. They re- call the days of their youth and bring many happy reminis- cences. Senators, Representatives, clerks, doorkeepers - and pages are here on fn equality. Family reunions are the order of the day. There is always a quorum at the table. There are lively discussions, but mo acrid ones. Everything gives way to the music of the knife and fork. The smok- ing turkey Itself and the tempting viands, to say nothing of other delicacies, if not Productive of eloquence, are incentives to good cheer. All cares and annoyances are forgotten. Pleasant reminiscences of past days are told, and each man lives in the Present without regard to the future. It may be interesting to know how mem- bers of Congress from various sections of the country enjoy their Thanksgiving. In fonversation with some of the genial mem- bers of the House in the cloak room, some valuable information was obtained. Repre- fentative Benton McMillin was peculiarly wing in describing Thanksgiving day in ennessee. He said that it is the most de- Mehtful of all days except Christmas. All business is suspended. In the mountains And in the valleys there are family reun- fons. Frequently friends are invited to the feast and there are happy and joyous times. Whe Tennesseeans mostly spend the day quietly and pleasantly at home, ending it With a feast, based upon the biggest, fattest ard finest turkey the barn-yard, the forest br the most convenient market can afford. * Phe greatest dinner that McMillin had ever enjoyed was at a log house, when he was a fallow youth, just retuned from a Ken- fucky university. A large turkey had been pecured. On the day before Thanksgiving had been carefully picked and drawn. t night, however, some appreciative farkey had thrown the family into conster- bation by abstracting the bird. The theft was discovered about 10 p. m. Meantime a terrific gale arose. It almost reached the fury of a tornado. The log house stood the t. The wooden shutters were closed tnd the howling wind outside made the log Wood fire dance as if in glee, sending a thower of sparks up the chimney. Suddenly there was a smash against the wooden Shutter outside: A blood-curdling sound Was heard. Securing a lantern, the head of the household went out and quickly return- td. He had in his hand two huge turkeys With bronzed legs and ruffled feathers. One Was a gobbler; the other a hen. They had been torn from their roosts in the moun- tains, born miles on the gale, and thrown against the rude cabin by the hand of Prov- flence to take the place of the turkey that the negro had abstracted. Providence had fade no mistake in this case, for the fam- Jy were good old-fashioned hard-shell Bap- fists. They returned thanks on the spot, ind on the following day enjoyed as fine a Thanksgiving dinner as was ever given in fennessee. siarcus Aurelius Smith, the entertaining felegate from Arizona, was questioned con- mang Thanksgiving festivais in that far- off territory. He said thnt they were differ- ant from most Thanksgivings in the east. As the territory was new there were very few grandchildren to grace Thanksgiving finners. The piece de resistance at the ta- ble was usually a gigantic wild turkey. Was always cooked on the old Kentucky or Virginia ‘plan. The side @ishes included Fenison and bear meat, if unybody wanted = A delicious dish was bear baws a la exicaine. Tenderfeet did not regard them with favor, because when brought upon the ike the feet of a negro 2 Nothing, nowever, was cre delicious, served with cactus or prick- pear sauce. They furnished a dish fit for le gods. Then the baked sweet potatoes spon the table were extremely savory. The fweet potatoes in Arizona, if Mark Smith to be believed, are sweeter and more ex- fuisite than those grown in any other part of the universe. He says they taste as though they had en raised by some Ken- tucky gentleman in the garden of Eden. Phere are frequent innovations in fomily Thanksgiving dinners in Arizona. Eeing bread and liberal in everything, they do fot allow their tastes to be hampered by fonventionalities. in some places, where they cannot eet champagne, they are re- luced to the necessity of drinking whisky. localities along the border mescal is a ibstitute for whisky. A few drinks of nesc2l make a man feel as though he had ix heads, twelve feet and twenty-four fands. Of all the people on the globe the Arizonians are the most hospitable. It uld well revay a stranger to visit the rritory on Thanksgiving day. He could fave a dinner without price or monet Wery hour in the day, with venison, ante- bpe steaks, bear meat, champagne, whisky mescal thrown in. ° In Old Kentuck. When Asher Caruth of Kentucky heard hhe talk about Thanksgiving a roseate flush Wwerspread his face. There was the joy of inticipation in his eye and his tongue be- fan to drip with eloquence. Of ali the din- ters in the south, he said, a Kentucky Thanksgiving feast was the best. It might tot be sreat as in New England, but the Kentucky dinner was the apiculated acme if bliss. The air was always cool and brac- Nz. The fire seemed to burn brighter than ® any cther states. The barn yard was fore musical, and the haying of the hounds made a refrain that filled the heart with Weasure. The music of the banjo was teard, and there were juba dances and Af- fican melodies that soothed the soul. Each bmily had its gathering; all enjoyed them- elves intensely. There was a good dinner, urkey of course, with cranberries and ali he jellies and gravies that Aunt Dinah fould prepare. Children and grandchildren et at the homes of parents and grandpar- the incidents of the past t was what old Aunt Chice would “vale clarin’ up time in family mat- table they looked li foasted and basted. e The new babies were chucked under he chin. J all the merits of the spring felts were canvassed. Troubles with ser- fants were detailed. Family matters gen- relly came under discussion, and _predic- fons were made as to winners at Lexin on, Latonia and other famous race courses fh the coming spring meeting. There was me well-known Kentucky lady, Mr. Caruth id, who was always present at every ksciving dinner in the state. t every dinner in the state?” repeated David B. Culberson of Texas in astonish- rent. “Yes,” replied? Mr. Caruth, “at every din- ter In the state. “Good heavens!” interrupted Mark Smith, ‘what's her name?" “Belle Nelsoa,” replied Mr. Caruth. these dinners more} The cloak room rang with merriment, but no one ventured an expianation. Ed Barrett of Augusta, a Representative of Georgia, was enthusiastic over Thanks- giving day in the great empire state of the south. He says that to see it in its prist- ine purity you must go to Hawkinsviile. There are great times in Waynesborough, Millen, Alpharetta and mountain towns like Dahlonega, but nothing in comparison with what occurs at Hawkinsville. In that town all the preachers, deacons and church mem- bers are greatly exercised. They guther in a body, like the Christian soidiers de- scribed by Bunyan in the Siege of Mansoul. If Satan himself was in command against them, their indignation could not be great- er. It is directed against what the Georg- jan calls a “gander pullin’.” This gander pullin’ gives more offense to them than the proposed fight between Mitchell and Corbett arouses in the souls of Brooklyn clergymen. The ungodly in Hawkinsviile chip in and buy the toughest ganders the country affords. They pick and thoroughly grease their necks and heads. They then adjourn to the outskirts of the town. The gander is hung to the limbs of a tree, sev- eral, if not more, feet above the ground, Those who participate in the pullin’ mount their horses some fifty yards away, and break for the tree at full speed, making a grab at the gander as they pass beneath him. The wary old bird keeps his eyes skinned. He fs as quick as a flash. No heron, frog-hunting, handles his head more deftly. Even if the rough rider grasps the gander’s neck, the grease favors the bird. This tournament is kept up unt!l some big- baaded citizen of Hawkinsville with an iron like grip fastens upon the Saader and drags it from the tree. Then another gan- der is strung up and the tournament is resumed. The Christian soldiers among the spectators view the scene with horror. Sam Jones and Sam Small preach about it occasionally, and even Bill Arp reprobates it. The whole country is aroused, but the indignation dies away and its embers are never again far.red into flame until Thanks- giving day again approaches. While Representative Barrett was talk- ing, old Bul Sterrett, the only genuine rep- resentative from Texas in the Capitol, lounged into the cloak room with a Bobby Burns cigar half way down his throat. He listened to Barrett with perfect noncha- lance. When the Georgian concluded, Ster- rett pulled the cigar out of his throat and said: AT kless Man. “Since the war, I do not know of any part of the south where there is a general observance of Thanksgiving day. I have never yet lived in a community that really felt sufficiently thankful for its condition to kill even a pullet, much less a turkey. This is on account of the tariff and other things which helped to build up the north. My first recollection of Thanksgiving was in Kentucky, during the war. We had as- sumed a position of neutrality. This was immediately followed by an invasion of both the north and the south. We got it both ways. Our minds were turned to other things than raising or roasting tur- keys, and we reaily had nothiag to be thankful for. Then after the war the build- ing up of wrecked homes and putting into cultivation places laid waste, cutting down briars in old fields and splitting rails for fences were surely not calculate] to make us feel thankful or joyful. After this was done, we were called upon to subscribe, in the way of taxes, for the building up of the northern section of the country, and paying pensions to the fellows who had burned our fences and destroyed our homes. This made us pay about three Umes what we ought to pay for the ordinary necosst- ties of life, and I did not see anything to be thankful for in this. I was thankful once, however; it was when we had a warm spell and the price of turkeys went down so that J was able to buy one.” What further Sterrett might have said no — Thanksgiving in Ken one can tell, as Col. Dick Bright of the Senate entered at this moment and seized the Texan's hat. It had the letters “R. J. B.” inside of it. Sterrett had entered Bright's room and carried off Bright's hat by mistake, leaving an oid cowboy affair in its place “It was a eky. perfectly natural mistake to make,” spoke Bill, as Bright returned him his hat. “There are two or three fish hooks cn the inside of your hat, colonel, and as I had been fishing lately with Tom Murray, with my usual luck, I assumed that the hat must be mine. I always carry my fish hooks in my hat, and my bait in my hip pocket.” There were other Thanksgiving stories re- lated. Congressman O'Neil of Boston had a sreat deal to say about the turkeys he rais- ed on his farm in that city. He says that no turkey has such a flavor as the turkeys that are fed on doughnuts and pork and beans exclusively, and are stuffed with oys- ters before roasting. Congressman Wilson of Washington took exception to this. The turkeys on Puget sound, he allowed, were far better. They lived on the ambergris coughed up by spe-m whales, which not only fattens them, tut gives them an exquisite flavor,which re- mains upon the tongue for days. Indeed, it has an effect similar to that produced by the eating of the papa botte upon Louisian- jans. Everybody in Washington deplores the fact that William C. Whitney fs not a mem- be> of the cabinet in Mr. Cleveland's second term. He sent a turkey each Thanksgiving day to the employes in all the departments, including those in the House and Senate. Not only this, but he allowed each one to go to the market and pick out his own turkey. On this Thanksgiving day the heart of every old employe will turn toward William C. Whitney as the needle in the compass turns toward the pole, and every- ene is wishing him, wherever he is, a joy- ous Thanksgiving. AMOS J. CUMMINGS. soo Very Reserved. From Puck. Mr. Lovett Willy; (an accepted suitor)—“Here, I want to ask you something on the quiet. When your sister was at the sea- shore this summer, did she keep the young men at a distance?” Willy—“You bet she did! Why, she'd take beac! ‘em ‘way, ‘way down ‘em there till meal-tim eee At a ministerial council held at the Palace of the Elysee in Paris yesterday it was decided to prosecute the anarchist paper Pere Peinard for extolling the bomb throwers who caused the explosion last week In the opera house at Barcelona that resulted in the death of thirty persons. h, and keep The Blossom of November and Its Early History. THE JAPANESE NATIONAL FLOWER, Only Seventy Years of Cultivation * Among Western Nations. AN ENDLESS VARIETY. EVENTY YEARS ago, my darling, sev- enty years ago”— American —chrysan- themum enthusiasts might just now par- aphrase ‘Tennyson, as they gaze on their favorite in the full tide of its beauty, for it is just seventy years since it was introduced into this country; and that it is a floral darling is everybody but Chas. @ fact undisputed by Dudley Warner, who Says that it always reminds him of a curtain tassel, and that so seeing it he is incapacitated from enter- ing Into the popular enthusiasm about it. Tt is to be feared that Mr. Warner at the chrysanthemum show, where this do- mestic resemblance forced itself upon him, allowed himself to be made the victim of the first simile that oceurred to him, though it is quite likely he may have one chrysanthemum that looked curtain tassel, he would also, had he not been prejudiced by a single idea as he wended his way among the various speci- mens, have beheld others that resembled many other things under the sun besides that useful appendage to a window shade; for that the chrysanthemum is to the world of blossoms what the mocking bird is to the world of birds no one can gainsay who has viewed with unbiased gaze any of the annual exhibitions of this flower. Its Mimetic Quality. This mimetic quality is, of course, seen more clearly in the specimens owned by professional growers, for the same reason that the peculiarities of any object are more apparent under a magnifier—the plants designed for exhibition by florists being pruned early in the season, with the end that the few buds allowed to remain develop into the most enormous flowers, so that when one wanders through such a collection one can almost imagine oneself lost in a single blossom, and can quite en- ter into the feelings of a bumble bee in a clover head. Plenty of them, too, are as full quilled as clover heads, while at the same time being as large as oranges. But a clover head and a cu-tain tassel are by no means the only things simulated. At a local florist's the other day a feminine gazer in a fifteen minute stroll through that chrysanthemum paradise confessed to being successively reminded of a pond lily, a La France rose, an ostrich plume, an old-fashioned zinnia fom her grand- mother’s garden, the golden apples of the Hesperides (she had read the classics), and even of a lamp mat, and she went on to explain that much as she despised the genus tidy and lamp mat in general this particular shell pink floral specimen of that senseless ilk, eight inches across, and so delectably fluffy, she fain would have possessed herself of and carried home as an ornament to he: parlor. The chrysanthemum was quite plainly born for victory, for in spite of being handi- capped in flower lore by the melancholy signification of slighted love, it yet remains the flower of flowers wherewith to deck No- vember bridals, and so in the very face of floral dictionaries has come to mean in- stead triumphant love. Pecullarity of Its Scent. Then, again, its scent, which is like noth- ing so much as a brew of herbs, is an ex- emplification of the old proverb that it is an ill wind that blows nobody good, for it blew the chrysanthemum itself into notice. Not that this autumn beauty would have always remained in the background had it Rot been for this quality, for the “golden flower” by no mgans partakes of the mod- esty and retirement of the much praised violet; but that its triumphs would have been some years deferred but for its pw gent scent is a matter of history, for it was this, and this alone, which two hundred years ago attracted the attention of occi- dental tourists in Japan to it, who promptly carried it home to the west with them, under the impression that anything which smelled so bad must be very good indeed to make into medicine—their hopes in this line receiving encouragement from the fact that the compositae, fhe immense family to which the chrysanthemum be- longs, does include in it some herbs of heal- ing. Its importers’ expectations were of course dashed to earth, but this transplantation proved the opportunity of the chrysanthe- mum's life, it reaching Europe at a most propitious moment, just at the time, indeed, when the fad for tulips was turning all Holland daft and creating a taste for flori- culture that resulted, first, in the produc- tion of the gorgeous varieties of tulips, later in the exquisitely colored and scented ever-blooming roses, and, lastly, in the roy- al chrysanthemum of today. For this latter, like tulips and roses, is essentially a florist’s flower, that is, a flower which through the intervention of man has been made to take on forms and colors widely different from its original types, since when the chrysanthemum was first introduced into Europe from Japan double specimens were rarely seen, while the size and color ®f the blossoms of today were things totally undreamed of. National Flower of Japan The Japanese loved it, though, even as it was, single and unheraldedfand had elected it their national flower, a single flowered variety containing only sixteen petals, hav- ing besides been chosen as the imperial or governmental crest, a selection by which they have abode to this day. Then, too, as if to quite insure a place of permanence in the regard of the inhabitants of this Asiatic empire, what should fate do but send their ruler into existence in the very month of its blooming, so that now its appearance on the scene is the signal for @ gala time for the entire nation. With all this prepossession in {ts favor it is not to be wondered that Japan can boast the most unique chrysanthemum show .on the face of the planet. It takes place annually at Dango-Zaka, a suburb of Tokio, where preparations are made for it months in advance, even before the plants have begun to bud. Skeleton frames representing people, ani- mals, mountains and nature generally are arranged on a little stage inside a tent, so as to portray scenes from legend, history and even the latest plays. Inside these frames chrysanthemum roots are now placed, the blossoms only being pulled through to the outsidé, so that the struc- ture, when completed, has the effect of be- ing a solid mass of flowers. Thus one can see a whole drama done in chrysanthemums—chrysanthemum men and women engrossed in the various happenings incident to humanity, while in the back- ground are chrysanthemum mountains, down whose sides dash chrysanthemum tor- rents, that widen out into chrysanthemum rivers. Within the last few years, too, the phonograph has been called into requisition to enhance the illusion. Every one attends this show, and for the time that it continues the single street of this little Japanese village is thronged with admiring visitors. ‘A duplication of the same sort of thing has been attempted on a limited scale at the world’s fair chrysanthemum show, but we of the Occident are yet too young in our acquaintance with the flower to win from it the full pliancy that can its long-time lover, the Japanese. Its First Cultivation in France, It was not until 1820, indeed, that its cul- tivation began in earnest among western nations; France then, as now, a leader in floriculture, about that time taking ‘:t up, and so successful was she that rumors of her chrysanthemum glories reached even the ears of such seemingly prosaic mortals as Long Island sailors, who thus inspired, forthwith gathered seeds of the famous plant on their very next voyage to China, sowed them over their domains on their re- turn home, where now, it is said, in old for seen like a CHRYSANTHEMUMS, | gardens of that place, can be seen descend- ants of those first American importations of the flower. America's next impetus to chrysanthe- mum culture came from London, which, In 1860, inaugurated its annual exhibition’ of this flower in Temple and Inner Temple gardens, a proceeding which it has kept up ever since, these gardens where the flowers are planted in beds and borders with little tents of muslin arranged to stratch over them nights to ward off the frost, being, indeed, one of the November attractions of the world’s greatest city. Apparently endless as its varieties are, it is some comfort to know that despite appearances, the chrysanthemum can really be divided into three distinct sorts; the pompons, tiny round blossoms, three-quar- ters of an inch in diameter, and most ap- Propriately named, since they look like nothing so much as a rosette or pompon; the Chinese, comprising the large globular thickly petaled flowers, four or five inches in diameter, and, lastly, the loose, fluffy Japanese, six inches or more across. The members of this last family are probably the most popular, and in fact, these present such an almost infinite va- riety in their form and coloring that the floral critic who could not find herein some- thing to his taste would be carping indeed, Aid by the Flower Itself. New shades and shapes in these, as in other flowers, are made by securing veed produced by crossing 4ifereat varieties, or rather, that is the man-mae wav of aeiting a new chrysanthemum, for the chrysanthe- mum itself now and then lends a litle as- sistance, and sends up a shoot whose Hos- soms prove to be quite distinct from those of the parent stalk that bore it,—as if the plant, too, were ambi:tous jor the ag; dizement of its race, and was going to aid as much as possible the floriculturists’ effort in its behalf. This, though, fs an oceurrence which cannot be predict2d, or brought about indeed, in any way but ‘by the plant itse'f. It usually takes place in white varieties after they have been cultivated for some years, and the variations vroduced by them are generally either pink or yellow. Cuttings taken from these upstart shoots will root and become individual chrysan- themums, adding another to the list of va- rieties, already running into the thousands. They bad to travel over land and sea to reach us, and even then to grow into their real beauty after they were fairly with us. They lack the delicate fragrance which makes us at the very first sight fall in love with even a faded rose, and they have none of the charm of sum- mer to surround and beautify-them, as a becoming robe enhances the loveliness of a woman. They have a name that is so mouth-filling that many people drop one or two syllables in their efforts to pronounce it, and, in consequence, go about babbling ecstatically of “chrysanthums.” (Let us keep it a profound secret that their full name is chrysanthemum carinatum lest even more of its joints run the risk of being lost.) But, nevertheless, they fill a large place in our hearts, and, perhaps, upon sec- ond thought, their tremendous and com- plicated name only bespeaks their gentle blood, since all members of noble families are similarly afflicted by a multiplicity of titles, while even their bleak November en- vironment might, if one were in an optimis- tic mood, suggest this lesson of hope in connection with Chrysanthemum. But yesterday a fire of red and gold Flamed through the woods, kindled by Autumn’s hand. Now dead its embers lie. Yet watch! A breath blows over the ashes cold, And lo! with tint and fashion manifold, Burst the chrysanthemum’s bright flames. So why, Sad heart, despond? Do these not prophesy That thy life’s embers, too, cannot withhold The flame of joy that yet is smoldering there? E’en summer stars must set before The brighter orbs that shine tn wintry air Can rise. Life turns, not ends, as soon de- plore The frosts ‘neath which the summer's life succumbs That brings the sweet forms ¢£ chrysanthe- mums. pee ere oo nee eee GETTING OUT MAHOGANY. Money in the Business, With Hard and Dangerous Work. From the New Orleans Picayune. Mr. H. Sci der of Nicaragua is stop- ping at the Hotel Royal. The gentleman is an extensive exporter of mahogany from the country, where he has resided for the past few years, and where he has amassed @ competence in shipping that particular and valuable wood. Mahogany is a very valuable wood, but is hard to get out of the forests where it grows,” he said to a reporter last night. “However, it pays if one goes at it right, and knows how to manage the business. ‘The way we go about the work of getting out mahogany logs is, first, to get a con- cession from the Nicaraguan government. You must ‘stand in,’ as they say in the United States, If you get a concession, but an enterprising citizen from any country can go there and establish himself in the favor of the officials, and if he has a gvuod record at home as a man able to tend to business they grant him a privilege. But that is only the beginning of the trouble one has in cutting and exporting the wood. You then proceed to make bargains with the natives to cut and haul logs out of the forests. If you treat them kindly they will work for you for a time at the least. The best Indian labor costs about fifty cents per day. It is often hard, however, to get them to work, as they live on fruits, and can sustain themselves without labor of any trying kind. Half of the year is called the rainy season, and it runs from May to October. It is then so wet that one finds it impossible to get out any timber, and no one will work for you during the wet sea- son. When the dry season opens we com- mence operations, and if we can get enough labor we succeed, but we have to be careful with them, as they become easily misled and often think we are taking some advantage of them. When they become con- vinced that something is wrong, whether they have cause to believe that such is the case or not, they get angry, and the feel- ing spreads among all the tribes. The woods are so dense and the work so try- ing on men brought there from other coun- tries that they cannot stand it, and there is no profit in paying them what they re- quire to risk their lives among the snakes and in the swamps where the mahogany grows. When the timber is cut we haul it, one log at a time, on a two-wheeled ox- cart especially made for the purpose. It is a very slow process, but it is the only prac- ticable way to get the timber out. There are 400 and 500 logs to the acre, and the price of the wood is so high partly because the timber is so hard to obtain.” “What is the price of mahogany?” “The average price of a good mahogany log {s $75. I sell very few logs in the United States, and my principal market {s in France. There I ship practically all my timber. The price is better in France, and the money is paid as soon as the logs ar- rive in port. There are not as many for- tunes in mahogany as some people imagine, as the wood is too difficult to draw from the tangled forests of Nicaragua.’ -When a man from the north goes to Nicaragua he stands the climate very well for a year, and is very energetic, and wonders at the spirit of laziness that prevails among all the people. But after awhile he is over- come by the climatic conditions and gets lazy and is unable to work three good hours a day—if he don’t die in the meantime. The mahogany business is very pretty to talk about and very nice in theory, and even in price, but a great deal of the fancy profit that apparently accrues on logs is lost in the time and expense one is required to un- dergo to get the logs out and carry them to the ships.” ——_+ e+ __. A Penal Offense. From the Detroit Free Press, The girl had a lovely complexion, but, sad to relate, it was mostly from the drug- store. One day a stranger in town met her on the street and right away he rushed to an acquaintance. “By Jove,” he exclaimed, “I passed a com- Plexion on the street just now that was simply perfect.” The acquaintance had seen the young wo- man. “Hist,” he said nervously, “don’t talk so loud. The stranger gasped. You've committed a penal offense.” “How do you mean? What have I done?” “You've passed a counterfeit,” and the acquaintance thought he was a great fakir. Corroborative Evidence. From Puck. ‘Tom—There were a dozen men at the din- rer last night, and every one of them got drunk, except the man who told me about it. Dick—And who was he? Tom—Oh, I-heard it from each one of them. WORK AND WORRY. Advice From Leading Men and Women on the Subject. IDEAS ON. DIET AND EXERCISE. The Best Rule of All is Not to Worry. BRAIN FOODS AND WORK. OW SHALL WE keep our intelectual health? How shall we avoid worry? What 1s your cure for insorania? What weuld you advise a ferson who is overburdened with work und worry to do to make the most of himself? I have a number of opinioas on this sub- ject froin famous people away from Washington. One of the best is from Neal Dow, who now, though nearly ninety years of age, carries on an active intellectual life. I give his letter in full, It reads: PORTLAND, Me., Sept. 12, 1893. Dear Sir: You ask me for my secret for intellectual health and prevention of worry. There is no secret about it, xcept “don’t worry.” Let what may come, bear it philo- sophically and don’t worry. Worrying won’t help it. Help it if you caa--f not don’t worry! There is ten times as much suffer- ing from misfortunes anticipaced that never come than from those which overtake us. Don’t worry; submit quietly to the inevit- able. As to my habits of work, I ain always busy with books or pen or exercise. 1 do not over-fatigue myself with booksthat re- quire great concentration. When the mind begins to flag 1 take a lighter book. I do rot write to weariness. I take a walk or a drive or an amusing book. I jose no time. Yes, I can throw my work off when I leave it and wish to do so; but often when tired by the pen I lay it aside for a walk, and on the tramp block out what I a‘icr- ward put upon paper, or into a speech which 1 am engaged to make. You ask as to ifsomnia. I sleep weil— though often in bed I lay out ihe plan ofa speech or of what I am engaged in writing, but when the time comes (or sleep L throw off all that, which I do by wrin: ig back to mind vividly some pleasant scene of winch I have met many in my travels at home and abroad. As to advice for brain workers, I would say one should not permit himself to be overworked, because the und will sooner come when there’s no more of it. Do not overeat. Be careful to avoid that; take nothing a second time that the digestive machinery does not kindly accept. Let con- science, reason, common sense and Lnowl- edge, that every intelligent per: have, and not fashion or custom, co us in all matters relating io what's or wrong ;to what is best for us personiily and as to one’s duty socially—and in relation in life, so that our influence, ever it may be in morals, in poli: ics und what not, shall be always on the side of right and never on any pretext or pretense on the side of wrong. A Word From Jennie June. Women are naturally more nervous than men, and the women workers of the United States are increasing so fast that a word from the oldest of them will be read with interest. Jennie June Croly is one of the first women writers of the Unit- ed States. For thirty-eight years she hau been attached to the editorial staff of news- Papers and magazines. During this time she has taken care of a sick husband, had six children and made a competency. Dur- ing all these years she has never failed to keep an engagement and has never been out of the office more than two weeks at a time. She is the originator of synai newspaper work in the United State: ber letters have been read more widely perhaps than those of any other woman writer for a newspaper. I give her letter verbatim: NEW YORK, N.Y., Sept. 11, 1893. My Dear Sir: I think I have worked in the face of as many obstacles as usually fail to the lot of women. Large family, small means; a husband who never saw an entirely well day, and was an invalid for twelve years of his later life. Add to these an imperfect equipment, which must be constantly supplemented by special endeav- or, and short sight, which made the ac- quisition of material for newspaper work extremely difficult at times, and you have what have proved the more or hard conditions under which I have had. to work for thirty-five years or more. If 1 have conquered these with any success it is because I loved my work, and was always thankful for it. I never felt afraid of any. thing but losing it. It was the source of my independence, of comfort for my chil- dren, of communication with the world of thought and activity, in which alone there is satisfaction. Personally I found it neces- sary to be very regular ana very temperate, To get all the fresh air and all the walk- ing exercise possible. I always sleep with open windows, summer and winter. I take a cold bath every morning, and I wear wool, thin in summer and warmer in win- ter, over the surface of the body. I du not eat candy or ice cream, and I drink as little ice water as possible.” My di- gestion has always been weak and difficult, and I keep the digestive apparatus at as even a temperature as possible. At the same time I have few fads about eating or drinking. I have little liking for anything except fruit, and prefer to eat meat only once a day and then in small quantities, I eat whole meal or what is called “Health Food” bread. The great sins against ourselves are hur- ry, worry and dissatistaction. They prey upon and destroy the peace of our lives. The secret of content is to eliminate the source of our discontent. We shall gener- ally find that it lies in our own selves. In our fears, our vanity, our suspicions, ou> Jealousies, our unworthy or unnecessary desires. We take ourselves too seriously— the rest of the world and our relation to it, not seriously enough. The one qualification for success above all others is steadfastness. It never fails of its fruit. One of my greatest regrets now is that never in all my life have I cultivated sleep enough. I have not averaged six hours out of the twenty-four, and I know that it would have been better if it had been seven or eight. Anxiety is the foe of sleep: so is irregularity, bad air, eating at night and continuous brain work before retiring. Happy, tranquil evenings and fresh air are best friends of sleep. JENNIE JUNE. Edward Everett Hale. I have just received a letter from Edward Everett Hale giving me several references for opinions of his upon this sub- ject. He says in one of them: “The business of health for a literary man seems to me to depend largely upon sleep. That means the brain should not be excited or even worked hard for six hours before bed time. The evening occupa- tion should be light and pleasant, as music, a novel, reading aloud; conversation, the theater or watching the stars from the pi- agza. Of course different men make and need different rules. I take nine hours for sleep and do not object to ten. I think three hours is enough daily desk work for a@ man of letters. I dislike early rising as much as any man, nor do I believe that there is any moral merit in it, as the chil- dren's books pretend. But to secure an un- broken hour or even less I like to be at my desk before breakfast, as long before as possible. I have a cup of coffee and a biscuit brought me there, and in the thirty to sixty minutes which follow, before breakfast, I like to start the work of the da; T believe in breakfast very thoroughly and in having a good breakfast I have lived in Paris a month at a time and detest the French practice of substituting for break- fast a cup of coffee, with or without an egg. There is no harm in spending an hour at breakfast. After breakfast do not go back to work for an hour. Walk out in the garden, Ne on your back on the sofa and Tread. In general, “loaf” for an hour and then bid the servants keep out everybody who rings the bell, and work steadily until your day’s stent is done. Stick to your stent until it is done. When you have finished, stop. Do not be tempted to go on because you feel in good spirits for Work. There is no use in making ready to be tired tomorrow. You may go out of doors now; you may read: you may in whatever way get light and life for the next day. Indeed, if you will remember that the first necessity for literary work is knew, A Magazine Raitor. A prominent business man who uses a Sreat deal of Edward Everett Hale's work is Mr. John Brisben Walker, editor of the Cosmopolitan Magazine. He has seen all sorts of ups and downs in business specu- lation and literature. He made a fortune in Denver and he promises to make an- other in the Cosmopolitan Magazine. He ts @ man perhaps forty-five years of age. He is @ man of brain, push and intellectual vitality and words that he writes are worth printing, though he does not seem to think the questions I have propounded by any means easy to answer. He says: My Dear Sir: You are a modern Ponce de Leon in search of the fountain of per- petual youth. You ask a busy man how he avoids worry. He is like yourself seeking the clue to this secret and will doubtless some day have his body covered over by a Mississipp! of care and anxiety and the secret be still a secret. Yet there are two or three things worth knowing. One is to aid digestion by plenty of out door exercise, walks brisk enough to bring out the pers- piration. Another is never to worry at the result after you have done your best. These two will bring sound sleep and so next day’s labor becomes a pleasure. If you obtain the true solution to your problem please send it to me. urs sincerely, = JOHN BRISBEN WALKER. Old Statesmen on Intellectual Health. Judge Holman tells me that the secret of his good mental condition is in a good diet and sleep. He believes in hard work, and says, “More men are killed by shirk- ing their work than by doing it.” He takes a cold bath every morning, and says he loses a great deal of intellectual vigor whenever he misses it. Gov. Curtin once told me that he thought his intellectual health came from his care in his diet. co said he could go all day without eating and not notice it. Henry B. Payne, the famous Ohio ex-Senator, told me that he owed his good mind to the fact that he was temperate in all things, and also to his habit of walking long distances every day. He believes that more men are killed by intemperance in work than by intemper- ance in drinking, and is an active advocate of short hours and long rest. Cassius M. Clay once told me that he could never get along on less than nine hours’ sleep, and that he did not believe that a man should be waked in the morning. He believes that a good mental condition can only be kept by daily exercise in open air and by cold baths. It was the same with a number of old men whom I interviewed. Of these men there were about a dozen famous oc- togenarians, and without exception they at- tributed their good mental condition to open air exercise, frequent bathing and moderate drinking. 1 knew George Ban- croft well during the later years of his life. He took a ride every day almost up to the @ay of his death. He attributed his long life to his exercise and temperance. Erastus Wiman on Intellee i Health Among my letters from prominent brain workers is one from Erastus Wiman. He is, you know, a self-made man and has cer- tainly had his share of ups and downs. His pen just at the present time is more in- teresting than when he was at the top of the swim as a Wall street millionaire. His letter reads: I wish I could give a recipe for intellec- tual health and freedom from worry. Worry and work ought not to be harnessed togeth- er so constantly as they are, but they travel in pairs to a far greater degree than is de- sirable. Intellectual work and worry make old men of the best and brightest of our race and I fear will do so to the end of the chapter. Working at night is to me the worst thing that can happen. When darkness comes all nature seems to be at rest and I don’t believe it pays to labor after dark. In the morn before dawn darkness may be made available, but after the exhaustion of the day intellectual work is burning the candle at the other end. In answer to your question as to my habits of work I beg to say that from 5 to Tin the morning are my best working hours for reading and writing, and that the rest of the day is given to business, with a total cessation of work ahd worry at night. Sleep is the best as you suggest and many aman can sleep at 9 to 9:30 till 3 or 4 a. m. that can’t sleep from 11:30 or 12:30 to 7 a. m. My pull on good health and vigor of body and mind is in the ability to drop asleep at the plebelan hour of 9 o'clock. A snooze in the middle of the day after lunch on the ferry boat or in the train is the best of tonics in the middle of the day. A Word From W. D. Howells. W. D. Howells is one of the most con- scientious workers in the United States as well as one of the most regular. I once asked him us to his manner of working and why he did not buy any books except those on money making. He replied, “I can an- swer that question best by quoting from one of the Italian poets, who says, ‘Our work of making books is all in vain, if books in turn do nothing to make men.’” At this time Mr. Howells told me that he did all of his intellectual work in the morn- ing and that he arose about 7 o'clock, had breakfast at 8 and then worked until lunch time, He believed that he did his best work on a good American breakfast and he thought it stood him better than the Eu- Topean custom of taking only coffee and rolls. In the letter which I have received from him concerning the above customs, he says that the best recipe for intellectual health is a clear conscience. He deprecates his ability to throw aside his work hen he leaves it. He says he nearly always sleeps well and that his advice to persons over- burdened with work and worry is temper- ance and exercise. How Mrs. Frank Leslie Works. Perhaps the most successful business woman in the United States is Mrs. Frank Leslie. Her history is known to all. How she was left by her husband with Frank Leslie's newspaper, and a load of debts. How she borrowed $50,00 to carry on the business and built it up until it brought her an income of more-than $100,000 a year. Everyone knows how she added to the cs- tablishment a dozen or half dozen other celebrated publications, and how today, though one of the richest women in the United States, she works on unaffected by the worries of a fortune and a big busi- ness. She has for years been ground be- tween the upper and nether mill stones of work and worry, and is today as fresh almost as when she brought her brains into the literary hopper. She writes as follows: Without physical health, intellectual health is an impossibility. Brilliant work has oftentimes been done on nerve force and by strong will power, but to insure sus- tained and continuous good work Physical health is an absolute necessity. Anxiety of mind is always increased, and is fre- quently engendered even by bad health and imperfect circulation. Attention to the rules of hygiene then is unquestionably t first requisite for intellectual health and the prevention of over exaggerated worry. Such are a few of the recipes of our most noted people for healthy brains. I have suggestions from others, which I may give in the future. FRANK G. CARPENTER. ————eee. A Smoker's Fallacy. From the Pittsburg Dispatch. A great many smokers consider that lit- tle light specks on the wrapper of a cigar irdicate a good article. Very few know how those specks get there. If on a hot day, when the sun has been beating down on the tobacco plants, a sudden thunder shower should come up and sprinkle the leaves with the immense drops of rain so common in Cuba, and it should then sud- denly clear up, the sun coming out strong again, then the drops of water on the jeaves act as lenses to concentrate the sun’s rays, which burn the ttle specks upon the tobacco. The tobacco must be ripe in «oder that the sun may give this effect. On ac- count of the greet selling quality of thi sort of wrapper, these spots are made on the cheaper brands by chemical means. ‘Lock picking.” —Life. ready to be connected with the public sew- ers in the street. The government post office is one of the most insanitary buildings in the city, The old system of plumbing and drainage has never been changed since the building erected. The plumbing fixtures are with- out proper water supply and there is no ventilation. There is no means of carry- leries of the dead letter office, become pale and sickly in appearance from breathing the vitiated air arising from below. The patent office is equally unw! and the condition of the government print- sometime ago to put the plumbing fixtures of the government print ing office in good Sanitary condition and a system of plumb- ing and drainage was put in there which, if properly cared for and kept clean, would have given comfort and security to the oc- cupants of the building. But the fixtures were allowed to become filthy and the wooden and cement floors so saturated with impurities as to affect the a! of the whole building, and today it is the foul- y t buila- ing in Washington, due to insuffictent ap- propriation to pay for necessary supervi- tion for this long line of sew: erage, there is no circulation of air through the system, the inner Surface of these pipes have more light und air, rapid exit of waste made to the outside of the building. Some of the wash-out closets, absence of soil pipe extensions is the a eral rule with all the work in the fing and wherever an att has been made afford proper local ventilation it has proved inefficient. The stationary wash basins in the several rooms have mechanical under them and no ventilation. This is simply an abomination, and should not be tolerated. The fixtures in the basement are all badly constructed, and the exits in the floors for carrying off waste water and wa- ter from the heating apparatus are not Ppro- tected by suitable traps, but have simply the old fashioned surface or bell trap.which is two-thirds of the time unsealed. Of course the air is passing up openings from i fous government buildings at night be enforced as a sanitary measure. It should be the duty of the itendent of the building to have every window rais- ed as soon as the clerks vacate the and the building allowed to remain open hours to thoroughly purify the air in rooms. Soon after the clerks leave building the windows are closed for night, and remain so until morning, the occupants return to their duties ing the same vitiated air, or that ‘was more foul than they left at night. coo English Drunkards, From the St. Louis Star-Sayjngs. The British parliament has before it the i steal ii the Criminal Lunatic Asylum. Under an act passed in 1879 there were established some retreats or reformatories for the treatment and cure of drunkards who chose to go to them voluntarily. This committee finds that a considerable portion of the drunk- ards who enter these reformatories are mend that parliament give magistrates the Power to send these dipsomaniacs to these retreats for a period not exceeding two years. This commitment may be made on peti- tion of the relatives of the inebriates or at the discretion of the mag.strate, and it sub- jects the to a rigorous discipline and close confineme::t if necessary. A drunkard may still be admitted to these re- treats on his own petition, but once in he must stay there until discharged as cured. He may select his own retreat, whether: sentenced or going voluntarily there, and such property as he has would be Mable for his and his family’s maintenante during his confinement. The poorer classes are to be provided for out of the public treasury or in public asylums. The semi-criminal class of habitual drunkards with whom the police have to deal are to be subject to an indeterminate sentence, which shall be not less than a year, upon their third conviction for drunk- enness or neglect of their families. It is also proposed to give the police in the large towns and cities the power to arrest with- out @ warrant all persons found drunk on the public streets or in public places, and lock them up until they can be tried before @ magistrate. These last suggestions of the committee are regarded as bold and almost revolution- ary, for the right of the Briton to be drunk on the streets has been regarded as an in- alienable one. Public sentiment is said, however, to approve the recom of this committee, which are based on the legislation in force in several of our states, and they are likely to be enacted y the commons, and probably by the jords is0. —-o+___ At the Populist Picnic. Col. Windbagger (the orator of the day)— And, ladies and gentlemen, I further charge the Shylocks and Gold-bugs of New York with having deliberately Alkali Ike (in the audience)—Whoop! Hi- yip! hi-yah! Sock it to ‘em, Kernel! Hoo- raw! Col. (to the chairman)—Can- not that man be either silenced or removed? This is the fifth time he has interrupted me with his yells. He is inebriated, and ought to be ren in charge by an officer. Chalrman—You are mistaken. He cheers, but does not inebriate. That is Alkali Ike, the committee on applause. <areninerenesebiipnenmoestnentins A fat man’s dinzer has just taken place at Grenoble, France, and the undertaking has been so successful as to warrant the resolution to make ‘t a yearly imstituvton. All the fat men of the world were invited on condition that they did not weigh less than 220 pounds.