Evening Star Newspaper, November 25, 1893, Page 18

THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGT( Jan IN ? D. C., SATURDAY. NOVEMBFR 25, 1893-TWENTY PAGES. SOME HIRSUTE VAGARIES. FRENCH COIFFEURS. ae How They Cali Out “Next” in a Paris Shop. THE ART OF TRIMMING HAIR. A Delicate Touch That Gives Individuality. TRICKS OF THE TRADE. recial Correspondence of The Evening Star. PARIS, November 7, 1893. HE FIRST MARK of the Paris barber is his plate-glass win- dow. Two sides are occupied by tiers of shelves with rows of bottles,which contain specifics. They are all there, from the sim- ple “Eau tonique,” composed, vaguely, of “tonic substances and fortifiant to the Quinine Legrand. Quinine @he nerves, which are alive; therefore it is ood for the hair, which is dead. This qui- fine prevents the hair discoloring. When in connection with a certain pomade, | " it ob-| falled “Baume tonique de Tannin, marvelous results, “ nd the most in- © Damala. ®ontestable.” The Quinine Legrand, when fused alone, has the precious quality of *causing to disappear that mud in the hair ‘which is produced by the use of pomades.” Wherefore, first clog up your hair with the mud of the Baume tonique, then wash it but with the Elixir Legrand. These ranks of bottles are but figurantes, Wke the back rows in a ballet. The front row of the Paris barber's window to the right and left is taken up with wigs, and the full center of the stage is given to the Btar, the lady made of wax. If the shop be a pretentious one there will be three o even four such demoiselles: a Sy Bnf girl, with golden earring gold band around her blue-h furves so smooth and low ck hair, that a blonde young enre Leitner. @ebutante, with fluffy locks, and eyes that match her sky-blue bodice; and a matron, @impled and cheeks, who « her long brown lash more There is a reason for this wax eternal feminine. All Paris barbers are Coiffeurs des Dames. It is in the doing up of ladi hair they pride themselves, and not the aving of men’s chins. The latter is sur peas to be too easy, and to leave too little i the those arts Barber to the 5 trained nurse, 2 lift up the an or the e no existence in this is good for | with crimson | | too great for | | | capital. When he has you, the Paris barber leaves you, smeared with soap, to walk across the room and wash your face yourself. When you return and take your seat, he combs your hair. His chair is cheap and clumsy and it has no comfort. He keeps his razors sharp and that is With these razors he will dash around your cheek and jowl with one sole object—that is, to get the hair off. He will not cut you—and he will not please you. When you sit down to have your hair cut he will offer no suggestion If you are chic enough to have a style, if he can your hair is always kept in order, then all will go well. If it is plain that you have finished shaving sre Caran D'Ache. given no great thought to the arrangement of your hair, he will be polite enough to follow you, and give no thought to it him- self. Set the same man to work upon lady’s head and you will see him trans formed. He ma not have had a female client for two mont h may be half al year behind prevailing s, which, in the | change eter ly. But he| He will consult th - explain, put up, rn, pat, smooth, car No trouble is long. And wax-work | this is why yo lady in the Pa protest of his round of b: raise enthu: Come to him t th A Frenchman, QP his bonne tenue, will cho one and shade it down until it hits hi of beauty, and there let shading down of thing like indivi cordant eclectici r self upon aality, will dis- m lose for you the e Montaubry. barber's on; and with his adlmira- tion goes all hope of careful service On this side of the water ¢ upid peasants hi an instinctive for unity in style. They cannot,tell you why an is admirable, but t at a glance, if it be have air cut short and brus! stiff on end is admirable; but to carry a head of hair around the city in connect with a lank and dropping mustache in the style of Ouida’s languid guardsman would be to turn the back upen eterna! fitness. Thus, at the start, one thing is certain; a French- man looks upon his head as one grand whole. The hair, the beard and the mus- tache are one. They must not only be in harmony with each other; their general ef- fect must aiso be along the line of some In France all men are types. They not be at all carefully barbered; the are slovenly and careles all telling. But, whether by instinc And in the sk be unity of pure but yet pure Gothic. h bears the name of Dama- la comes from that actor. one time Sarah Bernhardt’s husband. It persuades you that its wearer is debo hearted, a go and beard lik tion of half thi tors in Paris. fferent architectural effects may sd from the me elements will be declared by thre amples, The first is a young man all brosse. What > has not in beard he makes up on the , a mass of hair gummed back from nd standing straight up like a well-cut lawn. Thi r surface is not flat, but forms the segment of a circle bounded on each side by a precipitous cliff of hair above the ears. The mustache (still curled up) is a mere Cupid's bow, or liks ntious, open- air like a brush h is the descrip- artists and sculp- | to show you how the | how the flourish of the pen you make beneath your signature. It is a fleshly style, and not in the best taste. The second is a fiercer type, although the elements remain the same. The brushed up hairs, as represented in the initial, stand like the quills pertaining to the fretful por- cupine; the mustache bristles like a hundred spears in battle. He is transformed into an energetic and a conquering bravo. If these proud hairs in flerce disorder possessed the faculty which the tails of dogs have, of lowering themselves at the approach of danger, you would see them at the critical moment falling piteousiy. At ordinary times, however, this coiffure has one unique advantage. No one will crowd you in cafes and restaurants, or on the street; no one will wish to ruffle or stir up such an arro- gant and disagreeable-looking fellow. The third example is a gentleman again. The hair is still en brosse, but slightly curled—this curling takes a deal of time and care—the mustache is still turned up, but only indicates an amiable gayety. And the pointed beard is short and modest. This is the style called Leitner. For a young man who seeks to mingle dignity with chicness nothing can be more appropriate. At the present day in Paris men’s hair is either worn well pushed back en brosse, without a part, or combed across the head and parted at the side. Both partless bang and center parting plastered in neat curves are in decline. Two brothers here, Ameri- cans and bankers, very chic and able, if they wish, to make their own styles, cling still to the plastered hair of other days, which parts exactly in the middle, then to form a florid scallop at each side. But it is a rococo style and quite against the spirit of the times. The plastered part is daily waning. You will see it still affected by a dainty type of elegant, who bears a fragile pointed beard, itself a work of art, urve is horizontal. | | but here are the gs it behind own to the the points on lock, making Then ide of t ing half Make a slight swelling between the ear and the line, keeping the hollow part of the! fron beneath. The iron must not be too nor the : » much visible. a with a comb by a slight > all the points the fashion. with th part mustache, he points comb. 1 hair but ty the air lies. 1 did wit, whose pict have the aimost unique quauty of being always ent and moral, for which rea- sor. they are greaily 1 in families, It is an unpreienuing requiring little care and troubic, Th » musi stay | curled rout D hrenchmen do not count iron is universal. hitue alcohol iamp, the little and st 3 Justable looking Klass screwed to the win- the constant tools of With ub they And even face but on every themselves home. Wao aves not wasi hi: Week will put the for a little coup de ier. uontaubry style is much more dash- beautity the man It ma. b seen ike om the great of the high world and on the billiard markers at t Grand Cat The great unhappiness of all these franker and more honest siyle they may t ted by the vul The true exclusivent comes with the beard. it is true that an adventurer or any independent other no- y wear a pointed beard, but clerks yes may not, because it looks ambitious and beyond their station and so might breed in their employers’ minds. but takes up the great beard, the beard of millionaires and princes Without Ulle, must surely be a rogue dis- guised. the style of Houssa. ble. It at once give of the et the stillness of a d per soul which complacently in its ns, knowing well how surely they must shine out in the figure of its earthly casement. What in this Ho: ye beard would m but commonplace (or even goat-like) in an ordinary man has with its arer I know not what sublimity Trite wildne: seems the profundity s, the daring of a luxuriant fact is that in spite of those littie curly rudiz, mentary 3), you see through all the traces of original thought; there is a ntemplative grandeur in this type which to have nothing borrowed in its meaning or its dress. The plate, with ex planations for the barber, comes at cin- quante centime | In the style of Ferrier there are military | prongs and reminiscnces of the third em-| pire. likes to look old-fas 3 self-assertion, It is not the present milita s ially | for young men. The military style is rep- resented by the clippers. The hair is cut short to stubbishness, without a part, but always neat and compact. In the army they are forced to be ‘like well-groomed horses. The army type for young men is the brushed up hair and short beardiess mustache, short like a bulldog’s short-cut tail, and well set back and haughty, with| the pride of princip These are the mc t modern modes of | wearing hair in Pa A hundred eccen- | tricities and ancient favorites dispute their| vogue, but these are a la mode, some old, | some new. There is a style of chin that as two threatening horns of hair curved down to match the sharp nes of a horned mustache cur up. There is a humorous little half beard that sends out two curving ends to meet with the mus- ache and frame the mouth as in a hairy P cirele. There are lank, lugubrious mus- aches curving downward, as if not with design but lassitude, and flanked by lank side whiskers and long hopeless-looking locks t i, that hang above the collar. But we only time for one type more, who, until a better name be found, must be called the good ole hioned curled hair Parisian. He is the most ical of all Parisians and the tru he exists in numbers. The ¢ curled-hair Parisian makes no effort to keep up with the prevailing style in dress, in manners, amusements or of thought. He was a Parisian and a lady killer twenty years ago and he 1a jot in| anything. He keeps the same shaped hat, | the ies, the same hair oil, the same perfumes, me button-hole’ bou- quet and the same coiffure. Such a Paris- fan car slender black varnished cane with a lady's foot and ankle carved in ivory for a handle. He uses a cigar holder | made of 7 rd_and a goose quill. He dines, prix fixe, on Sundays in the Passage | Jouffroy. He is round faced, good natured, | vain, explosive in conversation and he 1s rn It sakes that he curls his hair. STERLING HEILIG. is for thetr COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY A Difficult Problem That May Soon Be Solved. TO REPRODUCE WATER COLORS. The Failure of Attempts Made in the Past. PICTURING A RAINBOW. Written for The Evening Star. MERICAN INVEN- tors are tarning their attention to © photo- gtaphing in colors. New ideas from them looking in that direc- tion are flowing into the patent office. The i atts, problem has long a, been the ignis fatuus of investigators in \ the mysterious and f seductive field of op- xe tics. Today the most eminent ‘experts in this line all over the world are trying to solve it. That the object atmed at will be accomplished before very long there can be no reasonable doubt. In fact, the thing has been done already, only that the processes require perfecting. Photographs of the solar spectrum, show- ing all the brilliant hues of the rainbow, have been made, possessing the long-sought quality of permarenck. This is accomplish- ed in a way devised by a member of the National Academy of France. From a scientific point of view his process is the most interesting ever invented. He lays upon a sheet of glass a very delicate, trans- lucent film of chloride of silver, and against the film he places a vessel containing mer- cury, So that the latter is in contact with the film. The glass sheet and mercury thus arrang- ed are placed in the camera like an ordina- ry sensitive plate. Exposure being made, the image of the object to be photographed is projected upon the glass. The light con- veying the image passes through the glass, cn though the translucent film, and is re- flected back by the mercury behind. The action of the light splits the silver in the film into thin layers, which break up the light rays into their component colors. It is weil known that the play of colors in an opal ure due io the fact that this gem is composed of layers of quartz super- Fosed one upon anothe:. ‘These layers break up the light into various hues. The same effect is accomplished by the layers of silver in the film, which through the opera- tion of a curious law reproduce the tints of the object photographed. In this way the brilliant coloration of gorgeous pazrots has been copied by the camera,and sun pictures made in thi y are permanent, In a sense this process may be said to have solved the problem referred to; but it 3 defective in that long exposure of the plate is required—that is to say, from five ninutes to half an hour. But, in order to overcome this difficulty, it is merely neces- that the film shall be sensitive to light. The ble for a long time interfered wit ulness of the daguerreotype meth fifty years ago, which could not be uti jor portrait because aa exposure of several hours necessary, and nobody could keep still so long. Results of Previous Photography in colors is no new thing. In the eariy days of that art daguerreo- types weve oc ally produced in colors, though it was wholiy acciden ‘The man- rer in which this was accomplished long remained a mystery, but it is now supposed that the phenomenon was due to contamina- tion of the silver surface of the copper plate by the copper beneath. It has been found that chloride of silver with chloride of cop- per wiil reproduce colozs to some extent. But the colors in these old pictures quickly faded. About the year 1854, Becquerel and Niepce St. Victor produced photographs in colors, using ordinary daguerreotype plates, which they subjected to aborate treatment for the purpose, incidentally baking them for | a long Ume in an oven. Lut the tints re-/ fused to sta nd no process could be dis- covered for ‘rendering them permanent They would fade and disappear in a few minutes on being exposed to daylight. The plates which they prepared exhibited one peculiarity quite remarkable from a techni- cal standpoint. ‘They would _ reproduce white lights as well as colors, whereas, or- dinarily speaking, plates that are sensitive to colored lights are not sensitive to white lights. After prolonged and laborious ex. periments, Messrs. St. Vietor and Becquerel abandoned their effort as hopeless. evertheless, there can be no doubt that first rate portraits in colors will eventually be made, superreding perhaps the work of i Such likenesses will e very different from the dead things in black and white, which are the best that artists of the camera produce today. They will reproduce the tints of the complexion, the brightness of the and all those de- tails of varied hues which are of life itself. One difficulty to be yet overcome in this matter will relate to the intensification of color effected in photographing a human e down to what is called “cabinet” size. You can see what this means by looking through a camera at a person sitting for his or her portrait. This would be particu- larly objectionable from the point of view of an individual afflicted with a red nose. Eventually great paintings will be copied imperishably with the camera. Though time must destroy the originals, the photo- graphic replicas will remain through cen- turies, being susceptible of indefinite mul- tiplication, Perchance they will take the place of the ‘omos” of today, and dou! less the same methods will be utilized for making the sun himself do landscapes in the twinkling of an eye, with all the tints of nature duly guaranteed as correct by the celestial artist, himself the author of all color effects. In the rainbow photographed by the French academician referred to, black bands at either end stand for what are now known as the “ultra red” and “infra violet.” These are really bands of colors— hues unknown to and indistinguishable b; the human eve. Yet Prof. Langley says that to them are largely due the exquisite beauty of the rose and other flowers. By “rainbow” here is meant the image of the solar spectrum produced by passing a sun's ray through a prism. The ultra red is to the left of the red end, while the infra violet is to the right of the violet end, the length of the spectrum being thus ad- ded to in both directiorfs. By an instrument of his own invention Prof. Langley has traced this rainbow for more than twice its visible length. Not one-half of it, as his experiments show, is perceptible to the eye. His contrivance—a thin film of iron through which a current of electricity is passed—is moved along over the spectrum, the interruption of the current. register- ing the heat of the hidden rays and thus declaring their existence. Photography in Colors, Application has been recently entered at Washington for a patent on a process for printing sun pictures in colors—the in- vention of a New York photographer. By means of a camera, it reproduces water- color paintings with such perfection that the counterfeits can hardly be distinguished from the originals. The method employed involved the use of tinted glass screens, and three negatives are required for each picture. The negatives are made on glass in the ordinary fashion, except that a_ tinted screen and what is termed a “grating” is interposed between the camera and the ob- ject. The grating is a sheet of glass with parallel lines scratched upon it, the purpose of it being to give the picture the effect of a line drawing. Three screens are used— one for red, another for blue, and the third for yellow. First, the photograph is taken in the man- ner described, with a glass screen inter- posed which permits only the yellow rays of light to pass through it from the object to the camera. Thus no impression what- ever is made on the negative except by the yellow parts of the water color to be repro- duced, for example. Then another negative is made in the same way, with a screen that shuts out all but the blue rays; and, finally, a third, which takes only the reds. Now the photographer has three glass ' rendered more , was | negatives—one reproducing the reds of the Waver color, aholuer tne Dives ana the thira tae yelows. #’Timts are Made lrom twese on bichromauzea geizune, and Ifom te prints, by tne process commomiy used im pnoto- engraving, meta: cuts are produced. Une cu, being inked with red ink and appied to a sheet of biank paper, puts on au tne reds required for the picture; another cut adds the blues, and the thiru cut contrib- utes the yellows. ‘the white lines made by the “grating” are almost microscopically fine, ana do not show, except on close scrutiny with a mag- nitying glass. In each ot the three cuts they run at a different angle, So that in the final picture they cross each other in a patch-work pattern. Where one color is printed over another it forms a combina- tion with it. Thus blue and yellow make green, and the primary colors—yellow, red and blue—produce in this way every grada- ton of tint. The effect is wonderful. In fact, the reproduction of a water color painting obtained in this fashion is perfect aimost beyond belief. it gives ail the brightness 4.1 delicacy of the original, with even the peculiar and characteristic ‘“‘wash” effect. But the process is applicable in all sorts of other ways. It will copy with me- chanical faithfulness and vivid hues the in- tricate pattern of a Turkish rug. Land- scapes from nature will be rendered by it before long, the inventor claims, and per- haps even portraits eventually. Another American has perfected a pro- cess of photographic printing in colors some- what similar to that devised by the New York photographer above mentioned,though | modified in its application. He, too, uti- lizes the glass screens for red, blue and yei- low lights; but he prints the colors sepa- rately upon translucent films—the reds on one film, the blues on a second and the yel- low on a third. Then he superposes the films one upon another, and places them together between two sheets of glass. To the eye, looking at the light through the glasses thus joined, with the films between them, all the original effects of colors and color combinations are reproduced. Thus the appearance of thin slices of rock and chemical crystallizations, as observed under the microscope with polarized light, is most beautifully preserved. In quite a different manner these films are employed to produce extraordinary effects. Pictures—to fllustrate lectures, for example— are projected upon a screen by means of*a magic lantern with three lenses. The ar- rangement is such that behind one lens is the yellow film, behind another the blue, and behind the third the red. By a simple me- chanical device all three lenses are made to focus so that a single image is cast upon the white sheet, the colors combining and pro- ducing most gorgeous and realistic effects. Color photography will be a great help in the work of making photo-micrographs of sections of rock. This business engages a good deal of attention at the office of the geological survey in Washington. The ob- ject of it is to find out the mineral elements of which various rocks are composed. For this purpose a small piece of rock is ground down until it is a transparent film so thin that one can read through it. It is then put into a photographic apparatus, an important part of which is a microscope. | The instrument is so arranged that a ray of light passes through a prism of Iceland | spar, which has the property of “polariz- |ing” light. The ray passes on through the film of rock, which is stuck upon a sheet | of glass, and beyond through the micro- H scope, the other end of which is fitted into a |camera. Thus a very much magnified im- | age of the rock section is thrown upon the | Sensitive plate inside the camera, and an | enormously enlarged picture of it is made. The picture is merely in black and white, but the image produced on the ground glass at the back of the camera is in all sorts | of beautiful colors, each mineral element of | Which the rock is composed being made | by the refracting effect of the polarized light to take on a bue of its own, so that , even the least bit of ordinary cobblestone is a patchwork of lovely tints. As it is, the photograph has to be tinted with water colors, copied after the image on the ground | glass; but, if the colors could be directly | reproduced, the object would be obtained | Most simply and with a superior perfection. | | Professional photographers, as a rule, take little interest in color photography. They care for nothing that is speculative, being concerned merely with the business of the present. That is the reason why so- called amateurs have already got far past them in the purely artistic developments of | the craft. | soe—____ A FOUR POOTED WARRIOR. The Brave Dog Who Went With the Brigede Into Battle. | From the Atlantic Monthly. The deepening ager grew tragically in- |tense, for there was nothing to be done | except to stay and corfront it. At last, to the manifest relief of the long, long line, the orders were to advance, and as we stepped forward somewhat blithely, we | noticed, moving directly in front of us, a |little more rapidly than ourselves, a small body of glittering cavalry escorting a group of gorgeously appointed staff officers. We also noticed that they had a most en- thusiastic companion. A large dog, with | shaggy, jet black curly hair and most musi- cal voice, followed the cavaleade closely, | barking sonorously, as though he felt his to be akin to that of the bugler. | His superb waving tail moved high in air |in rythmic cadence with the marching men who were behind him, rather than in time to the clattering hoofs and chaos of sound |our own situagion did not prevent us from wondering how the noble beast had man- fate if he remained. We could not learn, even, whether he belonged to any of those who were actors in the fearful drama before us; but presumably this was the case, for there was that in his movements betoken- | ing a dog who felt himself to be at home, jrather than the vagrant canine who had run away whither he had no business to go. Still on and on, as the brigade advanced, went the delighted dog, occasionally rais. ing his head yet higher, as if for the pur- pose of throwing his voice farther, while his ever-swaying tail responded to the ca- denced step of the dear dog’s fellow coun- trymen. How he loved the scene! I have often been charmed with the delight shown by dogs when there is dancing or other frolic going on; their emotional nature | fairly reveling in movement of any kind. The least sociable dog is always ready for a run or a romp with the least con ‘ial | companion, and there is no being to whom |the infection of gayety is so generously contagious. All through the desolate two hours oc- cupied by this engagement, the first of the war, our friend still pursued his de- lighted tactics—an example of glowing fear- le. “Why,” exclaimed a soldier, “he’s better than a brass band to keep our spirits up!" We were all young then, the group ‘veying that ecstatic deg, and much nearer to college and classic phraseology than most of us have ever been since, and so when a recent graduate cried: “Well done, Gaudia Certaminis!”’ the refrain was taken up by all who could translate it and by a great many who could not, and Gaudia Certaminis the dog remained throughout his martial career. Later on, as one by one the various regi- menis were drawn off from a field now deemed impracticable, we could see our handsome friend holding his ground among the very last, until, in the deepening twi- light, he was observed striding majesti- cally after his cavalry escort, as we now called it, on their way to the rear. Ah, then that swaying tail, which an hour before had moved in joyous unison with the soldiery, had failen to a discontented level as the poor dog bewilderedly retraced his footsteps, following whatever master among the glittering staff might lay claim to his powess and his fidelity. All the succeeding right we were kept awake by the fierce whistle of trains bear- ing what we only too well knew were re- inforcements from Richmond. When at last, at daybreak, we stood on that vast plateau, where we were to see by far the greatest battle yet fought on this con- tinent, we instinctively looked for our four- footed comrade, Gaudia, for somehow we were well assured that he must be with us, taking his share of peril, as beseemed a noble knight. At dark of that day of monstrous calam- ity the warring hosts had separated, and for some reason which will never be known, the legions of the north were in full re- treat, having been victorious all through the day. Terrified teamsters, homesick militiamen, panic-stricken mules and strag- glers of every sort had started the stam- pede at the rear long before the fighting in our front had ceased. The German re- serves stationed at Centerville, five miles behind us, were in full retreat an hour previous to the last charge of the seventy- ninth highlanders. As our discouraged, despairing soldiery staggered in retreat toward the stone bridges, walking as though wading through seas of clotted blood, one of the last scenes that fell upon our disturbed vision, on passing through Centerville, was that of our dear Gaudia returning from the field with a small red rill of blood trickling from his neck. He probably did not live to go much farther, and, associated as he was in our minds with the army when advancing, it seemed to us well if he did not live to witness that retreat which brought mourning into nearly every house in the land. which preceded him. The awful peril of | aged to get there, and what would be his | SUPPLIES FOR SHIPS. How Uncle Sam’s Men-of-War Are Equipped. cmc IT COSTS A MINT OF MONEY. Housekeeping is Done Under a Rigid System. A SMALL ARMY OF MEN. Written for The Evening Star. URNITURE AND supplies for Uncle Sam's new war ves- sels cost a mint of money. To fit out one of these ships for a cruise is a bigger job than equipping a first-class hotel. Here is a floating fortress, as long as two city blocks. with all mod- ern conveniences and complete restaurant facilities.. lighted throughout by electricity—a gigantic fight- ing machine and military barracks com- bined. Her steel walls, bristling with guns, shelter a small army of men. The New York, for example, has a crew numbering 455, besides 40 marines and 44 officers. To feed them all for a twelvemonth, at the government's rate of allowance, costs $60,000, On going into commission such a ship must be furnished throughout from the kitchen, which is as complete as that of a great city hostelry, to the captain's cabin. She carries large stocks of stationery, hard- ware and apothecaries’ goods, and is pro- vided with tools for all sorts of trades. Everything conceivable that may be needed for purposes of war and peace ig suppiied, because on the high seas no shops or fac- tories are accessible. Usually the vessel is provisioned for only three months, because there is no room to stow more. The rations are purchased by the Navy Department and comprise such necessaries as hard bread, cornmeal, oatmeal, hominy, flour, salt pork, beans, peas, rice, preserved meats, butter, coffee and tea. Every man in the navy, from the last boy shipped up to the admiral. has an allowance of 30 cents a day for rations, which he may draw either in food or in money. The pay- master of the ship has charge of all the provisions, which are dealt out by his “yeo- man,” who is in turn assisted by the Jack o’ Dust. The person last named attends to jopening the barrels and packages. Coffee |and sugar are served out once in ten days, flour every four days, and meats daily. While in port fresh provisions are furnished, each man ceceiving one pound of fresh bread, one and one-quarter pounds of fresh meat and one pound of fresh vegetables per diem. These take the place of the ordi- nary ration, only tea and coffee being pro- vided in addition. The allowance is at all times so liberal that the enlisted men can- not possibly consume the whole of it; so they take part of it in cash. which they utilize in ways presently to be described. Keeping House on Board Ship. The methods of housekeeping on board of a ship of war are very interesting. All of the officers and men are divided up into lit- tle clubs, each of which has its cook and manages its own affairs. These clubs are called “messes.” There is the captain's mess, the wardroom mess, the junior of- ficers’ mess, the warrant officers’ mess, the petty officers’ mess and the men’s messes. Every officers’ mess has a caterer, who is elected periodically from its own member- ship. Members are compelled by the naval regulations to serve in this capacity when called on, though no one can be obliged to hold the place more than two consecutive montns. It is a post of responsibility, the incumbent having to direct the purchase of provisions, to keep accounts and to pay all bills. Some men like the task and may re- tain it for a long time together if the mess is pleased. The captain, because there is only one of him, must cater for himself. He messes by himself in his cabin and eats in lonely state, save when he chooses to invite officers to dine with him. If the vessel is a flagship |he may mess with the admiral or not, just as he chooses. The admiral has his own cabin, of course. The captain has his own steward, his private cook and two cabin | boys. The admiral has a like staff of ser- vants, with perhaps an extra boy. It must be understood that the “boy: on a war vessel are enlisted men at least twenty-one years old. The wardroom mess has its own cook and steward. On the New York it comprises twenty officers and has six boys in addition. ‘The juniors’ mess on the same vessel—em- |bracing ensigns, midshipmen, etc.—has a | cook, steward and four boy The warrant | officers’ mess is composed of the sailmaker, gunner, carpenter and boatswain; it has a cook, steward and one boy. The same provision of service is made for the master- at-arms’ mess, including the petty officers jof the first-class, namely, the master-at- arms, quartermaster, and apothecary. The messes of the warrant officers and petty officers above mentioned are conducted just like those of the higher officers, drawing their rations in the shape of money and buying their own provender. The men are divided up into messes of twelve usually. Each such club elects its own caterer and chooses one of its members j for cook, with the approval of the execu- tive officer. The most important require- ment for this culinary post is ability to make bread. Good breadmakers are in great demand for such positions on board ship. The mess cook receives from the mess wages equal to the money equivalent of from one to two rations monthly—that is to say, from $9.30 to $18.60 a month. This salary is so much in addition to his pay from the government and renders the office very desirable. The incumbent draws the rations from the paymaster and prepares them for the table. But, because the al- lowaace is greater than is needed, he takes only eight rations in food and the remain- ing four in money. The cash thus obtained goes to form what ts called the mess fund to which each man usually adds about $2 monthly. The mess fund pays the cook and provides all sorts of luxuries, such as sweets, condensed milk and many other good things that can be purchased when in rt. P The messes are organizations of military character. All of them are under the di- rection of the executive officer of the ship. That personage, always the senior line offi- cer on board, presides at the ward rm mess; the other members of that eating club occupy places at the table in the order of their rank. Line officers sit on the star- board side and staff officers on the port side. But the caterer pro tem. sits fcot of the table. Though in ordinar: ters informal, strict etiquette governs all essentials in the mess. The executive offi- cer has authority to put a stop to any dis- pute or offensive conversation. In the Wardroom. A description of the management of the wardroom mess will serve, with few modi- fications, for the officers’ messes. The ca- terer buys the provisions. He gets them on shore when the ship is in port. Except when compelled to do 80, he does not ‘purchase from the vessel's stores, but draws the ra- tions from the mess in cash. However, he does usually obtain from the paymaster what he needs in the way of cooking but- ter, cooking sugar, rice, beans, pork and canned meats, paying for them in money. because these articles, as dispensed by Uncle Sam, are just as good of their kind as can be got and are furnished at about cost. Members of the mess pay their bills monthly to the caterer. The cost of board to each officer in the wardroom is usually about $30 a month. It is somewhat less on the Asiatic station, the markets in that part of the world being cheaper. There is a balance left over in the caterer’s hands, which goes to make up the mess fund. This fund in the wardroom will sometimes amount to as much as $1,000. It provides for the replenishment of crockery, for en- tertaining by the mess while in port and for all sorts of unusual expenses. Every man in the navy, from the admiral down to the jack ’o dust, must supply his own bei clothes and mess furniture, such as crockery, etc. To each officer a mat- tress and pillow are allowed, and to each sailor a hammock. Until recently the & ernment has furnished nothing in the wa} of table ware, excent for the captain, Ww?) is provided with enough things of the kind paymaster’s yeoman | to set up a good-sized household, includl @ dozen of everything. Within the last 4 months, however, all silver-plated ware re- Quired for the wardroom has been allowed by the bureau of equipment. To start @ Wardroom mess requires an investment of $50 to $75 for each officer. At the end of @ cruise all of the china, linen, ete., is sold for what it will bring—usually about 10 per te} the original cost. The proceeds are ; among the officers w: roperty. i ho owned the is us in an officers’ m estab- lish what is termed a vine — “hor this it is necessary to obtain the captain's per- mission. It is « joint stock company, the purpose of which ts to furnish drinkables. For example, there are twenty gentlemen in the wardroom mess of the New York. they clect a wine caterer, bottled goods and sells them at cost, with a small percen cover breakage and loss. on more than one occasion to wipe out a wine mess. not belong to the wine ordinarily to purchase caterer at prices 10 per cent above the regu- lar rates. Only wines and malt liguors are allowed to be served. No spirits are permit- ted on board, except in the medicine chest. Officers, however, @o commonly have = small private stock of whisky or brandy, and the infringement of the regulations this regard is winked at. But a sailor whi sSmuggles intoxicants into the ship is able to thirty days in durance vile on bread and waier, The Ca ry Department. The kitchen of a ship of war is under the direction of the si ip's cook, whose func- tions are like those of a chef in a reat hotel. He is an important man in his way and his responsibilities are great. The culinary department is on a considerable Scale. In addition to the ordinary ship's kitchen or galley, the New York has three ranges—one for the admiral, another for the captain, and a third for the wardroom mess. In the galley all the cooking is done for the other officers and for the men. The various mess-cooks serve merely as assistants, They prepare the meats, soups, breads, etc. for the fire, and the ship's cook does the to the officers tage added to A gale of wind has been known ~~ Those who do ess are permitted wine from the wine boxes from the room, © paymaster’s store: Such refuse, are sold by the executive aint cer, the proceeds going to make up what is called the “slush fund.” This money prow vides reading matter for the crew, extra music for the band, é&c. The slush or greace formerly to be a berg ship's cook, and the added inrgne to his pay; ery allow is_a symptom of imperfect 3 The Namernay have been struck by the servants required ship of war. It should be captained “shat their menial functions are only a minor part of their business, They all have mill- tary duty to perform, forming a portion of the fighting force of the floating fortress, They take part in drills and bear arms in the infantry battalion. Every man on of such a vessel is a fighter and has Station for that purpose. The cooks even the paymaster’s clerk are fighting men. In drills, which imitate martial ac- The cylinders being wa’ der will not suffer any injury. fired with a six-pounder rapid. ally. Blank charges, om 5 5 F H maximum, is President Cleve- jand. The next highest honor in that way is seventeen guns, accorded to an admiral. ‘Twenty-one rounds is the national salute, fired to celebrate Independence Day or oth- er such occasions. Salutes cost about 7% cents a shot. books. It contains no novels. Washing for the officers is done ashore when practicable; otherwise by the boys, who are glad to make a little extra money in this way. In every respect the housekeeping on board of such a vessel is perfection. Absolute cleanliness and @eatness are insisted on. All the water “used on board is distilled from sea water by special apparatus pro- vided for the purpose. Such apparatus is furnished even on sailing vessels in the navy, So that supplies of water from the shore or from rain are no longer on. Among the hospital stores of the ship, for the use of the sick, such luxuries are kept in stock as cocoa, extract of beef, extract of clams, chicken soup, mutton broth, brandy, whisky, wine, port an@ sherry. When a new ship is about to go into com- mission a book is made up at the Navy Department in Washington, containing lists of all the articles of every kind with which she is to be furnished, even to the food, Such of these things as have to be manu- factured are ordered from the navy yards | where they can be mace most conveniently and are forwarded to the yard where the vessel lies. Finally, the book is sent to the commandant of that yard, with orders to have ready everything specified in it. It is handed over to the genera! storekeeper of the yard, who has charge of all stores of every description. ly there is now $10,000,000 worth of stores and supplies in the hands of the general storekeeper at the Brooklyn navy yard. The storekeeper goes over the book, sets aside such of the goods required as he has in his possession, and makes requisition upon the various depart- ments in the yard for whatever else he re- quires. It should be understood that every bureau of the Navy Department here has @ branch at each yard and on board of every ship in the service, so that it may be said to ramify everywhere. The yard depart- ments referred to furnish whatever is want- ed in the way of equipments or what not, and on the day that the ship goes into com- mission, the storekeeper has had everything placed on board of her, except the medi- cines. These come direct from the naval laboratory at New York. E BACHE. moo WOULD NOT DIE. THEY Stories of Two Women Who Very Near to Death. From Worthington’s Magazine. One of the earliest wrecks recorded on the coast of America was that of a Dutch vessel on Sandy Hook in 1620. The captain, passengers and crew contrived to evade the Indians, and in the long beat arrived safely in New York, excepting a man and woman named Van Princis. He was wound- ed at the time of the wreck and had to be left behind with his faithful young wife, Penolope. By her aid he managed to find a shelter in the neighboring woods, where she nursed him, w they were discovered by the savages. Tigers could not haw more merciless to these helpless casta- ways. They murdered the husband, and cleaving the woman’s skull and fearfully slashing her body, left her for dead, as they supposed. But she seems to have possessed a constitution of iron, for she revived and iow tree, where she actually a deer passed her with arrows sticking in its side. This was evidence that Indians were at hand. Rendered desperate by hun- ger and pain, and preferring immediate death to a continuance of this lingering starvation, the young woman crawled forth from her asylum 25 two Indians reached the spot. One was for finishing her at once with a blow of his tomahawk. ut the el- der Indian, moved perhaps by a shrewd desire to profit, imverposed, took her to his wigwam, and by the “pplication of simples, cured her wounds. When sh b bear the journey he took her to New where she was 1 for what was a very large sum # £ to the price of cap! ves in the Indian stock exchange. This mcst remarkable bero rward married Riche 3 a at the age of one } ten, after seeing 52 of her descendants. Her story reminds us of the episode told of Margaret Erskine, who was laid in the family vault, apparertiy dead. A ring left on her finger had attracted the eupidity of two of the attendants at her funeral. They invaded the v: and in order to remove the ring cut the finger. She etarted up in her co Horror-streck, the robb i walied home the his mother’s Jun