Evening Star Newspaper, December 9, 1893, Page 17

THE EVENING STAR PUBLISHED DAILY EXCEPT SUNDAY. no Avenue. corner 11th St. The Evening Star Newspaper Ke 8. H. KAUFFMANN, ‘account, te. wonth. Copies tes or Canada—postage prepaid—50 cents SATURDAY QUINTUPLE SHEET St, 3 aR $1.00 per year Totes af advectining made known on apnlicatio: WASHINGTON, ext. Che £pening Star. ages 17=20. ——— D. ©, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 9, 1893—TWENTY PAGES. TO ADVERTISERS. AGvertisers are urgently re- Quested to hand in advertisements the day prior to publication, in order that insertion may be as- sured. Want advertisements will be received up to noon of the day of publication, precedence. being Siven to those first received, THE ART LEAGUE. An Institution That Has Done Much for Washington. {T 18 NOW IN ITS NEW HOM How It Has Grown From Small Beginnings. a THE COURSE OF STUDY. HEN ONE OF THE most famous Ameri- can novelists takes an art school for his theme, the fact is not without significance. Howells’ latest story, “The Coast of Bohe- mia.” deals largely with the New York Art Students’ League. There could be no more striking tndica- tion of the public in- terest In such insti- tutions. In some sort the New York league Is the parent of the others in other cities. its courage, energy and singieness of pur- been an example to the others, and its splendid success has been a source of great encouragement to them. But if there were only good art schools in 2 few great cities many a talent would re- main forever hidden. A city like Washing- ton must have its own art facilities. The need of a good art school, conducted on the same principles of independence and .co-op- eration as the New York league, was long felt by a group of talented and ambitious young people to bé an urgent necessity. Their aim was to found a school, serious and professional in its character, which would give its students the’ thorough train- ing essential to all good work. Mr. E. C. Messer and Mr. R. N. Brooke gave invalu- able assistance in starting the movement” and nine years ago became the first teach- ers of the small, but enthusiastic band who | the Butlders' Exchange Hal! Art Stadents League. called th Ives The Art Students’ League of Wash Since then, more and more, the institution so founded has attracted Pubic attention, and story has been Often told of the modest beginnings and the gradual rity and effectivene and perfe: especially f the acknowle tint used in beautiful 1 reoms constructed art league is now self-sup- much to those generous and izens who gave timely assist- they must have their reward In wt fact that their seed has brought forth so go It is no wonder 4-should win 5 something pa- sym- ction, fre come in for a large share of pra o of these, Mr. Messer and Mr. N. Bro still are con- and devoted to the interests of the la Its New H . in its har me. isome rters at SOS 17th it gives no in n of its former ies, and the rious bands of Students who fill its rooms giv @ evidence of fect facilities ery stage of art sed teach- plaster casts ulptures—is the course of in- when the student it © pe! le is the tea her of water vers of its faculty is ally true of Miss ¢ work has brought st valuable acqui- returned from a where he has and been ributes largely by her efficient S affairs. A good tasm and Interest of growth of the They are open to but at- tendance upot »tional. to the manner of = in sue, Mr. Meyer said r mode of g is about the same as in other ar The pupils are first ybject they are to d shade. Block s, plaster heads Id to sketch have done he teacher they s and feet, nouch there re given, eeescarec Mr. 8 Brooke, Mr. nd Miss Florence A. Pond | Yarious classes, and Miss | of Mr. Brooke's names | their work so well value to addition to giving | | Nary steps in this direction have, according | of course it being understood that the stu- Gents are promoted entirely according to their merits and individual efforts. Nature is the Best School. “In the course of time the students are advanced to the life class, and the pupil for the first time begins to sketch from nature. “Nature is the great mistress in whose studio the artist should ever be humbly seeking to increase his store of knowledge, though hints should be valued and rules re- spected. They should never be allowed to hamper the student, for when all technical information has been given we should re- turn to the simple yet invaluable direction— study nature. THE TRUTH SEEKERS. A Curious Religious Sect in Port- land, Oreg. ONDER LEADERSHIP OF MRS. WILLIAMS, A Woman Formerly Well Known in Washington Society. SAYS SHEIS THENEW MESSIAH. Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. PORTLAND, Ore., Dec. 2, 1893. NE OF THE MOsT interesting charac- ters of the west, and, indeed, one of the most remarkable wo- men of the century,is Mrs. George H. Wil- liams, who is now a “The life class is one of the most impor- tant periods in learning art. Here the stu- dents are taught to draw from models, draped and nude, both male and female. Many of the students who intend to be pro- fessional artists also take up the study of anatomy, but this is not absolutely neces- sary. As it is impossible to secure models who are perfectly formed in every detail, we often find the necessity of making a composite picture from three or four. One may have a fine arm, another better shaped limbs. Sometimes, however, an artist may obtain a model who is fairly proportioned all over, thus relieving him or her of get- ting additional ones. “Was there any difficulty in securing models?" asked The Star reporter. ‘There was at first,”” replied Mr. Meyer, ut it came from the small demand there was for them in Washington. This trouble has been gradually overcome, and at pres- ent the league employs a number of per- sons in this capacit: conclusion, Mr. Meyer said that he | thought the school was making great head- way. and it would not be long before they | would need larger quarters. Over one hun- dred pupils now belong, and more are join- ing the ranks daily. long to see the day,” he said, “when the art-loving citizens of this city will turn to the past and thank the students who, by their conscientious work and untiring ‘en- ergy. founded this institution and helped to make Washington the greatest art center in_the United States.” The officers of the league for the ensuing year are: President, Mr. E. Francis Riggs; first vice president, Mr. Wells M. Sawyer: second vice president, Miss A. E. Solomons recording secretary, Mr. W. B. corresponding secretary. Miss A. J. New. treasurer, Miss Mathilda Mueden. November 18 the league inaugurated a course of iNustrated lectures on art at and the flat- teringly large attendance at the first lec- ture gives assurance of the marked success of the course. The opening lecture was on | “Modern Painters,” by Mr. Carroll Reck- | with, and the next. on the evening of: De- cember 16, will be by Mr. Edwin H. Blash- | field. the subject being “Decorative Art, Old | Ttalian Masters.” | > UTE TO EUROPE. Preliminary Steps Alrendy Taken in an Enterprise of Vast Magnitude. Before long the project of an all-rail route between America and Europe, thus virtual-| ly connecting the two hemispheres, will re- | ceive the attention of minds given to the} Promotion of great enterprises. Prelimt-| ALL-RAIL RO | to the Pittsburg Dispatch, elready been taken in procuring expert opinions on the route. It is not believed that the engineer- ing difficulties are at all insurmountable, the main question being a. financial one, rather than otherwise. Leaving the United States at some point on the northwestern | boundary of the state of Washington, the proposed line would be located some’ dis- tance inland from, but parallel with, the Pacific coast,traversing northward through British Columbia, then leaving the Domin- ion, enter AlusKa, cross tne Yukon river and touch Bering strait at Cape Prince of | Wales. | This strip of water that divides eastern | Asia from Alaska, and is the link that unites the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, is | only thirty-six miles wide, and is inter- | spersed with islands, between which are | considerable expanses of intervening water, but which seldom exceeds a depth of nine- ty feet. Government soundings have been | taken across the strait, und the ocean | floor found to be of substantial rock. Once | across the strait, Siberian Russia is en- | countered, and, passing the coast of the ult of dir, the road wou!d touch the arctic circle, deflect southwestward, cros: ing the Lena river, then on, continuing in| a diagona, direction through the Russian | empire into the orient. | A branch road of less than 33,000 miles may diverge from the main line, go south- ward md the domains of the czar, swing round the great de: trate into the dense pop’ and her southern satellites, and thus con- nect with the great network of celestial railway systems which the loud neighing of the international tron steed shall call into existence. The scheme when fully ma- tured may embrace the commercial control | Hindoostan, Afghanistan and Persia, sweep the entire Levant and, leaving the home of the Euroclydon, would then be to penetrate eastern Europe and, ing the setting sun, join the rails of our kinsmen on the western side of the ceentinent. The strong point for the peopie of the United States in the construction of this road is tae rail connections with our Alas- kan po: fons and the opening up of what bids fair to prove unprecedented mineral and other wealth. We are also brought to the long chain of Aleutian Islands that we acquired with the purchase of which chain extends so far westward b yond Asia that when the evening shadows lengthen on our most western land the rt of Obi, pene- ations of China morning rays already strike Passamaquod- ay bay, gilding the headlands on the ern coast of Maine. Some of these 4s have an area as large as Penns: mal lines, abound with the finest grazing. The road on built the now disciplined disciples of agriculture from the older au- tonomy can retire to these islands, which are peculiarly adapted to wool growing, where they can engage in producing this invaluable commodity and meditate on prouress. To our Canadian cousins this stupendous project can also be presented in most glow- ing colors. It will give them communica- tion with and market for vast areas of the finest timber, give them access to their great fur-bearing country and will supply the ax of settlement to their great north- | ern wilderness. On the Siberian side of the strait, in addition to the immense de- posits of ivory and bones, the remains of myriads of the colossal creatures of the pre-glacial world, there are the inexhausul- bie mines worked by the Siberian exiles, and this entire region, while cold and in-| hospitable, 1s Hterally a magazine of wealth, a cold storage of the measureless product of a former and more generous age. a Suited Him. From the Tndianapolts Journal | “But, papa,” wailed the young woman, | 1 can have no idea how he loves me. He 1s willing to die for me this y ute.” “Well,” said th ‘y min- old man, scratching his chin thoughtfully,““I don't know that I have any objection to that. 1 was afraid he wanted to marry you.” | She claims to be the | Washington at | head. ow the palatial family home of the Wil-| | Willi: * past five years, bi resident of this city. Less than twenty years since this wo- man was a recogniz- ed leader in society in Washington, and was a familiar figure at all state occasions in the national capital. Her husband's political attainments gave her position. Ten years ago, suffering from a great political disappointment, Judge Wil- liams sought to find solace in exile to this pleasant western city. Since then the ta- bles have been turned. Judge Williams came to Portland seeking oblivion, but in- stead he is gaining much notoriety by rea- son of his wife's erratic religious beliefs and rash assumptions. Already Mrs. Williams has built up a new religion,and 1s the leader of a band of 500 or more ignorant fanatics, who believe that upon her shoulders has fallen the sacred mantel of the Prophet Eli- jah; that she fs able to heal the sick, cure the cripple, cause the blind to see and raise the dead, even as Jesus did when on earth. New Messiah.” For five years this woman has been studiously building up her new religion, and within the Past two years her efforts have been phe- nomenally successful. _ Truth-Seekers Tabernacle. ‘The name of George H. Williams will call up many niteresting reminiscenses to the minds of men who sat ag. 3 of is 3. nemiber: | the Senate during Presidefit Grant's admin- istration and to many 2 tin. the «time. ese will re-| member Judge Williams as a man of rare sagacity and unquestioned political influ- ence; they will remember him as ex-Senator trom Oregon. ex-judge of the Supreme Court, ex-United States Atto>ney General and mem: ber of the commission which secured with England the “Treaty of Washington,” es- {ablishing the northwestern United States boundary through the Canal de Haro. It was Judge Williams’ greatest desire to be- jcome chief justice of the Supreme Court. He secured the indorsement of Preseident | Grant, but the Senate declined to contirm the nomination, and the coveted plum fell into the grasp of the late lamented Morri- son R. Waite. Removal to Portland. Neither the;judge nor his beautiful wife cared to remain long in Washington after their legal and social aspiratfons were so completely shel out. They soon remov- ed to Portland, where the judge sought to forget, exist and die. He still retains his wealth, but his political sun has set. His wife, determined to shine in some role, has for the past few years exiled herself from society and has devoted her entire energies to building up the religious order of ‘Truth Seekers,” of which she is the acknowledged ses on What is known as “Nob Hill” in Portland has been turned into a meeting place for the “Truth Seekers,” and every afternoon and evening, rain or shine, stream of solemn-faced men and women may be seen entering the residence to hear the words of “truth” spoken by their “prophet.” Situated on a slight elevation the “Truth Seekers’ Tabernacle,” as the de votees call Mrs. Williams’ house, commands a charming view of the entire city. Stretch- ing to the east and west on either side of the placid Willamette river is a network of residences, brick buildings, towers, shade trees, bridges and moving steamers. Every morning at 10 o'clock Mrs. Will- iams receives all visitors who wish religious consolation or seek advice concerning their souls. A few days ago I called on Mrs. ns during her ‘visitors’ hour.” My ring at the door bell was answered by Mrs, Williams in person. I gave her my card d wes immediately admitted. Down the richly freseoed hall to the right were fold- irg doors, which opened into a spacious frawing room. Arranged in rows were irs and in one end of the room was a geous pulpit. This was the meeting room. Williams You're welcome,” said Mrs. cordially, “but I don’t care to talk to news- paper men. The Lord would be displeased, for it is not His way of work. He labors in a_ quiet way and does not allow the result of his labors to be heralded in the press.”” Those who remembered Mrs. W!liams fif- teen years ago would no doubt recognize her now, for the vears have dealt gently h her, and thouch her hair fs white and there are faint traces of “crnw’s feet" about her eyes it would be a diffeult matter to | a handsome , gness her age. She is etill woman—large. slightly inclined to be portly, a shapely head well set on graceful shen ders and an easy. pleasing walk. T hardly. hed time to make reniv to her remarks when she added encouraginely A Tatk With Mre. Williams, “If you wish to talk with me as a ‘Truth eeker.’ T will talk with you. Many news- per men h: led upon me within the t I have refrained from talking to them. T have no fear, however, that anything will ever be written concern- ing me. for the Lord has said that it shall never be. IT can state instances where ar- ticles have been written about me and my | work, but Christ, who is invisible, but everywhere, performed miracles. and the articles were never published. My name, in connection with this, has never been never will be.” Mrs. Willams surveyed me keenly for a moment, as if to read my thoughts, and then add firm}; “I feel at lit y to talk with you, how- ever, for I know that should you ever at- tempt to write a line concerning what I have said today your hand would imme- diately become paralyzed; your thoughts would be stclen from you, and. if you per- sisted, you would either be rendered a luna- tic or be stricken dead. {f you write a line concerning me you do it at your own risk, and the consequences are ter-r-r-thle!” After a long oration, in which she com 1 herself to the Apostle Paul, Mrs, Wil- Hams quieted de a little and said, almos usly, though not nesvishly. fe it would! impossible for her to he peevish: i don't k y what would have become of me if Jud Williams had been elected chief justice when he was nominated by President Grant. i sought for him that position zealously, for to be the wife of a chief Justice would be better than the presi- dency. because it would be for iife. A good deal has been said concerning me and the ts which {s not altogether true; but it past now. The fall was a great o has been for the best. In humblene: my life's work. mentioned in print, and all ut it of spirit I gave myself up to the Savior, and I’m a laborer in His vineyard. Saved by a Miracle. “Five years ago I was troubled with my eyes. In @ moment one day while at dinner my left eye went out. My right eye then began to grow dim. Physicians were called in and they said 1 would eventually become totally blind. I could not go out in society, but enjoyed myself in a quiet way by giv- ing teas and germans here at my home. Finally the lignt from my right eye went out. One evening, after I had retired, my conscience smote me and I cried aloud: “‘On, Lord, give me back my eyesight and I will serve Thee to the end!’ . “I felt a cold hand on my brow; then something struck me lightly; such a refresh- ing sensation! I sat bolt up in bed, fright- ened. All was silent, except the beating of my heart. The moon's rays shone asiant in my room from the edges of the half-drawn curtain, causing fantastic shapes and fig- ures to dance on the opposite wall. My eyes were sound! 1 could see as plainly as 1 ever could in my younger days. My soul was filled with hope, peace and happiness, and all night long I lay and communed with Him who had healed my affliction. From that day to this I have been the ha} plest woman in the world,” and she clapped her hands in as much delight as a child over a new toy. She quickly stopped and colored slightly, eyeing me closely in the meantime. She detected that the same question had arisen in both our minds at once. When I gave Mrs. Williams my card at the door she could not read It, evidently having misplaced her glasses, and I was obliged to tell her what was printed there- on. If she had recovered her eyesight com- pletely why could she not have read the card? ow, I could have read your card easily when you first handed it to me, had I not looked at it with my worldly eyes. I was disconcerted for the moment and conse- quently I could not see. But now that I perceive with my spiritual eyes, 1 can read it very easily,” and she took up the card and read a half dozen times, each time incorrectly, the name on the card. “I can read the Bible easily,” opening a small Bible which she carries continually and which, she says, she holds even in her sleep. She could not see the words of the chapter to which she turned and was forced to close the book, saying: ‘The Lord does not wish me to read now, for He will not permit my eyes to see. For five years I have read no book except the Bible. My followers in this great work have sworn to emulate my example and not poison their minds by the reading of worldly literature. It is thus by refraining from all worldliness that I am able to become all the more like Christ in the flesh." “Did you ever raise the helpless or heal the afflicted?” I asked. “I certainly have,” she unhesitatingly answered, “and k am doing these things every day. Why, within the past few days seven persons who were almost blind, so blind that they with difficulty made their to my home, came to me and sought relief. I prayed with them, and the mo- ment they truly believed that the Lord, through me, could heal them, I placed my hands on each one’s head and said: “‘Dear Lord, heal this, Thy unfortunate servant.’ “Instantly they recovered their eyesight and today they are shouting my praises. They are my disciples. “I could easily number a hundred cases wherein I have cured people who have sought the truth. Nearly all of my followers are people upon whom I have per- formed some miracle. One of the pillars of the Y. M. C. A. come to me two years ago with a story of financial trouble. 1 could easily have given him what money he need- ed, but I preferred to aid him in another way. He owed $500 and he had that day | besa du ined by his creditor and was threat- )emed with being turned out of doors with his famfly. While I prayed with him I ex- erienced a st by Becoming Tl = ang my whole body be:ame as rigid as marble. My blood froze in my veins and it seemed as if the very eyes would plunge from their sockets. It was a wonderful manifestation of the spirit and it lasted several minutes. I dare not tell you what I saw.” In apparent ag- ony of mind Mrs. Williams buried her whit- \ened head in her hands. Continuing, she said: “Like a flash I became my” former | self and looked about me. The man, ter- rified at my conduct, was crouched in a cor- ner of the room, just behind where you are |now seated. I calmed him, told him to go |home and that he would find his creditor awaiting him with a kind word. He went. At his home was his creditor, who greeted him with an outstretched hand, gave him a reveipt for $500, explaining: ““T am very much obliged, Mr. , for your prompt payment. I fourd the money and your note. Allow me to say that et our | place of business your credit is good’ for any amount And Now for the Future. “What are your teachings regarding the millenium?" I asked. | “I teach what the Lord has shown me. | We are in the fingers and toes of the giant |of time, which represents the life of na- tions. Adam and Eve lived in the head of the giant and we live in the further extrem- lity. It is but a short time until the trans- 'formation—the judgment day. When Ga- | briel shall blow his trumpet all the faithful | shall be caught up into the clouds from out of harm's way and the wicked, who shall remain, will then be consumed with an elec- trical fire In the twinkling of an eye. This /old earth will then be remodeled, be trans- formed into a new and grand garden of | Eden and the chosen shall then take up their abode bere for another thousand years. The country will ‘flow with milk and | wild Money’ and every one will be sugreme- y happy.” vy Tinging of the door bell at this moment | disturbed our conversation, and Mrs, Wil- ‘iiams arose ard admitted several ladies, 1 heavily veiled. The ladies bowed low and were shown into the meeting room and | Mrs. Williams immediately rejoined me. As |1 arose to go she laid a hand on my arm |and said: as | “_want to pray for you. May 1? | “If you like,” I replied, with some embar- |rassment, not expecting such kindly solici- |tude. I little dreamed of what was to hap-| |pen. She led me across the room and, plac- |ing her hands on my head, she stood behind [me and pressed me down on my knees. | Then she began: | “Dear Lord, here he Is. \sires to see the truth. Open his eyes—" Please close your eyes,” commanded Mrs. Williams, with some irritation. | “They're closed.” I insisted, at the same |time wondering how she could tell I had ‘them open when she was behind me. | “They're not closed,” she hotly retorted, ‘and I was about to repeat my first asser- tion, when I glanced up and my face grew a crimson hue. I was in front of a large mirror and Mrs. Williams was surveying my face from behind. I shut my mouth and |closed my eyes tightly. Then she rattled along in a strain that made my blood run | cold. “He's a newspaper man, dear Lord. If} he writes a line about me, curse him. If he | even now contemplates writing a line con- | | cerning me and Thy work, kill him; or para- | |lyze him. Destroy and bankrupt the news- | | papers which shall attempt to publish his—" | | I started as if I had been stabbed in the | |back. A small gilded clock over a bronze statue of Hamlet on the mantelpiece slowly tolled the dinner hour. It brought me to my senses, and slipping my head from un- | der her hands I seized my hat and overcoat and fled. In the hallway I heard the sound | of a sweet female voice and glancing down the length of frescoed walls T beheld, from behind a pair of drawn curtains, the figure of Mrs. Williams’ pretty niece, seated be- | fore a piano. Hurrying out of the entrance I jostled a decrepit old woman who, slowly balancing herself on a pair of rickety | crutches, ed the request on a flaring | |placard: “Please wipe your feet!” | About two blocks away I leaned against ‘a shade tree at the edge of the pavement and watched the entrance I had just quitted. In ten minutes the decrepit old woman with |the crutches reappeared. She was still as, lame as when she entered. | Slowly meandering through the hustling | |streets, endeavoring to remember all that | |had taken place within the last two hours, | I passed a phonograph stall. Standing! there paying out his nickel: to hear hack- | neyel selections of banjo music and) sketches from the variety theater was a/ gray-haired man of splendid physique. His | attire, from his neat-fitting boots to he! silk tile which crowned his whitened head, was faultless. Though he spoke not it was plainly evident by his general bearing that he was a man of ease, wealth and refine- ment. As I watched hiin T detected the dim snook of a sardonte smile playing around (his tron jaw, occasioned, no doubt, by the orier of self-inflicted muste which assatled his ere And this man was Hon. George H. Willlams. A sinner who de- | rroney. ti fF ie BSH vat thd f a «9 to the charity bail, and the charity ball was very fashiona- | ble; there was no doubt about that. Kitty had eaten a late supper, returned home, gone to bed and to sleep; there collected distinctly throwing one shoe under the bed and into a corner, saying “good the other night” to her own image in the looking | glass, twisting the figure of a buttertily tlt her fingers ached, before she discovered that It was not the gas stopper, and then laughing sleepily at all her mistakes. She | even remembered the first dream of her sleep, which was something about chartty inex ITTY HAD BEEN- was no doubt as ne | that either. She rec-> “But how did it come there?” asked Tosey. “Could it have growed?” suggested Tibby. “No,” said Tosey. “Or fell from the sky?” “Guess not,” said Tosey, dubiously. “Or been flunged?” “Oh, no: of course not!” Tosey answered, emphatically. They looked hungrily at the piece of money, and to count together what lots of things they- could buy, and ,their faces grew bright indeed as they thought of it. From the shade of the opposite side of the entrance a thin bundle of rags slowly crept and stealthily shuffled up to them. Out of the dirt and rags peered a thin face and glistening eye, and the hands of the small bundle wearily rubbed themselves together to try and stir up the blood that was not there. “This is a charity ball,” said the thin bundle. “These folks dances for the poor.’ ‘The glistening eyes looked eagerly at ‘Tosey and Tibby, and frequently glanced at the money in their hands. “We is poor, and they dances for us, me and mother, who 1s | sick abed; they dances to give us the bread which we seldom has.” Tosey looked in surprise at the thin bun- dle rubbing its hands. “And does they dress in nice closes for us, and ride in carriages, and give lots of money, and all for us?” The thin bundle rubbed faster and faster. “Yes. If there’s any more than as pays for the dancin’ and the dressin’; and the dancin’ costs ten dollars apiece, and the diamonds, chicken salad lancers and ice | dressin’oh, ¥ dunno! It's all for us—if cream waltzes. “But they didn’t give us any when 1 No; there was no doubt that she had’ sa) said Tibby. gone through all this; yet there she was, staring in at the window of the great ball room, and the ball was but just commenc- ing. Could she have gone to sleep on the window sill in some mysterious manner? No; she was outside, and standing in the air, with somebody holding on to her hand! “Oh, dear,” thought Kitty, mournfully, “I must have drunk some wine somehow. How strange it is! I wonder how I came here! But what a cold hand holds mine! It's not papa’s, for it makes me shiver. Hi must be horrid. 1 won't look at him. So) There did not seem to be much need of | the resolve, however, for the person who held her hand did not move nor seem to care whether she saw him or not, but qui- etly looked in with her. So, at last, like most girls, Kitty’s curiosity got the better of her, and she cautiously glanced out of the corners of her eyes. Beside her she saw an old man. His beard and hair were long and white and dropped about his neck and shoulders like falling snow. Upon his head was lightly placed a crown, as of frostwork, so deli- cate was its texture. Robes, long and dark, and cold to look at, fell in broad folds from his shoulders, and were held to his waist by a girdle of twinkling stars. He was gazing in at the brilliant assem- Diage with a sad, melancholy expression upon his face. Kitty looked at his robes. “How very old-fashioned,” she thought, nd aged, very aged.” “Yes,” murmured the old man; very old. Kitty started. He read her thoughts, evi- dently. She was sorry now she had thougnt it, he looked so sad. “Who are you?” asked Kitty, timidly; “and why have you brought me here?” “I am the Cold Night,” said the old man, slowly turning his eye toward her. His eyes were sharp and piercing, yet full of Kindness. “And 1 have brought you here that you might see how great your charity for I heard this was a charity ball.” Yes," said Kitty nervously. “I am a friend of the poor,” continued the Qbid Night; “and 1 Jove to see charity.” me woked pacK Imto the ball-room as he “old, spoKe. “You see ail your tmenus here?” “Les,” Said aNilty, brigntening up, and gammy insiae win someuug of a proud 1UUK. were Flurry rau rignt betore the WindoW huw. She nas tose peauusui soil- tuive aiamonds im her ears. On, uear, now bright Wuey took! I wisn 2 had them. “wut you had the hanasomest dress,” said the Cola Nugnt, saaly. “Un, yes, exciauned Kitty, quickly. “It Was of ive Tichest suk, alid Cust several aunured Gouars. #apa Was sv kind. “Ana Was IU bougut tor charity?” asked the Coid Nignt. Vhy, hw,” answered Kitty, in surprise. “For ie, of course.” “aul tne ball 1s for charit: Kity vegan to be pewiuered by so much catecnising and sne was much relieved When he ied ner away. tney uescenued to the grand entrance, Where he poimted out two ttle beggars, a boy and a girl, Who fiddied and saug, and esneu a penn Irom le carriages. y tonight.” Said Kitty, “but they are horrid beggars. Tue Cold Night was silent, and Kitty Was afraid she might have said something wrong, so she added: “And common street fiddiers."" But the Cold Night said nothing. They both watcned the litle duo—Tosey and ‘Tibby, the Cold Night said—and drew nearer to hear w they would say. Peo- ple, rich with money and great in charity, carefully sed them by, for they were | ragged bes rs, and fiddled and sang. It was cold, Id, and Tosey played very, very slowly, while the breath of Tibby's quivering plaint disappeared despairingly in the trosty air. The wheels of carriages seemed to creak in sympathy as they crushed down the snow. Yes, it was cold, indeed, yet they fiddled and sang untiringly, while the rich people alighted and passed up the grand entrance, after glancing con- temptuously at the poor little duo, who fiddied and sang as the brilliant dresses disappeared in the distant doorway, bit finally stopped as the last carriage drove away. “I suppose we looks too awful,” said ‘osey, wetting her lips and feeling va- cantly in the small pockets, which God knows had not seen so much as a dime for many and many a day. “Yes,” said Tosey, “but I does feel so hungry, an’ [ sang so loud, and I tried so hard, and—" Tibby slightly sobbed small piece of t-r sha large tear. “Don’t cry,” said Tosey, tremulously, “let's move on, and perhaps we'll find a little somethin’. Oh, if we only had a few pennies!” Tosey took Tibby’s hand and they started to move away. “Oh, Mr. Ci orrowfully poor little t tiny wipe away a Night,” exclaimed Kitty, ‘let me give them something— ings!” “But they are .beggars," answeréd the | Cold Night. Kitty looked ashamed. She could feel herself blush, even though she was cold and _shiverin: The Cold Night handed her a silver piec “Yes.” said he, “drop it, even if wasted. See whet they will do.” Kitty took {t quickiv id dropped it be- fore them. Right at Tibbv’s foot fell the which she would have passed un- notteed if Tosey had not exclaimed: it's “Oh, Tibby, there's a dime!” and picked | it un, Tibby clasped her hands in delight, fanced up and down and then looked into his hand to be sure that {t was really there. Tt was. surely, “Won't we have a hot potato, though,” s Tosey. “And a hic roll and some butter and @y»me meat. and Inst a very little niece of pte?” Tibby named each one of them on the ends of her Anzers, but stopn-d when she rot to her themb, for the money was all fone by that time, and the thumb was quite large. of the rich peopie descending | nd silently used a | rs, no!” said the thin bundie; “they thinks beggars don’t need nothin’. They has folks as hunts up poor folks when they has time, and sews flannels when they hasn't. Yes, they says they does all this for us, but—” The bundle shook its head as if it were doubtful, and continued “I stood over yender thinkin’ somebody would give me somethin’; but they all loox- ed mad at me, shadder and sight, but I'm jest stopped rubbing, and as the bundle added: “My mother is very, very sick. Oh, we's poor—so poor!” ‘Tosey looked at his little sister as the rags began to shuffle away. “Tibby,” says he, “does we feel so awful hungry? Tibby hesitated. She looked at the sil- ver, and then at the slowly retreating fig- ure, and then she looked up into Tosey’s gentle, loving face. “No, Tosey; I dunno as I does.” Tosey turned around, and, running after the departing figure, handed her the piece of money. “There,” says he, “take it; you need it more than we does.” The bundle looked in surprise as she took the piece and tears fell down the thin, pale face. But she only said: “I’m very, very grateful,” and walked off. The two little es watched the fig- ure as it disappeared in darkness, while the happy shuffle grew fainter and fainter. Ah, here was c! 'y, Godlike charity, in the hearts of the beings whom the rich de- spised and thrust from their doors! As the Cold Night turned toward Kitty, he found her silently wiping her eyes. “Do you see what true charity is?” asked he, in a sweet, sympathetic voice. ‘es, yes,” murmured Kitty; “I see I see. While they were talking, they had slowly risen up, up to the brilliant windows again. ‘Now look at the mockery,” Cold Night, somewhat harshly. It was the most brilliant hour of the ball. Lights front myriads of jets, embedded in massive chandeliers, sparkle with intensity, making the brightest day o! gloomy night. People decked with jewels and silks and laces were gathered in merry groups, or joining in pleasurable dance to the strains of sweet and lively music. It was a beautiful sight indeed; but somehow the people looked heartless ‘to Kitty, and the jewels glittered spitefully, while rich silks seemed to hiss and hiss as they rustied along, as if all were rebelling against their false use. “But one or more act,” said the Cold Night, gently leading her down, down to the opposite side of the street. From a dark corner, with their arms twined about each other's necks, the two little beggars watched the windows of the brilliantly lighted hall—away up in the sky it seemed—watched the that fre- quently appeared in rich, dainty dresses, and smiled to think it was all for the poor and needy. ‘They dances for us and for others,” murmured Tibby; “for those as is in want. Maybe the beautiful ladies will find us here tomorrow, and give us some bread.” “Yes,” said Tosey; “and the poor little girl as has the sick mother. P’raps they'll find them and help them, too.” The Cold Night waved his hand above them, and they both shivered, and said how cold it was. Tosey tried to play a note on his violin, but the strings creaked so dis- mally that he laid it aside. Then they sang together the sweet little song of charity which Tibby had sung to the rich people; and, as they sang, the Cold Night spread his mantle slowly around them until they were fast asleep. “Oh, sir!’ cried Kitty, “spare them, and let them live.” “No,” said the Cold Night, “they ape too poor to live. They must die. Kitty fell on her knees before him, “Oh, sir!” she pleaded, beseechingly, “I am rich, and will take care of them, and relieve them from suffering.” But the Cold Night raised its hand and pointed upward, saying: “Too late, too late! As he spoke, he took the beggars in his yarms and slowly rose up toward the stars, leaving Kitty sobbing on the ground. As she knelt there, she heard, high in the skies, the song that the beggars sang, the song of sweet charity, swelling to a mighty chorus, as one would think to celebrate a mighty deed—mighty in the sight of heaven. She tried to raise her head, but could not; she seemed bound to the earth by great weight, as of gold, while above the song grew fainter and fainter, till at last it ceased, and | then she fell into a deep swoon. It was broad daylight when Kitty awoke, | and the sun was shining brightly into her | window. In the hall the maid was hum- ming a subdued song as she went blithely about her work; while without, the white smoke of morning fires—signs of stirring life—curled upward from the chimney tops into the cool air as if glad to meet the light of day. “It was only a dream; yet, oh, how vivid!” thought Kitty, as she rubbed her eyes again and again, surprised to see the walls of her own pretty room actually around her. full of truth!” cheerily rang the milkman’s bell as Kitty donned he. morning dress while, as she passed down the broad stair. case, the great hall clock seemed to say: “Only a dream, only a dream. yet there's a lesson; yet there's a lesson;” and Kitty pondered. A year from that time Kitty passed by the same old clock; but this time ticked, ticked away: “Only a dream; yet it has made her an angel—an angel of mercy to suffering need. Her name, so dear to us, is a name of love among the poor. Ah, happy, happy was the day when, to her eyes, a dream revealed | true charit: ———— see. A Minister Old From the Lockport Journal. Friends inclined to regard Father Craw of the Hess Road as an old man probably do not know what they are talking about. We have proof in point. In addition to pec forming ministerial and other good Metho- dist work enough to weigh down an ordi- rary man Father Craw recently, and just for a flier and @ little exercise, himself tore down 159 rods of rail fence, dug post holes the whole way and put up a brand- new fence. We suppose he is over seventy years of age, but If any one wants a good orkman—whether it is preaching of doing hard manual labor—we recommend Father ‘ Craw. Vigorous. | peared in helio | “Only a dream only a dream; yet, how | ut said, as ¢ | of the type that yearn for novelty in THE VEIL OF FASHION. ct to Hide, but to Set Of a Pretty Face. Too Much Care Cannot Be Spent Upon the Solution of This Part of a Woman's Costume. ‘Written for The Evening Star. Some clever body has remarked these days no women is pretty special permission of her milliner. & great deal more in the remark pears on the surface, and inasm one woman in five thousand stands just how to dress her hi milliners are of a race in whom is not, rare indeed is the woman pretty as nature gave her a chance to One great trouble is with the hair, the average woman—your next door neigh. bor, of course, is totally unable to see tha’ the coiffure so charmingly worn by the Ma- donna-faced Mrs. Jones in the next street fh ili sects rate i faced self, and that the girlish curls which are so charming on a debutante are quite out of place on a matron who had a sweet- heart in the last war. The second obstacle in the way of beauty is the hat, a stumbling biock which will exist till women realize that ready trimmed hats are absurd and that not a bow or loop or buckle should be put on the hat without direct reference, not to the hat as a whole, but to the woman who is to wear it. One sees picture hats above faces which are The third obstacie, however, is one that might be much more easily removed than either of the other two, it is that seem- ingly insignancant but really stupenuousiy PA late fe z : i i f i tf | black bobinette, and its apparent object was to hold her nose on, for it was strained across that member in a medical student fashion. There were veils of all colors and textures, and of all degrees of beauty and ugliness, the latter decidedly im the major- ity, Worth declares that no woman can wear an ecru veil. The shades of tan and the browns which everybody is wearing this season are exiremely trying to anyone but the extremely florid woman who is seldom seen. They give the pale or sallow woman “a jaundiced look that sets one’s teeth on edge. Last year a few reckless women ap- rope which gave them the appearance of so many corpses in rather an advanced stage of decomposition. These, however, are quite out of date, and, indeed, were never very much worn. Even Blacks Not Always Good. Black is not universally becoming, popu- lar belief to the contrary notwithstanding. It has a tendency to age the face. With large dots it has the peculiar property of making the eyes appear much more bril- liant. Gray gives a@ distressing pallor the face, and blue makes every touch of i i tulle, which are so mi ern women, are perhaps the veils worn, for they soften like a coating of rice powder the eyes like a spoonful of cologne. Wedding veils are now generally the same white tulle. The prettiest this season are quite long enough to the train, and are finished at the with a wide hem. The wedding veil always be worn over the face until emony is concluded. The custom than a passing whim of fashion pretty significance of its own. : I | | ike HEH HS fairs where novelty is bad taste have veils on their bridesmaids, betraying their utter lack of appreciation of the real mean- ing of the veil. The bridal vell is for the bride alone, and the woman who is pre- ceded up the aisle by a flock of girls with vetls is the sort of woman who would elect to be married on the Ferris wheel or at some unearthly hour of the night for nov- elty’s sake. Whatever sort of veil you wear let it be put on well. Boston women are said to dress their heads better than women of any other town in the country, and the veil the real Boston woman is always big and taut. She knows that the tiniest imperfec- tion in the veil wrecks a fetching costume far more than shabby gloves or untiay shoes. The veil must be absolutely fresh, or must be discarded. It must not be ac- cordion pleated, as some are shown in the shops. It must be a plain strip of gauze of the color and texture best suited to the earer’s complexion. Then if the hat to be orm with it has a brim, the veil must be slightly gathered for an inch or two across the front, so that it will not draw across the nose. In fact, it must touch the nose very lightly, if at all. Then it must be brought up to the back of the hat and fast- ened neatly and carefully in such a way that there will be no lines projecting be- yond the hat. Then the veil must be ar- ranged in such a way that fts lines slant from chin to ear sharply. This ts the chic arrangement of ft, and one that so many women fa'l to get The veil should not be put on carsessty. It must not be too tight nor yet to» toose. & To adjust it is a work of time and requt a skillful hand, but at in that small pi F the power to make or mar a ¢ rong amount of time in adjusting it cam possibly be considered wasted.