Evening Star Newspaper, January 6, 1894, Page 18

18 IN PARIS STUDIOS The American Girl and Her Position There. HOW THE STUDENTS WORK AND PLAY The Three Great Colonies of French * Art Life. DIFFERENCES OF STYLE GBpecial Correspondence of The Evening Star. PARIS, December 28, 188. MAGINE YOUR- self an American girl whose untaught at- tempts have eee triking pic- tures ‘that your rela tives and friends are sure you are destined to become a Rosa Bonheur. Paris, the center of the artistic world, at once looms up in your vision, and you feel that if you do not go there life thas no further value to you. So, are fa Jong talks with the teachers of the “br art schools, and letters of inquiry; Ee. careful poring over French catalogues, - of French actists and teaching studios, and, at last, sailing tables and lists of Parisian pensions. This last, though it does sp geem so important to you, is a matter great anxiety to your mother. It pi are thinking seriously of going to Paris, you will not lack addresses. re one you know, who has ever been in tl " French capital, knows of pensions, and a have only to pick and choose. But no mat- ter what recommendations you are blessed ‘with, make up your mind to change your first pension soon after your arrival, for ten to one, you will. At pensions you can stay Qhree days, three weeks, or three days—it makes no difference—so wait till you make French acquaintances, and then suit your- welf. ‘The average American girl brings several trunks, with an idea of cheapness. Baggage 4s very expensive in France, and everyth <4 ike clothing and artists’ materials is al normally cheap, and the wee et regen ible behind, and start be aon in the midst of the whirl and bustie| of work-a-day Paris, she looks about for the art which she expected to feel in the air, nd see staring at her around the corners. Once in Paris, she expects her concierge to Be able to descant upon a. and is profoundly shocked when her coc i evinces deep ignorance of the architect o! the Are de Tziomph. At last, after being cheated in change by almost everyone,from the old woman at the kiosk on down, she wakes up to find Paris a city like every other city—of toiling, matter-of-fact human- ity, which works and eats, and she realizes that even here the “a:t world” must be @earched out. A Girl's Chance in Paris. ‘The first thing, of course, after the Amer- fean girl has learned to count her change correctly, and how the omnibuses run, is to wrrange for lessons. Unfortunately, France's gallantry has not progressed far enough for her to offer to ‘women the same magnificent system of free art education offered to men, but this must ‘be made the best of, especially as the bill providing that the beaux-arts course be opened to women has failed miserably on each of the th-ee occasions on which it has fered to the senate. a are plenty of paid ateliers, however, and at some of them the cost is very small. There is the Julian Academie, whose ate- Mers are in every section of Pacis, the Rolshoven studios, and many others more ‘or less prominent, whose fame is almost in- ternational. These studios are visited by great actisis, and the student, besides hav- ing the constant eye of the director, has the bene‘it of this higher criticism. Besides this, of course, e may take as many | private lessons as wishes, or is able to for. aor these studios the American girl draws or paints steadily during the morning, and | fm the afternoon may work alone in her/ Foom or at the Louvre—with the egulation | @quare of of! cloth spread under her easel to} €atch the paint drops—she may sit perched | on a step ladder, at wo-k copying or mak- ing studies of the femous paintings there. At Wore... t It is not the mo: world to do—to paint @mes the great ga!ier windy and cold 2s a to leave the high cre over one of th The Louvre pleasant thing in the re. Some- in winter, are as . and one is glad 4 position to stand anything. thinking her French, criticisms on her work, French women pass re There are ali types of the i er, too, at the Louvre, on an: Frere is the lo: who looks on ¢ gee a Woman cor eld English party her p. = particulars. Worst of all, e is young couple who a ¥ female half stops is that a gazers. Most of the femininity the stranger sees Perched on the iders and painting @way so industriously simply for work is wactice. The o t, are there at means t @rders to cc who is working “e an object of great envy to t is always | 83 fortunaie sufficient ican girl to a plan of ca get her bearin 5 at many of aign. She fi leas of the Fren ~ When she becom ghe finds that inste f which she had v ere are three o Of its own, : arter | she has exhibited a THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 6, 1894—TWENTY PAGES The art student is gregarious animal, peng together when possible. The girl | in being; haggard. I soon finds it to her advantage to take a | looking Well,” she will tell joint studio with one or two others, and bow she begins to acquire the bohemian flavor of the Mont Parnasse section. She As Scen in French Comic Papers. walks with a rather mannish swing, doesn’t bother, when she goes on the street, to wrap her paint box in paper, allows her hair to grow rebellious, wears round hats and jaunty ties, and cultivates a “nobody- else's business" air. This passes for bohe- mianism, and she is happy. It may be that the cheek so alarmingly displayed by this type is an outgrowth of this. It is here in its glory. The Mont Parnasse girl will walk around the block with red slippers on, and without a hat, as though she were at home in Wilkesbarre or Paterson, and ap- pear serenely unconscious of the delicious remarks of the street gamins. The Mont Parnasse girl is not destitute of wit, either, and is always capable of holding up her end of the stick. .I once heard a Catholic dignitary so taken aback by one of them that he was absolutely speechless. The Mont Parnasse section is the best calculated for the young American girl who comes to work and Is willing to be taught how. Models—and one must draw from life—are cheap there, and there are girls’ classes in the Colorossi studios which cost only 25 francs a month—five dollars. To these classes the student brings easel and materials, and finds there heat, light and model. She can work every evening of the month from 7 till 10, and there her work will be criticised by the greatest art- ists of Paris, who are paid by the manage- ment to visit these studios regularly. The Champs Elysees Style. Furthest removed from the colony of Mont Parnasse is the artistic colony of the Champs Elysees. This is clustered in and about the fine streets running out like wheel spokes from the Arc de Triompn. The great characteristic of the Champs #lysees artist is style. This is not a cheap quarter—indeed, a most aristocratic one. All the great illus- trators of American, English and conti- mental magazines who work in Paris make their home in this section, and a general air of swelldom reigns. Then, too, it is the American quarter of the city, and with the American always comes money, servants and style. So the American girl, who has been petted and feted by society at home, comes here. The girl of this type is apt to be con- tented with the thought that she Is at tast studying art in Paris, and a good deal of her time goes in thinking thus. She rents a delightful little studio—generally two or three of her together—with stained glass windows, buys tiger-skin rugs, old armor and worn-out drums, and builds a Turkish divan in the corner. Then she hangs up her own pastelles and puts fairy lamps on the mantel. She holds ideal little teas in the studio, with the drum for a tea table, has the room photographed, and writes tne most charming studio letters home about art in Paris, which she has quite come to know. When the studio is entirely furnfshea she buys a canvas. It is about eight by seven feet—too large to go in the door—and has to be hauled up to the window by a rope. This is for a Madonna which she ts going to paint. It is generally a Madonna at first, or an ideal figure, such as “Soli- tude” or “Music.” She works fajthfully at this—by streaks— and quarrels with her best friend if the latter suggests that perhaps a Madonna is @ little too ambitious a beginning. She takes her daily lesson drawing from ugiy plaster casts, but hurries through the worl to get back to her Madonna. There comes a time, of course, after | Many days and several cries, the Madonna, | by use of a Turkish shawl, becomes an nambitious fire screen, or serves as a Partition between the divan and the wash stand. Then, if the girl has good spirit, she draws a line across the page of her diary, buys bristle board mstead of fairy jamps, and begins to draw painstakingly from the same old ugly plaster casts. ‘The girl who passes this stage safely has learn- ed her first great lesson in art. The Champs Elysees girl is generally hampered by over-confidence, which is the natural result of adulation at home. She lacks the grit of the struggling, common- sense girl of Mont Parnasse, and thus has much more to uniearn. = A Getting Warm jn the Louvre. The girl of the third great artistic col- ony—that of Mont Martr2—is an entirely different creature from either of the others, Her great characteristic is earnestness and her watchword is wor! his type is genera passed the lower rounds and has attained some a girl who has of the ladder success. Perhaps eture or two in one @ither of th ‘There is, fi Whis is the | the Boulevard Mont rt of city ine, and ba Quarter. Th great distingui mianism and gal The Mont Parnasse and it is here broad-minded plane entirely 2 with loft they lack, and hiv affect severe brimmed straw 1 Jong walks out into virons and sketch cows : ie meet es who indane live on a affairs, look Ith w the we: >? tress nsions. They and broad upon light, and pers which to them is Baintresse Americaine.” “La of the two salons self that enough to convince her- has some real talent. | She ly comes from the Mont Par- nasse colony, where she 1 her ap- prenticeship working in the life classes. | She is not overconfident, however, and paints r audonnas. She pays high for riticism of th t sort and profits by it. > honest 1 straightforward with here knows her own faults and works faithfully to overcome them. too faithfully sometimes, and ticity. Young women in Paris ot go out for an as can the find an recreation amusement at cafes chan- the women . when to rest. wom: paints on after the mind is tired and uses up gray matter to no pur- She is tent upon accomplishing so much that even if her nerves do not break own entirely her work soon acquires a las- situde end a lack of “point” that fs all the more discouraging because she cannot ker- self account for it, never The young | Spair and sees them admired takes a pride know I am not you. “I have looked in the glass and I know there are lines on my face, but as long as it is for art's sake jt is an honor and I do not com- plain.” The Mont Martre girl is expected by her fellows to have done something, and as a general thing is exclusive and looks down rather patronizingly upon unlucky — who have not exhibited in the salon, The Mont Martre girl even yy The Inquisitive Sightseer. The Mont Martre colony is centered on the southern slope of the Mont Martre hillsthe highest point in Paris. Some of the studios are quite on its summit, where their windows overlook all Paris, spread out iike a vast panorama at their feet and Stretching away till it melts into haze at the far-distant barriers. The Mont Martre section 1s neither cheap nor dear, but rather the former than the latter. The style of the Mont Martre girl is one in which bodily adornment profiteth nothin; an earnest quietness of make-up without the chic look of the Champs Elysees col- ony, nor yet the bohemian dash which clings to the girl of Mont Parnasse. The most earnest artistic work of Paris is done here, and here it is that one meets sometimes cases of the real tragedy of unsuccessful toil which novelists give us in_their pictures of the Parisian artist. me women paint here for ten, fifteen twenty years—till the cheeks are pale and the hair silvery—when the ability to origi- nate is long since gone—year after year sending pictures to the salon committee, and year after year seeing them refused— painting pictures every year neither better nor worse than those of the year before, in a hopeless plane of mediocrity—always working on with the same painstaking toil, always with the same hope that the last is a little better, a little nearer the mark which they can never reach, This is trag- edy indeed! These three colonies are the three centers about which clings all the art life of Paris. The American girl is to be seen in each of them. She rides on the top of the Mont Parnasse omnibuses, inside the Mont Martre tramsways, and from her Champs Elysees studio goes to her lesson in a fiacre. She is earnest and contents herself with plaster casts, and she is dilletante and insists upon ladonnas. She burns her pictures in de- t the salon. She is in Paris thousands strong—is the American girl—and every year her example grows more contagious. Within the past ten years American male artists have shown little inerease, while the female painter has increased three-fold, until it seems as though in point of numbe! not in superiority of work she is destined to outclass entirely the male contingent. If American art is to be the highest crown of the world’s western culture, surely it seems to be destined for the American girl—not for her brother! POST WHEELER. ——_-+e-+—____ WHAT AMBER Is. The Hardened jum of an Extinct Evergreen Tree. From the St. Paul Globe. A. Becker of East Prussia, Germany, a member of. the firm of Stantien & Becker, who own and operate the greatest amber mines in the world, the Anna and the Palmnicken, located on the north coast of the Baltic sea, which furnishes over 90 per cent of the amber sold to the markets of the world, said recently to a reporter: “Our firm supplies over 90 per cent of the amber and amberoid sold in the markets of Europe, Great Britain, Asia, Japan, China and America. Amberoid is the re- sult of small pieces of amber compressed into one solid mass by hydraulic pressure. We employ in our mines and manufactur- ing processes about 2,000 people, who pre- pare our products for the market, ready for the manufacturer. We make no manu- factured goods. Our output is the crude material and amounts annually to about $1,000,000." Mr. Becker then exhibited an elegant cigarette holder of whitish amber ornamented with gold. “This little holder,” said h ‘exclusive of its mountings, is worth $s." Continuing, he said: ery little of the real amber is shipped to the United States. Most of that which is called amber here is oniy am- beroid, Amber is the gum of a conifer or evergreen tree, but of what species no one knows. It belonged to the first period of vegetation of the earth. No one knows in what clime these trees grew, and no fossil traces of them are left for the geologist. It is not improbable that they produced amber and were stately trees millions of years ago. We have certgin traces, how- ever, that give us an excellent idea of the time the gum left the parent tree, such insects and particles of vegetable matter, entombed in amber and faithfully preserved to this modern time. “By the way, it might be of certain in- tetest for me to give you briefly the theory of Dr. R. Klebs of Konigsberg as to amber, He is the highest authority on this subject in the world. He say$ there are 2,000 differ- ent varieties of insects found imprisoned in amber, and this gives us a pretty correct idea of the fauna in the remote age in which they lived. They gave us, besides, evidences of that period of which’ we have no other trace. It is very interesting to compare these insects with those now ex- isting, as the common fly, for example. Others, again, are entirely different, show- ing extinct species. Dr. Klebs’ theory is that the amber was carried to East Prussia during the glacial epoch and imbedded in the blue earth where it is found. This blue earth is a very heavy clay, and the strata vary in thickness from three to twenty- seven feet. Dr. Klebs considers that this imbedding process occurred in what geolo- gists term the tertiary period. “The right to mine amber or to take it from the sea dates back to the time the first knights who colonized East Prussia appeared—in the fifteenth century. They had <he primary right to mine. Subsequent- ly the right merged in the government, which granted the privilege to private par- ties for an annual consideration. My firm pays the Prussian government every year 1,000,000 marks for the right, which equals about $250,000 In your money. We mine and market between eighty and ninety dif- ferent sizes of amber for shipping. The largest and most perfect specimens are made into mouthpieces for pipes, &c., and the smaller pieces are made into the beauti- ful amber varnish, which is largely used in the interiors of steamships, railroad coaches and on fine furniture.” coe Of Some Use. From Puck. Old Gotrox (to his fashionable son).— “You and your set thoroughly disgust me. You could along as well without a head as with one. Algy. — “Aw—fawther—how wediculous! Why, wheah would a fellah weah his hat?” —— Peopte with hair that Is continually falling out, or those that are bald, ean stop the falling, and get a geod growtn of hair by using Hall's Hair Keuewer. THE USE OF FIBERS! Novel Materials for Textile Fabrics Recommended by Uncle Sam. PRODUCTION OF PINEAPPLE FIBER An Industry That Will Likely Be Successful in Florida. QUEER SOURCES OF SUPPLY ———_-—__—_. Written for The Evening Star. HE GOVERNMENT is making great ef- forts to create a pop- ular interest in American fibers. Of such materials in the raw the United States ‘mports $50,000,000, worth annually, though it is reckoned that one-half of that quantity could be pro- duced in this country just as well. The other half is derived from vegetable species which could not be cultivated profitably here, climate and soil being unsuitable, Seeing immense profits ahead, inventors and capitalists are turning their attention to the making of machinery for obtaining fibers from various plants which the farmers will supply as soon as manufacturers demand them. Meanwhile Uncle Sam ts circulating information far and wide on the subject, telling what kinds of leaves and stalks will yield the most suit- able stuff for cordage, twine and ali sorts of textile fabrics, ‘The Pineapple as a Fiber Producer. The fiber bureau at Washington, under the direction of Expezt Charles Richards Dodge, has great hopes of the pineapple as @ fiber producer in this country, In Florida the fruit is grown on a large scale, byt the leaves are thrown away—thousands of tons of them annually. It is a frightful waste, for they can be made to yleld one of the most valuable fibers known. In India pine- apple fiber is woven into the most delicate of all vegetable ftabrics—the celebrated “pina.” The latter looks like gossamer and is so light that it will almost float in the air when tossed up. For making it the fibers are laboriously separated by hand, the ends being glued together so as to make @ continuous thread. They can be spun like flax. At the same time, they are wonder- fully strong, and there is record of an inch Tope formed of them that stood a strain of 5,700 pounds before breaking. The pineap- ple, by the way, is believed to have been originally a native of the Brazils, from whence it was carried all over the world. The Sisal. The cultivation of another Plant—namely, sisal hemp—for the fiber yielded by its leaves is already promising to develop into a great industry in Florida. Every year we import from Yucatan 35,000,000 worth of this kind of fiber, which can be produced just as well and of better quality in the peninsular state, south of the frost line. The sisal Srows readily in the poorest and rockiest soll, which cannot be farmed profitably for anything else. Apart from its commercial Value,it is one of the most interesting plants in the world. It is a bush of huge green bayonet-shaped leaves, When about six years old it sends up from its middle with great rapidity a stalk or mast twenty;five feet high and three inches in diameter. From the upper half of this stalk small branches grow out, each branch bearing tulip-shaped blossoms. The flowers do not smell pleasantly, their odor being described as resembling the bouquet of a mouse in an advanced stage of decomposition under the floor, How It Grows. Presently the blossoms wither, the petals drop off, and in their place leaves appear. Within a few days, where each flower was, a complete little sisal plant has developed, attached to an extremity of the parent stem. When mature it drops to the ground, and, if it manages to come into contact with the mother earth, proceeds to take root and be- come a growth like its progenitor. This method of reproduction is found in no plant Save the sisal and a few of its near rela- tives. As many as 1,000 small plants may be gathered from a single stalk as they ripen. They are remarkably tenacious of life and will retain their vitality® for months out of the ground. Plantations of sisal practically take care of themselves. The fiber yielded by the leaves is superb mater- jal for cordage, binding-twine and other purposes. There {is an allied species which looks so much like the sisal as to be easily mistaken for it. It is called the “false sisal.” Speculators, more ingenious than honest, have sold large numbers of the false plants to growers in Florida. They are ut- terly valueless, How the Fiber is Obtained. What are known as the “leaf fibers,” like sisal and pineapple, are the bones of the leaves, so to speak, which support and keep tn shape the fleshy vegetal structure. To obtain the fiber, the leaves are usually crushed, beaten and washed in water, thus separating the pulpy parts and leay- ing the skeletal system. The skeleton parts of the leaves of many plants serve for weaving into fabrics. Some of the most beautiful lace in the world, called Fayal lace, is made in the Azores from the fibers of the leaves of the bitter aloe, which is allied to the century plant. It is man- ufactured by women, and such a high or- der of skill is required to produce it that only about twenty-five persons on the is- ‘ands a®e able to make it. having practiced the art from childhood, It fetches an enor- mous price in Paris. Other commercial fi- bers, like ramie, are obtained from plant stalks. The fiber known as cotton is an envelope which nature provides for the protection of the seed. By cultivation the quantity of it contained in each seed-boll is greatly increased. The Remarkable Ramie. Ramie is the most remarkable of the new fiber-producing plants. Its cultivation is likely to become eventually one of the fore- most agricultural industries of the United States. All that is required to bring this about 1s a satisfactory machine for separ- ating the fiber economically. No contri- vance that will accomplish this cheaply has as yet been devised. Consequently the stuff is nowhere produced on a commer- celal basis at present except in Japan, where labor is procurable for next to nothing. The Japanese separate the fiber by hand and dry it on the roofs of their houses. One man_can thus prepare two pounds a day. The fiber is worth 81-2 cents a pound here; but the supply is so limited that no manvfacturer could buy enough of it to go into business with. In France millions of dollars have been spent in efforts to render ramie available for the many purposes to which It is adapted. It ean be raised in unlimited quantities at small expense, but the difficulty of separ- ating the fiber is an obstacle yet to be sur- unted. "The plant belongs to the nettle family and is sometimes called the “stingless net- tle.” It is also known as China grass, hav- ing been cultivated in that country from time immemorial. The fiber fs in the bark of the stalk, which has a pithy center. It is very beautiful, Nght, strong as silk and will not mildew. From it all sorts of ex- quisite fabrics are made, counterfeiting silk and the finest linen, as well as laces for curtains, muslins, dress goods, plushes and handsome and serviceable carpets. It has been suggested as a future material for yacht sails. on account of its lightness and streneth. Ramie thrives in the gulf states and California. One acre of it a year old will produce 27,000 pounds of stripped stalks ready for machine. A firm in Salem, Mass., has devised a plan for reducing the fibrous parts of the plants into a wool-like sub- stance, from which nice yarns for certain classes of manufacture are produced. For the sake of encouraging farmers to culti- vate it California has offered a bounty on this fiber. Cultivation of Flax. It 1s thought that flax might be raised with profit by American farmers. Up to forty years ago it was grown all over the United States—chilefly by coumtry people for their own use, to be spun or woven in the household. In some parts of the south a little linen is still made on primitive looms. This domestic manufacture was discon- tinued chiefly owing to the invention of the cotton gin, which so cheapened cotton that the latter was substituted for flax. There are a few mills in this country which make coarse e crash toweling and cord- age out of flax fiber, getting most of their raw material from Canada and Russia. Over 1,000,000 acres of flax are grown in this country for seed alone, the fiber being wasted. The fiber from plants cultivated for this purpose is coarse, because the seed is sown thinly. The more seed sown to the cae the finer the straw and the better the r. The cultivation of flax in Europe, and the spinning and weaving by primitive looms of fine linen, would seem to antedate his- tory. As far back as the stone age, the in- habitants of Switzerland id Lombardy, living in huts and feeding on roots and acorns, were familiar, in a crude way, with this industry. Historical memoirs prove that the ancient Hindoos and Egyptians produc- ed flax, the former for its seed, the latter, about 5,000 years ago, for its thread. The old Egyptian linen was very fine and beauti- ful. The use of fibers by American aborig- ines goes so-far back into the past that there are no records to show when their employment began. Among the Aztecs fibers from palm leaves and various species of agaves were woven into cloths, cords, ropes and mats in prehistoric times. Im Various Lands. Many of the fibers used in various parts of the world are derived from curious sources, From the seed-pods of the calotro- pis gigantea the*natives of Java obtain a silky stuff like cotton, resembling flax and very strong. It is called “kahok.’ They Prepare it with their hands and feet, and from It manufacture bow-strings and traps for tigers. A good deal of it is exported to Hollang for upholstery material, The Mexi- cans make a species of silk-cotton, twisted in soft yarn, into candle-wicks. This sort of wick leaves no ash, its combustion being perfect. Having no felting property, the fiber cannot be spun. The same people mak: cordage and cigarette-wrappers out of the inner bark of certain trees, From comes a “ table hair” which looks much like horsehair. It is ob- tained from the leaves of @ palmetto similar to the scrub palmetto which grows wild all over Florida and Georgia. In those states the production of this kind of fiber may become an industry some day. It is good for stuffing mattresses and furniture. The famous esparto grass is derived from th same part of Africa. It yields a fiber that is most importantly useful for paper-making, though also employed for baskets, hats, mats, ropes and nets. Spanish shepherds Weave it so closely that vessels made of it will hold liquids. Probably it would not be practicable to cultivate the eaparto grass in this country,because the labor of harvest- ing it is too great. It grows in tufts and has to be plucked up. Free-born Americans will not bend their backs unless they are handsomely paid for it. From Palms. Useful fibers obtained from palms are of endless variety. Among them is the well- known “coir,” from which cocoa matting is made. This is taken from the husk of the cocoanut and is shipped to market twisted into long ropes. The industry of preparing it 1s of great importance in Ceylon. For- merly it was separated by burying the husks for many months in pits, where they Were subjected to rotting by sea water. Many fibers used for brushes come from palms. One kind, from Ceylon, is called “kittool.” It is from the leaves, the fleshy parts of which are rotted away by the rains, so that the stout fibers forming thi leaf skeletons hang down in bunches and are easily cut off. They are utilized to make ropes for tying elephants. The same tree produces palm wine, sugar and a kind of sago, from which the natives prepare a dish resembling oatmeal. The brushes of the street-sweeping ma- chines used in London and Paris are made from a palm fiber resembling kittool, only coarser, and obtained in the same way. This species furnishes material for bridges in some parts of South America. An im- portant commercial fiber from South Amer- ica is got from the roots of a kind of grass. It is largely used for brooms. The Mexi- can natives make a superb fiber from the century plant. Being very elastic, it has n recommended for hawsers,which would not be nearly so likely to snap as the ordi- nary Manilla hemp. The “ixtle’ or “tam- pico” of Mexico allied to the century plant and affords a fiber which is imported in considerable quantities into this country for use instead of bristles ‘for brushes. The finest quality brings $500 a ton, This plant grows wild on arid table lands, where no other living thing can find moisture enough to sustain existence. Manilla hemp is a variety of the banana. Spanish moss, which hangs in festoons from trees in the south, belongs to the same or- der as the pineapple, oddly enough. It is an air plant, but not a parasite, as is com- monly supposed. One reason for the mis- conception in this regard is that it is most luxuriant on dead trees, because its own agg is not interfered with by foliage. It is utilized as a commercial fiber, being treated in masses with chemicals, which rot off its outer covering, or bark. After being dried it Jooks like horsehair and is called “vegetable hair.” 200 TWO HOPELESS CASES. Humorous Incidents Connected With Grim and Horrible Accident. Tke Pall Mall Budget recently recalled the fact that August had brought about the one hundred and ejeventh anniversary of the loss of the Royal George, and tells again an absurd anecdote connected with the tragedy. When it was announced that the ship had gone down, with some four hundred men, women and children, the first feeling was one of incredulity, which speedily gave way to horror and grief. But even such a period of consternation had its grimly humorous side. The father of Lieut. Durham, who was on board the ship, recetved a letter, and on reading it burst Into tears. To the inquiries of his family as to the cause of his grief, he re- plied in a broken voice: “The Royal George has foundered, and our dear Peter is drowned.” A general outburst of tears greeted the announce- ment, but presently it occurred to some one to ask: “Who has written to tell you, papa?” “Why, Peter, to be sure!” ? Why, then he is saved!" answered the old gentleman, groan- ing again, “He is such a liar that no one can believe a word he says!” It proved that Lieut. Durham had swum to the rigging, after the ship sank, and was saved. This was the officer to whom had said, when he was leaving home for the navy: “Remember one thing, Peter. Never tell a lie!” Peter seemed somewhat surprised at the admonition, and his father added: “Always remember that you never heard 7 bg Ld a a R “Zooks, father!’ rep! eter, promptly. “What a lar you are!” ai. v8 +o+—____ Wouldn’t Be an Englishman. From the Boston Budget. Bluffkins wandered in at the club the oth- er night and drew his chair close to the fire. “I wouldn't be an Englishman for any- thing!” he ejaculated. ‘They have the most gluttonous appetites on record.” “You cawn’t prove that, bah Jove!” said Mr. Algernon Hawkins, who lived on chops and swore by her majesty. “I can,” replied Biuffkins, with unruftied composure, “and here is the proof. 1 was riding home in an electric car last night. ‘Two Englishmen sat next to me. ‘1 ‘ave just bought a stove,’ sald one. ‘So ‘ave 1,’ said the other. ‘But mine is the best on earth; it cooks my breakfast in ‘alf an hour,’ said the first. ‘Jove!’ said the second, ‘that isn’t anything. 1 can ‘eat my stove in five minutes.’ ” And even Mr. Algernon Hawkins acknowl- edged the Englishman did have a pretty solid appetite. is father Another Labor-Saving Invention. From Puck. Dusty Rhodes.—Fer th’ love of heaven! Weary, what you got there?” Weary Waiker.—‘“Just swiped "em from a dago down in the village. Greatest scheme I've struck yet—only have to use yer legs to steer by, and ye can go to sleep movin’ along.” Some of the Queer Dens in Which Students Live. THE MANY TROPHIES THAT FILL THEM You May Tell a Man's Tastes by His Furniture. A HAPPY FOUR YEARS Written for The Evening Star. STUDENTS ROOM has a flavor of its own, It is unique in its style, and can only be found 12 its true style in coliege and university towns. The rooms where Tom Brown passed his stormy ‘varsity course at Oxford may be seen any day at Harvard, Yale or a Gozen other places. You will find the same pipes and lounges, the same Ciceros and Livys, with their invariable “horses” and “trots;” the same pictures and boxing Sloves, the same pictures of sisters and actresses. All is there. Even dainty tea trays have their cups and saucers next to heavy ale mugs, and thin wine glassca, just as in Tom Brown's room. These main features are always to be found, though each college has its peculiar style and tra- ditions of the correct style in furnishings. An average student’s room is a queer looking place. It is more like an old shop of curios than anything else. Nowhere else will you see the invariable display of books, with the invariable show of Sporting goods. Something always strikes your attenticn ‘There is @ mixture of the serious, the ludi- crous and the athletic. You never know just where to place your student or which has the more prominent place, a book case of big, dull-looking folios or some gay pic- ture of ballet dancers, which stares you ja the face as you enter. Is the pretty tea table the place where the student quenches his thirst, or do those German beer muzs go the rounds of daily duty in his eager grasp? Is that comfortable-looking desk- chair the one chiefly used, or is it ihat leather-covered easy chair, with the soft silk cushions and pillows in it? There is a grand conglomeration. This oddity, this in- tense suggestion of varied interests, this collection of trophies, this feeling of being in a man’s den, is what forms the college Toom’s charm. The one invariable sign, the sent mark of a room in which students’ dwell, is @ desk. In some shape or another it is always there. Books, too, may be usually found. It is only on the rarest occasions that you do not see any. One man at Har- vard no less than 3,000 arranged aroun] his room. The lew and medical students have big leather-bound professional voi- umes, but the average undergraduate con- fines himself to text books and some sets of standard authors. Indeed, the taste shown by most coll: pected, is very good. are very popular spite of signs in the them, they do a big business. er once said that he thought every Har- vard man would average 200 book: apiece, making a total library among the under- Sraduates of 600,000 volumes. The College Pipe. A word must be said about Pipes. Col- lege men claim English bulldog and briar Pipes as their favorites. Cigars are too ex- pensive to smoke, cigarettes are unsatisfac- tory, but the pipe is just right. It has a sociable look and it makes a pleasant and cheap smoke. Whether a man smokes him- self or not makes little difference. If he has no tobacco table he lays his pipes and tobacco jar anywhere around the room, if only it is within easy reach. Near the pipes are kept the eatables. Fruit, crackers, cheese, something is always at hand. You can pretty often find a case of beer in the closet and a punch bowl stowed away some- where. Many is the night that a Welsh rarebit is improvised or the students gather around the “flowing bowl,” making che cea gd ring with the praises of their sJma mater. All college men show in their rooms one or two sporting tastes in common. If their varsity eleven has beaten Yale or Prince- ton or you may be sure to find a picture of the victorious team. This pictor- ial display of the college heroes is carried to all degrees. Freshmen especially in- dulge in it and have not only all their class teams framed and hung, but the “varsity as well. Then they can point and talk fa- miliarly about “Bum” McClung or “Bert” Waters or “Laurie” Bliss. Flags of Yale blue or Harvard crimson or Princeton's orange and black are another taste indulg- ed in universally. Who ever saw a college room without a flag? You might as well expect to go to a foot ball game on Thanks- giving day and not see any colors shown. One fond Eli keeps a rather soiled-look! blue silk handkerchief hung high out of reach over a picture of a Yale crew of the eighties. It was worn by his brother when sowing men i handkerchiefs instead of caps, in a winning race against Harvard, and has been carried to every race since tied to a stick and waved for the victorivus crew. In "91, when Harvard won, for the first time in years, the blue silk flag was not carried, as its owner was suddenly tak- en sick. So it is still a mascot for Yale, in which its owner has implicit faith, and is cherished as only a college man can cherish a bit of silk having the destiny of his alma mater, as he believes, at stake. While flags and ‘varsity pictures are seen everywhere, most other vary. Tom Brown would see vy; few cricket bats in our college rooms, he would find lots of fencing foils, boxing gloves, base ball bats, tennis rackets, dumb bells and Indian clubs crossed in artistic order or strewn about at haphazard. Even dogs, from mastiffs to terriers, are part of the room’s furniture, according to the own- er’s tastes. Horses are kept by only a few college men. One Harvard undergraduate, a well-known gentleman-rider from Balti- big yellow, hold them up. The display of west- ern frontier life, cowboys’ lariats and sombreros, big six-shooters and Winchester rifles, is peculiarly American, Nearly all westerners have roughed it somewhat on the plains and have brought back trophies of ranch life. The eastern men, on the other hand, have plenty of revolvers and shot guns, but no cowboy goods. Some- times they have stuffed game or trophies like alligator skins from Florida or moose’s antlers from Maine placed around their rooms. The Athletic Side. You can usually tell at a glance what ts the student's favorite sport. One man has an oar hung high up on the wall, marked “Champions’ Class Races, May 12, 1892; stroke.” Above the oar is the stroke’s dingy green and white rowing cap, and the oar is hung by ribbons of his class color. Of all kinds of sport you may see the signs, The greatest prizes are cups and medals. The big silver and pewter mugs are invariably placed on the mantel. There they attract the eye, and the dust from the fireplace as well, but the “goody” has strict orders to keep them burnished and polished, Tom Brown himself would be surprised to see the number of cups our modern cham- pions gain. Sometimes the mantel is not large enough and the tables, desks, book- cases are used. If medals, too, have been won in hard fought fights on cinder track or diamond or gridiron field or river, these rest in their rich velvet boxes or are attach- ed to portieres and flags of the college color. There is at Harvard, one little fellow, who has broken several world’s records, in short dashes, and in the hop, skip and jump, E. B. Bloss, and his room in Matthew's Hall.is literally filled with trophies. There are cups stowed away in every nook of the room, the place sparkies with them. Medals, too. he has in very large numbers, Some are large, made of solid gold, won in Harvard-Yale contests, or the intercollegiate. Other gold ones bear the unicorn head, with the blue and yellow ribbon, the colors of the Boston Athletic Club. He has tall mugs and short mugs, mugs with handles, and mugs with- out handles. In fact, his room is simply a| curiosity shop of cups, mugs and medals. No student's room’ is complete without some mementoes from the ladies. He may be a great favorite and have his window pics mich wih seander Hp-coettren, meant to use in pillow dents are devotees of the foot lights have souvenirs of all kinds. One youth the whole side of his room with the framed pictures of every prominent actress Boston for the past three win' has his bed room covered, not walls, but the ceiling, with grams. are only a few tract general attention from tions of girls’ souvenirs. One man he calls “My Gallery of Beauties,” of photographs extending around all collected from his home in Chicago. A Favorite Fad. ‘The chief trophies of a student in the of knick-knacks sre not so much those | feminine as of a strictly masculine kina. Every room has something in the way of sport,whether a print of an English chase or a pair of Indian dumb bells. owner’s tastes are responsible ‘for decorations, their absence or presence. favorite modern fad is the signs. Many ts the chase that have given some bold man whom saw ambling along with a nice tucked away under his arm. coated officers of the law in a town very suspicious, Bet left In thelr omclous ater @ student. It is a favorite vard how all the Boston police crazy with anger by three of vards.” These youths if ? j i @ FF oe i An weigiee i 3 i H g as i it thrown in. ‘heir four life is a privilege enjoyed by only a and one on which, in after life, always look back ly. So enjoy their life in peace, and aaare = their ~ gy with whatever may ought helpful their pleasure and comfort. ARTHUR F. COSBY. From Harper's Bazar. — <> TII.—Caution is the better part of valon VI.—Husband (after the departure of the @onor). “Hurrah! the cigars are ruined! my life is saved!” | POR NERVOUS PROSTRATION ‘ae Horsford’s Acid Phosphate. Dr. GREGORY DOYLE, Syracuse, N.¥., says “4 have frequeutly prescribed it in cases | Mon andi nervous prostration and nd the “ satisfactory Unat I shall continue its use”