Evening Star Newspaper, April 14, 1894, Page 19

STYLES FOR BOYS Dame Fashion Does Not Give All Her Attention to Girls, HOW BOYS CAN BE PICTURESQUE, 100 The Witchery of Clothes is Not Alone for Feminine Juveniles. MOUNTAINS AND SEASHORE Written Exclusively for The Evening Star... HE SMALL BOY IS quite as capable of being made pictur- esque as his wee sis- ters, and the spring and summer styles for the little gentle- men seem especially designed to bring out and emphasize that fact. Light and bright colors are to reign supreme during the coming season for boys whose a @ange from five to eleven years. A sult just completed for a little boy of mine, who spends his vacation at the sea- side, is shown in the first sketch. It is made of bright scarlet cloth, the long, bag- sleeves and knickerbockers being an en- iy new fashion. The big sailor collar, ‘which reaches half way down the back, {s of white duck, while the vest is of -he sam material, crossed by rows of black silk braid. The ribbon bow, silver-buckled belt and stockings are black, snd the hat is an extremely broad-brimmed white straw sail- or. ‘The effect, which I acknowledge counds @ little bit startling, is utterly bewitching. If a less expensive garment be desired, it ‘will be quite as pretty if made in other ma- terlais and combinations; for instaace, of white duck, with bright red collar and red and white striped vest, or navy blue flan- nel, with white trimmings—either one of these would be pretty, s' ‘The Easy-Fitting Reefer. ‘The next illustration shows a style which % already popular with the little ones as ‘well as their mothers—the easy-fitting reefer. It ts particularly serviceable when made of English cheviot, with bindings of black silk braid and a simple finish of black stitching. ‘The buttons should be large ones of smoked pearl, and the trousers must reach but half ‘way over the knee. Shovid a pair of ten- colored leggings be added, and a wide- brimmed hat of English felt, the ,eneral effect is still more picturesque. Here Are Velveteens. ‘The third picture shows a comfortable lit- it of brown ve! ented blouse being made with three box plaits in the back and two in front. These Plaits are made only as long as the waist, the fullness from them providing all that is Necessary for the skirt, w the belt, which, by the way, is of tan leather. Loose knickerbockers, reaching to the knee, com- plete the costume. Of course, the leggings are accessories which may easily be Gis- Pensed with, but they are extremely stylish and add much to the you pearance. The iittie au insist upen being pro O'Shanter of russet leather. but show his app ation of and universally becoming h. doubtless, and with ev Totest against allow ng enough to be er the ears, b with a Tam ii so, he will a fashionable igear. He will reater energ! hair to grow The Farnticroy Suit. The fourth sketch is the graceful little Wauntleroy suit. Li is pretty in any com- teen, the very long-| | ont bination of material, but particularly so of cream flannel—with ecru lace collar and cuffs, and sash of crimson silk; black cloth or velvet, with black or crimson sash, are also most artistic combinations. Of course, a wide-brimmed hat must be worn, set well back on the head. If the suit be made of white flannel, red stockings and slippers matching the sash should be worn —otherwise, black stockings and slippers are used. It is quite impossible to stop before describing a few of the lovely gowzs which have recently been finished for some of my wee girl sweethearts. Empire or Mother Hubbard. ‘JOHN BULL’S CASTLE Conveniences of English Homes as Compared With American. PHASES OF THE SERVANT GIRL QUESTION The Bed Rooms Are Cheerless, but the Drawing Rooms Gorgeous. HEARTY, SINCERE HOSTS Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. HEN AN ENG- glishman returns home after a visit to America he has al- ways much to say in regard to our American methods of keeping house, de- claring that we have no comforts or proper home life, for servants, we do not know what a good servant is. It was to discover just what English home life really was, as well The next filustration shows a little gown a, to find out something concerning the which is the very perfection of dainty sim- plicity. The style is what a fashionable modiste would term “Empire,” but a less enlightened person would, with homelie: phraseology, but perhaps greater accuracy, call it simply a Mother Hubbard. At any rate, the material (a thin silk, in stripes of palest rose and white) hangs straight and very full fiom a yoke, which is concealed by an immense collar and reveres of silk, finished about the edge with a full ruffle of delicate lace. The more than generously proportioned eves are drawn into short cuffs of plaited silk, and finished by the narrow puffing made by the unconfined plaits. Pale pink stockings and white slippers are worn with this charming dress. For ordinary, every-day wear, the pattern is equally pretty if made of more serviceable materials—‘!Imost any quality of goods, from light-weight woolens to India muslin, being available, the V-shaped opening at the throat being fille? in with a guimpe— should heavy materials be used for the dress. Also an Empire. The next one is of ivory white silk with silver threads woven into very stripes. This is also “Empire.” being formed of ivory-white chiffon puff- ings, alternating with narrow narrow of silver cording. a deep ruffe of silver embroidered chiffon. Great puffed sleeves, reaching to the elbow and finished by ruffles of chiffon, complete the fairy-like creaiton. This {s another design which may be artistically developed in different materials, and would be es- pecially charming in any of the delicate summer fabrics. Attractive as a Spring Wrap. The last sketch is a picturesque adapta- tion of the Russian pelisse—for a spring wrep—a light-weight quality of ladies’ cloth is the most desirable—and the in- expensive moss trimming nish. The fronts are made without seams r darts, but the back fits tightly to the figure to the waist line—from there the skirt is laid tn two triple box plaits. The smaller cape has but a slight fuliness, and is edged with the trimming. The lower one is very full, and is finished with several rows of machine stitching. The sleeves are very full and large, with up trimming above the edge—the lower cuff fitting snugly, and covering the wrist en- tirely, the quaint head-covering is made with a crown of softly puffed black silk, and a wide brim of stifly wired lace. picturesque effect is heightened by generous rosettes of lace, placed amongst the folds of silk. B. V. K. eee A Waste Paper Basket. A very pretty and economic waste paper basket, for use at the desk or in one’s own recom, can be made out of the common mar- ket basket, which costs only 5 cents when new. answer just as well. If you have some widths of old silk, they will make a nice covering, but if you have no old material that will answer, get some cotton crepon or bunting—cnough to go once and a haif around the basket, and deep enough to ad- mit of being turned down to form a rufile et the top. Ling the inside with cambric | | quite | black from then wind the| wealthy the ranges have been torn out and replaced at great expense by what is called | or silk—a smeoth, sick lining is best—using @ coicr that will harmonize nicely with the material on the vutside; handie witn tae two colors and make a big bow to go on the top. Cover the bottum with canvas or some other equaily servic- able material. If you want something very dainty and pretty, cover the basket, smooth- uside and out with such bright color of as suits your fancy, then make for itside a full covering ‘of white Swiss or cotton blonde. This outside can easily be removed to wash it, because it need be basted to the lining. The basket is not ‘d to cover, because the splints are so thin that they can be easily penetrated | With a large needle The yoke rows of plain silk, overlaid by a delicate network j ‘The yoke terminates iny is an effective! two cuffs—the | one being double, with a band of | The| An old one, whea scrubbed up, will | merits and demerits of Efglish servants, that I recently put on a “cap and apron” and descended into certain London base- ments, disguised as a housemaid and a par- lor maid. Now, John Bull is very fond of quoting the saying that ‘An Englishman's house is his castle," and when my expe- riences were published in a London journal |he indignantly resented my exploit as an in- | vasion of his “castle,” while Mrs. John Bull and the Misses John Bull have accused me jef meddling with their private affairs and | telling tales about them. Up to the pres- ent I have not been able to convince them that I went into the affair without any malice aforethought. During my career as an amateur domestic | saw nothing to ind vate that the English home had any advarcages over the Ameri- can home. So far as I can see, the typical London house is built upon the principle of making everything as inconvenient and everybody as uncomfortable as possible. Away down under the ground is the base- ment, dark and dismal, where the servants live In a vain endeavor to catch a glimmer of God's sunlight through the area win- dow. The English basement differs from the American basement as night differs from day. The high stone steps of the New York house take the first floor far above the pavement, and leave the basement on a level with the ground. In London the base- ment is a cellar, usually floored over with stones. In every well-regulated house these stones are daily rubbed over with other stones, calied “soap stones,” which process is said to whiten them. I suppose it does whiten them, but I am not sure. It is too dark to see. The front steps of the house are also whitened with the soap stone. It all looks very pretty until the poodle and the pug go out for a constitutional in the London weather, and when they return make a sort of spatter work before the Goor. The steps that descend from the pavement to the area are narrow and steep, and are seidom boarded underneath. When I was a housemaid I Jived in daily terror of being obliged to have my legs amputated, so often di? I lose my balance and get my feet caugut in the apertures between the steps. To go up and down such area steps requires more practice and skill than Jacob needed to climb his celebrated ladder. The Catch-All of the Seutlery. There is a little cave-like room in all London basements where the gas is ever ; burning. It is called the “sculle Here j the “dirty work’ is done, such as the wash- ing of dishes, scouring knives, scrubbing pots and pans and brushing the boots. It is a kind ef stopping place for dirt and greas: Into the scullery is carried, after each din- ner, the immense “spit” used for roasting, and there it is cleaned, or rather supposed to be cleaned. On the scullery table there is a dish rack into which the dishes are placed after washing, where they “drain” for half a day, when they are taken out and given what is called a “polishing.” Wiping dishes as it is done in America is aft u heard of thing in typical English house- holds. What wonder that the mistresses are constantly complaining that their most beautiful and expensive china {s always nicked and cracked, when it is subjected to such treatment! The scouring of knives is considered a very important part of the household work. In a New York house the cook rubs up the steel knives in a Jiffy as she washes them, but here the knife-cieaning process is a real- ly solemn occasion. The “scullery maid presides over a queer-looking machine, and, with much ado, amid the turning of cran @_ wheel and handle and leather, the nives are made ready for the table. For the cleaning of six knives an hour's time is required. In houses where no scullery maid it kapt there fs continual fighting and bick- ering as to whose place it is to perform this piece of domestic labor. I was one evening at a dinner where we were all kept waiting for a certain course because it happened there were not knives enough to go around until some were cleaned, and, although there were four servants in the house, each declared it was “not her place” to do that work, and the cook had to be given a shil- ing to induce her to rub off three knives nglish upper servants look upon knife omething degrading, fit only je lowest drudge from the slums to do. Some time ago I about to engage a cook for our home, when the girl startled me with the question, “Who cleans the knives?” “Why, vou would do It, of course,” I answered. “Thank you, miss, but I haven't come to that yet,” was the reply of the young woman as she bowed herself in- dignantly out of the door, I have since learned that the mistress of a small house- j hold who does not keep a scullery matd to assist the cook is always in terror lest the knives shall go uncieaned. Yet Mr. Kipling jand many other English critics are eve pitying our “poor, worn-out American wiv! with their heip that is no help.” My sym- pathies are much more with the English mistress, unless she has a mint of money to | support a horde of servants. She is a slave to the whims and caprices of her maids, and | she is more handicapped than her American | cousin in that she knows little about house- j work. The American woman can, in an emergency, scour her own knives, while the typical English matron is quite ignorant of how to set the cumbersome knife machine 1n motion. The Boots Must Be Cleaned. There is just 2s much trouble about the boots. “Who brushes the boots?” asks the English girl, when she is ubout to take a place. This work is also considered as beneath tl.> dignity of a first-class servant. Every night, outside each bed room door, the boots of the occupar® stand sentinel, sma gear. task to clean and polish all the foot If a man servant or a page boy is he does the boots, as a matter of but if the staf is composed of fe- males, there is strife and contention below In the American house this bug- bear is unknown. The masier, unless he has a valet, g¢ to a street corner and gets a “shine,” while the ladies of the family would not think of having thelr shoes done with box blacking. Then, too, our streets are not so muddy as the London streets, and our shoes do not need such constant brushing to keep them presenta- ble. An American woman through a London house is at once struck with the enti absence of modern con- veniences for accomplishing domestic work. The kitchen range is an antediluvian affair, | with no covering for the top, so that in the process of cooking the kettles and pans | must hang over the fire. They get covered with the soot from the soit coal, which sometimes even works its way under the lids. In washing the cooking utensils it is impessible to entirely remove this them. In the houses of the a “kitchener,” something after the order of our American stoves. Only occasionally is there to be found u “dummy” connecting the kitchen with the dining room, so that much of the servants’ time is spent in running up and down stairs. Stationary washstands, with hot and cold running water, in the bed rooms are unknown luxuries. I was recently speaking of thi: tnconvenience to a young and supposedis progressive Englishman. Said he: “What when you can ring a bell and have a [es the use of those things in a bed room, while as) and, if the family is a large one, it is no) on first going} |human machine in the form of a house- maid fetch up the hot water? Some- times the hot and cold water faucets get out of order, but the housemaid is always ready with the water can. The housemaid’s cupboard is usueliy set out with a dozen or more of these red or yellow painted watering pots. Three times @ day each member of the family must be supplied with one, and sometimes the hot water must be carried up four or five flights of stairs! Comparatively few Lon- | don houses have bath rooms, and so with | each bed room there goes a tin basin called a “hip bath,” shaped like an arm chair. It holds about a gallon of water and part of a person, and just how any one can manage to take a bath in it has always been a mystery to me. There is something weird and uncanny about the zppearance of these tubs. But the English people are greatly attached to them, probably because they have been in existence since time immemorial, and it is an English custom to show respect to the relics of antiquity. Discomforts of the Bed Room. Although there are gas pipes in most of the London houses, fixtures are not put into all the rooms, and most of the bed rooms are lighted by candiés. I have never been able to understand how a proper toilet can be wade by the light of two or three candles. Nothing can be more bare and uncomfort- able than the ordinary London bed room. The dressing table is always placed directly in the window, and the back of it makes a most unsightly appearance from the front | of the house. ‘The first thing { noticed when |1_saw the outside of Buckingham Palace was the long row of bed room windows with a dressing table standing in each one. Our useful and ornamental American bureau is not known here, although in every bed room there is a “chest of drawers” for clothes ;and a wardrobe is, of course, one of the necessary pieces of furniture, since there are few hanging closets. Many of the beds by the younger members of the family. Sometimes the bed rooms are carpeted, but often only a few rugs are laid about. Eng- lish people think of a bed room as a place to sleep in and get out of as soon as possi- ble. I do not wonder. It is cold and dreary without even so much as a couch upon which to rest. ‘There is no choice but to sit in a straight backed chair or go to bed. Bed room fires are enly indulged in by the wealthy, In the winter the majority of Londoners dress and undress ina hurry with teeth chatcering and hands purple with the cold. And yet half of them are so used to it that they don’t realize how very un- comfortable they are. In America we take infinite pains to make our bed rooms as pretty and comfortable as our drawing rooms. beautiful draperies, pictures, plants, folding beds, looking glasses, easy chairs, soft, springy couches and bright carpets turn them into boudoirs where we can lounge about in supreme laziness and in- difference to all the world. But the English bed room! Let us leave it as quickly as possible. Out in the halls dur- ing the winter season we shiver and shake while making our descent to the drawing room, Once there, we understand why the other rooms are so bare. Peter has been robbed to pay Paul. The drawing room is elegant with gilded mirrors, costly paint- ings, inlaid cabinets and expensive bric-a- brac. More money has been expended in furnishing this one room than it takes to fit up a whole house for one of our well-to- do American families. In our country the people who would here be called the “mid- dle classes” strive to make their homes con- venient and pleasant from the kitchen to the attic. in England the same class of people use every endeavor to ornament the drawing room at the expense of the rest of the house. Yet, with ail their expenditure, they do not get what we Americans would call comfort. The couches are covered with magnificent tapestry, but they have not that egreeable, springy motion of the American lounge. The chairs are inlaid with pearl and ivory, but they are stiff and straight becked and we get cramps when we sit in them. The fire burns brightly in the hearth, yet there is no warmth in the farthest cor- ner of the room. Only by sitting around it is there a chance to warm our ingers and toes. “Come up to the fire,” says. the hos- pitable hostess, when 9n her at home day She receives her guests. So all about the grate the visitors gather, and heaven pity the belated one who arrives after the circle is formed! Left on the outer edge, she her tea and freezes. The Sideboard. Among the wealthy classes there is a sit- ting room connected with each bed room, which accounts for the very large houses in which the aristecracy live, but among the middle classes either the drawing room or the dining room is used as a sitting room by the family. Nearly all the dining rooms contain one piece of furniture that I never tire of admiring. It is the great sideboard, carved from massive English oak. In America we who do not belong the mon- yed class wre content with pretty but in- xpensive little sideboards of American manufacture, to match the rest of the “set,” but in England almost every family with a ioderate income possesses one of these carved pieces. It sets the whole room off and gives it an air of elegance that even the cheap lace curtains hanging at the windows cannot dispel. In the matter of arustic window draping the English house- e is far behntd my countrywomen. The lishwoman will, if she can afford it, a handsome pair of curtains in her nz room, but the rest of the windows Each room has a different style of drapery, of various colors and patterns, while the shades are never evenly adjusted. The American house- keeper takes a particular pride in keeping all the front windows of her house aii! and the little sash curtains, looped back with pretty ribbons, are the jey of her heart. I have never yet seen artistically Greped windows in any London house, un- less it happened to be occupted by an Amer- ican. In this respect the houses of the tited aristocracy iook the worst, with the alaces of royalty in the lead. On the in- side of the windows it is considered “style” for the draperies to sweep the floors, after the manner of a court train. The English table, when laid for break- E on or dinner, always looks very pretty. Where large numbers of servant are kept the laying of the table ts a matt of much importance. Througnout the y ha drawi seldom look like mates. ar flowers are used for decorating, though the meal may be a simple one. tables of the humblest Lond of flowers. cheap the considered a necessity. workman whe, though Kitchen, does not Even on the ners a bunch y may be, is leed, is the eats in his he have a few blossoms on his table at dinner. Jobn Dull is Hospitnable. This xbundance of flowers in an Enelish house is one of its gre.iest attractons. And, while spe: z of at tions, I must not forget to mention that there is one thing about an Ff a home which no American can fail to admire, and that is its hospitality, for John Bull 1s a model host: and when he has quests in his house kis one desire seems 1 ‘> to make them happy. Sir Edwin Arnold says that in visiting America he was struck with the hosp: treatment of Amer, I would say that the same thins has impressed me co ern- ing English peopi2. Their inode of enter- tain.ng may be cifersat from 's, but it is none the less hearty and sin conclusioi, L cannot fortear'. 9 te that, although to my American mind John Bull's “castle” is most inconveniently built, he himself does naz realize these discom- forts. He thrives on them to such an ex- ple tent that I cannot help wonderi ether we Americans would no: be stronger and healthier !f we livel with less heat and fewer couches ani upholstered chairs. But, however that may be, I stiil contend that our methods of housekeep'ny are to his. ELIZABETH L. cabs SS aaeau HOW TO MANAGE A DAUGHTER, Rules That Have Been Made by Cne Who Tried It. From the Philadelphia Times. First—You can’t do it. Second—Give her her own way; save her the trouble of taking it. Third—Pay for her dresses, if you can afford to. Her dressmaker will sue you if you don’t. Fourth—If she takes a fancy to any man you do not wa..t her to marry, tell her you have set your heart on her marrying him, and swear she shall never marry any one lelse. You can the® give her a free hand, jand she wouldn't have him if he was the jonly man left. Fifth—If there is any man you want her to marry, kick him out of your house, order the servants never to admit him, distribute man traps and spring guns and bulldogs all round your grounds, lock her up in her |room and vow if she marries him you won't leave her a penny. You will not have to | wait long after that for the elopement. Sixth—If she has no voice, encourage her to sing whenever you give a party. It will attract attention to her and give your gnesis an excuse for complimenting ‘her. | Never mfhd the neighbors. Seventh—If you are a poor man teach |your daughter how to dance and play the piano, She can learn cooking and ar aking and those things after she is mar- ried. it will are without springs, especially those used | THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, APRIL 14, 1894-TWENTY PAGES. eg ‘THE SUPREME COURT |The Men Who Have Sat on the August Tribunal. , THE OLD CORT ROOM AND ITS MEMORIES The Half a Hundred Distinguished Men Who Have Worn the Robes. STORIES OF THE JUSTICES —__+-__ Written for The Evening Star. Is: THE OLD SEN- te chamber, situated nearly midway along the main corridor be- tween the House and Senate, sits in sol- emn and dignified state the Supreme Court of the United States. Here deliberated for sixty years the Sen- ate of the United States, from 1801, when the government was moved from Philadelphia to Wash- ton, until 1861, when the Senate took up its uarters in the present chamber. The United States Supreme Court, or- ganized in 1789, sat in New York and Phil- adelphia until 1801, when it opened its ses- sions in the room immediately below its present abode, in what has been since used til the Senate, moved to its new chamber, made room for it in 1861. It is a notable circumstance that the old court room was the only part of the Capitol which was not |injured materially in the firing of the bulid- ing by the British in 1814, and justice still | held sway therein, not hindered by that dis- |astrous incident in our eariy history. Here John Marshail of Virginia, at the opening of the court at the new Capitol in 1801, took the ozth of office as chief justice, and for thirty-five years presided over as gifted and great a bench as ever expounded laws in tany coutry in Christendom, his own great | tame growing steadily with his years of ser- | vice, shadowing, but not dimming, the fame of his illustrious associates. Marshall was succeeded by Roger Taney of Maryland, wno in this room prior to and in the early days of the war, through @ period of |twenty-five of his twenty-eight years of |service as chief justice, rendered decisions notably in the famous “Dred Scott” ease, which intensified the passions of the two great sections and emphasized the differ- ences which led to the war of the rebel- lion. Senator White, when he assumed the robe of his new office, was the fiftieth asso- ciate justice commissioned since the organ- ization of the court, in the year 1789. Dur- |ing the same period there have been eight chief justices, one of whom, however— John Rutledge of South Carolina, appointed by President Washington to succeed Jay— presided over the ‘court during the August term only, his nomination being rejected by ihe Senate in December, owing to his fai!- ing mental condition, Tne states of New York, Connecticut, South Carolina, Virginia, Maryland and - linois have furnished one chief justice each, while Ohio has twice been honored by the distinction. The associate justices have been distributed among twenty-one states, Pennsylvania and Ohio leading, with five each, New York, Virginia, Maryland and Massachusetts four each, Kentucky three, North and South Carolina two each, and Maine, New Hampshire, Mississippi, Michi- | an, Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, California and Louisiana one each, Justices of Long Service. During the first eleven years of the court, from 1789 to 1801, there were three chief justices—Jay of New York, Rutledge of South Carolina and Ellsworth of Connecti- cut, while during the following sixty-three years but two men filled the position—Mar- shall of Virginia and Taney of Maryland. In the succeeding thirty years down to the present time there have been three chief present occupant, Melville W. Illinois. Including Chief Justices Marshall and Taney, twenty-four justices have covered a period on the Supreme Court bench of fit- | teen years’ service and over. Associate Jus- tices Chase of Maryland and Davis of Ili- Fuller of | win of F ivania and Livingston of New York sixteen and_ seventeen years respec- tively; Todd of Kentucky nineteen years, while Justice Harlan of the same st is row in his seventeenth year of service. Thompson of New York, Daniel of Virginia and Swayne of Ohio served twenty yeurs each. Jersey twenty-three years each, Grier of Pennsylvania twenty-four y 3, Duval of Maryland twenty-tive years, Nelson of New York twenty-seven years, Catron of Ten- nessee aad Milier of lowa twenty-eight years, Johnsen of South Carolina years, Bushrod Washington, | Gen.” Washington, | California, nephew of and Justice Field of thirty-one years; McLean of | Ohio and Wayne ot Georgia thirty-two | Years, and Joseph Story of Massachusetts, hext to Mars! in longevity of service, thirty-four yea Justice Field, “The Father of the Court,” has the honor of having sat with a larg number of associaies than any other man Court, having had the judicial fellowsaip ot four chief justices and twenty-two asso- siate justices. Justices Cliffurd and Miller nearly equaled this record in having sat | with three chief justices and twenty-one as- sociaie justices. Attaches Who Have Served Long. The old apothegm, “Few die and none re- sign,” seems to find apt illustration in the | Supreme Court and its attaches, There are veral men employed in different capaci- | ties about the court who have seen over a | third of a century of service. Archie Lewis, (the colored man on duty in the robing | reom, has adjusted the black silken robes | upon the shoulders of more than half of the | members of the Supreme Court bench, hav- ing been in that service for nearly forty years, while James Welsh, the venerable and sedate-icoking colored man whose face is so familiar to members of tae bar and to | the thousands who visit the Supreme Court | room, where he sits at the outer main door | when the court is in session, has spent thir- the court. In the law library Mr. J. F. N. Wilkinson, the well-known colored man, has during a period of thirty-seven years aided chief justices, associate justices, members jof the bar and all who have sought for jlezal lore to fd it in any one or more of ; the thousands of volumes in this wonderful storehouse of judicial learning. Sitting in the present Supreme Court room at high noon, as the justices, following in |dignified manner the ‘chief justice on the march from the robing room to the bench, | take their seats, after gravely inclining the head to the assembled members of the bar and spectators, all of whom are standing as ja mark of respect to the court, one 1s | struck withghe comfortable physical large- | ness and satisfying appearance us to men- | tal solidity of the highest court in the land. | With a life position—ten thousand doliars per year salary—a knowledge that after ten | Years’ service and the age of seventy is ‘reached that salary can be drawn annually if they wish by retiring to private life— with independent fortunes in most cases— with everything congenial in their official and persenal surroundings, both in their duties and life at the national capital and in their work on the circuit, it is easy to see why our Supreme Court judges are such genial, merry men to meet out of court. while still retaining that severe judicial mien and habit on the bench. In a quiet wey, and, of course, in a man- ner entirely compatible with the ligaity of the court, the justices of the great tribunal evolve much enjoyment out of the incidents connected with the daily routine business | before them. On the appearance before the court of young counsel there is a marked disposition to avoid sounding too far, in the | nervous and unsettled condition of mind | usually notice? le in such cases, their know!- edge of the intricate points of law in the case at bar; if, however, an old practitioner | elsewhere,with a fixed reputation for know!l- edge and success in all branches of the pro- \ fession comes before them for the first time, {as the law library, and remained there un- | New Jersey, Georgia, Alabama, Tennessee, | justices—Chase and Waite of Ohio, and the | nois having served fifteen years each; Buld- | -litford of Maine and Bradiey of New | thiriy | r | who has been on the bench of the Supreme | ty-tlive years and over in attendance upoa | | he ts often put to his best endeavor to suc- cessfully meet the seemingly anxious desire | of the different members of the court to have expounded to them the law of the case. if he can “keep his head,” ail is well; but { it not an unusual thing to see the contrary may imagine that there is some quiet chuck- ling done by the outwardly stald and digni- fied justices over the fact that they have dis- turbed for a time, and until he rezovers his wonted legal equipoise of mind and manner, their distinguished brother in the law. When It Was Not So Pleasant. In the early days of the court the condi- tions were not so pleasant to its members, as the salary was small, the retiracy act not open to them, the modes of travel over the then larger circuits primitive and often most arduous and in many respects their sur- roundings far from pleasing and comfort- able. It fs not at all likely that any member of the Supreme Court would be in a financial position today to be imprisoned for debt, were that old iniguitous law on the statute books anywhere in the broad domain, yet one of the early justices was, owing to un- | fortunate speculations and the dishonesty of | an agent, and is said to have died from | mortification on that account. The popular | impression is that such an exalted position as a place on the United States | Court bench would never go a-vezzia | in three instances known the chic ship has been declined, the persons | clining being Jay, commissioned for a | second time; Cushing, one of the first bench, and the brilliant, ambitious Roscoe Conkling of the modern era. | In many cases an associate justiceshtp has | been declined, the most notable instance be- ing that of John Quincy Adams, who after- ward became President. Three men have been rejected for the chief justiceship—John Rutledge, named to succeed Jay; Caleb Cushing and Attorney General Williams, nominated by Gen. Grant to succeed Chase. | Taney, in the year prior to his being made chief justice, was practically defeated for |an associate justiceship by adverse action | of the Senate in the form of an indefinite | Postponement of his case. The comp!=xion | of the Senate having changed politicully. he | Was later nominated and confirmed as chief justice. It is an open state secret that Pres- ident Lincoln had selected Strong of Pennsyl- |varia, afterward appointed an associate jus- tice by Gen. Grant, for the chief justiceship made vacant by Taney’s death, out that | political considerations, in which the re- moval of 2 dangerous rival from the presi- ential field figured, led to i | Chase for the position, pee A Judicial Boarding House. In the days before and during the early part of the war the justices of the Su- preme Court lived in hotels and boarding houses. Chief Justice Taney and several of his associates on the bench lived for many years in the old boarding house on 4 1-2 street just off Pennsylvania avenue. Here Was the consultation room, where the judges tol having been fitted up for use about 1868. It was in this old-time judi ing house that fhe court attempted to make a rule which should govern only the mem- bers thereof, the result of which led to that “bon mot” laid to Justice Story which has passed muster among the good things for many years. As is well known, it was in the old days @ very common thing for wine to be served at dinner, and the judicial table at Morri- son’s was not an exception to the rule. The court on one occasion, for. some cause not writteny held a personal conference, at which it was decided that wine should be used at table only when the depressed cendition of things, either from the state of the weather or other like cause, lower- ed the physical tone of the court to the ex- tent that a stimulus would be required to uplift it. It was agreed that this con- dition would be more likely to exist during rainy or cloudy weather. The rule was to a prolonged or frequently intermitting rainy season. There came, however, a tong dry time, both as to the weather and cast sky. Justice Story, stepping to the window one day from the dinner table, carefully scanned the sky, and, asked by his associates {f there appeared any favor- able sign, said: “Not even a speck of a ed associates, he suddenly brightened up jand added, “But, my brothers, we have been governed by too limited a phase of this question, for it must be remembered that the jurisdiction of this court is co-ex- | tensive with the boundaries of the reaim, and it would be strange, indeed, if at this hour somewhere within that jurisdiction in sight.” so convincing that the court thereupon drank to the health of the witty justice, who had extricated them from a then long- standing difficulty. Homes of the Justices. Of late years it has been the habit of our justices to live in homes of their own, and all of the present court so live, save Justice Shiras, who resides at the Arlington Hotel. The white-haired and dignified chief justice and Justices Gray, Brewer, Brown and | Jackson live in comfortable homes in the | fashionable west end. - | Justice Harlan lives in a beautiful home on Columbian Heights, overlooking the city, his house being on ‘the site of the oid | Columbian College. Justice Brown's new home, built by him, is on 16th street,known also as Executive avenue. When the justice comes out of his house to walk to | the Capitol, as is his daily custom, he can | look into the front door of the White House. He also has a fine house in Detroit, and it | was there that he drove a burglar from bis | bedside at the point of a pistol. His home came near being closed in the new by an accident, when a plate glass window was crashed in a violent wind storm and | striking the judge in the temple made a |eut from which he nearly bled to death before medical assistance could be had. He wears a plainly noticeable scar as a re minder of his narrow escape. Justice Field lives on Capitol Hill, direct- ly opposite the Supreme Court room, in one of the three houses remodeled from’ the old building in which the Senate and House deliberated while the Capitol was being re- paired after its burning by the British. Although in his seventy-eighth year the justices’ appearance indicates that he may yet distance Chief Justice Marshall in longevity of service, and that he may even reach the ripe old age while still expound. ing the law, reached by Chief Justice Taney. who was in his eighty-eichth vear when the great reaper closed his record on the bench. The three brothers, Cyrus, David and Stephen Field, have not alone had the honors of the great name, as a sister has added thereto by giving to the world a son who, In the person of Justice Brewer of Kansas, now sits by the side of his vener- ble uncle on the supreme bench. Justice Field was one of the five justices of the electoral commission, and out of the fifteen members, being five each from the preme Court, the Senate and the I! | but three, Senators Hoar of Massachris: and Hunton of Virginia, then members of | the House, and hims are left in public life at the national capital. Justice Clifferd and the Jersey Girl. The venerable Justice Clifford, the presi- dent of that commission, an old line demo- crat, appointed to the bench by President Buchanan, never entered the White House after Hayes’ inauguration, although it is customary for the full bench top: visit of ceremony to the President at the opening of each term of court. An amus- ing incident in coanection with old judge mzy not be out of place He lived for a quarter of a century at the National Hotel. On one occasion there was a goodly company gathere’ in its 5 among which was the judge and Congzessmep and their far jon the eve of congres: | time and discussion had as to ch renomination of members present, young girl from an inner town in the mosquito state, not well poste’ on thi political, amused and electrified the o. pany by stepping up to Justice Clifford pertly asking: “Judge, are you going run again this fall Perhaps an added reason Supreme Court judges present su to why our ha satis- fied appearance, free from the habitual worried look so noticable in the faces our members and Senators, especiaily as their terms i. Congress approach a close, is that they di to “run again. not have to bother and plan CHILION P. CONGER. Beet Ra From Life. result from this judicial inquisition, and one | sereer Station, Washington D |New York and Washi met to make final disposition of cases, | 7 the present consultation room at the Capi- | al board- | bravely kept for some time, perhaps owing | the court, and each day observations were , enxiously taken as to chances for an over- | cloud in sight.” Turning to join his deject- | it were not raining or at least some clouds | It is said that this logic was | | 37515 «200, life | put in Jeopardy by this incident in the old | in effect" April_1, § ‘ive and leave a! Pennsylvania Pas- c Danville end imter- < Lyachbung with road West . for Strasburg, ‘aatiy, —%y - 4 1 Batter on over the NEW SHORT angan and St. Augustine da 11:01 a.m. THE MAIL.—Daily, ope: LINE via Colombia to uniting at Greevsboro’ with Sh also carries through Pullmaa Buftet York to Atlante for Pirmiugham, 4:43 p.m. mediate Ro xy hy a vugusta, Sleeper New where direct connection is made Moatgomery and New Orleans. Dally for Charlottesville and inter- mm, aud through train for Frost . except Sunday. VIRTIRULED LIMITED, ‘composed eeaeely PESTIRULED. LIMITED, eo man Vestibuled Sleepers aud Dining Cara, r the NEW SHORT LINE via Columbia to Savannah, Jackscnville and ‘Tampa. Din- “harlotte to Jacksonville. Also operates Sleeper New York to New Orleans vin Atienta and Montgomery, New York to Asheville via Salisbury, and Washington to M Birmingham. Diaing car Greeusboro’ to Montgom- ON WASHINGTON AND OHIO DIVI- ave Washington at 9:10 + for Round Mill, for Herndon ie msstve Waphing: a os a. 25 pm, su Round Hill, wi am., daily, ex sunday, from Werndos only. traius from the south arrive Wash- nd 5:30 p.m. Manas- Sleeping Car reservations informa- _ furnished “g ‘Gtlices, 511 -— 1300 Poamapiees tia, Raitrsd, ‘Wastiegten BG. WwW. B. =. Man. A. TURK, Gen. Pass. ih S. BRO’ en. Agt. Pass. Dept. PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD. STATION COR\E rier Caf to Harrisiu: 11:05 AM. FAST LINE—Por Pittsburg, Parlor Cars to Pittsturg. 3:15 PM. CHICAGO AND ST. LOUIS EXPRESS. Puliman Better P S ing and Di: ung. Kane, Canandaigua, Rochester and daily, except Sunday, port and Niagara’ Fal 1:05 A.M. for William: For Wii ing Cer "Sotnts ait, ‘aud’ % Into daly, . ts Saturday, with ‘Sleeplag "Cat Wi Elmira, and Satu.days ouly Washington to Rocb- FOR PHILADELPH AEW YORK AND THE 4:00 P.M. “CONGRESSIONAL LIMITED,” all Par- RATS, ith Dining Car from Beltisaore, for Xew York dally, for Philadelpaia week days. 9:00, 9:40 (Dining Cary and 11:00 AM, 15, 12:47 texcept Monday), 2: 1» 4:20, 1000 and 1D | eater. 00.1100 AM., 12:15, Car, 3:15, 4:20, 10900 and 1 Pitladelpiia only, Fust Express, doys. Express, 2:01 and 5:40 P.M. For Boston without change, 7:50 A.M. and 3:15 P.M. daly. For Baltimore "6:25, 7:20, 11:05 and 11:30 AM. ppt Sunday. For Aunapolis, 7:20, 9:00 and 11:50 A.M. and 4:20 P.M. daily, except Sunday. Sundays, 9:00 A.M. and 4:20 P.M. Atlantic Coast Line Express for Richmond, Fg =7 ville, St. Augustine and Tampa, 4:00 4. 48 M. daily. Florida . 5:55 PM. week @ Auianta, 10:57 A.M. week ., » » Tah, 240, O45, 10: 1:50, Bis. 4:25, 5200, 6.15, Sn2 aud 10-00 2 215, 8:02 and 10:0 " ‘ashizston, 6205, 6:43, 7:06, 10:15, 114¢ AM.,” 4:20, 3x 7:20, 9:15, 10:52 ), S80, 7 and 10:52 P.M. Ticket ottices, northeast corper of 13th street Peunsylvania avenue avd at station, Oth and Streets, Where or can be, left for’ the ci of taggage to destination from Semcese 3. R. Woop, 8. M. PREVOST, General Passenger Agent. General Manager. mnie BALTIMORE AND ONTO RAILROAD. SCHEDULS IN EPPECT FEB. 18, 1894. from sation corner of New ys Chicago and_ Nort ss trains, 1 Cipeinna west, . Knoxville, Osieaus, 11:10 pam. * Batt minutes) an... xs200, $3 p.m. ‘Suad X8:30 a... 45 minttos). x8 05, OS, 1:00, x2-15 G0, 0, 6:30, E8200. 59:00, x11:30, 11°35 pon. Anvapolts, 7:15 and 8:30 a.m., 12:15 and 4:28 Pp. Sundays, 8°30 a.m., 4:31 p.m. For Frederick, 11:30 a.m, 1:15, 14:30, 1:80 Foe Hagerstown, 111-30 a.m., end 15:30 pam. For Bora gg Lg a cand way poluts, 1 0, 3.38) {4:83," “b-B5" “ras, %, way points, 10:00 m Sunday “Daily. xEapress trains. ‘Sunday only. Baggace called and checked from hotels and residemes by Union Tiaisfer Co. on orders left at ticket offices, G19 and 1351 Pa. ave., aod at Depot. RK. B. CAMPBELL, Citas, 0. SCULL, Gen. Manager. Gen. Tuss. 2gt. 020 CHESAPEAKE AND OHIO RAILWAY. Schedule in effect November 30, 1893, fi leave daily from Union station (B. and nd ts. scenery im America with most complete solid train serv- St. Lous finest, Dinit rom ‘arrives © Clochunati, and Chicago, Y Y- The famous “F. F. ¥. Lim ed train with dining car and inctouatt Lexiagien ang ited. errivis ton, 6:10 pam: Loulevtile, 9:60 11:20 p.m.; Chicago, 7:30 a.1m., 45 a.m., connecting im Union depot palate. AM. DATLY Fer O14 Point Comfort an@ Oniy rail Tne. DAILY wile, Way irginia points; Express for Gordonsville, “swiro”, Staunton and. pring aily, except Sunday, for Rich- Iman locations end at company’s of fices, 513 and 1421 arene. TW. CLR. no General Passenger Agent. Ee POTOMAC RIVER BOATS. Street. Suudas Landing at ati Madde ‘creek. Returning days und Fridays, & p.m. Pas. etree. cht receive pone ITA, 00. E. 8 RANDATAL Alex Prop. d& Mam, 0. CARPINT a Agta teint Woshington, D. ¢. STEAMER MATTANO Tor ™ sock and Intermediate landines frot wharf every SUNDAY, ‘TUES. Day RSDAY at 7 o'clock a.m. Pas- fen t rates the lowest. Por im f G. L. SIERIFF, Coal Offce, {163m s or DAYS aud SATt creck, Leonan Clement's ty and tn- tern edinte cursing TUBSDAYS, THURSDAYS and SUNDAYS. (See schedule.) cw. RIDLEY, anott Gen'l Manager. NORPOLK AND WASHINGTON STEAMBOAT GQ, DAILY LINE LETWEEN WASHINGTON, D. @, FORTRESS MONKOE and NORPOLK, VA. The new and powerful Iron Palace Steamers. WASHINGTON AND NORFOLK—SOUTH BOUND, Leave Washington d@aliy at 7 p.m. trom foot of 7th st. wharf, arrive at Fortress Monroe at @ a.m, mext day. Arrive at Norfolk at 7: Where raliroad couuections are made for all south and southwest. ‘TH ROUND. at 6:10 p.m. Leave Portress Acrive at Washington at 019, 1891 and 1421 Pemp- ast. ow via mew line JNO. CALLABAX, Gen. Bupt.