Evening Star Newspaper, June 23, 1894, Page 17

« PUBLISHED DAILY 101 TERN, The Evening Star Newspaper Company, 8. H. KAUFFMANN, Pres't. CEPT SUNDAY. New York Office, 49 Potter Building. > vertising made known an mppli~ytle AT THE STAR BUILDINGS, : lwauia A Cor. 11th Street, by | THE EVENING STAR | WASHINGTON, D.C., SATURDAY, JUNE 23, 1894-TWENTY PAGES Part3. Che Fy) ering Star. Pageiageo. ‘TO ADVERTISERS, Advertisers are urgently re quested to hand in advertisements the Gay prior to publication, in @rder that tncertion may be a® @ured. Want advertisements will Be received up to noon of the day @f publication; precedence being @iven to those Orst received. CHINA’S UNEMPLOYED How the Greatest Empire in the World Takes Care of Its Poor. ! LIFE ON «TWO { The Wonderful Economies Prac-' ticed by the Celestials. | | CHINESE BEGGARS PRACTICES | ooo @Coprrighted, 1894, by Prank G. Carpenter.) NKING, China, May 23, 1894. UNDERSTAND thet many Ameri- cans are patting themselves on the back at their success in economizing dur- ing the present hard times. They don't know what economy is. They should take a trip to China and learn something of the science of saving. ‘The expense of living is here reduced to # minimum, and these Chinese millions would stow fat on what the thrifty French and Gerraans waste. The food for a poor man in Nanking costs him no more than two cents a day, and at $4 a month a man will support 2 family and lay up money. I met @ fat, jolly looking Chinaman this morn- ing, who told me he had a wife and five children, and his income was sufficient for all his wants. He earned about two gold dollars a month as a carpenter, and his wife makes one dollar more by going out to work. It costs five cents a day to feed @ patient in the Methodist Hospital here, and a farmer may be hired for from ten to twelve dollars a year, provided he has; his rice, his head shaving and his tobacco. It costs about $5 a year to buy the ward- fobe of a common laborer, and a Chinaman Will put on flesh on a dollar a month. The majority of the people of this part of China are well fed and well dressed. They have goed faces, and they are, I believe, far happier than the average American labor- ers. They seem to enjoy their lives and their families, and they are far above the average of the world in their manners and culture. I have mixed indiscriminately among them and find them polite and kind- ly. They crowd about me wherever I go. ‘They finger my clothes, and when I take a photograph or stop to write a note, they al- most block the street in their anxiety to! see what the foreign barbarian is doing. | ‘Their curiosity, however, is free from mal- | ice, and they are not the fierce foreign | I devil-haters whom I met with further up the river. I find much In them to admire, and I wonder every day at their economies. Chinese Economies. Let me mention a few of them. In the first place in? the way of fuel. Nearly ail of the fires in Nanking are made | of straw and reeds. Every wisp of dry grass is cut and saved. There are thou- sands of people who do nothing else but reap the reeds which grow along the banks of the Yangtse Kiang and bring them into | the cities to sell. These reeds are as thick | ‘as the base of a waiking stick and are often | fifteen feet long. They are cut and stacked | tp aloag the banks and from thence are carried up and down the river in flat-bot- temed boats. Such wood is used is tied | up in little bunches and ts sold by weight. | Charcoal is sometimes found, and I see here | and there little balls of coal dust of about the size of a base ball. The powdered coal 4s mixed with mud and dried in this shape. No one in China, however, either rich or | Poor, thinks of keeping warm by means of | fuel. There are no furnaces nor baseburn- | ers, and wadded clothing among the poor and fur garments among the rich keep out | the cold. A fire is never bullt by a poor} inan except when it Is absolutely necessary, and the hot water used for the tea and rice in the early morning is sold by hot water | You can get a bucket of boiling | for one-tenth of a cent, and there is} uch store in Shanghal to every twenty families. A large amount of rice is cooked at one time, and the breakfast rice is warm- ed by the pouring of hot water or hot tea over it. Ten Shops. Speaking of tea, there are tea shops or rest.urants all ever China, and you get very fair meals in these for small prices. The ccoking ovens are at the entrance of the tea house, and you have cften to pass the cocks in golag im to your meal. The tea is put into cups and hot water poured over it. After you have swallowed half of the contents the cup is filled with hot Water, and one drawing of tea is supposed re lappiest Beggar in Namking. omer for a meal. After he are gathered up and later on to poorer lies, and nothing Even boiled nes of the of chop stic nt of the Nank the mak- | told me ng time trouble in get- y meat brought to his house with . and he found that butchers the bones and sould them the meat itself. You see er botties ly of the fot ‘ s+ take them. They s tin of the cans is used by the tt ners, A large part of the tin used In China comes fr * petroleum cans of the Stan- and every bit of iron blacksmiths into knives tA ar that he had for a tins ai \ old rags and | ing on two st. the razors of China are made cf old horse shoes, and these are brought here by the ship load from Europe, and are carried to all parts of the em; After the Franco- Prussian war they were torn from the feet | lof the horses killed in b: | brought here by the thous: tle and were 's of barrels. Second-Hand Clothes, The oid clothes man of China does a big- ger business than his brothers of other | parts of the world. There are streets of | | second-hand clothiers in every Chinese city, CENTS A DAY) ana ctotnes are sola over und over again, vntil they get down to the beggars. By this time they are shreds of rags, but their end ts not yet. After the beggars find them too poor for even their use they are sold as © bought by the makers of shoes. The shoes of the men and boys of Shaving the Baby's Head. China have soles nearly an inch thick, and these soles are made of rags, which have been washed and dried and then pasted “layer upon layer, until they reach the thick- ness required. They are cut then into shape and are so polished along the edges that you would think them made of leather or Wood. The uppers are made of different qualities of silk or fine cloth,eand the China- man’s shoe if manufactured in America would cost more than the kind we use our- selves. In the making of the rain boots for muddy weather and hard traveling, soles of iron are often added, and the itinerant shoemaker who sits in nearly every block of a Chinese town has big-headed iron shoe tacks to drive into the soles to save wear and tear, and there are places where you can have your Chinese cap renovated and made equal to new. Even the rich, who have thousends of dollars invested in their fur garments, do not throw them away when they get dirty. They will wear a coat of silk lined with lamb’s wool till the ining is as black as your hat. But some day the coat will disappear. It will be rip- ped apart and & preparation of lime and other material will be used which will make it as white and as pure as when it was first bought. The clothing of the poor is patched and repatched, and there are women by the score in every Chinese city who go about doing mending. I see them sitting in the narrow streets outside the houses working away under the hot sun, and they go from house to house and do the patching of the families for a few cash per patch. It is the same with the menders of crockery and broken china. These are so skilled that they will take a cup or teapot of the finest and thinnest of porcelain after it has been broken into pieces and by means of wire rivets, which are fastened only to the out- side of cup or pot, put it together so that you couid not tell if you saw only the in- side that it had ever been broken. They will mend a half dozen pieces in this way for from two to three cents. The work is marvelous. It could not be done by the watchmakers of America, but it 1s one of the specialties of the Chinese itinerant tinker. I might go on for a column describing others of the wonderful economies I see all One-Legged Beggar of the Yangtse. about me. I could tell you how these peo- ple will take a buffalo’s horn of about the size of a cow's horn and by boiling it and pressing it out make it eo thin that it be- comes a lantern and forms a transparent globe as big as a two-gallon crock. I could show you them sitting in their shops han- dling old cotton wadding which has been worn by several different owners till it has almost dropped to pieces. They will pull it apart, take out the cotton, half clean it and mix it with fresh cotton for sale. Take a look at the barbers who stand on every street shaving the heads of all males from old men to babies. They receive from less than a cent to 5 cents a shave according to the rank and wealth of their customer, but you note that they save the scrapings of the head, and these bitg of hair are sold by them to furniture dealers for the making of cusbions, It is the same with eatables. All sorts of greens are eaten, cooked and raw, Happy on $2 a Week. and a large number of the beggars are sup- ported every winter by the government of the towns and villages, but as soon as ‘spring comes this appropriation is dropped and they are literally turned out to grass. Professional Beggars. As to beggars, there is no country in the world that has more impudent beggars | than China, but I doubt whether in pro- Portion to its population {t has more than many parts of Europe. The Chinese beg- gars are, however, Organized into bands. They have a trades union of their own and they go into the business as a profession. They have their kings and the cities are divided up into beats and woe to the man who attempts to jump his brother beggar’s claim. There {s sure to be a fight and he will be run into prison or out of town. ‘These beggars expect to get a certain amount—say one-tenth of a cent a day— from each store keeper on’ their beat and | you can sometimes pay them to keep other beggars awa: At Wuhua nissionary owned a house fac- He had bi sides of him, but he finally the beggar in front to keep hi: y the payment ef a smail sum per month. the bargain was made z * back of the how and he has had no trouble in Nanking th rear cleared and became China hi can prevent a 5! > or a family bein: noyed by the beggars, and there is a iem of buying off the assaults of begg which prevails throughout China and which exempts the man who pays from their visits. As it is, every one gives to the beggar. The sum is generally not more than one-tenth of a cent, and sometimes enly holf that. This fs in silver, and means only haif the same amount on a gold basis. Think of giving a man the twentieth or fortieth of a cent to satisfy his hunger! That is what some of these beggars get. There is a kind of copper cash, about half he size of an ofdinary cash, or as big as a , which is worth about this, and this lorekeeper Psst up a | now, and he will continue his lamenta- |tions until the man is glad to pay him to |move on. Sometimes the beggar threatens | to kill himself in the store then and there if his demands are not satisfied, and, what is more, he sometimes does it. This is a terrible thing for the storekeeper. He has, by the laws of China, to pay the man's funeral expenses, and he may have to sup- | Port his family for the rest of their lives. j Paupers’ Tricks, The tricks and schemes which these beg- gars get up to screw money out of the peo- ‘ple are legion. They mutilate themselves in all sorts of ways to excite pity. I watch- {ed one getting ready for business yesterday. |He had a festering sore on his right foot | whieh extended from the little toe to the ‘ankle, and he was scraping at this with a |plece of rusty hoop iron to make it bleed and to make the flesh raw and angry. He stopped as 1 approached him, pointed to |his bleeding foot and whined out a request for alms. Another beggar I photographed in one of the main streets of Nanking two |days ago. He was standing in the center [of the road, with no clothing on above the waist, and was apparently blind. He had what looked like a great brick in his two hands, and he was throwing this over his shoulders and striking himself on the small of the back. He was howling for alms as he did so, and had a basket fastened to a string, which he passed around between the blows. After his posing I gave him about 50 cash His face lighted up and hts eyes opened, and he ran off on the trot, the happiest beggar in Nanking. Other’ beg- gars cut themselves with knives to excite pity, and I saw one yesterday on what may be called the Vanity Fair of this city who had cut off his toes, and was lying on the stones with the bare stumps sticking out. One of the feet was still bloody, and the sight almost made me sick. Many of these beggars go about in boats, and there is a creek near Shanghai which fs filled with boats of beggars, who go out over the coun- try to prey upon the people. There is a jolly beggar along the Yangtse who has but one leg, but who sculls himself about from place to place in a little canoe, and gathers up the cash from the thousands who come near him on the water. I saw here yester- day on the steps of the Temple of Con- fucius a boy, who was pounding his head |up and down upon his knees to excite pity. He had no arms, and he looked at me in a dazed way when I pointed my camera at him. Many of these beggars go about in gangs of from three to a score, and this is Hot Water Peddler. especially the case with the blind beggars. They have their leader, who goes ahead with a stick, and the others, women and |men, follow, holding on to each other by \the a and carrying baskets for cash or rice. The worst beggars of the ‘world, however, are the diseased beggars of China. Men and women sometimes take babies with phe smallpox See a their arms and enter the stores to beg. The shopkeepers are glad to throw them some ci to get them to move on. The lepers are another set of bad citizens. They are found all over China, and they are desperate in their applications for help. They have their unions, and they levy blackmail upon every funeral. If they do not receive it they sometimes make it lively for the mourners. At Canton they wait at the cemetery and approach the funeral pro- cessions as they come in. They will take promises in case the head of the occasion has no money at hand, but if no money is sent they will dig up the bodies and hold them until they are ransomed. Charitable Establishments, The Chinese are, however, far more char- {table than {s generally supposed. They take better care of their families than any other people of the world, and a man ts sup- posed to ald his poorer relatives and to help them on in the world. With all the beggars there ate, I venture, fewer unemployed peo- ple here in China today in proportion to its population than there are in America. The government has charitable institutions, and its officials are always giving out of ‘their own pockets. Sone extracts from the great Government Journal of China lie before me. From them I see that $50,000 was lately sent to some of the inhabitants of Mongolla who had suffered through a late rebellion there, and that a lady in Peking had just sent a thousand dollars to relieve some poor people in her native province of Anhui. In most of the cities there are govern- ment granaries where rice is stored up for the poor against famine,and there are blind asylum: leper asylums, and in some Places, am told, public hospitals. There are no lunatic asylums, and families have to take care of their own insane. There are No work houses,but there are soup kitchens and clothing clubs, and rice and clothing tickets are often given to the needy in times of famine and in the winter. The huts in which the beggars live here are mere sheds of the thinnest bamboo mat- ting plastered on the inside with mud. These usually line the walls outside of a Chinese city, They are so small that it is hardly possible to stand upright within them, and the average size is not larger than the area of a hall bed room. ‘The floor is the ground and this often forms the bed of the family. There is usually a partition which divides the hut in half, and the cooking is done over a fire of straw which is built upon the ground or in one of the clay stoves which are used everywhere throughout this part of China. There is, it must be remembered, no law against beg- ging in China, and the beggars here have as many rights as any other citizens. Our ideas of the Chinese, however, are crude in the extreme. This is a country of the rich as well as of the poor, and I see every hour the evidences of a social, intel- lectual and industrial life, which are dif- ferent from any descriptions of China I have ever read, and which are interesting in the extreme. Fam 4, Caenes —_—_+0+ Droll Stephen Grant. | From the Youth's Companion. } Stephen Grant was an erratic genius, whose jests and extravagant sayings were enjoyed by his contemporaries. Mr. Bell, “Bench and Bar of gives the following specimen of his way of putting things. He was a * in his profession, the law, and once went to Wentworth to live, but did not stay there long. Being asked his | reason for leaving the place so soon, he plied: "phere’s not room enough there. The hills come down all around so close to- | in. A little shoemaker moved in and began . | business there, but when he tried to pull | out his wax he hit both elbows against the | hills,” Pe Subterrancan Loadon. From the London Daily News. It gives an impressive idea what sub- terranean London 1s fast becoming to learn that, on emerging from the river, the new city and Waterloo line will, in its passage up Queen Victoria street, run for a part of the way underneath the low level main sewer, which in its turn runs along beneath the District Underground railway. So that at this point in tne city we shall have,first, a busy main thoroughfare, below that a steam railway, then a huge metropolitan sewer, then an electric railway, reaching its terminus at a depth of about sixty- three feet below the streets, and here it will communicate with another line—the Central London—which will He at a depth eran New Hamp- | gether that there is no space to turn round | PARIS” BOULEVARDS | | The Brilliant Scenes in the French- | man’s Paradise. PARISIANS AND FOREIGNERS ——-+--— Brilliant Scenes on the Grand Boulevard. LIFE OUT OF DOORS Special Correspouence of The Evening Star. PARIS, June 5, 1804. HERE IS ONE place where Paris centers, where ail the rays of light meet, where all the heat concentrates, where the Iie shines most brilliantiy. ‘That place is the Grand Boule- vard, a pleasant semi- circle of broad strects in the full beart cf Paris. The boulevard extends two miles, triumphaat, bright and loud: The boulevard {s the main street jot Paris. The likeness of the Boulevard to the main street of any of our little towns {s in the essence of the thing; in It consists the secret of the boulevard’s great charm. Each country village in America has its own boulevard—the main street—which becomes the focus of the township, with the bank, the post office, the town hall and the plaza of the brick hotel, where cows are auctioned once a month. It is the spot where the community Is consclous of it- self. The other streets are vague. The farmers’ sons who sit around the temper- ance hotel at night are your true boule- vardiers, because they sit upon the side- walk tilted back, where they admire, con- demn, discriminate and pass on all the citi- zens and strangers going by, because they know their world completely. The very village loafers, spitting their tobacco juice upon the pavement of their favorite cor- ner, are more Parisian than the uncertain rounders of our hustling cities, cramped in bar rooms and in the corridors of the hotels. It fs not so a man keeps touch with all that passes in his sphere. To keep this touch with all that happens day by day In is is the true pleasure of the boule- vard, and the true boulevardier ignores all other happenings. There may be earth- quakes on in South America, the king of Servia may jail his ministers, and Coxey's army may be at the Capitol, he reads it all in three short paragraphs and then forgets it. Of Interest to Parisians. ‘What is the new piece at the varieties?” Tha. is the real thing. “Did you see the Revue? Jeanne Granter is simply scream- ing in her imitation of Otero. She marches around the stage four times in a bull fighter’s costume. They have the colored lights like Lote Fuller's playing on her. Mais, c’est charmant! They cry, ‘Sa: beautiful Andalusian dancer, why do y not dance, why do you walk around? She stops and answers, ‘This {s very difficult. IT am impersonating a bull fighter hunting a bull by moonlight. When I find one I will take him home with me." Or—‘They say that the police are going to asphyxiate all the unmuzzled dogs again, just as they did in 1892. Two thousand dogs dead in a single week. Now that is cruel.’ Or~ | ‘Emile Zola will be sure of his election next year. You understand, his friends in the academy refuse to vote for any can- didate who will not pledge himself to vote for Zola when the time comes.’"” Not by Reading. In Paris one learns things by seeing them, by hearing them, and not by reading them. In Paris they know little else but Paris. Parisians are sufficient to them- sel Thus Paris has a unity, Mke any little country town. This unity gives Paris its completeness and Its charm which comes from that completeness. Each Parisian in | the 2,500,000 of the Parisian population be- | Meves that every other Parisian {s more | interesting than anything else in the world. | Every one from the outer world {s a bar- | barlan. It ts on the boulevard alone thi the high mark of civilization is touched, It ts a common thing for the Parisian to reproach new Americans for judging all Paris by the boulevard. “Yes,” one will say, “you sit on the boulevard, read Gil Blas, visit the Moulin Rouge and think | you know Paris.” “The boulevard,” a French lady will say, “I have not seen it for a month.” Yet she likes to know that ft is still there and is secretly proud of it. And the Parisian exile in an American city will say of a torchlight procession, a po- litical parade or a bicycle meet, to give it et hata praise, “It is like the boule- vard.”" The Grand Boulevard. ‘The Grand Boulevard extends in a semi- circle from the Place of the Bastille to the Church of the Madeleine, a distance of two miles. ‘Ihis is the region of the tourists, the [opera and theaters, the most celebrated | cafes, restaurants and brasseries. It ts the | quarter of the newspaper offices and of the expensive shops. A part of it is the prom- | enade of all the world, the meeting place of every class, and the center of disturbances | When Paris 1s excited. | In Parts there are many other boulevards, of various names, wide streets, with shade trees and great shops and bustling life. They,too, have their theaters, their cafes and their life of pleasure. But the veriest stranger feels the difference, as he hastens back to the great focus when his business in these imitation boulevards is finished, | The boulevard—the real and only boulevard was born and grew up with the life of Paris itself. 1t 1s a3 much a part of the great city as the main street is of the American country village. What May He Noticed. The old aristocrats of the Fauborg-Saint Germain have named the boulevard the Fauborg des Singes, the Monkey quarter, be- cause of its liveliness, the mixed character of its frequenters and the sensual nature of its attractions. Mere may be seen the den- izens of every part of the world, elvilized and unctvilized. They have come to Paris to be pleased, and they have brought with them the first essentlal thing—the money, Their hearts are full of enthusiasm and their heads are full of preconceptions of what the delights of Paris are. So they | find thems: immediately at home on | this street of streets. They see that they |are elbowing other strangers and they do not feel alone. To them the boulevard is Paris. Nevertheless, after the first flush of nove ty has pussed, and the tourist has done | admiring the tones of the English language which will strike him all the way from the | Madeline to the Cafe Mazarin, he will eb- serve that the bulk of the crowd is, ufter ail, thoroughly Parisian. He will note also | the gayety of the people, the ceaseless grin Jof pleasure in which there is no drunken- |ness, the trees broad in thelr foliage, the wideness of the street and p smartness of the cafes. He will begin t s as tourists of the most diverse on the boulevard, so also Parisians of every | class frequent it. j In the Evening. | For those who frequent this great street in the evening there is need of little other | amusement. |Jets spangle the darkness, the shops are open and shining brilliantly, and the crowd ‘rolls ke the progress of a mighty river. [7 is a crowd not beyond reproach and it ia very Versa bit there ie at jonet nlware "The electric lights and the gas} good nature, gayety, and an utter ab- sence of the “toughness” which obtrudes itself in English and American cities. The fashionables of the great world stroll for a few blocks after the theater or are whisk- ed away in their carriages to some expen- sive restaurant. Business men sit with their wives or mistresses outside the cafes, or alone play dominoes within. Young clerks in their best clothes ogie the ladies as they pass. Whole families of genuine working people saunter along in groups or stop to rest or look in shop windows. Englishmen at the cafe tables wrangle with the waiters over their change, in broken French; and Americans spoil the garcons by giving heavy tips, oftenest with no French at all.Both English and Americans jostle Spaniards, Turks, Arabs, provincial Frenchmen, Paris dudes, beggars, anarch- ists and men of letters. What Parisians Want. Yet it !s the Parisians who make the boulevard—not the strangers, although they bring the money. A Frenchman cannot be shamed into spending his cash, amd he wants to have many of his pleasures for nothing; but he does pay for things he be- Meves worth paying for. Moreover, he knows exactly what he wants, and the au- thorities know about what he can be trust- ed with. Above all, the Parisians wish to have bright, gay and cheerful meeting places, where they can watch their fellow creatures and talk, talk, talk. Therefore, besides the wide street and open places there are the boulevard cafes. The street and the cafe pushing out into it, encroaching on it with its chairs and tables as if it were jealous— two together form the only bar room known to prosperous Paris, and the only free lunch is the free lunch for the cyes. Or this street, though you have not one sou, you are at no disadvantage. You are not shut out from the others. People are spending money, and not hiding the sight of their pleasures from those less fortunate. What the eyes and ears can take is fr and all the pleasurable excitement of being “in the swim” is to be had for nothing. But it food is desired, or if you even wish to sit and rest, then out must come the pocket book. cup of coffee is the cheapest thing and with care it can be made to last through the whole evening. To sit at beer is more expensive. On Summer Nights. It is best on summer nights to sit out on the sidewalk. ‘There, having secured a table (no small trouble), you may pass the evening making your observations of the life of the boulevard. Past you will come filing, lke a pleasing nightmare, all the pareding tinsel of Paris in fine weather. The calls of the street peddlers give the music for the marching. They are like Wagner's leit-motivs: when they break in on the half-dreaming mind it {s to warn, to promise, to expiain, to call the wander- ing attention to the meaning of It all. They are an index, so to speak, of Parts. “The Libre Parole! France for French!” “Turpin’s Invention Sold! tyred and Betrayed! “Pourquoi les femmes mouillent-elles leurs doigts pour attraper leurs puces!” (’Why women wet their fingers to catch fleas!) This last stan for a ribald pamphlet on a burning question of summer time in Paris, where fleas conceal themselves in every petticoat. A deputy saunters along with his wife on his arm. Behind bim a newsboy and a night beauty elbow a millionaire, who is walking tn the same direction as his cl and taking in the same cheap pleasure: There are cheerful people of every class, all filled with the spirit of idle amusement, tinged with something artistic, which pre- ver.ts crudeness. “Le Soir! 9 o'clock edition!” “Occasion for pianists! Fifty morceaus for fifteen sous!” “The little -danseuse of the Moulin : the France Mar- e? At ll o'clock the bourgeois begin to leave the street. In front vf the cafes family parties break up and go their several ways. A father passes, carrying his sleeping child on his stoulder, and a mother skurries along with her little brood. Hither<o it has been no small amusement to watch the Parisians at their flirtations, in the open highway, in the clear electric Nght, with the eyes of a dozen nationalities upon them, uncons*ious, eager and innocently unashamed. A man will Jump up from the table next you, speak to a mademotselle upon ‘the sidewalk, bring her back in triumph, and then plump her down beside your wife and children. Soon these mild flirtations will become more numerous; and if you know a bit of French you will hear language strange to Anglo-Saxon ears. Scon {tt will be the hour for the pretty figurantes of the theaters and music halls to be passing down the street on their way home. It is midnight ard raining. You would scarcely think it summer, unless you should look at the low shoes and filmy skirts that skurry by. Men and women sit still at the cafe sidewalk tables, huddled under leaky awnings, doggedly holding their places. They wish the evening would not en Love of Leisure. The first and most distinct impression Americans get in Paris on the boulevard is that, behind all the activity, there is a most astounding love of leisure, which per- vades all classes. The Parisian of pure blood is recognized by his easy walk; and when he walks he is continually loafing. Whenever on the boulevard a passer-by stops to look up in the air or join a gaping crowd of others iike himself, be sure that The Parisian is, before saunterer and a seer He looks at a wedding or a of rights. burial which 1s passing as if he had never seen one. He likes soldiers, and follows them. He likes his boulevard, which he feels sure is situated in the very center of the universe. The Paris boulevard is given over to leisure. It is a place for loafing, not a place for working. Parisians are happy to have such a place for loafing. STERLING HEILIG. —— Pilot Knob Fort. From the St. Louts Republic. “You would be surprised to know, prob- ably, that the old fort at Pilot Knob has not been disturbed since the wa said a veteran. “The land where the fort stands is now owned by the Iron Mountain Com- pany. It refuses to allow the souvenir of the battle of Pilot Knob to be destroyed. The ten-foot ditch around the fort has not been filled up, and it presents pretty much the same appearance as when Gen. Price made an attempt to take the fort. It will be remembered that Price and his army were camped on Shepherd's mountain, tle fort being at the base, near a ravine. Price stationed his artillery on top of the moun- tain and ordered a charge. When the in- fantry reached the ditch, It was realized that a mistake had been made, and the soldiers retreated, as many of them being killed by Price’s men, who were keeping up incessant firtng from the top of the moun- tain, as were shot down by the federals within the fort. It was the intention of Gen. Price to capture the fort the next morning, and he had made a hundred lad- ders to scale the ditch, but they were never used, as the federals spiked the cannon and blew up the fort at daylight. The rem- nants still remain, however, and are viewed with interest by hundreds from St. Louis who spend the Summer season at Arcadia.” os Proving the Point. From the Detroit Free Press. The prosecuting attorney in the breach of promise case thought he would make life a burien to the unfortunate young man who was the unwilling defendant. “Do you méan to say,” he asked after a ‘lot of embarrassing questions, “that after you had been absent for an entire month, | you did not kiss the plaintiff, towhom you | were enguxed to be married, when you | fast saw Ler on your return “I do,” responded the defendant firmly. “Will you make that statement to the | jury?" rtainly, if necessary.” Yo you think they would believe you?” me of them would, I know.” Ah, indeed. And why should he, pray?” Because he was present when I first saw her. He was at the gate when I rode up, and she stuck her head out of the sec- ond-story window, and 1 told her how dye,’ and said I'd be back to supper in half an hour. I'm no giraffe,” and every- body in the court room smiled except the attarnes. FUTURE GRASSES A Garden to Be Started Here for Experimental Purposes. NEARLY EIGHT HUNDRED KINDS GROW, But Only Six Are Utilized to Fur- nish Food for Man. ONLY ONE KIND POISONOUS + Written for The Evening Star. HE APPOINTMENT of @ government ag- Tostologist marks a new departure by the Department of Agri- culture. Prof. J. Lam- son Scribner, the ex- pert thus designated, will investigate the grasses of this coun- try. He will start a grass) = gardens in Washington for ex- perimental purposes and to get seed. Spe- cies hitherto uncultivated will be tried, and, if found valuable, will be recommended to farmers. Foreign varieties will be imported and before long a picture book describing all of the grasses of the United States will be distributed free for the benefit of agri- culture. This volume is already in process of preparation. it seems astonishing to learn that of nearly 800 kinds of grasses that grow in the United States only six are utilized to furnish food for man—namely, corn, wheat, rice, barley, oats and rye. These have be- come what they are now through cultiva- tion, The wheat and barley of today are much larger and finer grains than the wheat and barley which have been found in an- cient Egyptian tombs and in the buried cities of Greece. Like methods would de- velop many of the wild grasses into accept- able new cereals within half a century. One that has been suggested for this purpose is the so-called “wild rice," which now is used only to fatten reedbirds. With the latter object in view it has been planted exten- sively along river banks. It spreads very rapidly. To the Delaware and many other streams it is native. The stems are utilized for binding the staves of liquor casks. ‘Two Seashore Grasses. There are two seashore grasses which bear excellent grains, though of small yield, but the latter could be improved. Not only for human food, but for forage also, there are humerous species now unrecognized by the farmer which might be rendered ex- tremely valuable by cultivation. Within the last few years new uses have been found for a number of variefies in the manufac- tures, in the arts and in medicine. A few furnish delightful perfumes, while others are propagated for ornament. In truth, no other order of plants is so indispensable to’ man. If it were of the face of the rove at to see how he could sur- The agricultural experiment stations in the arid region of the west are laying out patches in various kinds of grasses, trying to tind varieties that will thrive in spite of drought. Experts are hunting all over that part of the country for promising native species, with shears to clip off the seed tops and bags to collect them in. Some have been found that promise well. The state authorities in Connecticut intend before to have a winter propagating garden for grasses, where the work can be carried on under glass during the cold months. It has been found useful to procure grass sprouts from sods hundreds of years old. Some such have been got from English ple, who have brought bits of turf with them to this country. A pinch of grass between finger and thumb will hold perhaps a score of little plants, and propagation from them is simply a matter of patience. Some grasses are propagated by seed and others, like the Texss blue grass, by root cuttings. By the transplantation of pieces of turf special strains of superior excel- lence nay be perpetuated with certainty. Prof. Scribner suggests that the establish- ment of grass hurseries in the vicinity of cities, for cultivatign and selling first-rate sod, would prove a more profitable industry than market gardening. Ordinary turf, being filled with weeds, is dear at any price. the removal of the weeds being a continual source of expense, “A very important use made of certain kinds of grasses is to bind drifting sands,” said Prof. Scribner yesterday. “Along the seashore in many places one finds the beach actually held in place by such vegetable growths, which form such @ tough network that it can be dug away only with great difficulty, In Holland marsh grasses are planted on the banks of streams and canals to prevent the soil from blowing or being washed away. Not long ago the San Fran- cisco authorities desired to employ a sim- ilar means of preservation for the sands along the bay, and they sent to Australia for ‘sand-weed’ requit This was rather absurd, inasmuch as the same grass pre- cisely grows profusely all along the Atian- tie coast. “A kind of grass known as ‘Johnson grass’ is used in this country for binding rail- way embankments. Bermuda grass is ull ized for the same purpose. It grows over the south. Where the land is moist knot grass is made to setve for the same tucky blue grass is regarded New Zealand. The grass called ‘alfalfa,’ so highly esteemed for forage, is a very an- noying weed in some parts of this coun- try. It is the same way with many other plants. In the middle states the wild turnip and wild parsnip cause an immense amount of bother, having escaped from the gar- root anywhere.” root anywhere. Only One Kind Poisonous. There is only one kind of grass that is poisonous, so far as I am aware. It is called the “darneil,” and its fruit is said to be very dangerous to man and to flesh-eat- ing animals, though not so to creatures that eat vegetable food. It causes eruptions and blindness. There are some grasses which acquire deadly properties from fungi that attack them and invade thelr tissues. Ca tle eat them and perish. Some decidedly mischievous grasses there are which are not at all po! jous. One of these is the ‘burr grass,’ which has sharp spines that are swallowed by cattle an@ do injury. An- other bad grass is the “squirrei-tail,” the flowers of which break up into keen points and hurt the mouths of horses, In India certain aromatic grasses are cultivated for their delicious fragrance. From one of these called “lemon grass,” an essential oil for flavoring purposes, is ob- tained. An ex from another ts the most important ingredient of a cooling drink, and ts valued as a mild stimulant, like ginger. There are two species of scent- ed grasses native to this country. One of them is named “holy grass.” They are used by Indians for making baskets, and some- umes people put them away with linen for the sake of their aromatic odor. A species of grass introduced into Louisiana by early French settlers is cultivated in that state for sweet-scented roots. In the Japanese village at the Chicago fair fans made out of these roots were sold. Two grasses na- tive to this country are so offensive to the nostrils as to e the name “stink grass.” There are giants and pigmies among grasses. In Greenland there grows a grass that looks like a moss, never attaining a height of more than half an inch. The greatest of all the grasses the bambo: Single stems of which attain a length of 170 feet and a diameter of a foot. So rap- idly does this plant grow that 't ain a height of 100 feet in sixty days, certain species adding 10 feet to their stature with- in twenty-four hours. In the southern states grass from ten to fifteen feet tall forms impenetrable thickets called cane brakes. Its leaves are so nutritious that cattle will live all winter on them. The woody stems med sold all over the country for fishing poles. A kind of grass grows in Brazil that af- fords living fountains of drink to the tbirsty traveler. Its stems reach forty feet in height and six inches in thickness. When they are cut they gush with of cool water. The Indians of Amazon in South America use grass native to those regions for pipes. They cut lengths sixteen feet art” poison. The bamboo is a true grass. It ought to be cultivated in this country. Successful bamboo plantations have already been es- tablished in California. In China the plant. is applied to more than 500 different pur- peses. A farmer builds his dwelling and fences out of it, his farming implements as well as his household furniture and utensils are made from it, while the tender shoots provide a vegetable for his table. A few species have a berry-like fruit and the ble are used for props for houses, for ribs of sails, for coops and cages. Leaves are sewn into rain coats and thatches. The shavings furnish stuff- ing for pillows, while various parts supply the beds for sleeping, the chopsticks for eating, the pipe for smoking, the mattress to ite upon, the chair to sit upon, the table to eat cn and the fuel to cook the food with. The skewer to pin the hair, the hat to screen the head, the paper to write on, the pencil to write with, the bucket to Graw water, the crab net and the fish pole are one and all provided by the bamboo. The Seages. Very nearly related to the grasses are the sedges, which, with the exception of the grasses, are the most widely distributed plants in the world. But whereas the grasses are the most useful of all plants to mankind, the sedges are the least so. Nearly all of them are worthless. Among the few valuable members of the order are the rushes employed for making candles, mats and chairs. Papyrus, the material anciently utilized for paper, is a kind of sedge. The substance that served or writ- ing on was got by separating the thin plates of cellular tissue, which lie just be- neath the outer coat of this water plant. These plates were laid side by side upon a table, and other pieces similarly cut were laid across them at right angles. Thus they formed a sheet of many pieces, which were made into one united substance by sprinkling them with water, the gummy matter in them dissolving and causing them nuutually to adhere, In this manner sheets of prodigious length were produced. Papyrus was em- ployed exclusively for writings which were destined to be preserved, until the inven- tion of parchment, about 230 B. C. Its n.anufacture was continued as late as the eleventh century. The papyrus plant had many other uses anciently in Ej and Ethiopia. ie chewed the roots for their pleasant juice, and the stalks were their pulpy contents being afterward eaten. The stalks also afforded material for ropes and cables, and the leaves were utilized, are ts. A TRICK TO GAIN MERCY. Harry Parker's Broken-Hearte® “Father” Was Playing a Part. From the New York Sun. Before County Judge Henry H. Moore's ‘court opened in Brooklyn on Friday morn- ing an elderly man with a sunburst com- plexton, sandy hair, and a Scotch burr in his voice that fairly tickled the he spoke, walked into the clerk's sald: “I want to see my b-b-b-boy once more Boo hoo hoo! My p-p-poor b-b-b-boy.” “Who is your boy?” asked an officer. “Harry Parker,” answered the illuminated stranger. Great tears rolled down his jong) cheeks. He was a study in grief. The officer's sympathy was aroused. When Harry Parker was gathered in by the police he was supposed to be one of @ gang of experienced English Brooklyn Jockey Club track by Detective Mason for helping themselves to a $100 diamond stud that happened to be in the shirt bosom of Reuben Dodd. They were indicted for grand larceny in the degree and convicted. They were to raigned before Judge Moore on Friday sentence. When the florid stranger heard from the officer that “his son” was to sentenced, he asked to see Judge Moore. The officer took him to the judge's private roo! m. “What is it you want?” asked Judge Moore. b-b-b-boy! ap hae aa nice m-m-man, of my old age.” “Well, what's his name?” “Harry, your exceilency; Harry Parker, may it please you.” “Yes, and he has been convicted of grand larceny, and I am going to sentence him this morning,” said Judge Moore. The stranger was heaving with sobs. “Spare him, your excellency! Spare my only son! He was such a nice b-b-b-boy—boo- hoo-hoo! I haven't seen my unhappy for two whole years. He has been way- ward when he has been out of my care. have mercy on him, and I will bless you my days. Harry will be grateful, too. bas never been in trouble before, majest—your honor. “I understand that he has been tn —— said Judge Moore, who was @ ¥ hu hen that, “You hurt me when you say ng the stranger with dignity. “If he in trouble before may your honor to prison for life.” While this was who had arrested » entered He remembered to have stranger talking to Parker during “Are you married?” asked “My poor, dear wife is man, again bringing out kerchief and dabbing at his He cried easily and without effort. “Where are you employed?” asked Ji ™ For busin I prefer “For ess reasons I would to answer,” said the man. “I have been a respectable citizen since I came-to this country.” A close cross-examination developed name of one man who lived in = had employed Harry Parker's father. “Mason,” said the judge to the BIE sf deer | i ial j I I E ? Lj i if § t denly. “Your honor, I—I—I will cali again,” he said, and out he went in a hurry, When Parker was for sentence Judge Moore asked him, “Is your teres ee a “No, lied eight years ‘wl Parker chuckled when the, atory of the broken-hearted parent was told to him. “If that man says he is your father he didn’t tell the truth, eh?” said Judge Moore. “Of course he didn’t, and he’s nothing but an old bungler anyway,” said Parker with s' 3 The broken-hearted parent didn’t return to claim his long-lost boy, and Parker was aes to Sing Sing for four years and “That was the latest trick out,” comment ed @ court officer, ‘3 rely From Harper's Drawer. Poor Mike was very ill—almost as ill as he was short, and what that meant those who know him can best say, for physically he was hardly more than a dwarf. The doctor was called in, and after in- vestigation informed Mrs. Mike that her husband was suffering from actinomycosis, a name which appeared to strike terror to the soul of the anxious woman. “Act phwat?” said she. “Actinomycosis,” replied the doctor. “Him?” cried Mrs. Mike. “Ah, docther, how can yez say thot? A little man loik® Moikel coulden’t hould the name of u& auch lisa th’ @isage thot enes wid wer Mistake.