Evening Star Newspaper, September 8, 1894, Page 13

THH EVENING ST IIIT AR, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 1894—EIGHTEEN PAGES, : NIGHTS IN PARIS The Round of Restaurant Life From Midnight to Dawn. THEN THEY DEVOTE THE DAY 70 SLEEP Some Glimpses of the Seamy Side of the French Capital. ®ERILS OF THE STREETS Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. PARIS, August 28, 1894. ROM MIDNIGHT ON till 2 o'clock the Paris night life glit- ters like a brunette’s hair lt up with jew- els. From 2 o'clock tw daybreak the dusky beauty puts her diamonds by; no one can tell if she be beautiful or not. It is surprising how the public gayety of Pari hushes quick at 2 am., and how it hides away in little nooks, with its great center In the sordid life around the markets and its thoroughfare the Rue Montmartre, where carts piled high with cabbages so sulking by. One gocd hour in a cab will take the tourist round the ring, the pale track of “the luminous night belt.” By public night Ife it is meant where people meet together freely, clothed and in their right minds, where no electric buttons need be pushed. The gregarious dance halls—the Moulin Rouge, the Casino and the garden of the Jardin de Paris, which closes even earlier— shut up the shop at 1 a.m., by law. Their latest clients shot out, with the lights, like ball and flame from cannons fired at night, fetch up with noise and sh in hundreds of cafes and brasseries? which their quieter comrades, who have quit at mid- Bight, are already lolling lazily, in con- ere At Jullens 2 a.m. templation of their coffee. This meeting once again in well-known cafes is a pecu- Mar mark of Paris life. The patrons of the theaters have met in the same way, hurrahed and eaten, paid and rolled away in cabs. Those who have yed and those who come are noceurs, and from 1 a.m. till 2 a.m. it is the noce, the fete. While families may participate, ft is not family life. This particularly is true of all the new and splendid brasseries and taverns, where the first days of Sep- sember find the oysters come again into their kingdom with the world returning back to Paris. In these taverns the silver soup pot boils the hard-shell crabs (ecre- visse) all the year round, except the month of June. Here ladies sup beside their cava- lers, they do not sup alone, they do not sit alone. The type is one distinct. It al- most seems as if the onion soup, the oys- ters and the coral-red ecrevisses, the hard- boiled eggs en salade and the ham and sau- sages and stout meat jellies of the taverns (as distinct from restaurants) build up a special type of femininity; never under twenty-four years old and never over thirty; ways tall, fine, plump, with a great face like a full-blown rose; gracious, careless, easy, habituated, solid, healthy, with fine teeth and hair; as honest-looking as an honest woman. Disappearance of the Cafes. A hundred brasseries ate reeking with their beer and food. Itus a new thing come to Paris, practically in the last five years. The falling in of old cafes to bloom again as brasseries—besr restaurants—continues. The last to go was the old Cafe Riche. To- day it is a brasserie. The Grand Cafe (be- neath the Jockey Club) will be transformed this fall into a brasserie. Almost the only old-style cafe of great size and great im- portance now existing on the Boulevard between the Opera and the Varietes is the old Cafe de la Paix, beneath the Grand Hotel. And it was sold last month to the hotel. Its old proprietor retires. Its tum to lower its prices and draw beer will sure- ly come. This transformation of the old- style cafe into the new-style brasserie is looked upor by old Parisians as a curse, and marks the fact that Paris has become as vulgarized as any other city. 1:30 a.m.—The great brasseries are still glitterirg in their prosperity along the = LIZ a vg f A Crash of Crockery—3 a.m. Boulevard and streets that cross it. In the Latin Quarter all is black, except a few beer shouting. And soon in uarter from the Opera to vulevard Sebastapol the “juminous night belt’ will show its milky way from out the darkness which begins when the electric lights go out. What makes it eas I life with confidence is th: way things have of classif in the hide-bound Frenc literally true, for instance, that certain . and almost Puritan re- small, old-fashioned cafes, . although it, too, shows routine. the chestra to draw more trade) are full of honest folks at 11 o'clock at night and abs: empty at 11:15. The clients have their habits. At 11:10 they go home. Th like the Pousset, e—have their hour 2 a.m. The robust beauties gorged with food. They walk out clients of ale anc are quit to the cab stand b, with swaying capes and swist skirts, like qu And soon the tavern lowers its lights up or two of urnalists and ns, ii evil jong the Some few 2 lights. £ Amer- Gazette alone. the Lerdon man vweeklics. An: which bears the nam pensive dive. The is } jer, as it has set up an or- | their bus- | wide, brilliant public stairway, forth its lights all night upon the darkened Boulevard; and any one may enter. It is very public. But soon the tourist sees that he should ler + and not for self and remnants of the vi - Positions of 1867, 1878 and 1889. ove At Julien’s you “mount two flights of ancienne gaiete Francaise soon the demoiselle will pounce down on him, if he be Anglo-Saxon, by the right of & common language, to explain she does not sing tonight because she is a little croupy. A glass of cognac for the croup costs 40 cents at Julien’s at this hour. You can ——_— VES JOURS IC BAL © OFtaa LErAtanonee | \Cerehe QUYERS 4am. have brandy quite as good in many drink- | ing places in the daytime for 4 cents. | After 4 a.m. the seeker strikes another stratum of society. Heretofore it has been | the smart quarter. One might have taken | look at Wetzel’s brasserie as late as 3 a.m. or Sylyan's up to almost 4. These two, like Julien’s and the Americain, pretend to be quite chic. Ali group themselves around the Opera and have a special ar- | rangement with the authorities by which they may keep open late, it being under- stood that only well-to-do folks shall Le entertained There are no such preten- sions in the wine shops. In the quarters of the great newspaper offices permission has been given to cer- tain wine shops to keep wide open, in full blast, all night. It is supposed to benefit compositors and all the rest, and later on the porters, the delivery wagon drivers and news dealers come to get their papers early in the dawn and market people going to the Halles. And, also, as the daybreak comes, a host of other little taverns for the | working people keep opening like buds that turn to flowers with the spring sun and dew. In summer time the morning light is clear at 3:30, and those who love to walk the streets at dawn and take a drink at every little shop and stuly human nature and disgrac> themselves by being drunk and sleepy, casting a blet upon the scene of laboring men who drink their bowls of coffee, find a good starting place on the Rue Drouot, just above the office of the Figaro, where a wine shop very much in vogue ts found chuck full of a mixed company. Perils of the Street. Upon these worthless trips no man should go alone; or if he does he should not speak to other men upon the street. It is not even safe to take a lady for a guide from place to place. The Paris cabman is the best guide. If you enter only the well- lighted, numerously patronized cafes or wine shops in the central part of Paris you will be as safe as in your bed. The nightly assassinations are committed on the streets between the hours of 2 and 4a.m. To walk alone between these hours is perilous. Your fists avail you nothing. And notbing is more to be deplored than the self-cohfidence of Americans and Englishmen in Paris,who rely upon the manly art. A sword cane 2nd a knowledge how to use it is the Parfs- jan's defense aguinst these fellows, who come two by two. A cab is regularly safe. The cabmen are an honest sct; and the fact that they are not irresponsible, but are the employes of companies, makes them more careful of their actions than you might suppose. At this wine shop on the Rue Drouot there is a fall again to honest prices. Hot milk, hot soup, hot coffee and hot chocolate give a new appetite. The cabman, whom you At the Rue Drout—Negotiating a Loan 1.30 a.m. ask to drink will take a tumbler of red wine, his drink, with coffee, all his days and nights. The wine shcp has an honest clientele, the scourings of the streets, among the wo- men, compositors and printers’ boys, work- ingmen, and gentlemen in evening clothes, clerks on the spree and a big mob of cab= men come to take an eye opener after their all-night driving. Then there are stray girls from Montmartre and even some drip- pings from the Cafe Americain and Julien’s, and you may see that same blonde English girl who always is a little croupy. All this, feminine contingent sit about and yawn and quarrel over bowls of soup and lumps of sugar for their milk. The method of paying for one’s drinks, when one is sit- ting at a table and not standing up before the bar, is the same as is pursued all over Paris in the cafes and the brasseries. Along with each glass of drink there is brovght a saucer with a price painted on it. When your glass is empty and you order another the waiter leaves the saucer. So if you have taken five drinks you will have five saucers piled up before you on the table. Wher you leave the waiter counts them up and you pay all together. End at the Bakery. It is but one step around the corner to the Bakery Chateaudun. Its lights {lu- minate the somber street; Its hot bread casts a perfume on the air. All throughout the lator night, or earlier dawn, the nce- tambules thrust out from the closing bras- series and wine shops of the quarter take their refuge here nd a final drink a, last morsel. Bare-chested bakers’ me | all red and sweating, hold themselves erect with locks of conscious worth as they ex- & Danger. den shovel to some pret ¥ ; girl, and fa; oing round the town in compa vith her own dude. | She cannot help comparing the baker boy’s solidity with her own dear friend's flute-like extremeties, and th color with the pallor of the ing clothes. And it is just. The dawn is breaking. A walk M sman’s royal uth in eyen- the Boulevard and to the to see the Halles and stop as le) will bring one to the real new: per square. Here a famous brasserie, the Coq d’Or, sits between two streets, the Rue Saint Joseph and the Rue du Croissant, rich in printing offices, so rich, indeed, that all the little square Is called “La Grende Imprimerie,” where more than s!xtex 4ai- lies are turned out. it is a scene of brisk confusion, with porters, wagons, messen- gers and newsboys (Ww! 2 not boys, but men) mixed in a grand melee. STERLING HEILIG. OYSTER INDUSTRY The Closed Season Ends the Middle of This Month. INCREASED PRODUCT IN THIS LOCALITY How the Bivalves Are Obtained and Their Disposition. SYSTEM OF PLANTING Written for The Evening Star. HE “CLOSED SEA- son” for oysters ends 'm Maryland on the Mth of September, though the oyster fisheries are open through the first month only to the “tongers,” or those who fish in shallow waters. The dredgers will be free to begin their fishing on the 15th of October. Dredging will con- of April and tonging tinu2 until the Ist unul the 2ist of that month. There is a popular belief that oysters are umhealthy during the months without an “r.” The restriction placed on the oyster fishers is mot due to any such cause. It was made necessary by the fact that during the sum- ner months oyster fishermen used to catch small oysters in large quantides and sell them either to the canning houses or to farmers, who used them for fertilizer. The Maryland and Virginia waters were fast being depopulated when the closed season Was established. In addition to this pro- tection, an attempt has been made to en- force a “cull” law, Which requires fisher- nen to return oysters less than a eertain size.to the reef from which they were taken, But the “cull” law has not been easy of enforcement, and it is estimated that the number of oysters under an inch in length taken from the beds and destroy- ed is quite as great as the number of oys- ters going to market. Most of these little oysters would be resdy for market in an- other season. As the fishermen of Mary- land take 12,000,000 bushels of oysters, worth $6,000,000, each year, the wanton de- struction of the small oysters is a. very serious matter. The fact that the young oysters are be- ing slaughtered in such numbers in the Maryland waters ard that certain oyster fields are growing unproductive has given rise sevcral times to the report that the oysters of the Chesapeake bay and its trib- utaries are being extcrminated. In fact, it has been stated gravely more than once that the oyster was becoming extinct in Maryland very rapidly. In the face of the fact that the product of the Maryland fish- eries is increasing every year and that to- | day it is one-third of the total product of | the world, this statement appears rather absurd. Maryland Is vored by nature with a re- markable coast line, so full of indenta- tions, so ragged, that it gives a much lafger coast area than the size of the state would warrint. New beds have been dis- covered year after year, and the prodigality of rature has made the oyster fishermen careless of her gifts. It was a boast of the people of Marylard and the people of Virginia within reach of the oyster fish- eries not many years ago that they had one harvest which required only reaping. They are beginning to learn’that planting may be maceeary if the crop is to continue abun- int. Private Oyster Indastry. Already the state has passed laws to en- courage the cultivation of private beds of oysters. Connecticut, New York, New Jersey and Delaware have restricted oyster fishing until it ‘s now almost entirely in private hands. One firm in that state not long ago took $110,000 worth of oysters from its private grounds in six weeks. The private oyster industry of Connecticut dis- tributes $1,000,000 in wages every year. The state receives 10 cents an acre tax on @,000 acres of pre-empted ground. In the scuth no attempt is made to profit by a tax on oyster fisheries, but they are encouraged in every way. Texas gives sixty acres of sea bottom to any one who will plant and cultivate :t. North Carolina five years ago threw open $00,000 acres to cultivation without charge (of which only a small part has been taken up), and Georgia makes yyster culture practically free. As yet Maryland grants only five acres of sea bottom to any individual, and the induce- merts to go into oyster culture on a large scale-are lacking. About 12,000 acres have been pre-empted for oyster culture in the last forty years, but only a small percent- age of this is in use. The best oysters—-the famous “Chincoteagues” and “Parker Bays”—come from these private beds. Every movement toward permitting the oyster industry to fail into private hands is resisted by the large population on the Marylan4 coast, which is dependent on the oyster fisheries for support. There are fully 30,000 of these. oyster fishers, and in the eleven counties of Maryland, which are in- terested in the fisheries, there is a popula- tion of 07, which depends chiefly on the cyster fishers for a living. It is true that most, if not all, of the men now at work in the oyster field would be needed to work the rivate fisheries. In fact, it is very likely {hat a greater number of fishermen would be used. But the coast fishermen of Maryland have been independent for so many years that they would hardly be satisfied to work for even the least exacting master now. Five years ago, when a rumor went abroad that the legislature might lease the fisheries, the oyster handlers of Baltimore met and protested against taking from the bay fish- ermen what had been theirs by common right for 255 years. A far more serious question than the rights of the Maryland fishermen, jhowever, holds the state legisla- ture in check. Most of these 30,000 fisher- men—in fact, virtually all of them—vote the democratic ticket. Their political influence commands consideration for them. Tongers and Dredgers. There are two distinct classes of oyster fishermer in Maryland—the “tongers” and the “dredgers.” Between these- are the “serapers,”” who are almost inconsiderable jin nymber, and who may be grouped with either of the other two classes. They fish in shallow water, like the tongers, and they use implements which are modified dredges. But almost all of the fishermen are either Gredgers or tongers. And these two are as different as can be; not alone in their method of taking oysters, but in their social position. For the tonger is a citizen of Maryland, a free and independent citizen, gathering his harvest of oysters and bring- ing them to market as the farmer brings his wheat; while the dredgers are rough, 1g- norant aliens, picked up by agencies in Bal- timore and shipped in a manner that sug- gests the methods of the old English “press Rung.” The dredger does purely mggial labor, and he is an object of scorn arf@con- tempt to the independent tonger. Hard la- bor it is that he does—hard, ill paid and dangerous. The “cruel oyster captain” of whom we read in the newspaper almost every winter is the cvtain of a dredging boat. Perhaps he is not so cruel as his men represent him to be. Perhaps it is the service on the slippery decks of small boats in midwinter which is eruel. But the ma- rine hospital at Baltimore treated in two years 172 cases of injuries received by hands on oyster dredgers, and in these were four- ty-one fractures, with seventy-two broken benes. This record is of hospital cases only. It does not Include the cases treated in the dispens hed to the hospital. ¢ ‘The y t dredging, which led to pre $ ation in 1821, was due, j first, to the hat the dredges were lexhsusting the supply of oysters, and then 0 the conviction that the scraping of the j beds hurtful to them. Ni | adays it is known that the scraping of the beds rakes it for the spat or spawn to adhere to them, and is, therefore, of ad- vantage to the next season's crop of oys- t But though dredging is now legalized | and cor stitutes the fi. business in oyster gathering, there Is sfll a strong prejudice against it among the independent oyster men of the Maryla1l shore; and many have been the battles between tongers and dredgers, in which not only property, but life has been lost. Outside a twenty-three- foot limit of depth the tongers cannot work. Inside that limit the dredgers are forbidden {to come. But the deiimitation is not mark- ed by buoys or any other form of signal, and it has happened very oftenithat the dredgers have come into shallow: water for. fae ope Pkg ered are notvanly ob- al for the tongersy. the y themselves Hable to the een the ‘The Bourtary Line Dispute. The work of the Myy, however, is not confined to regulating the Maryland oyster men. There are grave tions of ter- ritory unsettled between sthe states of Vir- ginia and Maryland; and the Maryland aan has been called sometimes to defend the rights of the Maryland fishermen against the fishermen from Virginia. Vir- sinia, too, has an oyster navy, and several state wars have been avoided only by a hair's vreadth. The chief point undeter- mined now is the place where the Poco- moke river ends and the Chesapeake bay begins. The waters of the river are com- mon property; but where the river broadens to the bay are the principal oyster beds; and Maryland claims that a string of smali islands some distance from the apparent mouth of the river marks its boundary, while the Virginians contend that the real mouth of the river is some distance above this place. ‘The question must be determin- ed eventually by the Supreme Court of the United States. This court of last resort settled the boundary line in the Potomac river between Virginia and Maryland, and declared that the whole of the riverbed as far as low-water mark on the Virginia side belonged to Maryland. But both states en- joy the right of taking oysters in all parts of the river by virtue of an agreement made in 1785, when the boundary line was first in dispute. About $70,000 worth of oysters are taken every year in the Potomac. The canning trade uses from two to three million of bushels of oysters every year. It had its begirning in 184, and it was a very prosperous industry uatil 1875, when Some dishonest “steamers” began giving short measure, and so brought the business into disrepute. But since 1 the canners have been required to stamp on each can the weight of the sulid oysters within; and enforced honesty has revived the canning trade and the’ canring business. It is, of ccurse, necessary thai the oyster be treated and shut up'tn tke can as soon after being taken from the water as is possible. So the oysters as they are taken from the vessel and measured are dumped into a car six or eight feet long, made of iron, and this car is run along a track directly into the steam box. This is an oak box fifteen to twenty feet long, lined with sheet iron. The vertical doors at each end are pulled down, and the steam is turned on. At the end of ten or fifteen minutes the steam is turned off, and the doors opened and the car is run into the shucking room. There the shuckers work on the oysters as they He in the car, hooking their cans on the edge of the car and emptying the meat from the opened oysters with their knives. The oysters are then washed with tee water and taken to the fillers’ table. The cans are filled, packed in a cylindrical iron crate, aiid lowered into a tub, where the gysters undergo another steaming. When, the cans are cocl enough to be handled, they are taken to the “capping” table, where the tops are soldered on. Then they are Jabeled and packed in boxes for shipment.'.In an hour from the time the shell-oyster,leaves the vessel it is ready to go on the cars. ~ Fature of the I try.) Mr. Charles H. Stevenson of the fish com- missicn, whe has made a special study of the oyster, and to whose admirable reports I am indebted for much information, says that he hes no fear that the, Maryland oyster will become extinct. And still he does not recommend the private ownership of the ter reefs. But that planting oysters an industry to which ‘the .Mary- land oysterman must turn in time Mr. Stevenson ts convinced. aay g I asked Mr. Stevenson If he belleved that artificial propagation would not solve the question, not only for Maryland, but for the other oyster fisheries. _ “A number of experiments have been made in this direction,” he said, “but though the possibility of gathering the eggs and fertilizing them has been proved, its practicability has not. The money which might be spent in oyster propagation could be used more prcfitably in some other way. One regulation which I regard as important to be-enacted is for the return to the bay of the oyster shells. If these shells were returned to the bay, they would rapidly disintegrate, furnishing the material for the shells of other oysters. It is a serious question how long the supply of carbonate of Mme will hold out in the bay.” GEORGE GRANTHAM BAIN. ——___ MARK TWAIN. Clemens Adopted Captain Sellers’ Nom de Plume. Maj. J. B. Downing of Middleport, Ohio, a prominent insurance man and many years ago one of the most widely-known pilots on the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, during a chat with a Cincinnati Enquirer reporter the other day said: “The prevailing idea that Sam Clemens (Mark Twain) got his nom de plume from the soundings on the Mississippi Is erroneous, Equally incorrect is the story attached to the name, through Clemens’ penchant for having two drinks marked up to aim while in the fringed trousers stakes in Virginia City. “The correct root from which his assumed name sprang was this: Old Capt. Isaiah Sellers was a steamboat commander on the Mississippi and prepared articles for the New Orleans Delta. Capt. Sellers was writ- ing reminiscences of life on the father of waters. The strange and sudden changes in the Mississippi river channels are pro- verbial, but Capt. Sellers’ stories 20 exag- erated these conditions that general com- ment and criticism was excited cn all sides. |. ‘Sam Clemens was then learning the river under Pilot Bart Bowen. He was a mere stripling, and, being a ‘cub pilot,’ was not considered experienced enough to associate with the old water dogs. a “But when the letters of Sellers appeared in the Delta Clemens was among the first to constitute himself a critic, and over an anonymous signature he wrote articles on Sellers’ literary aspirations and his limited knowledge of the Mississippi. Clemens’ ar- ticles were published in the New Orleans Picayune, and they were so funny and made old Sellers’ so ridiculous that he, being a pompous fellow, became as mad as a June bug in a lighted room. “He detezmined to find out the author of the letters in the Picayune. So generally were Clemens’ articles read that the secret could not be kept. When he found out that Clemens, a presumptuous cub pilot, was the writer, his proud spirit was shaken with grief and shame. Seller's stories .were all published under the nom de plume of Mark Twain, and upon their discontingation and the shortly subsequent death rg e old gentleman, Clemens, in a letter t),mf says: ‘I stole the corpse. n gcse ESS Dramatic Criticism. From the Leavenworth (Kan.) Times. First Nighter—“The man who writes the dramatic criticism for your papet ddes not know a good play frcm a bad ong.” Editor—“I know it, but what can We do? He is the only man on the staff who's tall enough to see over the bonnets.) |, coo From Life. “Hey there! I sent you up that tree to pick apples, not to shake ’em.”” “I-I-I-m-m_ gorry, b-b-boss, b-but m-my chill's c-come ©-on a day e-e-early.” AN ANCIENT BOOM Effect of: the Removal of the Gov- ernment:to This City. POPULATION AND BUILDINGS INCREASE Opposition to Newspaper Reports of the House Debates. ADAMS AND HIS ENEMIES Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. HE EFFECT OF the final establish- ment of the govern- ment in the federal city was most bene- ficial to the District. Preparations were made for the con- struction of a navy yard on the Eastern branch and for the building of the Ma- rine barracks; and private enterprise be- gan the erection of a large number of buildings tor stores and residences. The National Intelligencer, in the latter part of 1801, estimated that more than 250 houses had been built since the advent of the government, and that the population had been doubled. An associa- tion of eitizens also began the erection of a city market house on the spot where now stands the commodious structure of the Center market, In September, 1801, the Washington Building Company was or- ganized on the co-operative plan, having for its object the building and sale of houses and the loaning of money to its members. The number of shares was limited to 350, and no member was allowed to hold more than ten shares. The first officers of the ccmpany were George Blagden, treasurer; Thomas Herty, secretary; Thomas H. Gil- lis, John Kearney and Andrew Way, jr., trustees; James Thompson, Henry Bin- ford, Thomas K. Beale, Thomas Carpenter, Joseph Huddleston, Hugh Denfley, John Gardner, Leonard Frailey and Joseph Bur- rows, building committee, and Clotworthy Stevenson, chairman of the committee. One of the most interesting incidents of Mr. Adams’ administration in Washington was the episode involving the Speaker of the House, Mr. Sedgewick, and the editor of the National Intelligencer, Mr. Samuel H. Smith, The latter had been the editor of the Gazetteer in Philadelphia, and when the seat of government was removed to Washington he came here and started a tri-weekly paper. The first issue appeared October 31, 1800, under the title of “The National Intelligencer and Washington Ad- vertiser.” Papers were not conducted in those days upon the same extensive scale now, and Mr. Smith, being a stenogra- pher, undertook himself to report the de- bates in the House for his paper. In def- erence to'the Speaker, he waited on him the firat day of the session and asked his per- mission to occupy a place within the bar of the House, where he would have proper facilities for hearing and noting the de- bates. He understood the Speaker to grant his request, and with professional prompti- tude, had_a desk made that day for the purpose. When, however, he appeared the next morning at the bar with his desk he was informed by the Speaker that there was no room within the bar for him or bis desk, and he must take his notes as best he could outside of ft. Exeluding the Press. ‘This he did for some time, until on a cer- tain cecasion, the Speaker having ordered the arrest of a man in the gallery for dis- orderly conduct, Mr. Smith made a report of the case, et which the Speaker took of- fense, and gave orders that Smith should be excluded from the House. The order was communieated to him by the sergeant-at- arms. Smith then asked if the Speaker's order was intended to exclude him from the gallery also, to which the sergeant replied he thought not. Thereupon the reporter re- moved to the gallery, where he proceeded to take his notes. The Speaker pursued him even there, however, and gave orders that he should not be allowed to take his notes there. An interview with the Speaker de- veloped the fact that he had determined not to allow the reporter to take notes at all, as, in his opinion, the reports of the debates did the Speaker and his party injustice. Thereupon the reporter resolved to appeal to the House, and he presented a memorial signed by himself and Thomas Carpenter, also a newspaper man, asking to be allowed seats within the bar of the House for the purpose of reporting its proceedings. The memorial was referred to a committee, con- sisting principally of the Speaker's political friends, who reported that it was “not ex- pedient” to-take. action on it, A debate ensued in which the whole mat- ter was ventilated, Mr. Nicholas of Vir- ginia leading the forces in behalf of the rights of the press, and the Speaker de- fending his own action. When the vote was taken there were 45 in favor of sus- taining the committee and 45 against it. The Speaker gave the casting vote in favor of the committee and himself. The progress of ideas has worked a revolution since that time, and now 200 or 300 representatives of the press are furnished with the best ac- commodations tor hearing and reporting the proceedings of the House. The attempt of a Speaker a few years ago to exclude a distinguished correspondent -from the re- porters’ gallery resulted in the political de- struction of that Speaker. Mr. Smith, in spite of the obstacles placed in his way by the Speaker, continued to report the de- bates and proceedings of the House, and when, in February, 1801, the House sat with closed doors during the eventful con- test for the presidency between Jefferson and Burr his paper contained not only the results of the ballots, but the individual votes of each member of the House. He was the first to establish a successful news- paper in Washington. The first paper published in the city was a_semi-week issued by Mr. Benjamin Moore in 17: The editor, in his salutatory, announced the object of his journal to be “to obtain a living for himself” and “to amuse and inform his fellow mortals.” He does not seem to have succeeded in cithe: for his journal disappeared after a very brief and precarious existence. Gales and Seaton. In 1807 Joseph Gales came to W; ington to take the position cf reporter on the In- telligencer. Two years after he was taken irto partnership by Mr. Smith, the latter shortly after withdrawing from the paper, leaving Gales its sole proprietor. He drop- ped the latter half of the paper's title, and it appeared after that time as “The Na- ticnal Intelligencer,” under which name ft was for more than fifty years one of the most influential journals of the country. On January 1, 1813, Mr. Gales associated with himself in the ownership of the In- telligencer, William Seaton, and the paper flourished ‘under their joint management wntil the death of Mr. Gales in 1860. Mr. Seaton continued to publish it until the end of 1864, when he retired at the age of eighty. Up to 1820 Gales and Seaton did their own reporting, Mr. Gales attending in the Senate and Mr. Seaton in the House. They received more consideration than Mr, Smith, and were assigned seats by the side of the presiding officer in each house. Up to 1801 the federal party had held un- interrupted possession of the government, sirce its establishment under the Constitu- tion in 1750; Washington having held office eight years, and John Adams four. But when Mr. Adams took possession of the President's house in November, 1800, it was in the shadow of defeat, and with knowledge that his occupancy would o: be for a few months. The elections h throughout the country had already fore teld the triumph of the republican y y under the leadership of Thomas Jefferson-Burr Conte: The republicans were, of course, delighted with their triumph, and Jefferson, who v the untversal choice cf his party for T dent, was overwhelmed with congr. tions. In a short time, howeve: to be whispered that there was a con deprive Jefferson of the presidency by the election of Burr. they each received was equal, the election was relegated to the House cf Represent: As the number of votes | —uei 13 was elect Feceived the votes of ten states, while Burr received the votes of four, and two states, — and South Carolina, cast a blank In this contest in the House, Hamilton, knowing that the choice must be between Jefferson and Burr, and having a just ab- horrence of Burr's character, threw his in- fluence in behalf of hie old antagonist, Jef- . Burr attributed his defeat to Ham- fiton, and the consequence was the duel, in Which the latter was - mortally wounded. To avold any such obsiruction of the popu- lar wil! as was exhibited tn the Jefferson- Bvrr contest in the House, the constitu- tional provision for the election of President and Vice President was subsequently changed by the adoption of the \twelfth omendment. The announcement of Jefferson's election was a great relief to the whole country, which had hung for a week in breathless suspense upon the proceedings of the House. Couriers were dispatched to all the principal cities, who rode night and day to carry the news. In Washington, which, as the capital, was more interested than any other city in the stability of the govern- ment, the rejoicings were universal, regard- Jess of party. New Jersey avenue, then the principal street in the city, was liluminated, and a banquet was improvised by an en- thusiastic patriot, at which everybody was tcasted and the best of feeling prevailed. think THE COLONEL A CONNOISSEUR. But He Got Badly Fooled in Buying a RS Capon. “Major,” said the colonel, as the two very well-known and deservedly pcpular citizens were regaling themselves at a de- jeuner a la fourchette on a recent Saturday, “Major, in the matter of game of all kinds, fish, flesh and fowl, I am a connoisseur. “I wouldn't allow your enemy, if you have cne, to say otherwise,” said the major. “Yes, sir; I'm a connoisseur,” reiterated the colonel, and I will enlighten you upon oe gastronomical fact, and that is that at this season cf the year a fine, fat, juicy capon is an epicurean poem. It filis in the gap between spring chicken and turkey. it is now too late for spring chickeu and too early for turkey. Major, I'm going to market after we conclude this litile feast and buy a fine Philadelphia capon. You shall go with me, and tomorrow at 2 o'clock —we dine early on Sundays—you shall dine with me. We'll have roast capun und some rare old Burgundy.” “Breakfast tomorrow morning will have no char for me,” said the major. “i here renounce and pass aside Unat meal, Capon at 2 p.m. I'll be there.” ‘these gentiemen, wfter lingering some while over their repast, went to market. The colonel bovght nis capon, and from his Proliciency of knowledge of game made the major the recipient of many imteresting Perrue to his Spartan resoli ‘rue na ution, the ignored his Sunday breakfast. He aamitved afterward that this was no great self-de- nial. He thought a good walk and plenty ot fresh air would put him in fine trim to help in the discussion, later on, of unc ca- Fon. He was on time at the house of his hospitable friend, end was met by the colonei’s estimable wife, who kindiy grected him ahd introduced him to atother iady, who would be one of the dining party. “We expected you, major,” said Mrs. Colonel. “The colonel will soon be in. He has gone out to get some fresh air. I think he said something about requiring a millivn acres of it, or something Mke that.” and stroked his silvery beard. ‘The good hostess divined the major’s thought. “Walk out into the dining room, major, and help yourself,” she said. “The coivnel filled the decanter this morning. The major went. Soon after he returned to the parlor the colonel came home. “Mornin’, major. Have you had a drink this morning “Not a drop,” said the major. The compliments of the season were ex- changed, and then dinner was ready. The colonel sharpened his carving knife to dissect the capon. “Colonel,” said the lady of the house, Phe cook says this is a very fine Shanghai en.” “Wha-at?” stuttered the colonel. “Hen? What, Shanghai? Where's any hen?” “This is a Shanghai hen, my dear,” said the lady. The evidence of that was in- dubitable, as she found when dressing the fowl.” “Great Julius Caesar's ghost!" ejaculated the connoisseur of game. “I"l—I'li just mur- der that poulterer. I'll horsewhip him, any- way. Now, I know, Mac,” he said, “a never hear the last of this confqunded chicken that that Center Market pirate loaded on me for a cayon. Next thing I know somebody will pass an Erie canal eel on me for a mountain brook trout, or a waddling barnyard goose for a canvas- back duck, or a derned, miserable, measly, pusillanimous, crawling mud turtle for a diamond-back terrapin. That will be my luck. Say, Mac,” he pleaded, “don’t men- tion this capon episode to any one, will you?” And the major said he would not. —— A Sensible Word From the South. From the Richmond Times, We repeat, it is not ignorance of what we have that keeps northern capital away from the south. It is kept away by two causes—cne the prevalent idea that we are a people given to violent methods instead of the peaceful ways of the law, and the other the idea that we think the casiest way to’ pay a debt is the best. The idea that we are a people who prefer settling personal differences with the pistol rather than by the process of the courts is one that has gone broadcast over the land, and if there is anything on earth that the cap- italist abhors it is a state of society in which that notion prevails. The other idea of our preference for the easiest method as the best method of pay- ing debts is just as fatal to us as the first. A great deal has transpired in our history within the past twenty-five years which has cultivated this idea as one of the most ratural of products. It is not necessary te go over that, as its effores- js Now sen all over the south in the for free silver and cheap money. > capitalist shuns the land where that is the political philosophy as he shuns a plasue-stricken district. It appears to us the height of idiotic folly to go around the south preaching free silver and cheap money, and then step over Mason and Dixon’s line and ask capitalists to bring their sound dollars into that same land, where they will be compelled to exchange them for rotten dollars. He Got Congh Medicine. From Detroit Free Press. A man with a cough that sounded like the whistle of a circus calliope rushed inio a drug store and asked breathlessly; “Got any rum?” Oricaus molecses?” guess 89.” ‘ited pepper and paregoric?” “You bet.” nen fill up this bottle at once—this ugh is killing me—ugh—ugh—ugh. Oh, I you might leave out the red pep put that in myself. nd » hold er d the m there's the paregorie, Come to ou'd better leave that out, too. saixture ” sald bottle bac you epper, said the flipping a silver half dollar on . “It wili be horrid, but a man cular the b -, him with one eye close. IMENDING FENCES The Vacation Amusement of the Average Congressman, SOOTHES THE DSGRONTLED VOTER A Sample Leaf From the Diary of a Candidate. HAVE A BUSY TIME Written for The Evening Star. : HE ADJOURN ment of Congress Goes not signify that - On the contrary, the next two months will be a _ busy time with them. Elec- tions are approach- ing, and those of them who have al- ready secured or ex- pect to get renomina- tions must see to the repair of their Po- litical fences. This business of mending fences is very difficult. It is tronage chiefly that breaks them down. The most important task of the candidate at home is © soothe the feelings of people who have not suceeded in getting the offices they ex- pected. If the Congressman belongs to the party in power, he must explain why he did not get places for this person and ‘that Such snarls are by no means easy to un- tangle. If he has not secured many offices for his constituents, he is apt to be turned down. The people want a -representative who can get things for them. So, likewise, do the local politicians. Some members are supposed to potsess special influence with the President and the executive depart- ments. The reputation is political capital to them. Each Congressman wants to have it understood im nis district that he bas a big, “pull” at Washington. ‘ongressman to the that 1s represented in the White Mouse, hie constituents expect him to push claims through for them off-hund. not make them understand why he is un- able to do this But, if he is not of the Farty in power, he escapes easily by say! that he can do nothing with a hos- tile inistration. He “has no infl “4 he says. It is a cold bluff, but it “goes.” This is u great stump year. In the fall canvass most of the members of the present Congress will take active part. them will speak nightly for the six weeks preceding the elections. Some of them will deliver from two to six speeches every day. For some time past they have been engaged, assisted by their clerks, in assem! ma- terial for these orations. The bigger mun, the greater the number of that will be expected from him. A of so little consequence that no will report him verbatim can use the speech right along in different places; a comparatively easy task. But it is wise with the conspicuous men, such Tom Reed, Crisp, The Electioneering Duties. From now until election the ambitious Statesman must travel through every town and bamlet in his district. He must go te to the con campaign committee of the party at Washington. The nominee whose election is a sure thing may take easy, having no fight on his hands. How- ever, if he is a man of national reputation, he will be expected to give help in other districts where his party is weak, Prob- ably Speaker Crisp has already received more than a hundred requests for such aid in the approaching campaign, during which he will be on railway trains most of the time, delivering orations at different points. In some parts of the country the wives of candidates for Congress take part in the electioneering, accompanying thelr hus- bands on campaign trips and helping to make a good impression on the people. The Congressman at home seeking re- election is a busy man indeed. For the sake of illustration, take a typical day as_ he may be supposed to be spending it at any time during the next two months: a.m.—He is waked up by Farmer Hay- sced on the way to market. That individ- ual wishes to inquire about the progress of an application for a pension for Aunt Cyn- thia, who is poor and rheumatic. The Con- gressman says that he will write to Wash- ington about it. 7 a.m.—Interruptead whnte shaving ‘by a young man with an inventive turn, who desires to know if the Congressman will see to the business of procuring a patent. 8 am.—Summored from breakfast by a Jocai politician of influence,, who gives notice that the opposition managers have discovered an alleged flaw in the Congress- man’s record, which js to be used as an argument against him i the campaign. He writes to Washington immediately for documents to disprove the allegation. 9 a.m.—A life insurance agent calls and speaks gloomily of the mortality among statesman at Washington recently. He talks for an hour about a policy thet will make the holler a millionaire in ten years, whether he lives or dies. The nm cannot afford to be uncivil, even to an in- surance agent, when he ts running for te- election. 10 a.m.—He goes by appointment to de- liver an address at a local church anniver- sary. Being the most conspicuous person preset t, he cannot well contribute less than $25 to a subscription that is taken up to pay off the mortgage. On the whole, it isa costly morning's recreation. - 1 a.m.—A local crank meets him out- side the church and asks for a complete set cf the census report of 1890. He button- holes the Congressman, and insists on talk- inz politics. m.-He finds waiting for him at home three people who want to know about their pensiot s; also a man who wishes to inquire why he has not received certain seeds prom- ised to him some time back. The Congress- man makes a memorandum of the matter. 1 p.m.—Interrupted as he is sitting down to-lunch by a bicycle maniac, who wants to get certain government maps to help him find gcod roads. 2 p.m.—Another local politician calls and asks for $200 to pay certain incidental ex- penses of the campaign. The Congressman writes a check and gives the visitor a drink of whisky and a cigar. The politician ts encouraged by these refreshments to stay a while and talk. 3 p.m.—A widow calls and appeals for the Congreseman'’s influence in procuring an appointment for her boy to the Military Academy at West Point. Women never know when to go—that is, when they come to talk business. This case is no exception. 4 p.m.--A chronic office seeker drops in to express his disappointment at not getting @ job under the government. He ts followed by an agricultural person with whiskers, who wants to know if the Congressman cannct procure for hizn some of the seedling trees which are distributed gratis by the Department of Agriculture. 5 p.m.—A number of importent letters | have to be written, notwithstanding Inter- ruptions by another pension applicant and a committce that comes to invite the Con- gressman to speak al a religious revival in the nity. ¢ p.m.—Dinner eaten hastily In order to enable the Congressman to be present at @ political gathering in a neighboring town, where he expected to make a long oration showing up the party of the opposition, It is midnight before he gets home. RENE BACHE. i ies No Virtue Like Consistency. From the Wahoo Wasp. The 4 constant drop of water ‘cars the hardest stone; tant ghaw of Towser Masticates the tougbest bene, ‘The constant cooing lever maid; Carries of the blushh Us the one who gets the trade And the constant advert