Evening Star Newspaper, November 10, 1894, Page 15

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1894—TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. 15 boots full of water and underclothing and trousers asoak to the waist. The afternoon was superlatively abom- Inable. A fog came down upon us and then a drizzling ~ain. It would be impossible to describe the discomfort of our surroundings during the remainder of the day. The sea wet us up to our middles, the rain com- pleted the job to the top of our heads, and where the two together left a dry thread TOIL AND PERIL The Wellman Party's Hazardous Re- treat Amid Moving Ice. etc Be the perspiration produced, by our hard work came to the rescue. We had hoped to make the other side of the bay in order WEARY JOURNEY 10 WALDEN ISLAND t reach arireweot and be atte to enjoy the luxury of a fire, but perceived that it would ————__—->——_—_ be impossible, and about 6 In the evening sent Capt. Pedersen and a crew ahead with the Parry to pick out a safe floe upon which to maxe camp. ked to the Skin. Amid the Rotten Ice in Crossing Dove Bay. When within forty feet of the spot which awh Capt. Pedersen had selected for this pur- pose, Mr. Alme, the meteorologist of our expedition, leaped across a tidal crack, ATLAST, DRY LAND as he had leaped hundreds of times during the past few days, and fell in a faint upon a small ,piece of ice in the middle of the channel. Boervig rushed to his assistance, and as soon as the boat had teen made safe the men picked up their injured com- panion and carried him to the camp place. Dr. Mohun, who was back with the Lock wood, was sent for at once, and on exami- 184, All rights reserved.) CAPE- WHITNEY, July 10, 1804. (Copyrighted, by Walter Wellman. UR RETREAT TO- ward Walden Island was hazardous anl laborious, The heat of the ‘summer sun had by this time cov- ered much of the ice with fresh water, and the tides had broken the heavy ice so much that it was filled with cracks and pools. At one time it ty looked as if we had O : & * ween fairly trapped by the shifting of the mass between the How Dry Land Was Reached. Reps and Walsh Islands. Throush the | pation he found Alme suffering with a strait runs a strong tide, or “rip,” and] padly sprained ankle and a broken bone in there the ice is nearly always moving to| his foot. “It {s a worse injury than a dal tees 1k in this “rip” that Capt.| broken leg of the simple sort,” said Dr. Pedersen and I nearly lost our lives a few | Mohun, but we took care that the patient should not learn of the extent of his hurt. The poor fellow, on recovering from his faint, greatly felt the effects of the tre- tmrendous shock to his nervous system, and s here our retreating ve to effect a cross- days ago, and It w y found it Ing where a week before we had rowgd | Ire shocks to Bie , ayatert, and hro hs * eing unable to think very clearly in his through an open lake. A day and a night | condition it seemed to him that we should waited for a chance to push our way | be compelled to leave him to his fate out e heavy, grinding mass, and the ars of our vigil came near being marked by a tragedy, with myself as the | victim, ali owing to a bit of imprudence pborn pride. | here in the desert of ice. It did not take us long to reassure him on this score and to promise him that he should have every care which our resources could command, s en at the expense of much undesired de- A more miserable dozen men than we | this Sunday evening it would be difficult lid sleep out on the rnoon, I volunteered le the men slept. It was | to imagine. The rain continued, and a 1 night I had yet seen in the | Smart northerly wind came blowing from arctics. Not a leaf or twig could have | off untold miles of ice fields. In our soaked condition, and many of the men with noth- ing dry to put on, there was only one warm ¢ in the camp, and that snugly en- sconced within the reinskin bags, which, heaven be praised, were reasonably dry, and to crawl into these bags as quickly as possible and to remain there as long as the law would allow was the confessed am- bition of ambitions with every one of us. Under the circumstance® we had a good was wrapped in reinskin, puffing at his geod old pipe and thinking that life in the rei water soaked, cold, hungry, weary, is not without its compensations, after all. A Hard Road to Travel. JULY 9.—Our floe did not break up during the night, and lighter tce did not ride upon it and push us off, but the north wind drifted us one and a half miles to the south, or c contrary to the direction in which we - wanted to go, but, fortunately, no farther from the shore. It was hard work this morning to pull on our wet boots and don our wet trousers, coats, &e.—everything was as full of water as the night before—but, like a cold bath, it was all right after the first plunge. Mr. Alme had had a good Carrying Mr. Alme Ashore. quivered in the wind, nor a thistledown stirred, had there been such a thing as a tree or a thistle within a thousand miles. ‘The great fields of ice lay absolutely mo- tionless between tides. There was Ice every- where—on the sea outside, in the strait, on night's rest, thanks to the opiates which Dr. the mountain tops, in the air—for with @ | Mohun had administered, but it now began Imost burning heat the mercury | to dawn upon the brave fellow that he was rated only 20 degrees. The arctic still- | tn for a long siege. We shall have to carry , the perfect stiliness, of which so much has been written, was not present. From the mountain side could be heard the tush- ing of the glacial torrents on their turbu- lent way to the quiet deep. A few ducks were crooning in a water pool,near by. A big black Thief Joe, pirate of the bird world of the far north, was pursuing a poor gull round and round and up and down and ter- rifying the poor innocent into a series of outcries. When all other noises failed, the snoring from our camp rang out clear and strong from the throats of four Norwegians sleeping in the open air and another Nor- sian and two Americans under the boat awning: We were now joinéd by Dr. Mohun end his three men with the Parry and set out him at least as far as Walden Island, but this we are all willing to do, for no man was stronger or more eager in harness than he. Capt. Pedersen and I set out right after breakfast to explcre the road. The rain had ceased, but still the weather was exceed- ingly raw and disagreeable. We thought of the experiences which Sir Edward Parry and his men had that cold, rainy summer of 1sz7, when for sixty-seven days on the polar pack they saw the sun but an average of once a week. Had we been fortunate enough to reach the edge of the pack, as Parry was, we should willingly have endured the same amount of discomfort, satisfied that with our superior equipment we could have made at least the eighty-fifth degree of north lati- tude. As the doughty captain and I set out to recross Dove bay. It was a most diff- | our horizon was bounded by a bank of fog cult crossing, and at one time it looked as | Which surrounded us and cut off vision at a if we should not be able to get through at | distance of a quarter of a mile. This little all. The surface was not so very rough, | world of ours was a reeking mass of rotten for row the tee is fast wasting away by | ice, interspersed by black holes as deep as thawing and evaporation, and all the | the sea itself, and by long, waving cracks, sharp corners are worn round and oft. | more or less filled with small pieces. It was The tidal action which opened up the Jake |_ most discouraging road, but we were so for us between the tslands has also cut up | anxious to escape the dangers of the shift- the ice in Dove bay, producing tnnumera- | {ng rotten ice, which needed only a gale to ble cracks and mueh rotten Ice. For three | involve us in difficulties from» which we days we floundered about in this discour- and for an idea of our stru; labors and dangers I refer you to the tracts from my journal: Test of the Equipment. had not been out an hour might never be able to extricate ourselves, that we decided to start for the shore. Mr. Alme was made as comfortable as possible in a bed in the Lockwood, and, with our loads increased by his weight as well as the weight of several hundred pounds of water |and moisture, we started out. Bad as the 1 was at the start, it constantly grew worse. We went from one rotten piece to | another—how, it would be difficult to tell. A 7.—We this morning before every man in the party | ro July was wet to his middle, and those who took the trouble to change their wet clothing | bs |The men worked like heroes, and it is a for dry had thelr pains for nothing, for in | creat pity the fog prevented Mn Dodge from a few minutes they were Wet again. For | getting some good photographs of the my pert, I did not bother to change, but | scenes. plodded along all day with one-half of the Through Rotten Ice. person soaking and did not find it very In ten minutes we were all wet again to uncomfortable. It is nothing when you get | cur waists, and after being once wet the accustomed to ft, and by this time we know too well what itis. At times it was almust |'™¢" Stew ‘reckless, and actually risked their lives in their eagerness to shove the boats along. For awhile our work was through rotten ice for quite a distance by dint of breaking up the margins of the pieces with oars rnd boat hooks. ‘Then we entered fce that was neither soup uor flesh. It was like the water of the Mis- souri river, too thin to cut with a knife end too thick to eat with a spoon. It se2med impossible to advance in any way, for there was too much ice to admit of float- ing our boats and too little to afford a sur- face gver which to pull them. Here Capt. Pedersen and his crew of gallant Nor- wegians came to the rescue in fine style. Taking the Lockwood ahead, with the tn- jured man lying in his bed calmly smoking his pipe and surveying the scene, they started on with all the speed they could command, the {tce breaking as they went along and letting them into the water, but holding them just long enough to permit them to keep going, the men in front find- Ing footing all the way from one to three feet below the surface and those aft com- pelled to ride half the time. In this fash- fon they rushed the Lockwood from one solid piece to another, carrying a line with them which was attached to the Parry and her two sledges. ‘As soon as the Lockwood's crew were safe upon a good plece of Ice, the four officers drew the Parry to the edge of the floc upon which she had been resting, and then the comical to see one of the boats plowing through the rotten tce and we poor devils jumping from one submerged floe to another up to our hips in water and compelled tly to ride upon the boat and partly to p from plece to plece in order to keep from going in up to our necks. Once in awhile a man would go right through a rotten hole that had every appearance of being solid and strong. By hanging to the beat he was pulled out, and the men, al- Ways good natured, laughed and joked at | seven Norwegians hauled on thelr line and their own accidents. drew the Parry fying through the channel We had today a splendid chance to test | which the Lockwood had cut. Thus we the merits of our equipment. Just as it | Made our way from floe to floe through the has withstood the shocks of work in hard, rough Ice, go it has endured the water holes and tidal channels. We have never had to stop to change our method cf operations on account of fear of wetting our provisions. The sledges take to the water as kindly as the boats, and you would be astonished to see how um sledges are banged trailing after the boats, diving peadlong into Ing through rotten {ce or jury to themselves or con- and that while we can or flat-bottomed sledges miserable {ce, and after several hours of this clever work on the part of our sailor men, had the infinite satisfaction of reach- ing dry land and ample quantities of drift- wood. WALTER WELLMAN. <o0——__—»— How to Ventilate a Church, From the Poughkeepste Star. ‘The proper ventilation of churches is a subject that ought to recelve more careful attention, especially during the season when fires and closed windows are in order. We know of church auditoriums that are, to all practical purposes, hermetically sealed tm- mediately after the Sunday service and never opened again until the following Sun- hile all the bad air incident to together of any number of people fs left to stagnate and work its bane- | ful influence upon the next congregation. i “pnis ts all wrong. Churches should be thoroughly alred after every service. Open : caking | the windows and let God’s pure alr and sun- willing alongside as | shine have free circulation during the week, hetr footing crum-j and see to {t that there fs an abundant & away ent! ly for Sunday. We believe there is ‘e true worship {n a well-ventilated ch than In a surpliced choir, and in a the sexton is more to inattentive congrega- | tion than the parson himself. Vitlated alr is neither conducive to the health of the body nor to the soul. How can a man be spiritually minded” when he fs half asleep? The devil must chuckle when he sits down with the congregation im a poorly ventilat- jed church. ost miserable | fenced, and fin ime i through, and best they o 5 bling beneath ther adi wi t stockings on agi of this, and exce @ry stockings curing man of us plodded along 4 nner hour ever, tl evening, with supper, and within ten minutes every one | [can HOW TO BE HAPPY The Condition of the Liver Said to Be Important. IN OLD AGE AND IN CHILDHOOD A Wie is Looked Upon as Affect- ing the Mind’s Peace. THE VARIOUS IDEALS Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. T HE TWO CHIEF factors in a man’s happiness,” remark- ed a local philosopher recently, “are his liv- er and his wife.” “How about the lungs,” he was asked. “The lungs don't count,” sald the phil- osopher} “‘consump- tives are a hopeful, merry race, but it is the dyspeptic, the fel- low whose bile is not under proper regulation, the wretch who has to keep eternally dieting himself, that is the unhappy one. As for the wife, well, I have known men who were tolerably hap- py with very mean wives, but it is not com- mon. On the whcle, however, the wife is not so important in this matter as the Lver.” It is really remarkable what an important part In the happiness of the human race is played by that big glandular organ situated on the right side of a man’s anatomy just above his stomach. Yet, it is alluded to less frequently than far less important organs, A person taps his forehead and speaks of Lis brains; he puts his hand on his heart and sighs to his lady love; but 1f you ask him to put his hand over his liver, he will begin feeling around his waistcoat, and hardly know where it belongs. Yet, as soon as it gets out of order, a deep gloom and de- spondency settles upcn him. He cannot ad- mire anything in nature or art. He is cross with his family and his clients. Very little in life appears to be worth living for. Here is a case in point: A great Englsh writer once went on a journey and kept a diary which was printed after his death. On Monday he describes w! he sees in the most doleful language. The enery 1s bad, the people are poverty-stricken wretch- es, he meets none who are not fools. On Tuesday the country is beautiful and all the people are thrifty and intelligent. Yet he has not moved far, and you are at a loss to comprehend why there is this sudden change, until you read closely, and then you see that on Monday he alludes to an attack of indigestion, and on Tuesday he says It has disappeared. The country and the peo- ple were the same, but the liver was not. Bad and Good Wives, There is a certain individual in Wash- ington who 1s a most agreeable, happy fel- low on all the days of the week, yet he Is hardly tolerable on Sunday. He snaps at everybody and growls incessantly. People who know him well avoid him on that day. ‘The reason of it all is that he regularly eats tee many hot wattles for his Sunday break- rast. Every man has a liver, but not all men have wives; but if one has both and they are both good, there 1s not much cause for unhappiness. ‘And if one 1s cursed with a bad liver, but Is blessed with a good wife, the kind attentions of the latter do much to mitigate the depression arising from the former. Similarly a bad wife is mitigated by a good liver. If she {ts cross, or unkind, or neglectful, or jealous, you may be abie to stand it, if your appetite Is good and you suffer no discomfort after eating. Bache- lors, widowers and divorced men are, of course, not to be considered in this matter. ‘The first named, unless they are too young to marry, have no particular right to be happy, because they are avoiding one of the great responsibilities of life. If they are teo poor to marry that Is another thing, but unless they are blessed with peculiarly elastic temperaments, they are not happy. Widowers ought to be unhappy mourning for their wives. If they are not, they near- ly always marry again, and divorced men, or men who are separated from their wives, should always be wretched. If the trouble 1s caused by the wife’s misconduct, the hus- band ought never to ce@se grieving over it; and if he is at fault, his conscience will see to it that he knows no contentment. As for the kind of wife that will make a man happy, t all depends upon _condi- tions which change. One husband may have a tendency to run wild and he needs a wife who will make him behave himself, for a wild husband is never a happy man, and another may be Inclined to be too tame, and requires a wife who will rouse him and keep him from stagnation. Ninety- nine men out of a hundred require to be managed or they will make themselves un- happy. The same thing {s true of the wive! too. They expect the husband to minister to their happiness, and the husband who — to do so ought to be ashamed of hgn- self. Money and Happiness. Now, while the liver and*the wife are un- questionably very important factors in a man’s happiness, there are a number of other things that should not be overiooked. For one thing, there is the eter: question of money. A middle state is, of course, the most desirable, and there is such a thing as extreme grinding poverty, which*makes happiness almost out of the question, unless the unfortunate strugglers are too stupld to feel it. You can’t help feeling a little ex- asperated with the feilow who goes about apparently without a care on his mind,when there {s not enough dinner at home, and his wife and children are in rags. His poverty may not be his fault, but somehow or cther there is a general impressiun that he ought not to be happy under It. Yet if you ask a rich man who has made all his money what was the happiest part of his life, he will probably tell you that it was when he was poor, and you will be quite certain to smile incredulously and say you are willing to take the chances of the unhappiness that comes from being rich, This is only human nature, and there must be considerable affectation in this pretended admiration of poverty by men who Jo not feel it. There is probably no man who will not admit that the aim of iife is happiness, and that he will do everything he cun to be happy. Then, if the rich man 1s not as happy being rich as he was when he was poor, why does he not become poor egain? Nothing is easter. Any orphan asylum will take all of his money if he offers it, or he can give it to his friends. They are willing to sacrifice themselves in order that he inay be happy. The truth is that a rich man who is not happy “feels certain that he would be a great deal less happy if he was poor, and he has no desire to try the experhaent. Yet happiness {s not usually found among very rich people. They have nothtag to look forward to, and the consequence is that time drags with them. They are surfelted with the good things of life and cannot ap- preciate them as much as poorer people uo. Still They Are Miserable. ‘They byy everything material, but there are many things they want that they can’t buy. They can’t buy popularity for one thing, and nearly everybody likes to be Mked and {s rot happy If he believes he ts disliked. It is easy, however, to imagine that a v rich man who got his money honestly, and who 1s a philanthropist, may be happy, and the great George Peabody must have been one of this kind. Certainly his face {s that of a happy man, and he deserved the blessing of happiness almost more than anf man that ever lived, but he had no wife, and this may have been a cause of grief to him, as it {s to most men similarly situated. Of coarse no one must confound a happy man with @ prosperous one. Thus, a man may have a fine house, a large fortune, an enviable position in a community, and you yery properly say that he {s prosperous; but the same person may have a cross, hard- ined wife, a disordered liver, a tendency fo melancholy and a miserably tormenting temper. He in consequence wretchedly unhappy all the time, and his neighbor, who just pay house rent, who has never succeeded at anythi who doesn't know what prosperity ds, y be as happy as a lark, just because he has a good tem- per, a fine digestion and a sweet wife. Some People's Ideals, There are some people who have an idea that they will be happy when they reach a stage where they care:for mobody and are indifferent to the opinion ef other people. They can then concentrate their whole at- tention on themselves,.and@ by ministering solely to thelr own ‘wants escape any trouble which arises from attending to the wants of other people. “To be without friends is their ambiticn, and there is no other ambition so easily attained; but sup- pose they gét Into trouble; what are they going to do? They have never helped any- body—how can they expect to be helped themselves? They find themselves in a most pitlable state, and they begin to wish, when It 1s too late, that they had ordered their lives differently. They are almost as bad as that other class who think that perfect bliss comes to the person who has effectually destroyed his conscience; but when a man reaches such a pinnacle of depravity, so to speak, that he can escape all self-punishment, he may depend upon it that the rest of the community will take a hand in the matter and give him atl the punishment he thinks he has avoided, and more, too. There are jails built for these men and gallows also. They do not attain much real happiness. “What was the happiest time of your life?” The gentlerran to whom the question was put has lived in Washington for many years, but before that lived pretty much everywhere, and has now reached an age which precludes the possibility of his look- ing forward to anything but a decade, at most, of serene comfort before he goes to join the great majorit: He thought over it a while and then ai “Just after I had left college, when I had a little money given to me by my father and was studfing my prof You see, I had everything to look forw: to, and I had had sc little experi I believed almost anything was possibl “But you must have had many di pointments, ond they must have been bit- ter?” Youth and Old Age. he answered, “the disappointments came later. The true way to be happy is to be in a state of expectancy and hope- fulness, I had a few years of great un- happiness when I began to find that I got few of the things I really wanted and that when I did get those few they were not what I had expected them to be. Then I came more modest in my desires, and 4 considerable happiness in such suc- chieved. Then I retired from and have killed time with tolera- ble contentment ever since.” There you have the manhood life of an 1, who ts not a great man, e his life unu ual. other of hundreds of thou- sands of old men. Yet the next man who was asked on this He ts like any point declared that his old age had by the happiest part of his life because then he was not afraid of any more disap- pointments. Before he reached that period he had been so haunted by f of dis- appointments and had, in truth, had so many that he could hardly rest ‘at nigh! Now, he said, the future had no_terro for him. He ‘thought anticipation was so mixed with fears that its pleasures were destroyed. There was nothing to look for- ward to, it was true, but that implied that there was no trouble to look forward to. The absence of pain was what he conceived to be pleasure. You will find some people, too, who look back upon their childhood as the happiest period of their lives because it waa free from care, but a child has, his cares just as much as an adult. The only thing is that old people have often forgotten them and cn that account ure inclined to belittle them. JAPAN'S QUEER ROBBERS. te and Require Their to Be Moral, Mr. Lafcadio Hearn, in the paper “From My Japanese Diary,” in the November “At- lantic,” tells of a robbery in the house of his neighbor, the dyer: He told me a queer story about robbers. Dyers are peculiarly liable te be visited by robber: the silks intrusted to them, and also be- cause the business is known to be lucrative. One evening the family were robbed. The master was out of the city; his old mother, his wife and a female servant were the only persons in the house at the time. Three men, having their faces masked and carry- ing long swords, entered the door. One asked the servant whether any of the ap- prentices were still in the building, and she, hoping to frighten the invaders away, an- swered that the young men were ail’ still at work. But the robbers were not dis- turbed by this assurance. One posted him- self at the entrance, the other two strode into the sleeping apartment. The women rted up in alarm, and the wife asked, Why do you wish to kill us?” He who seemed to be the leader answered, “We do not wish to kill you; we want money only. But if we do not get it,then it will be this,” striking his sword into the matting. The old mother said, “Be so kind as not to frighten my daughter-in-law, and I will give you witatever money there is In the house. But you ought to know that there cannot be much, as my son has gone to Kioto.’ She handed them the money draw- er and her cwn purse. There were just 27 yen and 84 The hy robber counted it and said, quite gent! We do not want to frighten you. We know you are a very devout believer in Buddhism, and we think you would not tell a lie. Is this all? “Yes, it is all,” she answered. “I am, as you say, a bellever in the teaching of Thud- dha, and !f you come to rob me now, I be- Heve it 1s only because I myself, in some former life, once robbed you. This {s my punishment for that fault, and so, instead of wishing to deceive you, I feel grateful at this opportunity to atone for the wrong I did to you in my previous state of e ence.” The robber laughed, and said, “You are a good old woman, and we believe you. If you were all poor we would not rob you at all. Now we only want a couple of kimono and this," laying his hand on a very fine silk overdress. The old woman replied, “All my son's kimono I can give you, but I beg you will not take that, for tt does not belong to my son, and was confided to us only for dyeing. What is ours I can give, but I cannot give what belongs to another. “That ts quite right,” approved the robber, “and we shall not take it.” After receiving a few robes, the robbers said good night, very politely, but ordered the women not to look after them. The old servant was still near the door. As the cbief robber passed her he said, “You told us a lie-so take this,” and struck her senseless. None of the robbers were ever caught. e+ In the Window Garden. From the Philadelphia Press, The plants that have been taken to the window garden should be ailowed plenty of fresh air during the first month or two. Not to blow directly uponthem, of course, especially when it ts frosty,;but admitted so that it will reach them ‘efter passing through and mingling with the warm air in the same, or an adjoining foom. The plants should not be forced in any way when first taken inside, bit allowed to be- come accustomed to the ge from their outdoor freedom to their T quar- ters before they are coaxed to:bloom. When the plants again take on a/thrifty, content- ed look; when the leaves\-n@ longer turn brown and fall off; when Gewueaf buds be- gin to show and fresh growth starts, the supply of water may be -Incteased, lquid fertilizer may be given about once aweelt, and in a little while buds will start and flowers unfold all over the thrifty plants, and the blooming will be nvich more abund- ant than if it was forced earl} From Life. ‘I wouldn’t wanter be a football player. "' rather be a soldier; soldiers fight and get illed."* “Well, I guess football players get killed same as soldiers. partly by reason of the value of | THE SOUTHERN GIRL Julia Magruder Writes About the Sweet-Voiced Damsels. WITH THE GIRLS OF OTHER SECTICNS ——_.-___ More Beauty, if Less Style, Than Her Northern Sisters. —_—_+—_—_. MAIDEN OF THE HOUSEHOLD ——_+——— Written for The Evening Star. XPERIENCE teaches us all the a profound truth of old maxims and ac- cepted axioins, and although we may doubt these in early youth, the time comes when we subscribe to them, as the ac- cumulated wisdom of the ages. This, by way of preface to the statement that the southern girl is very reuch what tradition has painted her, and the points in which she differs from her sisters of other sections, be it to her ad- vartage or to theirs, are those which are the generally accepted ones. There seems little question that she has more beauty, if less good style and knowledge of the world. So, too, her voice is sweeter, though what she utters may not be so learned, and her limitation of range must be admitted. Her manner 1s franker, kinder, freer, though it !s very far removed from knowingness as to the correct mode in the elevation of a handshake, or the not-folding of a napkin. Indeed, the very absence of knowledge of the world is what gives her her individuality and makes her a distinctive type. It has often been ob- served that, when a southern girl travels, she takes on polish and worldly culture with a surprising ease, and with the basis of her natural advantages becomes a creature of tremendous charm; but, all the same, travel and contact with European civilization is destructive to the peculiar flavor of the southern girl pure and simple. It may produce something better than the type, but it destroys the type. In a Southern Ball Room, There Is one point, at least, where the southern girl is the superior of her visitors, and that is in her relation to her own sex. Let a strange girl come into a southern ball room, or reception, or afternoon tea, and she will find herself surrounded with a spirit of friendliness and welcome. Even the ordeal of the dressing room is turned from a trial to a privilege. She will find kind faces to look pleasantly at her, and kind hands ready to render her any little service, quite independent of the question as to whether they know who she fs or not. She*will find taat she is not stared at, either with approval or severity. If her gown ts beautiful, there will be no vulgar curiosity about It; and if it is dowdy or ugly, there will be no supercilious criticism ot glance. Contrast all this with the man- ner that obtains in a dressing room at the north, and the advantage will undoubtedly be on the southern side. In her manner of treating the opposite sex the southern girl has also her own va. She ts more free and easy, undoubted- ly, but a close study of her will reveal the fact that she 1s more apt to put a man on his honor than her sisters of other sections are. She 1s so unsuspicious of the possibili- ty of danger, that that very fact greatly decreases the danger. The best type of swuthern girls may do, in public, what a northern girl would consider fast; but the chances are that her private actions would radict such an impression. She has the southern attribute of spon- neous feeling and warimth of heart, and this will always be found stronger in her than conventionality, The New Yorker's Story. An illustration of this occurred some time ago, in the north, where a New York man was heard describing to a southern girl the vast difference made in a man’s appearance by the doing away with an accustomed mustache. He said that when he first shaved off a mustache that he had worn for years he was riding in the park one day, when, suddenly, there crossed his path a lady of his acquaintance, on a horse that nad bolted at something and was running away. He dashed forward, and tried to catch her horse, but was unsuccessful. A litle further on, it was stopped by a police- man, who was holding the excited brute when the young man came up, exclaiming: k God! I thought you would be The narrator then described how rl had looked at him, coldly, and sai “I don’t think I know you, sir.” At this point the interested the story goes, exclaimed excitedly, te ener, 80 “Good gracious!” with true southern vehemenc “Yes; jus y,"" said the raconteur, “see- ing me without my mustache, she took me for a perfect stranger!” It was amusing to see the indignation of the southern girl, as she explained that what she had exclaimed at was. not that the rescued girl had taken him for a stranger, but that she had failed to recognize and féel grateful for sympathy, expressed by any one at all, on her rescue from a great peril. “What would a southern girl have done?” her companion inquired. “Why, she would have thanked him cor- dially, and they would probably have shaken and “Not really! How very charming!" said the northerner, in a tone by which he got himself hated from that hour. A Votary of Blood. But {f the southern girl 1s charming, she 1s also apt to be conceited, in a way, and so despise the advantages which she does not possess, She {s also indolent and without a due proportion in many things. She thinks lightly of learning, because she {s unlearned herself; she attaches no tmportance to art, becausa she knows nothing but nature. She 1s supremely indifferent about social vogue, because there fs literally no one whom she looks up to. She holds, backed up by the facts of history, that most of the good blood in the country is in the southern states, and, in a perfectly kindly way, she looks upon northerners, easterners and western- ers as less fortunate sisters, but, in spite of this cherished c«..viction, she is incapable of arrogance. Until lately—for it must be admitted that it is not now as true as formerly—she was Indifferent about money, but a stickler for blood. Enormous fortunes smacked to her of vulgarity, and she associated ideas of display and ‘commonness with them. Mere poverty, on the contrary, never had any aspect that was either unrefined or undig- alfied to her, and she had proved, by ex- erlence, that in this state all her ideals of jadyhood and good breeding could be fully realized. At Home. ‘The southern girl's position in the home is a pleasing, admivable and, in some ways, almost naive one, particularly as regards her attitude toward her mother. She ts very slow in outgrowing, and, in some cases, she never does outgrow the subser- viency and deference usually held to be only incumbent upon a daughter while very young. In so-ne instances, even a married woman, with children of her own, inno- cently recognizes the law of obedience to parents, and concedes to her mother the Tight to tell her what to do and what not to do, as she did in peopeg on In the same way she becomes a law to her own children, and th® modern spirit of arrogance toward parents often met with in other sections, is rarely found in the south. Indeed, the indefinable charm and Influence of the southern woman in her own home Is a thing for which she ts justly praised. The home life is still kept up, In many cases, by @ strict adherence to old usages—such as any fa oer which the servants are included, the singing of hymns on Sunday afternoons, the reading aloud in the family circle. In so many instances the southern irl is educated by her mother, wholly, or that her home associations and ness are unusually strong. In this way the daughters become the companions . of their mothers and frequently the bond between them partakes almost as much of the relation of sister as of parent and child. ‘This fact gives the girl an insight into the cares and responsibilities of her mother, and so leads her to share in these, by learning to make the desserts, do the preserving,ete., ete., all of which, at the same time, gives her the training for becoming the head of her own establishment. Another favorite pastime of the southern girl is the cultivation and care of flowers, the favorable climate giving great oppor- tunity for this, and in many instances the taste extends to the growing of vegetables and fruits. One southern girl, well known to the writer, recently made the experiment of cultivating such vegetables as were not commonly grown in southern gardens, arti- chokes, cauliflowers, etc., etc., and, after doing every bit of the work with her own hands, accomplished her purpose with the most brilliant success. Kindness to Inferiors. Another point on which a southern girl differs from her sisters is in her treatment of inferiors, and especially of servants. In the old slave times the servants were looked upon as members of the family, in a way, with identified interests and affections, and it is a relic of this system that causes the southerner now to treat servants with more feeling of a common humanity than ts shown in other sections. Another point of conceit in southern girls is their riding. They look with a fine scorn at the method and manner of a woman who has got her training in a riding school, and is prepared for no contingencies beyond the possibilities of riding school experience. She may hold her reins properly, sit with precision, know how to post and to make a thoroughly cor- rect appearance on horseback, but to a girl who has been brought up in the saddle, and scrambled for her experience, and who could take fences and ditches from the time she was a mere child, Holding her reins ac- cording to instinct, and relying on con- geniality of temperament between her horse and herself for results, that is not riding! Let it be understood that when the con- ceit, the indifference to education and the other faults of the southern girl are men- tioned, she is held to be charming in spite of these facts, and not because of them! While the more extended contact with the great world which is now coming about will undoubtedly deprive the southern girl of some of her “cachet,” she must derive a deep and important advantage from this broader experience. It has been said by some one that the greatest discovery of the nineteenth century is woman, and nowhere is this truer than In the south. By the force of inherent conditions woman in the south has been more hidden and retarded than elsewhere. The person who said that “In the creation man was the chief consid- eration and woman a mere side issue” voiced a generally recognized truth; but since the conditions regarding women have become freer everywhere, and have at last penetrated even to the southland of our country, there have been some surprising revelatiors made in a short time; superior talent has appeared in many cases, and in one instance certainly genius. So it will not do to speak with scorn of the southern girl, even in the very point in which she is acknowledged to be the inferior ‘of her northern sister -the point of mentallty. Such mentality, at least, as comes from earnest culture for culture's sake. Will There Be a Better? The southern girl of the old regime is passing away, with other things that pass, and we are not wholly consoled for her loss by the belief that we shall have something better. in her stead. As she travels more and becomes more of the world worldly, the freshness and fineness of her flavor will necessarily be dissipated. Even now we be- gin to notice and to half deplore the creep- ing in of innovations. When one of our southern beauties, for example, goes to the north and makes her record there, and wins her meed of praise, she comes home to us distinctly changed. She is better style, perhaps. She has learned a certain self- control and reserve. She is more distin- guished in her person and in her dress. All this she has gained, but there is an inde- scribable sometiing that she has lost. Again we recall the indisputable wisdom o: an axiom and say: “Nothing for nothing,” and we are thankful for the gain and rec- onciled to the loss! Men at Her Feet. Every one, certainly every man, has no- ticed the characteristic bearing of a south- ern girl toward men, especially in society. The traditions of many generations have taught her to take naturally the position that women must be sought, and with the southern girl of the best type this is para- mount still. As a result, men find that she pleases them, without effort, and the very absence of this effort, to which they are un- fortunately too accustomed, makes her in- finitely more pleasing. This gives her also, in many cases, the certain air of languor and indolence, which, in itself, invites to effort on the man’s part to rouse and please. Another lack in the southern girl is that energy and capacity for business and self- support which so characterizes her northern sisters, and which, in a population of such great female excess, cannot be too much re- joiced at, but this, too, costs something, and the southern woman who acquires it loses something of her charm. In conclusion, it is apropos to quote an anecdote published years ago, but having such a significance, in this connection that it may be repeated: In a Virginia town a very small specimen of the southern girl was looking out of the window, when she suddenly remarked to her aunt: “O, auntie, there go the Jones children! They are awful. You can’t tmagine how bad they are. They tell stories and disobey their mother, and everything; and if they are that when they are little, I just ex- pect they'll every one grow up to be Yan- kees!"" With this Inherent potnt of view, it is not surprising that the southerner is rather lamentably a creature of prejudice; and yet, when all is said and done, the young girls of that race, at least, are beings of such undeniable charm that one may well be for- given for retaining, even after full knowl- edge of them, a prejudice in their favor. JULIA MAGRUDER. oo Nothing New Under the From ‘Truth. When Guttenberg and Faust arrayed ‘Ther symbol types in line, Jobn Chinainan spoke up and said: “The art lias long been mine; My ancestors arranged them so Some 20,000 y # ago. Yet minus books, in primal dark, dobn sprawls bis scrawl and makes bis merk. When Watt had wedded steel to steam And made the bobbins st John Chinaman remarked: “I deem That trick an ancient thing; The Flowery Land had such a show Some 20,000 years ago.’ And yet ‘the whole celestial band Sull spin, as Hagar did, by hand. When Stephenson and Fulton tied ‘The piston to a wheel. And round the earth bade Commerce ride With wings upon its heel, John said: “My people traveled so Some 20,000 years ago.” Yet still, as when the race hegan, They always tote the old sedua, When thought first learned the way to fly ‘On Morse's telegraph, John shook his pigtatl reply, je ko-tow Observing with a li “This thing to China m: Some 20,000 years ago; But talkee—taikee ail ‘about— It was a bore; we drove it out." When Fdlson from nature stole Her secrets, one by one, ‘To Matter gave a tongue and soul, To Night a blazing sun, fan ait Out fathers used to know, me 20,000 years ago, These miracles, but, useless quite, We let them Vanish out of sight.” When Krupp's big cannon sent a shell ‘Through miles a balf a score, John said: “That's tolerably well For modern rifle bore; But we made powder, To crush Japan in When Queen Chicago rose anf spent Ter millions—royal sight! To show the world the continent Columbus brought to light, john said: “When we were out to row, me 20,000 Fears ago, We ran ‘against Fu Sang one day; ‘No good’ we found, and skipped &way."* John! O clatmant, almond-eyed! Bay Jerete one, thing older far ‘Than Faustus’ type und Morse’s pride ‘And Fulton's wagie cai Than Taj Mahal and Chin Yea, older, older, far than a!1 hhaine this canting, shamining, sly rt a led thing—A Lie. Eee woargrneaded hice “iW. a. oRoFFur. eos She Wasn’t at Home. From the New York World. Caller—Is Mrs. Watson at home? Bridget—Are ye Mrs. Greene? ‘aller—Yes. © Bridget—Then she ain't at home. WOMEN ALWAYS ‘TiRED Mrs. Henry Ward Beecher Says She Has Known But Half a Dozen Women Who Were Thoroughly Well. The Routine of Domestic Tasks Overdrains Their Nervous Force. “Among all my friends—and the number of mp Acquaintance has necessarily been rather large,’ suys Mrs. Henry Ward Beecher, “I can recall but balf a dozen thoroughly well women.” So many, in order to obtain the reputation of being good housewives, work from morning till night, cooking, sweeping and overhauling. Vat would the house look ke," they ask, “tt I were not constantly looking after it?” It would certainly look a good deal more home- like if the wife apd mother kept her health and high spirits instend of growing old and carewora from the struggle with dust and the neglect of thelr tired, aching nerves, and pale, watery blood that daily becomes more and more badly nourisbed. It 1s not the healthy weariness of muscle and brain, so easily forgotten after a good night's sleep; but it is the weartness that remains till morning, and. follows one through the day, that should cause anxtety and a desire for prompt relief. When the nerves and the blood have thus be- come 60 badly nourished and the strength thus re- duzed, food—food appropriate for building up the nervous tissue—and rest, are the plain and simple means, in fact, the only means of restoring vigor and health, All the material so urgently needed by the million of exhausted nerve cells and by, the thin, depleted blood, are found in that remark> able invigorator, that food for the brain and nerves, Palne's celery compound. It fills the nervous ang muscular tissues all over the body with the means of rapid growth, the blood gains new red corpuscles and grows ruddy and capable of thoroughly feeding the body. The strength returns, and headaches, dyspepsia, neuralgia and nervous debility disappear when the tone of the system has been thus raised and the body abundantly supplied with fresh, life giving blood. The very first week im which this perfect nerve food—Paine’s celery compound—is conscientiously, employed {t will declare its tonic effect by the feeling of returning strength, a marked increase in the appetite, freedom from pain and depression, Paine's celery compound cures radically and per manently rheumatism, heart weakness, diseases of the liver and the kidneys, and encourages the excretory organs to expel whatever impure humors there may be in the blood. This is evident by the healthier, clearer condition of the skin that phy- sicians say invariably follows when they prescribe Paine’s celery compound, as they so commonly 0 where the body needs building up and when re- covery is slow after acute diseases. Here is the experience of Mrs. E. L. Wing of Putney, Vt., told in ber own words: “I bad been’ afflicted with rheumatism and neu- raigia for many years. In a year and a balf I have taken eight bottles of Paine’s celery compound and have not been so free from these troubles im fifteen years as I am now. I advise all who are afliicted in any way with rheumatism or neuralgia to use Paine’s celery compound. “For the nerves and tired feelings I think it ts the best dose of ambition that I have ever found. Before I had taken one bottle I felt almost like another person. Other medicines have given me only temporary relief. But the compound has done me more permanent good than the doctors or any other medicine, and I can hardly feel grateful enough for the benefit that I have derived from its use." rn DEVICES OF SMUGGLERS. A Supply of Tobacco Concealed 1 Hollowed-Out Bible. From the Westminster Budget. Few people, we fancy, have ever seen the Smugglers’ Museum down the river at her rrajesty’s customs. Here is a short descrip- tion of a few of the curiosities which it ecntains, and a few sketches of the artful dodges of smugglers, Going upstairs we came to perhaps the most interesting part of the whole tour— the Smuggling Museum. . “There, sir,” said the little showman, a dry, witty person who would make his for- tune upon the stage, as he took down @ harmless-looking book and put it under his arm, “there ain’t much the matter with that, is there?” : I replied that it looked innocent enough in all conscience, for, indeed, if the truth must be spoken, {t was to all appearance an ordinary Bible. “Well, sir, that was carried by a gent got up as a Methody preacher. One day he was caught with this under his arm, and now look, sir.” I did, and lo! it was quite hollow, and filled, crammed with tobacco. A loaf of bread was oe in 4 hands. “'Ave a slice, sir?” ed the si man. I shook my head; it looked rather too stale. Carefully removing the top of it, my cicerone showed me that it was hollowed most carefully out, and that it was full of the best cigars. * I Kicked my foot against a log of wood that was lying at my feet, and I rather wondered that so shabby an article Should be lying about in a government office. “There you are, sir, exactly what them revenue officers kept a-doin’ of aboard 0° some o’ the ships they was on. One day they diskivers the orinary-looking bit 0” wood lyin’ careless like about the deck was holler, and they looks inside \d. finds it full o’ cut cavendish. But it w dodge, and no one would think it was any- thing else but a mere innocent bit o’ tim- ber” . Another book had a bottle of bi carefully and skillfully fixed inside of 1 A hollow concertina was probably a source of discord between Its owner and the dis- coverers of the improper use to which it had been put. For, instead of being full of the very spirits of harmony, it was found to have been a receptacle for very different kinds of spirits indeed. Then there was a shirt, crammed with pockets, and in which had ‘been stored away no less than 150 watches. The man who wore this was un- able to sit or Me in it, and throughout the whole voyage, presumably a short one, he had to stand the whole time; but on one occasion, having been delayed in a fog, and being thus compelled to remain upon hig feet for seventy long, weary hours, he fainted dead away when land was reached, and so fell pop ge clutches of the lynx- yed officers of the reven' ent of coal seemed to be Ike Caesar’! wife, absolutely above suspicion, but, tos: carelessly as it was upon the top of a whole ton of Welsh steam coal, it was yet dis- covered to have been but an ignominious sham, and hollowed out and full of cigars ‘and tobacco. —_—_——__+-+—____—_ Notice to Humorists. Tid-Bity, pipers ‘on the following subjects must not be sent in to Tid-Bits for the next ten years: ‘About mothers-in-law; dectors killing their patients; lovers occupying one chair and sitting up late at night burning gas, with the attendant expostulation of the trate rents; lovers frightened by watch dogs; Sairymen and watering of milk; borrow umbrellas, never returned; l'enfant terri- ble, who is alw: giving away his sister in the presence of her suitor; cae to find Docket In a rer while asieeps about people husband's pocket w! being photographed looking pleasant; curi- ous things knocked down at auctions; be cause one nods to a friend.