Evening Star Newspaper, December 8, 1894, Page 16

THE EVENING STAR, SaTURDAY DECEMBER 8, 1894—-TWENTY PAGES. —————— SIDE. € - HIS HEAD ON MOTHER WOLF'S IN THE JUNGLE LETTING pent iienticeinies Further Adventures of Mowgli. BY RUDYARD KIPLING. {Copyrighted.) ETTING IN THE Jengle” is a contin- uation gf the mar- elous tales of “Mow- xli’s Brothers” and “Tiger!Tiger!” Those who read the first stories will remem- ber how the tiger, Shere Khan, pur- eued a little Indian baby to the mouth of a cave, where it took refuge with Mother Wolf. The lame tiger demanded his prey, but after defying him, the pack adopted Mowgli the man-cub, and he was reared as one of the jungle folk, talking their language and hunting and living along with Bagheera, the black panther, and Baloo, the bear. It was when the pack revolted against Akcla, the old wolf, who, for years, had led them to battle, that Mowgli in a fit of rage quit the jungle. He went to live among men, but before his departure vow- #d never to return till he came to spread Shere Khan's hide over Council Rock. In the village Mowgli found his real par- ents, Messua and her husband, and, like a dutiful son, tried to conform to human habits and speech. But jungle intrigues followed him and when his arch enemy Shere Khan lay in walt thirsting for blood, his foster family, Mother Wolf, Grey Brother and Akela, gave the man-cub warning. Mowgli was a village herder at the time and cunningly he trapped his foe. The lame tiger was decoyed into a nar- row defile, and the angry bull buffaloes driven at a mad pace down the gorge till they trampled the last breath out of Shere Khan's body. In the moment of Mowsli's triu’ Buldeo, the village hunter, de- manded that the tiger skin be given him for the reward it would bring. His insist- Creeping on Their B: ance forced the man-cub to call upon Akela for assistance. Obedient to orders the old wolf sprung upon the hunter and pinned him to the ground, while Mowgli stripped off the gay hide. ‘Seeing the, beast’s 1m- Hlicit obedience Buldeo returned to the village, declared Mowgli a sorcerer, and when the boy returned driving his buffa- loes before him, the people stoned him from the gate. He then returned to the jungle, fulfilled his promise of carpeting Council Rock with Shere Khan’s hide, call- ed the pack together and after reinstat- ing Akela as leader, he said: ‘“Man-Pack and Wolf-Pack have cast me out. Now I will hunt alone in the jungle.” So Mowgli went away and hunted with the four cubs | In the jungle from that day on.—The Edl- tor. L You will remember how, after Mowgli had pinned Shere Khan's hide to the Coun- ell Rock, he told as many as were left of the Seeonee Pack that henceforward he would hunt fn the jungle alone, and the four children of Mother and Father Wolf said that they would hunt with him. But it 1s not easy to change one’s life all in one minute—particularly in the jungle. The first thing Mowgli did when the dis- orderly pack had slunk off, was to go to the home cave and tell Mother Wolf and Father Wolf as much as they could un- derstand of his adventures; and when he made the morning sun flicker up and down the blade of his shining knife—the same he had skinned Shere Khan with—they aid he had learned something. Then Ake- la and Grey Brother had to explain their share of the great Buffalo drive in the ravine, and Baloo tolled up the hill to hear all about it, and Bagheera scratched him- self all over with pure delight at the way in which Mowgli had managed his war. It was long after sunrise, but no one dreamed of going to sleep, and from time to time during the talk, Mother Wolf would throw up her head and sniff a deep sniff of satisfaction as the wind brought her the smell of the tiger skin on the Council Rock. “But for Akela and Grey Brother here,” eMowgli said at the end, “I could have done nothing. Oh, mother, mother, if thou hadst seen the black herd bulls pour down the ravine, or hurry through the gates when the man-pack flung stones at me!’ “I am glad I did not see that last,” said Mother Wolf, stiffly. “It is not my custom to suffer my cubs to be driven to and fro like jackals. I would have taken a price from the man pack, but I would have spared the woman that gave thee the milk. Yes, I would have spared her alone.” “Peace—peace, Raksha,” said Father Wolf, lazily. “Our Frog has come back On the Trai again—so wise that his own father must lick his feet; and what is a cub more cr less on the head? Leave the men Baloo and Bagheera both echoed: “Leave the men alone.” Mowgli, his head on Mother Wolf's side, smiled contentedly, and said that for his own part he never wished to see or hear or smell a man again. “But what,” said Akela, cocking one ear, “but what if the men do not leave thee alone, Little Brother?” “We be five,” said Grey Brother, looking round at the company, and snapping nis Jaws on the last wor: We so might att said bagheera, with a little switch-swit-h of his tail, looking at Be “But why k of men, now, Akela’ For this re: the Lone Wolf an- swered. “When that yellow thief’s hide was hung up, I went back along our trail from the village, stepping in my tracks, turning aside, scratching and lying dow to make a mixed trail in cgse one should follow us. But Xi, en I had fouled the trail so that I myself hardly knew it again, Mang, the bat, came hawki between the trees and hung up above me. Said Mang, “The village of the man-pack where they cast out the man cub hums like a hornet’s nest.’ ” “It was a big stone that I threw,” chuck- led Mowgli, who had often amused himself by throwing ripe paw-paws into a hornet's nest, and racing to the nearest pool before the hornets caught him. “I asked of Mang what he had seen. He said the Red Flower blossomed at the gate of the village, and men sat about it carry- ing guns. Now, I know, for I have good cause"—Akela looked down at the old cry scars on his flank and side—“that men do not carry guns for pleasure. Presently, Little Brother, a man with a gun, follows our tratl—if, indeed, he be not already on “But why should he? Men have cast me out. What more do they need?” said Mowgli, angrily. ‘ “Thou art a man, Little Brother,” Akela returned. “It is not for us, the Free Hunt- to tell thee what thy brethren do, cr y He had just time to snatch up his paw as the skinning knife cut deep into the ground below. Mowgli struck quicker than an average human eye could follow, but Akela Smoked His Water Pipe. was a wolf; and even a dog, who is very far removed from the wild wolf, his ances- tor, can be waked out of deep’ sleep by cart wheel touching his flank, and can spring away unharmed before that wheel comes on. “Another time,” Mowgli said, quietly, re- turning the knife to its sheath, “speak of the man-pack and of Mowgli in two breaths —not one.” “Phff! that is a sharp tooth,” said Akela, snuffing at the blade’s cut in the earth, “but living with the man-pack has spoiled thy eye, Little Brother. I could have killed a buck while thou wast striking. ‘ Bagheera sprang to his feet, thrust up his head as far as he could, ‘sniffed and stiffened through every curve in his body. Gray Brother followed his example quickly, keeping a little to his left to get the wind that was blowing from the right, while Akela bounded fifty yards up wind and, half crouching, stiffened, too. Mowgli look- ed on enviously. He could smell things as very few human beings could, but he had never reached the hair-trigger-like sensi- tiveness of a jungle nose; and his three months in the smoky village had put him back sadly. However, he dampened his finger, rubbed it on his nose and stood up to catch the upper scent, which, though it 1s the faintest, is the truest. “Man,” Akela growled, dropping on his haunches. “Buldeo,” said Mowgli, sitting down. “He follows our trail, and yonder is the sun- ght on his gun. Look! Tt was no more than a splash of sunlight for a fraction of a second on the brass clamps of the old Tower musket, but noth- ing in the jungle winks with that flash except when the clouds race over the sky. Then a piece of mica, cr a little pool, or even a highly polished leaf will flash like a heliograph. But that day was cloudless and still. “I knew men would follow,” said Akela, triumphantly. “Not for nothing have I led the Pack—and now?” "The four clubs, headed by Grey Brother, said nothing, but ran down hill on their bellies, melting into the thorn and under- brush as a mold melts into the e: “Where go ye, without word?’ called. “H'sh Mowgll We will roll his skull here before y" Grey Brother answered. Back and wait? Man does not eat man!” Mowgli shrieked. “Who was a wolf bet now? Who drove To NMS NOS The Old Wolf. the knife at me for thinking he might be a man?” said Akela, as the four wolves turned back suddenly and dropped to heel. “Am I to give reasons for what I choose to do?” said Mowgli furiously. “That is a man. There speaks a man, Bagheera muttered under his whisker: Even so did men talk round the king's cages at Oodeypore. We of the jungle khow that man is wisest of all. If we trusted our ears we should know that of all things he is most foolish.” Then rais- ing his voice, he added, “The Man cub is right in this. Men hunt in packs. To kill one unless we know what the others will do is bad hunting. Come let us see what this man means toward us.” “We will fot come,” Grey Brother growl- ed. “Hunt alone, Little Brother. We know our own minds. That skull would have been ready to bring by now.” Mowgli had been looking from one to the other of his friends, his chest heaving and his eyes full of tears. But now he strode forward to the wolves, and, dropping on one knee, said: “Do I not know my mind? Look at me!" They looked uneasily, and when their eyes wandered he called them back again and again, till their hair stcod up all over their bodies and they trembled in every limb, while Mowgli stared and stared. “Now,” said he, “of us five, which is der? “Thou art leader, Little Brothe said Grey Brother, and he licked Mowgli’s foot. “Follow, then,” said Mowgli, and the four followed at his heels with their tails between their legs. “This comes of Mving with the Man- pack,” said Bagheera, slipping down after them. ‘There is more in the Jungle now than Jungle Law, Baloo. ‘The old bear said nothing, but he thought many things. Mowgli cut across notselessly through the jungle, at right angles to Buldeo's:path, till, parting the undergrowth, he saw the cold man, his musket on his shoulder, run- ning up the trail of overnight at a dog- trot. You will remember that Mowgli had left the village with the heavy welght of Shere Khan's hide on his shoulders, while Akela and Grey Brother trotted behind, so that the trail was very clearly marked. Pres- ently Buldeo came to where Akela, as you know, had gone back and mixed it all up. Then he sat down and coughed ani grunt- ed and made little casts round and about into the c= to pick it up again, and all the time he could have thrown a stone over those who were watching him. No one can be so silent as a wolf when he does not care to be heard, and Mowgli, though the wolves thought he moved very clumsily, could come and go like a shadow. They ringed the old man as a school of porpoises ring a steamer going at full speed, and as they ringed him they talked unconcernedly, for their speech began below thé lowest end of the scale that untrained human be- ings can hear. The other end is bounded by the high squeak of Mang, the bat, which very many people cannot hear at all. From that note all the bird and bat and insect talk takes on. “This is better than any kill,” said Grey Brother as the old man stooped and peered and puffed. “He looks like a lost pig in the jungles by the river. What does he say?” Buldeo was muttering savagel; Mowgli translated. “He says that packs of wolves most have danced round me. He says that he never saw such a trail in his life. He says he is tired. “He will be rested before he picks it up again,” said Bagheera coolly, as he slipped round a tree trunk, in the game of blind man’s buff that they were playing. “Now what does the lean thing do?” “Eat or blow smoke out of his mouth. Men always play with their mouths,” said Mowgli; and the silent trailers saw the old man fill and light and puff at a waterpipe, and they took good note of the smell of the tobacco, so as to be sure of Buldeo in the darkest night, if things fell out that way. Then a little knot of charcoal burners came down the path, and naturally halted to speak to Buldeo, whose fame as a hunter reached for at least twenty miles round. Then they all sat down and smoked, and Bagheera and the others came up and watched while Buldeo began to tell the story of Mowgli, the devil-child, from one end to another with additions. How he himself had really killed Shere Khan; and how Mowgli had turned himself into a wolf and fought with him all the afternoon, and changed into a boy egain and bewitched Buldeo’s rifle, so that the bullet turned the corner when he poirted it at Mowgli and killed one of Buldeo's own buffaloes; and how the village, knowing him to be the bravest hunter in Seeonee, had sent him out to kill this devil child. But meantime the village had got hold of Messua and her husband, who were undoubtedly the father and mother of this devil child. Messua he knew was a sorceress. Had known it for years, but had not cared to make bad blood in the village by talking about it, and had barricaded them in their own hut, and presently would torture them to make them confess they were witch and wizzard, and then they weuld be beaten to death. “When?” said the charcoal burners, be- cause they would very much like to be present at the ceremony. Buldeo said that nothing would be done till he returned, because the village wished him to kill the Jungle boy first. After that they would dispose of Messua and her hus- band, and divide their lands and buffaloes among the village. Messua’s husband had some remarkably fine buffaloes too. It was an excellent thing to clear out wizzards, Buldec thought; and people who entertain- ed wolf children out of the jungle were clearly the worst kind of witches. “But,” said the charcoal byrners, “what would happen if the English heard of it?” The English, they had heard, were a per- fectly mad people, who would not let honest farmers kill witches in peace. Why, said Buldeo, the head man of the village would report that Messua and her husband had died of snake bite. That was all arranged, and the only thing now was to kill the wolf child. They did not happen to have seen anything of such a creature? The charcoal burners looked round eau- tiously and thanked their stars they had not; but they had no doubt that so brave a man as Buldeo would find him if any one could. The sun was getting rather low, and they had an idea that they would push on to Buldeo’s village and see that wicked witch. Buldeo said, though it was his duty to kill the devil child, ine could not let a party of unarmed men go through the jun- gle, which might produce the wolf demon at any minute, without his escort. He therefore would acocmpany them, and if the sorcerer’s child appeared—well, he would show them how the best hunter in Seeonee dealt with such things. The Brah- min, he said, had given him a charm against the creature that made everything perfectly safe. “What says he? What says he? What a) he?” the wolves repeated every few minutes; and Moweli translated until he came to the witch part of the story, which was a little bit beyond him, and then he said that the man and woman who had been so kind to him were trapped. “Do men trap men?” said Bagheera. “So he says. I cannot understand the talk. They are all mad together. What have Messua and the man to do with me that they should be put in a trap, and what is all this talk about the Red Flower? I must look to this. Whatever they would do to Messua they will not do till Buldeo returns * * *© And so—” Mowgli thought hard with his fingers playing round the haft of the skinning knife, while Buldeo and the charcoal burners went off very valiantly in single file. “I am going hot-foot back to the man- pack,” he said at last. “And those?” said Grey Brother, looking hungrily after the brown backs, charcoal- burners. “Sing them home,” said Mowgli, with a grin; “1 do not wish them to be at the vil- lage gate till 1t is dark. Can you hold them?” Grey Brother bared his white teeth in contempt. “We can head them round and round in circles like tethered goats—if I know men.” “That 1 do not need. Sing to them a little less they be lonely on the road, and, Grey Brother, the song need not be the sweetest. Go with them, Bagheera, and help make that song. When the night is well down meet me by the village. Grey Brother knows the place.” “It is no light hunting to work for man- cub. When shall 1 sleep?” said Bagheera yawning, though his eyes showed he was delighted with the amusement. Me to sing to naked men. But let us see.” He lowered his head so that the sound would travel well, and cried a long, long “good hunting"—a midnight call in the afternoon which was quite awful enough to begin with. Mowgll heard it rumble and rise and fall and die off in a creepy sort of whine behind him, and laughed to himself as he ran through the jungle. He could see the charcoal-burners huddied In a knot, with old Buldeo's gunbarrel waving lke a banana leaf to every point of the compass at once. ‘Then Grey Brother gave the Ya-la-hi, Yalaha! call for the Buck- driving, when the pack drives the Nilghai, the big Blue Cow, before them, and it seemed to come from the very ends of the earth, nearer and nearer and nearer, till it ended in a shriek snapped off short. The other three answered till even Mowgli could have vowed that the full pack was in full cry, and when they all broke into the magnificent morning song in the jun- gle with every turn and flourish and grace note that a deep-mouthed wolf of the pack knows. This is a rough rendering of the song, and you must imagine what it sounds like when it breaks the afiernoon hush of the jungle: One moment past our bodies cast No shadow on the plain; Now clear and black they stride our track And we run home again. in morning hush, each rock and bush Stands hard and high and raw; Then give the call: “Good rest to all ‘That keep the Jungle La’ Ho! Get to lair, the sun's aflare Behind the breathing grass; And creaking through the young bamboo The warning whispers pass. By day, made strange the woods we range With blinking eyes we scan; While down the skies the wild’ duck cries: “ne day—the day to man!” The dew 1s dried that drenched our hide, Or washed about our way, And where we drank the puddled bank Is crisping into clay. The traitor dark gives up each mark Of stretched or hooded claw, Then hear the call: “Good rest to all That keep the Jungle Law.” But no translation can give the effect of it, or the yelping scorn the four threw into every word of it as they heard the trees crash when the men hastily climbed up into the brenches, and Buldeo began repeat- ing incantations and charms. Then they lay down and slept, for, like all who live by their own exertions, they were of a methodical cast of mind; and no one can work well without sleep. Meantime, Mowgli was putting the miles behind him at the rate of nine an hour, swinging on, delighted to find himself so fit after all those cramped months amon; men. ‘The one idea in his head was to ge Messua and her husband out of the trap, whatever it was, for he had a natural mis- trust of traps. Later on, he promised him- self, he would begin to pay his debts to the Village at large. It was twilight when he saw the well-remembered grazing grounds and the dhak-tree where Grey Brother had waited for him on the morn. ing that he killed Shere Khan. Angry as he was at the whole breed and community of man, something Jumped up tn his throat and made him catch his breath when he looked at the village roofs. He noticed that every one had come in from,the fields unusually early, and that inste: ting to their evening cooking they gather- ed in a crowd under the village tree and chattered and shouted. (To be continued.) Tt 1 nm THE GREATEST MODERN PHYSICIAN. hom Thousands of Men and Women and Children Every- _ where Owe Their Life and Happiness Today. His Reputation Has Made Dartmouth College Famous in Every Town and Village in the Country---Prof. Edward E. Phelps, MD, LL. D, Who First Gave to His Profession Paine’s Celery Compound, the Wonderful Remedy That Makes People Well. “Excepting its handful of magnificent statesmen and its military heroes,” ays the most recent writer upon America, “the people owe more to Dartmouth’s physician-teacher than to any one man. “In every walk of life, among the highest office- holders at Washington, in the homes of the best people in the large cfties, among the every-day folks of the country, families in comfortable cir- cumstances, families that ‘live from hand to mouth’ ard could not, if they wished, afford the services of any but an ordinary physician—everywhere I have met people to whom Paine’s Celery Compound has been a blessing.” ‘The story of the Mfework of this giant among men has often been told, and ts familiar to most readers, The likeness above is probably the best portrait of him yet prirted. It was the world-famed discovery of Prof. Phelps of an infallibls cure for those fearful ills that re- sult from an impaired nervous system and impure blood which has endeared the great doctor to the world and made bis lfe an era in the practice uf medicine. Prof. Phelps was born in Connecticut, and grad- uated from the military school at Norwich, Vt. oa Wy XN . PROF. EDWARD E. PHELPS, M. D., LL. D. He studied medicine with Prof. Nathan Smith of New Haven, Oonn., and graduated in medicine at Yale. His unusual talent soon brought him reputation and prominence among his profesisonal brethren. First he was elected to the professorship of anat- omy and surgery in the Vermont University. Next he was appointed lecturer on materia medica and medical botany in Dartmouth College. ‘The next year he was chosen professor of the chair then vacated by Prof. Robby, and occupied the chair, the most tmportant one in the country, at the time when he first formulated his most remarkable pre- scription. In view of the overwhelming testimony to the value of Paine's Celery Compound that has recently appeared from men of national reputation, the picture of Prof. Phelps is particularly interesting. New York's state treasurer, Hon. Addison B. Colvin; Ex-Minister to Austria Jobn M. Francis, Miss Jenness Miller, President Cook of thy National Teachers’ Asso- elation, ‘ Hen. David P. Toomey, the publisher of Dono- hoe’s Magazine; Gen, John. A. Halderman of New York city, Hon. John G. Carlisle's private secretary, Tempest; | everything else has failed. the poet author, Albert H. Hardy; the mayor of Montreal, brave Ida Lewis and a host more of prominent men and women are aniong the thou- sands of grateful people who have recently sent to the proprietors of this wonderful remedy their ex- pressions of {ts unequaled value—men and women who can well afford and do command the highest medical advice in the country. Ani then also from “the plain people” there come thousands of honest, straightforward, heartfelt let- ters, telling how Paine’s Celery Compound has made them well Their testimony simply goes to show what New England's vigorous eseayist bas so aptly said— that Paine’s Celery Compound is not a patent med- feine; {t 1s not a sarenparilla; it is not a mere tunic; it is not an ordinary nervine—tt is as far be- yond them all as the diamond is superior to cheap glass. It makes people well. It is the one true specific recognized and prescribed today by emtnent practi- tioners for diseases arising from a debilitated perv- ous system. Prof. Phelps gave to his profesison a positive cure for sleeplessness, wasting strength, dyspepsia, billousness, liver complaint, neuralgia, rheumatism, all nervous diseases and kidney troubles. For all such complaints Paine’s Celery Compound has succeeded again and again where NOONE == Wy === It ts as harmless as it is good, and it was the untversal advice of the medical profession that the compound be placed where the geveral public could secure it, and thousands of people have every year Proven the wisdom of this good advice, Only a truly great and effective remedy could * continue, as Paine’s Celery Compound bas done, to bold its high place in the estimation of the ablest physicians and of the thousands of busy men and women whose only means of judging 1s from the actual reeults in their own homes or among thelr friends, No remedy was ever so highly recoms mended, because none cver accomplished so much, ‘Today Paine's Celery Compound stands without an equal for feeding exhausted nerves and building up the strength of the body. It cures radically aud permanently. ‘The nervous prostration and general debility from which thousands of women suffer so long that it finally gets to be a second nature with them—all this suffering and despondency can be very soon removed by properly feeding the nerves and replacing the unbealthy blood by a fresher,more highly vitalized fluid. A healthy increase in appe- tite and a correspoading gain in weight and good spirits follow the use of Paine’s Celery Compound, Paine’s Celery Compound is the most remarkable medical achievement of this last half of the nine- teenth century. MUSHROOMS DO WONDERS, A Great Year for Agarics All Over the Country. “This has been the greatest year for mushrooms that I have ever known,” said Dr. Thomas Taylor of the Department of Agriculture to a Star writer. “Several va- rieties have made thelr appearance spon- taneously in astonishing numbers in many parts of the United States. People have wirtten to me from Rhode Island, Missouri, Iowa, Indiana and other states, saying that they have been finding the agarics, where none were ever known to grow before. Here in Washington it has been the same way. During this autumn citizens on Capitol Hill have been collecting cartloads of meadow mushrooms and ‘maned’ mush- rooms near the ice house. The same species have been gathered in immense numbers on the monument lot. The ‘maned’ mush- rooms—so called because they have a sort of mane like a horse—have been offered for sale for the first time at the Center mar- ket, bringing 25 cents a pound. “The ‘man mushroom has been com- paratively little kriown hitherto hereabout. It is highly feemted in Europe, especially for catsups, for which purpose it is large- ly used in England. One is apt to find It in the neighborhood of stables. A new va- riety, which has been named the ‘subru- fescens,’ has’ appeared in many green- houses,growing spohtaneously in such great quantities as to Crowd out the flowering ants and give great annoyance to nurse- fymen. In numbefiess locaiities the mead- ow mushroom, the puff-ball and the ‘white agaric’ have appeared in great profusion. “The white agaric is plentiful in the neighborhood of Washington. Unfortunate- ly, people are shy'of {t through ignorance. It’ is sometimes mistaken for the deadly ‘amanita,’ but unlike the latter it never grows in woods or on the borders of woods. You can tell the poisonous amanita every time by the cup at the bottom of the stem. The plant on first Coming out of the ground looks like an egg. It 1s a vegetable egg. ‘The egg splits up, and the mushroom grows out of it. What is left of the egg forms the cup. ‘The worst thing about the ama- nita 1s that the eating of it produces no symptoms until several hgirs have passed by, and then it 1s too late to administer antidotes sucessfully. That ts what uo pened to a very intelligent Chinaman in Washington the other day. He partook of the ‘amanita verna,’ which is one of the two most poisonous mushrooms known. The other is the ‘amanita tree “There is an odd-looking kind of mush- room that grows in Maryland, and ts not eaten, though edible, and, indeed, very delicious. It ought to be cultivated. It has green spots on the top, and that is enough to make most people shy of it. Neverthe- less, it is highly esteemed in Europe. The peasants in the neighborhood of Milan are in the habit of toasting mushrooms of this variety over wood embers, eating them af- terward with a little salt.” a FASHION HINTS. If you canot afford a handsome fur muff, have your street hat made of velvet, or trimmed with it, and then make a big muff of velvet to match. It should be puffed on the thick wool lining, have a band of fur round the middle and a big bow of ribbon and lace, or knot of flowers, and be lined with bright satin. Muffs are considerably larger this season than last. The long feather boas are n> longer worn, so if you have a long one, cut it in pieces that will just fit around your neck, and put ribbons on it ro tle, leaving long ends, You can make the heart of a friend glad by making her a present of one of the other pieces. The smartest gowns are loaded down with jet, gold and silver, cut steel, em- broidery and spangles, a pcssible result of the revival of empire literature and his- tory. You are quite behind the times if you have not a “Napoleon” room—it is no longer “empire’—and you must have an empire gown or two. It ‘s all very theatri- cal, and an uninterested onlooker is apt to think that the circus ring and baliet are being robbed of a great deai of their tinsel and glitter, but it all belongs to the age. And now, just before the encroaching col- lar band with its wart-like excresences saws some fair maiden’s ears off, comes the grateful information that it has got to go. A narrower, plein, or wrinkled, collar is now worn with a wide-reaching bow in the back. Black hats are extremely fashionable, those of velvet predomirating, and they are smothered under feathers. Gowns get pro- portionately brighter. It is questionable whether it is the best of taste to appear on the street in scarlet toggery. and women of refined tastes don’t very often do it. The only part of the strictly tailor-made gown left intact is the skirt. It is as plain as can be with a Jot of silk dust ruffles in side, but the bodice is trimmed to death. —_-—>- Pretty Near Daylight. From Puck. The strong man sobbed. “Though you spurn me,” he faltered, “I am not disheart- ened. "Tis darRest just before the dawn.’ She flung open the shutters and gazed forth. “I believe you are right,” she mur- mured. “I never noticed particularly be- fore." Even then he seemed not to re- alize that the night bad worn on apace. THE CAMERA’S POPULARITY. More Are Now in Use by the Amateur Than Ever Before. From the Ciacinnati Commercial Gazette. All over the evuntry men and women can be seen nowadays carrying cameras. It was thought at first, when the fad first vame in, that it would be short-lived—that its devotees would grow tired of it, and that it would prove too expensive. This has not proved to be the correct view. Once an amateur photographer, alw: one, 1s about the way it is. The amateur prides himself on his work—both for his skill of taking and developing plates. “What is photography?” is a question that was broached at a recent meeting of one of the London societies; and, curiously enough, the answer was not forthcoming. The question was the outcome of another question as to what was and what was not legitimate in photography. And this may, indeed, be said to be the question of the day. Among the higher of the photo- graphic fraternity it is maintatned on the one hand that photography should be photography pure and simple, nothing be- ing admitted that is not the direct outcome of the action of light, except the touching out of accidental light and the lighting of too deep a shadow. On the other hand, absolute freedom is claimed for the pho- tographer to do anything or everything, either to the negative or print, or both, that will, in his judgment, increase the artistic value of his picture, ‘Photographic faking” is the term that has been applied to the various methods that are employed for the artistic improve- ment of the pictures by those who think to laugh thein out of court. The so-called fakes are probably as numerous as are art photographers, each devising for him- self some means of overcoming faults, im- ested the lighting, altering the tonality, ete. ———+ee_______ The Art of Conversation. From Le Messager de Valence. Lady—“Have you heard of the catas- trophe? Poor Durand is dead.” Gerft—“What did he die of?” “He was drowned while bathing.” ‘Really, now I come to think of it, the poor man but well of late. as been looking anything eee ee ee What He Thought About It. From Life. Wife—"There comes that tramp I gave some of my biscuits to the other da: econ CMe secs That must be his ghost.” at = CAT ELECTRICITY. Those Who Rely on It for Curative Purposes Can Get It in Other Ways. The London Lancet says, apropos of the recent cat show: “The electrical effect produced by rub- bing a cat's back is, of course, well known; it is also well known that this ts frictional electricity, or, perhaps more correctly, the electricity of contact—that it is a surface effect produced by the rubbing, that it does not point to pre-existing electricity, stored in the body of the animal and that the person who, having concluded a mes- sage, sinks into a chair declaring that his exhaustion is consequent on the loss of ‘the living galvanism’ which he has im- parted to the patient fs a charlatan. “It is to be remembered that friction between any dissimilar substances always produces electricity, and in illustration of this the electrical effect sometimes pro- duced in a dry atmosphere when the hatr 1s combed on the body quickly divested of a flannel jersey may be instanced, or the classic experiment of rubbing @ stick of sealing wax on a rabbit's fur may be called to mind. Those who are accustomed to rely on the curative effect of stroking a cat's back may find consolation in the last- famed experiment, inasmuch as it teaches them that when their ‘feline favorite’ is no moro health and strength may still be secured by gentle friction on its skin. “Apart, however, from questions of eleo- tro-physiology it is instructive to learn that the presence of white in the color of a cat, unless the animal be whole-colored, is a sign of weakness.” . Written for The Bening Star. With the Winds. Roam the vast of morning with the winds, "Neath the silent paling of the stars, » Listen to the voices of the dawn ‘While the day ts waiting at the bars, Roam the sweep of summer with the winds, Roam and seek the knowledge of a day. Fruit and harvest beckon from the fields, Love and laughter linger by the way. Roam the dusk of evening with the winds, Cast the maze of dreamlug from the sight, When the day is minted into gold, Buried in the ashes of the night. Listen to the teaching of the winds, Secrets in the sighing of the trees, Flying leaves know more of life than we, Night has come, and darkness and unease, —W. H. CHANDLER, IF THE HAIR IS FALLING OUT OR TURNING ray, juiring &@ stimulant with nourishing and SCicring food, “Hall's Vegetable Sicilian Halt Rew newer is Just the specific.