Evening Star Newspaper, December 22, 1894, Page 21

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1894—-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES, THE REVEILLON. CHRISTMAS IN. PARI At Home, in the Restaurants and in the Churches. ——— CHILDREN DO NOT HANG UP STOCKINGS The Mistletoe is Quite the Thing and So English. A QUAINT PANTOMIME Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. PARIS, December 10, 1804. ISTLETOE IS THE latest thing in Parts, both as a fashion and a fact. Already clubmen wear it in their buttonholes and ladies pin it in their corsages. That is what it is to be quite English, in the French conception. Au gui! “Gui” is the Breton word for mis- tletoe. “It has be- come the most pet- ted guest of Pari: exclaims the fashion- able Gaulois’ ““Tout-Paris,” the darling little branch, forever green, with its pretty, white berries, Iris-hued, like pearls, enam- eling with their milky gaze all the un- changing green that wraps them round. It i8 not the pale green of the northern seas, with deep sea eyes, but the unalter- able, holy green of the supreme “speranza” —hope in Italian—which shows that French- men like to use a foreign language when they know a word or two of it You must not say “gui,” but “mistletoe”— which is a hard word for French tongues to get around. Last evening, about hailf- past midnight, I was sitting in the Cafe Montferino, just beside the opera. We had usurped a cerner table in that section if J} 2. ‘adhere AE: COV oF i= En Famille. nightly patronized—as if they owned it— by a group of theatrical managers, dan- cers of the opera, actresses and singers. ‘They talk so much that they forget to drink their drinks, i. e., their one drink each. The dancers take hot milk; two theatrical di- rectors take “balloons” of beer; the third takes orange-flower water; the singer takes curacoa, and both the actresses take cog- nao. An amiable young prince, who culti- vates their company for the improvement of his mind, drinks one sinall glass of En- gilsh whisky and water; for he is very English. Prettier in France. They were talking about migtletoe and its pronunciation. “Miss-luh-toe-ay,” said the fat man; and it Is a serious thing to contradict him. He is excitable. That is the reason he takes orange-flower. “‘Miss- luh-toe-uh!” said the young prince firmly, looking at him with calm, steadfast eyes. “I am of Brittany,” said the fair singer, nd ‘gui’ will do for me. There is a song we used to sing: O filles et gars de Bretagne, Voict le jour, Dvaller cuelllir par la campagne Le gui d'amour!” It led to a deal of informing conversa- tion, which might have been supplemented in one particular, however, by any Ameri- can or Englishman familiar with the chan- nel coast at Christmas time. Without doubt the gathering of the mis- . its veneration k-bringer and prerogatives are part and par- Holy Water. cel of the Breton peasant life. But Paris, until winter before last, knew practically z of it. The very in r hering mistletoe in Erittany and even iy is ninety-ni parts for Old England and only, even now, a trifle for ay Paris. If you were at this moment, Sav, at Saint Malo, you would see the port hat city covered with moun- It is brought in by cart Two, three or four steam- land in a gle day. easons is that England has not ‘mi oe of her own. The other t that the French mistletoe— it must be admitted, for the most apple and poplar trees—is much putiful. The Parisian Version. It is the difference between the French and slish. The English have the cus- tom, and they buy French mistletoe. Frenchmen have mistletce, and they adopt an English fashion. ‘The Breton peasantry has been more faithful to the sacred plant of their old stors, “© filles et gars de Bretagn the little singer of the Cafe Montferino knew about it, being of the faithful soil herself— “Voici le jour, D’aller cueiller par la campagne.” “What is that you are singing to us there?” the fat man of the orange-flower water began grumbling humorously. He had not heard, being occupied in convine- ing the actress that she knew nothing about her. business. “Lé gui d'amour!” completed the little singer, making large eyes at him mockingly. ‘Then she ex- plained: “The ‘gui’ is valuable for three things. It is a talisman against the spells of witches. It brings good luck. And it af- fords young girls an opportunity to be well kissed and yet without the slightest impropriety. “Garcon!” exclaimed the prince, “go out and fetch a branch of miss-lub-toe-uh!” “There are no young girls here.” She She Does Not Hang Them Up. said it with a mixture of vivacity and cynicism, spite and sadness. “A few days before Christmas time and until after New Year the young girls and boys—especially those who already dream | of the sweet and incomparable joys of | wedloc! here again the same look came into her face—“go out in companies to seek the ‘may’ of the cold season. It is in the old oak forests, the only mistletoe possessing any virtues. The Legend ts Told. “And as they wander through the depths,” the fat man interrupted, “the depths of the mysterious and poetic forests of Armorica, where once white-bearded Druids whispered—" “To their golden sickles!” put in the little Israelitish manager, one of the brightest men in Paris. “But, no; will you stop now?” inquired the nobleman. “Silence, silence!” “Attention!” “The boy who first finds the celebrated plant—" “Which is a parasite,” the fat man al- most whispers, glancing at a brilliant youth just entering, with an old woman on his arm. “4s made king of the feast. They carry him in triumph, with his branch of mistle- toe, back to his home. The mistletoe is solemnly hung up above the entrance door. “Then all the young girls pass one by one underneath it, and are kissed without ceremory by all the young fellows present. “After a feast of hot roasted chestnu' and cold cider, they burn the branch of mistletoe on a tile or fire pan, which they thrust into the blazing chimney. The ashes are distributed, to be preserved in litt}2 bags which are hung around the neck. And often the little bags are buried in the middle of wheat fields to bring good crops. It is for its power, also, that the mistletoe bough hangs outside all Breton taverns, to prevent the drinkers of ‘gwin’ Pall * Two Sous Worth of Hot Chestnuts. from seeing devils, korrigans and sorcerers on their way home at night.” I humbly suggest that this may be the true explanation of the saying that “a good wine needs no bush.” Not, as is usually explained, that the bush hung out of old English taverns was to show the presence of wine, like a barber's pole. But that it was a bush of mistletoe, hung up to guarantee hard drinkers against de- lirlum tremens. A good wine needs no bush, Le. will not injurlously affect the nerves. The cafe, the brasserie and the restaur- ant play a special part in Paris on the Christmas eve. On that night all Paris, like all Gaul, is divided into three parts— the church, the restaurant, the street. Some time on Christmas morning every- body goes to bed. But even the children do not hang their stockings up. Instead, they put their shoes beside the chimney. The child wakes up to find a big doll or a woolly lamb a-standing In them, and .the other presents ranged around. Among the novelties in toys this year—“creations,” as they call them—is an Yvette Guilbert doll who sings (by phonograph) a chanson of the celebrated divette. There is a little model of the exposition of 1900, with all its parts “demountable.” And there is also a great snake, darting by means of power within it, lifting its head and hissing at every obstacle upon its route. Dine at a Restaurant. Parisian children have three dates on which to get their presents—St. Nicholas day, the 6th of December; Christmas morn- ing, the 25th of December, and Twelfth Night, on the 6th of January. The latter is much exalted, as it will appear. So that the children’s Christmas is divided, like all Gaul again, into three parts, not to speak of New Year, when their elders have their presents, and when candy Is as plentiful as bread. ‘The little nuisances thus being liberally disposed of, they are not permitted to dominate Christmas evo, but only bear their modest, natural part, according to their age and worth. ‘The reason of the cafe, brasserie and res- taurant is fer convenience of the universal custom of the French to take a supper after midnight on the Christma’ eve. In proper families of conservative ideas this Ereveillon” 1s held as a strict family feast, at home. The idea of going to a restaurant would scandalize them. Tho smaller chil- ren sit around the board. But they keep quiet. The place of honor is for the big brother home from the army, the other brothers, home from school, the elder sts- ters, the grandparents, uncles and the rest. It 1s a time for the whole family to be re- united. Sober talk prevails, and even tears are mingled with the gayety and pious 4°F tne religious families the “revettion” follows naturally after the midnight mass of Christmas éve, when all have come home hungry and with cold feet. The old- fashioned dishes are “boudin,” or black blood sausage, and chocolate soup — two | things easily and quickly cooked. There might be also fruit, cold chicken, galantine and so on. In richer and more worldly circles the reveillon is a more sumptuous spread. Its special mark is lobster, truffled pheasant, meat jellies, champagne, hot house fruits and candies. On the Boulevard. But in the great majority of little fin de siecle Paris families it is “Baby, go to bed. When you wake up you will see what Pere Noel has brought for you.” The single servant minds the child. Papa and mamma put on their coats and sally out into the streets to taste the joys of Christmas eve in Paris. Their “reveillon” they will take at a restaurant or brasserie—without hav- ing gone to church beforehand. The boulevard is packed. Its lights make it as bright as any theaters Colors of all kinds shoot from the shop windows. All the cafes blaze. But the special feature is a line of wooden booths erected on the sidewalks, near the curbs, where novelties in strange profusion “sell themselves,” as the word goes in French, The proprietors of the booths are small shopkeepers, try- ing to make large Christmas sales of any shop-worn stuff they have on hand, folks out of work, poor widows, knowing youths, fair-fakifs—anyone who can get credit for supplies of goods to stock the booth, and who can pay the first installment of his rent beforehand. The city farms the privi- lege of putting up the booths to a stock company. To saunter yast. the booths, make bargains of things» you can never need, smile at the strange ideas of “‘use- ful gifts,’ candy, musical instruments, brooms, lamps, antiquities and every other object under heaven, not to speak of toys, which dominate the whole, is one of the peculiar pleasures of the Christmas eve in Paris. The “reveillons” passed in the restaur- ants and brasseries have no religious sig- nification or sanction. It is an excuse to guzzle and eat fine cold dishes. The church going is. very extraordinary. There is no midnight tnass at Notre Dame, but all the other churches are so crowded that you enter them with difficulty as early as 11 o'clock at night. Such churches as the Madeleine and Saint-Eustache, because of their music, are besieged. Beside the music and the solemn function a spectal Christmas feature is uncovered in the churches. This is the Creche de Noel, the ‘Bethle- hem” of Catholic churches in America. In one corner of the church, usually on the altar of a side chapel, some kind of a representation cf the Christ-child lying in the manger is attempted. The figures are usualiy in wax, and when only three per- sons are represent@—the infant, the Virgin mother ard Saint Joseph—they are some- times of considerable size. The real day for the Bethlehems is Christmas, Christ- mas morning, when all well-brought-up children make the tour of many a church and lay their oranges and apples in the holy garden, as a gift. The fruits are gath- ered up from time to, time and sent to children’s hospitals. A Christmas Pantomime. ‘The Bethlehems are of every kind and they are seen in every church in France. Unless the figures be extremely large ones there are regularly more than three, even in the humblest churches. In order of im- portance come first, among the supple- mentary figures of the creche, the three wise men, the Magi Kings, Gaspard, Mel- chior and Balthazar—your old friends of “Ben Hur.” As an actual fact their bones are now reposing in the cathedral of Co- logne, locked up in a gold trunk, whose Wind in the Latin Quarter. antique decoration of precious stones makes it worth several million francs. Then come the shepherds, never less than three, an cld one with a white beard, a young ‘one, carrying a lamb, and a third, in middle life, who is seen playing music on a rustic instrument. The richer Bethlehems multi- ply the number of the shepherds, bringing their flocks with them, who crowd the ox and the ass and rub themselves against the pillars of the holy stable. There are other shepherds, bringing eggs, pigeons, milk and so on, Other churches ‘have even photo- graphic panoramas of the actual scenes of Bethlehem, I think I never shall forget the Christ- mas pantomime, slong these lines, I once saw at Marseilles upon a Christmas eve. It was at the Palais Cristal, where the gawkish and lovable provincial ideas still linger on, These pantemimes, in partleu- lar, are legends of the middle ages, modi- fied and patched as centuries have rolled. The Savior is made to be born in Provence and the event is inextricably mixed up with the affairs of a petty mountain ham- let. There are the shepherds, the miller, his loutish gon, who is the village butt, a stolen child, the grandmother, the mayor, the police, the brigands, the angel Michael and the Holy Family Quaininess of the Antiane. In the prologue the brigands steal the youngest child of the miller and bring him up as one of themselves. Then in the piece, years after, when every one is grown up, he tries to rob his father’s house. Michael strikes the youth with blindness and.leads him to a mountain church. The miller’s family follow a star to the same church on Christmas eve. ‘Phere they come upon the new-born Savior, lying in the manger. The miller’s brigand son is re- stored repentant to his family and miracu- lously receives his sight when he confronts the child. The the chief brigand is forced to kneel and be converted. Such is the outline of this absorbing pantomime, which is replete with humor, practical jokes and folk lore. But to the simplicity and freshness with which these actors manage to preserve the artless vil- lage play of long ago it is hard to give sufficient praise. But the French sailors and, soldiers from the gallerles stare with open-mouthed appreciation; the good peo- ple of Marseilles watch placidly the un- folding of the plot they know so well, and the actors on the stage preserve ‘with relish, which their pay alone could not afford them, each loutish trick and each | simplicity that custem has bestowed upon the play. ‘The curtaim goes down with the clownish son of the miller offering packages of candy to the infant Savior— candy that {s supposed to have been bought along the Marseilles Cannabiere. The wicked son embraces his mother and sister, Tha grandmether quarrels with her aged husband in a corner of the stable. And the hardened master brigand welters in his tears. I may have spoken of this pantomime before, this Marseilles pantomime of Christmas eve. And doubtless I shall men- tion it again. It is my pleasantest re- membrance of the Christmas eve France. STERLING HEILIG. pest LEE Wall Strect Phrases. From Life. “Par flat.” e —— <== WHEN THE HAIR BEGINS TO FALL OUT OR turn gray the scalp needs doctcring, and we know of po better specific than Hall's Veget Sicilian Hair Renewer. THESECRET ARCHIVES Men and Women Who Supplied War Informati¢h for Money. THE ACCOUNTS? WERE NOT AUDIEBD Large Sums Paid to Those Classed as Milftaty Experts. A CHAPTER OF WAR HISTORY ly for The Evening Star. N A LARGE FIRE- proof safe in the War Department there is a jealously guarded collection of accounts and youch- ers which have not been, and probably never will be, trans- mitted to the proper accounting officer of the treasury for set- tlement, although the law requires that “all accounts whatever in which the Urited States are concerned, either as debtors or creditors, shall be set- tled and adjusted in the Department of the Treasury.” The accounts in question show payments made by prominent officers of the army for secret services during the last two years of the war, and the subsequent reconstruction period. In the earlier part of the war the services of spies and other secret agents employed by the military authorities were paid for either from the appropriation for incidental expenses of the quartermuster’s depart- ment, or from the appropriation for con- tingencies of the army, the former being under the imm-diate control of the quarter- master general, and the latter under the sole control of the Secretary of War. But as the war progressed the demands grow- ing out cf the employment of spies, ete., became so great as to call for a special ap- propriation, which was designated the se- cret service fund. Unlike other appropria- tions, this fund was expended at the dis- cretion of the officers to whom it was ad- vanced, without regard to the rules and regulations governing the disbursement of public moneys in general. Ten years after the close of the war it was found that many officers of rank, among whom were Sheridan, Thomas, Can- by, Schenck and other well-known gencrals, were constructively defaulters, inasmuch as they had received large advances from the secret service fund, but had not ren- dered any accounts to the treasury. The law, as it then stood, directed that persons receiving public moneys which they were not authorized to retain as salary should render monthly accounts, and that such ac- counts with vouchers necessary to the cor- rect and prompt settlement thereof, after being examined in jhe bureau to which they pertained, should be passed to the proper accounting otlicer of the treasury for adjustment. '? * As a matter offadt, it was known that most of the officers above referred to had forwarded their, seqret service accounts Written Exclush | to the War Department, where they were held by order of the s confidential record’ X00 important to be treated as mere accounts. It was also known that they, hed not been properly examined. The second auditor (the Jate E. B. French), to wom these accounts “should have been sent, was fully aware of their peculiar nature, and wasgnot anxious to have in his custody a maM® of documents containing explosive. material, which, in the hands of careless or leaky clerks, might shatter the reputations of sundry people in the southern states,ay at least v: ry seriously compromise them, At the same time he desired that the accounts should be formal- ly balanced and closed on the books of his office, not only as a matter of business, but also as an act of justice to the officers concerned, who were placed in the anoma- lous position of being in default to the treasury for public moneys which they had duly accounted for to the War Department. The auditor, therfore, with the concur- rence of the second controller, informed the Secretary of War that the rendition to the treaspry of secret service accounts and vouchers would not be insisted upon, but that all such accounts would be set- tled on the certificate of said Secretary that the funds had been satisfactorily accounted for. This proposition met with the approval of the Secretary of War, but it was several years before the necessary certificates were forthcoming, only one or two trusted employes being permitted to handle the papers, Secrets Well Kept. An examination of the accounts showed that in some instances the services paid for were of a nature so secret that it was not deemed prudent to give any clue to the persons who performed them, and in such cases the vouchers merely disclose the fact that on certain dates so many dollars, usually good, round sums, were disbursed for secret services. But in the great ma- jority of cases there are formal receipts, and that is just what makes the accounts interesting as secret records, not only of the war of the rebellion, but also of the period when the seceding states were in process of reconstruction; for large sums were paid out for secret services long after the surrender at Appomattox. Of course, many of the persons employed were ordi- nary scouts, spies and informers, the pub- lication of whose names would be of small consequence to themselves and of no in- terest to the public. But there were extraordinary spies and secret -agents, who, if their names were published, even at this late day, with a statement of how much they were paid and what {t was paid for, would find them- selves unpleasantly situated. There was one instance in which the role of Benedict Arnold was sucessfully played by a “rebel brigadier,” who sent his wife under cover of darkness to the headquarters of one of our armies, with a proposal that for $1,000 he would, at a specified time, so dispose his force that it could be captured without trouble. The offer was accepted, and at the proper time our troops marched to the appointed place and neatly “gobbled” the brigadier’s entire command. These details, it is perhaps needless to say, do yot ap- pear in the secret service accounts, but they were given to me by the officer who paid the money and saw the bargain con- summated. In addition to s¢outs and spies regularly employed gt fixed rates of compensation there was a large contingent of volunteer spies, who found their way to our head- quarters at all times between tattoo and reveille with intelligence of more or less importance, and who were rewarded ac- cording to the nature, and estimated trust- werthiness of their disclosures. A staff of- ficer, who disbursed the secret service fund for his chief, told me some years ago that all sorts of quegr-lopking customers, in- cluding the “intelligent contraband” of that period, used to visit his tent after dark with orders’ that ran something like this: “Capt. Stars—Pay the bearer $50 for secret services. J; Stripes, M. G. Comdg.” If the bearer, as sombtimes happened, was too shy tO give his name no receipt was taken—the general's: order being good enough for the captain, especially as the former was officially responsible for the money. The same officer also told me that the most active and reliable spy he ever encountered was a woman, who, for a long time, plied her risky, occupation success- fully. But lke some smen similarly engag- ed, she ventured once too often, and learned to her cost that martial law, which decrees that “the spy is punishable with death by hanging by the neck,” is no respecter of sex. Early one morning when our troops were making an important movement in consequence of intelligence brought in by the female spy the previous night, they found her body dangling from the bough of a tree. Story of a “Military Expert.” One of the most noteworthy cases con- nected with army secret service is that of a foreigner, who, it is sald, was educated in an, imperial military institution in his nativé country, and took part in the Cri- mean war. Having examined all the docu- ments in this case, I happen to be familiar with the facts, the most important of which are as follows: ‘The person referred to was employed in 1861 by General Fremont, then command- ing the Department of the West, to col- retary of War as ‘its second century. lect information as to the strength, po- sition, resources, movements and inten- tions of the enemy, and for his services was to receive the “largest remuneration” paid by the United States under like cir- cumstances. According to his own state- ment he was engaged as a “military ex- pert,” though a less imposing title would seem more appropriate. Equipping himself with a stock of quinine, he entered the ene- my’s territory as a contraband purveyor of that important drug, and made such good use of his opportunities that he was enable to apprise Gen. Grant of the con- templated occupation of Paducah, Ky., by the enemy’s forces. Gen. Grant, however, stole a march on the! and took posses- sion of the town to the great surprise and consternation of the inhabitants, who had made preparations to welcome a very dif- fem@nt ariny. ‘There was a large supply of valuable stores in Paducah, which, of course, fell into our hands, and the place itself was then considered an important one in a military sense. No doubt whatever can exist that the “military expert,” who seems to have had the true military in- stinct, is entitled to whatever credit at- taches to the capture of Paducah. An affi- davit otf Gen. Fremont and letters from Gen. Grant and Commodore Foote settle that question beyond peradventure. Gen. Grant says that it was solely on informa- tion furnished by the expert that he took possession of Paducah, and Commodore Foote credits him with having saved the United States “thousands of lives and mil- lions of dollars.” ‘The Usual Fate. Not long after rendering th's valuable service, end while following his profession in the enemy's country, he was recognized by a confederate officer, was knocked on the head, sh. in the leg and narrowly escaped with his life. Before he could obtain a settleme:t with Gen, Fremont, that officer was releved from the com- mand of the Western Denartment and his successor referred the expert and his claim to Washington. The claim, which amount- ed to $3,600 tor special jes and ex- penses from July 31 to Uctober 31, 1861, was submiitted to President Li in, who indorsed upon it a request th the ac- counting otticers would investigate and pay it, if found just and equitable. The Secretary of War (Gen. Camecun) took the papers, reduced the amount to $2,000 and that sum was pal@ by the dis- bursing clerk of the War Department, the claimant giving a receipt in full. After settling with his attorney, who re- tained a liberal share of the $2,000 for his special services, the expert went to Europe to recuperate from his wounds and ll usage, and nothing was heard of him for twenty-five years. Then he returned to Washington, was recognized and befriend- ed by Gen. Fremont, Who at that time (i886) resided here, a bill granting him $76,600 for the capture of Paducah was in- troduced in the Senate, and he presented himself to the accounting officers, with a request that they would adjust his c’aim in accordance with the indorsement of President Lincoln. The reply was, in ef- fect: “The claim was settled =nd paid by the War Department, as appears by your receipt in full. Moreover, you have taken your case to Congress. We have no juris- diction.” After two years’ delay the p pers were referred to the court of claims, but the expert fared no better with the legal authorities than with the treasury officials, and so far he has obtained no satisfaction from the law makers. What It Cost. The total expenditure on account of army secret service was about $2,000,000, one- half of which was paid from the special secret fund, and the remainder from the appropriations for incidental expenses of the quartermaster’s department and con- tingencies of the army, and from the pro-*| ceeds of confiscations, military contribu- tions, ete. The mention of these funds re- minds me of an anecdote told by the late Secretary Belknap during a conversation about secret service accounts. He said that when he was a brigadier general of volunteers he received a large amount ($160,000, I think,) of what were known as “{rregular funds; that is, money not ap- propriated by Congress and not accounted for to the treasury. Talking with a broth- er officer about these moneys he prided himself upon having strictly accounted to his military superiors for every cent that had come into his hands. Whereupon the brother officer politely remarked: “You must be a fool.” Nee See el WHY THE GIRLS LAUGHED. At a Wedding the Bridegroom Sets His Trousers on Fire. From the New York Herald. All the girls in Hudsonville, Mich., have been trying to catch Adrian Van der Slou for a long time. Today they are all laugh- ing at him. ‘A fair maid of Jamestown, Ottawa coun- ty, won him, and they were married last night. After the blushing bride had re- ceived the congratulations of her friends she, leaning on the bridegroom’s arm, led the way to supper. The bridal cake was a beautiful thing, covered with a thick layer of soft sugar and chocolate. The cake had been too tempting for the bride's little sister. She had helped her- self to a quarter section of it, but, being unable to eat It before the wedding com- pany went into supper, had hidden it un- der the table on a chair. That was the chair on which Adrian Van der Slouis sat, and Adrian Van der Slouts wore fine laven- der trousers. He did not know that the cake lurked there. When he arose from the wedding feast ard led the way out of the room the gvests began to laugh, The bride, a woman of nerve and quick perception, hurried Adrian and his lavender trousers into another room. Then with a sponge she applied gasoline where‘it wouid do the most good and soon all evidences of the chocolate were removed. ‘Then the happy couple returned to their guests. But Adrian was ill at ease. Bash- ful at best he was damp with perspira- tion and gasoline. He felt he must do something to distract attention from him- self, So he passed around a box of fino cigars. All the men took one and lighted them. Then Adrian Van der Slouls took one, bit off the end and put the cigar between his lips. Then he took a redheaded sul- phur match and scratched it on his lav- ender trousers. There was a puff, a blaze, a yell of agony. “I'm afire!” cried Adrian, clutching his coat tails. By way of rendering the promptest as- sistance all the young women shrieked. One man seized the water pitcher, an- other ran to the well. Only the ‘bride kept her wits about her. She grabbed up a hairy mat and put out the incipient con- flagration. Adrian’s trousers are ruined and he ate his breakfast today from the mantel. Bi worst of all, the girls who tried to win him are laughing at him. ae THIRTEEN OLD NEWSPAPERS, They Have Reached or Passed the One Hundredth Milestone, The Rutland, Vt., Herald has started in It was 100 years old last Saturday. The anniversary was cele- brated by the publication of a centennial supplement and the reproduction, by pho- tographic process, of the first number of the paper, which, of course, was published December 8, 1794. According to the census made by the present editor of the Herald there are but thirteen American newspa- pers which have reached the century mark. ‘The names of these papers and the dates when they were founded are as follows: 1156—New Hampshire Gazette, Ports- mouth, N. H. 1758—Newport Mercury, Newport, R. I. 1764—Connecticut Courant, Hartford,Conn. 1771—Massachusetts Spy,Boston and Wor- cester, Mass. 1779—New Jersey Journal, Elizabeth, N.J. 1785—Augusta Chronicle, Augusta, Gi 17s6—Hampshire Gazette, Northampton, Mass. 170—Salem Gazette, Salem, Mass. 1702—Greenfield Gazette, Greenfield, Mass, 1792—New Jersey State Gazette, Trenton, NJ. 1792—The Guardian, New Brunswick,N.J. 17%3—Portsmouth Journal, Portsmouth, N. H. 1704—Rutland Herald, Rutland, Vt. ——— Use of Synonym: From Truth. Gladys—“Mamma, my teacher was talk- ing about synonyms today. What is a synonym?” Mrs. Catherwood—“A synonym, darling, is a word you can use in place of another one when you do not know how to spell the other one.” be 21 THE CAPTAIN'S CHRISTMAS STORY BY MARGARET MOORE PIGGOT. yea ey Caer en Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. ‘The Captain made up his mind to give a party. He first thought of a dinner—a din- ing it is called in that part of the world— but upon mature consideratign decided that an evening party with a dance would be better. “You can get more people in the house that way,” he reasoned, “and then, Mammy is right, it don’t take so many dishes.” @Whar yer gwine ter git ‘nough fer all dem folks ter eat?’ demanded his dictator, for the Captain, like many another south- erner, was still under the care of his “mammy,” and she ruled him and his house with a rod of iron. She had never even dreamed of leaving the old plantation. Freedom had no charms away from all her lifetime associations, and the comfort of her “chile” was far more important to her than any sentimental visions of personal independence. So she stayed at her post with her old husband—who would possibly have had some revolutionary ideas if Mammy had allowed him the luxury of a private opinion—and she cooked for her one lamb left in the old fold, nursed and cared for him though he was forty as she had done when he was four. It was the first Christmas after the war, dreary, sad and hopeless; too soon after the stunning blow of defeat for much re- action even in the healthiest nature. The terrible poverty, the desperate outlook over many fields Jeft fallow, plowed by shot and shell, and $own with the seed that will only quicken at the last day, crushed even the most buoyant souls. The Captain was “pretty blue,” he de- clared, and felt that somebody must come to the front with something to cheer up the neighborhood, and as he was a bachelor, with a big house untouched by the chances of war, he was convinced that he was the vne to do it; but Mammy’s questions about oe Was pertinent and must be an- vered. “Well, Mammy, I reckon there's a wild turkey or so in the hollow, and Uncle Jake can set all his hare traps and he can catch us @ lot of old hares’’—the Captain called them “ole hyars’—‘“and I can get some squirrels and partridges, and I don’t think we'll starve on that.” “Huh! War yer gwine ter git no cake, an’ no ice cream wer nuthin, an’ whars yer aig nag an’ apple toddy, an’ peach bran- dy, an’ yer sweet wine fer de ladies?” “Well, you know there’s that keg of ap- pie brandy Uncle Jake found under the leaves in the old ice house. It's good ten years old by this time, and that'll do for the egg-nogg, and the boys will have to do without their toddy, and’’—resolutely, “I'm going to have some fun again, if 1 don't have a fine supper. Besides everything you cook tastes so good, Mammy, the folks won't know the difterence.” “I don’t min’ cooking things, when I got things ter cook,” was Mammy’s parting shot as she left the room, obviously molli- fied, and the Captain knew his first ally was secured. It was a different matter when he spoke to his sister-in-law of his intended hospi- tality, She had been widowed by the war, and she considered the Captain's “frivol- ity,” as she called it, a heartless proceed ing, © want of proper respect for ais dead brother. “Is this a time to dance?” she as'ed. “Well, yes, Molly, I think it is. We've had time enough to weep, the Lord know and we've done plenty of it, and we're go- ing to do through. plenty more before we get And that's just the reason I took “Who'll dance with you, who will you invite’ “Everybody, you and the children to be- gin with. They’re young enough to dance, sure, and I'll get all the old folks to play- ing cards in the little parlor, and we'll be- gin early and keep it up late and forget our troubles for one night, anyway, and dance the old year out and the New Year in, as we always used to do. Tom's been dead, poor fellow, these three years, you know. | “As if I could forget Tom in three years!” but she made no further objection, and as the Captain expected, every one who was bidden was only too glad to come. It was the only party in the country side, the only break in the monotony of that dreary win- ter, and everybody seized upon the op- portunity, and everybody made merry. The host's request to “come early and stay late” was obeyed to the letter. Before 6 o'clock, a nondescript procession of vehi- cles began to file in the “big gate.” Horses were very ‘scarce, mules almost as much so; therefore, the carriage—where one sur- vived—was out of the question, if the whole family were to come, which they did in most cases, so the usual chariot was the farm wagon, drawn by the mule and horse with rope harness, or what had once been a “sure enough” harness, tied up in a mul- titude of places with a miscellaneous col- lection of strings; mamma and the children inside, upon. straw, pillows, or anything that could soften the hard wooden fico papa driving, and the whole party bent on enjoying themselves to the utmost. A few young men rode a farm horse or mule, but many of them walked, miles and miles, and danced all night afterward. The eld colonial house literally glowed with hospitality through every ruddy window, for the problem of enough light had been solved by Uncle Jake's “elbow grease” at the wood pile, and countless “chunks 0’ lightwood"” were heaped up to brighten the festivities. There were a few candles in the parlor for the card tables and in the supper room, but the long drawing room, which had not been used for years—the war closed those doors—had a roaring wood fire in the great chimney at each end, upon which, from time to time, the fat pine knots were thrown, and the bright flicker- ing flame {illuminated the large room with a rosy light, throwing deep shadows in the corners where sometimes a shadow came handy, if a man and a maid—we all know the rest. Cupid had been very busy during those four restiess years, and it was not to be expected that he would give up his old habits immediately. “Long Mose” and “Yellow Sam” were the fiddlers, and “Mammy’s” “young Jake” “knocked the tune” on the banjo with such good will as well as good time that to keep one’s feet still necessitated the loss of one of them, or a “Yankee bullet in the knee.” In the “little parlor” were the cards and the old folks, and in the halls, up the old stair, peeping through the railing on the landings, on the floor among the dancers, romped the children. From the open door a beam of rosy light fell aercss the lawn, the moon rose ma- jestically over the mountains across the river, the dry leaves of the old red oak near the house soughed in the mild breeze, the Potomac, silver here and there in the moonlight, glided on as peacefully as though its current had never been tinged by other red than the glow from the fire- light in the lockkeeper’s house under the shadow of the mountain. In the ball room “Long Mose” was calling the figures for the Virginia reel, “Honor to yer partners,” “Fust couple forrard and back.” Except for the prevalence of gray garments among the men, and an occasional empty sleeve or a crutch by the chair in the card room, who could tell there had ever been such a thing as war in the land? Mammy’s supper was as great a triumph of the Captain’s marksmanship as of her cooking, for powder and ball were too scarce to be wasted in a single unprofitable shot, and every time the music of “Mars Dick's" rifle had been heard, some bird or beast regretted being within call. There were partridges stuffed with little balls of sausage and baked,—“One 0’ old miss’ ways’—there were three wild turkeys cooked to a turn, a ham,—part of the one hog that was killed that year—there were squirrels and rabbits galore, and real cof- fee with sugar and cream. What more was needed the Captain did not know. Unless—there was no sideboard for the gentlemen, that was an impossibility; but the keg of “apple jack” had held out to the extent of an enormous bowl of egenogg for which Mammy had been saving all the eggs for a week, even letting her beloved “honey” go without his “aig braid” for the time. As the night was waning the Captain saw his sister-in-law crossing the hall, with her youngest boy fast asleep in her arms. He hastened to relieve her of the burden, As they entered the “chamber,” the Cown stairs bed room sacred to the mistress of the house, and the usual family sitting room ‘also, Molly seated herself by the fire held out her arms for the chil Captain did not hand him to her imme@Btely. He stooped to let the firelight fall on the little face lying against his breast. “How. much he looks like Tom! And yet KING RHEUMATISM. His Reign is over at Last. Medical Sctence Drives Him from His Throne —A Medicine Discovered that Rheumatism Cannot Resist—A Boon for Sufferers. (From the 8t. Louis, Mo., Chronicle.) Rheumatism has long baffled the medical profession. Medicine for external and internal use has been produced, plasters tried, electricity experimented with, hot and cold baths and @ thousand other things tried, all without avail, King Rheumatism still ruled suprethe, making the life of its subjects a perfect inferno on earth. The first real step toward conquering rheuma- tism was made by Dr. Williams, an eminent Canadian physician, who discovered that the prime cause of rheumatism could be traced to the blood, Acting upon this theory he pro- duced and compounded & prescription which he used with the greatest success for a number of gears. This prescription is now known as Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills for Pale People, and is known throughout the land as one of the most powerful of our remedial agents. The effect of using Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills for rheumatism was brought to light lately by @ Chronicle reporter who interviewed John Fere guson of 7039 South Broadway, 8t. Louis, who had beop @ sufferer with the incapacitating disease. “No man knows it all, of course,” he says, “but the man whose judgment prompts him to have a supply of Dr. Williams’ Pilis in the house knows @ heap. ° “Those pills,” he continzed, “ have proved of great benefit not only to me, but to my wife. Strange to say, we both suffered from the same ailment, although my wife's condition was much worse than mine. Neither of us could sleep at night; we had sharp shooting pains in our arms, sides and limbs, and a continual sore- ness all over the body. What we suffered from was nothing more or less than rheumatism. At times my wife had to crawl upstairs on her hands and knees, and as for me, I would at night twitch and jerk despite my utmost efforts to control myself. We suffered the torture, I think, of the damned. “I confess it was with some misgivings as to the efficacy of Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills that I bought a box, but we look back with @ great deal of pleasure to the day when the box was bought =. “Would you believe it? In three weeks the pain began to leave us, My case not being as severe as my wife's, I soon got well, but it took nearly three months before Mrs. Ferguson could say she was entirely free from rheumatic pains. Of course, I recommend Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills to all my friends.” * Mr. Ferguson is not alone in his experience. His words are indorsed by T. A. Campbell, an iron worker living on Chouteau Avenue. He - had been afflicted with rheumatism. “Any one who suffered as 1 did has my heart- felt sympathy,” he says. “ Working as I did in a place subject to sudden and severe changes of temperature, 1 was almost always suffering from @ cold, One day I was seized with chills and had to leave my work and go home to bed. “My doctor ordered me to remain in bed for at least several days, and I followed his advice. Somehow or other, I began to lose my pre- viously good appetite, a depression of spirits, lack of ambition, a tired feeling and even loss of memory followed. I couldn’t keep my feet warm, and my usual ruddy complexion had given way to a sallow hue. c “With my family to support, I couldn't afford to be idle. I struggled against my feel- ings as best I could, but the bes§, { could do, even with the doctor's help, was very little. “Hearing of Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills I deter- mined to try them. The effects were nothing short of marvelous. They made me well, and as a preventive I take them regularly. They're the best medicine I know of, and as sueéh my friends hear me speak of them.” An analysis of Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills for Pale People shows that they contain, in a condensed form, all the elements necessary to give new life and richness to the blood and restore shat- tered nerves. They are an unfailing specific for such diseases as locomotor ataxia, partial pare alysis, St Vitus’ dance, sciatica, neuralgia, rheumatism, nervous headache, the after ef fects of la grippe, palpitation of the heart, pale and sallow complexions, all forms of weakness either in male or female, and all diseases re- sulting from vitiated humors in the blood> Dr, Williams’ Pink Pills are sold by all dealers, or will be sent post paid on receipt of price, (50 cents ® pox, or 6 boxes for $2.50—they are never sold in” bulk or by the 100) by addresstug Dr, Willams’ Medicine Co,, Schenectady, N. ¥, he is like you, too, Molly—like you l\coked when Tom end I drew straws to see wti@@ of-us should speak first.” She looked up quickly. “Didn't he ever tell you? Well, you fee, I made him promise he wouldn’t when I found he was 1»* lucky one; but, = the same, I can’t rorget it; I never ave. = He bent forward over the child again, kissed the sleepy little mouth, then layi him in his mother’s arms, said quietly: “Molly, I will be a father to them all if , you will let me, and 1 Fave loved you ail your life.” 4 diss Molly, Mammy says can’t yer come thar jest a minit, please; she wants yer in the dining room jest a mintt, “Take him, Dick, won't you?” she said, as she rose, giving the child te the Cay ain, “For my own son?” “Don't urge me now; let me think. He sat with the child on his lap for a while. Then, as Molly did not return, and @ burst of laughter from the ball room re- minded him of his duties, he rose, laid the boy on the bed and went out to his guests again. They were beginning to leave. Molly was saying farewell to some of them at the door as he joined her. By the time the last one had gone the streak of gray over the mountains had broadened almost to the zenith; the Captain turned to her and said, as they watched the growing lights “Well, Molly, my party wasn’t so bad after all, was it?” | “It was a great success, and I think you were right to do ‘t, I find we need mirth sometimes, almost as much as we need prayer.” 1 “Was it a success for me? See, the New | Year is breaking on the world with the new day. Shall a new and happier day, dawn for me, too?” “Miss Molly, little Tom's awake, and he's a crying for you.” Le As she caught up the child he folded both of them in his arms. “A happy New. Year to you, my dear,” he said, abs Pecos Jt Martin Luther's Christmas Hymn, Translation by Eugene Field in Chicago Record. © heart of mine! lift up thine eyes And see who in you manger Jies! Of perfect form, of face divine— It is the Christ-child, heart of minet © dearest, holiest Christ-child, spread Within this heart of mine thy bed; Ml my breast forever be A chamber consecrate to thee! Beat high today, O heart of mine, , And tell, O lips, what joys are thines for with sour belp sual T proiong x Old Bethlebem's sweetest cradle song = - Glory to God, whom this dear Child Hath by His coming reconciled, And whose redeeming love agatm Brings peace on good-will to men! ee —___—— Woman's Wit. . From Youth's Companion. ‘ A laughable little story ts told of a wo« man on the witness stand ina French court. She was asked her age, and she answerod that she was thirty years old. “But,” said the magistrate, “did you not tell me you were thirty when you appeared before me two years ago’ oe | “I think it very likely,” she replied, smil-; ingly acknowledging her falsehood, and not; at all abashed. “1 am not one of those) women who say one thing today and ane’ other thing tomorrow.” 200 mtitled to It Anyhow, From the Chicago Tribune. on “I think I met you at the horse shows! Colonel sé fi “Beg pardon, sir, but I'm not a colonelg Um a dog raiser.” i “Ah, yes. Glad to meet you again, ken nel. Fine evening, ein’t it?" ; FOR WAKEFULNESS AND NERVOUS? NES: 4 Use Horsford’s Acid Phosphate. “_ Dr. J. F. NEELY, Washington, D. O., says: § tng! ava msed with somplete ‘pnccese, te trea Sm" meatal, excitement, ai find it # very pleasant oe