Evening Star Newspaper, December 29, 1894, Page 13

7 | | —_—_— A SPANISH WITCH Bome Singular Adventures of the King of Spain. & Wonderful Suit and How the King’s Experience With It Taught a@ Useful Lesson. Once upon a time, a long time ago, there was a king of Spain who had many ad- ventures, and this is one of them, which came about in the following manner. In the kingdom were many Moors who had came over into Spain from Africa and con- quered half of the country and set up a Moorish sultan over their half and tried to get the whole of it into their power. All this had happened in the days of the young king’s father, so that when the young king came to the throne he resolved to fight the Moors and drive them away, and to this end he raised an army and prepared for war. Now in the town of Salamanca was a wicked old witch, and when she heard the king was about to go to war she winked one eye at her black cat and the black cat winked one eye at her, and she got her staff and cloak and said to her cat, whose name was Beelzebub: “Come on, Beelzebub, let’s go to Madrid and see what we shall see.” And the black cat laughed and she laugh- ed, and they both set out. When she came to the city of Madrid it was fuli of the sound of men and horses, and the hammers of armorers making shields and swords, but the witch noticed mone of these; she went straight to the “I must speak to the kinj “Oh, you must speak to the king, must you?” said the saucy page. ‘Well, let me tell you, old lady, that the king is not over fond of witches the age of his great grand- mother. If you were @ pretty girl, then perhaps— “I must speak to the kin interrupted the witch, turning her flery red eyes on the page; and the black cat arched his back and stared hard with his green eyes, “I am more. than a hundred years old, and all my life I have been weaving cloth and studying magic, and I have learn- ed how to make silk which will turn aside the sharpest sword and blunt the keenest Isnce. It is of more use than the heaviest armor in battle, but s: strange is this magica] silk that only a -ave man can use it. To cowards it looks more transparent gauze, yet when they wear it ‘tis beavier than lead, while upon the limbs of @ brave man its weight is no more than a eobweb, while it looks as heavy as steel.” “An excellent thing to wear in battle with the Moors,” said the king. “Have you brought me a suit of it?" “Alas! majesty,” said the hypocritical old witch, “I am a poor woman. I bring you only my knowledge. To weave such stuff requires a pound of fine gold and ten pounds of silk for every yard, and where should I find all that in Salamanca?” “Here!” sald the king his seneschal, “give this woman a loom and all the ma- terials she reuires and let her weave me @ suit of this magic siik. And, hark ye, old dame, let it be ready in five days, for on the elghth I ride to fight the Moors.” So the old witch and Beezlebub had a fine Foom in the palace and the best of good living, and beside the loom they brought her two hundred pounds of raw silk and twenty pounds of fine gold. Now on the fourth day the king said to the seneschal: “Go and see how the magic silk progresses.” And when the seneschal — to the witch's door the old woman cried: “Ah, I am glad the king has sent a brave man, for so fine is this silk that a coward cannot see it at all, but you, my lord, will observe all the delicate patterns and the beautiful sheen pf the gold and the silk that shine like light itself.” Then the seneschal looked at the loom, but to his amazement he saw nothing at all. He gave a start and turned very red, and seeing this the old witch winked at her black cat, and Beezlebub winked at her. is it possibl said the seneschal to himself, “that I am a coward? I thought myself afraid of nothing and yet I cannot see this web of silk upon the loom. Well, one thing is certain, I am not brave enough to admit I cannot see it; I must pretend that I do.” And so while the old woman pointed to the patterns of the web and seemed to pass her hand over it he professed to see every- thing she described and even pretended to rub the stuff between his fingers to feel ite fineness. Put when he was gone the old witch and Beezlebub lau; aan b shed till they “It ts the most wonderful stuff I ever saw, your majesty, said the seneschal; ‘beautiful gold lights play through it like sunshine. It has the rich changeful colors of a peacock’s tall, and into the patterns is woven all the flowers of spring. It is fine and soft as a spider’s web and yet has the temper and hardness of steel.” Next day the king, being very busy, sent the commander of all the forces to the old witch to see if the sult were cut of a prop- er size, because tomorrow it must be ready to wear. The old witch had pushed the loom to one side and sat as if sewing. The brave old general saw her stick in a needle and pull through a long thread, but though he rubbed his eyes hard he could not see the clothes which she seemed to be sewing. But he did not dare say so, and when the witch scemed to hold up the clothes to show him the shape of the sleeves and the size of the buttons, he pretended to admire it very much and went to tell the king that nothing so wonderful and beautiful as his new clothes had ever been seen, while the witch pinched Beelzebub in the ribs and he ex her and they both laughed fit to i) themselv. On the sixth day the army was all ready to march and then the king sent for his new clothes, and the seneschal and com- mander of the forces fetched the old witch. “Here they are, majesty,” she said, seem- ing to spread out the suit before-him, “and when you wear them in battle with the enemies of our country don’t forget the r old witch of Salamanca!" Upon which ‘zebub had to stuff his own tail into his mou.h to keep from laughing right out. Whon she said this the young king turned pale, because he dila’t see any clothes at all, and yet the seneschal and the com- mander of the forces stood by and seemed to expect him to put them on. So he dared not make any protest, though all the while he was saying to himself as they were helping to put on the clothes he couldn’t s “Then I am a coward! Well, I am too much of a coward to admit it, and I shall at least know how to die for my country when the time comes.” And then they went out of the palace and the king mounted his horse and all the people cheered, for each one said to himself: “I can't see the king's clothes, but that is because I am not truly brave, but no one else shall see that I don't see them,” and every man said to his neighbor: “How splendid the king’s magic clothes arel, Did you ever see anything so glori- ous?” Every neighbor replying: “No, indeed, I never did!” And all the while the old witch end Beelzebub, left alone in the palece, were winking both eyes at each other and shouting with iaughter. But when the king came to the city gate there stood his sister, the Princess Inez, with all the ladies of the court, and the moment they saw the king they all hid their faces. “Oh, brother!” said the princess through the sticks of her fan: “Why do you go to war with no clothes on‘” “No clothes!” answered he, “why I am wearing the magic sult made by the Witch of Salamanca which orjy @ brave man can “Magic nonsense!" said the princess, sharply. “You haven't on anything at all. Here put my cloak around you immediately and send for a suit of armor; you sha’n't leave Madrid im this condition, I can tell you. Now,” she sald, turning ‘to the peo- ple, “tell me on your faith as Christians, can any one of you see this magic suit?” Then, of course, they all admitted the truth, and a great cry was raised that the witch should be burned for decetving the pins. but when they went to search for r she and the black cat and the silk and fine gold had all disappeared. C ‘She was right in one thing at least, we were all too owardly to tell the truth when It seemed kely to lower us in the eyes of our neigh- bors. The lesson she has taught me ts worth the price I paid.” Bo the king rode away against the Moors, Boe: after many battles drove them out of in. A German Physician Points Out Some of the Evil Results. A legislative war against that flercely be- loved and fiercely contemned article of feminine civilized array, the corset, is raging in Paris, that nest of corset facto- ries. Dr. Schweninger, Prince Bismarck’s physician, has been talking to a New York World correspondent on the subject. “Where fashion begins,” said Dr. Schwen- inger, “medicine takes a back seat. By this I do not mean to say that the physt- cian should be the handmaid of the dress- maker and make good where the other has sinned. I want it understood that I am no more opposéd to corsets than to a tight waistband to a girdle that com- Presses the waist, or in the case of men to a sash or pantaloons that are too nar- ‘All these articles of tor- irbance of the internal or- gans, enervate their functions, ruin diges- tion and diminish the capacity for exer- tion for breathing and for a clear head. Ulcer, gall stones, all sorts of kidney troubles, bloodlessness—diseases from which 80 per cent of all women of the day suffer more or less—are the legitimate results of some sort of compression of the waist and lower part of the chest decreed by fashion. “The corset or belt-wearing habit does not affect all people alike. In stout per- sons the fat often serves as a bolster; growing girls suffer most from corsets or belts, as their compression squeezes false ribs together and forces the girls to breathe in the region of the upper ribs. Look at a basket of peaches. Wherever the fruit has suffered compressions we see @ mark caused by stoppage of saps. So with the man. Compression causes stagna- tion of the gastric juices, in addition to stagnation of the blood; hence, cold hands and feet, pains in the back and headaches. “I say a woman or girl wearing corsets or a belt habitually from morning till night (some actresses wear them even in bed) cannot be healthy; a corset should be worn only for a couple of hours it special occasions. But wearing corsets habitually does not only affect the general health, but also the looks of a person. I have often been asked by women of middle age about the cause of undue fattiness of the bust, hips and stomach from which they were suffering. Some. when I told them that pressure cau.es the accumulation of fat, refused to believe me; though they needed but look at their hands to verify my as- sertion: The ringed fingers are always thicker than tuose without jewelry.” “What do you think of the new French law imposed?” “Lycurgus was che only law-giver on matters of dress that ever exhibited com- * answered Dr. Schweninger. “He made it the privilege of the women of the town to ween gaudy and ‘fashionable’ garments. A frightful example of the cor- set's deadly nature ts furnished in the his- tory of the Dachau territory, in Bavaria. The peasants of Dach: many hundred years ago, adopted a national dress, the leading feature of which was a corset, reaching almost to the chin. As a result the strong and healthy women of the dis- trict gradually lost their shape; they lost the ability to nurse their children, and as in those days hired wet nurses, sterilized milk and other surrogates were not known, the tribe died out completely. None of the Dachau peasafts of the present day re- member their grandparents. Their moth- ers were imported from other parts of Ba- varia. The national dress was abolished by order of the gcvernment. ——___-+ e+ ——_ GOING WITHOUT BREAKFAST. Connecticut People Who Eat Only ‘Two Meals a Day. From the New London Day. The very latest 1s the skip-your-break- fast-and-be-healthy idea. It has been tried by more than 100 persors in this vicinity, and as a result of their experience you could not get them to eat breakfast if you were to set before them a feast such as Lucullus was wont to enjoy or imagined he enjoyed. Charles C. Haskell of Norwich introduced this novel idea to the people of this vicinity. He got it from Dr. E. H. Dewey of Mead- ville, Pa., who has been practicing it for the last twenty years, and who finally wrote a book concerning his theory. This book fell into the hands of Mr. Haskell for pub- lication, and, being convinced that its reas- oning was sound, he has been going with- out his breakfast for some time, and others have followed his example until there are more than 100 persons in Norwich alone who save on their hotel bills when they travel. And they declare with sincerity that they never before have felt so well as since they have tried this new plan. Several of them who were suffering from trouble- some or dangerous diseases quickly re- covered after they began going without their breakfasts. There is really something more to it than going without breakfast. The whole creed, in brief, is to eat but two meals per day, omitting the breakfast; eat only when hun- gry, even if one may have to wait for hun- er for a day, a week, or longer, drinking uring all that time ail the cold water “de- sired; drink nothing while eating, and drink only cold water at any time; eat whatever the hunger calls for, which will be the food that will make the richest blood. ‘The point against breakfast is that, after @ person has been sleeping, his system does not really need food, as a rule, and the stomach has also been resting, so that it is not in a condition to receive food to advan- tage. But how the followers of this idea make the food disappear at dinner time! ———-+e+ ——__ ACCOUNTS VERIFIED IN SECRET. A Feature of Business Performed by Public Accountants After Dark. From the New York Herald. In many a business office there is trans- acted a business at night of which none of the employes are aware. It is the auditing of books, a feature of work performed by several well-known public accountants. Of-course, In the majority of such cases the partners in the concern have had some reason to suspect some of the office force of dishonest pract'ces. At times, how- ever, one partner n-ay suspect another, or some reason may arise where the firm de- sire to ascertain their standing at an un- usual time of the year, and without its being known to the bookkeeper. “It is by no means an unusual feature of my work,” said a well-known public ac- countant in speaking about the matter re- cently. Many a time when a large mer- cantile house has closed for the night and everybody has gone home my men have entered the store, taken the books from the safe and worked over them until day- break. “In such cases they never touch a pen or pencil to the books. They merely verify the figures and transcribe the entries on peper. The result of each man's work ts kept by itself, and turned over to another person in my office, who obtains the final results. Every care is taken in handling the books and replacing them in the safe to give no grounds for suspicion of what is going on. jo doubt many a bookkeeper and cash- fer in this city would be surprised to peep into his office at night and find a force of men working over the books as familiarly as he and his fellow clerks have been doing in the day time for years. The night force speedily become acquainted with the names of customers and the pages of the ledger accounts, turning to them without reference to the index, like old hands. “Sometimes, of course, the fact of our working at night over the books never becomes known to the clerks. If the ac- ccunts are found straight there {s no oc- casion to let them know they have been suspected. At other times they discover that their figures have been overhauled when confronted with the unmistakabie evidence in figures of their false entries.” o——___. He’s Not a Cannibal. From the New York Herald In Jersey City there lives a contractor of Hibernian extraction. He ts a gentle and amiable person, but deceives his new em- loyes into believing him cannibalistic by is method of expressing himeclt. In engaging his employes he arranges to either board them or pay them greater wages and let them furnisn their own food. This ie the innocently sinister way in which he states the proposition: “I pay ye $6 a week end ate ye, or Wa week and ye ate yersilf.” —_—_—+00- eee It Was Well Meant. From Puck. . “I suppose,” observed the tramp, bitterly, “you would like to have me get off the earth. But I cannot.” “Have you tried soft soap?’ asked the woman in the blue gingham dress, dispassionately. THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 29, 1894-TWENTY PAGES. dome WIDOWS IN LITERATURE Efforts Made to Portray the Many Inter- esting Phases, The Real and the Imitation Article From the Earliest Times Down te the Present. From the St. Louis Globe-Democrat. As soon as fiction began to appear the widow came also, for as carly as the “Can- terbury Tales” the wife of Bath slowed herself, a widow half a dozen times over, who knew all about the widow business, having become so expert at the trade that she spotted one future husband at the funeral of his predecessor, and at once laid her plans for his speedy capture. As the literature of the English language flows on down the stream of time it is Hterally lardmarked here and there with widows. Midway the side is the relict of Aminidab Willmer, who fell at Edgehill and left her £200, She was a heroine in her way. She must have been, or Sir Hudibras could not by any possibility have fallen in love with her, and that he did £o is a tribute alike to his piety and his common sense. Of course, the £200 had nothing to do with it. Hudi- bras despised money when she was con- cerned, but that decent sum would not have been thrown away had it come with a beauty so charming as she is represented by the gull-tipped pen of the poet butler. Nor should the widow of Sir Roger de Coverly be torgotten, obdurate though she was, She was an exception among wid- ows, at.d Addison, who had much experi- er.ce with at least one widow, the one ho married, no doubt endeavored to make Sir Roger's flame as nearly as possible the op- posite of the shrewd countess, who, in his case, did most of the courting, married him ofthand, almost in spite of himself, and then would not let him go to the tav- ern unless he promised to sit by the win- dow so that she could see that he did not spend the time in talking to any woman other than her own sweet jealous self, Thackeray’s Widows. That Thackeray had no particular love for the genus widow is apparent to any one who reads the inimitable stories that seem- ed'to flow so easily from his pen, but which were really wrought out with the most painstaking care. It is said of one military critic who could never see anything ex- traordinary tn the successes of great gen- erals that he must at some time have nar- rowly missed being a great general himself, On the same principle it is not difficult to believe that, Judging from the sarcasn ‘Thackeray expends on the widows, he must at some time have been duped by a widow, or so nearly so that he remembered the in- cident with a resentment that finally broadened so as to include the whole wid- ow tribe. Thackeray's widows, and he has dozens of them, are always tricky. They always proceed on the hypothesis that Providence intends to provide them with another husband, as a compensation for the one he took away, and so they do all they can to put themselves in sympathy with the divine plans. A Thackeray widow cherishes the notion that the position of husband to her is like that of a captain of a ship, to be filled by promotion as soon as a vacancy occurs. A Thackeray widow is ready to marry anybody that fate pro- vides, and to do all she can to promote matrimonial occurrences. What could be more unique, and at the same time widow- ish, than the control exercised over Henry Esmond, who loves the daughter, and yet is persuaded, in spite of himself, to become her father by marrying her widowed moth- er? It is not often that a widew is Fo badly in want of a husband as to take one from her own daughter, but there are such widows, and nobody knew the fact better than Thackeray. Another Widow Painter. Dickens was another artist of widowhood who could touch up to perfection the pe- cullar characteristics of the species. To do him justice, however, the most charming bits of nature were in connection with three or four characters, none of them bad. There was Peggotty, who, as the widow of the dull but amiable Barkis, is even more attractive than when her buttons came off while hugging the juvenile David. Peg- gotty was honest and sincere. She made old Barkis a good wife in spite of his “nearness,” and after he d left the box under his bed, with its siore of guineas, and gone into the nearest churchyard, she showed no disposition to seek a successor. Neither did Mrs. Grummidge. It is- true that her inclination to bemoan the virtues of the departed “old un” somewhat de- tracted from her society manners, bul even when an opportunity was offered of aes sail a second time on the sea of rimony she did not embrace it, but, instead, according to the veracious narra- ative of Mr. Peggotty, “ups with a bucket” and gives the ship’s cook an intimation not to be misunderstood that, while his in- tentions might be perfectly honorable, they were certainly far from being appre- ciated. it would have been a good thi sc for Mrs. Coppertield If she had had the dis. position and the bucket of Mrs. Grummidge when Mr. Murdstone came calling, but the poor little thing was so quiet, so helpless, so dependent, so clinging, that she would probably have married any one who came along and asked her. There are some widows that, like a drop of hot beeswax, will stick to anything they happen to faii on, and Mrs. Copperfield was one of that kind. If Dora had outlived David she would have been a second, but Dickens pend well pence = one widow of that variety is enoug! for any story, and Dora died in time. u om Imitation Widows. Two ladies, both at the time unmarried, have given tho world Iiterary pictures of widows, and each made a most grotesque failure. One was Amelia Rives, in the “Quick or the Dead,” who tried to paint a widow and achieved a result similar to what {s sometimes seen on the stage when @ young girl tries to play the part of an old woman. She may put on a white wig and walk with a very respectable hobble, but beneath the white hairs are seen the bright eyes and s":ooth skin of youth. So, with Amelia Rives’ widow, who swings in the top of a tree; she Is only the imitation article; and could no more deceive the pub- Mc than a stage bald-head could deceive a fly. The other fraudulent widow is in Miss Evans’ “Vashti.” At first a grass widow, she becomes a real widow without know- Ing {t. She 1s an entirely spurious product. Even a grass widow of the present day, when deserted by her lawful spouse, would rise and say to herself: “Enough of a thing’s enough,” and when an eligible man came along on a still hunt for a wife, would hie to the nearest court and procure a divorce on the ground of failure to sup- port. If she had scruples on this score, she might alter her plan of action and em- ploy a detective to look up her recreant spouse and see whether he were really alive or dead, but she would never allow such a prize as Dr. Gray to slip through her fingers, not she! ‘The creation of Owen Meredith, or, rath- er, the creation that Owen Meredith stole from George Sand, is another striking ex- ample of a widow as she exists in the im- gination of a poet. os A New Society Idel and a Different Kind of Hair. From the Chicago Record. The besfy foot ball hero is put to filght by the slim collegian with a banjo. see Wilhelm A. Lippert, the Cape Colony forger, has waived examination, and will return voluntarily to Cape Colony to stand trial as scon as extradition papers can be obtained. WHIST -MANNERISMS. a Some Pecularities Noticeable Among Votaries of the Game. From the St. Louls Globe-Democrat. The methods and mannerisms observable among whist players are exceedingly va- rious, and some of them ure extremely amusing. Peculiarities are by no means confined to weak:\players, but are nearly as prevalent among those of the first rank. No one who has taken part in the several tournaments played at the Office Men's Club can have failed to have noticed scores of individual eccentricities. The nervous Players form quite a considerable class. Such men wear their nerves not only outside of their skins, but also outside of their clothes. A whisper tn a far corner of the room, the shuffling of a single pair of feet or any other noise that would pass unnoticed by a person of average physical constitution sets a man of this class fairly wild. He squirms in his chair, plays badly and finally tries to secure silence by thun- dering raps on the table, making ten times the disturbance that the original offender did. Next in prominence is the player who cannot help abusing his partner. Of this genus there are several species. Probably the most common is the denunciatcry. He informs his partner in strong language this his play can only be explained on the ground that he is trembling on the verge of the idiot asylum, or gives him to un- derstand that he is a whist ignoramus. The mildly sarcastic is another type, the man who in a gentle voice asks for an ex- janation of the exact mental process that led his partner to believe that some pe- evliarly diabolical blunder could be of ad- vantage to their score, or who quietly remarks that he ts pleased that only two tricks were lost on a hand, when it would have been possible for his ‘partner, by the exercise of a little Ingenuity, to throw away four. Then thers is a man who uses a bludgeon, informing his partner that ft 1s not necessary for him to use a shovel to throw tricks out of the window, and remarking in a loud tone that it Is hard for a man to win when he has three opponents. There are a number of ways in which such criticism {s met. Some maintain, In spite of absolute proof to the contrary, that their play was correct. The more common method is for the malefactor to grow nervous, turn red and play ten times worse than before. A not unusual method is to claim that a wrong card was drawn by accident, or that the player made a mistake as to who had led. The fact that no one ever believes such statements seems to have no effect on the men who make them. There are two particularly exasperating kinds of players, those who are too rapid and those who are too slow. Give one of the first class a good hand and when he leads a winning card he seems unable to wait until the rest have played, but holds his next card in his hand separated from the remainder. This practice gives rise to any number of improper intimations. The slow player is almost as exasperating. With only a single card of a suit in his hand he will retlect for haif a minute be- fore putting it on the ace led. Then there is the man who keeps his eyes glued to his hand, as if in fear that it would escape him, and sees scarcely anything that is played by his pgrtner or his opponents. This fault is a very common one. Then there is the man who puts every winning card with a bang on the table. He is usually of bucolic antecedents. It is nearly always the case that the man who hesi- tates Ia lost. When a player is seen gazing upward toward the chandelier, as if to ex- tract inspiration from that article of furni- ture, his partner shudders, for he knows that he is nearly certain to commit some outrageous abomination. The man vho plays a good game when with mediocre | partners, but goes to’ pieces when with xperts, simply because he thinks that he must do something extraordinary and con- sequently never plays a natural card, ts peculiarly trying. If players would follow cardinal rules, to keep their eyes on rd and never to become “rattied,” ame of whist would be greatly im- proved. - —s00 ‘ORE THE Justice Was Done the Horse W . Tail Waw Cropped. From Life, hadow of Mohammed!” exclaimed the cad. “H. I got ‘em again, Mustapha, or {s that a real horse “It 1s a real horse,” may It please your highness, and, what is more wonderful, a horse that can tal “Allah Kebur—God ts most What does the animal want?” “Justice, oh, great cadi,” exclaimed the horse, in the purest Arabic, from which strain bis gums plainly showed he was de- scended. “I am told that even a horse, though It be men that misuse him, may ob- tain justice at your hands.” “Right you are. This particular cadi likes some horses petter than he does most men. Besides, tf you have any reliable stable information he might use it to ad- vantage If there shall be any racing next year. But what is your grievance? “It Is this, oh, sire and dam of all jus- tice. Know that I was owned by a master who loved me and whom I served well. But he became poor and was forced to sell me to what ig called an Anglomaniac. I had not been long his, when one day he brought a cruel-looking man to the stable, and, after locking the doors, threw mo down, fastened my legs and then, with a pair of shears, cut off three or four of the vertebrae of my tail and then stopped the bleeding by searing the end of it with a red-hot iron, thus causing me most awful agony.” “Why did they do this?” “I do not know, unless their eyes and minds are diseased, and they think that a paint brush sticking up from the northeast corner of a horse ts more beautiful than the graceful, flowing tail with which na- ture has endowed our race. “But it seems to have healed up all right now.” “True, your highness. But my flowing tail was not only a thing of beauty. It also was of use. Perhaps beneath your highness’ turban there is a bald head —" “Tut, tut! That has nothing to do with the case, and I rule out that last remark as incompetent, irrelevant and immate- rial.” “Perhaps, then, the tip of your nighness’ sublime nose has been toyed with by the common house fly, who tickles, but does not sting. Without my tail my tender legs and flanks are exposed to the merciless attacks of horse flies, who sting and bite unmercifully, and 1 have no defense against them. In hot weather, when the heat alone {ts torment, my life Is one con- stant round of torture.” “Staffir Allah—God forgive me! but this 1s most cruel. Justice shal done, good horse. Mustapha, do you know this Angio- maniac?" “I do, your hightiess. The Glaour is cne of what they call the four hundred, and is one of the loudest psalm singers, besides being a member of Anthony Comstock’s society, of Sheikh Gerry's society and a trustee of two or threé hospitals.” “Seek him out,,then, Mustapha, convey him to a cell, remove his garments ard tie his arms and legs. Then heat the cell to a hundred degrees and ‘lose the door tight, having first released in {t three or four score business-like horse flies. A year from next week Thursday ca!l my atten- tion to his case, and I will tell vou what further to do.” “It is well, your highness,” replied Mus- tapha, as he depactud to carry out the sentence. “May your highness’ shadow never be less,” said the horse; ‘'your highness must come of the stock, of Solomon the Wise. “Murakkas—you are dismissed,” said the eadi, and the horse cantered off to his stable, giving vent every few strides to gentle little horse layghs of satisfaction. The cadi disappeared behind the curtain, saying, “There are others, no doubt, but when it comes to the only original Cohen among the cadis I am it.” powerful. Why She Was Sure. From the Detroit Free Press. Hers was a delicious dream of everlasting summer time. “Willie,” she said to the young fellow holding her hand, “I love you better than anything in the whole state of Michigan.” He was in raptures. “Are you sure?’ he asked in joyous mood. “Sure,” she reiterated, “sure. Charlie is in Chi- cago, Frank is in Indiana, and Jack and Harold left for Canada yesterday.” 2° Too Well Satisfied. From the Indianapolis Journal. “I wonder,” complained Uttle Rastus, “why ‘possum an’ watermelon cain’t be ripe at de same time?” “You fool niggah,” re- plied Uncle Mose, severely, “ef possum an’ watermelon was on earf togedder at de same time, noboddy ,wouldn’t take de trouble to try to git to hebben.” LIFE IN A SOD HOUSE Not So Pleasant as It Might Be, Especially for the Housewife. There Are No Social Distinctions, Dur- ing the Early Years at Least —Woman’s Hard Lot. From the Chicago Times. On a new farm in western Nebraska the house is @ very incorepicuous object. The eye wanders over immense grain fields, perhaps a large timber claim of young box elders and cottonwoods, a garden, a roomy steck yard and the sod roofs of many sheds for poultry, stock and machinery; but except for a wreath of smoke or the chance reflection of a window pane, the dwelling would be overlooked. It 1s often of the half-dugout, half-sod- house order of architecture, the back part hollowed out of the side of a low hill and the front of the squares of sod merely placed together, and all upheld by a slight frame of wood, with a door and one or two window casings, and perhaps a few rafters overhaad. It is very small and low, and serves the single purpose of shelter. There is a possibility even of its failure in this, and the trap door aslant at one side of the house proclaims the cyclone cave— ordinarily the receptacle for milk and but- ter. Life in one of these prairie dwellings Is certainly getting close to nature and the primitive; closer, perhaps, than the Arab tribes of the desert, who, on the whole, observe more laws, religious and secular, and have less solitude and social depriva- tion. To realize this one has only to fancy & man and wife in a sodhouse fifteen miles from the nearest village, in one of the sparsely settled districts of western Nebraska. For days, and in some seasons for weeks, they see no human being out- side of their own household. Even beg- ging Indians and tramps are almost un- known in this country, Prairie dogs cast up thelr mounds and found towns in the unmolested spots about the place; gophers and ficld mice burrow through the sod walls of the house; not infrequently snakes swing themselves down from the rafters inside, or crawl in at the door to get at any milk pans standing about. At night coyotes and some of the gray wolves come up through the canon and skulk about the poultry yard or howl close to the win- dows. Through the day, while the man fs in the flelds, the herding usually falls to the woman's lot. Probably each takes a noon luncheon in a paper, to save coming back to the house until night. Become Prematurely Old. The woman attends to her necessary household duties, threws @ gunny sack over her bronco’s back, jumps astride, rounds up the cattle and drives them down the canons to graze on the steep sides or in a low strip beside a creek. Canons are not sociable places; one can scarcely have a conception of the primeval unless he has walked through a canon. He thinks of the dawn of creation, of the races of extinct mammoths, and wonders 1f centaurs have not merely retired into the inner caverns. What the sodhouse woman thinks about all day long in soll- tude like that it is hard to tell—the mort- gage on the farm, diseases among the stock, the prospects of the crops, the time when they can put up their frame dwell- ings, the hard, unadorned facts in the tread-mill of her life; she makes new plans for the work, work, work, which is her sole law of existence. Perhaps she has memories of another time, other surround- ings, but they must seem vague and far away. Even the weather is monotonous; there is practically always the cloudless sky, the brilliant sun, fhe strong, diy wind, that curls the leaves of the young corn and turns the buffalo grass brown. Verms of Perfect Equality Women, and men, too, become withered and prematurely old. Hair and skin take on the general tint of things about them. ‘Their teeth drop out without a thought of replacing them. And there comes a@ cer- tain feverish look in their eyes—a look of intensified expectation, a straining into the future. They lose all thought ot appear- ance; it gets to mean vanity rather than self-respect to them, Such a life must bave its inevitabie mentai and moral ef- tect. All the sensitive, the aesthetic, some- times the, moral sense itself, becomes atrophied. The tragedies of city are unearthed and brought to light, but the silent tragedies ofgthese desolate lives are swallowed up and lost in the remoteness and immensity of the prairie wastes. it is a motley assortment of humanity that takes the claims and homesteads on the Dpening up of a country like this. Ex- cowboys, who have come to admit the claims of a single wife and family, con- firmed pioneers who move with the ad- vance of railroads, people of refinement au reverses of fortune. many Russian and Gernan immigrants, and a sprinkling of all the other nations of the earth. After the first rush a sifting proc sets in which soon separates them into three classes: Those who stay through every- thing and make the prosperity of the coun- try, the non-progressive, who never get beyond the original sod house, and the shifting transients who move at a sign of trouble and come back in a time of pros- perity. There ts, however, no’ sifting social pro- cess during these first years. The sod house levels all ranks, and at the rare in- tervals when any of the people are brought tcgether socially it is on terms of perfect equality; they simply take one another for granted, with no question of antecedents, family history, or social advantages. They are people who are starting life anew and living cn hopes of the future, with for- getfulness of the past and endurances of the present. A woman’s lot 1s the harder; she misses more things in such a life than’a man does. It she ts strong enough, mentally and physically, to endure {t until they come into better things, she lives out her allotted time unpraised and unrewarded of this world. If she has a mental bias toward the morbid or melancholy, she ts in danger of adding one to the list of the women in the hospital for the insane at Lincoln. The real pioneers, who survive every- thing, In the end have comfortable homes and have created some advantages for their children. They have lived in the sod house until the year of a good crop, and few household necessities to be bought, and have had the small, bare, frame cot- tage built. The next season, if good for- tune continues, a porch and an “L” are added, and in ‘a few years it is enlarged and comfortably fitted up. Often the old sod house is left standing near the new one for some purpose, or sometimes as a matter of sentiment. oo Cause for Dejection. From Brooklyn Lite. She (having just rejected him)—“But ‘there are jvst as good fish in the sea——’ He—“That’s just it. I'll be going through this whole thing again a week from now.” REVIVAL OF THE HEARTH. The Renaissance of the Open Grate, the Andirons the Log. From the New York Sun, With each succeeding winter the open fire place is coming more and more into fashion and use. Not only the grate, wherein one may build a heaping fire of sea coal and then sit and watch the glow steal steadily from lump to lump, but the open hearth on which may burn a good Yule log and almost roast an ox. There are plenty of make-believes yet, of course, gas logs and fires of colored spar, but the open fireplaces to which reference is made as coming more and more into vogue are the real things. The custom of laughing at coal fires as old-fashioned, and @ system of heating that treated one to a touch of the tropics on his face and gusts from Greenland a his back, has passed, and all the modern houses aro built with fireplaces. They are so cozy and so quaint, we are told, and small fortunes are spent on curiously de- signed tongs, pokers and shovels; gor- geously nozzled beilowses are hung up by the mantelpiece, and cunning artificers are employed to work out brazen fenders on the old models. Photographers have been at work getting pictures of chimney pleces that have inclosed the ashes of centuries, and the marble pillars and slabs which the builders some time rejected now occupy the position of honor as guardians of the hearth. But it is in the open hearth that the money of the rich New Yorker is being expended today. The cavernous fireplace is once more hollowed out in the thickness of the walls, the lofty mantelpieces are run up to the ceiling, massive andirons are set in the fireplace, and logs big enough to last a whole winter's night are hoisted on them and set blazing. Some of the and- irons that are displayed are certainly mag- nificent reproductions of classic models, while the iron casings that surround the hearth are rich with castings and repousse work. There fs a distinct leaning, too, toward a revival of Dutch tiled fireplaces and settles, and ingle nooks are as much the height of fashion as big sleeves and Napoleonia. In one store that deals in these things is to be seen the old sliding pole screen that was in use when the “Casket of Gems” and “Friendship’sOffering” were read behind its rosy shade; and there has been an appre- ciable influence upon the price of brass and copper coal scuttles. The whole movement, indeed, has its curiously mingled senti- mental and financial aspects. It is true that there is a little spice of humbug about the thing, for while many cheerful and jolly things are said anent the flashing firelight and the glorious cratkling of the back log, the fact re- mains that the shrewd architect and heuseholder have quietly agreed that a plain, well-equipped American furnace will be a very good thing to have in the base- ment for heating the halls and for turning on in the mornings when the wet log is sputtering and the coal fire is showip more than a suspicion of a rebellious in- clination to smoke. But the revival ts an admirable 6ne anyway, and it puts some real meaning into the sentiment of “Hearth and Home,” which somehow ts lacking when the hearth is a register or a steam radiator. SS ee THE REIGN OF THE BICYCLE. The Present Passion for the Wheel is Not Likely to Die Out. From the Century. What may b: called, not improperly, the biéycle passion has full possession of sev- eral leading countries of the world. Eng- land and France, notably those parts of them in and about London and Paris, have been so given over to it for some time that a lerge proporticn of their population come ard go on ther errands of business or pleasure “on a wheel.” Americans who have recently traveled abroad have been astonished at the geueral use of the bicycle there, and have been still more astonished, on returning to their own country during the last year, to discover what headway the passion has made here. It is said to be a conservative estimate by competent authorities that during the year now clos- ing a quarter of a million bicycles have been sold in this country, and that the number of riders approaches a million There are said to be over 50,00) in New York and its neighborhood, and fully half that number in and about Boston. The latter city ¢: ght the pa: rn ome time before New York did, and has a larger proportion of its population, male and female, regularly devoted to it. Observers of the phenomenon are wonder- ing whether it is merely a passi or whether it “has come to stay er those who have taken it ap will con- tinue it after the novelty has worn off, cr whether they will drop it for the next new fad that shall come along. There are many reasons for thinking that its stay will be permanent. Undoubtedly many of those who take it up because of its vogue will tire of it after a while, but these will not constitute a large proportion of the whole number. The great body of riders find in the bicycle a new pleasure in life, a means for seeing more of the world, a source of better health through open-air exercise, a bond of comradeship, a method of rapid locomotion either for business or pleasure, and many other enjoyments and advan- tages which they will not relinquish. The bicycle has, in fact, become a necessary part of modern life and could not be aban- doned without turning the social progress of the world backward. Few who Lave used it for a tour through the country would think for a moment of giving it up and returning to pedestrianism instead. Aside from the exhilarating joy of riding, which every bicycle devotee will assure you is the nearest approach to flying at pres- ent possible to man, there is the opportu- nity of seeing a constantly changing land- scape. The bicycle is, indeed, the great leveler. It puts the poor man on a level with the rich, enabling him to “sing the song of the open road” as freely as the millionaire, and to widen his knowledge by visiting the regions near to or far from his home, ob- serving how other men live. He could not afford a railway journey and sojourn in these places, and he could not walk through them without tiring sufficiently to destroy in a measure the pleasure which he sougit. But he can ride through twenty, thirt, fifty, even seventy miles of country in a day ‘without serious fatigue, and with no expense save his board and lodging. ‘To thousands of men and women the longing of years to travel a little as soon as they could afford it is thus gratified, virtually without limit; for a “little journey in the world” can be-made on every recurring holiday or vacation. — He Looked Pleasant. From Truth. Mr, Lenz (photographer)—"I have not for @ long time had so good a sitter as you are. The expression is exactly right. How did you gain such a control over the facial muscles? Are you an actor?” Mr. Rhodster—"'No, sir.” Mr. Lenz—"V well! Perhaps you are a@ cyclist?” Mr. Rhodster—“Yes, I am.” Mr. Lenz—“Ah, that explains it! It comes from riding the machine on stony roads and trying to look as if you enjoyed it. A SKILFUL ZEPHYR. 4 Physical Cultu Corset Co.’s “warccroxs, REDUCTIONS. The goods must all go—and these prices ought to wake them go quickly: 87 pairs of G0c. Fast Biack Corsets. ...89 CTS 60 prs. of 47c, White and Drab Corsets.29 OTS 57 prs. of $1 and $1.25 Jackson Walsts.79 CTS 47 pairs Misses’ 75-cent Corsets. 29 CTs firs. Whelan, Mgr.,xo' sraxcu. 426-204 \ ors, Toys, Scrap “Pictures, Materials for Pa: 427-1m* Pillsbury’s Best } Flour, $4.25 Bb. NATIONAL PRIDE, PER BSL. PATAPSCO SUPERLATIVE. x ‘When it comes to tour—net a firm ‘or indi- vidual tn the soutn can better our prices. CFGenuine Elgin Creamery Butter, 28 cents i= mand. wit. weDAPAN. 050 LA. AVE., Tysicsale and’ Retall Groceries.’ "Phone 102. Fine Pictures Down in Price —25 to 381-8 per cent—offering you —— an opportuaity "to make av elegant New Year's gift. The reduced ple- tures include Engravings, Water Col- ors, Artotypes, Artists’ Handsome Proof Etchings, ete. Look in the rear gallery for them, Veerhoff’s Art Galleries, 1217 F St. 427-284 HLT UTI HAUT Plenty of Those 12.50 Watches still left—it you want to make a New Year gift. Remember, they are erlid gold—stemwinders and the cases are engraved deautifully, While they last, $12.50 each, Geo. W. Spier, 310 oth St, JUST ABOVE THE “AVENUE.” 424-184 A: kr erm Nae MeN REMNANT PENNE seeee: KG Ae d Stoves rooin, Which ought to be very warm and ‘comfortable. Saas Radiators, $10 —more elaboraje than the stoves and throw out more heat. Taylor's Fireplace Heaters, $25 up. No charge for Keeping ail stoves in repair—for the first year. ¥, tove Tubing Te. Gas Appliance Exchange, $1428 N. Y. Ave. oe 3 DSSS IHTS9O998 000000406700 e SPLOPOLE PLE DSL SSI OPOPO OP OP IOSD :Hair Dressing 'sFor New Year’s. You'll probably and “receive,” ——— naturally you'll want to appear at your best. The rdvanter: of ex- 2 4 b4 tremely modest charges and me > * 3 1S bee | 3 —— fessional service is what we offer. giair Goods at Cut Prices. £ _— Bangs, Wavelets und Switches : at greatiy reduced prices. Best do —— your buying now. & HELLER, 720 SEVENTH ST, 428-28 VOCOSTOTOV VS HSTSSSERGOOTED SOPSS SPS SSS SH SSPSOS HOGS HE Dollar Horse Blankets —RBetter Blankets than you'd really think that a dollar would buy. ‘They 3 @ Were $1.75 before the holidays. % We've made a genuine reduction of ° Per C. Off All Blankets, —and Lap Robes. ‘ Did you know that a horse eats less when kept warm? Kneessi, 425 7th St. a27-34d FOPHPSSSSOSS HS SO99900C00CCH “Shoe News.” No. 115 Published Datiy. Vol. 3, F. H. Wilson,|Winter 929 F St., Shoeg: Ed. and Proprietor. EVENING FOR LADIES. SLIPPERS we tae teare. The Intest and best Receptions. winter shoes for Indice —all colors of the rain-|tre our hand-made calf- bow—the daintiest of g Shapes—iatest — fads—ee-|tin*—of good stout le: Stiected» fo.|ther—made Ike a man shoe, oniy more graceful ‘vrand-new idea—but stock to onler. If you have a peculiar|*ery sensible shale of dress furnish usjand made to unter. with the material and Only $5 Pr. 1 make the slipper to rat a reduction, 6d Beautiful — “Queenly” — “Royal Black Marten Capes — latest cut, fall length— $35. Other Capes at $45, $50 to $80. Willett & Ruoff, 905 Pa. Ave. 28-204 Receive N them No in r tabe ¢ iv color. You're in the Ballet ; at @rrespend Cocca called found delivered Universal Mending Co. ST. ROOM 4, MIst6 F Bunions & Corns REMOVED, we. EACH. Or both feet put in order for $1.00. PROF J. J. GEOR & SON, Pagiors, 6 to 5:30 p.m. Banda: Specialists, 1115 Pa. ave vol 411-108