Evening Star Newspaper, December 29, 1894, Page 14

14 ———————— FOR THE NEW YEAR! Senora Sara Has Some Views About the Resolution Habit. MEN BRAVELY RESOLVE ON REFORM What the Girls Decide Upon for the Coming Year. SOME GOOD INTENTIONS Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. WONDER IF ANY- body ever gets too old or too calloused and cynical tu make fresh resolutions on New Year day, or to renew those of pre- vious years? if itis true that “Hope springs eternal” the annual “resoluting” can be explained, but on no other hypothe- for I am positive - that some of the re- solves that I have heard discussed revent- ly were old enough to vote years ago. Even Dick’s set has the fever. He had some of his friends up to dinner one evening last week, and after they had finished they went into the library for a smoke. There were six of them, and as it was a stag party, the girls were not about. I was told that I “didn’t count,” so I sat In the back parlor and took the smoke and tail sec- ond hand as they came to me through the double doors. They were a jolly lot of men, and I enjoyed it all immensely. One of the men, Jack Minturn, is much older than the others, and quite their idol, much to my regret, so far as Dick is con- cerned, for no boy, however well he has been reared, can resist the flattering at- tentions of a thoroughly cultured man of the world, when that man shows by every act that he is devoted to the younger man, Jack Minturn has a past. Not a happy past, either, not one to mention to ears polite; but he is one of the “eligibles,” and his past is so very far behind him most people who knew it have forgotten it. In fact, he seems to have forgotten it himself. aman of the world like one who has sipped every cup of pleasure, torn all passions to tatters, and come off the field unscathed, is a danger- ous.companion for a young man just en- tering the charmed circle of life. Of course, ail men have their frailties, and one would as weil go and be a monk at once as to hope to find one’s self a friend without im- perfections; but there are sone im)erfec- tions that are more glaring than others, and I have always thought Jack Minturn had most of them in a magnified degree. I have changed my mind After all, one’s life lies within the present. The past is gone, and the future is veiled in mystery. ‘The present can be so lived as to nullify the past and make the future pure, and Minturn has done much to atone; cool and* eynical, he is yet generous and brave, gen- tle aud honest, and when I have done any One injustice 1 am always pleased to re- verse my judgment and acknowledge my mistake. ey Between peals of laughter and puffs of smoke there came to me from the library many witty sentences, and I thought to myself, “Men certainly do enjoy the com- pany of their kind more than women do.” A woman's dinner is generally a dreary thing, unenlivened by the presence of men, and if there is a good woman conteur pres- ent she usually overshadows everybody else and acts like a wet blanket on the others; in itself depressing, for if there is any one thing that a woman dislikes more than another it ts to be outshone by some other woman. “Randolph got back toda: of them say. “Just ir time to ‘schware off agin,’ as Rip would put it," responded Dick. “By jove, what a fool Randolph ts. The gods endowed him with all the attributes of greatness and he has done nothing but play errand boy for the devil since he came in- to his money.” “You forget, my lad, that he is young yet,” Minturn said, in his soft dra wling voice, and with the assumption of age that accor?s but ill with his face, however nu- merous his years. “He will come through all right; I know he has it in him, and lacks but circumstance to bring it cut, though he does not recognize his own powers. A man never does know what latent forces lie within till some mighty love, some tei * afiliction, comes to hu- manize his so: Like a flash it came to I heard one me that his own reform had dated from | the death of a beautiful woman with whose name his own had been connected in a ki of platenie way, and I was giad to think that none of the boys had ever heard of it. I knew what they did not, that he wes looking into an open grave, and from its side, secure in his secret, he was rebuk- ing the thoughtless youths. It was just there that | made up my mind that I had made a mistake. “Just listen to the sentiment of him,” shouted Darcy Bruner. “Old Minturn com- ing the sentimental dodge is a new sensa tion. I say, Minturn, do you believe with the poet, that “Men may rise on stepping stones of their dead selves to hixher things” “1 certainly do, Dare: came the quick, earnest answer. “If we didn't, not many of us would ever mount very high. I be- lieve that it is human nature to trust that somehow, good will be the final goal of ill, ‘That nothing walks with aimless feet; not one life will be destroyed, r cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete." That is my confession of faith, my psalm of life, if you will.” was @ surprised kind of silence for ent, then Darcy asked, hesitatingly: Do you suprose we—could help—that we could save Raudoiplt from himself? Your confession of faith comes mighty near be- ing orthodox, in my opinion, and I don't mind telling you that I like there something somewhere without works being dead” " “Old fellow, you are getting rig to the root of the thing now, Minturn with a sounding slap back. “And it is our business to do what work lies clearly at hand.’ hen convention! Why it ert of Sahara quiet com- pared to the babel that followed. The of them all talked at once, and for ualf an hour th kept ft up. denty Carl Heath observed that as the ‘st day of a new ar was so close, he didn’t see why it ouldn’t be a good plan for all of them vear off. m what?" shouted the others in lar." he respond- form all along the that you are with h, “jus Randolp! n babel broke loose again, till Min- voice quieted them. “I. tell you, eld Polonius’ advice to Laertes is If you choose to fol- from first line to last, from ‘See ter,” to— boys, sound to the core low th: thou “This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the da: Thou canst not then be false to any man, and keep hi¥ precepts to the letter, all you will reed at the end of the year will be a pair of wings.” Just then some friends were announc and I had to leave, much to my regret, for I did want to hear those boys perfect plans. An hour later I went oom for a magazine, © girls grouped in v a d my desk un to and there were rious poste which Dorothy ply immersed in ration that I was rd Bobbi “How before they discov es they shrieked, and pro- that I had ‘no business to steal in m in that way, evidently forzetful of the fact that it ‘as @y room, and the the srlopers. I have not man} which they respect, however. I discovered that they, too, were xetting ready for the new year, by “schwarin’ of” in regulation style. “How far have you got, Dorothy?” asked Jennie as soon as they settled that I might as well remain. ‘It's Bob's turn now, Come, Mouse, how fare you going to reform the coming year?” Bobbie flushed a little, and then sald y | | earnestly: “I can’t think of a single thing of which I am particularly vain, except my writing. The girls all envy me my very English hand, and, you know, it is divinely illegible. I think I will resolve to reconstruct my penmanship. I know that will please papa, for he likes me to write things for him sometimes, and he declares he can never read it after it gets cold, and, for that matter, neither can 1,” she added, natvely. “Jennie,” called Dorothy. “I think I will cultivate my feet,” she replied reftectively. “I do love to remark that I wear ‘ones,’ because, you know, they are small for a girl of my size, but I'd rather have the toothache than break a pair of ones. I think I will add that I wili try to correct my bad habit of ex- aggeration, too.” “Louise.” “I think I will try not to laugh so much. Even if my teeth are fine, I wouldn't like to have a man say of my smile what he did of Maria Kvans’, that I practiced it before the glass, so as to get it to exactly fit my teeth and mouth, as one tries a tailor-made dress.” ora, trot out your individual sins!” 'm going to be good to my mother!” she announced promptly, almost paralyzing the giris. “My patience, Nora, you haven't been beating her, 1 hope!” gasped Jennie. “Oh, no; of course, I didn’t mean that exactly. But you know my mother is de- voted to me, and all her unselfish life she has smoothed things out for me, and tried to make me have a good time. She isn’t strong enough to go out much, and does so enjoy my telling her of our little ad- ventures, but I’m always in a hurry, and sometimes | slight her. I heard her telling a lady only yesterday that she got her only glimpse of the world through my eyes now, and it made me so ashamed to think that I had been so neglectful of her pleasure that 1 wanted to box my own ears. I'm afraid we are none of us as kind to our mothers as we ought to be; we are prone to forget all the sacrifices that they have made for us, all the love they have lav ished on us, and take it as a prerogative rather than a privilege. Now, you hear me! During the year 1895 whoever is slighted, pushed out of the way, or sat upon, it isn’t going to be my mother!” “Bravo!” shouted the girls approvingly, while Bobbie said gently that perhaps that would be a good sentiment to add to the general list—a suggestion that was speedily adopted. “It's my turn now, girls,” remarked Dorothy, after she had written the last resolution, “but my sins of omission and commission are so numerous that I'm just going to put it, ‘Dorothy will emulate the sleventh commandment,’ and that will ecver the whole business. Now this is the way the resolutions read—I'll put the in- dividual resolves first— “Bobbie—Will return to common-sense principles In penmanship. “Jennie—Resolved to confine herself to the strict truth—when it promises not to be disagreeable. And to make things more comfortable for her understanding. ‘Louise—Will call a halt on smiling to display her teeth. “Nora has concluded to be good to her mother, and give her own soul a chance to srow—so have we all. Mem.: Sara will be glad to know this. | “Dorothy stands pat on the eleventh commandment, nice men given the prefer- ence.” Now here are the resolutions in general: “We positively will not use rouge during the year of 1805—it’s vulgar, anyhow, and going out of fashion, girls, “We will tell the truth when it will not hurt, and keep our mouths shut when it does. “We will do kind acts in a kind way. To do it otherwise destroys its value. “Whatever we find to dislike in others we will correct in ourselves. Mem.: ‘This refers particularly to chewing gum in pub- lic and giggling. “We will try to be helpful at all times, but not officiously so. “We will cultivate the graces of virtue; then valor—that means to quit screaming at mice and spiders—then benevolenc then loyalty; then reverence; then faithful- ness; then filial piety; then friendship, and, lastly, the right government of the state. That doesn’t mean woman's suffrage, ex- actly, but just that we will try to be en honor to our fathers, those of us who have them. I stole those ideas from old Con fucius. Now, girls, sign it quick, and let’ get our beauty sleep.” While they were signing the unique doc- ument Bobbie explained to me that the very latest fad in social life is a “Resolu- tion party,” where the girls of a set meet to make individual and general resolutions for conduct for the coming year. Such a waste of time and clean paper! When I went up to tuck Rose in and give her a good-night kiss, I found her with her head on her desk, fast asleep, and under her elbow was a printed list of George Washington's maxims, which she had copied from “Ist” to “54th,” and had com- menced on a second set, which were mark- ed “Lett: I felt so lonesome with no resolutions to keep me company that I actually sat down | and wrote out Washington's last maxim, | which is comprehensive enough for the | whole fifty-four, and it reposes against my | dressing case mirror: | Labor to keep aliv in your breast that little spark of celestial fire called con- science.” . SENORA SARA. —— a’ TRIBES OF CLAY EATURS. Men and Animals Who Devour Earth and Sand. ‘rom the Westminster Gazet ‘The habit of using sand and clay as pa of man’s regular food eppears to be more widespread than fs generally supposed. It | tribe 6f Indians on the Orinoco, the Otio- macs, among whom, during the two or three months in which their game supply | is cut off by floods, each person is sald to | consume about five ounces daily of a fine, | unctuous clay. The Indians of the Holivi- | an plateaus use a similar earth mixed with | sand, and the practice is also found in several islands of the West Indies. A num- ber of the African tribes are earth eaters, as were some of their representatives in | America in slavery days. The natives of | New Caledonia may also be called rock (aters, stalactitic crusts appearing to be a faybrite dainty. In Persia earth is large- ly eaten as an aid to digestion instead o: as a food. In Scandiravia and Germa, are many earth eaters, and in ceryin ountain quarries the workmen spread a ‘stone butter,” consisting of a kind of clay, on their bread. The habit seems to be most prevalent in tropical regions, and more 30 in women than men. It is known that cer- tain animals—such as the wolf, reindeer and stag—have appetites fur eafth food. ————rer Mis First Love Undimmea. From the Somerville Jourral. Intimate friend—“Has your husband's love grown cool? Sarcast no. He loves him- elf just as much now as ne did when we were married twenty years ago.” soe Primer Lessors. From the New York Wo See the man. The man seems The man has some-thing in his hand. It is a Christ-mas gift. Did San-ta Claus’ bring Christ-mas gift? 6, a young Christ-mas gift. What is it? the man his la-dy sent the man_ his | thu The man does not know. The man seems sad. HORSFORD'S ACID PHOSPHATE Makes an = Drink With water and sugar only. Delicious. } THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 29, 1894-TWENTY PAGS. THE INSECT MIMICS An Account of Some Curious and Marvelous Transformations. BUTTERFLIES THAT TURN INTO LEAVES Some Resemble Leaves, Others Twigs and Branches. STORIES ABOUTCRABS Written for The Evening Star. N WANDERING through one ‘of the picturesque canons of the Sierra Madre mountains one day I noticed coming down through the air with a peculiar motion a green leaf. It zigzag- ged from side to side, and finally landed: in a bush near at hand. Wondering merely why such a leaf Z (A would fall from a spruce tree I would have passed on had not my dog, with more prescience, stopped and nosed the -leaf, telling me, after his fashion, to look. This I did, and found this green object that had come scurrying down was not a leaf at all, but a great green katydid with gauze-like wings, protected by covers that were so exact in their imitation of other leaves in general that any one would have been deceived. The insect was a natural mimic, and even its flight downward from the tree was a protective one, calculated to deceive any feathered enemy that might have been in the vicinity. This phase of animal life, the feature of protective resemblances, is one well calculated to attract our at- tention and cause unceasing wonderment. Nature has widely endowed certain de- fenseless animals with a certain pro- tective resemblance; made them mimics of their surroundings, so that they may avoid their enemies, and the extent to which this is carried among certain ani- mals, especially Insects, makes the study one of absorbing interest. In all life there is a certain adaptation to its peculiar surroundings. Gaily tinted birds are not, as a rule, found on white saidy wastes, but in forests where there is deep coloring and the contrast 1s not great. The tawny lion, the giraffe, the ostrich, are forms which assimilate their surroundings. In California the horned toad is almost as invisible as the sand in which it lives. A little canon toad mimics the rocks upon which it rests, in color, while the frogs of the east are hardly di tinguishable from the green reeds among which they hide. A Deceptive Resemblance. This peculiar method of defense 1s partic- ularly marked among insects. Some years ago a traveling fukir stopped at a bunga- low in India and offered for a small sum to show the guests of the sahib, who were new in India, a miracle. Told to go ahead he produced a smail tree with leaves about three inches long, which he thrust into the ground, then took from a large box car- ried by an attendant a dozen butterflies of great beauty. After the guests had ex- amined them and assured themselves that the insects were alive the fakir tossed them one by one into the air. Each alight- ed on the tree and became Invisible. When all had disappeared the fakir asked the satib to leok for them, The Englishman examined the tree carefully, but failed to find the dozen buttertlies, each of which was four inches across. They had all heard of the Indian hy; notism, and thought that this was an instance in hand. but the 1 fakir caught up the tree and giving it a shake the insects floated in the air for a moment, and then gatheced about the tree again to mysteriously disappear. The fakir then pointed out the illusion; the butterflies were not a foot from their eyes, and so mimicked the leaves when their wings were folded that the decep- tion was perfect, both In color and shape. There were even the delicate mold spots, the central or midrib of the leaf and the delicate lateral branches from it, while the stem of the leaf s closely imitated the lower portion of the wings which 1 aga ke stem. mimic, known to science as kallina, if followed by a bird simply alights on a bush or tree nd and the fakir has of the natura! protection of the butterfly. Walking Sticks, is seen in many of by The same protection our common butterflies that mimic flowegs or I Remarkable resemblances are noticed noths, some mimicking so that when the of wood or stone, ple pursue: Some interesting ins sof mimicry are fcund in India. A naturalist noted a butterfly here that was not only a remark- able mimic, but when followed it imitated iar flight of a poisonous butterfly obnoxioxs te the birds. In almost every group of insects we find this protective resemblance, and those among the walking sticks’ and walking leaves. are the most wonderful. In the latter we have an example of an insect so sxactly resembling a green leaf that it would bear close examination without dis- covery. The insect looks as though it might have been made up from several pieces ef leaves. They are of a vivid green, with delicate leaves, exactly as one finds In a leaf. While the phyllium resembles a leaf, the phasmidae is a mimic of a twig or branch. ‘The long straight body is a perfect stick, the legs resembling twigs branching from it, and when walking they move in so de- liberate a manner that even then the il- lusion is not destroyed. A South American walking stick is a veritable giant, almost a foot in length. These are green, resem- bling young shoots, and are found among but’ one observed Bolt, green_verdure; by the English naturalist, was a + perfect mimic of a dead twig, and bad yon its sides and legs curious excrescenuces that mimicked fungus growths, so that the bird who had seen it moving would consider it nothing but a dried twig The curious insects known as the mantis kable for their powers of mim- Their movements are slow; their bodies dnd legs resemble twigs, and they are by this disguise enabled to creep upon their prey. One species Leen known to seize and eat small birds, who, thinking it a bit of the branch, so fall Into its cluteh- s. Perhaps the most remarkable mimic ameng these insects is a pink mantis of India, that is almost exact in its resem- blance to an orchid. The object here ts evidently to capture insects that alight on it by mistake. A Spider's Device. Many insects protect their eggs or young by unconscious mimicry. This Is true of the ess of many insects. Those of the mantis resemble in tint the immediate objects; while a South American moth, in the caterpillar form, makes a lattice-work cocoon that resembles a seed. Many of the spiders are mimics. In my gurden I had yellow spiders that lived in the flowers of yellow nasturtiums; green ones that offered little contrast to the rosebush upon which they lay in wait for the helpless aphidae. The most extraordinary attempt at de- fense it was ever my good fortune to ob- serve on the part of a spider was one in which the insect not only disguised, but rendered itself completely insensible. T was wandering through the bog cedar bush of one of the Florida keys, sixty miles from Cuba, when I came upon a huge web that completely barred the way; the long cables extended as braces in every direction, while in the center poised a big yellow spider. The moment it caught sight of me it began to swing the web, first slowly, and then more rapidly, until in a short time the spider had disappeared from view, although not a foot from my eyes; it was simply vibrating in its web, but so rapidly that my eyes could not follow it. In a few moments the motion gradually ceased, and as I remained perfectly quiet the spider assumed {ts normal position, be- ginning the swinging when I touched the le, and | web. Such -a device would completely de- celve a bird. I may not inaptly refer to the mimicry of thé crabs, which, with the insects, con- stitute a great branch of the animal king- dom, and are, popularly: speaking, the 1 sects of the sea. It is equally as essentiai that they should be protected from the various predatéry «fishes, and in almost every instance they resemble to some ex- tent their surroundings, and, in several in- stances, deliberately disguise themselves. On the coral keys of the tropics I have seen crabs come out of their dens of sand and eye me as 1 lay there watching them, but these spectral fellpws' were almost in- visible even a few feet away, so white were they, almost perfectly mimicking the sand in their absence of color. Not fifty feet away, where the shore line ended and the sand was covered with a yellowish-green matting of dead leaves of bay-cedar, lived another crab, Gecarcinus, a sturdy fellow that climbed the cactus, and it was a brilliant purple, with greenish tints on 1 legs, and so perfectly secure amid its sur- roundings that 1 was almost bitten by one, mistaking it for the purple fruit of the prickly pear, on a leaf of which it hung. The so-called stone crabs mimic their surroundings ‘and can hardly be distin- guished; and the box crab, which folds its legs beneath its shell, shutting up like a turtle, would be passed by the hungriest s) Stories About Crab The most interesting mimics I have seen in‘crab life are those which live in the sargassum or gulfweed. I have spent hours in drifting with these disconnected bits of the sargassum sea, on the edge of THREE MODISH GOWNS A Superb Dinner Gown That is Calculated to Be Effective, A Design is Shown That is Suitable for Walking and One Also for Calling. For a long, lov g time now woolen gowns have had the call. There was such a be- willering array of pretty weaves oftcred that silk was crowded to the rear and fell into great disfavor, except for gerni- ture and furbishing up @ gown. It may be authoritively stited that silk is “in” again, It comes in an odd perforated de- sign, like the velvet applique that was fashionable fifty years ago, only the silk is to bo made tuto gowns which will be worn over colored slips. The effect is ex- tremely rich, Ilaminated silks, richly bro- caded, but in extremely moderate prices, are in high favor for teas and luncheons. Moire, if you can pay about $ a yard for the Gulf Stream, where it flows from the tropics, and here there is a special pelagic fauna, all of which are mimics. It is al- most impossible to distinguish the crabs even when looking at ti.em closely, as upon their backs are reflecied the exact tints of the weed—a remarkable phase in the strug- gle for existence. In this same locality, and I have also observed it among northern crabs, there Was one we called a decorator. In its nor- mal condition it resembled a moss-covered stone, and was safe from many of its enemies, but it was evidently not satistied, as upon its back was a perfect forest of seaweed of various kinds, which might have been coasidered accidental growths, but such was not the case. As a rule crabs eject to this invasion of their shell, but our little mimic was an exception to it, recognizing the fact that it could secure perfect immunity from fishes by covering its back with weed, and forthwith doing so. To test it, 1 cleaned the back of several with a brush, then released them In an aquarium, where there were some broken bits of weed. Almost immediately they be- gen tu place the weed upon their backs. Selzins a bit in the big claw, they pressed the broken end to the mouth, evidently at- taching some glutinous secretion, then reached up and deliberately fastened it to the shell. This was repeated until in about two hours the back of the crab was well planted, and resembled a miniature forest, thoroughly protecting the animal from the observation of its many enemies. Such are a few instances of this remark- able feature in the struggle for life, a fea- ture that results in the preservation of myriads of animals that otherwise would be wiped out of existence. FOOD FOR BABIES, Preparation of Cow's Milk—The Sup- ply Necessary for Infants, From the New York Telegram, All authorities of thé subject of proper food for babies agtve oni this fact, that in case a mother cannot nurse her child, or a nurse cannot be cbiained, the best substi- tute is good cow milk. It is much better, and, what is alsé an important. fuctor, much cheaper than all other baby foods, but it must be prepared in a very careful manner in order to constitute a beneficial nourishment for the young child. The principal difference between cow milk and mother’s milk is in the quantitygand quality of caseine which each contains. There is not only considerably more cas- eine in the former than jn the latter, Lut in coagulating in the stomach it algo c dies into larger lumps, and is, theret more difficult to digest than mother's ilk, which forms into Lght flakes. This tau may in a large measure be remedied by r ducing the cow milk with oatmeal or barley gruel, taking from two to, three teaspuon- fuls of the meai and boiling it from fifteen to twenty minutes in one pint of water, after which it must be surained through a fine cleve. As cow milk lacks the swe ness of mother’s milk an addition of sugar is required. Dr. A. Seibert has comp table which altords a reliable guide for mothers in preparing food tor their littie ones, and tells them how much, how often id when to feed them. Dr. Seibert holds that the “weight, not the age of the inant, determ: od properiy.” He advises to 1 baby from time to are its food by the fol- r- Gruel, ozs. Gws 9:0 10 Tito Lt Sy io io ds | % oz. every 6 ues, 17 to 18 6 1° 402, every 3 urs. i9 to 20. 1 Bow every 5 i It is not alone sufficient to give the infant milk whic! the mothe: solutely n of germs, has be: 1 made as nearly hike ible, but it is aiso ab- that the same be free on such milk only a chiid for n thrive, while milk which is but a trijle decomposed produces serious sickness and even death, as can be observed in ever so man »s during the hot summer season. Decomposition of milk is caused by mi- ercorganisms which get into it from the air. As they are more numerous and multiply faster in summer than in winter, it is ex- tremely difficult to keep the milk in sood condition during the heated term, and thus protect the infants against sickness and death. The point in question, therefore, is how to make and keep milk free from germs. The absolute cleanliness is nowhere ne- cessitated move than in the feeding of the babies. The slightest milk fake, hardly visible to the naked eye, which is so easi- ly overiooked in cleaning bottles, may pos- sibly contain the dangerous bacteriae, in- fect the next filling of the bottle and prove fatal to the child. The most imporiant points to be ooserved in feeding the infants with cow milk may be € J in this brief resume: t and ¢ ‘apest substitrte k is good, fresh cow milk y after the milk h id be boiled accordiy other kystem of li or i, after boiling the milk it should be and kept, in a cool room, below : in a’ refrigerator or ive-vox if p Fourth, where tht is\fmpossible, the mille should be boiled agin after twelve hours. fth, any milk ining in the be feeding the Child should be th afte away. Sixth, the bottles should be clenned very carefully and immediately atter taney have been emptied, for gjeapliness is one of the chief requirements of siicces: Sees! BOUGHT TO ‘1 wn A Young White Boy Purchased by In- dians for Their Future Ruler. From the Kansas City a At Oukinsh inlet, onthe west coast of Vancouver Island, betyeen Kyuquoit’ and Cape Scott, Arthur Bell{pger, a seven-year- old white boy, has beerrpurcl.ased hy Chief Titlouse of the Chucklesett tribe for $90 cash, to be reared so that he may become the head and founder of a new and strong Chucklesctt nation. The lad was seen 2y a number of sealing captains who went to the west coast to sign Indian hunters, tat tooed, painted and garbed in the costume of the, Young brave and enthroned in the chief's house at Oukinsh, Chief Titlouse explained that his tribe was rapidly becoming extinct, and it woul be the boy’s great mission to avert this fate. He would, the Indians promised, he well cared for and afowed to want’ for nothing. Already twenty wives had beer selected for him—the number ellowed to the greatest chiefs, ‘The boy told the captains that he had been sold by a man claiming to be his father, but he is believed to have been kid- naped from Seattle. He says his name 1s Arthur. He is terror stricken among the Indians, who are the lowest type of ato- rigines on tf Pacific coast. The provincial police are taking Steps to rescue the lad. A Superb Dianer Dres it, 1s still worn, but under that price 1s taboned. Cheap ‘moire is about the shod- diest material in the market, Not much trimming is used on any of the gown skirts, elther silk or wool, but bodices are quite ‘covered with lace and passe! and frills, and the sleeves—langu: this chronicler to describe them! is the term applied to the enormous things by one fashion writer, but “amplified de- formities” would better suit the present designs. Of course, a vulgarized fashion will soon go out, and, though the leg-o'- muttons kept within’ bounds are really pretty, they can't long stand the pressure of useless material. Now, for a daring dinner gown, here is something superb. It is silver-flowered A Calling G lavender satin, made with ¢ skirt five yards around, ‘the fullness caught in the hack in five godet plaity At the foot is a pretty knotte angement. of violet vel- Vet, and the sleeves are of the velvet, with a futile of luce to fall over the arm. wn. reet Dress. cut neck is a stiff bretelle in adjustment of bow of the vio- to hide the there after of tiny 1 of gold. Around the low of the satin with a p lace, caught with a larg let vely About the throat, inevitable wrinkles that come thirty-five, will be worn five ro amethists set in a flexible bai Mrs. Stevenson usually wears gowns of this order, for she has ¢ uisitely white smooth shoulders and neck, but she does not have to tie things around her throat, for there are no wrinkles to hide, ‘A walking dress that is neat and stylish is nvade of green cloth flecked with a woolly dot in red. It has the full peplum waist, with narrow border of black astrakhan. The hat is green felt with astrakhan and cerise garniture. A calling gown of dark brown taffeta has a shimmer of green with a yellow fleck on the surface, and is made with skirt garniture and revers of rich green velvet. The buttons are tiny globes of gold, such as Mrs. Ch land wears on a green cloth gown, which is extremely be- coming to her. The hat is a large green velvet with lace and velvet garniture and a touch of red in the feathery pompon. EGE A New Reform Movement in Berlin. From the London Society. A most curious club has just been formed in a sumptuous hotel in the Domhof-Platz at Berlin, Its title is a poem, “Der Anti- handenindiehosenhaschenhallenverein.” Oh, dear, what a word, and one with so many meanings! ‘fo explain its, meaning, it is a club whose mission is to correct those peo- ple who have the bad habit of putting thei! ands in their trousers’ pockets. The mem- bers of this would-be well-bred club are very numerous, and all those members of it seen with their hands in the pockets of their nether garments have to pay five pfennige (one halfpenny) for the first time, and one mark (one shilling) for the second offense. As t> those who waik about the streets except with open hands, they are strongly reproved by the members of the club, and if incorrigible are turned out, Word comes from all quarters that and most satisfactory dye for tolor: fs Buckingbac neatest THE VANITY OF MEN, | ] A Woman Says They Exceed the Wo- men in That Quality. From the New York Sun. “It’s all very well for you’men to go talking about woman's vanity,” said a young woman of observation, “but it has been my experience to find that men are just as vain as women. Indeed, I don’t know If I should be guilty of a very great deflection from the perpendicular of verac- ity If 1 were to say that men are more vain than women, and that they have been raising ail this hue and cry about ‘woman's besetting sin’ so that they may escape from too marked attention themselves. That's a very old thiefis trick, you know. “Women do spend a great deal of time fixing themselves, I admit. I know I do, and I sometimes feel ashamed of myself for it. But when I find that this is the age of the delfication of the body, under the flimsy preaching of mens sana in corpore sano, and that men require their women folks to be well groomed from the toenails to the tips of the hair, why, of course, I give in. But if all of ‘this is vanity—and I'm sure that a good deal of it is vexation of spirit—then you fellows are right in the same boat with the rest of us—there now. “For what, pray, is there in the grand art of titivating which we do that you don’t do. You fellows are manicured and pedicured and cuticured, and I don't know what else. You bathe every day, and quite right, too, and take a Turkish. bath when- ever you feel like it. You give up time either to shave yourselves or to be shaved, and you rush away to the biurber iim- mediately you see a straggling. hair gi your neck. You have your mustach’s curled, and Jack tells me that he knows of one fellow who sleeps with his done up in pads; you fiddle over your hair and culti- vate long locks, little curls, the slick or the poetic, according to your temperament or profession. You keep the run of new neck- wear, and read up everything that is said about collars and cuffs. You raise the goatest fuss if your shirts don’t set exact- ly right, and talk like a lot of female owls about the proper cut for a vest. You spend hours picking out clothes, and carry sam- ples of the goods around to show your friends. You get a fit of heart-sickness 'f your trousers are not properly creased onc a week, and the exact shape of the toe» of your shoes is a serious matter. “But, you say, all this is simply follow- ing and keeping in with the fashions and rules of health. Exactly, and that is what we giris do. But it's all vanity, just so many exhibitions of vanity. And if you want to come down to a narrower de! and personal appearance, I shall again suy that that’s exactly what I mean, and what it all means. It’s part and parcel of the same small feeling that leads men to make believe they're looking at t!. igs In the store windows when they’re rv .!ly stealing a glimpse in the mirror at .. - back to see how they look. Pray, what do people put mirrors in the hat stands which are in- tended to holf men's things for if it was not that they knew the fellows would want to gee if they had rumpled their dear hair in taking off their hats? Why, you men are always looking at yourselves and preening yourselves like a lot of great birds. “Just let me give you a case in point. Law night I went to dinner with a fellow that I really had been thinking quite de- cently about. I was doing my best to be pleasant, and thought I was succeeding admirably, for he was one perpetual smilz. Surely, I thought, I must be vastly enter taining, when, all at once, I found out the dreadful truth. He was holding one of the polished plated knives in his hand, so, and was grinning at the reflection of himself in it all the time. I'd like to know the wo- man that could beat that as an exhibition of vanity. cee CONTRARY LOCOMOTIVES. Some of Them, at Least, Scem Full of Whims and Perversities. From the Philadelphia Inquirer. That locomotives are freaky creatures and deserve classification as “she"—for no one ever heard of an engineer calling his machine anything else—is attested by Will- iam H. Crawford, chief of the constructing engineers’ corps of the Baldwin works, who is now on his way to Japan to super- intend the erection of a consignment of locomotives intended for a road operated by the government. “It is not an uncommon expression,” said Chief Crawford, “to hear that such and such a thing works with the regularity of & machine, and one is not surprised when such a comparison is made, for machines are supposed to work with mathematical regularity, and never to vary from the speed or action to which they are set. The locomotive, though, is a striking exception to this rule. It seems decidedly opposed at times to a monotonously perfect per- formance of its work, and to rid itself of the depressing effect of sameness it in- dulges in the most fanciful and inexplic: ble freaks, driving its master into bewild ing wonder, To attempt to tell you all its curious ways would be as great an under- taRing as to tell why a woman does thus and so. in this respect there is a great sim- ilarity between locomotives and wome ‘No one ever heard of an engineer speaking of his machine as ‘he,’ and no one ever will, unless it becomes mcre submissive to rea~ son or less inclined to act according to its own whims and caprices. For this reason an engineer must know his engine before he can manage it with any skill at all. He cannot mounta cab in which he has never t before, aml obtain good work. -He must become familiar with its habits and ways, and whenever he changes engines he has to begin all over again. Engimeers do not like to go-out on any other engine. They never gain complete mestery over any, but approach it nearer when they have been on one tor some time, “This seems strange, in view of the fact that there are so few levers to be con- trolled to manage a locomotive. The only parts of the machine necessary to be touch- ed to move the engine forward, back it or bring It to a stop is the throttle, the re- verse lever and thesair brake. The throttle is the controller of the main valve, which mits or-shuts off steam to the cylinder. The reverse lever runs over a semi-circular bar of tron, in which there are several notches. When this lever is thrown open the engine will move forward. To reverse it the reverse lever is thrown backward. The only other lever necessary to be used governs the air brakes. “Like horses, engines seem to know who reins, An engineer on an engine not his own Is at an utter loss what to do if it begins playing tricks, one of the most common. of which is running away. The F will get out of the cab, leaving Hine standing quietly and submis- sively a¥ can be, when of a sudden it starts along the track at top speed, and generally keeps on running until steam is exhausted, unless it runs into another train and is brought to a sudden stop. Just why en- gines dg :his is a mystery. How the throt- tle opens ‘itself or how it can run with the throttle closed is beyond the knowledge of engineers? but they do it, and sometimes play ha¥oe, too. “Another = t is foaming. Without warning, the water in the boiler will be- gin to foam, and instead of generating steam will bubble like a tea kettle. This can he remedied, though, by taking in a new supply of water. It is an old trick for discharged employes and during strikes to have a piece of soap dropped into the boller to prog this effect. Often, too, it will go ‘lame.’ This happens when the eccen- tric is slipped or It does not ‘cough’ prop- rly. The eccentrics work on the axle of the main driver, and often the outer ring will slip and fall on the axle. As they work thé steam chost, the supply is cut off when one of them slips, and the en- gine comes to a standstill. ‘Coughing’ is not the result of a ccld, but ts the dis- charge of the steam from the cylinder after it has been used. There ought to be four ‘coughs’ to every revolution of the driving wheels, but when the valves choke it will ‘cough’ only once or twice, and the relief is a large dose of oil. “One of the oddest freaks of an engine ‘ jumping. Ido not mean to tell of the won- derful tales of engines leaping across canons when bridges were gone, but fre- quently, when running at a high rate of | speed. if some small obstruction fs met on the track, the engine will jump ten or twelve inches and drop squarely on the rails again. These are a few of the ail- ments a locomotive is subject to, and they begin @s soon as it leaves the shop and inue until it s consigned to the junk soe Symbolical. From the Pittsburg Bulletin. Susie—“Oh, dear! I want to work some- thing lovely in embroidery for Jack, and I can’t think of a subject. He's a foot ball crank, you know.” Katie—“T'll_ tell you what to indicate in the design. Put in a big chrysanthomum floating in a sea of mud. And in the back. ground you might work in @ case of surgti- cal instruments.’ tion and say that you mean pride of person” Magazine FOR JANUARY NOW READY 15 Cents Containing an extraordinary document by A Soldier of Napoleon {an officer of the famous Grenadiers), giving a vivid description of how the Consular Guard, 500 in number, at a critical moment in the Battle of Marengo withstood the shock of the entire Austrian Army, helping to win one of Napolzon's most import ant victories, at his greatest as Law-giver Napoleon and Emperor, by Miss Tare bell, with 23 portraits and ‘pictures, Rudyard Kipling 22° 's"; illustrations by Pape Conan Doyle friuse Saute sory. Miustrated, Miss Harraden 5% "Nih% An autobiographical , with portrait ot Riss Harraden, D. L. Moody 4,327,0f.2's, see" and character, by Prof. Henry Drummbnd Second Paper. Asu of his Dr. Parkhurst Ascrey ots municipal reform And many other articles and stories, S S McCLURE, Ltd. 3°12" Reve citys “GOWNS FOR GIRL: Now Mothers Can Dress Their Chil- dren-in Style and Comfort. It seems to be generally understood that in making children’s dresses “the simplest way is the best,” frills and furbelows being anything but a characteristic feature of gowns worn by girls whose ages range from nine to fifteen yeags. After that time the young lady generally deveiops very de- cided opinions of her own on the subject. In selecting materials, soft, warm colors should be given preference, the novelty suitings being always pretty and satisfac- tory, especially when combined with con trasting velvet. The accompanying sketch shows an ex- tremely stylish little gown, in which the two materials are displayed to great ad- vantage, golden brown suiting, with tiny figures worked in crimson, being used in | conjunction with a deep brown velvet yoke, epaulettes, girdle, &e. The blouse waist is regarded with the same favor it enjoyed last season, but any possible careless appearance is effectually avoided by means of the deep, well-fitted girdle (stoutly boned in every seam to pre- vent wrinkles), which is nearly always worn, Sleeves are still generously propor- tioned, and are finished below the elbow with a dainty frill of lace or fine lawn. Skirts slightly full all around are more used than the gored ones, which prevailed last winter, and are usually finished about the lower edge with a band of whatever trimming Is used for the bodice. Picturesque effects should alwayr be aimed for. An art gown does not necessarily mean an elaborate one. and a little careful study will bring about such delightful results that the mother will feel more than repaid for the extra time ex- pended. Ancther pretty. gown has the bodice cut in but two pi.ces—front and back—and is completely depondent upon the velvet col- lar and girdle for its decoration. Both are cut after an entirely new model, and give a decidedly artistic appearance to what would otherwise be the plainest of plain little frocks. Nearly all the children's gowns are but- toned down the back, as the effect most desjred is that of girlishness. —_——_. Smoke and Flame. From the Chicago Inter-Ovcan, “Did you ever see an active volcate?*- “Well, I guess you might call It that; 1 took home a ‘piece of silk that didn’t match.” and from all such disfiurements and biemishes, follows the use of thie Carle bad Sprude! Salt. It clears and fresh- ens the skin won- derfully —t akes away that dull and noitied look that comes from stomach derangements. Even inchronic and stubborn cases of skin disorders, like eczema, it te the prescribed remedy. “The blood, the liver, the ‘stomach, » the kidneys—ail are acted upon power- S fully bot naturally by the Carlsbad Sprudel Salt, You get the same benefit, the same cure, the same feeling of lght- ness and clearness all through your system, as if you were at Carlsbad itself. Beware of the tuany imitetions sold as “im- proved” or “artificial” Carlsbad Salt. Those are only mixtures of Seidiitz Powder and commow Glauber Salt, sold by unscrupulous dealers for the larger profit they yield. Insist upon the genuine tmported, natural Carls- bad Sprudel Salt, which 1s evaporated from the Sprudel Springs at Carlsbad. and bears the seal of the city and the signacure of “EISNER & MENDELSON CO., Sole Agents, New York,” om every bottle.