Evening Star Newspaper, January 19, 1895, Page 15

THE PRADO, HAVANA. ALL VERY FOREIGN Some Impressions of an American Visitor in Havana. THE CHARM OF THE SOPT ATMOSPHERE The Picturesque Features of the Out-of-Door Life. jena. arama THE CUBAN HORSE —_»—__— ening Star. . January 11, 1895. O AN AMERICAN leaving the north in midwinter Cuba seems a land of en- chantment. A de- lightful winter cli- mate, a briliiant ver- dure, tropical scen- ery, picturesque cities and people, all combine to give <> rare charm to the isiand. Here the ocean seems Muer, the sky fairer and elds greener than clsewhere; fer all throvgh the mediim of a marv eusly clear atmosphere. An artist fairly fevels in the wonderful color eff: Ha- vana would be one of the dingiest cities In the world in any other light than that of whe B se Cuba, but here the = paint of a Gilap- Pidated house fro the wea stones and the crumbling plaster seem to take on new and brilliart tints. Even the Narrow, dirty streets s m to get glory from the light. When to this ar? a i e pl , Pictureaque effects pri @uced by the old castle-like forts that grown eminences about the city, the wa fers of the gulf, the-many colors used in Poultry Seller. inting houses, tne gray old churches, the fren architecture and the tops of palm showing themselves here and there Bhbove the roofs, one would have to be de- Wotd altogether of sentiment not to find — in Havana and Cuba. The city of lavana is quite as strange to an Amert- can’s eyes as any city of the old world. fhis is true also of the other cities of the isiand, none of them is so interesting fs Havana. The houses are foreign to an ‘American; the streets, tho customs of the People, barrow, many of them mere alleys, and the Bidewalks in most of them not more than }% foot or eighteen inches In width. Along these streets is a st umble of dwell- {ngs, shops, Usually the dings are not more than one or two} tories in height. The walls are le thick, protection against cyclones and | fartha’ 2 roofs are flat. Many | af the into gardens, and all of them are used for laundry purposes and ‘or family gatherings on warm evenings. he walls ed up so as to form a coping arou roof, making it a safe ren. There are no k yards in Havana. The houses have inner coirts and the roofs for airing pla m the roof the little bo: nd there in the twilight nily will prome: whils shis cigar. From the Outside. here are three or four wide avenues in the newer part of the city. The Prado, a les bis father of the f: he smc beulevard as wide nearly as Pennsylvania | avenue, extends about a mile from a square ‘mown as the Campo del Marte to the shores of the gulf near the entrance to the harbor. On this are located the principal theaters and hotels, and many residences Of the better class. On it, or near it, also, are found the large and fine establishments f the clubs, of which Havana has many, s one result of its lack of domestic life. nother wide avenue extending tn another frection to the outskirts of the city 1s the venue Tacon, which is boulevarded, and on which aro located many fine houses, in- €luding the captain general's summer pal- ace. The great business streets of the c e narrow alleys, co narrow that during 9 middis of the day awnings are stretch- td across the street from store to store. ‘The exterior of the houses {s covered with ooth plaster, and painted drab, blue, reen, or any color that may please the Owner. Tho ordinary one-story dwelling Matanzas. fas a doorway that extends from the ground nearly to the top. with wooden doors that look as though made for the bastile. They are thick and ded with bolts. In these doors another mmon size ts cut. This is for ordinary ere are no door bells, but each door Beside the door is a from the v has a brass knocker. wide window, re: ing also ground nearly to the roof. There is no glass In the window—in fact, window glass a thing almost unknown in the dwelling i 3 of Havana. The window looks like @ cage. Strong iron bars extend from top to bottom and from side to side. Inside are wooden shutters, which can be closed qwhen either the sun or the rain make !t de- Birable. The front room is the parlor, and, of course, in the small houses—the homes are all strange. The streets are | This is fitted | of the poor—the general living room. Where it is the parlor there will be curtains for the window, and inside one can see a stiff- looking row of chairs arranged along the wall or in the middle of the room. In the ordinary house this is usually all the fur- niture to be seen. The better houses will have two, and even three, of the immense cage-like' windows. The door will open upon a wide airy hallway, which will lead into the patio. The patio is a court or yard in the center of the house. The apart- ments are arranged around it. Sometimes there is a fountain or pretty garden in this court abeve the roof. ed o hor and often a tree which lifts its hea Sometimes a house arrang- this plan Is a sort of tenement and the patio is a place for slops, hish of all kinds, and the gathering of scolding women and dirty children. The A Narrow Street and Cathedral. better houses have floors of tiles or marble, i on some streets have an Ionic colon- in front. Those that rise to the height » stories have a little gallery on the | second floor, around the inner court. One im or is apt to have is in Hay s that the slums of the city. He will to be shown the better streets. All of In all of them one and then e of poverty Jor, respecta- are dir unple the streets bility and v Cafes are live evervwhere. oatdeors. The fronts bazaars are all open and the cafes seem The Havanese of shops and | to be on the street. At night the streets are full of life. The cafes ara crowded and the parks in tho center of the city thronged wita proraenaders. One sees a thousand strange sights in the streets, besides the houses, that seem so odd to an American. Billetarios or lot- tery ticket peddlers will accost you at every turn, begging you to buy a piece of a ticket. The market men from the coun- try come into town with pack horses or donkeys completely hidden under great | loads of fodder, of pigs or chickens, which | are suspended in bunches over the horse's | back, cr of fruit and vegetables. Huge carts drawn by four oxen do the | draying around the wharves. Everywhere the porters and drivers wear the fiat red, blue or white Austrian caps, which add much to their picturesque appearance. | There is a tendency to gatdiness ef color in the dress of all classes, but especially ~o | The Dairy on Legs. | among the negresses, who wear brilliant yellow or red dresses, with bandannas around their necks or over their heads. The negress has a peculiar old-fashion way of dressing her hair with “rats,” so as to make puifs of wool on each side of Many of them, and especially the old ones, go through the strests puff- | ing cigars. The volante, the old-fashioned | Cuban carriage, 1s no Ionger seen in Ha- | vana, though it Is still used in some d tricts where the roads are very rough. | its pla | toria, n usually by a very sorry look- ing specimen of a Cuban horse. There are three or four thousand such vehicles moving restlessly up and down the streets. The established fare to any point within the city is one peseta or 20 cents. Com- | pared with prices of other things in Ha- | vana this 1s ridiculousiy cheap. Every | one rides in them, from the bootblack to the millionaire. Ride in Carriages. You will see washwomen carrying their week's wash to or from home in a victoria. The horse cars, which are very shabby, are drawn by three horses, one of them be- ing hitched in front as a lead horse. An- other odd sight frequently seen in the streets is a train of from ten to twenty horses, the halter of the second being tied to the tail of the first, and so on. At a point on the water side of the city horses are taken for a bath in the sea. When the sea 1s running high this is an interesting sight. ‘he man in charge of the horses strips down to one garment, and orders the lead horse into the water; the others, tied nose and tail, meekly follow. When they get into the breakers the line of horses will rise and fall with the wave, and the horses will plunge about in a lively fashion. ‘There are always scores of horses being bathed in this way in the rocky inlets near the Hospital of St. Lazara. The ‘eat numbers of soldiers every- where ms queer to Americans. Many of those that appear at frst sight to be soldiers are policemen or metnbers of the civil guard. Their uniform is much the same as that of the soldier. The soldier wears a@ blue linen suit and either a soldier cap or a straw hat with a rosetted cock- ade. ‘Chetr regiments and the branch of the service to which they belong is Indi- cated by the color of the collars and cuffs. Some are red, some green, some black, and some blue. I'he collar «nd cuffs are de- tachable, and can be removed when the coat fs sent to the laundry. At night in the neighborhood of the opera houses ‘cne will see cavalrymen on guard in the street. The people and the authorities make much of the opera, and no vehicles are allowed to pass near enough the opera house to possibly interfere with the full enjoyment of the music. In *he harvor are hundreds of little boats, propelled by salls and cars, that carry passengers to and from vessels or on expeditions around the bay. They have a shelter over the stern, an awning supported by bamboo rods bent over, bow- shape, from thwart to thwart. No vessels | except Spanish vessels land at the docks, | so these boatmen do mucn business taking travelers to and from the boat iandings. One of the strangest sights {s a Havana milkman on his rounds in the morning. He brings the milk to the door in a natural state—that 1s, in the cow. Fle stops at the deor, kneels by the cow, extracts the needed amount of milk in the usual fash- ion, and delivers it to the servant, foaming and unstrained. A milkman usually has a drove of several cows. The method insures unadulterated and fresh milk. H. P. G. In in Havana has come a little vic- BABOO’S PIRATES BY ROUNSEVILLE WILDMAN, LATE U. 8. COH- SUL AT SINGAPORE. —__+—_— (Copyright, 1895, by Rounseville Wildman.) ‘There was a scuffle in the outer office, and a thin piping voice was calling down all the curses of the Koran on the heads of my great top-heavy Hindoo guards. “Sons of dogs,” I heard in the most with: ering contempt. “I will see the Tuan con- sul. Know he is my father, pigs!” A tall sikh, with his great red turban awry and bis brown Kaki uniform torn and sciled, pushed through the bamboo chicks and into my presencé. He was dragging a little bit of naked humanity by the folds of its faded cotton sarong. The powerful soldier was hot and flushed and a little stream of blood trickling from his finger tips showed where they had come in contact with his captive’s teeth. It was as though an elephant had been worried by a pariah cur. “Your excellency,” he said, and gasping for breath. “It is Baboo, the Hariman Anak!” Baboo wrenched from the guard’s grasp and glided up to my desk. The back of his epen palm went to his forehead and his big brown eyes looked appealingly up irto mine. “What ts it, tiger child?’ I asked, be- stowing on him the title the Malays of Kampong Glam had given him as a per- petual reminder of his famous adventure. Dimples came into either tear-stained cheek. He smoothed out the rents in his small sarong and without deigning to notice his late captor said in a soft, sing- song voice: “Tuan consul, Baboo want to go with the heaven born to Pahang. Baboo six years old—can fight pirates like Aboo Din, the father. May Mohamet make Tuan as odorous as musk!” “You are a boaster before Allah, Baboo,” I said smiling. Baboo dropped his head in perfectly sim- ulated contrition. “I have thought much, Tuan.” News had come to me that an American merchant ship had been wrecked near the mouth of the Pahang river and that the Malays, who were at the time in revolt against the English resident, had taken possession of its cargo of petroleum and made prisoners of the crew. I had esked the colonial governor for a guard of five sikhs and a launch that I maight steam up the coast and investigate the alleged outrage before appealing of- ficially to the British government. Of course Baboo went, much to the dis- gust of Aboo Din, the syce. I never was able to refuse the little fel- low anything and I knew if I left him be- hind he would be revenged by running away. I had vowed again and again that Baboo should stay lost the next time he indulged in his periodical vanishing acts, but each time when night came Abvo Din, the syce, and Fatima, the mother, crept pathetically along the veranda to where I was smok- ing and steeling my heart against the little rascal I would snatch up my cork helmet and spring into my cart which Aboo Din had kept waiting inside the sta- bles for the moment when I would relent. Since Baboo had become a hero and earned the appellation of the Hariman Anak his vanity directed his footsteps toward Kampong Glam, the Malay quar- ter of Singapore. Here he was generally to be found, seated on a richly hued Indian salaaming rug, with his feet drawn up under him, amid a circle of admiring shopkeepers, syces, Kebuns and fishermen, narrating for the hundredth time how he had been caught by a tiger, carried through the jungle on its back until he came to a great banyan tree, into which he nad crawled while the tiger stept, how a Sladang cane out of the lagoon and killed the tiger, and how Tuan and Aboo Din, the father, had found him and kissed him many times. Often he enlarzed on the story and re- peated long conversations that he had had with the tiger while they were journeying through the jungle. A brass lamp hung above his head, in which the cocoanut oil sputtered and burned and cast a fitful half-light about the box- like stall. Only the eager faces of the ilsteners stood out clear and distinct against the shadowy background of tapestries from Madras and Bokhara, soft rich rugs from Afghanistan and Persia, curiously wrought finger bowls of brass and copper from Deh and Siam, and piles of cunningly painted sarongs from Java. Close against a naked fisherman sat the owner of the bazaar, in tall conical silk plaited hat and flowing robes, ministering to the wants of the little actor, as the soft monotonous voice paused for a brief in- stant for the tiny cups of black coffee. I never had the heart to interrupt him in the midst of one of these recitals, but would stand respectfully without the circle of light until he had finished the last sen- tence. He was rot frightened when I kicked the squatting natives right and left, and he did not forget to arise and touch the back of his open palm to his forehead, with a calm, reverent: “‘Tabek, Tuan” (Greeting, My Lord). So Baboo went with us to fight pirates. He unrolled his mat out on the bow, where every dash of warm salt water wet his brown skin, and where he could watch the flying fish dash across our way. He was very quiet during the two days of our trip, as though he was fully conscious of the heavy responsibility that rested upon his young shoulders. I had called him a boaster and it had cut him to the quick. We found the wreck of the Bunker Hill on a sunken coral reef near the mouth of the Pahang river, but every vestige of her cargo @nd stores was gone, even to the glass in her cabin windows and the brasses on her rails. We worked In along the shore and kept a Icokout for camps or signals, but found none. I decided to go up the river as far as pos- sible in the launch, in hope of coming across some trace of the missing crew, al- though | was satisfied that they had been captured by the noted rebel chief, the Orang Kayah of Semantan, and were being held for ransom. It was late in the afternoon when we en- tered the mouth of the Sungie Pahang. Aboo Din advised a delay until the next morning. “The Orang Kayah’s Malays are pirates, Tuan,” he said, with a sinister shrug of his bare shoulders; “he has many men and swift prans; the Dutch at Rio have soid them guns and they have thelr krisses— they are cowards in the day I smiled at the syre’s fears. I knew that the days of piracy in the Straits of Malacca, except for an occasional outbreak of high-sea petty larceny on a Chinese lumber junk or a native trader’s tongkang, were past, and I did not believe that the rebels would have the hardihood to attack, day or night, a boat, however unprotected, bearing the American flag. For an hour or more we ran along be- tween the mangrove-bound shores, up a swiftly flowing muddy current. The great tangled roots of these trees stood up out of the water like a freiwork of lace, and the interwoven branches above our heads shut out the glassy glare of the sun. We pushed on until the dim twilight faded out and only a phosphorescent glow on the water remained to reveal the snags that marked our course. The launch was anchored for the night close under the bank, where the maze of mangroves were beginning to give place to the solid ground and the jungle. Myriads of fireflies settled down on us and hung from the low limbs of the over- hanging trees, relieving the hot, murky darkness with their thousands of throbbing ‘SFrom time to th ‘rom time to time a crocodile in the water as he slid heavily aoe clayey bank at the bow. in the trees and rubber vinds all about us a colony of long-armed wah wah monkeys whistled and chattered, and farther away the sharp, rasping note of a cicada kept up a continuous protest at our invasion. At intervals the long, quivering yeil of a tiger frightened the garrulous monkeys in- to silence and made us peer apprehensively teward the impenetrable blackness of the jungle. Aboo Din came to me as I was arranging my mosquito curtains for the night. He was casting quick, timid glances over his shoulder as he talked. - “Tuan, I no like this place. Too close bank. Ten boat lengths down stream bet. ter. Baboo swear by Allah he see faces be- hind trees—once, twice—Baboo good eyes.” I shook off the uncanny feeling that the place was beginning to cast over me, and turned fiercely on the faithful Aboo Din. He slunk away with a low salaam, mut- tering something about the Heaven Born being allwise, and later I saw him in deep cotiverse with his first-born under a palm- tched cadanj on the bow. = ‘was half inclined to.take Aboo Din’s ad- vice and drop down the stream. Then it ¢cecurred to me that I-might better face an imaginary foe than the whirlpool and sunk- en snags of the Pahang. I posted sentinels fore and aft and lay down and closed my eyes to the legion of fireflies that made the night luminous, and my ears to the low musical chant that arose fitfully from ameng my Malay serv- ants on the stern. The Sikhs were big, massive fellows, fully six feet tall, with téwering red turbans that accentuated their height fully a foot. They were regular artillerymen from Fort Canning, and had geen service all over India. of ‘They had not been in Singapore long enough to become acquainted with the Malay language or character, but they knew their duty and I trusted to their mil- itary training rather than to my Malay’s superior knowledge for our safety during the night. I found out later that the cunning in Baboo’s small brown finger was worth all the precision and drill in the Sikh ser- geant’s great body. I fell asleep at last, Iulled by the tenderly crooned promises of the Koran and the drowsy intermittent prattle of the monkeys among the varnished leaves above. The night was intensely hot, not a breath of air could stir within our living cavern and the cooling moisture which always comes with n'ghtfall on the equator was lapped up by the thirsty fronds above our heads, so that I had not slept many hours before I awoke dripping with perspiration, and faint. There was an impression in my mind that I had been awakened by the falling of glass. The Sikh saluted silently as I stepped out on the deck. It lacked some hours of daylight and there was nothing to do but go back to my bed, vowing never again to camp for the night along the steaming shores of a -jungle-covered stream. . I slept but indifferently—I missed the cooling swish of the punkah, and all through my dreams the crackle and break- ing of glass seemed to mingle with the in- sistent buzz of the tiger gnats. Baboo's diminutive form kept flitting be- tween me and the fireflies. The first half lights of morning were struggling down through the green canopy above when I was brought to my feet by the discharge of a Winchester and a long shrill cry of fright and pain. ei Before I could disentangle myself from the meshes of the mosquito net, I could see dimly a dozen naked forms drop lightly I Slowly Cocked My Revolver. onto the deck from. the obscurity of the bank, followed in each case by a long piercing scream of pain. 1 snatched up my revolver and rushed out onto the deck in my bare feet. Some one grasped. me by the shoulders and shouted: “Jaga baik, balk, Tuan (Be careful, Tuan) pirates!” I recognized Aboo Din’s voice and I checked myself just as my feet came in contact with a broken beer bottle. The entire surface of the little deck was strewn with glittering star-shaped points that corresponded with the fragment be- fore me. I had not a moment ta investigate, how- ever, for in the gloom, where the bow of the launch touched the foliage-meshed bank, a scene of wild confusion was taking lace. P'Shadowy forms were leaping, one after another, from the branches above onto the deck. I’ slowly cocked my revolver, doubt- ing my senses, for each time one of the In- vaders reached the deck he sprang into the air with the long thrilling ery of pain that had awakened me, and with another bound was on the bulwarks and over the side of the launch clinging to the railing. With each cry Baboo's mocking voice came out shrill and exultant from behind a pile of life-preservers. “‘O, Allah, judge the dogs. They would kris the great ‘Tuan as he slept—tha pariahs—but they forgot so mean a thing as Baboo!” The smell of warm blood filled the air and a low snarl among the rubber vines revealed the presence of a tiger. I felt Aboo Din’s hand tremble on my shoulder. The five Sikhs were drawn up in battle array before the cabin door waiting for the word of command. I glanced at them and hesitated. “Tid ‘apa, Tuan,” (never mind) Aboo Din whispered with a proud ring in his voice. “Raboo blow Orang Kayah’s men away with the breath of his mouth.” As he spoke the branches above the bow were thrust aside and a dark form hung The Tiger Child Glided From Behind the Boxes. for an instant, as though in doubt, then shot straight down on to the corrugated surface of the deck. As before a shrick of agony heralded the descent, followed by» Baboo’s- laugh, then the dim shape sprang wildly upon the bul- wark, lost its hold, and went over with a great splash among: thersnake-like laby- rinth of mangreve roets. There was: the rushing: of many heavy forms through the red mud, a snapping of great jaws,and there was;no mistaking the almost mortal cry that arose from out the darkness. 2 I had often heard it when paddling softly up one ef the wild Maiayan rivers. It was the death cry of-a wah wah mon- key, facing the cruel jaws of a crocodile. I plunged my fingers into my ears to smother the sound.;I understood it all now. Baboo's pirates, the dreaded Orang Kayah’s rebels, were the troop of monkeys we had heard the night before in the tam- bussa trees. aboo,”” I shoute does this all mean The tiger-child glided from behind the protecting pile and came close up to my legs. “Tuan,” he whimpered, “Baboo see many faces behind trees. »Baboo ‘fraid tor ‘Luan— Tuan great ani good—save Baboo from tiger—Baboo break up all glass bottles—old bottles—Tuan no want old bottles—Baboo and Aboo Din, .the father, put them on deck, so when Orang Kayah’s men come out of the jungle and drop from trees onto deck they cut their feet on glass. Baboo is through talking—Tuan no whip Baboo!” There was the pathetic little quaver in his voice that I knew so well. . “But they were monkeys. Baboo, pirates.” Bahboo shrugged hig brown shoulders and kept his eyes on my feet. “Allah is good!” he muttered. Allah was good, they might have been pirates. The snarl of the tiger was growing more insistent and near. I gave the order and the boat backed out into mid-stream, As the sun was reducing the gloom of the sylvan tunnel to a translucent twilight we “come here! What not lancholia, and kindred ailments, whether resulting from over anxiety, overwork or study, or from (eee eee excesses, treated asa ore » with great success, ney Staff _of Soosalicts attached to the Invalids’ Hotel and Surgical Institute at pata N.Y. ages examinations not [ways necessary. y cases are success- fully treated at a distance. ASTHM A. A new and wonderfully successful treatment has been discovered for Asthma and Hay Fever, which can be sent by Mail or Express. __ It is not simply a palliative but a radical cure. For pamphlets, question blanks, refer- ences and particule in relation to any of the above mentioned diseases, address, World's Dispens- Main Street, floated down the swift current toward the ocean. I had given up all hope of finding the shipwrecked men and decided to®ask the government to send a gunboat to demand their release. ‘As the bow of the launch passed the wreck of the Bunker Hill and responded to tho long even swell of the Pacific, Baboo beckoned sheepishly to Aboo Din and to- gether they swept all trace of his adven- ture into the green waters. Among the souvenirs of my sojourn in Golden Chersonese is a bit of amber col- ored glass bearing the world-renowned name of a Longion brewer. There is a dark stain on one side of it that came from the hairy foot of one of Baboo’s “pi- rates.”” —_—. WHY IR RAILS “CREEP.” of a Well-Known Tendency. An Explanation Natural From the Chicago" ‘Times. Unless there are counteracting influences the natural tendency of rails is to “creep” downward, obeying the well-known laws of gravity. If, however, the grade be too slight to give much effect to this law, and, in fact, so slight as to require the use of steam in the handling of descending trains, this natural tendency may be minimized, and, irdeed, cvercome and reversed by @ constant draught of Icads in the direction of its descent. Heavy loads pulling con- stantly in one direction have a tendency to drive the. rail in the opposite direction. Should it be necessary, however, to apply the brakes, the rail is driven in the direc- tion of the moving train. On a perfectly level track the rail almost invariably “creeps” in the oppcsite direction from the moyernent of the heaviest and most con- stant traffic, except at points where it is customary to shut off and apply the brakes, at which the “creep” is in the same direc- tion. On roads having grades which change abruptly from ascending to descending grades over the crown of a hill it often happens that the rails “creep” up grade on both s des of the crown, and this is especial- ly true where long, heavy trains are run, as the keavy puliing of the engine after it has passed the crown going down grade causes it to drive the rail upward on the one side, while the rear of the train has somewhat the tendency to pull, or, at st, to hold the rail on the opposite ascent, One rail often “creeps’’ faster than the other; t is not confined to the east the west rail, the north or the south. It is due to a variety of causes, and to none, perhaps, more than to the fact that there is a difference, and often a peculiar- ity, in humanity. 5 There are in ra ad parlance what are known as a “lin and a “gauge” rail; in nine cases out of ten the “line” rail gets the most attention from the foreman in charge, and in addition two men are usual- ly selected to ” the bolts on joints, one of whom rally the most trusted man in the The other works un- der him. Almost invariably this trusted man gets on the “line” rail, and thus it will be seen that the joinis and bolts are kept in better shape on one rail than on the other, and are therefore more capable of resisting the tendency to “creep.” This habit among trackmen of adopting a pet rail is one of the peculiarities of human nature; barbers have somewhat the same peculiarity—they Jather and rub, shave and powder one side of a man’s face until rail or human endurance rebels against the in- justice. I wonder what “ceniral magnetic attraction” js “held responsible for this id'csyncrasy? see S$ SALOON. A BISHU On the Same Principles as the Liquor Saloon, but Without Intoxicants, ‘om the Chicago Times. Bishop Fallows is to become a saloon He will not sell rum or any other kind of intoxicant, for he proposes to compete for the patronage and influence of the liquor saicon with what he calls the “home saloon.” He is going to put into practical operation the he suggested at the Father Mathew celebration at the Auditorium several months ago. “What,” he said last night, “has the church or the temperance movement to offer in a material way in competition with the saloon? Nothing. I have been investigating the saloon business. I have had men at work finding out all about their methods and the business principles on which they conduct their business. We propese to apply those principles in the conduct ard management of places where we can offer everything that the saloon does in the way of warmth and light and a place to sit down, and a place to get something to eat and something to drink, except intoxicants. I have the figures in my pocket now, and I believe these places can be made both self-supporting and self- propagating. For 5 cents we can furnish a hot drink of coffee, tea, or something of the sort, or other non-intoxicating drinks, together with a pretty fair meal of bread, meat, and potato salad, or something of that scrt. For 10 cents we can do very much better. It is an experiment that has proved successful in London, Liverpool, Manchester, and other English cities. It promises well for Chicago. It can only be demonstrated by experiment. “If one proves successful a hundred will, and we want to locate them right where they are needed. Our first one will be opened in the ‘levee’ district probably, and others wherever they can be made suc- cessful. We want them to be as places of gatherings for friends and acquaintances, something like the wine shops of Paris and the continent. They will be perfectly re- spectable. “People want light and warmth and a place where they can feel they have a right to be, and therefore it is not a ques- tion of welcome or privilege. I believe such a work as this, if it preves success- ful, will be worth fifty years of merely intellectual temperance work. The more I study this matter the more I am im- pressed with its possibilities. One of the features of it is that it shall be self-sup- porting. “It will be carried on as a part of the general scheme of the People’s Institute, though not necessarily in connection with the institute. They will be planted where they can do the most good, and _ these places of refreshment where they are most needed. The institutes will be educational, recreative, 1nd broadly undenominational in their work. They will be open seven days and seven nights in the week. If I had the money it would cost to establish one church where, say, 150 worship Sun- day, I could establish two or three tnstl- tutes.”” Bishop Fallows will not resign his_bish- opric nor his connection with St. Paul's church. He could not, in keeping with ec- clesiastical organization of the Reformed Episcopal Church. He will simply leave the details of parochial work to an asstst- ant or perhaps two. "ADMIT ITS EFFICACY. The interest taken in the almost miraculous cures made by Dr. Kennedy's Favorite Rem- edy at Athens, N. ¥., and other places, result- ed in the Albany, N.Y, Journal sending a 5; cial representative to Athens to investigate the ceses, and It was found that many of the cures made by this medicine were almply wonderful. Jn the cares of Mr. Lewis Glow, who liad chronte kidney disease; Mrs. Casper Brooks, suffering from female troubles, and Mra, Wm. Tiffany, who suffer- ed from general prostration, | all of there | ogses were abandoned by thelr attending physicians. Dr. David Kennedy's Favorit: Re was then ured by “m, and in every case ai ite cure was effected. THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 10, 1893—TWENTY PAGES. KNOWLEDGE VERY CHEAP! No matter what it is you wish to know, if it is “General Information’’ it is no doubt in the | EVENING STAR’S ‘Almanac & Hand=-Book for 1895. 352 pages of solidly printed Local and National Information—Statistics, Records, &c. A —It also treats of the relationship of the District of Columbia and the National Government, duties of the District Commissioners, the District’s sources of revenue, information and statistics $ regarding its lLEducational, Financial, Com- mercial, Charitable and Religious Institutions, Points of Imterest, &c. A Partial List of Contents. Epochs and Eras. Executive Department. | Expenditures of the Government. | Exports and Imports. Farm Mortgages. Fastest Atlantic Steamships, Federal Courts. Federal Government. Federation of Labor. Fire Insurarce Statistics, French Republic. Germany, Government of. Governors of States. Grand Army of the Republic. Great Brit#in; ber Dependencies. sas Soe mssteat Patent Office Procedure. Pauperism and Crime. Pension Department. Popular Vote for President. Population Tables. Postal Information. Post Office Department. Public Debt of the U. S. Pugilistic Records, Qualifications for Votirg. Racing Records. Railroads, Statistics of. Rainfall and Temperature. Religious Statistics, | Revolutionary War. Rivers, Longest in Rowing Events. Rulers of the Chief Nations, Running Records. Salvation Army. Savings Banks. Scientific Associations. Single Tax Statement. Societies, Secret and Fraternal. Solar System, Elements of. Sporting Events. tate and Territorial Statistics. tatutes of Limitation. rm and Cautionary Signals. | State Department. Academy, French. Accidents and Emergencies, ‘ Agricultural Statistics. Alaska, Statistics of. ¢, Altitude, Greatest in each State. 4 Ambassadors of the U. 8. : ‘American Cup, Record of. 4 American Indians. x, Anniversaries of Impor’t Events. ‘Ff Antidotes for Poiscns. 4. Appropriations by Congress. Areas of Countries. f Army and Navy. “¢ Astronomical Phenomena. Ff Atiantic Steamship Lines, 3 Attorneys-General, 4, Austral‘an Ballot. e World. Historical Societies. Homes for Soldiers, Tlorse Racing. Immigration. Interest Laws and Tables [Intertor Department. 4 Bicycle Records. ‘& Billiard Records. Bishops of Relig. Derominations. 4 Boat Races. $Bridzes, Largest in the World. [Internal Reyenue. } British Government. tatacstate icocaasernas ¥ British Customs Tariff, {Iron and Steel, Production of, ‘Building and Loan Associations. | Ra Ecavinet Officers. 4. Calendar. Capitals of Principal Countries. Catholic Hierarchy. °8 Caveats and Trademarks, Chinese Empire. ¢. Christianity, Statistics of. Charches and Sunday Schools. s Cities, Population and Statistics. “8 Civil Service Procedure, Rules. ‘coins, Value of Foreign. Colleges, Statistics of. S commerce, Forelgn, Domestic. 4. Conzress, Members of. onsuls-General and Consuls, Cycles of Time. Jadictary. {Labor Statistics. | Languages. Latitude and Longitude Tables. Legal Holldays. Life Insurance Statistics. Tariffs, History of. ‘Treasury Department. Turf Records. United States Senate. Universities and Colleges, | Mails, Domestic and Foreign, | Manufactures, Statistics of. | Marriage and Divorce Laws, | Memorable Dates. Mexico, Republic of. Minerals, Produetion of. Military Academy. Monetary Statistics. Moztality in the United States. Vice Presidents. Vital Statistics, Walking Records. War Department. Weather Bureau. Weights and Measures. Whist and Duplicate Whist. World's Fairs. arth, Interesting Facts About. pses for 1895 and 1896. ster Sundays. Educational Statistics, ction Returns. Nations of the World. Naturalization Laws. — Yachting Events. Yale and Harvard Boat Racing. Young Men's Christian Ass'n, Negro Population. Newspaper Statistics. 25c. a Copy. To be had at the counting room or by mail. EVENING STAR NEWSPAPER CO. SSS oe See te eee Soadentenseeteesens Soateate me Loe setosocgote eententesiont es So : g Rae ee | ata epee ee SSeS 2 1a WW 5 =} Gold-Filled Watches ||, 66 fez P 7 ‘ Are Indi ae spensable for the * At “Cu TICES. ||| == dyer sh ie eee } : : ——— up” of more mature age. Wet J DLLDt NEVER before ag | { == Wem ‘n great, ‘not to cay striking ‘vas S2552 auf, Gold Elted Wa 14 riety. Every shade of hair matched Par ean Elgin or oF altham to a nicety. Also we have a fine line Petia ns aut wan | ‘ of ape and Wavelets at greatly re- TEES pier Rss meso | fied. prices. fifteen fom usinesa regaraicas | J ie ee eee of profit—ridiculous, we grant, y cesses “CrFine Watch Repairing a ‘S.HEL E 9720 aes 354 2 . we ww we ww ww wwe E specialty. Pi. Schuster, | 717 Market Space. AAT ‘Reductions. You probably remember those Mat- tings we advertised the other day at 12 cents a yard—regular 20c., 2c. and B0c, values. There Were 50 rolls. Only —— a few lef: now. Thes’re going to- hhotrow at the old price—3 CENTS | oe EE PESOOPD ‘S—an admirable selection Small stock, but lots of energy. Jals-20a Ww DBTBUTVHFHTHSO5O 500000600008 ?8oc. Buys $1 Worth. We've reduced our ices Furs 20 PER CENT FOR OAS ONLY. This includes every article of furs in our store. All are fresh, handsome and stylish. We're offer: some rare bargains. : ‘Don’t allow this chance to pass unnoticed. 1s annoying and offensive. Nearly every one suffers from it in greater or less degree, but it can be cured, speedily and effectually, by : Foster’s German Army and Navy: Catarrh Cure. Used in numerous cases with unvarying ~ success. Is also a positive remedy for Cold in the Hesd, Hay Fever and all inflamma- tion of the onsal passages. 50 CENTS AT DRUG STORES. Foster Medicine Co., Baltimore, Md. Jas. Y.Davis’ Sons: 42d12r-8 00059 FE090-60000060600060000 FACIAL ' 1A Great ’ BLETUISHES.|Opportunity H jented housekeepers for the saving ‘The. only institution in the sonth devoted exclo- see darchasee of Cian ond Is otd Ware, cre emis eta ||| ea ee ip pinrmanes Fou CAN CHOOSE FROM OILY SKIN, SUPERFLUOUS HAIR, Dion, tdertea | 30, 40 AND 50 Dr. Hepburn, |FEK,CENT Or Dermatologist, suashpeeaun ciee ewes aca) J. W; BOTELER B SON, University of Vienna. 923 Penna. Ave. Jal MERTZ BLDG., COR. 11TH AND F STS. CONSULTATION FREE. §n5-10-e0