Evening Star Newspaper, January 26, 1895, Page 14

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 26, 1895-TWENTY PAGES. ENTRANCE TO HAVANA HARBOR. FOR REVENUE ONLY The Policy of Spanish Rule in the Island of Cuba. MANY OFFICIALS AND HEAVY TAXES The Corruption of the Custom Ser- vice and the Lottery Curse. TALK OF REVOLUTION Staff Correspondence of The Evening Star. HAVANA, Cuba, January 20, 1895. 1 HE CUBAN LIVES | {hy\) I I) in the hope of some J day having a close commercial unton with the United States. Uncle Sam is practically Cuba's only customer for sugar, and the sugar Interest is the great- est in Cuba. When it is threatened busi- ness alt over the is- land is paralyzed. The recent tariff controversy between the United States and Spain, with the uncertainty of its out- come, has had a most depressing effect on the business of the island Some Cubans took hope from the situation, belfeving that it must lead to the commercial inde- pendence of Cuba. Ja Havana among Spaniards and Cubans it is common to speak of Cuba as “a good cow.” The island has been milked and milked by Spain and the Spaniards, until it has nothing left but the wonderful fer- | tility of its soil. A government which, to an American, seems to have been designed more for the purpose of draining the coun- try of its wealth than for premoting the welfare of its people, is probably respon- sible for the fact that hardly one-fifth of tms productive land is under cultivation, and natural resources of great richness | have been left untouched. Since the revolution was ended many concessions have been made to the Cu- bans. Now they have some share in the goverument—that is, they have a right to vote for a few senators and deputies to the Spanish cortes. But the isiand is full of Spanish officials and Spanish soldiers. ‘The Cuban,as distinguished trom the Span- iard, is not recognized in the distribution | of patronage. An army of oifice holders is | sent out from Spain, and it seems to ve | generally understood that they are to en- | rich themselves in Cuba. Especially is this the case with the customs officials. | Many millions of dollars of goods of all Kinds are imported into Cuba, and the im- port duties fixed in Spain, with a view more to the needs of the Spanish exchequer | than to the interest of Cuban trade, are excessive. ‘This has resulted in a sort of general understanding that goods can be entered under false inveices or appraisements if the official shares with the merchant the financial benefit of such a transaction. Some years ago a man was sent out from Spain as collector of customs, who really tried to be honest and to collect for the government every cent of duty due. Under the system prevailing he received a com- paratively small salary. The merchants declined to pay the duties or to land the goods, so for some months cargoes were | held by the government. Merchants be- | lieved that in course of time the official, | | | | A Narrow Street in the Old Quarter. finding his salery insuffictent to maintain himself, would be compelled to treat with them, and they appear to have been cor- rect, for eventually all the goods were ad- mitted, and no more was heard of that particular spasm of honesty. A business man here explained to me the ordinary way of dealing with the custom house. A Droker or “capitas” is employed as the medium through which the transactions are made. ‘The merchant does not come in direct associaticn with the customs in- spector. He may not even know the name of the man he has bribed. He prepares | two invoices for a lot of goods, one genuine and the other bogus, calling for only a fraction—say, one-half—ot the duties that would be honestly due. ‘The broker takes the two invoices and makes the best ar- rangement he can, which means, it is said, that the merchant saves half of the duty that could legally be collected. Half of the amount thus saved goes to the broker, and of the broker's share, it is said, some cus- tom official gets a half. An Englishman who !s interested in the management of a railroad here had a few days ago to pay $5,000 duty on an American locomotive. He told me that he could have saved half the duty by making an arrangement with the customs officers, but he was unwilling to (lo so, as he represented a public com- pany. Resalt of Spanish Rule. Althou the Cuban has more political | rights than he had before the revolution, | th nia teday than ever. fn the hands of the 4d dominates the island more siness of all kinds is paniard. In the cities | every commercial employment fs controlled by the Spaniard. Formerly it was the case that the Cabans were the planters and land ow: ing mc Spaniard ence t but now even this interest is com- | and under the control of the There is a marked race diffe is ween the two people. The Spaniard fs d t and the Cuban seems to be taki ne place of a dependent or inferior people. It 1s said the Spanish government | ® encourages the race feeling between the two as a ard 3 st successful revo- | lntion. If an should ¢ the rd in Cuba and the their lot together, and common, against the they might accom- hose. The Spaniard | d not inclined to rd political in burdens laid upon he proposed to meet in Havana in Ma s of is regarded as a s th tion of this hop G 1ng want home rule, and ma s are favoring it, although t give that name to it. The bill onsideration by the Sp: | iding for a local administrative | the proposal of the Spanish hame | ex e cil is rulers. One can always hear mysterious talk among young Cubans of revolution. That the Spanish government fears revolution is | no good roads, | ob: | doubl | to whom T! | lier, evidenced by the large military establish- ment kept on the island. Still sensible Cubans do not have any idea that they will gain independence from Spain by fight- ing. It is douotful, too, whether any large number of them would really favor annex- ation to the United: States. Such a thing would mean a wonderful improvement and development of everything in Cuba, but it would mean to the Cuban that the island would soon be dominated by restless, thrifty, energetic Americans, with whom he would have even less race sympathy than with the Spaniard. The Cuban, it is said, would prefer present conditions. ‘The result of Spanish rule and a colonial policy founded on cupidity is a condition of affairs that even loyal Spaniards in Cuba do not think can last long. The island is taxed to death to meet the de- mands of Spain and to satisfy the avarice of office holders. Everything is taxed. if it is possible to hang a tax on it. The prices of necessaries of life in the cities are exorbitantly high. Fortunately for the poor people in the country, the climate and the productiveness of the soil is such that they can live without buying much. Flour has to pay an import duty of $4 to $4.75 a barrel, and other necessaries of life | are taxed in proportion. Millions of dol- lars are raised in taxes and yet one can see very little evidence of any expenditure for the benefit of Cuba. A big army is maintained here and that is all. There are no buildings for public schools, improvements of any kind. The one great public institution that the &evernment fosters is the lottery, and the lottery has done much to demoralize the people. It is a source of revenus to the government. There are three drawings a month, and there would be more if the no public Street Peddler. people could scrape money enough together to make more drawings profitable to the government. Everybody buys lottery tick- ets. One effect to give to the people, as a rule, the recklessness of gamblers. They live constantly in the hope or even the erpectation of being enriched by the next lottery drawing. It is said the government nets from one to two million dollars a year from the lottery. The “billetario” or lottery ticket peddler is one of the familiar objects of the streets of Havana, and also of the railroad stations and towns through- out the island. When one first lands in Havara he is pressingly Invited to buy a lottery ticket. Probably the first welcome he receives as he steps from the little boat that carries him from his steamer to the landing quay will be from a trampish-looking individual flourishing a pair of scissors in one hand ard a sheet or two of paper in the other. He has a sing-song ery in Spanish which simply means that he has lottery tickets to sell. A lottery ticket is a big thing—as big almost as a three-shcet pester, and it is printed in forty coupons. These lottery ticket peddlers seldom, if ever, dispose of a whole ticket at a time. A whole ticket costs $20 for an ordinary drawing or $40 for an extraordinary drawing. The ped- aller sells usually to one person the fortieth part of a ticket, represented by one of the cevpons, and he has his scissors ready to cut off the part purchased. Then in addition to these street peddlers there are scores of offices given over to the sale of lottery tickets. At every cigar counter, every soda fountain or lemonade booth lottery tickets are sold. In the mar- kets there are as many stands devoted to the sale of lottery tickets as there are butchers’ stalls. The “billetarios” are of all colors, ages and sexes. Formerly they used to sell their tickets on ‘commission. The night before the drawing they turned in all of their nnsold tickets and the money received for the tickets or parts of tickets they may have sold. The billetario was per- mitted to charge an advance of 10 per cent on the regular price of the ticket as his commission. Now the billetario has to buy his tickets outright. If he does not sell all before the drawing he has them on his hands. Of course he has the chance: that he may hold in his unsold stock a lucky ticket. Many of the bil- letarios look like beggars. They are ragged and dirty, wan of face and often crippled. They make piteous appeals to the way- farers in the street to buy their tickets. Many of them go through the streets like fish venders, looking into the house win- dews and crying their wares. The Spanish law forbids the sale of tickets for any lot- tery not conducted under Spanish super- vision and tributary to the Spanish treas- ury. Tickets for other lotteries are sold here secretly, but the traffic in such con- traband goods is attended with some risk. Eee aa TEACHERS AND SCHOLARS. A Suggestion to Bring Thanksgiving “Neurer to the Christmas Date. From the New York Times. A suggestion sent by a teacher to the Boston Transcript is well worth setting forth in other places, though it will prob- ably avail nothing. “Would it,” the cor- respondent asks, “offend very deeply those who love New England to suggest that Thanksgiving day be changed from the usual last Thursday of November to Fore- fathers’ day (December 21), a day strongly allied to Thanksgiving and quite generally erved already? In the days of the Pil- grims, when Thanksgiving was established, Christmas was held in no esteem whatever, and Thanks 'g was the only holiday for month3.” The change is advoeated on the strongly practical grounds of dcing away with the 1 traveling expen to teacher and student who wish to spend both holidays at home, and the doulle Interruption in one month of the school term. Every teac’ * this one says truly enough, “knows how disheartening it is to find, on opening school the Monday after ‘Thanksgiving, several pupils who were in yund health absent for reasons directly traceable to the Thanksgiving vacation.” ‘The combination of the two holidays in ene vacation, she argues, would reduce the expense and inconvenience of travel and insure a better attendance through the month of December. Thre would be two terms of fifteen weeks each, and one term of ten weexs in the school year, schools to begin the ‘ond Monday of September and Janvar The suggestion is a radical one to minds anksgiving on the last Thurs- day in November is almost a religious be- but it has some good arguments to sustain it, and in an age that has seen the Ze commencem oration abolished what iconoclasm may not be expected? At the Matinee. From the Judy. ss Worcester—“Oh, that was a lovely And yet they say that nothing good produced at a morning performance. Why, I have been crying my eyes out at the pathos of it. Miss White—“And so could T have done, only I knew the dye in my veil would have come off on my face.” is TO BECOME A WIDOW Pauline Pry’s Interesting Investi- gations as to the Cost. DIVORCES AND FONERALS COMPARED Resorting to Legal Methods Less Expensive Than Death. LAWYER AND UNDERTAKER Written Exclusively fo> The Evening Star. URING THE PAST week I have been working in the in- terest of women who want to be widows. I have found how the obstacle of a good husband may be overcome in se- curing a divorce,and I have located a bar- gain in funerals. This I have done to no frivolous end, but that the cause of woman might be more speedily advanced. The desirability of widowhood has been too long sung in poetry and too well sup- ported by fact to be a question in any- body's mind. = Marriage is purely a matter of souls. Bodies, family ties, bread and butter, and the other sordid considerations that in times past have been wont to go under the head of a happy married life—lies, every one of them. A lie is a sin—even you, with your little childish, Christian mind, know that much. It follows, therefore, everything about marriage is sinful but souls. When a woman finds this out—it’s usual- ly the woman who makes discoveries about marriage, you know—men are engaged elsewhere—when a woman finds that, de- spite the existence around her of what might be scientincally termed the environ- ment of marriage, her soul is not in it, then—well, what a woman needs to know then 1 determined to nnd out. In the Lawyer's Office. “If you please, sir, I'd like a divorce,” I said to the lawyer whose great specialty is divorces, and he never guessed that speaking to him was a woman who had no interest in his business only as it furthers the cause of her advancing sex. “Are you sure you want a divorce?” said the lawyer, dreamily, surveying me from eyes befcre which no woman could be any- thing but all wool and lamb-like. “Perfectly sure, sir; 1 want a divorce; “Very well, then,” settling an inch or two deeper into the great leather easy chair he filled. “Now, let me ask you some questicns and we'll get ahead better. How long have you been married? How many children? How old are they? Hus- band support you? Cruel to you? Untrue to you? Certain of that? Um! remarkable man. We don't have many like .that in this world. Well, now, all you say is so, is it? Then tell me why do you want a di- vorce?” “Because.” ‘ Not Enough for the © “A very good reason, and I understand it perfectly, but I'm afraid it wouldn't go in court. On what ground would you base your application for diverce?” I said. “I thought I might have to fly to South Dakota.” This merry jest queered me for a minute. “You don’t want a divorce,” said the law- yer, at the same time trying to make out of me what I did want. “You may think you do,” he continued, “but you don't. It is curious what power a lawyer has to make or mar the happiness of human be- ings. I sometimes tremble under the re- sponsibility that is placed upon me. “Suppose I were to advise you wrong, the happiness of four lives would be wrecked. Awtfui!” aad he towed his head under his burden a moment. Then bobbing up se- renely, he went on, “Have you thougat what you would do in the event of your getting a divorce? Have you ever worked for a living? 1 thought net. You never experienced the strain, the loss of energy consumed in making a hundred dollars, did you? How, then, would you expect to support yourself?” How Make a Living? y,”’ I stammered; “I'd live on “That's a simple sclution of the problem, surely. Eut how do you know you would get alimony? Here you tell me there is ab- solutely no charge to be made against your husband, but that he is good; and yet you wouid take from him his wife and his chil- dren, or would you want the children? Well, then, you would take from him his wife and children, spoil his home, his hap- piress and his whole life, and.at the same time expect him to contribute to your sup- port. Would that be fair, do you think?” “Well, really, I didn’t Come here to talk abcut what is fair, but what is possible. If I couldn't get a divorce with alimony I would take one without.” “And you would support yourself—how?’ the lawyer went on. ‘‘The court would ask that, and on the answer you would make would depend largely the court's judgment of whether a divorce should be granted eet “Oh, that would be all right. I'm sure I could earn my ewn living if I tried. But, anyhow, my father is perfectly able to support me.” “Now, tell me frankly, why do you want a divorce? One should always be frank with her doctor and lawyer.” Just Wanted One. “I simply want one. I do not care for my husband, and the perfect development of one’s mind and soul is hindered in mar- riage, unless the husband and wife are per- fectly sympathetic. The mere living with a man should in itself be marriage inde- pendent of vows and legal obligations. My marriage is not such, and I thought you could readily tell me whether it would be necessary for me to go to South Dakota or somewhere else, or whether you could manage a divorce for me here. Does not my case come under the head of incom- bility of temper?” trictly speaking a divorce is never granted on that ground,” said the lawyer, “though in reality the conditions of in- compatible temper may be so represented to the court as to secure a divorce when no other ground exists.” The Husband’s Side. “But, now, taking it for granted that you mean what ycu say, accepting no more than that you do not care for your hus- band, and fcr that reason wish to be free, let us consider the case from all sides. ‘There is your husband's. Have you ever told him you wished a divorce? Suppose you did so, what would he say?’ “probably that I am mistaken. You know a man’s egotism could scarcely be- lieve, without proof. that a woman should aspire beyond him, if he happens to be isfied with her. “Um! But do you not think he would be moved?" “Doubtless. A man hates to have his habits interrupted.” “Do you not think he would oppose you? In his place I know what I would do," said the lawyer. “If you up and said you wanted a divorce from me, and I had given you no cause, 1 would go into court and prove you unfit to have the care of your children, and I would take them away from you. I would oppose your divorce hill and force you to continue my wife, and I'd lose no possible opportunt- ty to show you the full measure of my righteous indignation.” “But you are not my husband. Besides, I didn’t ccme to a lawyer to examine my conscience. I want a divorce, and I want you to tell me how to get it. “Well, hody who puts consclence out ef the question and spends money in this world can usually get what she wants. You are perfectly sure your husband fs faithful to you? Very remarkable.” “\Would your experience with masculine depravity ‘suggest employing detectives?” I asked. No; I never did that but once, and it was not a success. You have spoken that's what I came to you to find out,” | Tp you ha TT harshly of man’s egotisiti. I méant to sug- gest that a woman's efotism may be no less a protection agzinst*knowledge painful to her vanity. There, now, perhaps if I can make you angry and a bit suspicious ycu won't want a divorce. Ah! it is hope- less. Well, then; te business. 1 do not usvally spend so muchitime talking with my clients But yours! is a remarkable cese—a man without a tlaw. How to Go ti Work. “This would be the way for you to go to work: First, tell your husband what you intend doing. If he consents not to Oppose you it might be possible to con- strue a case of cruel treatment, a ground that is very widely extended at the discre- tion of the court to: cover many instances of incompatibility .of temper. Something of the sort is possible) understand, only provided your husband consents not to Oppose you.” “But,” I interrupted, “I thought a di- vorce brought about by collusion does not keld if the collusion is discovercd.”” ..{That is not collusion,” said the lawyer; there must be concerted action in provid- ing evidence for the case to constitute col- lusion. If your husband should indicate that he would oppose your divorce, then I would help you to go to South Dakota or Oklahoma—Oklahoma is beiter. ‘There you can reside three months and get a divorce on any ground without the least diiliculty. Probably desertion would be the best charge to make. The one trouble is, the divorce may not stand fire. If your hus- band chose to nag you, he might test the validity of the decree, and it might turn out that you had no divorce after all your pains and expense. People usvally, though, who go to Okiahoma often take their next husband cr wife along and get married again the same day they are divorced, so that complications thus arise to make a hard task of doing anything with them. Yes, you might take your attorney from here with you, but that would be very ex- pensive,” “How much does a divorce cost, any- way?” T asked. The Cost of a Divorce. “That depends to some extent on how much a woman wants a divorce, and how much she has to spend. I have had women come in here and say first off in cold blood: ‘I'l pay you $1,000 to get me a divorce. Can you do it?’ Generally speaking, the cost is much less. There is the retainer’s fee of $50, and—well, all told, if you con- ene to proceed, it will cost you about I left the lawyer, promising to tell my husband I wanted a divorce, and report for further instructions. It had occurred to me, however, that it might be cheaper to have a funeral. I therefore repaired to the shop of an undertaker, who is adver- tising bargains in coftins—“With a glass, #25; without glass, $15; cloth-covered, $55; varnised, $35," ete. From Divorces to Funcrals, To have an undertaker's inborn sense of the external fitness of things, I would part with my great logical mind, and count it no loss. While I waited in his office, the undertaker drove up in a phaeton, and be- side him, under the black lap robe, was a small white coffin. He walked into the of- fice with an expression of countenance that assured me before a word was spoken how deepiy he sympathized with me in my great aifliction. Anybody but an undertaker is likely to wear blonde or even bright red hair in the presence of a heart bowed down. But the hair, eyebrows and whiskers of this man were just as black as his hat. His trousers, to be sure, seemed to lapse into forgetfulness -they were gray-——but the coat and vest were oh! so thoughtfully bound with black braid that, after all, the less somber tone of the trousers became a gentle consolation—a reminder of the period when second mourning permits a sorrowing widow to look up and take noti “I have a friend," I said, “whose hus- band is certain to depart in'a day or two, and she wished me to learn the expense of a funeral so that she can make up her mind just what she wants done with him. She has thought of taking him home to Maine for the funeral, and she don't know but she'll bury him hyre, and she wanted to know if you burm them “I do everything,” he, answered, “and I'm certain my prices can't be beat in the city. About the burning, L, wouldn't advise it. e had ne experience, of course, you can’t judge, But it's not pleasant—not at all. I don't think you would like it. But about the funeral I can get up one that can’t fail to please the most particu- lar. I take it that you want things nice without being extravagant—something styl- ish and at the same time plain. I can show you a splendid line of coffins. Now, that one always gives perfect satisfaction. Or if you care to go higher, here is a coffin, $85 with the tassels and $75 without, all fitted up—upholstered inside with satin, fine handles and a nice plate the size of that book for engraving the name. Not a solid silver plate--oh, no; but it’s just as solid as you want or you'll get anywhere. It’s triple-plated on white metal, and wears—I never saw anything wear like it. I've dug them up after six or seven years and not a speck of rust on them. Remains and Flower ‘ow about the remains. You would wish them embalmed? Yes, it’s much pleasanter. I always aim to have every- thing just as pleasant as possible about my funerals. For flowers you can spend as much or little as you like. I can get you a nice wreath for $3. A cross and crown comes higher, and so do pillows and gates ajar. A pillow looks nice. Well, we'll say, then, $10 for flowers and do the hest we can. The hearse will be six dollars—that’s with the plumes and everything complete. Carriages come $3.50 apiece. Trust me, they'll be in nice shape, everything to match—black horses for the mourners’ car- riuges, and all the drivers in uniforms with brass buttons. I can provide a grave and tombstone, too, if you like. Eighteen dol- lars for just as nice a grave as you want, and $20 for a first-class headstone. Alto- gether that makes—let me see—31W), every- thing first-class, and nothing omitted. You needn't take my word for it, but I know you can’t get a funeral anywhere in the country at prices to beat those figures.”” From the Undertaker to the Dress- muker, Promising to telephone if, as he deli- cately put it, anything unexpected came along in the night, I followed the natural course of woman's grief from the under- taker’s to the dressmaker's. I went to whom McAllister McWard as- sures me is the smartest tailor in town, and said: “I have a friend whe is expecting her husband to depart any hour. What ar- rangement have you for fixing her out in mourning?” “Oh, we send right to the house and take her measure, and go to the house to fit, and we can get an order out as quick as anybody, though the more time you can let us have the better.” “And what do you suggest for the widow?” “Well, of course she'll want a complete street suit—drap d'etat, or something like that—with a handsome cape or coat. Then she will need a house dress of, say, cre- pon, with dull jet trimmings, and a tea gown. Yes, we supply the bonnet and veil also. That will be $15. A young wo- man? Then she can put -on the widow's ruche at once if she cares to. It is very becoming. I think she would like it. Everything, including the bonnet, would amount to $250. Do you care to take sam- ples along now Replying that I guessed I'd wait till he was dead, I went on, and as I went reck- ored the combined cost of a funeral and widow’s weeds. In all, it amounts to $310. As against this isa divorce obtainable on the ground of wanting one at $150, which goes to show that divorce, besides being more certain than death, is less ex- pensive. Still there are people who harp about the evils of the American divorce! PAULINE PRY. Se Love and Life. To the Editor of The Evening Star: Perhaps to many who seem to admire, but are mystified as to the meaning of Watts’ picture, “Love and Life,” now on exhibition at the Corcoran Gallery, Mrs. Browning's beautiful poem may be a reve- Jation and add new light to the study of beth picture and poem. I give it in whole: LIFE AND LOVE. ast this life of mine was dying, lind already and calm as death; stakes on her bosom lying Searcely heaving with the breath. me by, and having known her In a dream of fabled tands Gently stooped, and la Mystic chrism of hol “Drew his smile across her folded yelids, the swallow dips, hed as finely as the cold Alc ‘Through the locking of her lip. “So when Life looked upward, being Warined and breathed on from above, What sight could she have for seeing, Evermore—but only Love J. A. CALVERT. January 17, 1895. BANGKOK. IN THE TROPICS Visit of an American Man-of-War to . Siam’s Capital. RECEIVED IN STATE BY THE KING Picturesque Scenes in a Country Little Known to Europeans. AMIABLE AND HALF CLAD ee Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. HE CROWN prince of that inter- esting land, Siam, died a few days ago. His name was no less sonorous than Somdetch Chowfa Maha Vajirunhis,and he lived in the cap- ital, Bangkok, a city that all eastern trav- elers try to visit. The first view of Bangkok shows one a unique place. Most of the streets are small creeks, only one- fourth of the city being wholly on land, and the houses are generally built on piles, whether in the water or not, and are one cr two stories high, with all sides open and with wooden columns supporting wooden roofs. Numbers of boats, with lit- tle basket-work shelters in thelr sterns, line the sides of the creeks, and a large population lives in them entirely. Men and women of the Malay type, with dark olive skins, are to be seen sculling these boats to and fro, or else letting Chinamen do it for them. If they live in houses they are generally loafing on the platform, keeping in the shade of the wide-spreading roof. Some of the women may be seen washing clothes, and others sitting idly by, chew- ing betel nut. Their smooth, rounded shoulders shine like bright copper, for they wear their cotton appers loosely. The men wear a white cloth wound around the hips and between the legs. They are of medium size and carry them- selves erectly. The more well-to-do wear a short silk or cotton jacket in addition to the robe around the middle. Both men and women are lazy, but one cannot blame them if they do spend much of their time in sitting still and dangling their feet in Palace Grounds. the water, for Bangkok ts only 13 degrees 38 minutes north of the equator, and the mean annual temperature of that section of Siam is no less than SO degrees. The river cn which, cr rather in which, the city stands is called the Menam, and it empties into the Gulf of Siam, about twenty miles to the southward. The trip up this river from the gulf to the city is remarkable,on account of the great growth of jungle on either bank. The muddy stream floods the adjacent country every summer, and when I went up it, on an American man-of-war, the jungle looked all afloat. Rising up from the thick un- dergrowth on both banks were mangroves, pandanus, rattans and tall palms. Near the river's edge, with the jungle for a background, were occasional groups of huts built on piles. A small Buddhist temple generally stood in the midst of them, and the Buddhist priests, whose name is legion in Siam, could be distin- guished from our decks by the saffron color of their robes. Terribly unhealthy these villages on the edge of the jungle appeared, and I afterward heard that white men could not live in them without losing their health or lives. Received by the King. The animal life common to the warmer regions of the tropics abounds in Siam, and there are to be seen tigers, rbinoceroses, elephants and boars. Smailer than these, but hardly less terrible, are the beasts that one finds in every house. Tarantulas, scor- pions and lizards are liable to appear at any time. The Siamese keep iguanas in their houses for the express purpose of driving these vermin away, but to a for- eigner an iguana itself is not a pretty creature to contemplate. The bed that I slept in one night at the hotel had its legs placed in small tin pails of water to keep all reptiles off, and was also provided with a mosquito net to bar out all winged ani- mals. But night in a hotel at Bangkok is not a time of rest for a stranger; there is too much rustling and croaking and buzz- ing in the darkness to allow his nerves to be calm. We were only too glad to return to our ship at night and thereby escape is. Our visit was an unusual event, for American men-of-war do not often go to Bangkok, for the reason that American interests are unimportant in Siam, and also because only a small ship can cross the bar that is formed in the gulf just below the delta of the Menam river. The king, who lives in Bangkok, sent his aid with an invitation to us to call at the palace. We went, and imagine our surprise to find that the King of Siam had a residence no less incongruous than an Italian palace! In the audience room the furniture and decorations were wholly European. Tno corridors of the building were lined with busts of eminent men, all of whom were Caucasians. The reason of these foreiga surroundings was that the king and sev- eral members of the royal family have re- ceived foreign educations, and some of them have been to Europe as children, Our interview with the king was little more than what is usual in such cases; that is, an interchange of good wishes, which on this occasion were made known through an interpreter. The king had a quiet dignity of manner, and was dressed in a dark silk robe, wound about his waist and legs, and a short, dark jacket. On His feet were European shoes and stock- ings. His face was agreeable, except when he smiled, when his teeth, discolored by the use of betel nut, would show them- selves. I learned that everybody in Slam, men, women and children, chew this stuff, which is made from the areca palm, and stains the teeth a dull red, giving a re- puisive appearance to the mouth. *The king’s brother conducted us about the palace and spoke English with ease. It was curious to observe that whenever a native servant or soldier about the palace l wished to pass by this prince, the inferior being got down almost on his stomach, and in that abject position scuttled along close to the wall until he had got about twenty feet beyond, when he would dare to re- sume the posture of a man and biped. A more vivid picture of the inhuman degrada- tion of caste could hardly have been seen. We were more interested in this exhibition ; than the prince himself, who paid no at- tention whatever to it, but occupied him- self in being very polite to his guests. The Famous White Elephant. We were taken to see the elephants of the royal elephant artillery. There were twenty of them in all and of many sizes. The biggest one, called by foreigners a white elephant, was the king's favorite. He seemed a trifie shorter than Jumbo, and his tusks lapped over each other and rested on tho ground. His neck and ears were slightly mottled, but otherwise his color was that of other elephants. I learned while in Siam that there never was known in that land, or in any other, such a iusus naturae as a white elephant. But the myth still lives, and probably always will. Elephants are sacred in Siam, as also are albino monkeys. We were then taken to visit the numerous temples in the palace grounds of the king. They were all of the picturesque Indian architecture, their di- A Buddhist Temple. mensions in some cases being large and imposing. Many priests were passing in and out of them in their yellow robes. In one temple was a gilded recumbent figure of Buddha, one hundred feet long. This was called the temple of the ‘sleeping Buddha, and there was but little space left Letween the image and the roof and sides of the building. In another place was a courtyard, surrounded by fully one hundred gilded copper Buddhas of varying size, all in the well-known sitting posture, ‘and radiating calm and gentleness from’ their benign countenances. These temples are calied wats, and some of them tower high above the city and add greatly to its beau- ty. Bangkok has been called the Venice of the east, but hardly deserves so great a compliment, even if many of its streets do lie under water, for in that fact the only resemblance rests. Wherever we walked or were rowed, the people were amiable and polite. The women were not pretty, except for their smooth, light brown arms and shoulders. There are about 400,000 people in Bangkok, though one would hard- ly believe it, as so many of the inhabitants stay out of sight through much of the day, lurking in the shade to avoid the heat. Like all the eastern people, the Siamese are fond of ceremonies. When we were in Bangkok a procession of boats took place in honor of a visit of the king to one of the temples. We re told that wherever the inundations of the Menam river, caused by the rainy season, are expected’ to subside there is a great display of boats, and the Buddhist priests proclaim to the floods that they must withdraw. There were about a dozen American missionaries in Bangkok, and their success in converting the natives is said to be slow, but sure. A Horrible Custom. The Siamese are ruled by custom and do things that we would hardly consider in- telligent. For instance, they think a man’s head should never be raised above that of his superior in runk. They make @ great to do over cutting a boy’s hair when he is thirteen years old, and his family has a small festival. It is a fact that whenever the king has his hair cut it is an event of public importance and celebration. The missionaries told me the king had two hundred women in his harem, but that otherwise he was a man of exemplary life. I went to the outskirts of that part of Bangkok which is on dry land and saw the spot where the dead poor were exposed and a flock of vultures hovering over it or glutting themselves on the ghastly prey. I did not go too near to them, the sight being too awful. I was told that the rich Siamese are burned in the wats, and that their ashes are used to mix with plaster for making the walls of the wats; thus literally do they “stop a hole to keep the wind away.” In appearance the Siamese are like good: looking half-breed American negroes. They have an aristocracy, laws, a little art and a slight fiterature. They do not play an important part among the nations of the east, and are regarded as an appetizing bit of prey by some of the mcre civilized and more rapacious countries of the earth, such, for instance, as France and England, both of which have often turned greedy eyes upon this rich land. The climate,with its disastrous effects on white men, has done more than anything else to keep Siam independent. If it were not for the laziness of her six million natives the re- sources 6f the country would be adequately exploited by themselves instead of by for- eigners. Although the king and his rela- tions are men of European education, the people at large are little more developed than some of the advanced tribes of the ou = Islands. e trade of Siam ts chieffy !n silk, sugar, rice, hides, tusks and tea‘ ‘wood, and most of it is attended to by Chinese merchants who have settled in the country and who are more energetic than the natives. We never grew tired of lcoking at the graceful pinnacles and minarets of the best native architecture, and visite? all of the king’s tempies, of which there must have been twenty in the palace grounds, and each of which seemed more richly ornamented, both outside and in, with inlaid stones cf bright colors than the last. Inside, on the stone floor, were small mats of silver cloth, on which the saffron-robed priests sat be- fore the image of Buddha. One of the striking features of that part of the city which was on dry land was the number of trees, with a tropical density of green foliage that was dazzling in the sun- shine. Around many of the houses there were rich gardens that were almost chok- ing with shrubs and flowers. It seemed to me that the Siamese chose groves as ap- propriate spots for their temples and schools. We visited one of the !atter—a long, low shed—in the heart of a grove, where there were about fifty half-clad boys, all of whem were reciting the same lesson at the same time in sing-song unison. Our stay in Bangkok was not long enough to enable us to visit the interior of the country and learn more of its peculiarities, but, nevertheless, when we sailed away we carried with us the most interesting mem- ories of the picturesque part of Siam that we had seen, with its city of navigable streets, its glistening temples, its tropical vegetation, its open houses, its jungles, steaming in the sun; its flooded fields and distant forests, and, last of all, its lstless, amiable, half-clad people. LIVINGSTON HUNT, U. S. Navy. —— The Differe: From the Chicago Tribune. “What's this?” demanded the guest, pointing to one of the side dishes the wait- er had brough ‘Sausages, si answered the waiter. “I didn’t order an: “I thought you did, sir.” “I ordered sauce. Can't you tell the dif- ference between sauce and sausages?” “Yes, sir,” said the waiter, gathering up the rejected dish with unrufiled dignity. “Between sauce and sausages there is ee a difference of ages. Wish coffee, sir?” ce Slight. DR. SHADE’S DISCOVERY FOR CONSUMPTION. Investigation Is Reflect- ing the “Light of Open Day” on the Great- est Discovery of the Country. SEVENTEEN INTERVIEWED 80 FAR---TWO PHYSICIANS CURED. Phillips, Late Physician to the Bellevue Hospital, Intor- viewed. Dr. From the Times. ‘The Times has spared no pains and perseverance in giving to the public the result of quite a number of interviews of persons in this city who allege that they were cured of consumption by Dr. Shade, the only physician on this continent who can posi- tively arrest the terrible monster tuberculosis (con- sumption). ‘The persons interviewed have been selected from those who have been cured several years ago, in order that the genuineness of the cares could be tested by the parties still remaining well, while the larger number of persons who have been-cured since have been omitted for some future reference, after their recoveries have proven to be as perma- nent as those who have been interviewed and given to the public for inspection. ‘Two of the seventeen citizens reported cured are physicians who have had years of experience in the practice of medicine. One of them was physician to the lung departments of the hospitals of New York city, as well as chief inspector of the hos- pitals of the county and city of New York. Who avould ask better authority than Dr. Phillips, whose interview appears below? ‘The physicians of New York failed to cure him. Drs. Loomis end Jane- way were his associates in their hospital service, and they allowed him to resign bis important po- sitions to settle into retired life and die of that terrible disease, consumption, which Dr. Phillips declares Dr. Shade has positively errested ia his case, Read what Dr. Phillips bas to sa “Some fifteen years ago catarrh developed In my nose and throat. It continued to Increase in se- in spite of treatment. My breath was of- fensive from the disease. The whole of my throat became terribly affected. It felt to me as if there was a growth forming in my throat. I was satis- fied I had tuberculosis—consumption-—for it passed down into my bronchial tubes; expectorated in the morning. I had great misery in my throat, which annoyed me very much. “I tried all kinds of treatment, and no improve- ment. I lost in flesh. I saw in the Washington Post a new remedy for consumption, as published in the Medical World, which joursal I secured, and found it was written by Dr. Nevin B. Shade, 1232 Fourteenth street, Washington, D. C. I be- gan taking his treatment of my own accord on the 11th of September, 1891, and contt it up to the Sth day of January, 1892, when I called to see Dr. Shade for the first time and put my case un- der bis care. Since then I have been calling to see him frequently. I am much improved in every respect; have gained in weight remarkably. I have watched myself with great care and am satisfied that I am a well man, as pertains to catarrh, pulmonary or throat consumption. Dr. Shades plan of treatment, I am satisfied, will be the com- ing treatment for tuberculosis in its various forms manifested in the physical system. “I have been surgeon at the Belleyue Hospital, physician to the outdoor poor for Bellevue Hospital for heart and lung diseases; also medical inspector for all hospitals in the city and county of New York under the department of public charities and corrections for six years. Was compelled to resign on account of my health, and I don’t besi- tate to recommend Dr. Shade as being the most successful lung specialist in this country.” it he eS Japan’s Learned Soldicrs. From the London Daily News. It appears that notebooks are quite com- mon in the Japanese army among both soldiers and coolies; they keep regular diaries, and take copious notes of every- thing they see. “It is surprising,” writes a war. correspondent to the China Mail, “what a lot they know about the great west. Several of them talk intelligently of Spartans and Persians, Napoleon and his march to Moscow, and even compare the abolition of feudalism in England and Japan. They fully understand all that is implied in the contrast between old-fash- joned hand-to-hand warfare and modern long-range maneuvers, and they speak scornfully of the Chinese tactics at Ping- Yang, in trying cavalry charges against massed bodies of riflemen without first using their machine guns, as the French at Waterloo did their field pieces, to throw the ranks in disorder. All this from the Jap- anese must be surprising to Europeans, be- cause we do not know them. Their pro- gress is greater and more real than for eigners imagine.” The Value of True Proportions. From the Indlanapolis Sentinel. “Bridget, the coffee you are giving us is very good, What kind is it?” “It’s no koird at all, mum,” said Bridget; “it’s a mixture.” “How do you mix it?” “I make it one-quarter Mocha, one-quar ter Java and one-quarter Rio.” Z “But that’s only three-quarters. What do you put in for the other quarter?” “{ put in no other quarter at all, mum. That's where so many spiles the coffee, mum—by putting in a fourth quarter.” —__-+0+_—___ What! You call me a swindle! B.—“No; but I am prepared to give ten marks to any one who proves to me the contrary.”"—Deutsche Wespen. = YOU FEEL LANGUID, ‘oar liver that’s at fault. & sluggish, torpid liver deranges your stomach and kidney ind bowels. It poisons your blood. You feel it “all over ‘The best known remedy tn the world is Carls- bad. People go there, not only for a disordered liver, but for all the diseases that follow it, and for Jaundice and chronic liver complaint, and every ailment of the kind. There’s no need for you to go. You get pre cisely the same treatment in the Carlsbad Spradel Salt (the water solidified at the Spring) or in the imported waters. In catarrh of the stomach, Gys- pepsia, habit ion, votes, or any gouty or rheumatic affection, they have been a specific for hundreds of years. ‘Take only the genuine imported erticle, with the signature of “EISNER & MENDELSON CO., Sele Agents, New York,” and the seal of the city of Carlsbad on every bottle. Beware of the many worthless imitations sold he-e 2s “improved or “artificial”? Carlsbad Salt, which consist only of a mixture of common Glauber Salt and Seidlitz Pow- der, and in no way have the same action as the genuine natural remedy of Carlsbad. Insist upon the genuine