Evening Star Newspaper, January 26, 1895, Page 16

16 THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 26, 1895-TWENTY PAGES. WORSHIP OF FOOD! The French Can Live on What Americans Waste. ART OF CHEAP LIVING IN PARIS Ten-Cent Meals and the Bill of Fare. . RAW MATERIAL PRICES a Sige Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. PARIS, January 15, 1895. HE REASCN WHY Parisians live so well is that food is so scarce. It makes them careful. I am at a loss to give the right impression cf at jealous rever- ence, which attaches to the cult of food and drink i! Paris. It is like the fetish worship of the Afri- cans; and it attaches to the abstract thought of food, apart from its nutrition. For instance, it is an industry with certain bakers to buy up bad eggs and damaged flour and make a species of gigantic doush- nut, which is bought by the bourgeois to feed tu parrots. It is unfit for human be- ings. Yet a nice girl, seventeen years old, fresh from a Pennsylvania town, out on her first walk all alone, without a hat and in red slippers, on the day succeeding her arrival in the gay French capital, saw hanging in a grocery store a stack of these bird fritters and went in and bought two, which she ate upon the premises. And the proprietor, a kindly woman of ripe age, gave her no warning. The girl was taken ill, with pains. Then her preceptor, who was an Episcopalian clergyman, stepped around to chide the old Parisienne: “You ought to be ashamed to let an innocent young creature eat those fetid fried cakes!” She replied onsieur, I thought she liked them!” That was all. There is a special reason why Paris- Jans enjoy their food. They only eat two meals. Their breakfast hour ts 11:30, and their dinner hour is 6:30 or 7. When the Parisian—no matter of what class—gets up he swallows down a cup of coffee, which must last him till his dejeuver. The work- fngman alone is the exception. He has kept the habit of soup, strong soup, warmed up, the last night's soup. He fills up mightily on soup at home and takes a glass of white wine with a free lunch fresh roll at some wine shop on his route. He, like the salesman ‘and the clerk, and all the working girls, takes from his home a cold lunch to eke out his bona fide break- fast when the time comes on toward noon. What do they carry In their packages, these bright working girls who work so bravely on a cup of coffee, who would rather walk to work than miss thelr after- dinner candy, who would rather wear their summer underclothing in the winter than appear in run-down shoes, who value vio- let powder more than soap and judge a fitting corset more important than a coat? Their regulation delicactes are salads, pick- les, candies and coffee. Their last ‘resort ts boiled beef from the home soup, bread and cheese. Among the solids, ham and breaded mutton chops are delicactes, and nameless dishes served with sauces. Here is the menu of an actual luncheon, all be- ing brought from home except the fried potatoes, which were fetched from round the corner. Bread 2 cents, a pickled her- ring 3 cents, fried potatoes 2 cents, a sweet cream cake 4 cents, a “chopine” of “abon- dance” 2 cents. The girl who can afford to eat her 11:30 a.m. breakfast chez le mastroquet, the grimy ccrner wine shop, ts more lucky. Calves’ lungs fried in red wine 6 cents, red beans cooked with onions 4 cents, brie cheese 2 cents, bread 2 cents and wine 4 cents. But each economizes 2 cents for her candy to be eaten in the work room through the afternoon. When there !s two cents more of surplus it will go for coifee, “black as death, as sweet as sin, as hot as the inferno,” as they say. It is so strong tt makes Americans sit up. The price of restaurant food within the reach of Paris working girls will give a seale to measure everything in Paris. The semi-benevolent “library restaurants,” an institution patronized by pious ladies, fur- nishes the follow- ing dishes, at a loss, to working girls and only working girls, while lending them improving books: Meat pie, with to- mato sauce, 6 cents; botled beef jardin- fere, 8 cents; beef- steak, 9 cents; egg- plant or tomatoes, 4 cents; poiato salad, 4 cents; rice pudding, 3 cents; smearcase dabbled with cream, 8 cents; strawberry preserves, 3 cents; Camembert «eese, 2 cents; bread and wine, 4 cents, and coffee, 2 cents. The por- tions are extremely small, as everywhere in Paris. So no comparison ought to be made upon the basis of the servings in America. It is an tmgroving exercise, however. to Tange thesa ices side by side with those given recent.? In Sertbner’s Magazine, to how how they arrange to eat in the Amer- an Girls’ Art Club of the Rue de Chev- izht in the heart of the Old Latin as the writer quaintly puts it— seeing that the Rue de Chevreuse lics quite outside the Latin Quarter: Veal stew, $ certs; beefsteak garni, 8 cents; mashed potatoes, 3 cents; salmon, 7 cents (!), and turkey h cranberry sauce, 8 cent: it is the miracle of loaves and fishes. The pious Paris ladies of the library restanr- ants cannot feed their working girls like cne of these. The workirg girl must eat hash pie at 6 cents, while for 7 cents the Art Club gives its daughters salmon. “For drinking purposes,” the writer says,“‘a bot- tle of vin rouge is kept on hand, each girl tying her numbered ribbon round the neck of the bottle. As it frequently lasts a week (the bottle, not the ribbon) her wine bill will represent lttle more than a cent a day." And yet the girls drink water “prac- tically never.” It is to be regretted, there- fore, that the price of stewed prunes is not given. Fer all of Paris the breakfast hour strikes loud fn their interior at 11:30. And even the lnxurfous feel an appetite un- known to Anglo-Saxons, glutted with the early morning meal. For those who can affor! it the “apert- tur’ — vermouth, ab- sinthe, amer — b: ings them to breakfast with their vitals still more pleasurably squirming. A brea! fast at the Cafe Riche Brasserie a place not absolutely first-class, though it costs enough—would] run as follows: Little radishes and Lutter, 15 cenis; half bottle of white wine, %& cents; filet de barbue with a crisp and mest dry cheese paste, 35 cent: “scrambled” with asparagus tops. 25 cents half a pigeon, 30 cents; salad, cents: cheese, 10 cents; coffee, 3 cents; cognac, 15 cents. Total, #183, plus 10 cents tip and 10 certs for the “couvert,” or the tablecloth and napkin. Or, if you lunch in a Duval, it might be shes and butter, 8 cents: half bottle of white wine, 12 cents; fried ng. 14 cents; sheep's feet in’ white sauce, 10 cents; green beans, 12 cents; ap- ple tart, 8 cents; cheese, 6 cents; coffee ard cox! $ cents. Total, 77 cents, plus & cents tip and 4 cents for the “couvert.” The only thing between the “mastroquet, where the poor girl eats, and the Duval Testaurants, is the “prix fixe table d’hote at 0 cents, with {ts (three) radishes or (one) “sardines,” its carafon of wine (to make yeu i), a doubtful fish dissimulated by sauce, or weary eggs, its “plate of meat (and often veal), its salac and its cheese. In any case the salads, cheeses, radishes, wine, coffee and liqueurs of the French breakfast serve to banish from the mind the actual dearness of good meat. Be sure the “beefsteak” of the Mbrary restau- rants’ of the Girls’ Art Club, as of the corner wine shop and the prix fixe table a@hote, is not a sir- loin, “It is cowflesh doubtless, pickled possibiy, and surely you can hold it in the hollow of your hand. The Duval restaurants, being a great corporation, butcher their own meat, and seck to make no prolit on their specialty of the “Chateaubriand,” a kind of tenderloin, and yet its price is twenty-two cents for a portion that would be thought very medium at home. The Cafe-Riche steak runs from thirty cents on up to anything. And this suggests a glance at raw ma- terial and its price. Very ordinary ham Is twenty cents a pound, mutton chops thirty cen rump steak, as tough as a bicycle, i tougher than horse meat, twent; eight cents; breast of veal, seventeen cents; veal ‘chops, twenty-four cents, and sirloin steak, forty cents. Mutton for the ragout is twenty cents a pound, and boil- ing beef is fifteen cents. Butter is from thirty-five to seventy cents a pound.- Some margarine is cheaper, while other mar- ri as delicate in flavor as the best of butter, brings high prices. Gruyere cheese is twenty-two cents a pound; it is t cheapest cheese. Eggs for boiling are forty-eight cents a dozen, eges fer melettes being thirty cents. An ordinary chicken costs ninety cents. All vegetables are primeurs in the winter, except the cab- bage, the potato, certain salads, carrots, turnips, onions and so on. Dried beans and peas are fourteen cents the litre, len- uls twelve cents and potatoes two cents, Salmon ts sixty cents a pound. By reason of these prices families of small means live carefully. There is a family in the house which I inkabit, father, mother, grown-up son and daughter, and their breakfasts and their dinners aver: them ‘ten cents apiece. No one in Paris can live cheaper, and few among the very poor live for the price. And many who have more to spend are on the poor list as “assisted families.” ‘These peo- ple choose to live In a good neighborhood and keep their pride; and that is all. ‘Phe ten-cent break- fast and the ten-cent dinner, which the mother and her daughter spend such ingenuity in getting up are thin meals at the best. A break- fast: Bread, eight cents; blood sausage and mashed potatoes, fourteen cents; sait and butter, four cents; macaroni with cheese, sixteen cents; total, forty-two cents, for four persons. Dinner: Pot-au-feu, eighteen cents; bread, eight cents; salad of white beans, ten cents; total, thirty-six cents. ‘The pot-au-feu is a meat soup (one pound of boiling beef at fifteen cents), with such stray vegetables as lic around the kitchen, and any other thing that you can find or buy for nothing—sausage ends, leeks, the water in which other vegetables have been cooked, and every kind of bone. Another breakfast of this interesting family—they drink instead of wine a light decoction of Peruvian bark (one gramme for each three litres cf water) boiled for an hour. Bread, efght cents; four small fresh mackerel, twenty cents; butter, four cents; rice cooked with lard, eight cents; the lard, three cents. Another dinner: Pea soup, five cents; ragout of mutton, twenty cents; noodles, eight cents; bread, eight cents; rice pudding, six cents. And all cooked at home. The price does not include the fuel, and it excludes the morning chocolate, made with milk, at three cents each; and it insists that both the husband and the son should come home for both dejeuner and dinner. The family is engaged in writing a book on how to eat two meals on twenty cents a day, in order that they may cease living at that rate themselves. ‘There might be other reasons given for the carefulness of all French cooking, such as high rents, the elevated price of fuel, by reason of the city taxes ($30,00),000 of rev- enue on food and fuel in 1804), the toy- house manner of apartment life, the unit of the franc (against the dollar of Amer- ica), and—qyite as powerful as all other factors—the sequestration of young girls. This last is most important. A French girl has little gayety until she marries. She is forbid to gad. She stays at home. ‘And so she learns to take an interest in the things of home. In all the higher primary schools for girls facilities are given for weekly in- struction in housekeeping and the cooking of all usual food. In the girls’ professional schools—of dressmaking, corset making, artificial flower making and so on—the course of cooking is compulsory, and it in- cludes a weekly visit by each girl—in vari- ous detachments day by day—to the great markets. The professors of culsine are named by the minister of public, instruc- tion. Each week eight students leave their werk and labor in the kitchen of the school. For a full week they only cook, prepare the vegetables and meats, wash up the dishes and the rest. And daily re- lays of the other girls are taken with them to the markets for an hour, while other relays watch them in the kitchen for an hour. The eight do not prepare food for these other xirls, but only for themselves. Because, to learn economy In practice, the requirements of a family must be well approximated.'Tnere- fore these cight young persons have each day a dollar ‘given to them to pro- vide a breakfast for ten persons—our old friend’s ten cents a meat—which is the Videal figure. You must know how to buy, as well as cook, in order to accom- plish such a magical erformance. At jorne in every book- case is the cook book. The cookery maga- zine—there are some twenty in wide cir- culation—comes as regularly as the illu: trated weeklies in good, middle-class fam! lies. And married ladies, well placed in a worldly way, run to the fashionable “‘cook- ery conferences” as they run to hear old Francisque Sarcey at the Odeon upon the drama, or as they ran to hear M. Bru- netiere at the Sorbonne on literature. “Byery young girl, rich or poor,” remarks Jules Simon of the institute, “should learn the cuisine; it is better than to learn to play on the piano. The poor should know how to nourish themselves in a passable manner on little money; the rich have need to eat brilliantly and yet not com- promise their health.” In time Americans may also come to look upon the mutton stew as the true besis of all feeding, on bread as manna, on salad as a substitute for separate vege- tables, on butter as @ costly superiluity, on cheese as a prime article of nourish- ment. It is a pieas- ure to think the time as not yet come. They tell you tnat a French family could live well on what an American family wastes. When I re- flect on that I think of a small comedy which I see night by night. I often find myself in @ beer res- taurant of barbaric splendor on the boulevard, also frequented by a little coterie of officers in mufti, who drink any quantity of coffee, while they chat of their exploits in the hunting field, preparatory to going at their game of dom- inoes. One has a hound dg, which he al- ways brings along. As that big dog runs round and round the restaurant his toe- nails make a sound like castinets. He sticks his nose into your lap—his hot nose, burning with a lust for bread, dry bread. His master, chatting always, follows him frcm out the corner of his eye. When sentimental ladies give the dog a bone or piece of ham a light of pleasure flashes in those eyes. He loves to see his dog fed; he appreciates the merit of the gift. If he had two dogs he would bring them both. STERLING HEILIG. _—_ Stocked. From Life. The Affable Stranger.—“I am a dealer in plumbers’ supplies, and I called to see if we couldn’t do some business today. The Polite Plumber.—“I'm afraid not, sir. I have all the bill-heads I can use for some time to come.” ARTIFICIAL GEMS Scientists Have Succeeded in Making Diamonds. ALSO SEVERAL KINDS OF STONES A Talk With Prof. Clarke of the Geological Survey. -_ COUNTERFEIT PEARLS Written for The Evening Star. Bes: LONG DIA- monds of marketalle size will be produced by artifice,” said Prof. F. W. Clarke, the chemist of the ge- ological survey, yes- terday. “EF think that the prediction is a fairly safe one. Al- ready we know how to make them, though only ver small ones. Mois in Paris, has manu- factured diamonds by melting wrought iron together with carbon and permitting the mixture to cocl very slowly. Under these conditions the carbon became crystallized. Simultaneously, Kroustchoff, in St. Peters- burg has got diamond crystais by a sim- ilar process, employing silver instead of iron. “These artificial diamonds are scarcely big enough to be seen with the naked eye, but they represent the solution of the prob- lem of crystallizing carbon. So much b: ing accomplished, it may be confidently e pected that crystals of greater size will scon be produced. It has been argued that in the laboratory the processes of nature can only be imitated on a contemptidle scale; but you must remember that crystals of carbon need not be very big in order to possess value as gems. Furthermore, chem- ists have already succeeded in making very large crystals of a great varicty of sub-! stances, some of them weighing as much as a pound. “It is easy to find out what any kind of precious stone is made of by the ordinary precesses of anoylsis. The problem, then, is merely to take the elements thus ascer- tained and put them together in the proper ery nature. Hew are diamonds formed in na- ture? Nobody knows with certainty, but a shrewd guess at it has been made. The greatest existing diamond field is in South Africa. in the earth seens throuch a surface |: out, as in the expe: Kroustchoft. They Make Rubies. “Rubies are now made by artifice, are just az handsome as genuine on. and, if it comes to that, it can harély be said that they are not genuine, inasmuch as they are of the same material. The only difficulty in the way of their manu- facture for market ts that people do not want them, regarding the interfoit. On that account Je for they can be ¢ by the microscope. Much hi about the ‘bubbles’ which they but the bubbles are microscopic ‘They stinguished ard rot interfere with the beauty of the gems. that has no flaws in it. “Of course, you are aware that rubies [* is almost imp: le to get a real ruby are today the mest valuable of recious, stones, far exceeding the diamond. A gem as big as a pea, of the jirst quality and of the true pigeor blood will fetch $1,000. Rubie: st cor- undum, which ts oxide of alum Sap- phires are of the same mat They also are imitated with success in the labor- atory. The process most commonly e¢m- ployed in the manufacture of rubies is to fuse together all ruby ‘sparks,’ which are cheap enough, by means of electri This work with rubies and sapphir been done by Fremy and Feil, in Paris. “Only a few months ago a Germaa chem- ist named Traube succeeded in producing beryls artificially, employing a roundabout process tpo elaborate to deseribe. Before long emeralds, which are merely green beryls, will be maaufactured. To obtain the proper green color is not a matter of serious difficulty. There is asingle crystal of beryl in the National Museum that weighs over 1,00) pounds. It has no gem value, however. Emeralds of a few car- ats’ weight serve well enough for purposes of ornament, it is needless to say. Some Other Gems. “The moonstone is a variety of feldspar. Fouque and Levy have reproduced feld- spars by artificial means, but they have not yet made any possessing the peculiar optical properties of the moonstone. These Froperties are due to the interna} crystal- Mne structure of the gem. It is the same way with opals. There is no difficulty in manufacturing the opal material, which is merely hydrated silica, but the peculiar cptical properties of the precious stone have not been imitated with success. The ‘fire’ of the opal is due to the interruption of light by the thin layers of which it is composed. “Chemists have known for a long time hew to make peridots. “Peridots are crystallized transparent olivine. They have learned also how to preduce garrets, though imperfectly. Half a dozen closely related minerals yield gar- nets. The most valuable ones are the green garnets from Siberia. It may be said in a general way that nearly all of the gems can now be manufactured in more or less perfection, though, as a rule, they are not big enough or fine enough to have commercial value. I have little doubt, however, the difficulties in the way will be overcome eventually by conducting suitable processes on a large scale with big apparatus.” In Paris artificial pearls are now made by a new precess. Beads are cut from real mcther-of-pearl shells, and these are coat- ed with silver, which gives them almost the same specific gravity as real pearls, while the silver lends a luster somewhat like that of a gray pearl. The familiar counterfeits known as Roman pearls are globules of glass, lined on the inside with @ substance obtained from fish scales. It is to this substance that the scales of some fishes owe their iridescence. Silver Rvrely Found Pure. Professor Phillips of Allegheny, Pa., has recently succeeded in obtaining wire silver by artifice. Hitherto wire silver has been known only in nature, and all attempts to reproduce tt in the laboratory have failed. In nature the most beautiful of white metals is found native and pure in only one form—that is—in the shape of what is known as wire silver. The latter is so called because of its peculiar appearance, somewhat resembling fine wires tangled together. Often It looks like moss. Con- siderable masses of it are sometimes dis- covered, the minerals with which it was or:ginally associated having been dissolved out and washed away by water, leaving~ chunks of the virgin metal. Frequently such chunks have been termed nuggets, but there is no such thing as a real nug- get of silver. Silver is exceedingly ready to combine with many other elements, such as arsenic and sulphur. Most commonly it is found associated with the latter, taking the form of a “sulphide.” Its affinity for sulphur is illustrated by the fact that it quickly becomes tarnished if exposed in the same room with the contents of an overstale egg, the decomposition of which sets free sulphuretted hydrogen. Lead has the curious property of dissolving silver. A combination of these two metals forms the most extraordinarily rich ores of Creede, Col., which were thrown up by volcanic ection many centuries ago. Owing to its affinity for other metals, silver differs remarkably from gold in that it is rarely found nattye or pure. Nowhere else in the world is it discovered so fre- quently in this condition as along the east- ern flank of the Rocky mountains. How it is formed in nature nobody knows. Pos- sibly some suggestion on this point may be offered by Prof. Phillips’ successful ex- periments. He makes wire silver artificial- talline form, imitating the methods of | There eruptive matter from deep } ly by treating a nitrate of the metal with hydrogen gas. Salting, of, Mines. The utilization ofjthe idea in the “salt- ing” of mines would ationce suggest Itself to swindlers. This’ dishonest business 1s still carried on to a very considerable ex- tent. ‘The gullibility of, the average pur- chaser of property of this kind is amazing. Mines have been salted’ on occasions with nalf dollars so imperfectly melted that the mint stamp was not wholly obliterated. From such crude methods the art advances to the highly scientific device of applying nitrate of silver in solution to the exposed surfaces of alleged ore bodies. The nitrate is mixed with salt, and is squirted upon the rock. ‘The salt precipitates the silver immediately, producing a very deceptive effect. > It may easily be imagined how wire silver produced by artifice might be employed to deceive buyers of mines. It is only in this form that natural silver is pretty to look at. Ordinarily the cre is without luster, and the richest of it has the appearance of blue sand. No person unacquainted with such matters would imagine that silver ore dug recently in Colorado and made to yield $12,000 a ton was worth carting away. It is for this reason that silver was so little used by the aborigines of this country. The ornaments of some tribes were oc- casionally covered with thin plates of the white metal, but knowledge of it was not general. The production of wire silver by artificial means is interesting only as a laboratory experiment. At all events, no cor mercial use for It has been suggested a aly RENE HE. cee eae Written for The Evening S| A RAINY DAY FUN SHOP. Some Lovely Nursery Amusements for Restless Boys and Girls. Every mother knows the trials of that day of downpour when restless babies drive her and nurse to the edge of distraction, and when all wonted diversions fail any longer .o amuse. Has that unhappy lady any idea that if she will send nurse down to the pantry for the box of old corks, which she thriftily lays away against time of need, woes will disappear as if by magic from the small bosoms, and so rapidly will the hours pass that there will be a cry of surprise when nurse comes to announce the arrival of sup- per and bed time. “Cork: the lady mother says. “What | on earth have they to do with keeping chil- 5 uses them to cork fretful mouths!” ad on the nursery table a big up naught First spr newspaper to catch all the esses that are » made. Next get a bo mucilage, a sharp pen knife, es, Bobby's box of wat: a hair pin or two, seme old v! he hion and a stout ed scissors. All the nursery ution will hegin te be interested at these preparations, and when they are completed chairs cen be drawn up all | reund and the announcement made that the rainy day amusen:ent shop is open for bust- ness. Perhaps the best thing to begin with is the cork ovt of the mustard pot, which is large and Snip the sulphur heads off le of good thick a box of color paints, of four mate! leaving them square at ends. the other ends a litle, rake fourt inci: h the per knife into | the under side of the cork, kk the pointed ends of the matches into these, and at ence the attentive circle about the table | t another litule table is | He o being. Cut out a circle i ci rd som at. la er than the . Paste it on top of the cork, and there stands a beautiful piece of | ursery carpentery; a table all complete. | A small sq cork with four short e bit af its of matches use S makes a goo% stool, and 1 the cork that once to stop the mouth of a little glass ar-and sticking fn four matches for » an the upner side for a| “k, with a bit of cork at the top of these, | ne has at once a Welightful chair to go | { i with the table and.stool—furniture which ne doll would be too proud to use. The next piece of manufacture might he a heau- 11 teetotum, and here Bobby's paints he- gin to come into pla: A Beautifal Teetotum, Cut a mateh in hal pen one end a little. Cut a thin slice crossway from a claret cork and stick the match through | the middle of it, pointed end first. Cut out | as the cork, and draw two Ines at right angles across the disk. That will leave It divided into four quarters and these qu ters are to be painted blue, yellow, green and red. Bore a hole in the center of the | disk and slip the blunt end of the match through it until the card board rests upon the cork. Next cut another, but rather thicker slice from the cork, bore a hole in the center and stick the blunt end of the match through, pr gs it down till it touches the card. This will leave about an inch of match to be taken between finger and thumb for spinning this fascinatingly beautiful teetotum. Cutting long slices through the middle of the corg leaves pieces, which, with the aid of Bobby's paints, can be turned into a beautiful set of dominoes, and by cutting out square pleces one can make a beautiful set of noiseless dice to be used with the backgammon board. But perhaps the nicest toy of all made in this nursery shop, which has for its sign, “Old corks taken in exchange for new play- things,”’ is the set of parlor croquet. To begin this heavy but fruiful labor, cut out eighteen small squares of cork. Hend into a curved hoop—a miniature of those used in lawn croquet—nine hafr pins; and these, with each end stuck into one of the squares of cork will stand upright and serve as table wickets for the game. Cut slices cross-ways from the vinegar bottle cork, and into the middie of each of these stick a match, whose end has been sharpened for the purpose. This can be painted around with rings of contrasting colors, as is done to the goal stakes of lawn crcquet. Nursery Croquet. Next, for the mallets hunt about in the cork tox for four small ones of even size— those from the small medicine phials serve nicely if they have not been stained by drugs. These, if a nice shape, need no cut- ting at all. Matches will serve as handles for these mallets, and a band of color must be painted around each so that players may distinguish thelr own mallets. Some nice large old sugar-coated pills would make beautiful balls for this nursery croquet, with a stripe of paint around each one, but if all the pills were given to Bobby the last time he ate too much cake and had a tummy ache, then fresh bread pinched up between the fingers, and then rolled on the table beneath one’s palm will make very good substitute balls and will take a stripe of paint quite well. By this time there is no more fretting in the nursery. The tools can be put away, the newspaper with the waste matches and bits of cork folded and thrown into the waste basket, the teetotum spun, and when they are tired of that’a game of croquet begun. The children have helped in all the precess of maufacture and have learned how to make the whole set of toys them- fseives. For many rainy days thereafter these will suffice, but when they begin to gall any ingenious mamma can show how to make others—chessmen, mice, ducks, cranes, hobby horses, even dogs and cats and men, if she has a little skill with paint brush and pen knife. ——>—_. To Make Sure. From Life. Dashaway.—‘‘You believe in the efficacy of prayer, uncle. But suppose a chicken from your neighbor's yard should hop by your kitchen door and you should get down on your knees and pray for that chicken to enter, do you think your prayer would be answered?” Uncle Ebony.—‘“I mos’ sartinly do, sah. But in dat case, sah, I should sprinkle a few grains af co’n on the step.” Fiom Life. got t'rough wid de turke; roun’ “Dey’ve Nelly, an’ now dey’re handin’ charlotte roosters.” | into the world. According to the coach- a circle cf card board four times as large | PRESIDENT’S HORSES Recent Additions to the White House- Stable. TWO FAST STEPPERS FROM KENTUCKY The Equipages in Use by the Presi- dent and Family. ABOUT THE STABLE ——— Written for The Evening Star. HE PAIR OF young thoroughbreds I which Mr. Cleveland a few weeks ago or- dered from Ken- \\ tucky have arrived \ at the White House stables. They are no- ticeably small, each measuring only fif- | teen hands one inch high, and look more like ponies than horses beside the other executive steeds, none of which stand less than s!x- teen and a half hands, Although they were “still in their nightclothes,” as the White Hous coachman expressed it, when the writer sent in his card to them the other morning, they appeared to be a very handsome patr. The nightclothes, which were heavy woolen blankets strapped around their bodies, when taken off made visible two well-shaped specimens of horse flesh, although the silky hair had not yet been brushed and combed for the day. Both are blood bays, and they are so nearly alike both in color and shape that they could not be teld apart, except that the left hind foot of one is adorned with a white overgaiter, which he wore when he came man, they have taken three first premiums at Kentucky state fairs, and are of the most aristocratic blue-grass lineage. They are both geldings, in fact, every occupant of the presidential stalls is a gelding, in- cluding the government steeds and Mr, Thurber’s private saddle horse. Each cf the newcomers has a record of three min- utes to the pole, which is considerably slower than several cther of the White House stock have been known to travel. But their attendant says that Mr. Cleve- land is not fond of fast driving, except when it rains, and then,he says, “he does like to hurry in right smart out of the wet.” When asked’ whether this team is to be used by the President cr Mrs. Cleveland, the same authority added t they are “for general “use. Mr. Cleveland has been driving behind them almost every ay since they arrived. In fact, according to William—for that is the name of the President's coachman—Mr. Cleveland is driving more than usual this winter, and this exercise, the faithful servant believes, has been the cause of his recent improve- ment in health, This acquisition increases the executive equine household to twelve inmates. Seven, including the new ones, are the private property of Mr. Cleveland. Of the other five, four belong to the government, | being furnished the private secretary for his carriage and for running executive errands. The other belongs to Mr. Thur- ber, who uses it almost exclusively under the saddle, Mr, Thurber bought his horse in Princeton, Ky., from the same dealer who furnished the new executive team, The Favorite Horses. At the beginning of the present admints- tration Mr. Cleveland brought with him from New York five herses, two blood bays and three light bays. Three of these, one blood and two light, are reserved for the executive carriage, or what might be called the “coach of state,” one of the latter being driven as a substitute. The remaining blood and light bays are known as Mrs. Cleveland's, and are usually driven to her phaeton. The new horses, according to William, have not yet been named, but will prob- ably be christened by Mrs. Cleveland be- fore very long. She has named ail of the | other horses, which appear to have two sets of appellations, one for the stable | and one for special occasions, William | calls them by such modest names as “Frank,” “John,” &c., and says that their best names are so long that he has really forgotten them. “frank,” the President's favorite, is the | off-horse of the executive carriage team. He is a seven-year-old light bay by Ham- bletonian, with white points, standing six- teen and one-half hands. Some years ago he trotted a trial mile in 2.40, and appears to yet retain his youthful activity. He is inclined to be restless, and is made to wear a leather muzzle, for he has been known to chew both his blanket and the woodwork of his apartment. During the writer's visit he was turned around in his box stall and stood glaring at his new neighbors across the stable aisle, as though sensible that they had taken his place in the prest- dential eye. However, William says he is very gentle, and drives to a double team with an easy : “John,” the “‘nigh’’ horse of the execu- tive team, is an eight-year-old light bay, also of the Hambletonian stock, and measuring the same as his mate. The odd horse is the largest in the stable, standing seventeen hands. He is a light bay (Ham- bletonian), with a star on his face and white points behind. Mrs. Cleveland’s pair, a blood and a light bay, are both seven-year-olds, and measure each sixteen and one-half hands. The Horses Are Kept Busy. In his first administration the President beught a pair of seal brown geldings, which were noted for their stateliness, and which, it is ‘said, were never subjected to a check- rein. Subsequent to their marriage, he gave Mrs. Cleveland a puir of golden sor- sels, which she frequently drove to her phaeton, her coachman occupying a seat behind. She has seldom been seen driving alone during the present administration, but generally accompanies the President in the victoria in winter or in the surrey in summer. When he left the White House six years ago Mr. Cleveland sold all of his horses, and aiso Mrs. Cleveland’s, to the highest bidder. One administration is gen- erally the limit of any steadily driven horse’s career on the asphalt streets of Washington. Although the presidential teams are con- tinually on the go, they are as well kept as any in the country. The President pays for the corn, oats and hay eaten by his private stock, and he is said to be a very generous feeder. Besides this he has to pay William, buy his-own carriages and keep up the necessary repair, all of which makes a good-sized hole in his moathly salary. ‘William ts a tall, well-built colored man, rather light and apparently about thirty- five or forty years old. He has an un- usually honest face, is very good-natured, though dignified, and seems to know every- thing there is to be learned about horses. His full name is Wiiliam Willis, and he has worked about the executive stables ever since the beginning of President Gar- field's administration, fourteen years ago, when he was taken in as an assistant to the veteran coachman, Hawkins. He drove for Col. Lamont, while the latter was Mr. Cleveland’s private secretary, and when Hawkins was retired and given a place as a messenger in the pension office, during Mr. Harrison’s administration, William succeeded to the most distinguished post which any American coachman can fill, He speaks to his horses as though they were his children. He says he has driven ever since he can remember, and that, al- though piloting some of the most spirited teams which have traversed the streets of the national capital, and, though so often responsible for the lives of many of our highest public officials, he has never yet met with an accident. He is his own veterinarian, and cures all aches and pains with his own hand. Coachman and His Assistants. The stable building, originally planned by President Grant, stands in the park back of the State, War and Navy Depart- ments, within less than a hundred yards from the White House. It is of pressed- brick, with mansard roof, and a small cupola rising from its center. A wide court, roofed with glass, forms the front- central portion, adjoining which are the stalls; to the rear, the President's carriage house, and harness room to the right, and the private secretary's carriage house and herness room to the left. In the rear of the carriage court William has-a private office, in telephone communication with the White House. His sleeping and living reoms are on the second floor, under the mansard roof. William jas four assistants, paid by the government, each of whom is given a spe- cial duty; one to clean the stalls, another to dress the horses, another to wash and brush the carriages and the other to scour and polish the harness. These are paid out of the $8,000 which Congress appro- priates annually “for the contingent ex- penses of the executive offices.’ This ap- Ppropriation is too meager to supply the services of a regular footman. When the presidential team goes out in full rig the place on the left of the box is filled by the colored man whose duty it is to wait on Mr. Cleveland’s private table. The executive livery is very elegant. In the winter season both William and_the footman wear long double-breasted New- market coats of cream broadcloth, adorned with plain flat buttons of solid silver. The pantaloons are long and loose, of the regu- lar civilian pattern. In summer this uni- form is replaced by a similarly cut outfit of bottle-green broadcloth. High black silk hats with the proper trimmings are, of course, worn on all occasions. There are five equipages in the Presi- dent’s private carriage house, a lanijau, a byougham, a victoria, a surrey and a phaeton. he landau is a substantial ve- hicle, elegantly upholstered and handsome- ly equipped, but exceedingly modest in de- sign. It may be drawn by either two cr four horses. The other turnouts are like- wise fine specimens of the carriage build- er’s art. The victoria, which ts the most used conveyance, is of the usual type. Mrs. Cleveland’s phaeton is of the spider pattern, with the “rumble,” or groom's box, in the rear. The surrey, Mr. Cleve- land's favorite summer carriage, is of the regulation style, with flat top and fringed trimmings. Horses’ Tails Were Trimmed. For all of these teams there are two complete outfits ef harness, one belonging to Mrs. Cleveland and the other to the President. They ere of the finest black leather, with solid silver mountings. The bridles are adorned on both sides with silver monograms, gracefully ‘nterwoven, those on one set reading “‘G. C.” and those on the other “F. F. C.” The bits are of raw steel, with three notches. After each usage the whole of the leather and metal work is carefully oiied and polished. The long lead-bar and chains, together with the other parphernalia which are attached to the landau when driven four-in-hand, are hung so as to forin a design against a piece of cloth fastened to the harness room wall. These have been used but twice, the first time on last inauxuration day and again during the Infanta Eulalia’s visit to Washington. The tails of all of the President's horses were trimmed a few weeks ago, and as soon as this new departure was noticed William was visited by agents of the local society for the prevention of cruelty to animals, who were prepared to make a protest. But they discovered that William had merely trimmed each cadaul append- age, without touching the flesh, so they went away satisfied. No one who has seen William in his sanctum sanctorum would ever suspect him of any cruelty. The only discipline which his dumb subjects know is kindness, and his scepter, which gfraces the whip slot of the executive carriage, looks as straight and as new as though it had never been bent. MONTE CARLO’S PATRONS. The Ludics Are the Most Profitable Customers at the Gaming Tables.” From the London Telegraph. ‘The English, the Americans and the French are probably the most remuner- ative patrons of Monte Carlo; and it is to Switzerland, and not to the frontier of Italy, that the vast majority of pleas- ure-seekers repair in summer. Again, at the very period when the Casino people wish to allure English visitors to the Riviera the London season is at its height, and the parliamentary session has as yet shown no sign of waning. The Atlantic steamships are bringing to Europe every | week shoals of American tourists; but our transatlantic visitors usually pass the summer in Londen or Paris, or at Eng- lish or French watering places, and wait cooler weather before they journey down south. Another suggestion made to the perplex- ed administration is that a club for the use of gentlenien visitors should be estab- lished in connection with the Casino, it being proposed to utilize for the purpose the premises of the Hotel Monte Carlo; but it fs difficult to see that the financial frosperity of the Casino Company would be increased by supplementing the exist- ing tripot with a club. Visitors who really belong to cosmopolitan clubland can easily become m.mbers of the Cercle de la Medi- terranee, at Nice; and, after all, it is not the serious players, the scientific operators at rouge et noir, who despise the merry but frivolous game of roulette, that are the most lucrative customers at the Casino. At trente-et-quarante it is really possible to win very large sums of money, not, in- deed, to break the bank—since Napoleon's dictum of the big battalions eventually winning still holds and always wiil hold good—but enough to cause theradministra- tion to close a particular table for a few hours, At roulette, however, for one win- ner of any censiderable amount there are possibly a hundred who, sooner or later, will be utterly and hopelessly decaves, or “cleaned out.” Moreover, in modern times it has been the lady punters who, in the aggregate, bring the greatest amount of grist to the mill of the Casino Company. It is not that the ladies often go to the maximum of stakes to be realized—they are in gen- eral too timorous for that; but they play recklessly, and they will continue to play until they have lost their last five-franc piece on the tapis vert, and a club from which ladies were excluded would be bereft of the contributions of the sex who are, as gamesters, not less adventurous and per- raps a little more incorrigible than men. - oo Written for The Evening Star. Ballude of Summer and Winter. @ouble refrain.) We are wooed by the birds and the flowers; We are won by the sweetness of May; We are grateful to linger in bowers Of the Queen of the Summer, so gay. But we will not our feelings betray, In a wearisome plaint, like the crow; No appearance of sorrow, I pray, To the King of the Frost and the Snow. "Tis the law of terrestrial powers ‘That the fairest of things should decay; But let grief be as brief as the showers Of the Queen of the Summer, so gay. Then a hand, as we meet on the way, Let us kindly extend to the foe. Let us greeting In heartiness pay ‘To the King of the Frost and the Snow. What if fiercely his countenance lowers ‘Neath a beard that is matted and gray. Does not beauty await thee in towers Of the Queen of the Summer, so gay? As of old, to the knight in the fray Did ¢his thought lend him valor, I trow, Be as valorous in spirit today To the King of the Frost and the Snow. ENVOY. 80, a wreath on the coffin I lay, Of the Queen of the Summer, 80 gay, While a kiss, with my fingers, I throw To the King of the Frost and the Snow. McELHINNEY. eens Poor Business Instinct. From the Cincinnat! Tribune. Irate Landlady—“I want you to take back that folding bed you sold me, and I want my money back. One of my board- ers smothered to death in it, and he owed me a week’s board.” Furniture Dealer—‘Madame, you have no business sense. lf you were in the habit of making your boarders pay a month i advance you would have been away ahead. ~--eee A Fatal Error. From Truth. Miss Backbay (of Boston at the tele- phone)—“‘Who is it?” Mr. Southchurch—“It’s me—your flance.” Miss Backbay (coldly)—‘You are my flance no longer. I cannot trust my Iife’s happiness tc a man who says, ‘It’s me.’ Farewell, forever!” FOR NERVOUS PROSTRATION, Hysteria, Brain Fag, Wypochondria, Nervous Dyspepsia, Melan- cholia, Locomotor Ataxia, Insomnia, Epilepsy and general systemle Weakness, TAKE CEREBRINE. FOR Functional and Organic Aifections of the” Spinal Cord, TAKE MEDULLINE. In Depression of Spirits and Melancholia, due to” a weak state of the Generative System, Impo- tence, Atrophy of the Orgaus, Spermatorrhoea, &c., USE TESTINE, FOR Functioaal Weakness of the Heart, re- sulting from genera! or local Nervous Debility; im Organic Disease, when the action of the Heart requires to be strengthened or rendered regula! Dropsy, Bright’s Disease and Anaemia, TAKE: CARDINE. In the latter condition Candine acts with great certainty in increasing the quality of the red blood corpuscles. FOR Myxocdema, Goitre, Eczema and Obesity, TAKE THYROIDINE. Women FOR Congestion of the Ovaries, Chronic Inflam- mation of the Ovaries, imperfect development of the Ovaries, Neuralgia of the Ovaries, Amenorr- hoea, Chlorosis, Hiysteria, Neurasthenia and dar- ing the Climactrie or change of life, TAKB OVARINE. Above are the indications for the use of THE Animal Extracts, Prepsred according to the formula of Dr. Wm. A. Hammond, In his laboratory at Washington, D. C. ‘The uniform dose of any of the Extracts is 5 drops (minims) two or three times daily. ‘The immediate physiological effects prodaced sre acceleration of the pulse with a feeling of fullness and distention in the bead, exhilaration of spirits, increased urinary excretion, atgmentation of the expulsive force of the Liadder and peristaltic ac- tion of the intestines, increase in muscular strength and endurance, inereased power of vision in elderly people, and increased appetite ard digestive power. PRICE (2 DR.) NOW ONE DOLLAR. FOR SALE BY ALL DRUGGISTS. THE COLUMBIA CHEMICAL ©O., WASHINGTON, D. C. Send for book. di5-stt FOIBLES OF FASHION. Valuable Pointers for Men Who Wish to Dress Properly. From the Clothier and Furnisher. For evening wear very little difference is noted in the coat from last year, the possible exception being made for a slicht shortening of the skirt and the same being a little less rounded. The cut of the evening dress vest Is a frequent topic for discussion. It 1s a noticeable fact, however, that but one general shape is shown for the winter of 1891-95, the tendency being toward the “V" effect. Trousers are made wider at the knee and narrower at the bottom, which is a stride toward the old-time peg-top. Fancy bosomed shirts, even with a single line of embroidery near the center, have long rested in obscurity. There is an effort being made in England to restore the piait- ed shirt, which, it is hoped, will fail. Nothing is so dressy as the plain bosom, with one, two or three studs, preferably two. Jewelry in evening dress should be con- spicuously absent, and what is worn should be of the plainest kind. Nothing shows ignorance of correct dressing plainer than a conspicuous display of jewelry, plain dull studs in gold, with cuff buttons to match, and, perhaps, a fob, which should be of black, twisted silk, being the iimit. Different authorities on evening dress, both here and abroad, agree on the straight high collar, with littie or no space in front. On this point an English writer says: “Of course, such a collar is a physi- cal impossibility to some men, and to them it is allowable to bend the points suffi- ciently to give comfort.” There is but one accepted cuff for even- ing dress, and that is the link. In point of artistic beauty this cuff supplants all others. Much has been said concerning the bow —whether the self-tied or the made-up ts the proper thing. The preference is for the former. In favor of the latter are the facts that few wearcrs are able to tie a respectable bow, and also that many of the made-up bows can only be distinguish- ed by an experienced eye. Semi-dress is covered by a variety of garments, any one of which may be con- sidered stylish. The two most prominent are the three-button cutaway of medium length, and the frock closed with three buttons. The correct overcoat is the long (not ex- treme) one, and may be either single or double breasted. We have heard some condemnation of this style, in which the authorities confounded the spring and winter styles. The light-weight coat will be shorter. In hats the bell crown with high, rolling brim, leads all others. We have noted an attempt to introduce the square-crowned derby, which is not meeting with popular approbation. see. Written for The Evening Star. Both Sides of a Question. “If I were a man,” Cried Pretty Nan, “a model my life on some nobler plan ‘Than seems to occur to the average man. I'd search the world over But what I'd discover Something grander, and better, than playing the lover To each pretty girl that can flirt with a fan, If I were a man,” Said Nan. “If you were a man, Pretty Nan, I fear you would find it a difficult plan To turn the world over, Make tulips of clover; For he who attempts it {s apt to discover He likes after all the original plan; And perhaps you would care Rather more for some fair, Dainty pearl Of a girl If you were a man, Pretty, Nan.” —KATHARINE HAMILTON. et These Slushy Days. From the Indianapolts Journal. “I want to see the Secretary of the Navy, said a wild-eyed man, who wandered into the city hall. Two policemen started toward him. “Oh, I'm no crank,” he explained. “I want the man they used to call the street commissioner.” ———_-e+—__ A Trifle Embarrasst From the Chicago Tribune. Acquaintance—“Mr. Bullion, let me in- troduce my friend Jones. I’ve just been telling him how you made your pile.” Mr. Bullion (slightly deaf)—"Glad to know you, Major Pyle. From Life. 3 — “Lock der door, Jim, an’ keep der perlice out; dis fight is a-goin ter be a record breaker!” 5