Evening Star Newspaper, March 30, 1895, Page 20

20 _ = THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MARCH 30, 1895-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES.- WOMEN AND - CANES Pauline Pry Learns How to Carry a Stick. A WALK THAT GOES WITH If —— Her Appearance on the Street! , Creates a Sensation. THE DIFFERENT STYLES Written Exclusively fo? The Evening Star. F YOU HAVE chanced to meet me on the avenue the past week you have doubtless exclaimed: “Upon my soul, she’s carrying a cane.” That, however, is incorrect. I carried a stick—I couldn’t bother with any- thing so American as a cane. We Enzlish—when I say “we English” I include not only natives of Great Britain, but those of us who are even more En- glish, though born elsewhere—we English women are carrying sticks—not of the La ‘Tosca order, but regular out-and-out walk- ing sticks. I first learned this from a Lon- don court journal, whose editorial columns I saw convulsed in an effort to settle whether women should or should not carry their sticks into the drawing room, when calling. 2 The matter was finally settled in a draw, thus—‘‘Bhere is no rule against taking a stick into a drawing room, though it is not allowable to take in an umbrella, and of course it is more convenient to have the hands quite free.” So much and no more did I know about the uses of a walking stick for women when I set out to possess one myself. On Her Trilby Feet. I went to the smartest silversmith’s in town and said I'd like to look at some sticks, and he instantly wanted to know whether it was for an old or young gentle- man. I gurgled a bit and told him I want- ed it for myself. Then being too polite to ask the question outright his sympathetic eyes merely sought my anatomy with the inquiry, ‘‘which leg and what is the matter with it?” Thereupon I stood up perfectly straight and strong on my two Trilby feet, silently assuring him that it was neither leg, and nothing the matter with me but a mild attack of anglomania running to sticks. “Now, what do you see in there that you fancy?” We were in front of a great rack full of sticks enough and of the right sort to drive a “Johnny” to drink with covetousness. I was simply dazzled and speechless, and the salesman went on: “You notice there are four distinct styles—the bulb, the root, the crook and the hook. The bulb rather took my eye—it’s the sort with the immense knot for a handle which Johnny puts in his mouth to keep him from telling what he thinks when he thinks he is thinking. The salesthan, how- ever, took down a crook rather lighter than the usual run and said, ‘This is a nice cane for a lady; but it’s a littie sporty.” There ‘were a jockey’s cap and riding whip deli- cately done.in silver on the stick, and after the first glance I just prayed ‘‘Lord, turn away my eyes lest they behold vanity,” and begged the man to put the thing out of sight before it got hold of me and car- ried me off to the races. A stick like that would be always loaded with the seductions of a long shot and the man with an “air- tight tip.” “This,” bringing down another, “is the latest thing—it’s called the Prince of Wales opera hook.” Of course that settled it. A stick by any other name, might be as well for Congress- men and what-not that is hopelessly Amer- ican, but for me to have a stick answering to the name of Albert Edward, it was quite like shaking his hand. “Don’t hold it as if you were going to let it drop,” said the salesman, as I toddled up and down the show room a time or two to kind of get used to it before sallying forth upon the street. “Here, let me show ou,” he said. “Grasp it like that, so that you can hit hard if you meet a dog.” “How about a man?” asked, and though the salesman did not answer, I had not gone a square on the avenue before learning that I had simply to carry the stick anyhow, for ev- ery man I passed seemed to be very hard hit indeed. Gad, but it was great! I soon struck a Piccadilly gait—such a perfect stiff-legged movement, with my head kind of reaching out for something gone before, from which my weary shoulders receded, my hand grasping the stick handle down very near the tip, my elbow crooked, and my shoul-. ders bumping in tune with my heels. My heart—yes, my whole box coat, was filled with pride and British impulses. I said “eyther” and ‘“‘nyther” without stopping to think, and when I ran against Beerbohm free on a bill board I exclaimed: ‘Ah, there, Burbum,” without any recollection whatever that only one short hour ‘before I was speaking his name as if an English name is sometimes spoken as it is spelled. But “the path of glory treadeth to the grave,” and nowhere else. When I emerged from an F street haberdashery and saw a man from the British embassy going along, not only just as English as. I was in the matter of walk and stick, but made perfect With the addition of a pipe between his teeth, I could only brush away my envious tears and think how little there is in the world for a woman, even when she has a great deal. Then, crossing a dirty strect, I encountered fresh woe, for I certainly lost all my style when I had to catch up my stick in my left arm acrass my waist, @s a womian carries a parasol, in order to pick up my petticoats. Another square, and the misery of being a misunderstood -soul, the misery a woman suffers realizing the hopelessly insensible clods most men @re. attempting to perceive our motives— all this was piled on my stick-ridden sen- sibilities, “Why on earth,” asked the man I met, “why on earth didn’t you have ’em send it home, or at least wrap it up for you? Awkward thing to carry where it is.” “It’s mine,” I said. “Yes, it is. Going to give it to him for @ birthday present?” “It's mine, I tell you,” I_ repeated— “mine and the Prince of Wales.” ‘The man looked at me hard, and, secing I was in earnest, said, with the tender frankness of a dear friend: “Look here, Pauline, it’s all right for girls—Gaiety girls, schoq! girls, and all that sort—to be cute, but for a woman of your years—” The wind caught the rest; I didn’t, but I @id walk around the corner on a quiet street, catch a cat and hit it. Talk about loving dogs when one knows men—how one may come to hate cats for the same reason! Naturally, this nasty fling at my twenty somewhat odd years made me feel wicked, and the longer I carried that man’s words m my erstwhile gentle bosom the wickeder got, till I sank so low-in depravity I locund myself swinging my stick, twirling it, and longing to have on a red tie and a striped shirt and a great big diamond pin, and say “See?” and be a swell in the Bowery. + It is wonderful the moral force there is in a walking stick. It can, by the angle it Sescribess attach gcod form to a person. can be positively indecorous in its move- ments. It can swear, and it can make ther people swear. I found this out when ? boarded a tram—you understand that earrying a stick street cars no longer é@xisted for me. As I stepped inside the tram, with my stick held, naturally, head down, it became necessary to “reverse arms,” in order not to sit with my stick point up in the air, and all the silver on the handle being scratched by the dirt on the floor, Executing this movement I .in- advertently knocked a woman’s hat over her eyes, and—to be sure, smiled when I begged her pardon, but the lie of that smile she’ll have to face on judgment day. It_was awful. Seated in the car, I experienced another difficulty. Nothing but the adoption of. bloomers or knickerbockers would permit me to sit with my stick in front of me, as. a man does. I tried it, and my assertive skirts forced the stick so far from me that in order to rest on it I had to assume an attitude full of imminent prayer or the fatal pain that is go sweetly, subtly ex- Pressed in the old; sad song of “Johnny Jones and His Sister Sue.” Thus did so many embarrassments accu- mulate upon me, I was impelled to*seek exact knowledge.of the art of carrying a stick —1 would learn how according to Delsarte, or I would quit. “For what reason do you use the my Delsarte. teacher asked — “For support or style “Style, strictly,” I answered. And then, in obedience to his orders, I set out to show my steps, with the stick head down, and grasped firmly as the salesman had charged me I should do. “You hold it badly,” said Delsarte. “It is not a bludgeon in the hand of a farmer. Take it daintily, thus.” ‘ I tried again, grasping it now with three finger tips and the thumb, my little finger crooked up in the pretty style much affected by company drinking tea. This style of grasp somehow lent more style to my arm, and as I did a few turns after this fashion, I felt lovely, and don’t mind saying that I believe I looked just as nice. “Now,” Delsarte resumed, “I wouldn't grasp it quite so close to the tip, perhaps— just a shade further down. There, that’s better. The-other is rather extreme—a manner affected by men who wear their ongers fourteen inches around the bot- pore That would never do for me, ‘certainly, so I gave another exhibition with the balance of the stick readjusted to'my conservative principles. “Let me see you walk with the stick on the ground?” said Delsarte. “Very bad,” he observed. “Notice; you hold the cane with the handle parallel with the line on which you walk—that is the way old men and beggars do. It expresses decrepitude, infirmity. Turn the handle = at right angles to your path. Now ry!” Presto! IL was going, airier than ever— airy and at the same time stately. In. the words of the poet, “At every step my ad- vancing head knocked out a star from heaven,” which, as it fell from its high es- tate, just looked at me and said, “‘No mat- ‘ll get a stick and star again below.” “I have a terrible time picking up my skirts,” I gonfessed to Delsarte, who answered, “That's very simple. Try this. Then I hung my stick on my wr:st as -he directed, trans- ferred my card case to the hand of the same wrist, picked up my skirts with the free hand, ard there I was, as artistic as I was altogether con- venient. Next I practiced getting my stick right end up on entering anywhere to sit down. This I soon was able to accomplish in six counts, to slow music, with a gentle flip of the stick, a pleasant passing from one hand to the other, and finally sitting, planting the stick at my side. When this Position became tiresome, with three counts and a waltz movement, I learned to shift it from my side to my mouth. This is the greatest happiness I have found on earth. To fill your mouth with the end of a cane several sizes‘ larger than your mouth is to make you feel just as asinine as you look, and you need not tell me that to be a fool is not to be blessed, for I have had the sensation, and I know all about it. “In resting on your stick standing,” said Delsarte, “be careful to keep the handle turned out. Very good, and now we might try a few of the sword exercises—you know, a stick is a jolly weapon of defense, used either as a foil or a saber.” Delsarte got his stick then, and we went at it, but the exercise of seeming to fight yeas so violent, I thought it rude for Miss Johnny, and I said so. However, I am prepared to defend myself from men or mice from this time on. Fortified finally with every flourish known to Delsarte in handling a stick,I set out fora matinee, and here the economy of walking sticks for women was demonstrated. Un- supported, a woman can never take stand- ing room only at a theater. I, however, now paid in the price of my little admission | ticket, and sauntered in on it. The usher couldn't possibly think I was too poor to pay for the price of a stall, when his eye caught the glitter of silver on the head of my stick, so, with respectful consideration, he left me to my own resources, and I stood through the first act, now attaining perfect repose, with the head of my stick in my mouth, and now resting against it, the handle, of course, turned out. At the end of the intermission I calmly and daintily took it as near the tip as good form would allow, and Johnnied down the aisle to a vacant chair I had espied in the front row. The usher was too much of a gentleman, and for that matter so was I, for him to think of objecting, so I sank gracefully in a seat for which I hadn't paid, while the band played the skittish strains of “I’m a Widow.” I am not, but for the nonce I felt just as powerful as one. ‘After the matinee I walked up Connecti- cut avenue, and the two pretty boys who xept in my train as far as the British embassy almost came to blows trying to fix which theater I am appearing at this week. However, when I_ appeared in front of the Brit- ish embassy, and the gold crowns on the lamp posts struggled to drop on my head, and the lions at the entrance roared in right royal glee, to see my style, the pretty boys gave it up, and reckoned I was the queen or Rud- yard Kipling in disguise. = While morally certain within me that my stick was a howling success, I never- theless wanted to prove it. A woman has just two ways of proving her success—by the woman she hates and by the man she loves. Accordingly, I paid a visit to my bitterest enemy, carried my stick into the drawing room, and she was silent and green. When your worst enemy bites her tongue and turns that color so far as she can discern you're looking very smooth—too smooth, in_fact. Then I walked down the avenue with the man I loved, and—well, I was instantly so ashamed of my stick 1 gave it to the man to carry, which demonstrates, you see, that after all there is a latent elemental unfit- ness of walking sticks for women, in the opinion of PAULINE PRY. oo Digging Gold to Get Money to Study. From the St. Louls Star Sayings. ‘A young English woman went to Colorado a few years since, an artist. Her etchings of western scenery were soon a feature of the curio shops. She found herself drawn into mining interests, and before she knew it had accepted the position of manager and secretary of an energetic company, and is today personally superintending the tun- neling, shaft sinking and timbering of an important claim in the Cripple Creek dis- trict, and most efficiently she does it. Two years-has she lived under the shadow of Pike’s Peak, up in that little sky village, driving over the hills each day in her cart behind her faithful ‘Tommy whom she feeds and grooms with her own hands. “I shall make a success of this business by the end of five years,” she began. “And then?” I asked. “Then?” She looked at me, her clear blue eyes ali ashine. “Then! Back. to art and study. Money enough then to go to Paris and to Rome, to make one’s self and what- lent one may have, all that can be We both turned involuntarily to- ward Beacon Hill, as the sun was leaving its benediction upon it in the flush tints of its setting. “It is all there, you know, the precious gold, locked up in the heart of that old hill, and I must find it. That is my work just now.” A Good Reason. From Life. ‘Willy—‘T hear you have been a good deal conned lately. What was the cause of it?” Wally—‘T didn’t have ten dollars.” ILLS OF ANIMALS They Have Physicians and Are Doc- tored When Sick. CATS, DOGS AND THE NOBLE HORSE How They Act When Under the Doctor's Care. SURGERY AND MEDICINE Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. ATS, SAID AN EX- pert on the diseases of animals, “are very hard to treat, for the rezson that they be- come home-sick and droop, more from that cause than ac- tual filness. Colds and indigestion con- stitute four-fifths of feline troubles: and if a cat is given chloro- form, it never rallies. -Rab bit-s take cold very easily, and have little stamina to re- sigt disease. Pigeons are brought to me sometimes for'sore feet, from treading on sharp cr pcinted substances; or like chick- ens, they scmetimes get the pip, which Is but another form of indigastion. You treat them by putting the medicine in their focd. 1f the roosts are kept comparatively free from vermin, there will be less disease -among the feathered pets.” “How do you diagnose cases?” I asked. “Much the same as in human beings; listen to the breathing. If a dog or a horse has preumonia, which !s as prevalent among them as with us, it will have all the symptoms of a human’ being; labored breathing, coughing, and the various signs by which we know exactly where the trouble lies.” “Do they make trritable patients?” I queried. “Not as a rule,” he replied. “They real- ize that you are trying to help them, and if you go to them, and speak kindly and pat them a few times, you gain their confi- dence and can readily manage them. A dog does not get as homesick “s « cat, for he will play with other dogs as soon as he begins to improve. This is one of the most useful of cur instrument he continued, taking from the case a pair of blunt scis- sors, curved at the end very like the nail | selssors used by manicures. “This is to take a bone from the throat. You hold the dog’s mouth well open, and this instrument reaches down into the larynx, thcn you can easily loosen it and remove it. We have many cases when a dog is vronght almost choking to death, ard a very few maments suffice to relieve him.” ‘ The AMictions of Dozs. “Do dogs really suffer with toothache?” I asked. “Very frequently. For that reason we always examine the meuth first. A dog will submit very patiently to having a tooth draw is the only remedy.” Con- tinuing, he called a silky little skye ter- rier, and opening its mouth he showed me, on the outer gum on the right side, a kind of little sack, or perhaps it migantr be called | a fold of flesh; but tt looked lke a little pocket in the gum. Into this the medicine is put; and the mouth held tightly closed till Mr. Doggie has to swallow the noxious dose. 4 “These poor creatures have rheumatism, and all the diseases of the eye and car even that humanity ts heir to, and the purer the breed, and the more delicately they are reared, the wider becon.es the range of these troubles. At times they be- come the victims of chorea, which corres- ponds with our fashionable nervovs pros- tration. There are dogs that beceme abso- lute dyspeptic wrecks, with colic, cramps and all the variations of indigestion. “The subject of an interesting case treat- ed here,” said the docter, “was Ajax, the prize winner of the Philadelpnia Kennel Ciub, who died here scme ti was over fourteen years old, ef dropsy. By making un ine! he said, “the affected parts ed and the After a few tappings, Ajax realized Hef and would moan piteously wher he wanted the operation repeated. Toward the last this became necessary as eften as seven or eight times a day. ‘Regarding broken bones,” he said, “they are set and immediately incased in pilaster of paris, which hardens, and while surgery has not made as much progress as the actual study of medicine, yet it is not at a standstill. The medicines and the quantities given a dog are almost identical with the treatment of human beings. Large dogs are usually more amiable, little ones snappish and pugs of any size sluggish and stupid.” = Accidents to Horses. __ “Now, tell me about horses,” I said. “Can you set thelr broken bones? “Very rarely,” he answered. “If.a horse meets with an accident of that kind it is more humane to kill him at once; and many people, if they love a dog or a horse, prefer to have us Kiil it with anaesthetics. If a horse could be suspended long enough for the bones to knit tegether recovery might be successfully accomplished; but a horse has very little vitality in proportion ' to its size, and would not live under the heroic treatment necessary. If he did it would leave a lump or blemish that would not only be unsightly, but would detract materially from his value. With a horse, as with a dog, we first examine the mouth. When an animal refuses his food it brings on indigestion and its attendant ills. A horse’s teeth often become very sharp and cut the tongue when masticating. He then swallows his food whole, which, as we say, of course, does not digest. When we fin this to be the trouble we file the teeth.” He took from the case an instrument about eighteen inches long, having at one end a file about an inch wide gnd about three inches long, which, he safd, was used for that operaticn. ~ “Do they submit quietly?” I asked. “Much depends on the disposition,” he re- plied. “Often we have no trouble; at other times the teeth are decayed and we draw them.” The Instruments Uscd. A set of murderous-looking forceps em- phasized the statement. ‘Then he explained another instrument, with a handle like a corkscrew, only instead of the spiral screw it had a round, open knife about three- fourths of an inch in diameter. “This,” he explained, “is used when a horse has had 2. fall, and a portion of the bone leading from the eye to the nose is indented. We take this and by a quick blow cut a hole through the lewer section of the bone. In- to this orifice we insert a probe, and gently raise the injured part into position; then the piece first cut out is reinserted. In a week or ten days it is reknit and the horse is as good as ever. “Washington is harder on horses than al- most any city I know,” he continued. “The asphalt pavements do not give, and a trot- ting horse throws his feet in sich a man- ner that the shoulders are so strained that they are sometimes entirely out of posi- tion, and he is unfit for service. In such cases the only beneficial ccurse is to take oft the shoes, turn him into a good pasture and keep him there until time and rest ef- fect a cure.” “How do you give them medicine?” “We fix it into what we call a belus. It is cone shaped, about three inches long and round in proportion. We open the horse’s mouth and put the bolus deep into the throat. You must be sure that he swal- lows it, for if he gets the chance he will eject it.” z —>__ His Point of View. From the Boston Bulletin. “Bay, Jack, what is the capital of Switz- erland?” Jack (who has just returned from abroad) —‘Why, the money they get from travelers, of course.” ——____+-e+-—___ A Big Girls Privilege. From the Boston Home Journal. Fanny—“Mamma, Tommy can. stand on his head so nice. May I stand on my head?” Mother—“‘It is not nice for a Uttle girl to stand on her head.” Fanny (with a sigh)—“Then I suppose I'l have to wait until I am a big girl.” - find SEA ISLANDS DIALECT. A Specimen of 9, Fast Disappearing . > Form of Speech, ‘There is one kind'¢f'rlegro dialect which is becoming very rate Jp this country, and in fact is seldom jpeagd beyond the sea islands of the coast wf South Carolina. This is the dialect Sfthe desceridants of the Guinea negroes*4 it contains many peculiarities of exprpsgion. Ambrose Gon- zales of South Carolinag who was raised on a tide-water plantaffoig has made a study of this dialect’ and *refders it with close imitation of the regi. Here is one of his stories, published in the Columbia State: loose-jointed youth, of a raccoon, and fro-American lazi- ness. In color he was ai chinquapin brown, or as the Lands on the: plantation called it,-“a bay kind of ‘higeah, sub.” With the arrogance cf the copper-alloyed negro he looked down upon the garker hued members of his race. z He was employed in"doing odd jobs about the plantation, and gne day was coming over the railroad crossing on his way from the “big spring’ balancing a bucket of water upon the hatless crown of his woolly head, when, a3 he paused to lock up and down the Ines of glittering steel rails, ostensibly to see “wedder de shoo fly train dey on time,” he caught sight of a rival and enemy, Paul Youngbiood, a thick- set, bullet-beaded black, a year or two old- er and many pounds heavier than our hero. Putting down his bucket and lounging t ward the rew-comer, who had paused at the crossing, Alrred demanded: “‘Paul, wat you teil Pink ‘bout me to de settin’ up las’ Sattyday rite “Tell w'ich Pink? “Aun’ Sarah gran’daater Pink. You know um_ berry well!” Vho ie you 1 know she?” ~ f you ain’ know ‘um you ‘quaintan’ ell, ef I is "quaintan’ wid ‘um I neb- Num nutt'n.” : ju tell um dat I ‘could’n’ specify.” tell you I tell “um?” ‘Eizzybet’ tell me.” > Wich "Lizzybet’ dat?” fame ‘Lizzybet’; you mus’ be fool, en- Don’t you cuss me a fool.” “I cuss you a fool, yaas, en’ I cuss you Le, en’ I cuss you a niggw “Ef you cuss me a nigguh, you self is a nigguh!” “Who—me? “Bipp:” Alfred took a heavy lightwood knot from a pile of engine wood near by and brought it down with a whack on the thick skull of his opponent. The blow aign’t seem to trouble the recipient much, and he stood looking dazedly at his as- sallant until the sight of his own blood trickling dewn on the planks reminded him that he had been despitefully used. Seiz- Alfred suddenly by the ears he buted him full in the forehead and the two skulls crashed together with a sound Ike the coupling up of freight cars’ with automatic bumpers. The battie was a short one. Al- fred fell to earth end was soundly belabor- ed before I couid make the now thoroughly d Paul den the fight. cw, Alfud!’ suid his coiqueror, done bruk yo’ mout’, you is sat'sfy, enty A’fred rose from the fray with a tri- umphant face, “head bloody, but un- bowed.” “N'mire,” said he through his swollen lips as he tocx up his burden and moved slowly away. “Anyhow, I git een de fuss’ lick! “y is, ————_ +e + GRASS LAWN ON A PIG. An Enterprising Muscum- Manager Makes Money @at ef the Sehemc. New Orleans Correspofidén # Phila la Times. For the insignificgnt sum of 10 cents the curiously inclined might have the privilege of seoing during an§odayof lact month in a littic museum way*@ewn in the French quarter no less a curio Ehan a hog sporting a complete and hong, fide crop of grass all over his body “inde-place whar de ha'r ovght to grow.’ abe gear The animal,appeated $o be a..well-grown nine or tea months shoat of the Essex reed, with the usual-Ufoad).back, chubby neck and short legs, bu€%rom the tip of his nose to the end of His.tail he was bristling with as perfect a crép'6f fresh green grass as Fe finest lawn mhixtute’ is warranted to duce. ‘ The exhibitor fro! stray bit of tinfe time clipped a Brass from hog’s '4bundant crop and sed it'aroudtt for inspection. I am willing to testi¥¥ on Oath that it was the genuine articic and no mistake, and the | more I gazed the more the wonder grew | that one short hog should wear so strange | a hue, till finally my curiosity got the bet- ter of my purse strings and I chipped in with some gthey,fellows and go3,;the man | to let us on to the fake. “Easy enough explained,” said the ex- hibitor, as ke began to spray the ated grass plat with a smal rubber bulb which | he neld constantly in his hand. “Just step | behind here and take a close lock at the hog. Mind how you handle him, though, er you may break him all up. Seems to be a pretty good thickness of earth ‘twixt him and the grass, don't there? Yes. Well, that’s just it. Grass gtows in dirt and no- where else, so all yeu've got to do is to get enough of it:to stiek to a hog and he will MAKING A BILLIARD BALL. From the Tasks of Ivory to the Fin- ished Product. From the Globe Democrat. - When in the factory, the tusks are care- fully examined by an expert, to detect any possible flaws or cracks that may exist, for, besides the dangers to the ivory from careless handling while in transit, the orig- inal possessor of the ivory is by no means so careful of kis tusks as he ought to be, considering their value, and with the ut- most disregard of the precious material of which they are composed, uses them for fighting, for uprooting small trees and shrubs, for overturning stones, avd for grubbing in the ground without any very definite purpose that is apparent to the human observer. Of course, he often splits his tusks, and a very minute crack, hard- ly discernible to the eye, will seriously im- pair the value of a long and beautiful piece of ivory. If the crack is extensive the tusk must be devoted to another pur- pose than that of making bill‘ard balls, but supposing the tusk to be found perfect, it ts passed on to another expert, who measures ft and marks it at proper dis- tances to be cut into blocks. i It is then sawed into lengths of 2 1-2 to 3 inches, according to the size of the balls to be made, and the resulting blocks are passed on into the hands of ‘the turners. Turning lathes of unusual accuracy and delicacy are pvt to work and the ivory ‘sawdust begins flying in all directions. Not to he lost, however. Ivory is too precious to be wasted. Every speck of the dust is’ carefully gathered up at the end of each day’s work. When a sufficient quantity hes heen accr:mulated. it is treated with chemicals and by means of a peculiar ce- ment and the use of a hydraulic press, is molded into a comnict and apparently homogeneous mess. From this are manu- factured many small articles which pre- sent all the appearance of ivory and are in reality such, though not in its original state. Cutting the Ivory. On account of the value of the material, the utmost care is used in the cutting, and the cylindrical shape of the blocks enables an economy that would not be suspected. Every one has seen ivory martingale rings, but every one does not know that these ceme from the two ends of the ivory block that is being turned into ‘shape for a bil- liard ball. They are cut out with as much care as the ball itself, and afterward rounded and polished with the same scru- pulous attention. The ball itse!f, after being roughly turn- ed, is laid aside for at least six months -to season and harden, for the ivory, when freshly cut, is very scft, or, at least, very much softer than it afterwards becomes, and when the seasoning is pronerly ef- fected the turning is completed and the polishing, at first by a verv ingenious ma- chine, is continucd with prepared chalk ard finally completed with the bare palms of the operator. The ball is now finished, ‘80 far"as the mechanical processes of mati- ufacture are concerned, and passed on to the wholesale and retail dealers, but the risk is by no means erded when the work is dore, for fow materials are so sensitive to atmospheric and temperature changes as ivory, ard at almost any moment the ball may become lessened in value by the ap- pearance on its surface of tiny cracks or flaws. If these’are superficial they impatr only the locks of the ball, but sometimes they extend far into the interior and the ball will then break in two or chip with rough usage. The Verious Grades. Dealers classify the balls in several ways, the balls that are cut from the pure ivory, all the enamel of the tusk being removed in the process of manufacture, being deem- ed the most valuable, next coming those which have a small portion of enamel left, which does not impair the elasticity of the ball, but only its locks. The balls that show surfece cracks during the process cf seasoning are the lowest in price. The cotoring Is done with aniline dyes, and ad- se is taken of the surface of the being thus concealed, to utilize “hal? or enzmel balls and “checked” or balls for coloring, while clear” balls are used as the With care, ard an occasional ciling, a set of good balls may remain in vse for several years, but there is no tell- irr what may happen to the whirline spheres, for a set of apparently first-clas halls will sometimes become cracked, chip- ped and worthless at the end of a few weeks. Interesting as is the natural history of he billiard ball, its romance is no less at- tractive. A product of the most intelligent of animals, grown in the wilds of a tropical forest, talen by the wily devices of savage men, tratsported many hundreds of miles on the shovlders of hapless slaves, the ob- ject for which battle and murder are done, carried round the globe by sail and steam, manufactured into proper shape by the labor of skilled mechanics, the means by which professional players gain their livell- hood, by which amateurs pass a social hour in the billiard hall, on the private table. otten at some period of its career in the pawn shop, finally, when its useful- make you about as good a lawn as you'd anywhere almost. at’s straight so far as it goes, but, of course, there is a good deal more to it be- fore you can work up stch an article as this here. In the first place, you've got to get the right kind of a hog. I generally use a Berkshire or an Essex because they are good and broad and you can feed ’em up to be pretty lazy. This is a necessary qualification, of course, as a frisky hog is not liable to hold mud, or water either, long. The next step is to get the right kind of soil. “Now, I always use dirt collected from ant hills, but this Is an old dodge borrowed from the east Indian jugglers. Scientists say that it 1s the formic acid in earth which causes seed to burst. This acid is freely generated by the ant. Pour a cup- ful of hot water over a handful of the in- sects and i wili become as sour as vin- egar. SAWell, that’s the scientific part of the brsiness, and I know I obtain the best re- sults from ant hill dirt. “Of course, it is easy enough to get a layer of soil about an inch thick caked on a hog, and a little training will teach him to keep it there all right. I put a ring in this fellow’s nose and tle him up short so that he can’t skirmish around, and that’s about all. I plant my seed, which sprout and come up in about a week’s time. So there’s your hog as big as Hfe and as green as grass. “T have several hogs, which I use at dif- ferent times, as {t would not do to keep one with his pores stopped up too long. Sometimes, too, 1 vary the monotony by planting small, low-growing flowers instead of grass, and once I rigged up a vagary with a sprig of smilax for the tail, little coleus plants making the stars and stripes on either side, and_a rdzor-back of pansies running between. But that did not go very well. The fake was too obvious, and I lost trade by it. Since then I have confined myself almost entirely to grass, which seems to go somehow; perhaps owing to the general greenness 6f the public.” _—— ¥@0 4 Dog’s Respolise ‘to a Taunt. From the Boston ‘Trandéript, ‘ A dog story has,come to the writer's ears which, though hot ‘Within his personal knowledge, is vouched to him in an en- tirely trustworthy Wey, A certain dog, which was growing old, Was in a barn one day with his maste}. The two were up on a haymow from which a sloping ladder led down to the barn,floor. The master walked down the ladder, but the dog went around by another? way. When the dog reached the barn floor’his master began to say to him someWhat'tauntingly: “Poor old fellow! Daren’t walk down the ladder any more! Daren’t Walk“down the ladder!" Whereupon the dog, with a quick glance at his master, wal up the ladder to the top and then turned around and walked down it again. The proceeding looked very much like a deliberate demon- stration on the dog’s part, to his master, that he was still capable of walking up and down a slanting ladder. Did the dog understand the taunt, or did he merel; catch the words “down the ladder,” ani take the utterance for a com: which he dutifully proceeded to obey lo one will ever know, probably, since the dog himself can give no account of the matter. ——_—_--e<—____ Nervous. From the Detroit Tribune. Bank president—“You'd better investi- gate the third assistant paying teller.” Cashier—“Have you reason to suspect him?” “It may be only thle imagination, but when I spoke to him morning he seem- ed short in his replies.’ ness as a billiard ball is ended, to be cut up into toys, there are few articles of ordinary use, even in the miast of our extraordinary civilization, that can show a more varied history. ——+ 2 +—___ MENTAL TRAVELERS. They Manrge to See Much of the World Without Leaving Home. From the Pittsburg Dispatch. “You would be surprised at the number of mental travelers that are in a commu- nity,” said a railroad man yesterday. “I mean people who travel only in their minds; who, to indulge this mania, make a collection of railroad literature, such as is issued in time-tables, excursien books, pamphlets, etc. You have often heard fieo- ple talk knowingly of a place which you may have the best evidence that they have never visited. They can discourse fluently upon the hotels and principal sights of the city, even tell you of the trains and the connections they make, or describe the small stations through which they pass gcing there. If you have ever known a man or a woman like this, then you have met a mental traveler.. He might also be dubbed the railroad literature fiend, as this is the title by which he is known among the employes of a railroad office, who look no further into the motives of men than the surface. “We have hundreds of such men and womén who come to the office after every. piece of literature the railroad prints, from the local time-tables to the book de- scriptive of a southern or western jaunt. ‘Their thirst for this kind of literature can never be satiated; it seems to have the same influence as alcoholic stimulants—the more they get the more they want. We have men who are employed in leading po- sitions in banks and business houses who ccme to us daily with the question, ‘Any- thing new out?’ When the people live in the city they usually call upon us daily, but when they reside in the country their visits are at longer intervals. “We have one old man who comes from ‘Westmoreland county, who never fails to appear upon the same date of each month. He seems to revel in going through the large batch of time-tables and books that have accumulated since his last visit. He never varies in his mode’ of procedure. After supplying himself with a sample of each one, he comes over to the window, and, with his face wreathed in smiles, in the intoxication of his delight, he says, ‘How're you, anyhow?’ “After being assured that our health still permitted us to continue at our business, he always asks, ‘Well, kin you tell me how much’s the fare to Boston?’ “When this information is given he in- variably remarks, ‘Well, that’s gol darn ‘cheap, that is.” “Then he lapses into a thoughtful mood, from which he breaks by making the as- sertion, ‘Confound me, I'll go down there next year.’ Then, picking up his grip, he starts off, and we do not see him for a mon He has been going to Bos- ton ‘next year’ to my own knowledge for aix years. “These mental travelers get more satis- faction out of their wanderings than the usual tourist of the day who trav- els not to learn, but to kill timé. One man told me that he had never been to Wasfi- aes in his life, yet he was as familiar ith the getting there and the city itself as if he had lived his lifetime there. He can talk about the streets and num! and can direct people from one place to another with more accuracy the av- erage Pittsburg policeman os give yor and gets it information about his town, trcm railroad literature. You watch the time-table racks of a station and notice what a high class of people these mental travelers are.” a end chamois, then with the leather alone,’ WORKED THE GRAND ARMY. He Had Lived in Boston, Where He ® Pied His Trade. Frem the Springfield Republican. The Grand Army men have finally dis- covered: that “‘Col.’? William Allen Hunt- ley Sillowaye, the Boston alleged ex-vet- eran, who claimed to have saved the life of President -Lincoln, is a rank impostor, and he has been permitted to leave the State. He was forced into a corner and compelled te own up that he was a fraud and a beat. It is a pity the fellow was not prosecuted, if that were possible, but the publication of his deceptions may pre- vent further’ operations on his part. The Republican, in common with most of the newspapers in the state, had been imposed upon by Sillowaye. His mode of operat- ing was-to write letters to newspaper of- fices purporting to come from disinterested Parties who had discovered a brave veter- an soldier in great-need who deserved help from the public. Then Sillowaye’s ficti- tious career, as he gave It, would be told over again in the paper addressed, and generous ‘assistance would follow. He told a very picturesque story, with an En- glish background, winding up with a yarn about his service on the steamer. Brooks, ce as a dispatch boat on the Potomac in His Cock-and-Bull Yarn. It was then that he depicted his service in saving Lincoln as follows: I remember perfectly well the day that we-had Lincoin on board the Erooks. He had been down to City Point and was com- ing back with us. We were’running by Point Tobacco, when a confederate battery opened fire on us,.and whiz came a shot through our port paddies. There was no more turning of that wheel. The steamer stopped and began to drift. We could see them on the Virginia shore preparing to get a boat off to us. Capt. Brooks, our commander, did not know what to do, when I came on deck and said to him that we must get the President off at all hazards. I said I would go if we could get a crew. We were none to soon. The captain agreed, and a boat was manned and shoved off from our vessel. It was dusk, and the crew with their precious charge were soon lost in the shadows hovering over the river. They landed Mr. Lincoln in safety on the Maryland shore, where he remained in se- curity until he could be transferred to Washington. The confederates boerded our vessel and demanded the President, whom they swore was aboard of us. They searched every nook and corner, and, not finding him, vented their wrath upon sick and disabled soldiers whom they found on board, finally leaving the ship, swearing vengeance on the north. z Then, with my crew fully armed, I rowed President Lincoln up the river until we were met by a tug, and we transferred him to the safer crafi. He wrote me a let- ter after it, and thanked myself and my men for what we did. My daughter has got that letter now, and nobody will see it until after I am dead. Secretary Stan- ton wrote me:. “The President believes that you, under the guidance of Rrovidence, saved him from capture, if not instant death, and has ordered that special record be made of your service upon the records of. the War Department; and that when peace agein comes to our land, you will surely be rewarded.” Begsged a Living. The Boston Globe tells this story of Sil- lowaye’s exposure, as follows: For years this man has been living on the Grand Army posts of this state, and has re- ceived hundreds of dollars from individual members of the Grand Army. He also “worked” philanthropists who had no con- nection whatever with these organizations. Although the members of the Grand Ar- my did much for this man, he was always railing” against the injustice that the old scldier was subjected to both by the state and national governments. Columns and columns about the bravery of this man have been published both in the Boston and New York papers, and he was looked upon as a much-abused man. Many posits attempted to Investigate his case by writ- ing to the department at Washington for his record, but they were always unsuc- cessful, and the case was allowed to drop. He was a voluminous writer, and when- ever he goes short of money he would write to some philanthropist saying he was in a starving condition, also to the daily papers asking that a reporter be sent down to interview him. To the latter he would tell a pitiful story, which would in- variably get irto print, and for several days a perfect avalanche of provisions would be sent to the “deserving veteran.” This contirued for years, and the people of Boston and vicinity became tired of these appeals, and many declared that it was time that the Grand Army men did some- thing to secure a pension for the olé man. How They Caught Him. With this in view, Assistant Adjutant General Moore of the Massachusetts de- partment went to work to investigate the “cofonel’s” case, but he could find no rec- ord of a man by that name enlisting in either the army or navy. When told of this Sillowaye acknowledged for the first time that he enlisted In the navy under the name of William Huntley, first assistant engineer of the United States steamer Prin- cess Royal, commanded by Lieut. Worden. This steamer was takenjoff Charleston pre- vious to 1863 in attempting to run the blockade. She afterward reverted the federal government, and served many engagements. It was on this ship that “Col.” Sillowaye said that he served from February 14, 1863, to October 28, 1865. This record was found to be correct, but the trouble was the investigators did not believe that Sillowaye was the man named, and so it proved, for two men who served on the Princess Royal were found in Bos- ton, and he was confronted by them at de- partment headquarters. One of the com- rades wag an officer on board the steam- er, and also was a personal friend of the real William Huntley. He told in the pres- ence of Sillowaye, John E. Gilman and sev- eral other comrades, that William Huntley was an Englishman, and was the engineer of the Princess Royal whey captured, and was taken prisoner. He waS willing to join the federal forces, and was appointed, after the Princess Royal became one of the United States navy, as assistant engineer on the date above named. He served until October 28, 1865, and died the following year. Broke Down. This startling evidence broke the “col- onel” up, and he weakened. He confessed that he was a fraud, and wept like a baby. He begged to be allowed to go, and prom- ised to leave the state. He was asked if it was really true that he saved the life of President Lincoln. He declared that he did, but when asked to swear it he refused. An affidavit was drawn up as follows for him to sign: “I hereby declare that I was one of the crew that rowed President Abraham Lincvln from Tobacco Point to the Mary- land shore from the steamer Brooks in May, 1863." This he also refused to sign, but pleaded hard to be let go. A pauper’s ticket was then procured and the colonel left headquarters, and before many hours was on his =, to New York and for new pastures in which to work. Thus Boston is rid of one of the greatest beats that ever knocked’ at charity’s door. He, however, left his wife for friends to take care of and support. ———e-____ Jn the Good Time Coming. From the Obicago Tribune. ‘The courteous attendant (at the theater)— “Yes, madam, this is the place to check your large hat.” ‘The lady (to her escort)—‘Well, let’s go to our = sf The courteous attendant (politely)—‘Not yet, madam; kindly pass on to the next window and check. your big sleeves.” ——e-_____ Baster to Manage. From the Atlanta (Ga.) Constitution, Silos Saber are charged with hog steal- Prisoner—“Yes, suh,’* Sudge—“Couldn’t you find anything else : press to fost stole inghage don ——_—_—_—_—_—_————————————————————_....__._ -________ ‘GRIP IS EPIDEMIC, Whole Families Stricken and Many Deaths Reported. Nenrly Every Third-Person Suffer- ing With a Cold, Which Often Re- sults in Grip, Pleurisy or Pneu- monia. Colds lead to congks, coughs to grip, pneumonia and consumption; therefore, it is all Important to check a cold before it reaches the lungs, Mun- yon's Cold Cure will positively break a cold inside of twenty-four hours if taken as soon as the cold manifests itself. When the cold reaches the lungs or bronchial tubes the Cough Cure should be used alternately every half hour with the Cold Cure, The Cold Cure is guaranteed te prevent pneu- monia if used in the beginning of a cold. Pneu- monia or inflemmation of the lungs can be con- trolled by the use of these two cures. is ae Cough Cure positively cures bronchitis, tick~ Ress of the ‘chest, dificuty ta Ureathine, hacking ind all pulmonary diseases where the lungs + not, too far decomposed or covered with’ rel If you are ailing, step into the nearest drug store’ and get a 25c. vial of one of Mf "8 Hemedien, No matter what your disease, or how many tors have failed to cure, it will give you relief. ‘Those who are in doubt as to the nature of cheir disease should address Prof. Munyon, 1505 Arch Street, Philadelphia, giving ful roms: disease. Prof. Riundn wilt carefull Soe the the case and give you the benefit vice abso- lutely free of all charge. The Remedies’ wilt be sent to any address on receipt of retail price. $2.25 Steamer ‘T=r-u=-n-k-s —or perhaps you want a better one and are willing to go higher. In that case, we have them for $2.50, $2.75 and $3 up to $20. You'll be sur- prised how good a Steamer Trunk this one at $2.25 is. Your name marked on it and a Trunk Strap free. You are asked T5c. elsewhere for our 65c. Canvas Telescope Cases. Kneessi, 425 7th St. 28a POSSHIOOPSICOCESES: Not aGas . ppliance Lacking Here Even to the cute little stoves that heat the curling iron without “‘smutting”’ it. “Sad iron heaters, bread toasters, Bunsen burners (for laboratories), 8c. foot for covered gas tubing. ‘Gas Appliance Exchange, 1428 New York Ave. Vif otlh Camphor —the best in Washington at 7c. Pound; 4 Pounds, 25c. weeeee we eeeee . Ogram’s, Px, tens" SHOR r ‘We're disposing. of ail the odds and ends of our avenue store stock at ridic- ulously low prices. The following are only ideas: Ladies’ Stylish Shoes, $1. Men's Shoes, 80 cents. At in Prices. TUCKER’S, 1237 32d St. > mn29-284 POPSOPOOSOOOOS BRANDY —A SPLENDID QUALITY — EXCELLENT FOR PUDDING, SAUCES AND COOKING PURPOSES. It's of a quality 5Oc. ay atnen ar” Bottle. ALIFORNIA WINE AND FRUIT CO., mb29-284 1205 G ST. N.W. Lee Perrccvccccccccccccccsce ‘Refrigerators day 4 fore it is well to know peore purchasing that we have a Refrigerator teed to give entire satisfaction. I an caetience, of forty-five years the mame slash ct ce Sn On R efrigerator Means good value for your ey. ‘The slate stone shelves should recom. mend them to every careful housekeeper. Prices never more reasonable than the PEYTUTEETE LTE eevee Call for our booklet of recummenda- tions from those who are using “The Eddy.” S TM. W. Beveridge, HOUSEFURNISHINGS, ee 1215 F and 12i4 G sts. Sole its for the D. C. mh29-404 Cee eeeercosessocccesreseoee POOH OOOO OOOOH O OOOO OOOS oeeee eee eee making Special Shoes to order for from $5 to $10 is our great ‘“‘hobby.” We are making the same Shoes for these prices that your round-the-corner shoe-= maker charges $8 to $15 for. Only a question of time before you'll drift into our Comfortable Shoe Par- lors and be measured. Then you'll be ‘‘foot-happy”’ for life. Fit guaranteed. ILSON, ‘Shoemaker for Tender Feet,” 929 F Street. FRUIT TREES. GRAPE VINES, EVERGREENS, SMALL FRUITS, &c. SHADE TREES, SHRUBS, - - ROSES. &c. EVERYTHING IN THE TREE AND PLANT LINE aT JOHN SAUL’S Nursery, Brightwood avenue . (ith st. road), mh26-eo2w* P.O. Box 484.