Evening Star Newspaper, June 1, 1895, Page 14

14 THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JUNE 1, 1895-TWENTY PAGES. = ESSSS SSSSE SSE SESS SOOSHSESOH ©8689 “1895 JUNE 18 “ANNIVERSARY” LWlelt Sill Of C. F. hess year, it will markably, DVOOTCOOOSSHOSSHOGSSOSSHOGHSSHSOSHSHOHOOHLSHOHHHOSDO day papers. @ OOo 3 3 1105 June being the anniversary month of the commencement of my busi- of what appears to me to have been a wonderfully successful one. Ty business has increased re- despite the depressed times, and my customers are daily increasing in number--they include the leading people of this city. I attribute my success to the fact that my Silverware, Goldware and Manufactured Goods are only of the purest and best qualities, and my prices very moderate. the fact that I control many exclu- sive patterns and designs. announce that I shall hold a sale of Silverware and Silver Articles during the week ending June 8. All my stock is marked, as al- ways, in plain figures, and a special discount of 15 PER CENT Will be allowed during this week. For further particu- lars and prices see the Sun- A Gold Week, Diamond Week and Unannounced Sale Week will follow the Silver Week. C. F. DAVISON, §& Silversmith, Goldsmith and Diamond Dealer, 2, F Street Northwest. SBS8H' OSs Davison. ODOGHSSOGOOOS conclude a period SOOOOVSO ESOS SEH SO GOOSCO DOGS OOTOO SOHO Further, to = 3) 6 & @ S@ SOSSSOOS 0990 A Plan Put im Operation by a Church Settlement Club. From the New York Herald. Hitherto it has been almost impossible for a workingman to have the services of a graduate of a hospital training school unless he was in a position to pay about $25 a week for the privilege, or accept charity. It is a” well-known fact that ill- ness among the poorer classes often proves fatal because of the lack of skilled atten- ticn. That $25 a week fs little enough com- pensation for a skilled nurse who bas given years to acquiring necessary know!l- edge is not questioned, and how to provide the working classes with such services has had the attention of many persons in- terested in the condition of the masses. ‘A novel scheme has heen put into opera- tion by the Church Settlement Club, at No. 556 avenue A, the heart of the upper East de terément district. This club anized a short time ago by some 1 s of the Episcopal Church of the Redeemer, at Park avenue and S@d street. The work is in charge of Miss Marion Gurney and the Rev. William Everett Johnson, who, when # curate, lived for some time In a tenement house in the heart of the notorious “Hell's Kitchen,” where he gained useful knowl- ede, which has enabled him to devise practicai schemes to aid the poor without degrading them, With this idea he started the Church Settlement H One of the features of the work is the nursing department. As on the average trained nurses are of duty at ieast one- third of the time, It occurred to the Rev. Mr. Johnson that use might be made of this unemployed time for the benefit of the worthy poor. With the aid of his sister, Miss Johnson, ten trained nurses were in- duced to take up their residence at the Settlement House. Arrangements have been made with these nurses, so that three or four of them will always be available for neighborhood work at ten cents an hour. The rest will go out for regular work in turns, In this way the nurses will receive more in the long run than if work- ing independently. The plan is working in @ satisfactory manner. —— — WORTH TALKING ABOUT. Bridget’s View of the Question Had an Element of Reason in It. From Harper's Magazine. In many of the large apartment houses of New York the clothes are hung on the roof to dry, and, as the roof in the major- ity of cases fs not large enough to accom- modate the combined washing of all the- apartments, each family has a different wash day assigned to it. On Wednesday, for instance, the entire wash belonging to four families may be hung on the roof, on Thursday giving place to the wash of four other families, and so on. This often leads to mistakes, and compiaints of losses are not infrequently heard. Recently a young married lady, who occupled an apartment on the west side of the town, engaged a new servant, and directed her to exercise extreme care in he % out the clothes, and be sure that they were not taken away by any other girl. After the clothes came back she went out to the kitchen, and was horrified to find that the clothes were not hers, but belonged to some one else. “Oh, Bi she exclaimed, “these are Why"—holding up sev- turn—“they don’t replied Bridget, tri- y fit, but will you ity uv thin?" clothes! eral of the garments i rot our marm,” untly, “the: Mr. Dolan’s Dilemma. From the Montreal re It was Paddy Kelly who walked into the sick room of Mickey Dolan. Mickey lay pale, with his eyes closed, and heard Mickey, it's ill ye're looking. s the mather wid ye?” “Do ye know that spalpeen av Wida@y O'Brien's second husband?” asked Mickey. “That I do.” “He bet me a pound to a pint I couldn't schwailer an igg kin’ the shell av it.” “Did did.” “Then fwat's ailin’ ye there,” laying his bend on his stomach. “If I jump I'll break it and cut me stummick wid the shell. If I kape quiet, the thing’ll hatch out, an’ I'll have a shanghal rooster clawin” me insides.” .plum pudding Sunday. BURGLAR AND PUDDING. The Effect Wan Mortifying to a Proud Chicago Family. Fram tho Chicago Daily Inter-Occan, A certain family in a popular residence district on the north shore is in temporary disgrace with its neighbors, and ail because of a series of ludicrous misadventures in which the members of the family referred to were the actors, and which resulted in a racket that made some people think the nolse-makers had got mixed up in their dates and were celebrating the Fourth of July six or seven weeks ahead of time. The family consists of three members, father, mother and twelve-year-old son. It occupies a pleasant home and has been al- ways regarded by friends and acquaint- ances as the possessor of domestic hap- piness of an unadulterated brand. It would, no doubt, still hold a good title to general esteem if its serenity had not been dis- turbed some time ago by a visitor. The visitor was a personage that has the fac- ulty of making himself ubiquitous in Chi- cago—to wit, a gentlemanly, industrious burglar. : Mr. Burglar took precautions to give the family as little trouble as possible during his visitation. Toward this end he re- moved his shoes before crawling through the pantry window which he had selected as the means of ingress, probably because he desired to strengthen himself with a slight collation before proceeding to active labor. It was this lunch that spoiled his en- terprise. In the gloaming he mistook a bot- tle of Worcestershire sauce for imported beer, and he helped himself to a generous swig of the liquid to wash down some sand- wiches he had eaten. The fiery relish took the robber’s breath away and a severe fit of coughing aroused the household. The thief escaped, knocking down a shelf full of crockery as he squeezed himzelf through the window, but he was so ‘thoroughly scared that he forgot to pick up his shoes in_ passing. The cough, which was louder and more rampant than the most boisterous lung isturbance ever described in patent med- icine literature, the avalanche of’ cups dishes and preserve bottles, and the shoes, which the milkman next morning suggested might have been stolen from a suicide, have proved monuments of terror to the family ever since. Father, mother or son has scarcely slept. Every night there ‘is a pilgrimage through the rooms and a thorough examination of closets, cellar and attic. When the inquisitors retire to bed it Is only to fall into a semi-slumber and dream of masks, dark lanterns, re- volvers and other accessories of the mid- night marauder. The family is living in a state of constant alarm. The menu of Sunday’s dinner included English plum pudding. Plum pudding is about the last thing that nervous people should eat. When taken in large quantities by little boys it is positively hobgoblin pro- ducing. The little boy in the north shore home had no appetite for anything only He ate it at dinner and again at supper, and would have eaten more later on oniy he fell asleep on the sofa and had to be caried to bed. The in- evitable, of course, happened. He had an attack of somnambulism about midnight and got up to search for burglars and plum pudding. When his mother, awaking from a fitful sleep, discovered the outline of a ghost-like visitor in her room she screamed“‘Murder!” In an instant paterfamilias was on the floor and a moment later two white-robed figures were rolling over on the carpet in h s3_confusion. t's I} papa,” roared the boy, who had been literally choked into consciousness. Mean je the mother kept up a tornado of yells, believing her husband was being murdered. The boy, when he got through shouting on his own account, commenced yelling for the sake of his mother, under the impression that some one was attack- ing her. Tt took several minutes to straighten things out. When all was quiet everybody felt ashamed and mortified. Half the neighborhood sat tp all night and was afraid to venture out to look for an ex- planation of the noise. The actors in the racket have kept a discreet sileace. The father told a friend yesterday that there is sewer gas in his house and it is likely he is leoking for an excuse to move away. DIANA IS DEAD She Was the Brightest Monkey at the Zoo. Poisoned by a Sprig of Laurel—Every Effort to Save Her Was Unavaliling. Diana is dead. Diana, the gayest, cheeriest, happiest, funniest of all the simiano! Diana, the greenest, brownest, prettiest, cleanest of monkeys! Poor Di, as she was fondly known by the attendants of the Wash- ington Zoo, which has been her happy home for three years, perished last Sun- day, the victim of her appetite and her curiosity, slain by the carelessness of one of her stanchest admirers. Diana’s full name was Diana Cercopithe- cus. She was born on the west coast of Africa a few years ago. Like some others of her sex, she was of uncertain age, but she was a weil-grown, lively monkey when she was purchased for the Zoo from a New Orleans bird and animal fancier, who, in turn, had bought her from a sailor who had found her on her native wilds. Just how the sailor got her {fs not definitely known. At all events, Diana made her way by these various paths to Washington, and for three years she has been a bosom friend of almost every child in the Dis- trict and also of many oider people, who recognized in her a true optimist. a splen- did specimen of monkeydom ard the source of much wholesome merriment in the world. Poisoned by Laurel. Diana had a mission on earth. She may not have recognized the fact and she may have been going on in her erratically comi- cal way unconscious of the good she was do- ing, but she unquestionably had a miss:on. It is to be feared Laat she had not wholly fulfilled it when she poked her slim brown arm out between the bars of her cage last Sunday afternoon at 2 o'clock and made one of her characteristically quick grabs at a branch of laurel that a man was hold- ing out toward her. He was only hoping te make her play the more. With him was a small child, laughing heartily in his youthful glee at the funny antics of the little beast within the cage. There was a flash of the brown arm, a fierce tug, and Diana had grabbed away a Part of the laurel branch. Quick as a wink she sprang up to her favorite shelf and be- fan to nibble at her prize. An attendant, who had seen the man swinging the green branch in front of the cage, ran to the res- cue, for he knew, though Diana and the man did not, that the laurel is a deadly poison for man and beast. He had been ordered by/Superintendent Baker to keep the visitors from offerirg sprigs of this common but dangerous plant to the ani- mals in the park; but he was too late. Al- though Diana had eaten only a small part of the bit that she had seized, that was enough. Dr. Baker was hastily summoned, and, aided by the attendants, he tried to administer an antidote, but without avail. His main effort was to —_—_ nausea, but Diana struggled and screamed in the arms of the men who were hold:ng her, and re- fused to take any medicine. She did not know, poor creature, that they were trying to save her life. No Remedies Avatled. For a while after they had given over their efforts to make her take an emetic she tried to play, but she was gradually growing weaker. The laurel was given to her at 2 o'clock, and at about 5 she began to show signs of immediate dissolution. She grew weaker and weaker. Once or twice she tried to do her favorite tricks, but failed. She sprang at her trapeze, and missed it. She sat upon the floor of the cage, unsteadily, and looked at the bar sor- rowfully, as though to express her aston- ishment that it had gone so far away from her. The space in front of her cage was crowded by spectators, who watched the poor little beast die. There were ears in many eyes as Diana slowly succumbed to the deadly fluid that was circulating through her veins. Her lungs were filling with some substance thrown off by the poison, and she could no longer breathe. Finally she made one last try for the bar, but missed it sadly, and down she fell in a little brown and green heap on the floor, dying. There was a brief struggle, as she tried to rise and go racing through her cage, but her last game had been played. At last, shortly before 6 o'clock, she gave one convulsive gasp, and nes bright little head fell over. Diana was It is no exaggeration to state that some of the men standing by the cage cried a little when the monkey died. She was the brightest creature of her kind ever known in these parts, and it is said that her like Was never seen before by animal collectors. Her monetary value was unknown. Dr. Baker says that the managers of the Zoo had been offered $50 for her, and they had instantly refused the proffer. They would never have sold her, for she was the favor- ite of every child who ever visited the Zoo. A Post-Mortem Examination. Monday a post-mortem examination was made, and half a leaf of laurel and a bud were found in her stomach. Evidences of the poison were also found and it was definitely known that she had come to her death by this means. The skin of the monkey will be carefully cured and pre- served. Later Diana’s figure may be seen in the halls of the National Museum, nat- ural as life except that it will be still. That will not be natural. It was only nat- ural for this bright beast to run and jump, and clatter her trapeze against the walls ef her cage, which stood at the southeast corner of the L of the carnivorium. She lived alone, a maidenly life, and had the very, best of manners and habits. She was a cleanly, orderly monkey, so far as the ethical matters of life are concerned, though her tendency was far from being quiet. Her tricks were many and varied. Her favorite game was to start from the floor, and, giving a sharp spring, land on one of the shelves on either side of the cage. Then, without a moment's hesitation, she would spring backwards to the other shelf, and instantlyS start back again, and, after swinging violently on her trapeze for a moment, jump quickly to the floor, bang- ing the bar loudly against the side of the cage. The clatter from Diana’s cage was almost incessant. No one ever minded it, however, for it was a good-natured noise. Diana's back was a beautiful green, and her breast was a soft brown. From her chin depended a little tuft _of whiskers, whitish yellow in color. Her face was black as night, and her tiny eyes twinkled like stars. What Dr. Baker Says. Dr. Baker said this morning that he feared he could never again find a worthy successor to Diana. -“*Her species,” he went on, “is usually bright and active, but she was an uncommon specimen. Few mon- keys have her quickness or her good na- ture. She was always happy and never quarrelsome, as other monkeys often are. I shall try, of course, to get another mon- key to take her place, but I fear I shall fail. It seems to us like the loss of a per- sonal friend, now that Diana has gone, for she was by all odds the most attractive beast in our collection.” And so next Sunday, when the children go out to the Zoo, Diana’s cage will be si- lent, and her place will be vacant. She will be sadly missed by the little ones, and her memory, like her back, will always be bright and green. —_——_.- Blackie and the Students, From the New York Tribune. Here is en entirely truthful account of a scene in his class room—the sort of scene that occurred there very often: The pro- fessor—And now I will read to you a song I have just written. (Immense applause.) First I will read it in Greek, and then, since probably none of you will know encugh Greek to understand it—(Oh! Oh!)— I will read it in the barbarous tongue which you can comprehend. (Laughter.) A Celt cn one of the hack benches—Sing it, Blackie! (Cheers, cat calls, laughter, roars of “Sing it!” the professor vainly endeavor- Ing to get a hearing. In a lull of the storm he ejaculates: ‘You are a pack of the epithet is drowned in howls. The pro- fessor (gathering up his papers)—I won't read the song at all. (Profound silence.) The professor (smiling benignly)—Very well, my dear fellows, since you really seem able to behave yourselves, I will read the song. (And Blackle, whom all the rough lads adcre, begins to recite his song in Greek, and then in “the barbarous tongue”—and a capital song it is.) JACK KING'S FUNERAL BY ALFRED HENRY LEWIS. + Writter Exclusively for ‘The Evening Star, “This yere which j’m mentionin’,” said the old cattleman,; ‘twas the first funeral the town had had: Of course, some of the boys had been downetl one time an’ anoth- er, an’ gone shoutin’ home to heaven by various trails, but the remainders had been freighted east or west every time, an’ the camp got left. It was hard luck, but one day it came toward us, an’ we were with a corpse all our'n an’ no partnership with nobody nor nuthin’. “It is the chance of our life,” said the postmaster, ‘an’ we plays {t. There’s nuthin’ too rich for our blood, an’ we'll show Nutt an’ Rincon an’ sech hamlets they ain’t in it compared with Deming.’ “So we begins to draw in our belts an’ get a big ready. Jack King was the corpse, emergin’ out of a game of poker as such. He'd been peevish an’ irritable an’ pest- erin’ an” pervadin’ 'round for several days. The town stood a heap of trouble with him, an’ tried to smooth it along by giving him his whisky an’ his way about as he wanted them, hopin’ for a change. But man is only human, an’ when Jack started in one night to make a flush beat a tray full for $700 he asked too much. “There warr’t no undertakers,so we call- ed the camp to order, and knowin’ he'd take pride in it, an’ do the slam-up thing, we put in the postmaster to deal the game unanimous, “‘Gentlemen,’ he sald, ‘in assumin’ the present position I feel the compliments paid in the selection. I shall act for the credit bf the cump, an’ I need your help. I want these rites to be a howlin’ success. I don’t want people comin’ ‘round next week allowin’ there ain't been no funeral, an’ I don’t reckon much they will. We've got the corpse, an’ if we fall flat now it’ our fault.” “So we 'p'inted Jim Sweet an’ French Paul to go to the Santa Fe shop for a box for Jack, an’ detailed a couple of niggers from the corral to dig a grave. “‘*An’ mind you alls,” said the postmas- ter, ‘I wants that hole at least a mile from town. In order to make a funeral a suc- cess you need distance almost as much as a stiff. It gives the procession a chance to spread an’ show up. You couldn’t make a funeral a success or imposin’ an’ have it come off in your back yard.’ “Everything went smooth right off the reel. We got a box an’ grave all ready, an’ the rostmaster stuck up a notice on the Post office door settin’ the hilarity for 3 o'clock the next day. Prompt at the drop of the hat the camp let go all holts an’ turned locse in a body to put Jack through right. He was laid out in great shape in the New York store, with nuthin’ to com- plain of if he'd been asked to make the kick himself. He'd a new silk necktie, blue shirt an’ pearl buttons, trousers an’ boots. Some one—Whisky Sue, I think—had pasted some court plaster over the hole on his cheek *bone wher€ the bullet got in, an’, all around, ‘Jack looked better than I ever saw him. “Let the meetin’ come to order,’ said the postmaster, sittin’ down on a box of boots up at Jack’s head; ‘an’, as many as can, please get something to sit on. Now, my friends,’ he continued, ‘thar ain’t no need of my puttin’ on any frills or gettin’ in any scroll work. The object of this convention is plain and straight. Mister King, here present, is dead.. Deceased was a very headstrong person, and persisted yesterday in entertainin’ views as to the value of a club flush, a queen at the head, which re- sulted in life everlasting. Now, boys, this is a racket full of solemnity. We want nuthin’ but good words. Don’t mind about the truth. We know his record. How he stole a hoss at Rincon an’ robbed a man last fall at Fort €ratg; how he downed a man at Los Crucés, and how that scar on his neck he got from Wells-Fargo’s people. But today we don’t copper nary bet. At 4 o'clock yesterday mornin’, accompanied by the report of a Colt's 45, Mr. John King, who lies here so cool an’ easy, left the dance hall and entered in behind the great white shining gates which swing inward to glory eternal. It is a great set-back at this time that there ain’t a sky pilot in the camp. It saws a big hoss nto. us, but we'll do our best. At a time like this I've heard that singin’ is a good, safe. break, an’ I'therefore calls on that little gal from Lake valley to give us “The Dyin’ Ranger.” ’ “So the little Lake valley gal cleared her valves with a drink an’ gives us the song, an' when the entire congregation drew cards on the last verse it did everybody good. “Far away from his dear old Texas ‘We laid him down to rest, With his saddle for a pillow ‘And his gun across his breast. “Then the postmastér got out a Testa- ment. ‘I'm goin’ to read a chapter out of this here Testament,’ he says, ‘I ain't makin’ no claim for it, ’cause It's part of the game an’ accordin’ to Hoyle. If there was a preacher here he'd do it, but there bein’ no sech on this range, I makes it es a forced play myself.” “So he read us a chapter, an’ everybody took it in mighty owly, for, of course, that was the lead to make, an’ we knew it. “Then the postmaster said he'd like to hear from any one under the head of good of order. “Mr. Undertaker and chairman,’ says Jtm Hamilton, ‘this thing weighs on me heavy. Of course, as’ keeper of the dance hall, I saw a heap of the corpse an’ knew him’ well. Mr. King was my friend, an’ while his moods were variable and unsar- tin’ an’ it was clearly worth while to wear your gun while he hovered near, I loved him. He had weaknesses, as do we all. A disposition to make new rules as he played along for those games of chance which enjoyed his notice was perhaps his greatest fault. His giving way to this habit yesterday was primarily the cause of his being gathered to his fathers. I hope he'll get along thar, an’ will make a side bet, even money, he will. He may alter his play an’ stand ’way up in G with them people up thar, an’ if a word from me could fix it, I’d put it in. I would say further that after consultin’ with Billy Burns, who keeps the other saloon, we have, in honor of the dead an’ to mark the occasion of his cashin’ in, agreed upon a business departure of interest to you all, This departure Mr. Burns will state.’ “Mr. Postmaster,’ says Burns, ‘I know- ed deceased. He was a good man an’ a dead game sport from ‘way back. A pro- tracted struggle with the recklessly com- pounded drinks of the frontier had begun to tell on him, an’ for a year or so he was Mable to have spells; that was all. Re- ferrin’ to the remarks of Mr. Hamilton, I states that by agreement between us an’ in honor to the departed the price of whis- ky in this yere camp from now cn will be two drinks for a quarter instead of one, as previous. We don’t want to ‘listurb val- ues nor unsettle trade, and we don’t be- Neve this will. We makes it as a ray of ight in the darkness and gloom of the hour.’ “After these remarks, which were well received, we formed the procession. Two buglers from Fort Cummings took the lead, with Jack in one of the Silver City stage ccaches comin’ next. The six pallbearers were on horses next tn line, an’ the rest of the town strung along permiscus on horse- back an’ In wagons. “This is a great day for Deming,’ says the postmaster, as he rode up an’ down the‘ine. ‘There ain't no camp this side of Albuquerque could’turn this trick. I only wish Jack could see it himself. It’s more calculated to bring this town into favorable rotice than a lynchin’*— “At the grave we turned In an’ gave three cheers for King, an’ three for the postmaster, an’ last we gave three more en’ a tiger for the town. The buglers give us everything they knowed from the ‘water call’ to the ‘retreat,’ an’ while the niggers was a shovelin’ in, the sand we banged away with our six-shooters for general effect quite delightful. You can gamble there ain’t been uo funeral like it !:efore or since. It was lovely. “At last the postmaster pulls out cf the stage wo used for Jack a headboard. When it was set up it looked like if Jack wasn’t satisfied with that he’d be hard to suit. On sentiment,’ says the postmaster. “Then we detailed the two niggers to stand watch, an’ watch every night till further orders. Of course, we aren’t afraid Jack would get out, but the coyotes was shore to come an’ dig for him. So the nig- gers had to stand guard. We didn’t allow to find hunks an’ scatterin’s of Jack loose after all the trouble we took.” > Controllable Affection. From the Indianapolis Journal. “I cannot say that I love him wildly,” admitted the Chicago young lady, “but still, I think he will make a good enough husband for a year or so.” -were made for this labor. f/ECONOMY Dr. Atkinson Tells How a Dinner for Twelve Costs $3, The Prices of the Various Food Ma- terials and the Importance of Knowledge in Cooking. The “economy dinner” which was given recently in this city by Dr. Edward Atkin- son of Boston, the well-known writer on economics, was described at the time in The Star. The writer of the article giving the details of the dinner records his failure to purchase the food material said to have been used for the amount of money which it was asserted the Atkinson dinner cost. After reading this article Dr. Atkinson writes to The Star and makes the following interesting comments: “No one could have been more surprised than myself at the publicity which has been given to a certain dinner which I prepared in Washington mainly for the purpose of justifying Secretary Morton in adding, at my suggestion, experimental food labora- torles or stations to the agricultural ex- periment stations. To that end Mr. Hamlin permitted me to make use of his dining room. “In the dinner, of which many distin- guished people partook, it was not my purpose to show the utmost economy in the supply of the food material, but to give some examples of what could be done with good material with the least attention on the part of myself. I have developed the science of cooking to some extent, but the application of the art is a very differ- ent thing. It requires somewhat constant practice, more than I have been able to give it myself. One readily forgets time. Hence, one of my undertakings, which I unfortunately added at the heaviest cost, was a failure. I put in asparagus out of season at a heavy expense, and it was not completely cooked at the time the dinner was served. I did not give it time enough. The rest of the’ dinner, of which you have given a fairly accurate statement, cost, as ! you have stated, $2.58, and was, on the whole, very satisfactory. At Boston Prices, “Net one of your correspondents fails to find out the way to duplicate that dinner at anything like the same price. I do not recall the exact quantities or the prices which were stated to me as having been paid for the materials. I will therefore submit to you a statement of what quantity of food could be supplied at Boston prices for $3 out of which a five-course dinner could be put upon the table for many more than twelve people, although the excess might consist of a part only of some of the various foods supplied. I simply give you the prices which one of my office boys has just verified by going to different parts of the city to find out at what cost he could buy the quantities needed at the retail prices. Four pounds of shin of beef would make four pints of strong beef soup. In fact, the cut meat without the bone, which can be bought at 3 cents a pound, would make more than that quantity—more than enough for twelve people . Four pounds of haddock, with half a pound of salt pork and some vegeta- bles hereafter provided, would make a very good chowder; cost of had- 90.12 The forequarter of lamb,with the bone removed, stuffed and roasted, can be bought at 8 cents per pound or less. Six pounds Is more than enough for that course............. z Fowls which can be made as tender as spring chickens, or more so, by proper methods of cooking can be bought at i4 cents or less. A fric- assee of chicken of six pounds put upon the table with the forequarter of lamb would divide that course.... A pound and a half of white beans with half a pound of salt pork will more than suffice for a bean course for twelve peopie. : Two pounds of corn and rye meal at 3 cents, with so little molasses as hardly to count, will make @ large loaf of New England brown bread.... Three pounds of ham, at 14 cents, would be more than would be con- 8h 16 IN DINING] | ee 3 the store. S| Upholstery. In this stock aré many things that add very largely to the attractiveness and at a very small cut- | comfort of home lny of cost. Ruffled Sofa Pitlows, 492. 12%e., 15¢, and 19¢. yard. White Scrim, 3' Cretonnes, 9e. yard. Se. y Silks reduced from $1.00. 2c. yard. Cotton Fringes, Se. Japanese Crepex, solid colors, Le. Artist Figured Crepes, 25¢. Sultan Plushes reduced from $1.25 to ‘Te. yard. ’ kets Silk Tapestry, back, Were $6. Now $3.75 ret. 2 sets Sk Tapestry, chair seat and back. Were $5. Now $8.25 set. 1 set Anberson Silk Tapestry, chair seat aud back. Was $20. Now $13 for the set. Carpets. Pretty hot weather to talk Carpets, but some rocms must have ‘them, and to Induce you to put them in other Tooms we cut as follows: 50c. Ingrains, 35¢. yard. Ge. Ingrains, 45c. yard. I chair seat and Te. Ingrains, S5c. yard. Te. Tapestry Biussels, 59e. | «$1.00 Tapestry Brussels, 75c, Hassocks, 25c. Japanese Hall Rugs, 3x15 ft., for Made-up Tapestry Carpet, 6x8.6, $7.50. Made-up Tapestry Carpet, 6x9, $7.50. Madé-up ‘Tapestry Carpet, 8.3112, $13.95. Made-up Moquette Carpet, §.3x12, $16.50. Made-up Moquette Carpet, 82x12, $19.50. Made-up Wilton Velvet, 8.3x12, $19.50. ‘Lace Curtains Add an air of refinement to the home that no substitute can give. At these prices you can put them all over the house: € pairs White Tambours, 3% yards. i Now $2.48. Was $4.00. make it so. EASIER DOLLARS To count than stock to measure. more we have to put in bank the fewer goods we'll have on hand when we close our business year the end of this month. We want to make it a short job, so for | these reasons, beginning Monday morn= By ing, we will make special prices all over Get your wants filled now, ‘while you can save from 15 to 25 per cent on the purchase. __ If you get anything of us at an - time and it is not satisfactory we will W. H. HOEKE, Furniture, Carpets and Drapery, Cor. Pa. Ave. and 8th St. See as es af The 2 palra White Tambours, 3% yards. | Now $5.95. Was $7.50. 6 pats White Tambours, 8% yards. Now $5.05, Was $9.00. 4 Woite Tambours, 4 yards. Now Was $8.50, | 6 pars W Tambours, 4 yards. Ka Now $7.50. Was $12.00. Ke 2 pairs White ‘Tembours, 3% yards. Now $8.75. Was $15.00. z _ 9 peirs Ecru Tambours, 8 New $2.75. $4.50, Zaks e 6 pairs Ecrt Tambours, 3% yards. [4 Now $4.05. Was $9.00. 7 i 3 5 Teal Bravsels, 3% yards, [¥ Now £9.75. Was $15.00. ie % I pair Irish Point, 3% yards. Ni a $3.75. Was $9.50. rene ey 1 pair Irish Point, 3% yards, Now $6.95. Was $12.00. 1 pair Irish Potut, 8% yords, Ni $5.90. Was $12.00, me 3 pairs Irish Point, 8% yards. Ni $9.50. Was $18.00, baa 6 pairs Irish Patnt, 3% yards. Ni $6.50. Was $12.00. ma a 4 pairs Irish Point, 8% yards. Now $9.75. Was $18.00. Furniture, Did you ever stop to think of what becomes of all the farniture? It’s an unexplained mystery, We don't un- derstand It any more than we ubder- stand Low such values as these can be f0ld for such little prices: Full Size Couch, in tapestry, $5.75. Carduray Conches, $7.50. Pantasote Couches, oak frame, $15.00. Box Couches, in cretonne, $8.50. — Chiffonters, 5 drawers and cabinet, Antique Suite, 44-1. case, nicely fin- ished, large glass and built to last, for $16.50. Antique Suite, paneled bed, heavy carving, 24x30 glass, on large dresser, for £19.00. Oak Suite, with shaped top pattern, French plate, 24x30, $21.00. seme hozany Suite, $25.00. Carly Birch Suite, 66 bed, las dresser and bevel plate, $24.00. ia Handsome Birch Suite, Princess dress- er, with cheval glass, reduced $125 to $87.00. 53 ene Parlor Suite, imitation ma- gany frames, upholstered in silk, for $25.00. = S-plece Overstuffed Suite, done in brocatelle, $33.00. ro eostoese spoegeaoeergense roezo nae ereteaee ee apoio ap peseson PRESS £ SPCPECSSOT SSCS OTT sumed in such a dinner. Ten pounds of vegetables son—potatoes, onions, beets, would cents a pound.. = Six pounds of flour, at 2% cents a pound, will make ten pounds of bread, or a part can be converted into a pudding. Two pounds of sugar, at 5 cents. One pound of stoneless raisins. We have left for salt and spices. ete.— not average in excess of 3 - $8.00 “That gives tifty pounds of food material for $3. This list may be varied in many ways tor the same amount of money. Five Cents a Pound. “The water added in cooking many of these articles would carry the weight of cooked food to sixty pounds or more, mak- ing an average cost of the food cooked 5 cents a pound. It is not difficult to make a varied, nutritious and appetizing dietary at less than 5 cents a pound, but that will suffice. I have given a hearty four-course lunch to six men at a cost of 30 cents for the whole—one and a half pounds each. ~ “Now, if you can find twelve people who can eat sixty pounds of cooked food at a meal, you will have to go to the brick yards, or to the men who are engaged in the hardest kind of manual work. If you take the average of the community, sixty pounds would serve four families of five each—two adults and three children per family—for one day's nutrition. If you as- sign the whole supply to one dinner I do not think you can find twenty-five average adults in Washington who would consume it all. Some part would be left. “This food could be completely and thor- oughly cooked in one Aladdin oven in three charges with a consumpiior of one quart of kerosene oil, costing at the advanced price three cents. These are facts, not theo- ries. They are sustained by many hundred witnesses. “I submit herewith a statement just made to me by one of the brightest youths in my office, whom I asked to go out into the markets and find out what he could buy for 8% so as to be enabled to make out a good bill of fare if any one had asked him to. shin beef, at 3 cents..... mutton, flank, at 4 cents. salt pork, at 8 cents. . suet, at 4 cents. . oleo, at 15 cents. fish, at 5 cents. . skim milk, at 2 . potatoes, at 1 1-4 cents. . Vegetables, at 2 1-2 vents. cheese, at 14 cents. . flour... . oatmeal, at 4 cents. corn meol, at 2 1. hominy, at 4 cents. sugar, at 5 cents... $2: “Fifteen pounds of wate. added in cook- ing, which makes a total of 100 pounds, sufficient for one day’s rations for about twenty-five adult men and women. The prices given are on a gold basis, but Bos- ton markets are considered rather dear. I think one might do better in Baltimore or Washington, if not in money yet in variety. es In Days of Tallow Dips. From the Ladies’ Home Jourral. : In these days of cheap and universal illu- mination we almost forget the humble tal- low dips of our grandmothers, and the way they were made. Candle making was the great household event of the late autumn or early winter, as soap making was of the spring. Careful and leborious preparations The small wood- en rods that had been laid up above the great beams of the kitchen or thrust under the garret eaves since the previous year were brought down stairs to the scene of the candle dipping, and cotton wicks that had previously been cut and sometimes soaked in saltpetre were placed three or four inches apart the entire length of each rod. Usually eight or ten wicks were fas- tened to a rod. Sometimy “‘cat tails,” or flags, were us<d instead of wooden rods. Then long poles were placed in a cool room supported on two straight-backed chairs, and across these poles the bewicked rods were hung like the rounds of a ladder. This work was all done on the day pre- vious to that appointed for the candle dip- ping, and on the following morning all in the household were astir before dawn. How He Broke the Backbone of a Railroad * Strike, He First Reasoned With the Men and Then Took Out a Train Himself. Gresham’s bravery is well known. He was ever courting danger as a soldier, and in times of need was always to be depend- ed on for his coolness and good judgment in the heat of battle. One noteworthy incident in his career is related by Judge John N. Scott, brother-in- law of ex-President Harrison, who was a warm admirer and staunch friend of the dead soldier, jurist and statesman. It was in the 70's when labor strikes fol- lowed in the wake of bad times and armed mobs took the law into their own hands until brought to terms by state and federal troops. There was a big strike inaugurated by the railroad men, and Ind@tanepolis was the storm center. Switchmen, trainmen, brake- men, engineers and even conductors had joimed the movement, and with every hour’s delay came fresh recruits to swell the ranks of the strikers and increased the confidence and effrontery of the strikers. New men were sent for to take the places of the strikers, who, upon their arrival, either out of sympathy er thorough fear refused to take out a train. Declaration of the Strikers. The attitude of he strikers was belliger- ent in the extreme. They openly declared their intention to ditch the first train taken out by any other than union men, and even went to the limit of intimidating the travel- ing public by the statement that all pas- sengers on such trains would be regarded as enemies of the strikers and fired upon. But so far the strikers had confined themselves to threats, and pending any unlawful act the governor was unwilling to call out the troops. At the close of the sec- ond day it became evident to every one that so strained a condition of affairs could rot last much longer; that the crisis was at hand. Already the mob of strikers, with too much idle time on their hands, and too much alcohol in their stomachs, had de- monstrated their utter lack of self-restraint and complete contempt for any or all or- ders issued by their leaders. The latter had-unchained the dog and too late realized their inability to control him. Something had to be done, and that quickly. To call out the troops at this time, with the strikers in the mood they were, was almost certain to result in loss of property and bloodshed. Mr. Gresham, at this trial, was on the state bench. He locked over the situation carefully, found the strikers desperate, but disorganized, and determined to act accordingly. The strikers had declared that no train should leave Indianapolis until the railroads agreed to the demands of the men. So far no man had been found with the courage to face the sullen, determined mob that held full possession of yards, stations and rollfng stock. ; Gresham’s First Act. Gresham, as far as is known, consulted with no one. At any rate, the first knowi- edge that came to Judge Scott was through an extra edition of the evening papers. Gresham had gone to the railroad station and reasoned and argued long and earnestly with them. He: reminded them that he had always been their friend, but told them their cause must fail because jt was not a just cause. But his evident sincerity and eloquence were unavailing. Finding he could not reason them out of the unfortunate position in which they had placed themselves he sald: “Then, if you will not listen to reason nor heed the ad- vice of a tried friend the consequences be upon you and you alone, for tomorrow a train leaves this station and I will take it, so help me God.” Then he turned and left. The strike leaders were taken com- pletely Wy surprise. They were dum- founded. The news spread like wildfire, the extra editions of the papers serving only for the details, the news itself traveling far f: than that. Gresham's house pov steed ed. His friends urged him to reconsider what they deemed a hasty and ill-consider- nea determination. “You will be killed,” ey said. “All right,” was culy, rejoinder. " at care indianapolis did not sleep mu night, and at best its rest was feverene Every one looked to the morrow with dread. The town was astir early and the e:tire male portion of the inhabitants was quickly cn its way to the railroad station. “Will Gresham do it?” was what every- body asked everybody else. While this was going on, while thousands of law-abiding zens were closing in about the few undred strikers and their active sympa- thizers, Judge Gresham was, at least to all outward appearances, as unconcerned as though the prospect of facing several hun- dred sullen and desperate men was an e\ery-day affair. At any rate it made no difference in his habits. He had his break- fast at the usual hour and did it full jus- fice. Then he waiked to his office and put his affairs into proper shape, in case any- thing 31 happen. He Took Ont a Tratn. ‘hen he made his way quickly to the round house, where, with the ald of two strikers, who, having failed to dissuade him from his purpose, turned in and help- ed him, a train was made up «nd steamed slowly up into the station. The news had gone ahead. The excitement was at fever heat; the tension on one’s nerves w: terrific. The strikers had planned to force Gresham from the train without injury, stop the train and draw the fires. ‘They had not expected him to stop in the sta- tion; they did not think he wouid dare, nor had they counted upen the attitude of the people. Heretofore the peopie had been % them in their Nght against the rail- roads. Perhaps it was the natural sympa- thy for the under dog, or, perhaps, the unreasonable but genera! antipathy toward all corporations. But with Gresham in the fight it was altogether different. He was known, loved and respected by ai When the train steamed slowly into view the waiting crowd caught sight of him, bareheaded, coatless, with sleeves roiled to his elbows. He leaned far out the cab window, as though inviting a bullet from some drunken striker. Perhaps it was this that won the day. Such courage is infec- tious. The people, until now cowed by the aggressive attitude of the strikers, sur- rounded the train and cheered Gresham tothe echo. The demonstration was too widespread and determined, and the strik- ers knew it. The passengers got aboard, the engineer pulled the isver and the train, amt] terrific cheers, steamed slowly east, and the back of the strike had been broken, and that, too, without the spilling of a drop of biood. a A ROUGH SHAVE. ‘The Natives of Jamaica Use Broken’ Bottles for Razors. From Pearson's Weekly. The natives of Jamaica have no need to buy soap, for the woods abound with plants whore leaves and buds supply very well the place of that indispensable article. Among these is the soap tree, so-called, though it is more a bush than a tree, Its bulb, when rubbed on wet clothes, makes a beautiful lather, which smelis much like common brown soap. The Jamaica negroes, some of them who are great dandies in their way, make a soap out of a cocoanut oil and home-made lye and a fine soap It is, smooth and fragrant. This cocoanut ofl scap Is used for shaving. When a man wishes to shave he starts out with his coccanut-shell cup and his donkey-tail brush and bottle. It {s never any trouble to find an empty bottle in Jamaica, even in the mpuntains, At least twenty generar ticrs of thirsty people have lived there, and thrown away the empty botties. The man | carries no mirror, because he has none to carry. Not one negro cabin in a dozen has a cheap looking glass. But nature supplies the mirror es well as the soap. The man goes to a convenient pool in the mountain stream where the water Is still, and there is his mirror. He breaks his bottle on a stone, and picks out a good sharp piece. Then he lathers his fec2 profusely and be- gins to scrape away with his piece of glass, which works almost as well as a sharp razor. The men rarely cut themselves in this operation. “At first,” says a writer, “I trembled for them, but afterward I tried the method for myself, and soon became almost an expert at it.”