Evening Star Newspaper, July 6, 1895, Page 18

18, THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JULY 6, 1895-TWENTY PAGES. UNDER: THE GROUND The Great Railway System Beneath ; the Streets of Boston. PLACES OF HISTORIC INTEREST What a Washington Woman Saw in Massachusetts’ Capital. OLLECTION OF RELICS Special Correspondence of The Fvening Star. BOSTON, July %, 1895, Much that is connected+with the early ory of our country fs to be found in and one is surprised how a turn of eet or the skirting of a corner trans- Sone in a moment from a modern thor- fare to some ancient precinct. ket Square, to the right, can stil! see the city s and weigher's Office, where the colonists rendered strict account. The term’ square does not mean a charming inc’usure, such as our own Franklin Square—Roston jas no room for those breathing places in the city preper; the title square is given to any space, how- ever small, where the different car lines intersect and the streets cross cach other. Scme are large, some small, a few are dig- nifled with-a statue, but alas for the per- son who tries to find his way by any methodical plan from any such nucleus. The hub is there, but the spokes are put in indiscriminately. Foncull Hell. Passing down Cornhill through Dock Square, by the statue of Jonathan Phillips, you come to Faneuil 1, sacred to every lover of Independence day. The adjacent buildings, which carry indisputable evt- dence of longevity, shine in its reflected light, for you read “Faneuil lunch room and dressing rooms" on each side. It seems a desecration that this cradle of liberty should be prostituted to the use of & market place, for thg lower floor 1s given up to the dealers of such merchandise, thus endangering this ancient structure to loss by fire, through which the original building was destroyed in 1761. It was, however, rebuilt in 1763. This building was considered an ornament to the town. As it now stands it fs about {x30 feet, and the decorations and remodeling, which were added in 1806, were considered very ornate at that time. The upper story is very low- studded, and Lung from the roof on trusses. Here are the headquarter: and Honorable Artillery ¢ achusetts, one of the oldest organizations in Ame and a branch of the same so- ciety In London of which the Prince of Waies !s an honorary member. ‘The founder, Hon. Robert ‘Keayne of Lon- dcn, came over to America In 1634. In 18 ne founded the company, with thirty mem- bers. Now there are over 00, There are a great many noted names on the rel. The Walls are lined with pictures of these and other members of the company. In the side rcoms are treesured the heirlooms, which are numerous. One interesting souvenir fs the paper, is- sued eight deys after. the battie of Con- cord and Kexington. The sheet is very small and in exceedingly fine print, all but the headline—“Bloody Butchering by the British.” The details are put acr tcp within the outlines of small coffi ten On the story below is the clerk where you are requested to regisier your name, and the hall proper. As you ‘step across the threshold that has echoed to the tread of mighty men you almost look for their footprints within these historic walls. There Is a tier of seats on either side, and a gallery supported by pillars of white and gilt. The steps leading to the gallery are barred off by little gates, as is the circular stairway leading from the platform to the room below. On the plat- fcrm are several antiquated tables and chairs, and the niches In the background are adorned with a row of marble busts, while above hangs Healy's celebrated paint- ing of Daniel Webster delivering his speech, made famous by that one phrase, “Liberty, union, now and forever?’ The walls are covered with portralts of Adams, Hancock, Everett, Andrew, Knox, Choate, Peter Faneuil, Caleb Strong and the Kear- sarge and the Alabama. Faneuil Hall still echoes to the sound of patriotism, for in it are held all enthusi- astic celebrations. The Old State House. From Faneuil Hall it is natural to turn your steps toward the old state house. It stands in the center of the daily traffic of our moderi: Athens. Washington street pours its ceaseless flood of humanity by it from morn till eve. Just beyond is the dear old corner book store, sacred to the literary lights of the past. A slab of wood Is the passerby that it was On the next corner stands , mantled with ivy, and bearing its weight of years from 10 with the inherited pride of its owners. The battle flags and war relles are pre: served here, and a twenty-five-cent en- trance fee is charged. nly In this little nest egg of an- tiquity the old state house stands pre- eminent. Its outward appearance strikes one from every point of vantage. It has an aspect of Venerable antiquity, with its quaint tower, its corners embellished with the Non and unicorn, the brazen eagle in front, with the seal of Massachusetts be- low. A narrow, curving flight of steps leads to tha entrance, and a circular stair- way also leads from the central hall to the stories above. The upper tloor is given up to the Curtis collection of old Boston pic- tures, and a room devoted to relics, such as the old weather vane off the Hollis Street Church, which was altered to a the- ater in IS85; the cornice from the house of Cotton Matthew, a printing press used by Benjamin Franklin, and purchased from the estate of Ben: Perley Poore, and a fire bag used in Boston in 1794 for removing goods from buildings. On the story below is the old council chamber. Here assem- bled the honorable council, composed of twenty-eight citizens, who formed -the up- per house of genera! court. From the bal- cony under the east window it was cus- temary to read commissions and proclaim laws with beat of drum. From this same erected in the old South Meeting Ho: jcony the Declaration of Independence was read. The are lined above with nelent shields coat-of-arms vid documen Wi wivertising a DI and an account of the cost of repairing ate house from the loss by fire in the cost being given as £852 14s. Sd. On the posite side of the hall is the old representgdive hall. The building was last oceupied in 1 when the gereral court marehed to Beacon Hill to occupy new quarte: After exhausting the old state house it is i th to view the modern one on your vay up Washington st through newspaper row, to Schvol street, and thence to Tremont. Here, on the corner, er is Tiny King’s Chapel, with its Corinthian pillars and its’ adjacent rd. close to the Street, seemed to turmoil opposite ad just beyond is th eins, s the me of ams the with t ton common lying at its feet. mmon is the f lay ground. It the t green orror to the h ord of innovation should not d ne of the past, and the tide of a was only appeaseu by the cer- y that it would not inter with its eservation. The statement, In a rs late report, that 18: and 187 another, at a in one hour, the activity in the neighborhood of the New state house, and the necessity for a new method of travel. When the excavations were first begun for the mammoth subway there was such a crowd of curious sight seers that the officers bad their hands fully occupied. Strangers, bag in hand, came straight from the station to take a commiserating vie and when the opening on Boyle disc ed the tombs w e the diers were said to be buried the vas in A line of onlooke Fows deep. veered over the pling, and wo- men were hardly in the minority. Many a relic was unearthed—pieces of broken pot- tery, delicate gold teaspoons, and several old coins and rusty buttons from the red- ecats. One bystander had a rare find. It was a silver cup, evidently bearing the English trade-mark, and had the -inscrip- tion ‘Frederick Adams. February 14—Bos- ten—1752."" Pelicemen and watchmen were on duty, day and night, to guard against the open filching of the bones by boys, who sold them to the highest bidder; but the au- thorities guarded carefully against all en- croachments. The Tremont street mall is to be opened Text week. It will be about fifty-four feet wide and twenty feet deep, and will con~ tain four tracks. The cars will enter from Feyleston street and swing down the 300- feet cline to the garden. Over 10) men are busy on this section. By the time the Christian Endeavorers arrive they can form a fair estimate of Boston's massive under- taking. They will not find that the beauty of the parks has been impaired, for the gardeners are planning artistic effects in the way of floral decorations, and the C. E. badges and emblems blazoncd in every color that blooms will meet them at every turn. ANNA B, PATTE: a STORIES AROUT HE) Expecially When They Are Engaged in the Opération of Sitting. “In the matter of chicken raising,” states a writer for The Star, “there is a good deal to interest one besides the financial re- sults, About hatching they have some very edd ways. A short while ago a young game hen evinced the strongest desire to sit, or “set,” as common parlance has ft, and as I had a number of others going through that interesting process, and as she would not sit save on a certain nest, where a, number of hens were laying, I did not approve of her plan. However, she was so persistent, and disturbed the laying hens so much, that I finally, to her great satisfaction, put her en thirteen eggs. For about ten days she seemed the picture of contentment, but at the end of this perlod she apparently be- came disgusted at the slow process and left the nest, positively refusing to return. “As good luck would have it, another hen happened to be strolling by at that tlme— ore that had shown no signs whatever of a desire to sit—and seeing the eggs already arranged, immediately took possession of the nest. The brood was duly hatched, but the foster mother was not destined to en- joy the bringing up of all her chicks, for, no sooner had they left the nest than a pi- rate hen, which had apparently been lying in wait, asserted protectorship over several of them, and took them off to raise accord- ing to her own netions. This particular method is rather uncommon, though it not infrequently happens that when two hens are sitting near each other both of them wiil go off with the first brood hatched and abandon the others to their fate, even though they be within a day of hatching. “Another odd thing occurred last year. I had two hens, a black one and a white one, that Would sit on the same nest side by side. Neither one appeared to mind the other in the least; but, on the contra: there seemed to be an understanding bi tween them, as they snuggled up closely to- gether and carefully covered all the eggs. By some chance only two chicks were hatched, a black one and a white one, and whether it was merely accident or not I cannot say, but each took the one of its own color, and, while they brought them up tegether, yet each hen only fed its own chick. From all I'we seen of the queer ways of hens, I am inclined to believe that these particular ones understood what they were doing, and in their consideration—if I may be allowed the expression—this was the surest way of getting their own off- spring. “I am much interested at present in what seems to me the oddest freak of all. About two weeks ago I set a white hen on thir- teen eggs, as usual, in an old barrel which Was on its side. No sooner had I done this than a black hen took up her station imme- diately at the mouth of the barrel, and be- San to sit on the bare ground. I decided to let her alone and watch the result, as I was sure she had some idea to work out. Nor was I mistaken, for in a couple of days, when the white hen came off to get some food, the black one immediattly took her place. Naturally, I expected some disturb- a@nee on her return, but in this I was dis- appointed. She appeared to know exactly vhat the black hen had been sitting there for, and had apparently counted on the esult. Without showing the slightest agi- tation, she merely glanced in the barrel, then took her station on the exact spot that the black hen had quitted. Since then they have exchanged places several times, evidently thoroughly satisfied with their co-operative method. i “More than once I have had occasion to notice the quiet resignation and patience of a sitting hen under the most adverse cir- cumstances. For instance, I have known one to sit out the whole three weeks with another hen calmly seated upon her back. I have seen this not infrequently, and vain have been my endeavors to put a stop to it, until at last I have found it necessary to imprison the intruding hen. In some cases the intruder would consent to sit by her- self when a nest was prepared for her, but more frequently, Ike Rachel, she has re- fused to be comforted, and could net be ca- joleil into adopting any other occupation. Sometimes, if the original occupant is of a gcod disposition, and offers the visitor an opportunity, the latter will descend from her high station and snare the work side by side, as related above; but there are oc- casions when just nothing but pure cussed- ness seems to animate her, and she is thea as obstinate as a balky mule. — So Nerr and Yet So Far. From Harper's Bazar. “I proposed to Miss last night.” “Ah! And she accepted you?” “Well, no-o, not exactly, but came so near doing so that a gr2at deal of the sting was taken out of her refusal. She said she would have accepted me if I had had plenty of money and a perfect disposi- tion, and my eyes were brown instead of blue, and my hair curly, and I was two inches taller, and was winning fame in my profession, and possessed personal magnel- ism, and came of an old ani blue-blooded family, and would always let her have her own way, and never smoked nor wanted to stay out late at nigit, and did not belong to any lodge, and would keep a stylish turnout and plenty of servanzs, and really wanted her mamma to live with us, and a few other things which I have forgotten. But if a fellow must fail in an undertaking it is encouraging to him to think that he came very near winning.” ———_—_+ee—___ A Srake Fight. From the Loulsville Courier-Journal. A curious story comes from Georgetown township, Floyd county, Ind., a few miles from New Albany. One day last week David Baker, a farmer of that township, went squirrel hunting. Observing a com- motion in a tree in the thick woods near his home he made a close investigation and was horrificd to see a battle between snakes top of a large white oak tree, se ve feet from the ground. For se" Gladys Beautigirl eral minutes he stood bewildered, but col-, lecting his senses he fired at the snakes and brought two to the ground, A second shot brought three more, but all but two managed to escape. ‘The snakes were cf the black species and of remarkably large size. They had evi- dently been fighting for the possession of a squirrel that was found inside one, hav- ing been swallowed but a few minutes be- fore, as life was hardly extinct. ee A Line of Defense. Detroit Tribune. implored the unhappy damsel, Main’s knife gleamed aloft. In a moment it would descend to its foul ‘ork. ‘an you have ho pity? Must you kill me?" he answered, sadly, “but I you a letter of introduction to the party who is hypnotizing me.” There was yet hope. sisesh ‘Thank goodness, I was born in an in- cubator, and can stay out as late as I please!"—Harper’s Bazar, Written for The Evening Star. WARFARE IN THE AIR Proposed Construction of a Flying Machine Under Army Auspices. — TPIS 70 BE ON THE AEROPLANE ORDER Study of Military Aeronautics in All of the European Armies. SUPERIOR TO BALLOONS ————— HE OFFICIALS OF the army signal ser- vice have practically decided to build a flying machine. When completed it will be used in a ‘se- ries of experiments whose object will be to determine, if pos- sible, the practicabil- ity of artificial soar- ing flight. The appa- ratus will probably be on the aeroplane er aerocurve design, and is calculated to throw considerable Nght upon the relative merits of a device of that order and the balloon, which latter vehicle of aerial loco- ‘notion has been the object of study by military men during the past few years. The construction of the flying machine will probably be under the supervision of Capt. Glassford of the Department of Col- orado, who, under Gen. Greely of this city, chief signal officer, United States arm: has been carrying on extensive experiments in military ballooning for the last three years. Capt. Glassford is making prepara- tions for an extensive exhibit in connection with the Denver exposition, to open July 1, 1896. This exhibit will illustrate many of the conspicuous phases of military aero- rautics. A whole department of the exposi- tion will be devoted to aerodynamics. Dur- ing the intervening year previous to the opening of the Colorado fair every effort will be made to construct an apparatus which may actually carry a man. ‘The mechanism to be constructed is what is known as the soaring apparatus, the only kind of flying machine on the aero- plane order which has actualiy succeeded in transporting a man in free air. One of these has been built and successfully used by Herr Lilienthal, a German engine man- ufacturer, who succeeded in flying several hundred yards by its means. The same de- vice has been made and improved by an American engineer living in New York city. A new apparatus on these lingawill be con- structed for the exhibit mentfong. The New Sonring Apparat Capt. Glassford is a sanguine enthusiast, both as to the future of his balloon experi- ments and the accomplishment of mechan- ileal flight by means of the aeroplane. He believes that Prof. Maxim, in his late ex- periments, has presented many new fea tures of the flying machine. The new soar- ing apparatus will greatly resemble a gi- gantic butterfly, with large curved, but fixed, wings, provided with a flat tail, and upright keel projecting out behind. It w be about thirty feet across from tip to tip of wings, and about seven feet from front to back. It will expose about 160 square feet of surface. This surface will consist of fine cloth stretched tightly over a framework of light wood, held in place by fine steel wire. There will be no movement of the wings whatever. The whole surface will be rigid, without hinges or joints for the movement of one part against another. The whole is designed to represent the eagle in the act of soaring. From the center of the machine to the front edge will be left an open space, to be occupied by the aeronaut, who flies in a standing position. Herr Lillienthal, the German who made the first soaring apparatus on this pattern, started from the top of a hill with his fly ing machine, and by running against the wind was able to sail forward and down- ward, holding fast to the framework in the center. He made many such flights of sev- eral hundreds of yards, the hill being about “W feet high. He has since built an arti- ficial conical hill, about fifty feet high, on which he has been experimenting during the past year and a half. According to an English army officer, who witnessed his experiments, the average length of his soaring was generally about ninety yards. Lillienthal conceived the idea of imitating the soaring of those birds which appear to fly for hours at a time without the slightest effort, apparently utilizing every change either of direction or intensity of wind. .He believes that soar- ing birds, like the eagle or buzzard, for in- stance, while thus in motion, derive their evtire support and motive power from the rising currents of air believed to exist at certain altitudes. The soaring apparatus, therefore, if perfected and engineered by one who well understands the science of the bird’s soaring, will be sent high in the air without aid of any motive power, either steam or electricity. As 2 Milltary Adjunct. Military aeronautics has become a special study in all of the great European armies, including those of England, France, Ger- many, Russia, Austria, Italy, Spain, Bel- gium and Holland. Congress, however, has made little or no appropriation for this valuable adjunct to our army. Experi- ments in all countries, so far, have been made with balloons only. But upon the perfection of an apparatus which may be propelled and steered rapidly from place to place the functions of the balloon as a military agent will be lost. Our army’s first ballcon experiments were rade with the captive balloon exhibited at the Columbian exposition. A still larger balloon than this has since been built in France, under Capt. Glassford’s superv: sion. This is called the “General Myer.” It is spherical, having a capacity of over 13,000 cubic feet. The envelope is of thou- sands of pieces of the thinest membrane, stripped from the intestines of oxen. Each piece is so thin that it would require about 600 pieces, if piled upon one another, to make the thickness of an inch. For the sake of strength, however, the large bag is made in several layers. The whole bal- Icen is kept captwe by a cable fastened to the ground. In the day time signals are sent from this by means of the heliograph. Search lights in the military field can also be turned upon the balloon, at night, to indicate signals in much the same manner. A search light may also be erected in the car that a dis- tinet view of the movements of an enemy may be seen at night, from distances of many miles. Capt. Glassford Fas studied the English, French and German systems of military ballooning. He spent ccnsiderable time at Aldershot, Ergland, where many experi- ments in this science have been made un- der direction of the British army. In a re- cent sham battle near Aldershot a balloon was used, but although the aercrauts were able to study the movements of the enemy, they could not save the balloon {iself from being captired. The approach of the en- emy, however, was observed, and although T these below were unable to save the bal- locn from capture, the Lalioon signaled to the latter to remove the gas tanks and other supplies ‘to a place of safety. All of this goes to show that the balloon, al- though in peril itself, is an invaluable means of defense and information to the army manipulating it. The English bal- loon, like ors, cannot, of course, be allow- ed to flcat freely in the air. It would be at the mercy of the wind and might float directly over the territory of the enemy and eventually fall within their lines. Every military balloon except that used in Fra ce is a captive. Disadvantages of Balloons. In France the dirigible or steerable bal- loon has reccived considerable attention. The large French war ballcon, known as “La France,” consists of a cigar-shaped envelope containing hydrogen gas. Inside is a smailer bag, which may be pumped full of air, thus keeping the outer envelope stiff and of proper shape. In the car is kept a powerful bichromate battery, which runs an elcctric motor, driving in the rear a very large, light, covered cloth screw propeller. This balloon on the very calm- est of days has made trips of several miles, returning safely to its starting point. The speeC of balloons cf this pattern, however, 13 slow, averaging twelve or four- teen miles an hour, legs than the average velocity of the wind at the heights at which “La France” travels, 1. e., about 1,000 feet high, within the range of com- paratively small firearms. A first-class mortar—the only large gun which will throw a projectile directly upward—will send a ball to the vertical heignt of con- siderably over a mile. The French believe that by doubling the-dimensions of ‘La France” she will trayel twenty-five miles ar. hour, z; In view of these disddyantages in the bal- Icon system of signaling our experimenters are thus looking more toward the perfec- tion of the g2eroplane’or acroscrew idea. The best authorities on flying machines agree that thetr first practical use will be as instruments of war.:Not to take part in actual battle so much, but as a means of ccmmunication. One might be guided over hostile territory, where explosives might be dropped, destroying ‘bridges and other means of communication. A flying machine would be very much ‘Jess likely to be hit by a gun aimed from the earth than would a balloon, on account of its much smalier size, combined with its extreme speed, which some aerodynamisis now believe will scme day reach as high as 200 miles an hour. Owing to the small area exposed by the light frame and vital parts it will be very diMeult to hit, and if struck, the chances are that a ball would go through one of the thin coverings of ‘the wings, without shattering any other part. It not be- leved that an airship will be of much value for cerrying guns heavier than a Maxim repeater, which weighs about sixty or seventy pounds, A successful airship will prebably be able to run several days with- out renewing fuel or water, providing that a sufileiently light alr surface condenser can be perfected. The progress of these experiments will doubtless be watched with world-wide in- terest. Nor does their practical side re- main any longer a matter of vain conjec- ture, Ast was expressed recently to the writer by an expert in these nes, to whom is owed an indebiedness for a greater part of this informeticn: “The perfected flying machine is no longer a thing of specula- tion and possibility, but is in reality a cer- tainty of the very near future.” Se MUSIC OF THE STREETS. Pleasure Given by the Wandering Dispensers of Harmonies. Street music can scarcely be called celes- tial in its harmonies, and there are those having no music in their souls who dub it satanic; but it must be admitted that it plays a prominent part in the enjoyment aud pleasure of thousands whose ears are not attuned to finer expressions of the di- vine muse who dwells in hand organs and harps. Some hand organs do rasp the scul like a rat gnawing a file, butthe owner of the indiscriminating ear minds not the fine distinction between a fiat and a sharp, and even grins at distinct discord, knowing that by so much the sweet notes that come after will be the mcre appreciated. Even the most diabolical of asthmatic old wheezers have a few musical notes, you know. Organ grinders are a cunning class. They know where the children cengregate in the evening, and they know that even the heart of a pessimist warms at the sight of a lot of music-loving little ones, who give ex- pression to their ap- preciation of the ma- chine music in vari- ous and varied ways. The older ones catch up their skirts and twirl and dip and run to the jerky rhythm, “laughing and gestic- » uktting, getting roy- al good sport out of it: The little tots, yet unsteady on their legs and aimos atraid of the o se to childish dignity, stand In open-eyed. approval of the air- splitting strains, and finally, in an ecstasy of enjoyment, grab their abbreviated skirt: and give ludicrous attempts at high ki ng. Many are the bumps this imitation of ballet dancing engemlers, but a kiss makes all well, and soon they are ready to grad- uate into the higher Class of acrobati dancers. Stolid and Immovable the grinder turns the crank, tit his repertoire is run through, his doughty spouse collecting the coppers which are freely given, at the impromptu dancing school may have anoth- non the following event No b efits forgot can be laid at the door of Iial. son, either. His memory is excellent, devotion to the n hborhoed de cons! he communit the nigh infliction of his grist of Ly symphonies and sonatas, and drives him “away. Then there is the ha hesrd him? He is numer: He is always accompanied by another son of Italy, who manipulates the violin with some degree of skill. Between them they dispose of a good many chestnuts in *cavatina and con- certo, song and sere- nade. They do not cater tochildren, and Tather scorn their company. They haunt the homes of | those who aspire to operatic honors and whose souls are tuned to essay the ‘Jewel Song” or “Hear Me, Norma,” “The Heart Bowed Down With W-e-i-g-h-t 0-f W-0-0-e," “ Dre-a-m-t I Dwe-elt in Mar-rble Hal-Is’ and the “Toreador’s Song.” They build wisely. Only a strain or two suifices to open the fountain of tuneful melody in the heart of the singer, and the third bar finds half a block transformed into a stage, and the denizens of the neighborhood vigorous ly shouting, singing or howling, as the case may be, in unison with the aspirant for operatic honors. For an hour perhaps this impromptu con- cert goes on, ard who shall say that this kind of street music is not elevating? Passersby pause and prop themsclyes against the trees, or squat on the coping; sometimes a tuneful youth will take up the strain and whistle it most musically. Unconsciously the fair girl whose volee is her fortune will move forward to catch the finer touch upon the strings that her clear, sweet notes inspire, and, with hands clasp- ted and face turned up to the fast glooming evening sky, she forgets herself and her surroundings and turns her voice loose to soar as it never gets a chance to between four square walls. Perhaps she never realized her power till then. Who dares say that the stroliing players have not lifted her to a higher plane?) When the performance. is over, and the well recom- pensed players have shouldered their Lur- dens and gone on, the people who have been attracted go, too, one humming the last sirain of ‘‘Home, Sweet Home,” another trel- ling a_ half dozen bars of the “Soldier's Chorus,” some one whistling“The Mock- ing Bird,” with ex- quisite Imitation of the feathered song- and many spell of gentle pist! Have you s and insistent. thoughtfully quiet under the music. ‘ Then there fs the; ‘‘aecordion’” man, who is blind and deaf and .dumb—sometimes— and one drops a penny in his cup and hur- ries away, thinking that Providence has been kind to the poor mendicant in depriy- ing him of the power te know what an in- fliction he is with his wr and his horrible machine. mission, imposture though it may Children share their pennies with him, and be. mentally pray that they may be spared his fate. It makes them tender toward the unfortunate, and grateful for health and strength. Though-there are drawhbac Washington, without its street music would not seem half so cheery. = Written for The Evening Star, A Retrospect. A path winds through the arching trees, The sunbeams clance between, And fall in spearlike, quivering gleams To gild the fairy scene; Cool, sloping banks of dewy green Stretch down to the road below, ‘And, where the ferns and grasses wave, Red, star-sheped towers glow. Sad Memory gliding throuzh the past No thrill of pleasure brir But visions of the loved a Bears on her som! With soulless eyes that see And give a They float along m ‘The phantoms of a dres A TIN CUP VERDICT BY ALFRED HENRY LEWIS. , Written for The Evening Star The sun was ‘low toward the western peaks when old Jones and his nephew halted their teams for the night. Old Jones and his relative were freighters, and the crack of their long shot-filled mule whips and the creak of their heavy wagons have been heard in half of the camps of Col- orado. ‘The four wagons tonight were swung in- to the segment of a circle, and the mules were hobbled and cast loose from the straps in which, through the day, they pulled. At this’ relief these grateful slaves stood about and attested their joy in the loud cries peculiar to their kind, but which are so unfortunate in their lack of har- mony. To stop this racket the nephew went about giving them their vesper feed. This he placed in morrels or nose bags, which he hung to their hungry heads. Old Jones built a fire and began the compila- tion of an intricate but savory dish known to those happy ones who have the receipt Supper over, the two freighters sat about in the lurking shadows made by the fire's blink and glimmer, and smoked their pipes. All at once there was a commotion in the band of mules. Those patient folk, who had scrambled and pulled all day over a mountain trail with wagons loaded on the principle of 1,200 pounds to a mule, and who now, in the proprieties of mule life, should be at peace and rest with the world, were charging about snorting in a very ming way. ‘Injuus!” said old Jones, shoving back into the gloom. “Injuns, for a thousand doliars! There ain’t no animals on earth, bar Injuns, ever makes mules take on that a-way.” The nephew thought so, too. Old Jones and the nephew did not fear an attack. There were no Indians about that were not described as friendly. ut what they did fear was that the mules might be stampeded. Stampeding stock is a mighty aboriginal industry. The “Injun"” will stampede yeur cattle or mules and then claim a dollarea head for finding them for you, Thus do these wise sons of nature fill their coffers and exact a revenue from those who cross their lands. Jones’ nephew took a Winchester from the wagons and began to work his cau- tious, silent way toward the mules. These last were etill snorting and shying as if prey to wild alarm. The nephew disap- peared in the darkness. Old Jones placed his hand over his pipe bowl so its flery eye could not be seen and peered after him into the gloom. “Bang! bang! bang!” It was the Win- chester speaking. It told the Indian policy of the border, and a very sufficient good policy it is, too, Old Jones at the sound heaved a little ‘gh but never moved. After a little the nephew came into the fire. He seemed alert, hopeful and unre lenting as to the Winchester Indian polic T you stretch him?” said old Jones. “I think most likely I did,” said the nephew, in a sanguine way. ‘We can tell in the morning, shore.’” The mules were now quiet. Firearms had no terrors for them. They could stand the odor of gunpowder, but of Indians—bah! No mule of taste could stand it a second. After kicking cut the embers of the fire old Jones and his nephew went to sleep. O14 Jones and his nephew had visitors in the morning. The whole Ute tribe and their ageat came down to the freighters’ camp. The mem) of the Jones family at once si thelr Winchesters and alac- riously prepared for war. The Utes ran about, jumping and yelling and demanding vengeance. Old Jones and his nephew stood silent and grim behind their wagons 1 showed their iron teeth, The agent in- don peace. “Would the Jones who had Killed the Ute the night before give cif up? He would be guarded from harm, but the Utes insisted on his arrest. They—the Indian ‘ld attack the wag- ons if the crim 1 not surrender.” So spoke the agent, a nervous little incom- t, as ma: Indian agent is. up on aid Old Jones, de- ively. HW tell them Utes if ‘they nt anything ‘round yere to waltz in and get it.” The Utes howled ané danced still barder and higher at this, and the agent talked more earnestly than ever. He threatened the Jones's with the power of the gov- ernment. This was too much. They would fight the whole Ute tribe, but they were afraid of Uncle Sam. After a brief parley the nephew stepped out and gave himself up to the agent. He would have displayed more sense if he had remained behind his Wagon and died in the smoke of his Win- chester. The agent, the nephew and the Utes did not go a mile toward the agency before the Indians took the nephew, and, tying him to a pine tree, spent several blissful hcurs in torturing him to death. The agent waS powerlcss to interfere. Jones, the elder, found out the truth the evening of the same day. He turned a little paler under the thirty ars’ tan which browned his face, but said nothing. As well as he could, he hitched up his teams and wert ahead. His course was slow. Where the going was easy the rephew’s team—eight mules—could follow the others, and got along all right. Where {t was rough Old Jones halted them, and, after driving his own team over, came back for them. ‘Two months later the old man unloaded Fis freight at a camp in the Gunnison country. He told the story of his nephew’s death, and charged it to the agent. The populace agreed with him to a man. Old Jones insisted the agent should like’ e suffer death. Public sentiment rushed to the same conciusion. Every man in the Tin Cup district who heard of the matter at once advised Jones to go back and kill the miserable agent, or, if that scheme did not suit, to hire some one who would. Never public sentiment so uniform in a matter before. It was beautiful. “Hire some one to go back. Kill the agent!” This struck Old Jones, who had strong commercial instincts, as a good thing. He inquired for some one who would undertake the enterprise. He did not think it should cost much. “Tt is dead easy to do,” he said. “Jest ride ca’mly up to the agency and beef him, and then ride away. That oughtn't to cost no fortune, and he was willin’ to give a hoss and out- ft and $500. “T' go you,” said a bad-looking gentle- man calied Curly Bill, Curly Bill was certainly a very bad man, as anyone might see by examining his six- shooter. He had filed away the sights as superfluous to one so sure and keen, and had taken out the trigger, trusting to ex- plode his Interesting weapon by the simple process of letting the hammer fall from his thumb. These changes in the ground plan of a Colt’s 44 always bespeak a bad man, the wide west over, and such-was Curly Bill, the personage who wanted to hire out to Kill the agent.. Preliminaries were arranged, and the horse and outfit were turned over, in com- pany with $200 of the $300, and Curly Bill rede away on his long pull for the Ute weeks and their happenings were add- ed to history, and so far nothing floated back from Curly Bill. One afternoon he rode again into the camp in the Gunnison country. The public crowded about to learn of his success. Curly Bill got out of the saddle and stepped into a saloon. The pub- ic followed, and at his request took a drink with him. At last Old Jones put the question: “Did you get him, Curly?” “No,” said Curly’ Bill. not? “Weil,” said Curly Bill, with an amiable Grawl, “I'll tell you what's the matter. You see, the cuss offered me $1,000 to come | back and down you There was a profound silence. Old Jones seemed thoughtful and cast down, and the public waited. At last Old Jones put another pertinent inquiry: “Well, whatever do you allow you'll do about it?’ “\Whatever'll you do about it,” said Curly Bill, “will _you raise him?” “S'pose I don't raise him,” sald Ola Jones, “s'pose I don’ even call him?" and an ugly glare began to shine in his wa- tery gray eyes: albeit his voice was low and his face calm. “Well,” said Curly Bill with vast non- chalance, “in that event I reckon I'll have to go him, The public took deep breath at this an- nouncement and Old Jones seemed plunged in thought again. At last he found voice. “I'll think this yere matter over, Bill, and I reckon on fixing up something, 0 you: won't complain none of me. You be yere and I'll come back in an hour.” ‘Then Old Jones preceded straight to his wagons, got his Winchester, and, coming in the back door of the saloon’ wherein Curly Bill was retreshing himself after the campaign, blew that celebrated per- son’s head off without a word. Old Jones then gave himself up to the citizens’ committee and demanded a trial. It was had at once. Every man in camp knew all about the killing and approved it, too. It was esteemed, however, not a proper thing to allow the plot to kill the agent to go abroad to the world. The ac- count might in unskillful hands become garbled and hurt the camp's reputation. So when Old Jones was acquitted,which de- nouement was rapid in {ts coming, the verdict read thus: “Jestified killin’ on account of Curly Bill insultin’ of Old Jones’ wife. This is a piain tale from the Colorado hills, and is what is described in some circles as “straight goods” beside. ABOUT WASH GOODS. Favorite Skirt for Thin Goods and the Question of Linings. A word of advice. Pray don’t try to make up a wash goods gown on a circular skirt patiern, or, in fact, on any of the many gored patterns, because you will come to grief #f vou do. A gown that Is to be washed should never be lired, and the fantastic skirt of numerous gs %res simply has to be lined to make it hang properly. If you don't line it, it Insists en hiking up in front, dragging at the sides and scoop- ing up in the back. If you are so silly as to line ft, and launder it, it comes from the hands of the laundress a perfect sight! he favorite skirt for thin frocks has but one gored width, and that is the front one. it is wide, and slopes a little from the belt to the foot, and has a few gathers in it in- stead of the usual darts. The remainder of the fullness is distributed around the vaist, with a little more in the back than elsewhere. A pretty illustration of this kind of skirt is found in a white Swiss muslin, which ts pretty full all around, and has not a ves- tige of trimming on it, having a simp! rem about four fingers deep. The bodice is round-belted, and just as full at the top as at the bottom, with the fullness shirred down at the shoulders, and the odd effect of long shoulders, formed by shirring the sleeves at the top and hiding it under bows with many loops. The underslip may be of some pretty color, or just white, as so many prefer. Nothing is purer or sweeter than an all-white costume, and if they are not loaded down with lace and embroidery they are the cheapest of summer toilets. It is now an established fact that a broad white hat ‘s the only fit headgear to wear with a floating white gown. Lots of rib- bon, lots of lace and lots of flowers, just a3 many of each as you have endurance to carry around, fs about the preper caper. The French make all their thin frocks ever silk linings! Think of the cost of the things! Sensible American girls make their thin frocks without linings of any kind, and wear inst2ad she long predicted sateen or lawn slivs of any color they like, some- times having two or three for cne gown of organdie or swiss. The difference in the cost Is vast. Old silk party gowns are sometimes utilized for these pretty slips, buf never by any chance are they “made up” with the thin cotton stuff. ———__ COLOR MUSIC. Organ Melody Flashed in Color Tones on a Sereen. From the New York World. A wealthy artist named Rivington, who lives in London, has recently invented and put into operation, at a cost of nearly $ 00, a “color organ,” by means of which, as certain notes are struck, the melody is re- produced in a bewildering succession of color tones and combinations on a screen, at the same instant they are heard by the ear. What the exact details of his instrument. may be, and just how eash color is pro- duced, Mr. Rivington will not divulge. Al that is known is that the new organ" is played upon a keyboard which is almost the exact counterpart of that used for a plano, and that whenever a note is struck its color appears upon the screen. Chords show combinations of tints that are only comparable to harmonic combinations of musical notes, middle C corresponding, for example, to the lew red of the spec- trum. The other C's of the keyboard, when ruck, show yet other reds, toning perfect- ly. Without carrying the description further, it may thus readily be seen how the colors grade, shade and tone, and how the sharp- ening of a piano note or its flattening makes the suggestion of a change in color ardiy to be expressed with a painter's h, yet quite perceptible to the visual senses. In the light of history Rivington’s inven- tion has not.that newness and novelty it would seem to have. So far back as 1734 Father Castel, a French Jesuit, constructed a model of a “color harpsichord.” That this ingenious priest died before his device Was quite perfected does not destroy the originality of his idea nor the priority of his claim. No details of the construction of his instrument have come down to the present day, but so far as can be Iearned it very much resembles Kivington’s “color organ.” 3 o+—__ SCIENCE AND A LOST DOG. Identification of,a Spaniel by Means of the Telephone. From the Chicago Reccrd. Mr. Wieck of 420 Cleveland avenue has a water spanicl, Gyp by name, which he prizes. The other day Gyp strayed away from home. He wandered far down on jhe south side, where he was seen by F. M. Miller, residing near 69th and State streets. Mr. Miller, kncwing a good dog, took Gyp home in his buggy. * Mr. Wieck edvei “1 the loss of his dog and Mr, Miller answered. As lost dogs are numerous, Mr. Wieck did not feel sure that the one about which he received a letter was his, and to save a possible fruitless journey to the south side, he conceived a plan to identify his spaniel without going to him. He went to a telephone station at the corner of Lincoln and Garfield avenues and Mr. Miller went with the dog to the Englewood telephone exchange. The dog was placed upon a table, and when the two men got the line the receiver was placed to Gyp’s evr and Mr. Wieck called the spaniel's name. The dog immediately made demonstrations showing that he recognized ster’s voice. Mr. Wieck’s spaniel ‘it of barking when any one says Mr. Wieck called ire” over the “fire.” wire and the dog began to bark. That set- tled it. Ncw Gyp is at home. See Something Homell W. J. Lamptoa in the New York Sun, The man from the unpolished southwest had been knocking around New York for several days, but his environment didn’t fit him, and the consequence was he was going slightly lame. The clerk at the hotel where he stopped noticed his condi- tion, and once, or twice the guest aised rather disrespectful language concerning the metropolis and its ways-as compared with his own home. Yesterday afternoon, however, a change appeared to have come over the scene, and when he entered the hotel office and leaned up against the courter while the clerk got his key he vas radiant. Vell,” inquired the clerk, like New York by this time?” ain't so dern bad,” responded the vis- “how do you ‘That's what I told you,” was the clerk's comment. “You have got to get used to before you like us.”” “That ain't it. I could stay here a mil- lion years and not git used to yer meetro- politan flub dubs. I ain't bulit fer t thing, and it wouldn't set right on me any more’n a No. 6 shoe will set right on a No 9 foot.” “Then what has happened?” seen Mayor Strong this afternoon.” “Where? In his office.” “What did he do? Ask you out to take a drink Well, no, I ain’t expectin’ the earth.” What was it then?” “Why, by cripes, it was the way he done in his office. He jest set up there chawin’ terbacker and hitsin’ the spittoon plumb center every time, in a way that ackchally made me home sick. I jest set there watch- in’ him and feelin’ better satisfied with New York every minute. Dern me If there'd only been a knot-hole in the floor instid of that chany spittoon, I'd a’ felt so good that I could a’ whooped. I reckon I'll stay in town another day or two. New York ain't so bad when you strike her jist right,” and the guest from Buckskin Bottom went up stairs whistling. oe Hubb at Home. From Life. The Husband (seeing his wife off)—“You ust promise not to ask for money every time you writ! ‘The Wife—“But that would necessitate my writing so much oftener.” HOMOEOPAT. MUNYON'’S Rheumatism Cnre never fails to relieve in three hours and cure os eke ' N’S Dyspepsia Cure is guare anteed to correct constipation and onare all forms of indigestion and stomach’ Sona UNYON’'S Catarrh Cure soothes and heals the afflicted parts and restores them to health. No failure; a cure guaranteed, MUNYON’S Kidney Cure speedily cures pains in the back, loins or groins and all forms of kidney disease. MUNYON'S Nerve Cure cures neryouse ness and builds up the system. : MUNYON’S Vitalizer imparts new life, restores lost powers to weak and debilitae ted men. Price $1.00. No matter what the disease is or hove many doctors have failed to cure you, ask our druggist for a 25-cent vial of one of Munyon’s Cures, and if you are not benee fited your money will be refunded. A SPLENDID SCOOP. Owing to Alcoholic Influence Ht Got Into the Wrong Newspaper Oilice. Many funny things happen on a news- paper. A story was recently told a Stap writer, which may bear repetition. There was a very excellent reporter at work on one of the Chicago papers. This was some three years ago, and the poor fellow is dead now, and has his little monument, While one of the best reporters in ihe city, like many another bright man of his craft, he would now and then give way to drink, On several occasions when he should have been very sober he had chosen to he very drunk, and at last received warning from the city editor that his next lapse would mean his dismissal from the local fot Being a gentleman not very much in« clined to allow his work to interfere with his drinking, he heeded not the warning of his superior, and it was not four days be= fore he turned up for his assignments too full for utterance. That settled it. The city editor let him go. Still, so good a man Was not apt to want a position long. He poner connected himself with the Tri< une. The next day after he had left his former paper he took an assignment on the Tri« bune and departed in search of a story, But he hadn’t quite got over his spree, and on his way to the facts stopped incidental+ ly at a restaurant for the purpose of being refreshed. As very often eecurs, he became so much refreshed that he never left the restaurant- for the following twelve hours, He utterly abandoned the assignment siven him by the city editor of the Tribune, and put in his whole afternoon and ning quaffing those drinkable things which cheer and also tnebriate. It fell out, however, that while abardon= ing his assicnment, a big piece of what might be cailed “anarchistic news” drifted in to him. Chicago is always excited over a story of anarchists and their dcings, and while our friend was quaffing brown Octo- ber ale, some of his socialistic acquaint- ances drifted in, and among other stirring matters told him a story of what was com- ing to pass in local socialistic circies. It was a story which was caiculated to make a great sensation. Sandy, for such was our newspaper friend’s name, realized that he had hold of a big piece of news. He thought that were he to write it up it might resiore him to that favor on the Tribune which he felt certala that by falling down on his fi as- signment he had forfeited forever. He got half a ream of the saloon keeper's letter paper and retiring to a beer table not otherwise engaged he wrote his auar-hist story. Then came the question of getting his copy to the city editor without mecting that functionary face to face. Sand: care to risk an interview, for he ki a glance of the eagle eye of the cit: would inform that wise and exp person exactly how drunk he was. His restoration must be worked throuxh the story, and the story’s chance of sucvess must not be jeopardized by any perscnal interview with his superior, Sandy, In a state of profound and crafty. meditation, wended his way to the news- paper building. He turned in to the busi- ness office and gave one of the boys behind the counter the “copy,” with Instructions to send it up to the city editor. He then returned to the saloon and completed the evening. The next morning Sandy arose with the usual disagreeable feeling in his head which attends late visjtors at such places of the night before, and at once got a copy of the Tribune to note how his story had been handled, and to infer what comfort he could from it before going down to see the city editor, A feeling of dull grief seized him when his fearch through the paper dig- closed neither hide nor hair of his story. ane, was very much disappointed, and mentioned as much to a close friend of his, who also worked on the Tribun “Why,” said the close friend, “I saw your story in the —,” being the paper from which Sandy had been dismissed. And so it was. Sandy, foggy with the nut- brown ale,had sought the wrong newspaper office and had sent up his anarchistic story, not to the city editor of the Tribune, but to the city editor by whom he had’ just been dismissed. That intelligent official res garded the whole affair as a good jo’ He knew Sandy's handwriting and saw at a glance just how the mistake had been made. But he ran the story just the same, and made a clean scoop on all the other Chicago papers. How Sandy cianesel to explain matters His at the Tribune. o: excuses must, how ice is not known. er, have bee: factory, for he worked there, and r did work, too, until the day of his death, Dki She Get the Balloon? From the Atlanta Constitution. A handsome young woman with a beaue tiful Httle girl of four years sat in a crowd- ed Market street car yesterday. “You've got on mamma’s dress, haven't you, Aunt Alice?” remarked the child. Aunt Alice flushed and called attention to a balloon man on the corner. “Yes, the last time mamma wore that+ dress down town she bought me a balloon, Will you buy me one, Aunt Alice?” res, if you'll be good.” “Oh, I'll be good. Do you like mamma’s hat? It makes you look awful pretty, Aunt Alice.” “There, be a good girl. S@e that woman irl?” out there with a little ‘There was a period of silence and Aunt Alice breathed a sigh of relief. Then the child inquired: “Did mamma _say you could wear her pin, Aunt Alice? She wouldn't let me wear it, “cause she was afraid I would lose it.’ “Yes, of course. Do he quiet, Nel “Will you buy me a balloon’ then? “Ye “All right; then take mamma’s parasol. I don’t want to carry it any longer, ‘cause I couldn't carry it and a balloon too. Haven't you got any Lest dress of your own, Aunt Alice?” Aunt Alice yanked the ttle girl out of the car by the arm, and the chances are that she got no balloon. a Large Catch of Turtles. From the Jacksonville Citizen, The sloop Waterwitch, Captain W. M. Greenleaf, after a three weeks’ cruise, re- turned to Jupiter laden with turtles of ale most every description. Their catch con- sisted of twenty of the hawkbill varicty, fifty logzerheads, averaging from % to 300 pounds, and three green turtles, the smallest of them weighing about 3 pounds, while the largest will weigh fully 500 pounds. This one will be kept alive at this place until Mr. Greenleaf can find a purchaser for him. Mr. Greenleaf states that this turtle at Key West would bring 20 cents per pound, gross. The sloop was anchored alongside the dock when the work of butchering the entire lot of turtles began. Several bushels of eggs were removed from these turtles. ‘The meat was quartered up and a con- siderable quantity sold to the citizens who congregated in great numbers about the dock. ‘The remainder of the t was put in pickle, which, Mr. Greenleaf says, will sell readily at about 18 cents per pound. The shell of the hawkbill turtle, which is taken off the scales from the back, sells from $8 to $10 per pound. About thirty-six pounds of this shell was procured from these twenty turtles,