Evening Star Newspaper, July 27, 1895, Page 15

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JULY 27, 1895—-TWENTY PAGES. BY STANLEY J. WEYMAN, (Copyright, 1895, by Irving Bacheller.) It was in the spring of the year 1609 that @t tho king’s instance I had a suite of partments fitted up for him at the Ar- nal, that he might visit me, whenever it Pleased him, without putting my family to inconvenience; in another place will be found an account cf the six thousand crowns a year which he was so obliging as to allow me for this purpose. He honored Me by using these rooms, which consisted of a hail, a chamber, a wardrobe and a closet, two or three times in the course of that year, availing himself of my attend- @nts and cook; and the free opportunities of consultirg me on the Great Undertak- ing which this plan afforded led me to hope that nothwithstanding the envy of my detractors he would continue to adopt it. That he did rot do so, nor ever visited me after the clese of that year, was due Bot so much to the lamentable event, soon to be velated, which within a few months deprived France of her greatest sovereign, @s to a strange matter that attended his Jast stay with me. I have since had cause to think that this did not receive at the time as much attention as it deserved; and Rave even imagined that had I groped a little deeper into the mystery I might have found a ciue to the futtre as well as the past, and averted once more, and the last, danger from my beloved master. But Providence would not heve it so; a slight indisposition under which I was suffering @t the cime rendered ma less able, both in (mind and 9dody, the result teing that Hen- 3y, who wis always averse to the publica- “What is This?” She Asked. ion of there ominous episodes, and held that being known they bred the like in mischievous minds, had bis way, the case ending ir no mote than the punishment of ® careless rascal. On the cccasion of this last visit—the third, I think, that he paid me—the king, who had ben staying at Chantilly, came to me frcm Lusarche, where he lay the {intervening ulght. My ccaches went to meet him at the gates a little before noon, but he did not immediately arrive, and ing at leisure and having essured my- self that the dinner of twelve covers,which he had directed to be ready, was in course of preparation, I went with my wife to in- pect his rooms and satisfy myself that everything was in order. They were in charge of La Tiape, a man of address and intelligence, whom E have had caus: to mention more than once in the course of *tese memoirs. He met me @t the door end conducted us through the rooms with an air of satisfaction; nor could I find the slightest fault, until my wife, looking about her with a woman's eye for minute things, paused by the hed fn the chamber, and directed my attention to something on the floor. She stooped over it. at is this?” she asked. “Hzs something teen——" “Upset here?” I said, looking also. There ‘was a little pool of white liquid on the floor beside the bed. La Trape uttered an exclamation of an- Moyance, and explained that he had not Been it before, that it had not been there five minvtes earlier, and that he did not know how it came to be there now. “What is it?” I said, locking about for some pitcher that might have overflowed, but finding none. “Is it milk?” “I don’t know, your excellency,” he an- Bwered. “But it shall be removed at once.” “See that it is," I said. “Are the boughs im the fireplace fresh?” For the weather ‘was still werm and we had not lit a fire. Yes, your excellency; quite fresh.’ ‘Well, see to that, and remove it,” I sald, pointing to the mess. “It looks ill.” And with that the matter passed from ™my mind; the more completely as I heard at that moment the sound of the king’s approach, and went Into the court yard to | receive him. He brought with him Roque- laure, de Vic Erari, the engineer, and some others, but none whom he did not know that I should be glad to receive. He dined well, and after dinner amused himself with seeing the young men ride at the ring, and even rode a course himself with his usual skill; that being, If I remember rightly, the Jast occasion on which I ever saw him take a lance. Before supper he walked for a time in the hall, with Sillery, for whom he had sent; and after supper, pronouncing himself tired, he dismissed all, and retired with me to his chamber. Here we had some talk on a subject that I greatly dreaded—I_ mean his infatuation for Madame de Conde; but about 11 o'clock he yawned, and, after thanking me for a re- ception which he said was quite to his mind, he bade me go to hed. I was half way to the door when he called me back. “Why, grandmaster,” he sald, pointing to the little table by the of the bed on which his night drinks Stood, “you might he going to drown me. Do you expect me to drink all these in the night?” “I think that there fs only your pos: sire,” I said, “and the lemon water w yar generally drink.” “And two or three other things?” “Perhaps they have given your majesty fome of the Arbois wine that you were to—" he said, lifting the cover of one of the cups. “This is not wine. It be a milk posset. “Yes, sire; very likely,” I said drowsily. he answered, when he ‘It is piain milk! Come, ontinued, looking drolly . “have you turned leech or TI babe in arms that you put such strong liquors before me? However, to show you that I have some childish tastes left, and-am not He Henitated. ved as you have been trying to out for the last hour—T will drink Ith In it. It would serve you right you pledge me in the same The eup was at his lips when I sprang forward and, heedless of ceremony, caught his arm. ‘Pardon, sire!’ I cried, in sud- den agitation. “If that fs milk, I gave no order that it should he placed here; and I know nothing of its origin. I beg that you will not drink it, until I have made some inquiry.” “They have all been tasted?” he asked, still holding the cup in his hand with the Nd raised, but looking at it gravely. “They should have been!” I answered. “But La Trape, whom I made answerable for that, is outside. I will go and ques- tion him. If you will wait, sire, a mo- t- men Henry said. “Have him here.” “No, I gave the order to the pages who were waitirg outside, and in a moment La Trape appeared, looking startled and uncomfort- able. Naturally, his first glance was given to the king, who had taken his seat on the edge of the bed, but still held the cup in his hand. After asking the xing’s permis- sion, I said: “What drinks did you place on _the table, here, sirrah?’’ He looked more uncomfortable at this, but he answered boldly enough that he had served a posset, some lemon water and some milk. “But orders were given only for the lemon water and the posset,” I said. “True, your excellency,” he answered. “But when I went to the pantry hatch, to see the under butler carry up the tray, I found that the milk was on the tray; and I supposed that you had given another order.” “Possibly Madame de Sully,” the king said, looking at me, “gave the order to add it?” a “She would not presume to do 80, sire, I answered, sternly. “Nor do I in the least understand the matter. But at ‘one thing we can easily arrive. You tasted all of these, man?” La Trape said he had. “You drank a quantity, a substantial quantity -of each—according toe the orders to you?” I persisted. es, your excellency.”” But I caught a guilty look in his eyes, and in a gust of rage I cried out that he Med. “The truth!” I thundered, in a ter- rible voice. “The truth, you villain; you did not taste all?” “I did, your excellency; as God is above, I did!” he answered. But he had grown pale, and he looked at the king in a ter- rified way. “You did “Year Yet I did not believe him, and I was about to give him the lie again, when the King intervened. “Quite so,” he said to La Trape, with a smile. “You drank, my gdod fellow, of the posset and the lemon water, and you tasted the milk, but you aid not drink of it. Is not that the whole truth?" “Yes, _ sire, he whimpered, breaking dcwn. “But I—-I gave some to a cat.” “And the cat is no worse?” ‘0, sire.” “There, grand master,” the king said, turning to me, “that is the truth, I think. What do you say to it?” “That the rest is simple,” I answered, grimly. “He did not,drink it before, but he will drink it now, sire.” The king, sitting on the bed, laughed and looked at La Trape, as if bis good nature almost led him to interpose. But, after a moment's hesitation, he thought better of it, and handed me the cup. “Very well,” he said; “he is your man. Have your way with him. After all, he should have drunk on “He shall drink it now, or be broken on the wheel!” I said. “Do you hear, you?’ I continued, turning to him in a white heat of rage at the thought of his negligence, and the price it might have cost me. “Take it, and beware that you do not drop or spill it. For I swear that that shall not save you!” He took the cup with a-pale face, and hards that shook fo.much that he needed both to support the ‘vessel. He hesitated, too, so long that, had I-not possessed the best of reasoas for believing in his fidelity, I should have supected him of more than negligence. The shadow of his tall figure seemed to waver on the tapestry behind him, and, with a little jmagination, I might have thought that the lights in the reom had stunk. The soft. whispering- of the pages outside could be heard, and a stifled Iaugh, but ‘inside there was not a seund. He carried the cup to,his lps, then he lowered it again. I took a step forward. He recoiled a pace, his face ghastly. “Patience, exceilency,” he said, hoarsely. a shall drink ft. But I want to speak rat.” peak!’ the king answered. “If there is death in it, I take God to witness that I know nothing, and knew rothing! There is some witch's work here —it is not the first time that I have come across this devil's milk today! But I take God to witness I know nothing! Now it is here, I will drink it, and gs z He did not finish the sentence,, but,.draw- ing a_deep breath, raised the cup to his lips. I saw the apple in his throat’ rise and fall with the effort he made to swal- low, but he drank $0 slowly that it seemed to me that he would never drain the cup. Nor did he, for when he had swallowed, as far as I could judge from the tilting of the cup, about half of the milk, Henry rose suddenly, and, seizing it, took it from’ him with his own hand " Bo! ¢ “That will do,” the king’ 8a! 2) ‘ou feel i117” = x La Trape drew a trembling hand across his brow, on which the sweat stood in beads, but instead of answering he re- mained silent, gazing fixedly before him. We waited and watched, and, at length, when I should think three minutes had elapsed, be changed his position for one of greater ease, and I saw his face relax. The unnatural pallor faded, and the open ips closed. A minute later he spoke. “I feel nothing, sire,” he said. , The king looked at me’ drolly. “Then take five minutes more,” he said. “Go, and stare at Judith there, cutting off the head of Holofernes’—for that was the story of the tapestry—“and come when I call you.” Lu Trape went to the other end of the chamber. “Well,” the king said, invit- ing me by a sign to sit down beside him, “is it a comedy ar a tragedy, my friend? Or, tell me, what was it he meant when he said that about the other milk?” I explained, the matter seeming so trivial now that I came to tell it—though it had doubtless coutributed much to La Trape’s fright—that I had to apologize. “Still It is odd,” the king sald. “These drinks were not here at that time, of course?” “No, sire; they have been brought up within the hour.” “Well, your butler must explain it.” And with that he raised his vioce and called La Trape back; who came, looking red and sheep'sh. (To be continued Monday.) e+ Long Ago. - Chambers’ Journal. h From daylight’s lngert And song birds «eek the nest— When shadows fail o'er hill and plain, And stars In heaven glow, We live in memory once again ‘The days of long ago. And friends of days forever o'er Around us closely stand, We feel the Kindly grasp once more Of many a “vanished hand;” And though fond, loyal, brave and true May be the friends we know, No friends can match the friends we knew And loved long, long ago. Though smiling fortune on us shower Her gifts with right good will— ‘Thongh ‘every passing day and hour Be filled with sunshine still— Though Joys and pleasures deep abound Upon the way we go, We sigh and dream o'er joys we found In days of long ago. And thonzh we form new friends, new tfes, New joys, new pleasures try, And though new hopes lke phantoms rise wo tears: ene bee ~ ve love, we hope, we plan and gri ‘Again ‘In Long Ago, = aun ————se+ An Engnging Sprite. The summer girl, with a dimple in her chin and a freckle on her nose, met the staid brunette on the lawn in front of the hotel. “Where are you going?” freckle. “Up to the hotel to see the Braytons about our card party for this evening. Can't you join us?" “It's ever so kind I don’t think I can." “Why not?" “Oh, because.” “That's no reascn. You haven’t any en- gagement for this evening, have you?” “N—n—no,"" hesitated the freckle, “but I expect to have one. Frank Is coming to call, and he has been showing signs of pro- posing fcr nearly a week.” inquired the of you to ask me, but FOR SLEEPLESSNESS ‘Take Horsford’s Aeld Phosphate. ‘Dr. Patrick Booth, Oxforf, N. C., says: seen it act admirably in insomnia, espe ‘old people and convalescents. A refreshing im hot weather and i cases of fevers.” ve ally of WHEN THEY MARRY It is Found That Domestic Ac- complishments Are Useful. IF WOHEN WOULD NOT FALL IN LOVE Then Education That Leaves the Home Life Out Might Do. SERVANTS AND FOOD Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. OB WENT OFF angry with me, and —oh, I am so un- happy!” It was really pa- thetic, the manner in which Rena told me why she met me with red eyes ond grieved, quivering lips, when I ran in to see her on my way to market the other morning. She an- swered the bell ner- self, which surprised me a little, for she has just a wee bit of objection to doing that sort of thing. Rena and Bob have not been married very long—six months, I think—arid they have had trials enough for it to have been six years. Rena her- seif is a very excellent sort of a young wo- man. She has ability above the average in many directions, graduated with honors, and created quite a flutter in her one sea- son out. I never did approve of the manner in which she was reared, however; and if I were so minded I might fling “I told you s2” in her mother’s teeth. I have known Rena’s mother a great many years. She was a selfish, overbearing girl, and she married a man for his money. She got the money, but not much else that was worth having, and she simply soured on mankind, male kind, more properly speaking, and she set to work to rear her three girls to do the same. Oddly enough, while teaching them to be men haters she also tried to make them lovers of men’s work. She stood between them and the acquirement of any domestic accomplishments, as well as she could, di- rected their tastes toward the law, medi- cine, art, anything, In fact, but matters of interest to home lovers. I think without any doubt whatever they were the most utterly ignorant creatures about anythiag appertaining to household matters that ever Wore gowns and screeched at mice. Of course, while they were at home and had plenty of money and well-trained ser- vants it did not seem necessary to learn those hemely accomplishments which make a lovely woman yet more lovable in the eyes of a man who Is seeking some one to help him make a home. If the stockings that they were to put on fresh had holes in them they could throw them in the mending basket for the sewing woman «nd put on new ones. If the gown sleeve had a dropped stitch the sewing woman was at hand to take it up. If the gloves for a certain dress were ripped, the sewing woman fixed them at once. Rena could write a page of music, but she would have ruined the plano polish if she had undertaken to dust it; she could mix paints as deftly as need be, but to have eaten a pudding of her mixing would have been as disastrous as a dose of Paris green. She could have passed examination as pharmacist—she really had a leaning toward medicine—but was as ignorant as an ostrich of the simplest formula for yeast bread or the quantity of sugar for a vint of jelly. She could do a “century” on her wheel and rever whimper, tennis was child’s play, and she was no mean oppon- €nt at athletic sports of the more vigorous kinds. Advanced Views and Marriage. , you can imagine the appalling con- dition of affairs confronting a couple where both man and wife are given to the same pleasures and whose tastes are iden- tical, especially. when, as in this case, both have been reared in well-appointed homes, are fond of Juxury, as well as ignorant of hew to produce it, and have a modest $1,000 a year to live upon, when each has been used to as much or more individually since arriving at an age to spend money. Rena’s mother told me once that she want- ed her daughters to be “advanced women,” freed from the bonds of the down-trodden sex and able to cope with the whole wide world if necessary. That is very good in theory, but while the “advanced woman” is getting ready to do the Minerva act, she #hould also pre- pare herself to do battle with servants who are cnly a shade less ignorant than her- self. The advanced woman swears in the beginning of her fatuous career that she will not marry, and it would be much bet- ter for suffering humanity if she stood by that vow, but she doesn’t. She surrenders ignominiousiy and without reservation wken love takes posscssion of her heart, forgets her “career” and becomes as ab- ject a slave to the whims of her friend the enemy, man, és the most shrinking, timid domestic creature alive. And that brings me back to Bob and Rena, who are the present cause of this moralizing. “What is the particular griev- ance this morning?” I asked, as we went into the cozy ttle back parlor, which was also the breakfast room. You see, I had expected just such domestic cataclysms. Most all their friends had applauded the “splendid match” between two people of twin tastes. Twin tastes are all right, but let me tell you that one of those twins has got to have a taste for managing and sav- ing, while the other is making to spend, or the home they fondly hope to set up will be a hollow mockery. All “gee,” or all “haw,” will demoralize any pair under a yoke. Trials With Servants. “It’s servants!” replied Rena, with a Iit- tle sob. “We have had four this month, and we had six last. They get mad because Bob interferes about the cooking. He can't eat ‘sody’ biscuits, as one of the cooks called them, and because I suggested some- thing to bleach them so that he wouldn't know that they were made of soda, the girl got mad and said she wouldn't injure her reputation living with such an ignor- ant mistress! She slept at home nights. ‘The next cook seemed to use a great deal of sugar. Mamma said that twenty pounds a week for two people was scandalous, and when I mentioned it Mary said I was too stingy for any use. “Then the next girl was a nice little Ger- man, as clean and honest and quick as could be; but oh, she was so ignorant. She could do a very few German dishes, but Bob hates Dutch cooking, and I couldn’t tell her how to do anything, because I know nothing about it, so I had to let her go, though she would have been a jewel, if she had been trained. She was quite young. And so it goes. We cannot afford a high- priced cook, who could go ahead and do everything, and leave me free to pursue my lectures with Bob, so I have to worry along with common servants, who are as helpless as myself outside of plain boiling, frying and stewing. Those who have cared to sleep in the house object to the room. They say it 1s dark and unhealthy, and they would rather sleep in the unfinished attic than down there. I think servants are far too exact- ing! This mofning the last girl failed to come at all, and I tried to get breakfast myself. I know I made an awful mess of it, but I do think Bob was most un-k-kin-d to s-say that g-girls ought to all learn how to c-cook before they get m-married!” And at last the tears that were so close to the surface burst forth. Poor, misguided girl! I did feel so sorry for her, and for Bob, too. Like all men, he thinks that cooking and housekeeping are inherent gifts, and that a woman who lacks 'the talent is deficient in womanliness. He is right in the last conclusion, though wrong in the first. A woman may not have the talent, and she may detest housekeep- ing, but she should learn it as she would any other accomplishment, since upon it will depend the happiness of her home, if she ever has one, and eyen a girl bachelor must have a home, if she has any independ- ence of character at all. Between sobs Rena managed to impart the information that her mother had recommended that if she and Bob couldn't get along, they had better separate before there were any chil- dren to complicate matters! Now, wasn’t that nice advice?-And from a mother, too! Something en] the Other Side. “T love Bob, and I don’t intend to act the fool!” declared Rena-at last, sitting up to wipe ‘her eyes. “The root of this whole trouble lies in theghfind trying to lead the blind. Bob’s :nother never taught him to have any regard gog. the domestic woman or for the feelings @f the servants, and he hasn’t the slightést-idea what they have to put up with.,I. never was taught it either, and I ually culpable. We can’t live this way, and my Bob's happi- ness is worth twenty careers to me. Now, please sit down and tell me where to begin the reformation.”, I forgot my matiating in: the long talk, but Bob will have better breakfasts after this, if we did area, get along with only berries for luach-an@ beefsteak for dinner. I told Rena of a nice, quiet little woman, too frail for hard work, but a motherly body, who would come and help her to learn all thit she ought to know about house and homekeeping. Suddenly I be- thought me of -he objection to the serv- ant’s room. So I asked to see it. If you will believe me, I don’t think a well con- ditioned cat could have existed long in that room. It was small and dark and ill-yentil- ated and bare of ornament. “Mamma said it was quite good enough for servants,” said Rena, as she saw my look of disapproval. “I thought it ought to be used as a store room, and the hall room given to the cook, but mamma said it would never do in the world to have the cook next to the guest chamber, so I said no more about it.” Yet, as I happened to know, the hall chamber stood empty, and probably would for aye. Another sample of the exquisite selfishness of Rena’s mother. She has been shrieking for “equality before the law,” for Women, ever since I can remember, and laboring to “‘raise them to a higher plane,” yet here she was, when she had a chance to put her theory into practice, degrading her sex instead of trying to ameliorate tts condition, and was breeding in the hearts of the serving classes a dislike for those who must be served, because she was un- willing to make their surroundings pleasant and agreeable. The Golden Rule Comes In. It was a very serious mistake which Rena made, and which thousands of women make, in thinking that the small week!y stipend paid for actual service discharg2s all obligations toward those who serve us. The servant problem is a knotty one, and I don’t propose to try to split it, but I told Rena, and I repeat it here, that we have got to remember that servants have souls as well as ourselves. They have hearts, too. The devotion of long time servitors to ‘hose who have befriended them has formed -the basis for many a tale of ro- mantic character, and that day of devotion is _not passed. It should be the aim of every woman to procure good servants. Then she must treat them as though they were flesh and blood like herself, with hearts to be made happy, souls that are as well worth saving as those of the inhabitants of Samoa or Suristan. It may not always be within your power to pay high wages, but that matter Is always understood when people enter your service. You can be kindly con- siderate of those under your roof tree, though, and provide them with clean,whole- some quarters and pure food. It is true that your kindness Is often repaid by in- gratitude, but are all your friends “pure gold?” Do you not find ingrates among them, when you least expect it? ‘Treating servants. kindly does not mean that you must assoclate with them, invite them to your table, into your parlor. Such action would probably embarrass them quite as mifth as it does you. Then, too, it Is only a brute: who says ofthe horse that he hires, “itiwasinot bought with my money, and I don’t/care..how, hard. I drive: it.” So the mistress. would be a brute who said, “I hire this wontan.and pay her price, her labor belongs to me, and she has no right to get tired pr il or to want to have company.” st I think that Rerazhas got hold of the horns of the dilemma, but just think what a lot of heartacha;Bhemight have saved if she had accepted the: fact from. the first that there comes;a tim> to.every woman who is not a freak ;when she would like to be the mistress of a home,.ard. possess the l6ve of some;good man, and had pre- pared herself for the emergency When men take to wearing dresses, there may come a reversal of the division of labor, but against that umhappy time the girl who wants: to bea sutcess in life had better prepare herself for intelligent management of a home and ‘help. SENORA SARA. HE FR) SED THE SLAVE. An Incident in’ the Life of Gov. Oxiesby. Chicago Letter to the Boston Advertiser. Somel-ody once asked Goy. Oglesby how it happened that he, though a Kentuckian, had grown up an abolitionist. “One of the principal causes,” he an- swered, “was a negro whom we called Uncle Tim. He was a slave who had de- scended from my grandfather to my father and was the only one in the family, _ My father died, when I was a small boy and we became embarrassed, and in order to divide up what little there was left Uncle Tim had to be sold. I well remember him as he stood up on a box ready for the sale. He Was a powerful man, far above the average height, with a manly Dearing, a fine face and a skin as black as ebony. He had al- ways been very fond of us children, and I thought almost as much of him as if he 2 been my own father. As he stood waiting he implored, with tears streaming from his eyes, a brother of my father to buy him. That was impossible, and observ- ing his dejection and surmising its cause, I said nele Tim, I am going to work to earn money, and when I get enough I will buy You and set you free.” “His face lighted up with pride and pleas- ure as I said this, but it was immediately followed by a look of despair. He came down, lifted me up in his arms and said, sadly: ‘Thanks, Marse Dick; you are a poor orphan and won't never be rich enough to buy Uncle Tim.’ He was sold, and, being past his prime, only brought some $400. “I moved to Illinois in time; I struggled; I went back to Kentucky and grew no richer. I used to see Uncle Tim occasion- ally, and I Siways assured him that some day I would buy him. He always seemed to listen to me gratefully, but apparently had no hope of success. In 184) I went to California, and, after much effort, I made a few thousand dollars and then returfed to fulfil my promise. I sent the money to fay Erother, and Uncle Tim was purchased and freed. “I was standing .in front of the porch of my brother's house some days later, when Uncle Tim came out of_a piece of woods a little distance away and approached along the pathway. It was a striking picture, such as I never before witnessed. He was a giant in stature; his abundant gray hair was thrown back on his shoulders, his face Was ashen, reminding one of the statue of Moses by Michael Angelo. His countenance was aglow, and shone as if lighted by the very presence of the Holy Ghost. When he caught sight of me he stcpped, threw back his head, raised his arms far above him, and exclaimed: ‘My God! My God! Has the little orphan boy lived to buy and set me free?’ Then he put his arms about me and tried to lift me agin the old days, but he had grown too; weak and I had grown too large. ‘You ¢an’t, lift me any more, Uncle Tim,’ I said, ‘No,’ he answered in a sad tone, and then, with exulting air, he shouted, as he turned his face toward the sky: ‘Hallelujah! Hallelujah! I’se free!” e+ —___ Carrying Out Huxley’s Order. From the Westminster Budget. Professor Huxley used to tell excellent stories. One of the best I remember, which he afterward put, I think, into a letter to the Times, referred to’ the meeting of the British Association at Belfast many years ago. Having been pp very late the previous night, Huxley was behind time for break- fast, so hailing an outside car he said to the driver as he jumped on, “Now drive fast, Iam in a hurry.” Whereupon he whipped up his horse and set off at a hard gallop. Nearly jerked off his seat, Huxley shouted, “My good friend, do you know where I want to go?" ‘No, yer honner,” sald the driver, “but, anyway, I am driv- ing fast.” Huxley used to say he had never forgotten that object-lesson in the dangers of ill-regulated enthusiasm. ———-+e-+ An Egg Sells for $823. From the London Telegraph. An egg of the great auk has come into the hands of Messrs. Jay, Regent street, for 165 guineas. The specimen was taken in Iceland sixty-five years ago by a St. Malo shipowner, who bequeathed it to the Comte Raoul de Berace, whose collection was purchased by Baron d’Hamonville. It is slightly cracked, but in coloring and text- ure is said to be unique. ON THE ‘STREZT CARS. Glimpses of Human Nature That Are Amusing and Annoying. Travel is an education, you have heard @ great many people say, and of course they must not except street cars. One can see more kinds of human nature, and more of each kind to the nickel’s worth in a street car than anywhere else on earth, and to the street cars, in Washington, must be added the huge carryalls, called “‘herdics.” ‘There may be education in street car trav- el, but it’s a kind that one wants to get rid of speedily, as it has naught to do with Highest of all in Leavening Power— Latest U.S. Gov't Report Royal A 15 Baking Powder useful knowledge or polite manners. Big sleeves are the terror of the hour to conductors, and in the herdics they are an abomination—to the woman who wears them, and to the person who has to sit next to them. A funny episode took place in a herdic Monday evening. There were three young ladies in a row on one side, the sleeves of their spick and span new or- gandies|and lawns standing out like an in- flated balloon and almost filling up the whole side of the vehicle. On the opposite side were four young ladies, in like regu- lation, inflated sleeves, and the writer wo- man. There entered a young male creature and another pair of faultlessly inflated sleeves attached to a Young Thing, and seats were made for the two orposite the writer wo- man, The manner in which sleeve touched ABOUT DUST CLOAKS, They Are Extremely Stylish and Can Be Becoming. If you are going to travel on land a dust cloak is a fashionable necessity. You may not really need it, but it is the thing to have, so get one. You remember the hor- rible things in brown grass-cloth and brown linen which were la mode a few years back? And how they rumpled and got unaccountable grease spots that you could only eradicate with a pair of shears and a piece of temper? Well, don’t jump to the conclusion that those things are worn again, for they are not. The dust cloak of now is an etherealized creation of almost any color of silk, In stripes or plaids or checks, but should be of dark shades. You can make it up lke an un- lined teagown minus a train, and put two big pockets on the hips, a frill and stream- ers at the neck and lace most anywhere, and that will be a “dust cloak.” Really, it is a very nice idea. A woman likes to look well traveling, but she just can’t if the mercury is climbing the hun- dredth round, and her stiff collar is drip- ping, and her dress skirt hot and dusty, and you know it. But she can change that in a jiffy with the dust cloak, for she will slip into the toilet room and jerk off that skirt and blouse waist, and slip into the loose unlined silk business, bring it round in front and button it—it must have some big buttons down the front—and after fold- ing up the hot things she took off, she can go back to her seat, conscious that she looks £8 cool as she feels, and that she is even refreshing for the bored fellow travel- ers to look at. sleeve was really quite artistic, and the Poor little man was quite hidden from view under sleeves and spreading skirts. Enter an Elderly Woman, with common sense stamped on every feature. She glanced down the seats, but not a_ sleeve moved. She asked the Young Thing if there was not room beside her, for all she could see of the male creature was a dark spot between the spread out gowns. The Young Thing said she couldn’t afford to have her sleeves crushed. The Elderly Woman asked if she had paid for seats for the sleeves, and got for reply a look that ought to have annihilated her, but only amused her. Having got her change and paid her fare, the Elderly Woman calmly turned around and plumped herself down on the lap of the male creature.’ Naturally he squirmed, and slid out of the place as she got up and turned her “specs” on him. “Little boy.” she said sweetly, “I really beg your pardon, your ma ought to carry you on her lap. You'll get hurt that way These dust cloaks are made of glorias, lansdown and mohair. Mohair scratches lke the mischief, however, so you had better substitute black India silk, which is cheap, and not open to the objection of snagging easily. The taffetas in fine stripes and checks are used, and a few faddish girls have actually essayed white duck and pique dust cloaks. Of course they are absurd, for they muss so quickly, then they are hot, and entirely defeat the pur- pose for which dust cloaks are made. ———_—_ Ribbons Galore. ‘The frenzy for ribbon garniture grows apace. No wide sashes are seen, but a fa- vorite fancy, and one that is rather pretty if the gown is only daintily neat, is a belt of the ribbon, and four rosettes with one long end each, reaching to the bottom of the frock, placed each side of the front and the same way in the back. Sometimes these are supplemented by straps of ribbon |} on either side, and who scowls if one of some day.” And then everybody laughed but the Young Tring and the male crea- ture, and they got out as soon as they could stop the herdic. They had learned their lesson, though. Then there is the woman who goes to market, and who gets into the car, carry- ing a huge basket, filled with onions and Limburger, grated horseradish, fish and “ripe” game, and carrying two or ‘hree miserable fowls dangling by their string- tied legs. Her basket is a stumbling block for all the patrons of the car, as it stands in the aisle, or it per- mits stuff to trickle over the dress of her neighbor if she holds it on her lap, while the poor chickens are swept this way and that with a feeble squawk, by the com- ers and goers. The shopping wo- man is another terror. She has a dozen bun- dies, from a handker- chief in a little paper over the shoulders, sometimes a regular harness of three straps in the back and three in front, connected by a collar of the sdme and fastened to the belt. In that instance there are three streamers back and front, a continuation of the waist or- mamentation. The bodice straps are usu- ally edged with narrow lace, and it certain- bag to an express cart for the small hopeful. If it had been a spool of thread ard a paper of safety pins, she would have crdered therm to 000 Neverend Avenue S., with an air, but she suddenly chooses to pack the odds and ends home herself. She piles her pur- chases up on the seat, and sits calmly ob- livious to the tired working girls hanging to the strap. It is only when sore ie. “brute” of a man sweeps the stuff down on the floor that she wakes up to sive somebody a piece of her mind, and gets “the laugh” for her selfishness. Then there are the people who enliven the trip by talking over their affairs. The ba- by’s new tooth, the last neighborhood scandal, the last deal in stocks, Mary’s coming marriage to “a rich young fellow,” Sallie's unhappy divorce case, invitations to swell functions and haughty declination of proffered hospitality; all these and worse, shouted by a passerger in one end of the conveyance to somebody in the other end, generally more for the benefit of the strangers than for the edification of the probably bored acquaintance. There is the man who reads the news- papers, holding them spread out at arm's length, so as to cover at least two people ly does add a great deal to a dress. A 6-cent lawn can easily be made to look like a 50-cent batiste by the ribbon process. Another fancy is a six-inch strap of two- inch velvet or ribbon, which is placed over the shoalder at thé top of the sleeve and éach tnd ‘caught down with a small rosette, It is also made into a collar with three of these straps, the center ones ending in a Tesette AlsOyi 4 =~ Here is a study in yellow and white. An old-fashioned yellow chambray, such as your ‘aother used to make her visiting sun- bornet of, and make skirts to her shaker. The bias facing at the bottom is put on with a cording of white, the white is linen duck, and there are two rows of small but- tons at each side of the front breadth. The yoke of the baby waist and the caps of the sleeves are of duck, with ornamenta- fon of buttons. The belt is waite chamois skin. them should chance to appear interested in the head lines. And the other man who hangs onto the strap with his umbrella un- der his arm, an in- strument of distruc- tion as he sways and swoops around with the motion of the car, ready to gouge out eyes and mow off hats and bonnets. There ts the man who takes a “dry’’ smoke, and the sour woman who hates the sight of tobacco and proceeds to 1} ture him on the spot; the poor, dragged- out mother with six children, no seat for any of them, and two in her arms shriek- ing from weariness. And so the car goes, a traveling embodiment of human life and character, a diamond edition of the globe, which turns a new phase to us at each street crossing, and makes a complete evo- lution each round trip. White Linen Lawn. Here is a study in pink and white. It is for a girl with a rose leaf complexion, too. The*material is fine white linen lawn or rather, swiss, with a raised dot of pink. The shoulder effect is soft India silk with Valenciennes edge and insertion, caught with a belt of pink ribbon and a rosette of swiss. The hat is one of the extremely. odd new poke up shapes in shirred white —— Another Check for One Cent. From the Chicago Inter-Ocean. The smatilest check ever drawn on the as- sistant treasurer of the United States at Baltimore has been returned to the sub- treasury after its course through the banks, The check is for 1 cent, drawa to the order of F. H. Shallus, is dated June 28, 1895, and is signed hy Jemes A. Diffenbau:h, special deputy collector and acting disbursing agent. When an importation of merchan- Gise le made the amount of .iu*y, as esti- mated by the customs officials, is ‘paid. In Jiguidating the account later,’ when accu- rate information is available, the amount is frequently found to be too small or too great. If it 's too much, the excess which has been paid by the importer is returned to him; if too small, the residue s collected, The check in this case was for an excess of deposit of 1 cent. President Cleveland reeeived a check for 1 cent balance on his salary a short time ago. ——— Bound to Have a Lice From the Indianapolis Jou-nal. A bewhiskered man, who didn’t look “as prosperous as some of thuse behind him, pushed himself to the front of the line in the city controller's office yesterday, and stocd at the license windew. “Is this where they get wagon licenses?” he asked the clerk. “Yes, this is the place; pay your money upsteirs, and bring the receipt down here,” was the reply. “Lem’me see. Hew much is a wagon license?” inquired the unprosperous man, as he fingered his pocket. “It will cost you $3.” “No les‘en that?” “No, that's the price regulated by Jaw.” “How much for an express license?” “That will cost you $1.25. “Well, I can't afford it. I'll run my ola wagon in the shed-and turn my hosses out to pasture. I ain't got money enough, and can't borrow It.” “Well, I'm sorry —* “Say, how much Is a dog license?” “One doliar.” “Well, gim’me one. That's all I can af- ford.” —e0___ Always Mentioned. From the New York Werkly. Little Girl—“Did the newspaper reporter notice your papa was at the great banquet chiffon, with pink ribbons, tips and roses. Oh, yes, the collar comes straight across the back just below the arms, and forms a | last night?” cute little short-waisted jacket there, which |. Little Boy—‘‘Yes.” is almost a blouse in front, except for the Little Girl—“Mamma said she couldn't “dolman” tie. A girl who has an awful complexion let out the secret of making it look almost infantile under a white veil, which, you know, is the most trying thing in the worid. find your papa’s name in the list.’* Little Bcy—*No, but the list ends up with ‘and others.’ That means papa. They al- ways mention him that wa: ane She lines that veil with pink illusion! Now, isn’t that art for you? She knew her make- Another Japancse Joke. up would melt off in such weather as this, | From Tid-Bits, 30 had to devise some other, and, really, it's] “My dear,” said Mr. Nubbs to Mrs. prettier than powder and rougt thmes as natural. —— Not the Proper Way. Frem the Ram's Horn. Don’t be a saint in church and a heathen on the street car. » and ten Nubbs, “what name did I understand you to call the new servant?”, “Japan,” replied Mrs. Nubbs sweetly. “And, pray, why such an odd name, my dear?” “Because she’s so hard on china, love,” and the domestic felicity remained serene. Colors Should Be Selected With Care for Summer Effects, Really and truly, one can carry but one subject in mind nowadays, and that is how to dress so as to always appear cool. There are people who accomplish it and yet de- clare that they are almost “boiled.” By the way, style of brunette, wear bright yellow, on the lemon order, but beware of the orange hue! If you are a sallow blonde—well, will have a time of it trying to wear rf. thing but sheer white or very dark blue, brown or black; you certainly should pot ‘Wear green. ‘There was a woman in a crowd of merry- makers the other day who nearly gave People about her the tremens! She dark and sallow and on the shady side le: done herself up in a pear green and striped waist, with a lot of baby frills of white lace and bows of green ribbon. It was enough to mike one seasick! Now, if she had worn a thin black organdy, with narrow frills of yellow lace on the edge of the tucks, a black mousselaine hat, with yellow asters, and a yellow ribbon belt and @ plain low-cut waist, with a narrow edg- ing of black lace under the thin unlined walst she would have been almost hand- some. As it was, shé simply looked hideous, be- cause she would have the “fashionable” thing. Unbecoming garniture makes = woman look so much older, too. One rea- son why green looks cool is because it com- Pliments the too high color that makes plain white objectionable, and by contrast makes it appear the desirable flush of youth. Yellow and white and plain yellow are also cool looking, and in the thin dim- ides and lawns afd organdies are simply ravishing. Here is a very elegant example of what may be accomplished with yellow and white. The material is lemon yellow French ging- ham and has a flaring skirt, made with five rows of embroidery inset. The yoke is of thin embroidery, and the waist and sleeves both have a single row of the insertion. Elbow sleeves, finished with a band of black velvet, and a belt of velvet, makes a very handsomely correct toilet, with which a large white or black hat with velvet rib- bon bows and yellow roses or asters may be worn. Such a dress would. be easy of con- struction at home, but do be careful about the hang of it. Everything depends upon the set of the dress skirt, and if it drags in the back, sags at the sides and hitches up in front it will never be presentable. An- other hint, for the economically inclined: Make your wash dresses two inches too long and turn that fullness in at the top, or else gather the dress in three shirrs at the top and set the belt right over the shirrs, only “running” it on. Just before you launder the dress rip the belt off, puli out the two lower gathering strings and set the belt on and sew it fast. When your dress comes from the laundry it will be just the right length. If you don’t do that you will scandalize the neighbors by wearing a dress up to your shoe tops, after it has been washed. —— THE LADY BECKONED. bs A Masher Who Found He Had Made a Mistake. From the New Haren Register. At one of the recent Gounod rehearsals a little bit of triangular comedy took Place which was not previously rehearsed and in which Mr, Agramonte had no part. During the intermission, when there is a general stir and those in the chorus talk with their friends in the audience, a Yale member of the society stood idly gazing around, dividing his time betwixt a nascent mus- tache and the various pretty girls in the chorus—and by the way, what a power of pretty girls there are in the Gounod Society —when suddenly his eyes became riveted. A very sweet specimen, whose attention he had vainly tried to attract, had now turn- ed in her seat and was apparently beckon- ing to him. Could it be possible? Another glance convinced him—of course it was pos- sible. There she was, looking straight at him and putting untold magnetism in‘o that fascinating motion of her hand. diere was the locked-for opportunity. He had evidently made a great hit. Moving Gown the aisle With the courage and as- surance born of noble lineage, he took a seat beside the fair damsel. “Good even- ing.” quoth he, encouragingly. ‘Beg pardon,” was the reply, “but I think you have the advantage of me.” A thin wall of ice seemed to rise up be- tween them. Thinking possibly he should have Introduced himself, he offered further encouragement by saying, “Pardon me. I am Mr. —,, of ') and some odd.” The wall of ice grew ‘sibly thicker. Through it came the reply: “But I fail to see how this piece of information concerns me, and I would suggest that if you have no other facts to impart more valuable it would he better to take them where they would be appreciated,” and the pretty mouth shut with a bang. This might have been discouraging to ordinary being, but you can't bankrupt Yale youth quite so easily. “Pardon me, but didn’t you beckon to me just now?” persisted he. “Beckon to you!" flasned back the lady in seven volumes of withering scorn, and then as the truth dawned upon her a suspicious convulsion selzed upon her face, and she gasped out again, “Beckon to you! I should think not. There’s the man I beckoned to,” pointing to a tall, sedate man, who had just come up and was quietly standing just behind them. The Iuckless youth faced about and beheld a well-known Yale professor looking down at him with pre- cisely the seme smile worn in the class room when he, the youth, was floundering on the verge of a dead flunk. A few mo- ments later an agitated representative of Yale was clinging to the arm of a class- in a mate as he watched two people at the other end of the hall seated je by side in an attitude of the direst merriment. vho is that y “Jack, for heaven's sake, lady Professor —— is talking to = why, don't you know? That's his wife! Curtain, ————— Another Question Settl From the Ch zo Tribune. Dentist—“Speaking of golng to heaven, I dare say I shall have to learn some new rofession when I go there. Victim (who has been three hours in the chair)—“Yeu'll never go there.” ——_——_oo—_____ Cold is Dend Slow. Fiom the Omaha Bee The teacher—“Now, who can tell me which travels the faster—heat or cold?” Johnnie Bright (promptly)—"?*=<t, course. Anybody can catch cold.