Evening Star Newspaper, September 7, 1895, Page 17

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 1895-TWENTY PAGES. - = 17 LONDON BY NIGHT Englishmen Have a Hard Time Being Merry After Dark. MUSIC HALLS POPULAR, BUT STUPID ——- No Drink to Be Had After Half- Past Twelve. ——_+ RETTY BRITISH GIRLS ae THE P. Bpeclul Correspo LONDON, August 20, 1895. BY NIGHT —in order that there heuld be enough of it to make a real g00d night —com- mences immediately after dinner, say, at “clock. gs an rican, who has lived too long in France, I cannot help making com- parisons wita Paris. ‘lhe first and most striking impression, therefore, is the shortr of the nights and longness of the di In the latter easy-going capital the nights and days ap- pear to join and mingle, one beginning Where the other leaves off, in a natural manner, without shock. The special glad- hess is not, really, of the night, but of the afternoon—at 5 o'clock. That is the hour of absinthe, giving pleasure to an untold multitude who never touch a glass of ab- sinthe. They sit out and take the air and watch the others go ty. There is a 5 o'clock in Lerden, too, which usually takes place from 3 to 7 p.m., when every one is filling up on tea and buttered burs; but as they do it in a stuffy cake shop, to tho tunes of trecps of bappy, well-d jam- d infants playing tag around your n@ mingling their racket with the chatter of t not seem t » of the home than of the rigolade. France the 5 o'cleck is the real glad of the day—the word day in this ncluding night as well. But there ts 2 nother time of rest and reverie, when Pecple. do not k their necks to get about. This is fter dinner, when they sit again. If heuld sit again in Lon- den you would find that you had missed the train of plea First a Musie Hall. To do night in Londen you must hurry from », take a cab and drive straight to a music hall. There, in a something wh: ike a theater, ex- cept that it has much mere starding room, sure. you will young men standing at a bar and drinking whisky, while young ladies st drink port—or whis- ver ¥ prom- : the reali sic hall has oni ughout found af Bere ists to: pe ts don musie halis slice from night ‘they are or old ve a damsel rly of the eal of a. oT and what want they cet change and their own wishes. The od: they em, take eping down, he la- ng timid I at bars Drink is rdinate, or hien sit with we in low tor ges OF ges of th fe if onl, gli Uke hall with | they may | noir, (4) to read_the little evening sport- ing sheets, and (3) to make a good escape at half-past eleven in order to have one full hour before the closing of all public bars at half-past twelve. ‘Too Much Hurry and Drink. This program is not an enticing one, from the standpoint of Paris. There is too much hurry in it, too much drink, too much unappreciated luxury and expense. This latter is the sore point of the whole affair, and it runs through all of London living. These music halls are carpeted and decorated like so many palaces. The ad- mission prices to all but the pit and am- phitheater are high beyond all need, the “prowl” or promenade being almost regu- larly a dollar. The answer is that if the promenade should charge a smaller en- trance fee it would be overwhelmed with a rude mob. Perhaps this is the reason, also, for some other rigors, such as the ugly ermor of reserve which people of the bet- ter class throw round themselves in every public place. In truth, the good-natured, muddle-headed loquacity and vulgarity of the low-class Londoner 1s almost beyond élief. It is understood that by half-past eleven everybody has taken several drinks. May- hap a lemon squash bas alternated with he Scotch cold, but, in any case, it is soon after dinner and the coffee habit seems to be unknown, The only cheap drink for cne's meals in the great capital is a strong ale, called bitter beer, or “I.ondon lager,” haliseous Wash, or sere and there a glass of the real Munich jrew—which soon be- gins to taste too sweet aft 2 Yor daily use of “bitter.” Wine is out of 1 and i: herever pougsht, so highly eoholized to give an unp and swelling. Now the music halls are empty’ alf hour befcre their closing time. The choice must be between: Fi si urant to eat a hasty supper, for the restaurant must close at . second, a French cafe, Ike the Royal, where you may not play cards or dominoes, a which must close ass bar, such as e real parlors you promenoirs of music with more freedom, until 12:30, or, fourth, a German beer hail, like the Monico, which has a mingled life of find so many halls repeated, will stolid German clerks and almost second- lass debauch, again till 12:30. Till 12:50, ». You m sit and talk, sit and drink and talk, sit and smoke and drink, sit and eat and smoke and drink, sit and eat and talk and smoke and drink, or simply sit and drink—which is, at least, mere than to stand and drink—but what you cannot do is sit and think, or sit and read, or sit and watch with calm or ease. Because the noise is very great, the smell ot food is very strong, because the walte are too bustling and impudent. The pea and mildness of the French cafe are al- ways lac! and yet the Engli have the assura 1 Frenchmen talkative, excitable and noisy. But tt will soon be er, and one naturaily utever he is doing. rushes through In Paris you may til 2 am. Then >u May go and sit till 5 a.m. in the Cafe icain Wetzel's, or at large and well- ow may join the to the Cen- is opening, Markets, and soon it elbow, saying, his are going out spend his days sta the refle y is comforting to strangers and to travelers, at the least. You may stay up in London, too, and this is how your L Cosmopolitan Streets. London is a large town, al! full of streets. It has been estimated that should a man walk fifteen mil a day for nineteen years ne could not cov I these str Weil, all these streets from 10 o'clock at night to 1 or 2 a.m. are filled with demoiselles. In great part they are secking food, plain food, beetsteak and onions and a cup of coft nd they like to feel sure, also, that they will not be turned out for the non- bayment of their rent. In Regent street, in Piccadilly, and round Leicester Square r, Walking, after he has been ef his caf % will hear aes. e fond of that it n element that 3 their al and makes it something t itisa at no city ever saw le at which Monsieur Lepine ieur Lepine, who tolerates the Moulin Rouge, the Boulevard, the Cafe Harcourt—woulé have an apoplectic fit. Undoubtedly you will hear foreign lan- suages on Regent street at 1 a.m, but in the vast whiripyol of nightly London they tre # mere drop. And in the turned-up faces a blind man could not but see the delic ate and melancholy prettiness of merry I and. before. ave the prettie. th girls, Shop factory girls, scrub girls and slavies, school girls, rich and pe aristocratic and “no class’ from the count nd wan Londoners dass, of every rank in vir th them all, e je sweet fh rown out. the London is glad when ; and one iet at 2a. 2 only r hur- falgar Square After 2 aun, ma drunken party hunting One might have sat room and had in come over E with the husbands and their sit me ine like men. y have supped want a good to be a nightcap. © the men, ink or two not mind tobacco smoke. They be companions their husbands r nd it ht. Only, wh at the ri hy und the Alices a few more , which their more set- adily? The answer is analogy with th un- ng law, which gives the publican a to sell to bona fide travelers at any at his own risk, these hotels take olce 1 till 2 o’clo So In cans and sinners do not Belated “Travelers.” at hotel smoking room at 2 a.m. re burning brightly, hospitably. and five or six bmave t chatting in the distant cor- hi me Americans exchang- experiences in low tones. Upon the table at your side there are the Illus- their | trated English weeklies, the innumerable trade weeklies, the grave dailies and-the little sporting sheets of evening. There is never the rattle of a domino or flapping of a card, as in a contirental hotel coffee room. You have your cigar, your lemon squash, your whisky and your reading mat- ter. Is it not a fit and seemly way to finish off the day? But, really, there must be something else, From mere contrariness the tourist is not satisfied. “I have heard of the lights of London all my life, and I am going out to hunt them.” At the end of his Regent street rambles, at this same hour of 2 o'clock, he says the same thing—“but there must be something else’’—some other thing than walking up and down _ ill-lighted streets and saying “no” and “non” and “nicht.” “Cabman, take me to a proprietary club— one that I can get in easily.’ “All right, boss, I'll take you around. But you will find it useless. They are all closed. I took a party around the other night and there was nothing.’ Such has been the tale of London through the present season. There was once a time when any well- dressed, quiet-spoken man with money could find, himself a member of a dozen “clubs” in less time than a dozen nights. The clubs were run with what was prac- tically private capital, for private protit; each had its circle of habitues, recrnited from friends, floaters and outsiders of all kinds; the hall boy could propose a member ard the porter vouch for him. The first month’s dues and the admission fee, quite reasonable, were paid in a lump sum, on sight. And scarcely had the cab turned rattling round the corner than the new- comer was a full-fledged “member.” They Were supper clubs and mutual improvement clubs, musical clubs, theatrical clubs, gam- biing clubs, all kinds of clubs. They were a pretext to evade the habitua rly clos- ing of London, made nece: ‘'y by_the heavy drinking of its inhabitants. Now they are a thing of the past. Almost the last of the old speculative proprietors has just been raided, jailed, fined and bound ever. It only happened’ a week ago, ease of the “Star and Garter Club.” his. inves che committi trate asked witnesses “if they saw any : Yes, “witnesses had seen garters for sale. There was a woman there selling them About thirty ladies and forty men were found preparing to take supper. They were all let off, being cautioned. So ends the tale of the proprietary club, and London will remain practically tight- closed after ) for many a da Then is there nothing else to do? you might take a cup of coffee.” At Westminster bridge, in all the solemn glory of the night, bankment, wher the dark, still waters rd gas jets with a cynical Vill Tuesday, equalness, there pt for the wretche: is a coffee they may not altogether lack die of hunger, wet, cold and exy cup of ted-hot coffee is" a half siice of bread and butter cut of ham a penny. s_ impro HiLic. RLING THE ENGLISH SKYLARK. The Origin of a Colony Found on Island. t. “Song Birds and in the Evening it was announced for From the In an at rarm Pes E sfully col- cnized on Long Island. Interest in the subject became widespread, and many per- sons who saw for themselves the birds soaring in the sky and heard their melo- dious strains expressed their delight at joying an opport ty that they had often longed for, but had given up the expecta- tion of ever being able to experience. The government ornithologist, upon the eipt of the intelligence, disputed its ac- , and contented that it was not the skylark but the shore-lark that had bean rd. He caused specimens to be procured led to him, however, and on ‘ipt he acknowledged the correct- the statement as made, but he could give no information as to the intro- duction of tke birds here. Upon equent_ investigation it was learned that in IN about half a dozer larks were brought from F: * instance of a little group of nis of Brookiyn, and ality near Flatiands, ir progen, uring the oducti In § doubtless to a favor- two such s¢ in su dof ers had gain in numle icn of the f quite. plen were seen rd, soaring, as is thelr wont, by m bliz: About storm aX ue the two the tur 1s self, concerned or fate ef “our made a trip down to the place them most num xt and the slopes were the heds. for our Hh many of those seen them soari I rece! ances t in be s } ed from friend 2 feathered fi rd n r old haun t opportunity, I took a trip to the local- dese Within a short half hour ; rrival at the place my eat hted with the strains of the son ty af de were | and my eyes were gladdencd by the of them, After a some had withstood the tori, 1 sw again, from twinkling in the blue sky or y cloud, streamlets of silver; poured down. resident of the nelghborhood kindly ded me to the spot, in a near by, Where he had found a skylark’s nest. AS th spot my guide w to touch the n with h alle y was it He said ‘ound it, two weeks previous! fledged ‘young lings had since departed 1eir own account, but the in the nest. The skylark ts exclusively a dw. the open, a frequenter of tilled lands. early spring he haunts newly ploug! fields, feeding upon worms and ich have heen upturned with the soil; later and throughout summer, he is found ing mainly in the cabbage and the pot patches. In the one he is known to be industrious destroyec of that troubl pest, the English cabbage worm, and in th other he procures, it is believed, the of the potato bug to feed to his nes lings. His nests have been found under the sheiter potato vines. He has since his ved to the farmer that he is a valuable “old world remedy” for at least one troublesome pest of old world origin, the English cabbage worm. ++ A Singular Announcement. of the raturalization pr From the Funt News. “This evening Rev. Mr. will preach his farewell sermon at the parish church, and the choir will render a thanksgiving specially coraposed for the occasion.” | so | e| | MOUNTAINEER PUPILS A Northern School Ma’am’s Experi- ences in, the South. THE SASSAFRAS ACADEMY Trying to Civilize the Freshly Caught Mountain Maids. SUPERSTITIONS AND CUSTOMS gi Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. HERE'S ALWAYS I room at the top of the ladder,” said Uncle Eustace, sen- » tentiously. “That may be, but somebody is sitting y on every round,’’ y said Ideala dolefully. Uncle Eustace was ~ a college professor, full of years and honors. Ideala was “38 zw twenty-one, and her honors were of that valedictory and class book sort which wither like the class day garlands. She had spent the summer writing pretty lt- tle copied and recopied notes to school di- rectors, and had found that without ex- perience and skill one degree had no more effect on them than it would on an ice- berg. “Why don’t you go west or south? They say teachers are needed there,” suggested Uncle Eustace at last, with about the same air with which he might have men- ticned Hawaii. He was a bred-in-the-bone New England classical scholar. “Lil do it!” said Ideala suddenly,with the boundless courage of youth. En Route. Two weeks later, she roused from a short nap to find the train sitting still in Egyp- tian darkness, so far as the outer land- The car windows could be heard outside. A ame through the car, swinging nd sat down on the arm of a to r Some anxious’ question: Dh, no, ma’am, you're a right smart step from Su. S yet. There's a rail broke, : the men had to walk body to fix [ a dropped aste ‘ore the rattling, motion was resumed, having reached a tirm conviction that in’ this land a train that sat down to rest in the mid- dle of the nizht was protected by Provi- dence, and might wander joyously from Cineimnati gulf, sure t other would respect its individuality and bo stronsly on being on tume. ‘The gray dawn lifted the gray mist from the Cumberland river, and the train, with a whoop t hoed 4 mountain wall on eithe 1 at a smail st m o the age, one s. one academy, one seminary, and mission teacher: Mountaineer, thirteen The Native Ideala fotind herself in the midst of the sons of Anak as she made her w group of yellow academy like a beacon on a hilltop. eer is. p ay to the buildi » set The mountain- tically where he was seventy- ‘Sago. The mountain wall on the shut him off from Virginia emigra- tion, and on the west the planters took no inte t in him. Cotton was the main in- , and you cannot raise sotioa on land slopes at an angle of forty-five de- So he sat still on his mountainside and gathered about him a few stalks of corn, one cow, two or three gaunt razor- backed hogs and a little paten of tobacco. He sat in the sun and grew, and when he wanted amusement he fought. The result is a deep-chested, deep-eyed giant, slow and gentle of speech, swift of temper, te- jous of superstition and primitive in strength. It was to this people that deala had come to bring what she knew of civil- ston. Architecture of the Country. cipal of the § fras Academy > pastor of one of the churches, intendent of three Sunday The pr! , and he talked with th man who has the nervous jd on f had to make up for the re natives. alnut? Oh, y that's the d we could use,”- he said, as fin : is in the kees would have found some wa Fe it to the railroad, but these people—why, did you ever bear how they harvest pu kins on the mountain farms? They wait till the freshets take the crop off the fields and wash it into their door yards. You'll see houses built without a nail, same as a phild’s cob house, of rough lo with a stick chimney and a hole for a door. When the chimney cat fire and bu as it docs every now and then, th other e it. The roof de of anks laid side by side, with a sapling along the edge to fasten them down, ‘Then big stone is put on each corner to f. the ends of the saplings. Yes, ma’am; you see a ce vit tones on the nving Methods, as further informed that the ned in these cabins, to save un- labor, w: id in the original on the floor, with the ends In the fire- place, and shoved in as fast as it burned. Hoe cake, bacon and coffee were the aples of di od oc wally with chicken, bolled in a great iron pot. After this Information it was cheering to leam e cooking for the half d teach- nd sixty or seventy bvarding pupils of the academy was done by the daughters se mountain homes, #8 well as the ning, Scrubbing and laudable and s in ¢ n of head tem was that “the young lady s, under the direction of a competent and experienced matron, shall perform the work of the household, and thus at the end to estab- ness and be fitte Now, that rez but, the beautifully in a prospes- gentlemen who tried to teach a 1, who never Bught aw baking pow nh oven, or how They never wore cloth ed by same mountain nymph, n water poured off a roof sooty with the smoke of soft coal, T ever ate a breakfast pre- pared by those untried nds, under the ction of a matron of three weeks’ ex- In_ sh r replete with and co se young ladies’ may be y complete the and all concerned, ny “homes” were reh of a wife would e of themselves Di The worried and in Teaching. nervous little matron ew all about housekeeping, but preparing family meals in a private kitchen and eparing meals by contract in a hotel are two different matters. She had no gtime to cook any one thing herself, for mani- one cannct be in all the corners of a tory house at once, so gave di- , and the directions were followed atar off. Every housekeeper knows that a thing must be done wrong at least once before it can be done right, and another beautiful complication of the system as devised by headquarters was that each girl should take her turn at each part of the work at s ing the year, any thorough 3 bread was the 7 bread 5 23. when came out of E > meat, to ether there was any pot no one could ever ed, and coffee in the cof had been tanned instead | have told. There sre two kinds of water in Sassafras, the cistern water, which is used for the laundry, and tones all gar- ments down to a beautiful Quaker gray in one or two washings, so that the experi- enced lady teachers carried black silk hand- kerchiefs and wore black silk aprons for the sake of appearances, and there was the drinking water, which was of a rich brown color, and left a heavy mineral de- posit in the bottom of the glass. It was said that acetic acid would render it com- paratively harmless. Compensation and Drawbacks. There were compensations. The light of the sun took on rare and wonderful beauty in that atmosphere of mist and cloud, burning away to a dazzling, intensely blue sky at midday. The moonlight was es white as arctic snow and vivid as elec- tricity. There were dark nights, to be sure, and these have their perils in Sassafras. Ideala stepped off the veranda one evening and landed on something round and solid, which rolled over with a grunt. It proved ta be the back of a pig, who had chosen the path of learning as likely to be a path oi peace, and Seemed so little disturbed by the intrusion that Ideala said she felt like making an apology. A little further on she saw two white streaks in the darkness, and found a cow iying directly across the road. Not being the traditional young woman in some respects, she calmly walk- ed around the beast and went on her way; but after that she carried a lantern. Native Superstitions. The strange, dreamy folklore of the peo- ple was of unceasing interest to her. When the railway cut through Cumber- land Gap, where many dead of the north and south are buried in one long trench, the contractors had to import men to do the work. The natives refused to dis- turb tnat trench; they said ‘the ha’nts would walk.” But their imagination is crudely improvident even in ghost legends. One serious-eyed young fellow had a ver- sion of his own. “Yes, thar’s a place at Sandy Creek Gap where they say folks hey viewed some mighty curious things. The old folks used to tell about it when I was small, and I'd get my back right close to their knees and not dare to go to bed scarcely. They said if you come up one side of the gap a sheep would come out of the bushes end try to get up and ride behind you, ai 1 if you come up the other side a man a! dressed in red would come and stand in the path and make like he goin’ to cut you. One night when I was about eighteen I had to go through that gap after dark, and when I started up the road I could feel my hair rise so I thought it would tip my hat off. Then I felt the ground begin to sink, and I went right careful. By and by I looked up, and there was the settlement in plain sight, and by the time I got there I had kind 0’ come to the cunclusion that there warn't no such things as ha’nts. But when I told the old man that, he looked at me right curious, and said, ‘Ah, you were not born to see sights.’ ” 3 Awakening of the Mountaineer. The young skeptic ended his story with a gleam of demure fun in his deep-set eyes, and it was evident that local superstitions bad iost their terrors for him. The moun- taineer has awakened from his Rip Van Winkle slecp and is coming down into the leys. The great veins of coal in the Cumberland are being opened, and boys her in the small towns that spring up bout the mines, each with a long, keen knife in his boot and a great ambition for war in his heart. The old blacksmith in Sassafras had eight sons, for each of whom, as they reached the age of sixteen, he forged a bowie knife, with the remark, “Cut yer way, boys, cut yer way.” Edu- cated this Highland population will be—the only question is, how? Ideala says the question will be simpli- fied when one smali town does not have to support two schools which are always at loggerheads. She also says that no asso- ciation in a big city can direct the details chool in the wilderness skillfully and h understanding. —— Written for The Evening Star. Floating. Floating down life’s rapid river When the morning si To the land we eail * ‘To some bright celestial day Where the angels kneel and pray, At high noon the love and laughter Of our friends resound with joy— Cheering to the Great Hereafter That we never ean destroy,” Pleasure pure, without alloy. But when night and storms shall hover ‘Round the barque that bears us Ody You may find your former lover False, untrue, forever gone— Weakest reed to lean upon. Then be brave and self-reliant When the gulf of death appears; Steady! Forward! still defiant Down the stream of rolling sears Floating on through smiles or tears! —JOHN A. JOYOR —_—-__ ‘ophet From Harper's Bazar, “Isn't this coat too big for me?" he asked of the tailor. “It is, sir,” replied the enterprising cloth- fer; “but I am something of a phrenolo- gist, end I can foresee that it will not be long before you are a big man. = +00 'The Lean Warrior as a Lance. From Fliegende Blatter. WOMEN MUST SLEEP. Value of Paine’s Celery Compound to the Sick and Nervous, ‘The burdens of life are not equally borne by men and wemen. Women too often suffer from some weakness that was never intended for them by nature. When trouble or hard work or excitement have rendered the nervous system so morbidly wide- awake that sleep is denied, the over-tired brain must be helped to get quickly back to its bealthy normal condition or serious mischief ensues. Paine’s celery compound accomplishes this as nothing else has ever done. It at once begins to regulate and equalize the overwrought nerves and to restore to them their lost tone. It brings to the disabled, debilitated, nervous tiesues the pecullar nerve food which they must have to build up thelr parts. “I took Paine's celery compound for dyspepsia, nervousness and sleeplessness," stys Lillie B. Smith of Willtamston, N. J., ‘amd I can recom- mend it as a good modicine. As a result of taking it I feel better than I have for several years.” When Paine's celery compound is used members of the household recognize the signs of health gradually stealing over the face of the one that was pinched and worn by pain and sickness, Paine's celery compound Is a perfect nerve food, It quickly feeds weakened parts, removes all irrl- tation, allows "the rest from pain they need eo tadly, and restores all the myriad, dceep-lying nerve parts all over the boly to a healthy, quiet working. This 1s the way this .remarkable in- vizorator makes people well. > Reports, of {ts marvelous working come from cities as far apart as New Orleans and Montreal. There is not a town large enough to stand on @ railroad map that has not contributed some word of warm praise and gratitude to the greatest nerve and blood remedy of this stirring end of the 19th century, JAPANESE CARPENTRY. Peculiar Ways They Have of Working and the Tools Used. Japan Letter in Chicago News. Lumber is worth about twice as much in Japan as it is #ith us. Common lumber, which we sell for $10 and $12 a thousand feet, will bring’40 yen—that 1s, $20 gold— here. This is due chiefly to the scarcity of timber and the great labor reauired to work it up by their primitive processes. They have been cutting timber off their mountains here for 2,500 years, and al- though the forests have been reproduced again and again during that period it is difficult and expensive to get logs down from the mountain sides in the absence of the necessary facilities. They usually go into the woods and cut one log at a time, which they haul out by hand or by oxen for many miles. Where streams are convenient they use them as we do, but they have no saw mills in the mountains, although there is an abundance of water power everywhere. I understand they have tried them, but they have not been suc- cessful. They cut all their lumber by hand with a wide and thin saw during a time of year when they have nothing else to do, and each man who is engaged in business that requires lumber usually buys his own logs and cuts them up himself at odd times. Women and men both work at it. One man or woman will work on the top of the log while another works underneath, but usually not with the same saw. I have seen four or fve men working on the same log, each sawing off his own board. They raise the log at an incline of forty-five de- with one end on the ground and a bout the middle, and when they work down to the rest they tie it up and begin at the other end again. All the lumber is dr i by hand. I have found but one planing mill in the country. That is in Yokohama. It employs about 150 hands, and, curiously enough, its entire preduct is made into boxes and shipped to India. It does no business in the local mar- Ket. The machinery is all from Boston. ‘The manager tells me that the company is thinking of enlarging the plant by adding a sash factory and machinery for making blinds and doors, also for the India market. I do ndt know why they do not sell their goods in the loca! m: but I presume there ia a good reasen for it; perhaps they get better prices in India. The Japanese make all the woodwork about a house by hand, and most of their houses are all wood. They are very skill- ful in all kinds of cabinet and joiner work, and are more rapid than our people. Their tools are better adapted for doing close work than ours, ane are kept very sharp. they give a xreat deal mora labor tience to an 3 : car- and cabi Nou aiseer ace from nick s in their planed hey use ver nails, but mor- use almost everything. It is u 50 well done that it is difficult to detect the joints except by and it lasts forever. Some of ships are made without a bit of fron in their composition, Everything is mortised. What pay do th get? Skilled machin- Ss, carpenter joiners, cabinet nd the highcst class of that s chanics get 40 to 42 hours’ werk. That is 21 cents of our mon workmen get from iva 2 while second-r ) sen a day, and women, who work right along with the men in the shops, receive from 10 to 15 sen. They do not accomplish as much in twelve hours as our skilled mec in eight hour: The Japane tractor usually chine shed, and se pecs ment to more people. in the government shops, who are putting up large buildi with large employers generally. no prejudice against. machinery not think there would be difficulty in introducing American machinery of every kind into Japan if our manufacturers will go at it in an intelligent manner. The Japanese are very skillful in han- dling machinery when they once learn nies will but they do It bette @ manufacturer and con- d labor to ima- it ts bett it gives e: how. They learn best by imitation. It is dificult to make them unde: id how to use a machine by explanation, but if they can sit by and one else do it they will learn ve} ‘And in copy- ing machinery t the original with great exac! fidelity, even to any blemishes or ornaments that ma: appear. 1 have seen some remarkable ex- mples of their imitation. Usuz the fin- ish, is a little rougher than the original, but the working parts are identical, and they get the finish all right after a litle experience. ———c Wayside Communings. From the Chicago Tribune. “D'ye reckon it’s true,” asked Mosely Wrazgs, rolling a little farther in the shade of the tree as the sunshine caught up with him, “that every feller's got iron in his blood? “Course it’s true,” said Tuffold Knutt, shifting his quid to the other cheek. “Then it mu be p fron that’s in Jim Corbett’s biood,” rejoined the other, yawn- ing dismally, GducfizuhEfo ahcB -ct tornfifi,ibebhti’a CATTLE HOLD UP A TRAIN. The Bull Charged the Locomotive, Derailed It, but Got Killed. A fight between a locomotive and a wild bull was the spectacle that entertained and delayed the passengers on a Spanish railway train, the other day. Coming around a curve between the stations of Moravel and Canavarel, near the Portu- guese frontier, the engineer saw a ‘herd of wild cattle on the track ahead. He sounded the whistle and the surprised cat- tle—all but one—took to their heels. The one that remained was a huge bull, who lowered his head and with a hoarse bellow charged straight at the oncoming engine. The shock killed the bull and derailed the Iccemotive. While the tfiinmen and passengers Were doing their best to get the engine on the track again—so the Spanish paper says which tells the story—the herd of Savage cattle, having got over their fright, returned to the fray and charged the work- ers, who reired hastily to the cars, where they barricaded themselves. Then a veri- table siege began. After the first few moments of stupefied surprise had passed the gendarmes, who always accompany Spanish trains, gathered courage and com- menced an attack with stones upon their four-footed enemies. In reading the Span- ish journalist's spirited account of the heroism of the military one becomes lost in a maze of conjecture as to why they did not use their guns. At any rate, the battle lasted two long hours, and toward ‘ehtfall the wild cattle decided to beat a retreat. 5 The passengers and the train crew finally got the locomotive on the rails again and “eahin-caha” (which is French for “mer- rilly”) it proceeded on its way. urprised, but Kaunl to the Occasion, rom the Chieago T Eaglish Host—“You never saw parliament in sessioa before, did you, Miss Wildwest? You are surprised now, I dare say, to see the member ttirg with their hats on Fair American (in the v ‘ors’ gallery)— r but I suppose they do that in order to have them ndy when they want te talk through them. ties (solih about t French Matd—You'se gettin’ sah; stay in yer own tracks, Sech white trashiI"—Truth. Rel