Evening Star Newspaper, September 21, 1895, Page 15

x THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1895—TWENTY PAGES. A CHANCE. MEETING BY THE DUCHESS. (Copyright, 1895, by Irving Bacheller.) (Continued from Friday's Star.) Iv. It \s quite half-past eight. The moon that last night was vague and shadowy is now brilliant, lighting up the islands far and near. Lilian, a little out of spirits, though she hardly knows why, has strolled across the road to the Esplanada to take, as she tells herself, a last glance at sweet Glen- gariff. The place seems deserted, but the shadow of a figure and a faint spark of light on one of the seats near her warn her that she is not the only person pres- ent. Fearing it may be Geoffrey, she would have gone in agath, but for a voice that hails her joyfully. “That you? Come along and sit down,” calls Miss Linton. “I detest Letty Lin- ton, solus.” Lilian approaches slowly and drops into the seat beside her; a strange curiosity has drawn her. “Well, how are you and old Geoff get- ting on? What did you do to him when you went out boatin’? He came back like @ thundercloud.” Lilian rises, almost speechless with an- ger and grief, and the most unconquer- able astonishment. “You don’t know what you are saying. ‘You forget yourself,” she stammers. She turns to ga, but Miss Linton putting out her hand catches her frock and promptly drags her down beside her again. “I dare say; Jim says I'm always doing that, but I won't forget again. Not an- other word about Geoff, honor bright. @nly don’t vex him. I tried that on Jim, you know, and it.didn’t pay, not a little bit. I was miserable all the time. lian turns. im! Capt. Westropp? What is he to you?” “I never answered a riddle in my life,” says Miss Linton, genially. “But he's the man I'm going to marry, anyway.” “Capt. Westropp?” “Yes; why not?" “But you do not love him?” “Now, that’s what puzzles me.” says Miss Linton, cheerfully. “I've known such lots of girls who said they were head over ears in love with people, and yet they showed it im wh a queer way, to my “1 tried that on Jim, you know.” thinking. I don't know if I’m in love with Jim, but I do know that I can’t get on without him. I've tried it, you know. Broke it off three times, but always was glad to make it up with him again. Felt sort of lost without him, d’ye see? I don’t know if that is being in love, but, anyway, it's good enough for me. By the by, here he comes, and Geoff with him. Hi! Jim, here we are.” Jim comes gladly to her call, Geoffrey Lansdale with him. ‘Where is Aunt Bessie?’ asks Lillan, addressing Geoffrey. Her tone strikes him as being different, a little nervous, a little softer. “I passed through the reading room just now; she was writing.” “Indian letters!” says Miss Linton. “All self-respecting chaperons do that. It sounds important, and keeps them out of harm's way. When I'm a chaperon I'm going to add on Australia and the South Sea islands. I shall take the cake as a protector of the young. But what a night! Clearer than day. I should like to go boating tonight.” “Will you come?” says Lansdale, turn- ing suddenly, eagerly to Lilian. “Do; it looks perfect out there.” She is not sure ever afterward if she made him an answer, but at all events she follows him down the slip and into a boat. 2 “We mustn't go far,’ said she, still with that new timidity full upon her. “Ferhaps to that island over there. and back.’ Lansdale nods his head. It.is he who has grown silent now; and no word Is spoken by either of them as they glide out and away from the lights of the hotel into the paler, clearer, more mystical light of the moon. The scene round them is, in- deed, full of mystery—the mystery of night, and a beauty incomparable. Oh, lovely Glengariff! who that ever has en- tered your silent kingdom has left you heart whole? “What are you thinking of?” asks Lil- fan, softly. His continued silence in her present new mood has become unbearable. He starts slightly. “Thinking of? What I should like to give Letty as a wedding present.” “I thought you were going to give her yourself,” says Lilian, She hardly knows what prompted the words, but with them comes a hot flush to her brow, and, for- getful that kindly night hides such things within her bosom, she turns aside, and leaning on the boat lets her white fingers trail idly through the water. “To marry her, you mean? Oh, no; she would bore me,” says he, absentiy; and then, as if suddenly repentant, “Not but that she is one of the best girls in the world, and henest as the sun.” “I suppose mcst girls are honest,” a lit- tle resentfully. “You are not. It is not an honest or straightforward thing to condemn a man @It is wonderful bow clever a girl wets when ske is in love.” unheard, and“to make up one forehand, without the smalle detest him.” “I don't detest you,” sa mind be- n, to she faintly. y Why, you id me. ere reasons. © © © © uddenly she turns to him. he had never called him before—“I hope you will change ycur mind abont mamma's invita- ticn. I hope you will It can‘t.make any difference now, and— “Not to you, perhaps. But to me it would.” “To you?" She has drawn her small drip- Ing fingers cut of the water now, and is locking at him with a strange expression. “I almost swore I'd never tell you,” says he. “But samehow now I should like you to know that I love you.” “Geoffrey!” “Yes, course. It is the unexpected that always happens,” says he, in a mock- ing tone that is full of misery. “There is no earthly reason why I should love you— ts there? But you are the only girl I ever wanted to marry, all the same. Of course, you, who have never been in love, cannot understand what I feel; but—” “You are wronj interrupts she in a choked little voice; “I, too, am in love.” For a moment there is dead silence. “You, you!” stammers he. “All this time, then,” with terrible reproach, “you were thinking of some one else.” “Oh, no,” in a vague whisper. “You should have told me,” says he, sternly, not hearing that soft whisper. “How could I? Oh, you were the very last that I could tell. How could I have told you?” She burst into tears. “What is it?” demands he, eager; derly, utterly disarmed by her tears. “Why are you crying? Don’t you care for this other fellow, then?” : “Oh, I do, It isn’t that!” “You love him?” Celt ae @ fresh sob. “Then why are you so unhappy? If you love him, he must be the luckiest fellow alive, and I only wish to heaven I was in his shoes. Lilian, confide in me. Tell me what is troubling you.” “I can’t. I can’t, indeed.” “But why?” “Because——" she covers her face with her hands. “He’s—you!” It is as good an old boat as you cquld find. Any other old boat might have heeled over on the spot, after Geoffrey’s mad spring forward, but this one stands firm. “You mean it, Lily?” “I dé; I do, indeed. I was never, never happy until now.” “Then what did you mean by your dis- graceful behavior all these past days?” “I don’t know,” rubbing her cheek’ softly against his. “Only there was that money, you know, ard—” “Oh! you cruel, wicked, darling girl, as if that was of any consequence. But you do love me, my sweetheart?” “You know it.” “I don’t, indeed; you have never given me one yet!” It ts wonderful how clever a girl gets when once she fs in love. This remarkable speech, that has apparently no meaning in it, grows plain to her at once. ‘She gives him “one” on the spot. “And you will come home with me to- morrow, Geoffrey?" “Do you think I could stay away from you?” This sort of thing might have gone on until now, but that, at this moment, a clear, brisk voice comes to them across the moonlit water. “Hk, there, spoons! The Indian budget is signed and sealed, and there will be wigs on the green presently.”” “That's Letty,” says Lilian, starting. “Oh, it must be late. Let us go home at once.” “I suppose we must,” says he, reluctantly taking up the oars again. “Geoff,” says Lilian, with a touch of the old mischief in her smile, “I feel somewhat of a traitor toward the Foundlings—don’t you?” - “Never mind, we'll send them a. big check,” says Lansdale, laughing. (The erd.) ——._—_ HE NEEDED AN ESCORT. , ten- Tribulations of the Man Who Went to the Thenter Alone. From the Oakland (Cal.) Echo. Have men any right te attend a matinee without capable female escort? He had never been to a matinee before, and on this occasion found that his seat—at a certain swell theater across the buy, was just be- yord those occupied by two young women. He paused doubtfully,while they both looked at him. Then the farther girl began to gather up her hat, her cape; her bundle: a@ program and a bunch of flowers from his seat. All these things she piled on top of the open box of chocolates on her knee. Then she stood up and he started to pass. The second girl seemed inclined to keep her place, but when it was clear that with the best intentions he could not get by her, she heaved a large sigh, and, clutching the eentents of her lap, rose. Then the box of chocolates dropped. “It was my fault,” he murmured, and, getting by her, he knelt in the narrow space between the rows cf seats and began to pick up the scattered chocolates. He gathered most of them, ex- cept the three he was kneeling on, and those he offered to scrape off if she wished. Meanwhile the girl dropped her opera glasses on him and stepped on his fingers. When, finally, they were all seated, she dropped her program, he went under the seat for that, and she offered him a choco- late. As he felt sure it was the one he had taken out of the hair of the woman in front, he declined. Then she asked him if he had ever read the book from which the play was taken, and all through the next act she told him about it. When it came crying time she found her handkerchief missing, and he could not do less than offer her his. At the end of the act he decided to go out for a drink. She bad put her parasol in a new place, and he fell over it in getting out; besides, the veil of the first girl's hat caught on his vest button and he pulled her hat after him. When the girls settled down they said they thought men were awful nuisances at the theater, and then they discussed the discomfort to them- selves that would ensue on his return. He stocd up for the rest of the play, and Ge- clares—this young man does—that if he ever goes to a matinee again he will take his sister for protection. ———__+e- SHE HAD A GOOD CRY. And Her Escort Sensibly Let Her H It Out Without Interfering. From the New York Tribune. ‘The young woman and her escort had rid- den from 5¥th street to Tarrytown on their wheels. The afternoon was hot and close, and the ride had been a hard one. They were to take the train back to Tarrytown, and this thought had cheered her as she came in sight of each successive hill. But the strain grew worse and worse, and when they reached the railway station she was as near sheer exhaustion as it was possible for a human being to be. Some women would have fainted—there was ample ex- cuse for it—but this one didn’t. She drop- ped from her wheel,sat on the platform and started in for a good cry. Her companion showed rare good sense. Perhaps most men would have told her to stop, and some would have said she was a fcol. But this man took it as if she were doing the most:ordinary thing in the world. He said not a word to her, and merely look. ed angrily at the pgople whose curlo: ied them to gaze at his weeping companioi It wasn't iong before her sobbing grew scfter. She wiped the tears from her eyes, and the smile which lighted her face was like a burst of sunshine after a shower. “It was very silly of me,” she said, “but I just really couldn't help it. I feel all right now.” “It was the most sensible thing you could have done,” he replied. “I should not have allowed you to push on so fast on such a —_—_+e+_____ ndering Philadelphian Identified. From the Philadelphia Record. A prominent up-town man tells a story on himself. He says: “I was in Chicago a short time ago, and, knowing that I would receive through the post ofiice a money order within the next day or two, I went around to the post office to identify myself to them in advance. ‘I am expect- ing a money order to the amount of 9 I said to the clerk in that divi ‘and my name is ” I showed him some let- ters addressed to me from other parts. ‘Now,’ I continued, ‘if Iam not the man I claim to be I must have killed him, and am now impersonating him.’ The ‘clerk laughed, but I could see, I thought, vis- ions of more Holmes murders were floating through h #mind. Well, the order came on time, and when I calied to get the money the Same cierk was at the desk. He took one look at me, sized me up, and out more ado counted out the money handed it to me, saying: ‘Oh, ye the fellow who murdered the man.’ ** a Solomon and the Fool. From Truth, One day Solomon and a fool were walk- ing together. “Solomon,” said the fool, “why is it you never talk?" “Fool,” said Solomon, “that I may listen to other people's wisdom.’ ; ‘And then, after a pause, “But why Is it you always talk?” “That other people, I suppose, fool, “may listen to my wisdom. Whereat Solomon held his tongue and went home thoughtfully. quoth the A CURRENCY SOLVENT Charles Francis Adams Gives Ex- pression to Characteristic Ideas. BUSINESS COMMUNITY NOT CONGRESS What He Thinks of the Venality of Public Men. : OUR POLITICAL SYSTEM (Copyright, 1895, by George Grantham Bain.) R. CHAREES Francis Adams does not figure in the newspapers of today as he did in those of 2 few years ago,when he was president of the Union Pacific railway and actively Interested in public affairs. Mr. Adams devotes his time and attention now exclu- sively to the man- agement of his own business. He has large investments in real estate in the west—particularly in Kansas City—and he is a heavy owner of improved Teal estate in the city of Boston. The man- agement of this property consumes all of the time which Mr. Adams cares to give to affairs, and he devotes none of his thoughts to politics or government beyond taking that interest in them which every observer and student in public or private life must take. Mr. Adams says that he is not only not an ac*ive figure in public life, but not even a looker-on in public matters. “When @ man gets to my time of life,” he said to me the other day in his office in Boston, “he begins to feel that he is out of the game. The active period of my life was war time. I feel now_as though I had gone through the mill. I have not an opin- ion to express on public questions.” Mr. Adams takes a decided philosophical view of life, and especially cf public af- fairs. He measures men and matters by a changed standard, looking back on the ex- periences 6f a busy lifetime. The hero is no longer quite the hero to him; the states- man is often a plain politician in his eyes. Before I met Mr. Adams I was informed by one who knows him that he was “too good for this warld.” I believe that Mr. Adams does not consider himself at all too good for this life; but he certainly does not consider the part of the world which is cel- ebrated in the daily newspapers quite as good as it is generally accepted to be. It was reported in Boston not very long ago that Mr. Adams had taken up what the east considers the heresy of silver— that he had become an advochte of free coinage. His interest in western properties would naturally give Mr. Adams a certain sympathy with western ideas, but hardly to the point of accepting the free coinage theory as the solvent of the financial diffi- culties of the people of the United Staies. I asked him if he was really a convert to silver. The Currency Question. “The currency question,” he said In re- ply, speaking with deliberation, “is alto- gether too great and complicated a ques- tion for me to undertake to solve. It is a question of extraordinary magnitude, in- volving the commercial prosperity of the whole world. To comprehend it a man must be possessed of a vast store of knowl- edge. Herf are Asia and India and Mexico with one currency system, and the rest of the world with another. ‘The world must come in time to a uniform system. It is impossible for the nations of the earth doing business with each other to go on in- definitely under two systems of currency, fluctuating constantly. It makes too much speculation. The problem, then, is what system shall be adopted universally. To solve this problem a man must be familiar with the commercial relations of Japan and China, their contracts with European rations, and so on; and with the details of the commercial relations of other nations, He must have a universal knowledge of things which comparatively few people un- derstand. I realize this, and so do not un- dertake to propose a solution of the cur- rency question. I have had leanings both ways, and for that reason I doubt my own judgment.” I suggested that Mr. Adams, as a stu- dent and on-looker, probably understood the currency problem as well as some pub- lic men who were proposing to solve it. “T understand it better than manv of them, perhaps,” said Mr. Adams. “I know enough about it to understand how very ignorant I am, while they think they know it all I hear the presidents of little banks around Boston proposirg to settle the whole matter on very short notice.” Mr. Adams shook his head when I sug- gested Senator Jones of Nevada as a man probably better informed on the silver problem than most men. “I received a copy of his last speech cn the silver question,” he said, wearily. “It was something less bulky than Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, I believe. I did not read it. I doubt if five men who-re- ceived it did read it. If Mr. Jones wants to accomplish anything by speech making except filling the columns of the Congres- sional Globe, he ought to le: to con- dense his remarks to about one-fifth their length.” . Some of Mr. Adams’ Dislikes. I said, with a modest admiration for Senator Jones, born of a professional ex- perience with him, that I had heard him discuss the silver question for two hours at a time, and that he was most eloquent. “I don’t like men who are eloquent," said Mr. Adams, shaking his head in mild protest, “and I don’t like men who talk for two hovrs on one subject.” “Do you believe that any man possesses: that universal krowledge which is re- quired for a complete understanding of the matter,” I said, ‘or do you believe that the problem will have to settle itself by degrees?” “{ doubt it any man has the knowledge necessary to a complete understanding of the matter,” sald .Mr. Adams. “As to the men in Congress, the most that they can do is to make the settlement of it more difficult. If it could be left to the business community it would settle itself in good time. But Congress will only complicate it. I believe that we would be a great deal betier off without Icgislation.”” “You share the idea of those who think that the fewer laws Congress passes the better.” “It is not taking a very lofty view of Congress, but I do. The worst feature cf our national legislation is that while it is difficult enough to pass a law, it is al- most impossible to repeal it. I know the difficulty of obtaining congressional action from my experience a few years ago with the Union Pacific railroad and its debt to the government. We hung on for a long time at Washington, thinking that some- thing would be done; but when I look back now I can see plainly that it was always impossible to accomplish anything. Be- tween the corrupt men and the obstinate men—and the latter included the men who wanted to make a record with their con- stituents as being opposed to corporations —both having almost unlimited power of obstruction in their hands, {t was {mpos- sible at any time to have got a bill through Congress.”” “Did you find much corruption in Con- gress?” I asked. “Not so much as I would have expect- ed,” said Mr. Adams. “There was some beyond any question. We were approach- ed for money by some men. But I found that these men were pretty well known— that those who were purchasable had that reputation very generally.” About Members of Congress. Mr. Adams bellev2s that the form of our government {s destructive of all indi- viduality. “In England,” he sald to me, “a in may seek election at the hands of any constituency, and a constituency may find its representative in any part of the kingdom. In the United States a man mvst retain the gocd will of a majority of the voters of a certain party in the perticular district in which he lives. It is difficult for a man of great ability to dc this. The most striking instance of the injustice of this system was the case of Carl Schurz, the best equipped and most independent maalhvho has sat in the Sen- ate in more than thirty years. He got into the Senate-by a finke, and at the end of a very brillant térfh he was retired to pri- vate life. If Mr. Schurz had remained in the Senate he would be today, the most usefdl«man in public life. England men like Mr. Schurz have been retired from parliament by the adverse vcte of one constituency and returned im. mediately aftersby another constituency to fulfill their pub¥ccmission. Mr. Gladstone, defeated at Oxford, reappears from Ltver- peol or Midlothjan Under our system our public me} sooner or later mere party hi or; @pportunists. They have their eyes ; on their districts and they dodge issyes,instead of facing them.” “And what is, your remedy for this state of affairs?’ I “Proportional. .rapresentation,” said Mr. Adams. lef obstacle which postpo! for so long a time the acoption of the Australian system of bal- loting. It is supposed to be something cecmplex, something hard to understand. Unfortunately, when, forty years ago, Thomas Hare first brought hefore the English-speaking race the idea of minor- ity representation, he attempted too much at once. He d to reduce the thing to practice instead of being satisfief with exposing a gross defect in the existing system. He devised a scheme of balloting 80 complicated that no one has yet been able to work it out. Since Hare's time the idea of misority representation has grown | (7A and many systems have béen suggested: ‘The methods now devised cardinal principles that the voting shall be done from the city at large and the representatives “chosen shall be distrib- uted among the various political bodies or groups. There need be little contention about the method employed provided it! embodies these re@uirements. We may adopt the limited vote, 80 called, which | allows the citizen to vote for a certain part of the whole number of representa- tives to be chosen—fifteen out of twenty- one, for instance—and also permits him to cumulate his fifteen votes as he pleases. Or we may have the free list system now in operation in Switzerland and Belgium, which allows voting for party nominations as is done in this country and then ap- pertions the successful candidates among the several parties in proportion to the votes cast by them, taking the required number from those standing highest on their respective party polls. The latter scheme commends itself wholly to my judgment. Tribute to Reed. “The adoption of proportional representa- tion in any form,” said Mr. Adams, “would afford the greatest possible scope to indl- vidual action at the polls, and by it the basis of constituency would be changed. It would rest not as now on the accident of residence in a given locality—the same ward—but on the community of political opinion and identical ends in view. Con- sider what an enormous influence this would give to the intellixent individual yoter! How It would bother the ward ‘boss!" Voters, now divided up and segregated by artificial lines, are so placed that they can be manipulated by astute political managers to the utmost possible extent. ‘Divide and conquer’ is the policy of the professional politician. Under the new sys- tem, of course, the machine could concen- trate its yotes and elect representatives too. But at least the machine would be forced into the open and into a contest on equal’ terms. The ‘mere enabling of mi- norities to unite and secure representa- tion is a vast and obvious improvement in the political condition of those composing minorities.” Speaking of the Reed rules in relation to the obstruction of Jegislation, Mr. Adams paid a warm tribute to the Maine man, and I asked him if he supposed Mr. Reed would have the: individual support of Mas- sachusetts in, the. mational convention—if he was the candidate of Massachusets. “Massachusetts has no candidate,” said Mr. Adams. “i would say from what I know of the feeling of the people of this state that Masgachusetts has not the least interest in any.manm, There is no one now whom Massachuset{s locks on as she did to Sumner or; Andyew. No man occupies their position jn the state today. Probably it is because there is no great issue in which the state is,.interested.” “Not even the free trade question?” I said. = “Massachusetts, cares nothing for free trade,” said Mr. Adams. ‘The moral-re- Hgious questions. gre those which have always interested our people. No such issue presents itself today. When it does, I suppose some men will appear who will represent the people of the state as Sumner did, and as Andrew did.” I asked Mr. Adams if he found signs of prosnerity in the west, where his busi- ness interests largely are. here are indications of returning pros- perity in the west, as there are all over the country,” he said. “There has been no improvement in real estate values yet, but there has been no time for that. Real estate is always the first to feel hard times and the last to recover from them. But there will be a revival in real estate In the near future, I have no donbt.” GEORGE GRANTHAM BAIN. —— ALLIGATOR WAS LIVELY. THE And the Man Who Had Been Pamping Lead Into Him Had to Swim © Life. From the Florida Times-Union. W. A. Gilbert, the gunsmith, and a party of friends have just returned from a hunt- ing and fishing cruise in Nassau sound in the yacht Fannie. and Mr. Gilbert has good reason to congratulate himself that he is not sleeping the last sleep in the stomach of a monster ‘gator. ‘The ’gator was found one morning dozing on the placid bosom of the sound, only his rose and a part of his head protruding. Mr. Gilbert drew a bead on him. “Crack!” went the gun, and the ’gator half leaped out of the water. Then he churned it into bloody foam. Mr. Gilbert hurried up to the "gator and pumped eight more bullets into him. Then the saurian lay still, and Mr. Gilbert concluded that he was dead. Not caring to lose so fine a trophy, he pulled off his clothes and swam to’ the "gator to tie a rope to his tail. He had ad- justed the rope nicely, when suddenly, to Mr. Gilbert's. surprise and horror, ‘the ‘gator wheeled around, with his mouth wide opea, and made’ for his would-be slayer. Mr. Gilbert, with remarkable preserice of mind, dived. ’ When ‘he rose to the surface the ‘gator spied him again, and on he came at a clipping pace. Mr. Gilbert dived again. Three times the same thing was repeated. At last Mr. Gilbert reached the shore. He was almost winded, and his hair, in spite of the water, stood up straight on end, like the quills of a porcupine. NERVY BURGLAR. He Corrects a Professional Mistake Without Turning a Hair. From the Chicago Journal. Burglars entered the apartments of Mrs. Kate Calymore,in the flat building at 26th and State streets last Sunday afternoon while the family were absent. The thieves secured over $300 worth of jewelry and $150 worth of clothing. Among the lot of jew- elry was a pair of diamond bracelets, one of which the chiara dropped in the hall- way in their haste fo escape. The hrace- let was recovered 4nd returned to Mrs. Calymore. Monday the burglary was re- ported to the police, and a description of the stolen property was taken, and yester- cay afternoon’a well-dressed young man called at the Calymore apartments and stated that he was an officer from the cen- tral station. His next statement was that the police had recovered what they thougnt was part of her property, among which was a diamond set’ bracelet. He desirsd that he be allowed! to take the bracelet lcst by the thieves, in order to compare it with ‘the one recovered. Mrs. Calymore obligingly made the loan, but so far the police department has not seen the brace- Jet. The latter are thoroughly convinced that one of the burglars was the author of a sharp trick to obtain possession of the bracelet they dropped in the hallway, and officers of the 22d street station are work- ing on the case, but without result, so far, —__-o+_. Earning an Honest Penny. From La Gaudriole. 2. Miss Lily nestles familiarly on the tap of @ young gentleman who has been paying his addresses to her big sister all through the springtime of this year. “Tell me, sir, are you well off?" “Yes, my little pet.” ‘ou are very well off?” “Why, what difference can it make to you_ whether I am rich or not?” “You see, my sister sald yesterday that she would give twenty francs to know if you were well off, and I should like to earn the money,” HISTORIC BOOKS A Visit to the Library of the First President. HOW THE COLLECTION WAS SECURED Chiefly Valuable Because of the Autographs of the Owner. PRESERVED WITH CARE Written for The Evening Star. Ts VISIT OF THE great hosts of Knights Templar ~to . Boston in connection with the tricnnial conclave aroused in- creased. interest in its treasures of his- toric places and structures, as wellas valuable relics of great men and events. It has been conced- ed that no city pos- sesses in these re- spects more memorials, original portraits and real souverirs of Washingtcn than does Boston, a fact that proves all the more interesting to the fraternity, as he was a member of the order. Even those who come from Virginia, where he be- came a member of the first degree before he rcached his majority, and where he was master of the lodge that subsequently bore his naine, have been surprised to find that, Boston surpasses the collections at Mount Vernon in the most valuable memorial of all—being the possessor of the identical books which formed his library, and which, in large measure, indicated,the progress of his thought and pursuit from boyhood, through his military and political duties as general and President. When the writer of this article was shown through the home of Washington at Mount Vernon he found that a preva- lent misapprehension existed as to the lo- cation of the Washington library, so that Boston failed to receive its due credit. “There is the lMbrary of Washington,” said 4 guide, pointing to a case containing several hur dred books. “I thought we had the library of Wash- ington in Boston,”” was the remark. The guide, perceiving that he was speak- ing to a “doubting Thomas” from Boston, paus:d in his rapid flow of exposition, and spp eapentys in a side explanation, said to im: “Yes, it is true that the books that actu- ally belonged to Washington are to be seen only in Boston, but as we have the book cage here, it was necessary to fill it with books to make an appropriate showing. The library that we have here was put to- gether in various ways—scme being books about Washington, others copies, as near as could be found, of the editions which he owned, and others old publications which serve to indicate the library collections of his time.” The institution in which the books are deposited, the solemn and dignified Athe- naeum library, which is notable, even in a city that contains the most magnificent public library structure in the world, is in itself an object of some mystery to the mass of those who daily pass its somber paladio-fashioned front. In the Alcove. After ascending two high stairways, and noting on the way Stuart's original paint- ing of Washington, the visitor, somewhat breathless between his climbing and his sense of temerity, asks: ‘Can I see the Washington library?” After the impression cavsed by the un- vsual request has passed he is led by an attendant up more sets of narrow tong | staircases, under low alcoves and along whole catacombs of literature ranging through all the degrees of antique death and modern vitality, until a side door is unlocked for him and he passes immedi- ately under a stately mahogany archway which is formed by the two wings and connecting head pieces of the case de- signed to hold the books of Washington. A glance around the apartment shows that it is devoted to valuable books and works of art which are here carefully locked and vigilantly watched. But the prime impression is made when the visitors look up at the life size bust of Washington over the case at the entrance, and then scan beneath it the very books that were possessed and were the intellec- tual stores for the father of his country. As was remarked by the committee of presentation: “There can be few relics of more interest than the books that have been in his hands and which are marked by his handwriting.” Before there is an opportunity to un- lock the case doors and to handle the row: of Washington's books that were handled by him more than a hundred years ago, it is well to note the circum- stances under which they came into the possession of this library. At the annual meeting of the propri- etors in January, 1849, the librarian, re- ferring to the books that had been donat- ed to the library during the year preced- ing, said: “irst in importance is a collection of books which formerly belonged to Wash- ington. Seventy gentlemen of Boston, Cambridge and Salem, by a subscription of $50 each, amounting to nearly $4,000, have secured to the Athenaeum this treas- ure. The light in which they regard it, and the motives which animated them, will best appear from their own words: “The greater number of these books,’ they say, ‘contain Washington’s auto- graph. All which are so distinguished, and Next after them, those which were pre- sentation copies to him, and next to them, those which contain his bookplate, or can in any other way be proved to have been in his possession, would be regarded, even in Europe, as curiosities of great interest and value, and would command prices which might seem incredible to one unacquainted with the sums given for objects associated with the memory of distinguished men.’ “But by an American the collection should be differently esteemed. To uo country has its history left so valuable a legacy as we have inherited in the char- acter of Washington. Of such a man all the relics should be venerated; and there can be few of more interest than the books which have been in his hands and which are marked by his handwriting.’ "” How the Library Was Parchased. In view of these words from the distin- guished and public-spirited donors it seems astonishing that the -whole Washington library could have been secured for so moderate a sum. Certainly if the effort were made at the present day, that sum would have been deemed little enough for some single volumes which it contains, if its possessors could be induced to part with them at all, In _ 1886 a ttle book was publish-d in Lordon, entitled “Recollections of James Lenox,” the founder of the Lenox Library of New York. It was written by Henry Stevens, the bibliographer and lover of books, so the little page reads, who for many years has lived in London collecting rare books, particularly American, both for American and foreign buyers. It was he who got possession of the Washington library, and who sold it to the seventy benefactors of the Athenaeum. ‘The account of the transactions differs somewhat from the official report. “In 1848,” he writes, “I bought Washing- ten’s Ubrary, about 8,000 volumes, for $8,000 to secure possession of about 800 volumes with the autograph of the father of his country on the title page, together with rome rarities, for Mr. Lenox, and many . acts and miscellaneous American books for the British Museum. “Mr. Lenox declined the books with au- tographs, and, there being a great hue and ery raised in Boston against my sending them out of the country, I sold the collec- tion te a parcel of Bostonians for $5,000, but, after passing that old Boston hat around for two or three months for $50 subscriptions, only $3,200 could be raised, and, therefore, as I had used a few hun- dred dollars of the money advanced to me by the promoters, and was in a tight place, I was compelled to subscribe the rest my- self to make up the amount.” There are 384 volumes in all, according to 15 Highest of all in Leavening Power.—Latest U.S. Gov't Report Royal Baking | Powder the records kept by the librarian. The 3,000 volumes which Mr. Stevens said that he bought were not all from Washington's library, but had very many of them been collected by Bushrod Washington, nephew, to whom were bequeathed Mount ‘Vernon, the mansion and its furnishings and 400 acres of land, after the death of Martha Washington. Besides the books owned by Washington the Athenaeum contains one of the finest collections in the country of portraits, manuscript and books about Washington. The original interest of the books has not been departed frem by rebinding, as they are all in the covers-which they had when in Washington’s hands, a dignified and durable brown calf binding. Augustine Washington’s Autograph. A peculiar suggestiveness attaches to the seven books which were in the Washing- ton household during his whole life time, as they belonged to his father, Augustine Washington, whose autograph they con- tain. One of them is of special interest, and is kept in a glass case by itself. It is a discussion of the book of Common Prayer, printed in London in 17]2. The first fly leaf contains the autographs of Augustine, of Washington's mother, Mary, and of George Washington. The last, written as a note in old-fash- iored kardwriting, informs us when he was thirteen years of age. Even more interest- ing is the name of “Mary Washington,’ his mother, written by the young Wash- ingtcn just above his own signature. It is impossible to recognize in this small, neat kandwriting, with its high, elaborate capitals, any resemblance to the bold, slop- ing autograph with which we are so fa- miliar in fac-simile. Between the two in appearance is an autograph made when he was ten years of ege. It is in a work en- titled “A Compleat History of the Piratical States of Barbary,” published in London, 1750. The writing is here very similar that generally known, except that the “G’ is run into the “W” in an extra loop. Another book which was early in the library of Washington was “The Royal English Grammar, containing what is necessary to a knowledge of the English tongue.” The earliest autograph of Washington known to exist was written when he was about nine years of age. It is in a volume of sermons by some forgotten English bishop. George C. Washington, a grand nephew of the President, wrote a note on the fly- leaf of this book which reads: “This auto- graph of Gen. Washington is believed to be the earllest specimen of his handwriting, written when he was probably eight or nine years old.” Among the books are to be found some showing that like other boys he had a taste for scenes of adventure and military escapades, somewhat corresponding to the penchant which dime-novel reading youths have shown in our day with reference to campaigns among the Indians. A volume which boys would read with avidity is “An- son’s Voyage Around the World.” Valuable Books. An odd illustration of his father’s readi- ness to give his autograph is seen in the book entitled “A Compleat View of the British Customs,” in which we find the name “Augustine Washington,” written three times, to which is added the informa- tion, “This book, bought ye 4th of May, 1737, of ye buckseller under ye royal ex- change, cost seven shillings.”” A work which is particularly valuable, as Washington put Kis autograph on twenty- one of its volumes, and on five of them in- scribed “Martha Washington, 1800,” is a work entitled “Annals of Agriculture and other Useful Arts,” by Arthur Young. It bears an inscription “To General Washing- ton, in testimony of the veneration I feel for so. great and good a character.” It is to be remarked that Washington's interest in agriculture is seen in a very marked de- gree in the proportion of his volumes de- voted to agriculture and kindred subjects. Many of the books contain Washington's own book plate, pasted on the inside of the first cover. The design is the Washington arms, an irregular white shield, surrounded by an ornamental border and crossed by two broad lateral bands, near which are a crown, on which a dove is resting. Below the arms is the name “George Washing- ton” in engraved script. A very suggestive and appropriate motto, In the light of Washington's career, is that which is on each of these shields, “Existus acta probat.” A volume foreshadowing the use of steam for navigation is among the books giving a side light or the times. In this the author states that Washington had witnessed one of his experiments and had given his cer- tificate of the boat's efficacy. There is a reminder of the stage in a small collection of comic operas and plays in which is in- scribed “John Auge Washington's Musick Book, 1775." This was Washington's young- er brother. —_———__. The Voice at Buzzard’s Bay. From the Nebraska State Journal. Once, at Buzzard’s Bay, while fishing, I sat musing, wondering, wishing tthe presidential mansion T could bold till life was o'er; 8 I pondered on the matter, ~ Suddeniy I heard a clatter, ‘Az interminable, chatter, From the sl x bly shore. me intruder! thee, I muttered. ‘Wants official bread, well but Some intolerable hore, Seeking office, nothing more.’ As I ent in deep reflection Thinking of the next election, I experienced such defection As I never felt before: ‘Turning, I behbeid a lowly Buzzard, walking slowly Up and down the gravel floors On my Trilbies proudly standing, ke I then in voice commandingt “Tell me tuiy, as a phet, What the future has in store, What for me it bas in store. “In convention consequential, In the campaign presidential, ‘Will my efforts be potential, And my power influential, To seenre the place once more: Bird of death! O bird of evil, ‘Traversing the sandy level, Be thou angel or grim devil, Soothe my spirit, sad and’ soret Will again this noble nation Call me to that honored station?* Quoth the buzzard, Economical, + From the Cincinnat! Enquirer. Brown—“I understand your wife ts a great saver, especially on little things?” Jones—“You tet she is. Why, if she can get a ten-cent article that will last her a lifetime, at three for a quarter, she always buy3_ a quarter's worth in order to save the difference.” ———s An Excusable Error, From Fliegende Blatter. “Here, my young friead, give me a little fire.” “Gracious! I beg your pardon.” A SECTARIAN MULE. A Mountain Animal That Had Prej-— udices in the Matter of Sects. As I jogged along the saniy banks of the Poor Fork of the Cumberland river, letting my herse take its own head, I caught up with a mountaineer on a mule, also taking his time for it, says a Star writer. “Good morning,” says I; “it’s a fine morn- ing for riding.” “Mighty,” saya” he, “ef y’ala’t ridin’ a mule.” “I don’t know about that; some of the ple? santest rides I’ve had in the mountaing have been muleback.' “That's caze yer didn’t have to ride one only when yer want:d ter. Ef yer do it frum needcessity hit’s different.” “That cne you're on seems tu be a pretty one.” : Sena blogg teins mule te Bits to be, reckon,” he , in a tone indicating lack of faith in the mule. Tu “What's the matter with him?” af are they? Notions to kick ti top refl off of the fence?” ~ ,__No; he ain’t much of a kicker; he kinder ‘peers to have a satisfied sort. uv mind, = things purty much as they «me. canoe gia afls him? “Well, I want to git over on t’other side uv the Fork, and I can’t tell I git up here about two miles whar thar’s a boat, so’s F kin ride over in tha’ “Why don’t you ride him over?” wees what I don’t like about him.” vy “He's a Babtis’ mule an’ I'm a Meth’dis’.” This was a poser, and quite beyond my Scope of comprehension. I had heard of religious prejudices, but they had never gone so far as to affect any other animal a ae hs “You will have to explain that int,” eays I. “It's too far over for me.” ae “Well, hit’s this a-way,” he said, with @ short laugh. “Yer see, I got this critter frum a Babtis’ preacher that had raised him. frum a colt, and had rid him fer seven ye’rs on circuit, an’ wouldn't a part- ed with him fer no price, only he wus gcin’ to Mizzoury an’ couldn't take the mule along. He was a power to work, an’ the preacher usened ter help out his wages lettin’ the mule ter people when he wuzn't rdin’ him. That’s how I come to git him. Well, the preacher never said nothin’ an’ I never oxed nothin’, an’ the fust Sunday atter I got him I rid off to the Meth'dis* meetin’, never thinkin’ nothin’. About e mile frum the meetin’ house I had to ford the Fork, an’ the water wuz purty deep that mornin’, but the mule knowed the way, an’ I jis’ let him have his head. An’, by gum, he cone hit, fer when he got to the deepest place he stopped squar in thi crick, tucked his head, h’isted bis heels an’ sent me kitin’ over his years inter the water whar hit wuz four feet deep ef hit Wuz a irch, an’ soused me clean outen sight.” “Did he run away?” I asked, as the mountsineer paused a moment to think over it. “Nary a run,” he said. “When I come up, sneezin’ an’ a-snortin’, he wuz waitin’ thar fer me as quiet ez yer gran’mammy, an’ I got on an’ rid out. Yer see,” he con- cluded, “the dern mule knowed I wuz a Meth’dis’, an’ ez he wuz a Babtis'’, bora an’ raised, he jis' run nis doctrine in onter me an’ soused me all over when he had the chance. He's too good a mule to kill, an” ef he ever does that ag’in I'll kill him shore. So's not to give him no temptation, I never try no more fordin’ with him.” ——.—_. THE CASE OF WAGNER. Called a Typical Decadent and the Writer of Morbid Music. Friedrich Nietzsche in the Fortnightly Review. The service for which Wagner is indebied to Schopenhaur is immense. There first did the philosopher of the decadence give him- self to the artist of the decadence. To the artist of the decadence—that is the word. And it is here that my serious: commences. I am not at all inclined to pe a quiet spectator, when this decadent ruins our health—and music along with it. Is Wagner a man at all? Is he not rather a disease? He makes everything morbi een he touches—he has made music mor- A typical decadent, who feels himself necessary with his corrupt taste, who claims that it is a higher taste, who knows how to assert his depravity as a law, as progress, as fulfillment. And nobody defends himself, Wagner's pewer of seduction becomes prodigious, the smoke of incerse steams around him, the misunderstanding about him calls itself “Gospei"—it is by no means the poor in spirit exclusively whom he has convinced. I should like to open the windows a little, Air! More air! It Goes not surprise me that people de- ceive themselves about Wagner in Ger- many, The contrary would surprise me, The Germans have created for themselves a Wagner whom they can worship; they have never been psychologists, they are thankful they misunderstand. But that people also deceive themselves about Wa; ner in Paris! where people are almost noth- ing else but psychologists. And in St. Petersburg' where things are still divined which are not divined even in Paris. How intimately related to the entire European decadence must Wagner be, when he ig not recognized by it as a decadent. He belongs to it; he is its Protagonist, its greatest name. Peopie honor themselves when they exalt him to the skies. For no one to defend himself against Wagner is already a sign of decadence. Instinct is weakened. at should be shunned attracts people. That which drives still faster into the abyss is put to the lips, You want an examp): One need only observe the regime which the anaemic, the gouty and the diabetic prescribe for themselves. Definition of the vegetarian: A being who necds a strength- ening diet. To recognize what is hurtful, as hurtful, to be able to deny oneself what is hurtful is a sign of youth and vitality. The exhausted is allured by what is hurt- ful, the vegetarian by his potherbs, Dis- ease itself may be a stimulus to life, only @ person must be sound enough for such a stimulus! Wagner increases the exhau: tion; it is on that account that he allures the weak and exhausted. Oh, the ratth snake joy of the old master, when he al- Ways saw just “the little children” come to him. I give prominence to this point of view. Wagner's art is morbid. The problems which he brings upon the stage—nothing but problems of hysterics—the convulsive- ness of his emotion, his over-excited sensi- bility, his taste, which always asked for stronger stimulants, his instability, which he disguised as principles, and, not least, the choice of his heroes and heroines regarded as physiological typ@s (a gallery of morbid individuals!). Altogether these symptoms represent a picture of disease about which there can be no mistake. Wagner est un nevrose. —_+e-+___. It Wan No Joke to the Barber. From the Lewiston (Me.) Journal. A Lewiston barber was surprised one day last week to find that the air had been let out of his bicycie In front of his very shop. Naturally, he took :t up to the nearest bl- cycle store and asked them to slow it up. Now, the truth was, this bicycle dealer wanted his hair cut, ané@ didn’t want to pay for it, and sv he went down «nd let the air out of the wheel when t wasn't locking. “I'll blow it up f cut,” said he, “All right, come slow the barber. The hair on one side was cut, when by some means the joke became r to the barber, and he jaid down his the quarter. “Well, ou can go,” said barber. The ler loosed at his head in the glass and sighed as he found the siiver piece in his pocket. ———-+0e+ A Matter of Inheritance. From the Chicago Tribune. Tommy (inspecting hinself in the looking glass)—“Papa, there's a little mcle on the right side of my nose just like the one Un- cle Scadds has cn the right side of his nose, I must have got that from him.” ‘Tommy's Father (with some bitterness)— “If you did you're the only relative he has that ever got anything from him.”