Evening Star Newspaper, November 23, 1895, Page 15

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1895-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. § 15 SUNDAY IN PARIS Glimpse of What the Day in One Continental City is. OBSERVED AS A GENERAL HOLIDAY Some Leave the City and Others Visit Places of Amusements. IT ALL COSTS, MONEY Bpecial Correspondence of The Evening Star. PARIS, October 12, 1895. N PARIS TH churches are open all day Sunday, as through the rest of the week. So are the museums, the gal- leries, the parks, the horticultural and zoo- logical gardens, the cafes, music halls and theaters, the exposi- tions, the monuments and the resorts of the environs. Only, as Sunday comes but once a week, they are all open a little more s0. The churches have more services, greater music and their frequenters are more smartly dressed and bright-faced than on week days. The botanical and zoological gardens give orchestral concerts. All gov- ernment collections, galleries and museums are thrown open with pecullar freedom. ‘The dance halls achieve family matinees, as do the theaters and cafes-concerts. The ice palace and the north pole lower their admission prices. The expositions charge ten cents instead of a franc. The railways and the omnibuses put on double service. ‘The cabmen smile content, The old ladies who sell newspapers have clean caps. Ev- erybody 1s well dressed. Utter strangers keam on each other from across the street. The children skip lke goats upon the moun- tains. The young girls flutter and cast down their eyes. The old gentlemen make eyes se At the Labor Exposition. at every pretty lady. The young men feel their neckties and make a looking glass of the shop windows. Voluminous mammas march behind their stomachs with placidity. The air is full of a delightful hum, the Streets are brilliant with their movements and their colors, and over all there seems to brood a softening hope and courage. In a word, it is Sunday in Paris. The peo- ple who have throughout six days been meekly fulfilling the curse of Adam, in earn- ing their bread by the sweat of their brow, delight in Sunday as it lifts the curse,though for a day. They are happy to put on their individuality—like a best coat, put by throughout the week—forget the stress and lack which made them like machines, and they exult in life, which is not really, after all, so very hard to live—if you have Sunday once a week. Some of the Diversions, The great object of every Parisian ts to get away on Sunday. To get away from his box-like apartment, away from the street which he knows, away from his ordinary Preoccupations, away from home-cooking. If he cannot go into the country, he will go to the races; if he cannot go to the races, he will go to a matinee; if he cannot go to a matinee, he will go to the zoo, and if he can- not pay the zoo admission price, he will sit in a park and watch the children play their hoops and boats and rubber balls, or watch the sparrows playing in the branches. I know of nothing better than the Boule- yard on Sunday morning. The Bols, on Monday morning, is more elegant, distin- Buished, practiced and select. But you can- not have such sympathy with its well- groomed and dainty clientele as with the brave folk who will pass your cafe terrace by the opera on the morning of their one ay day in seven. The autumn air is crisp and fresh. The autumn leaves go skurry- ing merrily. The sawdust of the cafe ter- race is all fresh and golden. There ts no coffee in the world like this, no little roll 80 crisp and brown and creamy. The morning newspapers have their de- lightful smell of ink. Or with a fresh, Yellow-covered volume of the dialogues of “Gyp" or Maurice Donnay, to cut the pages leisurely with a knife borrowed from the cafe waiter, while one watches leisurely, yet full of strength, the world that wakes, is an occupation fit for men more righteous even than you and I. The magnificent Chureh of the 9 eine is only a dozen steps away. Shall we wait for the high mass the music and the fashionable crowd at 11 o'clock? Shall we hasten and mingle with more serious people at this very hour? Hundreds pass us in the constantly increas- ing crowd, who have already been to church at 7 o'clock, or 8 o'clock or 9 o'clock. quite as many hundreds pass—ala will not set their feet irside a sacred e fice at all! Such are the pitfalls of the con- tinental Sunda Animated § venes, At 9 o'clock it is a crowd a-foot, with kages and baskets, hurrying to the rail- Way stations. At 10 o'clock the cabs are At 11 o'clock there darting intricately. mighty stream of resta clients and gay promenaders. e race chariots pick up fa Bubbling working girl: sa ribbors, prattle, Brave workingmen from the urbs flaunt their fresh-ironed blouses Whole families from,the country gape and nch in Paris Murmur. It is the hour for lu '—Sunday lunch—which means lunch in a restaurant. ‘With some of these lunch lasts two hours; for the whole family sits and chatters, lingers over little cuts of sausage or pink radishes with butler, lingers over fish with wonderful pirk sauces, dallies with the frugal epigramme d’agnaau on its bed of turnip puree, play with their little peas, phenomenally green and sweet and tender, cooked with little onions white as pearls skip the expensive roast to plunge into ex- pense with the sweet dish, the fruit, the cheese, the coffee and the little glass of Chartreuse, glinting like a melted emerald. Then the father gives his school-boy son a cigarette—for Sunday—and they rediscuss their plans for afterncon. - All the morning the parks have been full. You may watch the dignified old gentlemen who promenade, the smart wet nurses, glor- ious with ribbons and bright cloaks; decor- ous children, too well bred to play before the afternoon; tne promenading common soldiers,who have fun though not possessed of money, the old ladies with their social lap dogs, the young mothers with their mioches—mioche is exactly “kid’—the peo- ple coming back from church, the senti- s who sit reading, those who feed the birds and those who make ac- quaintances and chat. In the Art Galleries. In every country town within a radius of twenty miles there are crowds of Parisians out for the day. They scramble through the dead ferns and the sand and scrub of alleged forests, picnic in rude country tav- erns, visit Gothic churches, ride through autumn fields tn rusty country cabs. Ver- sailles and Fontainebleau draw equal throngs. “Robinson,” the students’ delight, is a pandemonium on Sunday morning, af- terncon and evening. It is nothing but a woods with giant trees, sume said to be Suv years of age, and mcstly trunks, wherein are built a species of rude pavilions. There is no town, but several streets appear to etraggle up and down a wooded hill which has a view; and these streets are composed of crooked ways between suburban restau- rants with gardens, summer houses, bo: quets and these little houses in the old tree trunks. The mingled music of orchestras, organs, brass bands, and pianos mingles with -the shrieks of Trilbys snd the brays of many a Little Billy, blowing on tin horns or not, dancing, stamping, hugging and hurrahin, Of course ‘‘Rcbinson” has reference to U tree houses of our old friends ‘The Swiss Family Robinson.” But, as the French can never get things straight, the advertise- ments all are of poor Crusoe and his parrot. They go to Sceaux and mary a country town, to dance there on the village green, or, if it rains, not on the green, but in the musty ‘fete tent of the municipality, lent for such occasions. They go to the autumn country fairs, the Thanksgiving festivities pf the little farmers. They go up and down the river on the boats, to Cnarenton, to Saint Cloud. They drink new wine at mn 4K one end and eat cold ; waffles at the other. They go to the flower show at Meudon, drink the beer of Saint Germain in the old forest by the cas- tle, ride through the woods of rich sub- urban towns like Maisons-Laffitte, or plent themselves to / watch the bicyclists ~ = no matter where, so % there be place to stretch upon the eward, even in the late October. They have no fear of rheuma- tism, for all Parisians have that malady al- ready. The win drinking, the spiced feed- ing, the economizing cf fires in apartment house life and the peculiar basin-like situa- tion of Paris guarantee it, just as London guarantees to every son and daughter two wet feet. This is not counting the Bois itself and the bicyclists of the Bois. The avenue of the Grand Armee alone has some 200 bicycle shops and agencies, “academies” and out- fitters and repairers’ establishments. The Bois has its alleys of endless promenade; it has th? race course; it has the Jardin d’Ac- clfmitation. All Leave Home. If the morning streets were crowded, now the afternoon makes them seem like some interminalle Midway Plaisance. ‘There are two million and a half of people in Paris. They will not stay in the house of Sun- days. It fs brisk autumn, yet they sit out in the terraces of the cafes, out on the sidewalks. The hundreds of thousands who sit stare at the promenaders. The hun- dreds of thousands who promenade look for a place to sit. And yet with all the beer and wine and bad drug drinks there are no tipsy people. And with the flirting and the awful immcrality on all sides, young men still find time to walk out with their mothers, proud to do it. It is 5 p.m., the hour of absinthe. The green devil. Yet the people promenade on, placidly. Tomorrow nearly all must work. Tonight there fs still dinner, still the cup of coffee, still the theaters, dance hall, va- riety show, still the boulevard, with its majestic, soothing tidal flow, its calming beer in many 4 brasserie, its dominoes and cards in the cafes, where the children will find all the illustrated weeklies of the last eight days, and where madame may sit be- side her gambling lord and read a yellow- covered romance, cheered by the bright lights and the gay hum, ard resting her tired limbs, her feet upon a little wooden stool that the gsrcon has found and placed for her with confidential deference, as if to say: “This is the only foot stool of the whole establishment, and I have kept it hid expressly waiting for madame.” It ts a heathen kind of Sunday, and it costs a lot of money. Perhaps that is why the Parisivns are so avaricious and skimp- ing, so econcmizirg. Certainly if such a continental Sunday should ever invade America, our people, with their free-hand- ed wa would find themselves in a pre- dicament. The working people would have to have more money to spend. STERLING HEILIG. ————— She Put It on Ice. From the New York Herald. A New York woman who frequently re- ceives game and other good things from western friends received notice from them the other day that a box was on its way to her. Always in a chroric state of hunger, this woman charged her janitress to put the box on ice upon its arrival, being absolute- ly certain that something very good was about to tempt her appetite. Imagine her surprise when the janitress brought up the box, with many apologies for having forgotten it fer two days, but she added I've kept {t on ice till the bot- tom almost dropped out, and I’m sure it's ig too light for game.” The it women opened the box and found a collarette of plush, the that has not yet found armth it was intended to convey. HOW TO KEEP WARM Devices of Amusing Ingenuity to Outwit Jack Frost. WARMTH EVEN WHEN SLEIGHING Hands and Feet Guarded and Street Cars Heated. THE KITCHEN FIRE >—— - ROM THE PATENT office files it would appear that no one with a few dollars to spend on luxury has any excuse for a shiver or a_ teeth- chatter In these pro- gressive days. Cold hands and feet are out of the question. What would you think of the proposi- tion to line your clothes with steam pipes and carry a boller around in your pocket? An ingenious Yankee has recently procured a patent for such a system. He will make you a jacket—somewhat corset- like—guaranteed to fit the upper part of your body. This steam underwear is to be worn usually over heavy flannels. It is of hollow steel tubes fastened together with ball and socket joints, so that the wearer will not feel as though placed in a straight jacket. The principal tube forms a belt for the waist, and smaller pipes branch from it, one running up the spinal column and others spreading over the chest like the bones of the thorax. In addition, a hood of heavy cloth covers the head and shoulders. A valve in the belt allows the steam to enter from either a general steam system or a small portable boiler. The inventor suggests that this device is of especial value to per- sons taking long drives or sleigh rides in cold weather. Mr. Slim Jim, who suffers from cold feet, need no longer wear flannel-lined articl which cover the points of his razor-bladed shoes. He can purchase a foot warmer which will not disfigure him in the least. It is a strange contraption, forming a long “Y" made of rubber hose. Each of the forked branches runs down the leg of the panta- loons into the shoes. The single tube leads up through the collar, ending in a mouth- piece. As Mr. Slim Jim walks he need sim- ply exhale his warm breath into this trum- pet and he will feel it down in the very bot- tom of his boots. Mr. New Wed need have no fear of getting his lumbar nerves chilled, now that winter is nearly upon him. He should get Mrs. New Wed a pair ef shoes with stoves inside, such as are now made. Each has a small com- pact lamp placed in a metal chamber be- tween the inner and outer soles. In the heel fs a small reservoir for oil or alcohol. A slow, smoldering powder may also be used. Similar ai tations are made for skate: saddle stirrups, sewing machine and bicycle pedals. Indeed, Mrs. New Wed might provide a gas reser in her bloom- ers, thus feeding the flame at her boots with- out utilizing oil or other dangerous fuels. The Aid of Electricity. Other foot warmers are made In many forms. Stoves are adapted to hassocks, stools for church pews, etc. Rugs contain- ing electric coils are now made for men who éttend open-air stands, or for passen- gers in street cars, ferty boats, railroad trains and other public conveyances. ‘These are simply connected with the ordinary electric light wire, end the extra expense of the electric fan in summer may thus be spent for keeping warm in winter. An- other enterprising citizen has patented combination cuspidor foot rmer, a lux: ury evidently intended for the ‘country store. Hand warmers are equally as numerous. The cold weatier paraphernalia of the up- to-date woman will be inccmplete without a muff stove. The inevitable cold-handed man will rot be happy without two over- coat pocket stoves. Patents for these may be counted by scores. The face warmer is another new device. It is covered with velvet or plush, and will give a natural blush to the cheek. It {s convenient for those suffering from neuralgia or cold ears. All of these minute portable stoves are made so that no fuel can escape, regardles of the position in which they are held. They utilize all sorts of fueg—usually a smoldering. powder or cartridge. This burns in a cavity in the middle of the ves- sel. Several coverings of gauze and ashe: tos and a partition or two of perforated tin reduce the heat through insulation, at the same time allowing sufficient circula- tion of air. The outside covering fs made in various shapes, and is usually covered with cloth of some kind. Now Mr. Chatterchops will equip himself with all of these modern luxuries lest he should catch cold on his way to the street car in the morning. On entering this con- veyance, however, he will have no need of them. Electric “heaters, supplied with warmth by the frictional gear of the car wheels, raise the atmosphere within to a cemfcrtable temperature. Lest a draught should genetrate through the window sashes or under the doors of his office, he has his sanctum furnish®d with a desk, re- volving chair and rug, all electrically con- rected. treadies In Spite of the Cold. In the afternoon Mr. C. goes carriage driving or sleigh riding with his wife. Still he ba es the elements. His equipages are all furnished with carriage or sleigh heat- ers, such as are now made. When he reaches home he does not find his doorstep covered with snow and sleet, such as might cause death if trod upon. By an electrical device he has connected the iron steps with a circuit, which, when turned on, melts and thoroughly dries the whole surface. Simi- lar systems are now used for melting ice and snow off the rails of street car and other railway tracks. For keeping warm at night our friend has his ckoice of several bed heaters. One of these is a long cylinder lying at the bottom of the footboard. It isa steam pipe wrapped with heavy cloth and covered with rubber. Or for colder weather he may use one of the modern patent beds with mattress and pil- lows of thin rubber. These are to be filled with hot water or inflated with hot air. ‘They are also valuable in summer, as the patentee remarks, because they may be filled with cold water. A luxury indeed, but not so great as the very latest electric beds. The mattress and pillows of these are stuffed with mineral wool and are placed in circuit with the elec- tric light wire. By using a switch at the eide of this couch, Mr. C. may at any time regulate the temperature of his mattress and pillows. Lest a cold draught should penetrate under his covers during the night, he takes to bed with him an electric hot water bag. A wire enters at the neck and connects with a metal comb within, which when electrified becomes hot and imparts its heat to the water. Starting the Kitchen Fire. There are nearly as many patents for electric heaters as there are for those util- izing either ccal, gas or steam. The major- ity of electric heaters are very modern, of course. Electric radiators, it is said, will take the place of steam radiators in the modern house, as well as electric cook stoves, now made in all sizes and forms. There are also many patents issued for flat- irons and curling tengs, with electric con- nections, all of which are warranted not to smut The domestic need no longer play sad havoe with the Kerosene can. Modern geni- us has also provided against all of the evils attending the fuel question. The servant may sleep late and then make a roaring fire in the kitchen range in less time than it takes her to light the match. Patents for rapidly igniting fuels employ numerous chei.ical ingredients warranted not to burst. Scores of different cartridges are now made fer this purpcse. Many of these have long handles, that they may be held in the stove without setting one’s clothes afire. Others may be clamped tightly to the under side of the grate and left there until the coal above thoroughly ignites. One man has patented pine cones, treated with a chemical formula, and which, when ignited, sre said to make a lightning-flash starter for a coal 6r wood fire. Another of these simple artificial fuels is made of corn cohs dipped in resin and other combustible in- gredients. A patent is also granted fof little paper cones filled with resin, coal dust and chips of wood. A patent dating very recently is for treating the burrs of sweet gum trees with a solution made of resin and turpen- tine. The whole is afterward rolled in saw- dust and mounted on a handle of wire. Balls are also made of wood, paper and other Waste matter rolled together and coated With inflammable liquids. A Garbage Destruction Plan. But why rot have a garbag¢ crematory of your own, thus keeping, warm and healthy co-operatively? Garhage, in the opinicns of several inventors, May be con- verted into both cheap and excellent fuel. As specified in a very recent’ patent the garbage should be first sprinkled with va- rious acids to “neutralize the offensive odors.” It is then fed to a press, which converts it into a dry pulp. The pulp is mixed with a combustible material made of refuse from petroleum stills. At last it is molded into cakes and is ready to be shov- eled into the stove. An economic Canadian sin ilarly provides a fuel formed of gar- bage, manure, ashes, coal dust, benzine, pe- trolecm, sassafras ofl and common salt. A patent is also given for converting the refuse from distilleries, breweries, sugar and starch factories into fuel. But here is the cheapest of all meth- ods of creating warmth. That ts if you have the proper machinery. The problem ot focusing the sun's rays 80 as to give a steady heat seems to give the American inventor much food for thought. Many pat- ents are given for solar boilers, in which water is heated by a focusing sunlight upon the surface of metal vessels. A progressive inventor has recently pat- ented several devices for keeping the solar focus in one spot, although the king of planets continues his regular rounds. A car bearing a system of mirrors runs on a cir- cular track at a speed regulated to keep the focus stationary. Other ingenious souls would box up the sun's heat during the day, into insulated vessels, and use it for heating purposes at night. Indeed, if this were practicable there could be no cheaper sclution of the problem—how to keep warm. ee IT WAS NOT A MOCK MARRIAGE. A Young Woman Who Was Married During a Play on the Stage. From the San Francisco Examiner. There is a charming little woman in town who doesn’t know whether she is Miss Inez Mercer or Mrs. R. B. Wescott, and the un- certainty has grown so intolerable that she has asked the superior court to put an end to it by adjudging that if she {s Mrs. R. B. Wescott she never meant to be, and that she shall be no longer. In May she took a hand in amateur theatricals in Portland and so did a gay young swain named Wes- cott. As the playwright had it there were two lovers in the drama, and as the ad- vance agent mapped out the case, he and Miss Mercer were these two lovers. Ac- cording to the play the lovers had the usual stormy time of it, but In the last act ev- erything turned out beautifully and the vi!- lain was compietely foiled. The hero and heroine tripped along to the strains of a wedding march in the last act, the parson appeared ani the friends offer- ed the customary congratulations. Then the curtain went down, Everybody laughed and pronounced the show excellent. Wes- cott left Portiand a few days later, and the lady in the case dismissed the play from mind and went along with her painting and her music. But one afterngon -she heard that she had been led into,a trap by the lover of the play and that the marriage ceremony had not been a sham, It transpires that prior jo donning his wig and stage clothes Wesgott procured a marriage license and arranged to have an ordained clergyman officiate at, the altar. The on actually attended..and went the marriage ceremony in due she and W scott. making; the usual nses. The young woman ascertained ott's whereabouts and wrete to him erence to the matter. days later, she deelapes, she re- ed a letter from him in-whjeh he ad- dressed her as his “dear wife.’’ Shortly af- ter receiving this letter Miss Mercer—or Mrs. Wescott—removed to this: eity, where she has since resided. Now; she wants the court to investizate the witie muddle, to learn for ec in whether the ceremony Was or Was not licensed ag whether ordained clergyman pefforméd the cer mony. If her informatfon ag fo the’ situa- tion is found to be correct, then she wishes a adjudging the marriage invalid. t that she expects von to be a participant in genuine nuptials with a gen- tleman of this city and that this is one n why she is eager to have the un nty as to her name and status clear ed away. ——-see—______ A Thanksgiving Song. Frank L. Stanton in Chicago Times-Herall. It's comin’ ‘long—Thanksgivin’, with its pleasures and its joys— An’ we" “lookin” for the Lox urd to the meetin’ with An’ Bue ‘ome from college, an’ Jimmy won't An’ praets mighty thankful that we're all ‘Tee tux cy's been a-spreadin’ of his feathers—fat An’ his “gobble, gobble, gobble” seems a-darin’ us to dil But the veriict’s been ag'in bim, an’ bis execu- tion's set, An’ he ‘makes us feel right happy that we're all a-livin’ y There's folks will come from Texas, from Tilnots New York will send us Billy, aun’ Hampsbire'll give We'll bave a great hatdsbakin’ whe all the friends An’ won't we feel right bappy that we're all a-liv- in’ yet! It's comin’ ‘long—Thankselvin’, with all {ts love an’ ght, Its dinners in’ the daytime, its melodies at night; The turkey’s fat and Juicy—the table siiver’s set, ve're feelin’ mighty bappy that we're all ‘a- The Drama, From the Detroit Tribune. “Horatio,” whispered the heroine, “the vil- Jain still pursues us."” “Ha,” exclaimed the lover. “But fear not. See thou the ravine that intervenes between us and him?” “Yes, Horatlo, but the bridge. He can cross yon bridge at a_bound.”” “Fear not, I say. He has got to stop in the middle of the bridge and do a song and dance. Courage ——___—_ + e+-____ A Conditional Reward. From the New York Weekly. Woman—‘My husband has disapp2ared and may be dead. I want to offer a reward for his body. Chief of police—Yes, madam. e ll _be neéded, and this, with the re- He may you know, in which case we may je to return him to you. “I shan't pay a cent of reward unless he is returned dead, just remember that.” Will no doubt prove effective. What Made Him So, From Harper's Bazar, = = Johr this yes Tompkins with fri Joh some Tompkins—“Yes, I was; especially Satur- days and Sundays.” John—"Why couldn't you arrange to spend those days with her?” Tompkins—"I did. wife go to the country Yes; she spent the summer ds at Blue Point.” ‘You must have been pretty lone- | SEPARATED BY FATE. The Futile Attempts of a Husband and Wife to Be Reunited. From the San Francisco Post. A well-dressed woman walked into the Crocker building yesterday afternoon and took an elevator. Her husband saw her from across the street, and, hurrying over, took the next elevator. He went to the office where he knew his wife had business and found that she had stepped in and out and gone down in the next elevator. The elevator dispatcher said to her: “Your husband just went up the elevator. I think he is looking for you.” The lady took the next elevator up. Just then her husband came down. He looked all around, and then inquired of the elevator man: “Have you seen my wife here?” “Yes, she just went up this minute.” The man took the next elevator, and he Was no more than out of sight till his wife came down again. “Your husband has just gone up again,” said the elevator man. “I guess he'll wait for me this time, so I'll go up.” And up she went. Down came her husband a second after- ward. “Did my wife come down again?” he inquired. “Yes, and just went up again. thought you would wait for her.” “Well, I'll wait here.” . He waited about five minutes, and then, growing impatient, took an elevator up- stalrs. She had been waiting for him and caine down again just as he disappeared. “Well, I will wait for him and catch him this time,” said she. After standing in the corridor several minutes she decided to go upstairs and find him. As she was whisked out of sight he stepped out of another elevator. “Your wife has just gone up,” said the elevator man. The husband swore a little under his breath and started to leave the building. At the door he hesitated, changed his mind and took the next elevator up. Down came his wife at the same moment. “He's just | gone up again,” was the elevator man’s answer to her weary look of in- quiry, “and he's mad as a hornet.” “Then I had better go right up and catch him,” said she. Up she went and down he came. “Just went up,” remarked the elevator man. “I’m darned if I'm going up again,” said he.* “I'll wait right here,” and he sat dewn on the stairs. Half an hour later he was still citting there, and his wife, equally determined, was waiting for him upstairs. ——_——— +e REPORTED BY A MAN She Everybody Agre With the Chair- mun, but the Whispering Went On. From the Buffalo Express. “Now, ladies,” said the chairman of the conventicn, rapping with her gavel “re- member, please, that we must have order. I must ask you to refrain from whispering during the progress of the meeting.” Still the low sibilant sound from the group of pretty heads that had got to- gether in one corner of the hall continued. The chairman looked annoyed, and Tap- ped with he: gavel more severely. The group of pretty heads broke up and the whispering ceased in that quarter, but over on the opposite side of the hall a delegate was seen to lean toward her neigh- bor, and the disagreeable hissing was re- sumed. “Is it possible,” said the cha!rman, “that I must repeat my request? You will refrain from whispering, please.” The offending head nodded approvingly, but the whispering did not stop. “If necessary aid the chairman, with a touch of anger, “I shall become personal in my requests. Wiil the delegate from Boston kindly postpone her private con- versation with her neighbor till the meet- Ss over?” e from Boston straightened up nd flushed hotly. bie,” she exclaimed, “that you said the chairman; “there was no one else whispering at the moment, 1 Lelieve. aid the delegate from Boston, “I saying to my neighbor what a endid chairman you made to stop the ering of those ladies from Onio over I don’t see how you can object to ying that? “We will have no whispering on any sub- ject," said the chairman, sternly, And with that at least a dozen heads in different parts of the hail bobbed over toward their neighbors’ desks, and_ the su on grew into a prolonged hiss, from which could plainly be distinguished such expressions as “Serves her right,” “The idea! What a splendid chairman!” etc. A look of despair came over the chair- man’s face, and she sat down, with a ignal to the secretary to go on with ing of the minutes and let the whisperers have their vay. Ronds Made of Molasses. From the Salt Lake Herald. The Utah Sugar Company has begun a novel use for the waste product from the works at Lehi, known as by-product, or Roads are actually being con- structed with the sirups, which are value- less as sugar producers, the life having been extracted. The molasses is used as a cement, the body of the road material be- ing made up of gravel. This new method was first used on the road leading from the country road to the sugar factory, and the travel over this thoroughfare since the opening of the sugar season has demon- strated the value of the ‘ups and gravel as materials for the improving of roads. The piece of road that has been so im- proved is as hard as macadam, and even the heaviest loaded wagons do not cut it up. The sirups are first poured over the roadway to be improved, and then a layer of gravel is sprinkled on. More sirups and gravel follow in their turns, until the read is in perfect condition. There seems to be just sufficient potash salts in the molasses to give it the necessary cementing qual- S. i Enis making of roads and ks with ref- use sirups from sugar factories has also been successfully tried in California. It 1s not at all unlikely that at the end of the present season the company will make mcre improvements on the roads leading to the factory. At first the molasses showed a tendency to ooze up through the gravel, but the application of an extra coating of gravel remedied this, and made the road as smooth as a floor and as hard as pavement. soe Pneumatic Hubs for Bicycles. From the Chicago Times-Herald. A pneumatic hub bicycle has been invent- ed which the inventor claims will revolu- tionize cycle construction. The invention consists in the insertion of a small pneu- matic tube in the hub of the front and rear wheels, so protected as to give the lateral rigidity of the ordmary hub, and at the same time afford the resilience found In the reg- ular pneumatic tire. The object of the in- yention is to do away with the question of punctured tires, and the inventor claims to have solved the problem. The rim tire of the machine is designed with rubber center and two hollow gauges, so as to be practi- cally non-puncturable, and yet give 2 cush- jon effect, which, together with that afforded in greater degree by the pneumatic tubing at the hub, it is asserted by the inventor, will equal, if not excel, the resilience of the best cushion tire. The hub construction is of small and light | proportion. The machine, as constructed by the inventor, weighs 22% pounds. ‘The hub tubing is in the form of a life preseryer. , It is four inches in diameter and constructed of 5-12-inch rubber. It revolves with the | wheel, and is protected by a steel thimole from friction with the axle. It is inflated by means of an ordinary ball joint valve. Even when the tube is deflated, however, the machine can be ridden without injury, says the inventor, either to the tube itself er to the metallic parts surrounding. ———_--+e A Possibility. From the Detroit ‘Tribune. She started violently from her slumbers. | “There's a man in the house!” she shricked. She glared wildly about her. . No, she finally moaned, am mis- | | teken. | She was not yet fully accustomed to her new womanhood, and being naturally some- what timid, she was forever frightening herself. : ———+e+ Hard to Answer. From St. Paul's. The Cross-eyed Waiter (after the collision) —"“Why don’t you look where you're go- ‘Why don't you go where you're looking?” === Highest of ail in Leavening Power.— Latest U.S. Gov't Report Re al YES Baking Powder ABSOLUTELY PURE BRIDAL SUPERSTITION Acts of Qmission and Commission That Bring Luck or Ill Luck. From the Philadelphia Press. Few girls are dauntless enough to risk being married on a Friday and also ia the month of May, which is considered a very unlucky time, while June, September, Oc- tober and December are ‘eemed the luck- iest months of the year, but even then she must avoid the thirteenth day. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday are con- sidered the best days to he married on if assurance of happiness is desired, for— lay for wealth, day for health, Wediiesday the best day of all! ‘Thursday for crosses, Suturday uo luck at all. All brides-elect rejoice when the marriage day dawns brightly, remembering the old adage: Blest is the bride upon whom the sun doth shine. And all are equally certain that— To change the name and not the letter Is a change for the worse and not the better. The day following tie wedding belongs exclusively to the husband, and fortunate for him if it be fair. In earliest times among the Jews the fourth day of the week was considered un- lucky for maidens to wed and the ilfth for widows. The Romans considered the nones and ides of each month «s unlucky. The postponement of a wedding is even now regarded with such horro~ that*many will be wedded on a sick bed or in a house of mourning rath2r than change the date. It is an overbold woman, indeed, who will let her vanity so far set the better of her as to don her >ridal rebes in their entirety before the hour set for the ceremony, 4s such an act presages death and dire mis- fortune. In fact, the bride's toilet has a great deal to do with her future happiness, and it is a wise girl who remembers all the superstitions pertaining <0 it. She should always remember to put her right shoe on first, for to don the left first portends an unhappy riarried life. White is the color usually chosen for bridal robes, signifying purity and mnocence, but others may be chosen wisely, as the follow- ing rhyme asserts: Married in white, You have chosen ‘all right. Married in gray, You will go far’ away. Married tu black, You will wish yourself back. Married in red, rou'd better be dead. rijed in green, Ashamed to be seen. reled in blue. You'll always be true. Married in pearl, You will live in a whirl, Married in yellow, aimed of the fellow, Married in brown, You'll live out of’ town. Married in pink, Your spirits will sink. Then no bride must go to the altar with- out “something old and something new, something borrowed and something blue.” Neither must she, after her toilet is com- plete, look at herself in the mirror. She must see that no bridal guest wears a cos- tume entirely black, as that would bring her sorrow. On changing her gown she must throw away every pin used in the bridal attire. No girl who would be a happy bride must take a hand in the raking of her wedding cake or the sewing of her bridal own. To try on a wedding ung before the cer: mony is unpropitious. Should the shaking hand of the groom drop this symbol of love in the act of putting it on the bride's finger the ceremony had better be stopped right there. To lose it is prophetic of evil, and many fancy to remove it after it is placed on the finger is unluck The breaking of 1 wedding ring is surely prophetic of the siezth of one o2 the married twain. peed is an explanation to this supersti- tion: As the wedding rings wears, So wear away life’s cares, Which is of the same theory that time wiil cure all ills. The throwing of rice and old stppers (which should never be omitte’) is descend- ed from antiquity, rice meaning fertility and plenty, while the old shoe is supposed to invoke the favor of the fickle goddess of fortune. No bride or xroom must turn back aiter starting, and ihe bride must be sure when she leaves home to place in Ler pocket a silver coin, so that in future years she may not come to nt. In the Isle of Man it fs customary for the bride and groom to 0 to the altar with a pinca of salt in their pocket, to insure a life of prosp= Above all things should a bride weep cn her wedding day, no matter how happy she may be. She rust squceze out a tear or so, for the brile who neglects to weep will be very unhappy ndeed. ——_+e A WOMAN'S IDEA. She Got All Her Family Provisions for Nothing. From Truth. Mrs. Dorcas—“I haven't told you about my new neighbors in the flat upstairs. They are so nice; and then, you know, a newly married couple are always so interesting. Poor thing, how inexperienced she is! As scon as I saw her I thought how happy it weuld make me to help her along.” Mrs. Cobwigger—“That'’s just like you, my dear; you are kindness itself. But how do you intend to do it?” Mrs. Dorcas—*You know how interested I am in co-operative housekeeping? Well, heretofore it was all theory with me, but now I have a chance to put this noble work in practice. The poor thing fell right into my plans. You can’t imagine how grateful she fs.” Mrs. Cobwigger—“But how do you manage itr” Mrs. Dorcas—“Why, as I have the experi- ence, I do the marketing and cooking for both families.” Mrs. Cobwieger—“Is: of extra work for you? Mrs. Lorcas—“Of course, it is, my dear, but I am willing to be a martyr for the cause.”” Mrs. Cobwigger—“But your husband? I know how dreadfully opposed he ts to what he calls women's nonsense. How in world did y of thinking Mrs. Dorcas—‘That was the most difficult part of the whole affair. Oh, how he did stamp around and swear when I suggested Mrs. Cobwigger—“But what I wish to know {is how you converted such a bigot. Was it because you were of such practical help to the young couple upstairs?” Mrs. Dorcas—“Oh, no, my dear. He would not admit there was anything in the scheme until he saw for himself that by my plan of co-operaticn we got all our own meals with- out it costing us orfe cent.” "t that a dreadful lot = EXTEMPORANEOUS PROPOSAL. A Saving Effected by B: From Time-Honored Forma, "7 From the Chicago Daily ‘Tribune. Young Bellamus hitched forward in hig chair, pulled up his trousers a little at the knees, glanced at his cuffs to see that they Projected the proper distance beyond his coat sleeves, and nervously began: “I have something to say to you, Kate, I—don’t turn your face away from me please. You have not been eating onions, have you?” “Sir!” “Neither have I. Listen to me. something resting on my mind—" . Impos—" “Resting on my mind, I say, and i become a burden that I'am ing to shake off. Now, there isn’t any use in your pre- & you haven't an wan' to talk about.” Laie : “Assuming that I do, Mr. Bellamus—” “Well?” “het it Pass. Go on.” ‘That's right. You act like a good, sible girl in deciding to hear me. Fou ment as well, anyhow, because when I ge started I’m hard to stop, and I am going to say what I came here to say this evening if it takes all—if it takes a quarter of hour. That's the sort of desperate lover t { am, Kate Naggus, though I didn’t mean to give the whole business away in one breath like that. I intended to lead up to it gradu- ally. I don't suppose, however, the shock of surprise was very great. You had an idea something of the kit didn’t you?” = = ae, eres “I knew you did. But it doesn’t seem artistic to block out a regular form of doing something and then fly the track and jump across lots in order to get there sooner. What I intended to say was about like this; Ever since I have known you I have @ different fegling toward you from thal which I entertain toward other—but before I go any further I'd like to have some kind of hint as to whether I'm wasting my time or not. Somehow I don’t feel quite as con- fident as I did when I began.” He stopped a moment, took a long breath and inquired, uneasily: an it of any = Se me to go on, Kate?” 'e rosy lips of the fair youn; ir] rt and she sottly answered: 7 Sit} parted “That settles it,” rejoined Mr. Bellamus, recovering jimself and drawing on his gloves. “It hasn't turned out exactly as I hoped it might, but I've saved at least ten minutes of valuable time for each of and that makes twenty minutes. I don’t know what your time is worth, but my time, computed from a business point of view, is worth $2.50 an hour. will not de- tain you any longer, Miss Naggus. Good evening.” There ig a NOT FOR ‘CHICAGO. She Tried to Be a Gibson Girl, but Gave It Up. From the Chicago Times-Herald. Here is the interesting experience of a would-be Gibson girl of Chicago, who says: “What I have been trying to do lately is to mcdel myself on the lines of Gibson’s girls, and all I have learned is that pride goeth be- fore destruction. You know how those girls look—knees in, toes out, shoulders bac! arms limp, chin up, eyes on the firmament out of doors, or the chandelier if in the house. Well, I tried it. I got down stairs by counting the steps, boarded a car and never took my eyes off the ventilators in the roof; gave the conductor a dime rather than look at my pocketbook. “You don’t know how lofty and superior I felt. The throng in State street was dirt beneath my queenly feet that scorned to know what they were treading on. When I crossed Madison street I heard peop'e yelling around me, and in a moment a policeman had pulled me from under a grip car. I haven't tried it since, but have gone back to Chicago style, hurrying and dodging and getting strabismus trying to look six ways at once and wink a cinder out of my eye at the same time. Gibson's girls may do for the Acropolis at Athens, where the marble god run over them, but they won't do for Chica« 0.” oo ____ PERFUME PLANTS, How a Fakir Made Money Out of the Gullible. From the Chicago Tribune. “Speaking of street fakirs,” said the tall man of the party, “I used to know a fellow in Lawrence, Kan., who was the king of the crowd. He could make money out of any- thing. A block of common soap was worth many dollars to him as a grease eradica- tor or something of the kind, and for an outlay of a few cents he could turn pockets full of cash. One day this young fellow came to me amd asked me in a mysterious manner to go into a loft with him. I went, + and there found one of the most ingenious outfits I ever saw or heard of for ‘doing’ a gullible community. “This is what the outfit was: There were , 300 small cloth bags, each filled with wet bran. In each bag was planted a cucumber | seed. Under the warmth and dampness these ceeds would soon sprout, and then my young friend would take each bag and dip it into a tub filled with highly perfumed water. Then the small flat leaves which first sprout would be carefully taken off, | leaving the next leaves, which are rough and wrinkled and do not bear such stron; evidence of identity. Then the hund: bags with their sprouts would be put in bexes and carefully carried to some jay town, where my young friend would actual- ly get 50 cents apiece for them as perfume plants. The plan was worked by him suc- cessfully a number of times, and he always managed to get away without being in- jured. He was a fluent talker and always disposed of his perfume plants in an easy manner. Then, as persons who have been caught at any such sucker game do not care to squeal, his chances of detection were reduced to a minimum.” +e+—-—___ Laid Up for Another Day. From Pearson's Weekly. His mother—“What are you moping about the house for, Tommy? Why don’t you go over and play with Charley Pinafore?” Tommy— ‘Cause I played with Charley Pinafore yesterday, and I don’t s’pose he’g well enough yet. so It Depends From Life. “You say that horse isn’t afraid of any. thing. Can my wife drive him?” “I don't know, sir. I’ve never seen your wife.” From Punch. v e BAN wag Old Gent (pulling up, not fancying the timber)—‘Confound it all! Surely one of ‘em "ll manage to break the top rail.””