Evening Star Newspaper, November 23, 1895, Page 21

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1895—-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES, 21 PK wee There is a man in Washington who Is rich and yet unknown. The tax duplicates show very valuable property a3 belonging to him, but he transacts only such busiress as he is forced to do. A more miserable man cannot be found in Washington, and Lis money Is the sole cause of such state of affairs, During the boom he owned a farm in the Shenandoah valley. It was not considered very valuable, but a syndicate Wanted the land for a town site. He had been born and raised on the old place, no man was happier than he, and money was but little temptation. He had never owned much cash, and did not know what eguld be done with it if he kad it. ‘This ard not any prudential motives caused him to re- fuse very tempting offers. Members of the eyndicate did not understand that It was sentiment, not shrewdness, that prevented him from selling at the ‘first price they olfered, and they raised thelr bids several times, ‘Finally, the man’s wife prevailed upon him to sell at a figure that seemed ost fabulous, ani the family moved to Washington. Neither of them had ever been in society, and after a few awkward attempts to obtain recognition they gave it up, and now in a great, big house they fret and fume, ard quarrel as they never did before, while the capitalist drives aim- lessly about the city, bis heart bacic in the Shenandoah valley, where his farm is now @ town, od * * * * 2 It 1s sometimes very unpleasant and even dangerous to look like another person. A friend of mine, who is engaged in the prac- tice of law, told me of a singular instance where too strong a resemblance got a client in trouble. A young man was ar- rested, charged with burglary. He had been surprised while in the sleeping room of the head of the family, and had escaped by jumping through a window. He waa pursued, but got away. Two hours later, my friend's client, a stranger in the tewn, was arrested. The man and his wife, who saw him, positively Identified the young man, as did those who joined in the pur- suit, To his attorney he persisted in pro- testing his irnocence, but could not ac- count for himself at the time the offense was committed, except by saying he took a long walk to see the city. The attorney, who at first believed his client to be guilty, looked up his record and pecame convinced that the young man was innocent, but his conviction seemed a foregone conclusion. One day the lawyer met a man on the street whom he mistook for his client. “Why, how did you obtain bond?” he asked. “You are evidentiy taking me for seme one else,” was the answer. A bright idea struck the lawyer. The stranger looked as though he was in hard luck, and a proposition to sit in the ccurt room during the trial was accepted. The lawyer concealed the double until the case ‘was called, then he had the real prisoner e& behind him where he could not be the accused being small and my f quite large. The double was seated in the prisoners’ dock. Every witness identified the man most positively, and the prosecut- ing attorney looked fully satisfied until the supposed prisoner was placed upon the stand, and it was shown that he was not the defendant. Subsequently a convicted burglar made a confession, and among the crimes was the one with which my friend's client had been charged. a There was a pathetic Incident In Judge €ox's court that no one knew except the prisoner and his wife during the trial of Oscar Wanneck, the Frenchman convicted of obtaining money under false pretenses by seiling brick dust as a rat exterminator. Upon the second day of the trial, which lasted three days, the newspapers sald that the defendant seemed worried and nervous, but no one knew why. Just as the first wiiness for the defense was placed upon the stand a letter postmarked “Paris, France,” draped in mourning, was handed him. As he read it his head dropped upon his hands, and for a time he forgot that he was on trial and that his Nberty was in jeopardy. It tceok but a moment to read it, and that moment will never be forgotten His sister wrote the latter, not imaginin: that it would ever reach him under such) conditions, and it conveyed the sad news that his mother was dead, and asked him to return home at once that he might as- sist in arranging the affairs of the mother’s estate and help comfort his sorrowing sis- ter. That letter went with the convicted man to the penitentiary, resting against his heart. * ek Ok O* I saw an ineldent on a Belt line street car that would by itself make a good tem- perance lecture. A lady neatly attired and showirg unmistakable evidences of culture ard geod breeding sat in a corner. As we reeched a down-town street crossing a nan entered, so Intoxicated that he could scarcely stand, his clothes were dirty and marks of a recent fail were upon his coat. His eyes were bloodshot, his features swollen, giving him a beastly look. As he ertered the lady in the corner turned pale, then seeing that he would fall, arose, placed her arm around him and helped him to a seat beside her. Then he dropped his head upon her lap and fell Into a drunken sleep. It was evidently the lady's husband, and a hunted look came into her eyes, while her face grew white as a sheet. When the car reached the vicinity of their home she helped him off, literally lifting him from the platform to the ground, and as they disappeared, the other passengers watched them as far as they could be seen, but no one said a word, the suffering shown upon the wife’s face was too serl- ous to make the subject of ridicule. a Tt is the unwritten life historfes that are of the greatest human interest. I thought of that yesterday when I saw wagons be- longing to a furniture house that sells on the Installment plan, removing goods from isome house on Capitol Hill, I met whose failure this betokened,when shington, six months It ts a co day story. Two the oldest of a minister's large , tired of trying to make both ends mest on their her’s small salary, planned for many months how they could assist the folks at home, and take care of them- selves. Someone advised them to open a boarding house in Washington, and by go- ing without eve ig they possibly could pense h,even doing the washing them- 1 $100, It seemed ey counted out ver pieces. Then they and selected a house. nt and the first y first cam bills and the si this cit insta iture, the money was © ave them credit. How th trials U ani « A few were ol E night the two g 1.’ But some of rders the grocery bill dus, niture installa could not be inet, and yesterd: removed the goods, leaving the girls alone in a vacant hi ‘They left for their old home last n) red, discouraged and penniless. + * * 8 ® I met a man on the street yesterday who fs addicted to the suiclde habit, and whose name will undoubtedly appear in the papers tf he remains here long. The first time I ever sav a southern town, where he obtatr paper. A few di editor received a wonld ing cured. fcund the new repo Two doctors said hi ‘over, but he did, ang was sent to another town, where, at the expiration of a month, he again at- tempted suicide In the same way. Since that time I have heard of him occasionally, and up to date have clipped accounts of his suicide In six different states. He is now in Washington, and will probably have an at- tack of his singular habit while here. x Ok Kk kk A Washington inventor is working on a new trap that would seem to be a success. In places where there is an electric plant of any kind wires are run to different parts of the building. Bait 1s placed against them ard then power is turned on. If an animal or Insect touches one of these live wires it Is instantly killed. For buildings not supplied with electricity a small dynamo constitutes the trap. The inventor claims that the principle can be supplied at small expense for all kinds of traps, and that fur-bearing animals or game, whether small or large, can be killed without in any way injuring the fur or meat. x ek Ok kk A Washington lime dealer has discovered @ new rat exterminator. A few days ago he found several dead rodents around a pan of water that had been left near some unslaked Iime. He investigated by plac- ing cheese sprinkled liberally with the lime near the water. He was rewarded by find- ing some more dead rats. They had eaten the lime, which made them thirsty, and when they drank the water it slaked the lime and killed them. As he doesn’t care to go into the rat exterminator business he let the fact be known to his friends. * oe Oe OK The old story of changing envelopes by mistake was told in Washington a few days ago, only with variations. A young man, whose income is by ne means sutlicient to keep up his style of living, received a tall- cr’s bill. He is engaged to a young lady, who is the happy possessor of a comfort- able bank account. The young man’s tailor sent him a Dill, with the remark written of it that it was long past due. When he received the bill he was engaged in writing a rete to his fiancee, and in some way had his attention called away as scon as it was finished. He returned to his desk, placed the tatlor’s bill instead of the note in an envelope and directed it on his typewriter, which fact was all that saved him. When he called she was very indignant, but he was quick-witted and be- gan berating the tailor for sending her an account which he disputed in order to prejucice her against him, out of spite be- cause the young man would not pay an un- just claim. The next morning the lover told the tailor all about the aWair, paid the bill, and the maker of clothes helped him out by sending the gigl an apology, by which kindness he obtained an order for two suits of clothes, * Kk ek Ok A man who has just returned from Alas- ka gives ar account of a peculiar effect the atmosphere there has upon those who are not used to it. Whether it is the intense cold, the semi-darkness or the character of the fcod, or all combined, ts not know but Americans who go there are usually afflicted with a form of mania that causes them to imagine all of their companions to be enemies. ‘Chis is true especially about the Forty-mile creek district, and, accord- ing to this authority, the partnerships that usually exist in all mining camps are ve! rare there; ror does the good fellowship prevail that is found in the west. Two brothers, who had always been very close- ly attached to each other, staked a claim and went to work. Eve® night they dl- vided the result of the day’s labor, and for a few weeks everything was satisfactory, but they began to fear each other. Soon they occupied separate cabins, then partl- tioned the claim Letween them, and one night each started with the suspicion that the other was going to rob him, and met half way between the cabins. Two rifle shots, and both fell dead. There is less drinking and gambling than prevailed in the early days of Callfornia, but more mur- ders ere committed. x * ek OH One of the features cf Washington life is the number of people who are not proml- rent now, but who used to be. There Is searcely a boarding house where one or more of these “have-beens" cannot be found. And there is something very touch- ing to me about such people. For people to retire with the glory of well-earned hon- or is one thing—for them to once possess the plaudits of .he p2op!e and then be com- pelled to earn their living in menial post- tions, or to scrimp and save every nickel, is a very different thing. It is natural for aman to hope, and the attribute of hope- fulness gives more pleasure than any other can. To live without hope in the future, hanging to the shreds of memory, !3 worse than not to live at all. To say of a man that he used to have high position when he is now a nonentity is to intimate that his powers have failed, or that he was not de- serving of his fleeting honors. And yet I know many who are stronger and wiser new than they were when in official life who find it hard to earn a livelihood. There is something about the service of the gov- ernment that seems to unfit a man for any- thing else, and the “have-beens” of Wash- ington should combine to try to devise some plan by which retired officials couid be supported and the honors of the positions they have held perpetuated. So an ex- official suggested to me a few days ago, and I write it as he said it. x ok ke Ok There is a dignified gentleman well known in Washington whom no one would sus- pect of having any romance in his dispos tion. Always quiet, dignified and reserved, he looks as though anything beyond plain, matter-of-fact things would not be coun- tenanced by him. He has a wife, cold and stately, and daughters who are models of aristocratic young womanhood. He wears a watch chain upon which is a guard.a Ht- tle larger than would be expected to be worn bysone so refined and correct in mat- ters of dress. A few days ago he was on a shing trip with some friends, and in some way the watch chain caught upon a bush and was broken, the guard being thrown off and striking a rock on the river bank. It flew open and disciosed some faded rose leaves, evidently placed there many years ago. The owner hastened to secure hig treasure, which was picked up by one ot the party. As he took it, he looked closely to see that none of the leaves had fallen. closed the trinket tenderly, a flush passed over his face, and there was a perceptible tightening of his lips. That was all. He did not say a word, and his comnanions asked no questions. But in taose faded rose leaves is a story that is sacred to the man who has preserved them all these years. * ok Ok Ok Ok It is not often that an orthodox minister tells a ghost story, but in connection with a conversation concerning matters that cannot be understcod, a prominent divine told me one that he heard from a brother clergyman. At Havre de Grace lived a man who was captain of a ship. He had two children, whom he left with his brother when off on a voyage. The sea captain lost in a storm, and the brother claimed the property that the children sup- posed belonged to the father. The matter found its way into the courts, and a few nights before the day of trial the sheriff met what looked like the mi tain, who vanished as mysteriou iy as he came. The sl concluded to speak should the apparition appear again. The next night it came the offlcer accosted it, and the spirit told him that there was a box of papers hid under the roots of a cer- tain tree, the contents of which would es- tablish the rights of his children. The the matter to the judg de and the box r the property r father’s ghost is evi- he has never returned. istied, a: Good for children, Dr. Bull's Cough Syrup. BITS FROM THE BY-WAYS The Dawn of a Tragedian. He was “Little Willie” when he first en- tered on his career as an office boy, but it was not long before his uncertainties and general undesirability earned him the unan- imously adopted soubriquet of ‘Trolley Bill.” It was agreed that Trolley Bill would do something unexpected. Indeed, it was soon demonstrated that if he did anything at all it was unexpected. But in his own heart there were ambitions and plans of which the world did not dream until it was awakened by the news that Trolley Bill had made his dramatic debut. It was in “Virginius.’ “I didn’t get a chance to go down to the front and talk to the crowd,” he said in re- counting his triumphs, “but I'd just as soon have done it as not. You can’t scare me ‘with just a lot of people. Stage fright? Well, I tell you what frightened me. A lot o’ supers that was there for nothin’ but the 50 cents a night instead o’ bein’ students of art, like I was, was shakin’ clubs in a way that made me feel dizzy oncet or twice. When you get a lot o’ them rank amateurs around they oughtn’t to have a thing but gtuffed ciubs. The only one that needs a real one is the stage manager. Me ward- robe? Oh, yes; I had on salmon-pink tights —that is, I think they was salmon-pink, for, to tell the truth, them micks with the clubs had me so nervous that sometimes they looked salmon-pink an’ sometimes they look- ed sage-green. “It's unprofessional to look atyer tights any how—especially when they ain't tights at all, but looses. That's the worst way that pro- fessional jealousy shows itself. It don’t make no difference who it is that’s givin’ the show, they never let the supers have tights that fit’em. An’ the reason Is that the only Way you kin tell a real actor from a lath- carricr is that his legs don’t slop over at the knees. Did I get along good? Wasn't de stage managers t’rowin’ me bouquets? It was in de las’ act dat I won ‘im. They wasn't much time, an’ I knowed all de su- pers couldn't get dresse Dey was a wish- in’ fur de suits like dey was sumpin’ ter eat, but I says ter me pal, ‘Don’t hurry. We ain’t workin’ by de piece.’ So by de time we got a chance at de clothes, the stage manager he says, ‘Ye'’re ter late, boy cs thought we'd be,’ says I. “Den he looked me over, an’ he says,‘John- ny, ye've got ‘er future in this business, you have. Ye hates work jes’ like a reg’lar per- fessional.’ ” * « * A Belated Campaigner. He was sitting on the curbstone, a free and forcible temperance lecture to any who might pause to profit. The workmen had abandoned their endeavors to modern- ize the Metropolitan street railway, and dusk was drawing on. Now and anon he lifted his head feebly and murmured some- thing about “Zhe primroshe path o’ dal- liance’ and immediately subsided into slumber. It was an even chance whether he would land in the station house or the Emergency Hospital, depending on whether a policeman or a young doctor saw him first. The lanterns which mark the ob- structions at night had been hung in brill- iant array along the street, almost as far as the eye could reach. He raised his head, caught the glitter and in a voice a little better than a whisper said: - ““Rah, boys! "Rah! ‘Rah for Arthur Pue Lowndes. ‘Rah for Lloyd Gorman, ’Rah for ev'body!" “Look here, my friend,” sald a passer- if you are not careful you'll make a You'd better go home.” 'm goin’ home,” he said, “‘jes ez soon as thisher torchlight procession gets past. But you'd be'r not wait for me. It’s the biggest I ever saw, an’ it’s going tér be at leas’ four hours passin’ a given point.” * x * Different. ‘The man wasn't a millionaire, but he had some pretensions to refinement, and he liked music well enough to pay for a good seat at a notable operatic occasion. There were several box parties, and they labored, as sometimes happens, under the impression that the singers were merely there to fill in any gaps which might occur owing to a dearth of conversational topics. The blond young lady giggled oftener and harder than the prima donna trilled, and young men with foreheads preternaturally high or morbidly lew made facetious remarks about the cho- rus. The maa who had paid his money felt sorry for them a little of the time, and in- dignant a gocd deal of it. As he went out after the first act, driven to drink, perhaps, he said to the ticket taker: “Who are those people who ought to have been put out an hour ago?” “Them's about the richest people in town,” replied the official. ‘They're society folks an’ we have to let "em alone a good deal.” “But you wouldn't allow me to talk and disturb others in that way “No. But this is different. Ye see, tain’t the people talkin’. It’s their money talkin’.’ * * - Seven Cents, Within the contribution box She drops her offering small It isn’t very much, ‘tls true, But then, it is her all. She's bought a lovely cape; a hat ‘That's fashionably strange, And various other things, and now ‘The heathen gets the change. * ae A Tardy Enthusiasm. ‘A nice old gentleman is “Gran’ther” Dix. In his own way he has been a student, and he retained an interest in young people which was perhaps enhanced by the fact that he had very early been engrossed with the more serious cares of life, and had en- joyed himself but little. It was through his sympathy with youth that Tommy Dix, his grandson, was enabled to enter col- lege. don’t see as it’s any use,” said Rich- ard’s father. “I never went to college; and you never went to college. “Which don’t prove anything,” replied Richard’s grandfather. ‘‘Owin’ ter the fack thet we've both been a-burnin’ midnight fle an’ hustlin’ all our lives tryin’ ter ketch up on whut we missed by not a-havin’ no almer mater ter lean onter. Ef Richard wants ter go ter college, I've got a bit of money put by in the bank ez’ll see him through part way anyhow.” It was only natural that the old gentle- man should be greatly interested in his protege, and that he should embrace the earllest’ cpportunity to pay him a two weeks’ visit. When he returned to his home he was a different man. “Marthy Jane,” he sald to his daughter- in-law, “the world moves, an’ Tommy moves with it; but it seems ter me thet us folks is gettin’ so far back tn the percession thet fust thing we know we won't be able ter hear the band wagon.” “What on this rourd airth are you a-talk- in’ about?” she asked. “Never min’. Keep yer eye on me. I've ben a livin’ out’n the line o’ travel long enough. You old gran’ther's a-goin’ ter git a gait onto ‘im from this on. An’ I've brought the implements ter do it with.” ‘The next morning the family were indeed astonished. Summoned to the door they saw a bicycle speeding down the road. Gran’ther was on it. He had a wee capple with a peak to it and his pantaloons were rolled up to his knees. The insane ambition which the beginner has to run into some unoffending object was on him. He was chasing a pig with unwilling ardor. The piz turned from one side of the read to the ether, and so did Granjther. At last he over- took it and caremed’ lightly into the rail fence. “Hooray he said, as he trundled the wheel up the garden walk at a sharp trot. “Don’t nobedy try ter stop me, fur I’m Jes’ beginnin’ ter live. “Are you hurt? asked his dauzhter-In- law. “Hurt! Why, bless yer heart, I_hafter git off that way fur the present. Ef the pig hadn't of stopped me I'd a gone clean on ter Baltimore. “Do you m sald his son. “Am I goin’ ter ride a bicycle? What did ye call that whut I wus doin’; shearin’ sheep? I've lost enough time, I‘ hev, an? thet boy Tom hez jes’ saved my existense 2 bein’ a dreary monotony of three 1s a day an’ chores tell hedtime. I declare, I'm ashamed of you! med o’ me. By gum, I'm ashamed yself. But I'm a ketchin’ up. I've got by ¢ead half through, an’ I'm gittin’ on terms of personal intimacy with Napoleon. an to say you're going to ride } I'm gointer wear Sot ball hair an’ buy a bull pup. I’m gointer wear a chrysanthe- mum ez big ez a straw stack ef I xin find one, an’ I've already got so’s I kin smoke @ cigaroot. The nex’ time you write ter Tom you tell ’im ter go tight ahead with "is eddi- cation, an’ thet when he comes home his Gran'ther Dix ’ll beright next ter ’im at any pace he takes a notion ter travel.” * hat The Festi¥al of Pence. ‘The season sits with folded hands. The harvest bas been stored; ‘The honey-bee is hidden like a miser with his hoard; of’ ‘The rabbit halts beside his hole to watch the welkin gray, And Nature waits in gentle peace to greet Thanke- giving day. The film of silver frost which steals at morn across the bill To catch the sun's first greeting to the earth that sleeps so still Has touched the year to quiet, for its youth has passed away, And with ardors sweetly softened, ‘Thanksgiving day. it awaits On heediessly we wander through the springtime and the flowers, For youth was made for pleasure’ mid the blossoms and the bowers, "Tis when November comes, with only memories of May, ‘That lfe and love are ready for a true Thankegiv- i '. tess PHILANDER JOHNSON. A CLOSE CALL. Man Supposed to Be Murdered Re- turms and Prevents a Hanging. Ex-Sheriff Blakeslee of Comanche county, Neb., told a story of his experience tn office to a Star writer the other day. “T never hanged a man,” he said. “The vigilance committee usually settled hang- ing offenses outside of the courts, Then we were not fixed for taking care of many prisoners. When I was sheriff there were only three rooms to the jail, and all of them small. One I slept in, another I used for an office, and the other I kept my pris- oners in when I had any. “One time I received a man charged with murdering his partner. There was a little doubt about his guilt, so the vigilance com- mittee turned him over to me. The pris- oner and the murdered man had left to- gether, and somebody found the partner's body in the bushes. A few miles farther on they caught the prisoner, who had a gun and other property known to have belonged to the murdered man. It was a bad case, the body being so mutilated as io be al- most unrecognizable, but the prisoner said he was innocent, and I never had a more sociable fellow or better card player in the jail. He was the only one there, and after I got really acquainted with him, we would play old sledge until late at night, and then bunk together. “He was tried and convicted, but it made no difference with him. It was my first hanging, and we got the gallows built, the prisoner watching the work and making comments on it. The rope came and he saw it. ‘Bill,’ said he, ‘yo’ ain't no good as a sheriff. Don't yo’ know that ‘ere rope ought ter be soaked? I don’t want this af- fair of ours to go off any other way than smeoth. Yo’ go soak that rope.’ “So I soaked the rope, the prisoner help- ing me, and the night before the hanging we sat down to play old sledge. He said: “Bill, I ain't goin’ ‘to interfere none, an’ I don’t blame yo’, an’ no man kin say that I tried ter run or didn’ die game, but I want yo" ter promise me, if yo" ever meet that pardner of mihe, yo’ will shorely shoot ‘im fer gettin’ me hung. He's alive all right, and it’s shere mean fer 'im to va- moose an’ git me in frouble.* “E promised him, and we went on with the game. About 10 o'clock a man came to the window and shouted for me, then he tried the door of the office, and it wasn’t locked. He walked right In and said: ‘Hello, Jim!’ Hello, Bill’ It was the man we thought was murdered. Jim: stood up and said: ‘You're a purty pardner to leave me hyar to be hanged. They don't allow no shootin’ irons hyar, so we kain’t settle but one way. Shuck! ‘i “Then there was _the prettiest fight I ever saw, Jim pounding his partner until he called for quits, We all went to see the judge that night and he called off the hang- ing, knowing theyman who we thoukht had been murdered. Then the twe went away and we never saw them again, neither did we ever find out who the corpse was that we picked up in the bushes.” peace Ea WIRES WERE CROSSED. HIS How Mr. Boggs Misunderstood the In- quiring Policeman, Old Boggs is very deaf—so rauch so that he relies more on watching the speaker's lips in conversation than he does on his ears. He was on his way home one night not long ago while the wind was blowing very hard and a loosened sign cam? down and cut quite a gash in his forehead. The next morning he started to walk down town, his thoughts running on the wind of the night before and, presuming that most every one else was thinking and talking of the same subject. On an opposite corner he saw a policeman with whom he had a passing acquaintance, and he went over to speak to him. “His first salutation,” thought Boggs, “will naturally be: ‘Good morning;’ then he will say: ‘How is Mrs. Boggs? then probably speak of the wind storm. “Good morning, Mr. Boggs,” Officer. “Good morning,” responded Boggs. “How did the wind strike you?” asked the policeman. “Very well—quite well, thank you,” sald Mr. Boggs. “Wife well?” was the next query of the peace guardian, “I should remark!" exclaimed Boggs. “Just look at that!" and he removed his hat and exhibited his forehead, crossed with strips of sticking plaster. “Well, she musjgbe a la-la,” thought the policeman, as he ted down the sidewalk swinging his club. ¢ —>— A Novel Time Keeper. “See those two men up in the window, with thelr -vatches in their hands?" sata one gentleman to another Thursday noon, standing on the east side of 7th street, about midway of the square, and motion- ing over toward the Post Office Depart- ment. The cther said he could see them. “They are waiting for the ball to drop on the State, War and Navy building so they can set their watches. “But that building is about ten squares behind them—they have their faces turned this way,” replied the other. “They are watching those men’ on the corner of 7th and F, who are watching the ball. When the men on the corner all look down at thelr watches at once, those two will know that tke ball has just dropp2d, and they will both look at their watches.” They watched the two clerks for a few minutes, and when both looked Jown at thelr watches together one of the gentle- men looked at hig. watch A: “I told you so. — Not Enlightened. ‘Pupa, what do they mean by ‘preliminaries? * Papa—“Can’t you find anything better to do than reading about prize fi 2 sald the Here we are again!—Life, GOOD AND BAD SIGNS The Old Woman by the Damp Had Premo- nitions of Trouble. Warned by the Big Black Cat, and With a Brick. Charley was a colored boy, who, after being in my employ several months, suc- cumbed to temptation and absconded with several dollars. When applying for a po- sition he gave his address as “near de dump,” and when he eleped with the money with which he should have paid a bill I journeyed thither to make in- quiries in regard to his whereabouts. Leaving the car at the M street bridge, I walked along the Georgetowr side of Rock creek toward a group of shanties which stand near the “dump.” Several carts stood near it, and as their contents were emptied clouds of ashes arose in the air and avalanches of tin cans and broken bottles rolled to- ward the creek below. Twelve or fifteen colored people of both sexes and various ages: scrambled for such articles that fell from the carts and were valuable in their yes. None of the searchers after treasure could give me the desired information, and I went on to a frame shanty where an old negress was sitting in front of the door, enjoying the last rays of sunlight. “Evening, suh,” she said, as she arose to answer my salutation. A faded blue dress clothed her bent body and a red handker- chief partially concealed her gray head. Signs of Trouble. “Yes, suh, I knows Charley Johnson, but he ain’t been about heah lately. I'se afraid he's in some kind ‘er trouble. { tol’ Mrs. Johnson dat dere was a-gwine ter be trouble. Dere was signs of bad trouble.” ‘Can you tell what is going to happen by ee i asked, for she seemed disposed to es, Indeed, suh, dere !s meanin’ in signs,” she replied emphatically; ‘an’ you ‘an tell what's a-gwine to come by ‘em. lI'se an old woman, an’ I've seed a heap 0° ns. In de da; befoh de wah I was a slave an’ I lived down in Virginny wish dem days wuz back agin. § all my troubles come aftah de wa! “But how about the signs, aunty?" “Yes, dere is so00d signs and bad signs and some dat ain’t neither—like when you hears trains a-comin’ over Long bridge, an’ you knows dere’s a-gwine to be a rain. Many a time when I’se duwn by de crick Pickin’ over de dump I hears de trains a- comin’ over de bridge an’ every time de rain comes just as sure. “About de bad signs? De las’ time I had de bad signs wuz When my boy Henry wuz Killed. Scems like I'se had wus trouble since dat dan any time befo’, an’ in de winter I have a ha’d time when I goes down to pick over de dump. He was a good boy to me, an’ he’ped me a z heap, but he’s gone, an’ Ise all by myse’f now. De night befo’ Henry nearly got drown’ I seed a black man runnin’ through de graveyard. It was dark, an’ de wind made a rustly noise in de trees, and de «ravestones looked awful white, an’ down Where it was dark where de vines grows a big, black man was a-runnin’ over de graves. He never made nary sound, but jus’ run along like somethin’ was chasin’ him. “When I got heme I tol’ Henry, but he lavghed an’ said it didn't mean nothin’. I berged him to take keer an’ not get in any trouble, kase dat black man was a sign o° trouble. De nex’ day Henry went across de bridge, an’ in de afternoon dere was trouble, an’ de police was chasin’ a lot of men dat had a n’ Henry run pmen began to s ran right into de crick an’ tried to swim across. He got de cramp when he was a-comin’ across, and when dey got him out he was nearly daid. Den dey took him to jail. “After he got outen jail sumthin’ come aroun’ de dump at night an’ made skeery noises. Some people said it was a cat, but I knowed it wasn’t, an’ dey knows it now, too. One time I had to go out after dark an’ TI was awful ‘fraid. Just as I got down by de dump dere was a noise dat made me sRiver like I had de misery. It seemed to 20 right through me. [t come from de dump, an’ I didn’t want to look at it, but it seemed like I jus’ Dere was a great big black cat with blaz- in’ eyes an’ he was lookin’ at me solemn like. I couldn’t take my eyes offen him, an’ while I looked he opened his mouth an’ howled agin. Den 1 ran. “It lcoked like a cal, but it wasn’t any natural cat. Henry: came home late dat night, an’ he had been drinkin’. When I got ter sleep I dreamt about daid people an’ den I woke up skeared all over, Dere was an awful racket on top of de house an’ dere was howling’ an’ screamin’. I laid dere an’ listened an’ rubbed de charms dat Ing roun’ my neck to keep off de bad spirit. Henry was sleepin’ an’ it was dark, an’ de thing on de roof kep’ on making awful sounds. I knew dere was a-gwine ter be awful bad luck an’ couldn't sleep any iore dat night—not after de evil thing w gone away, an’ in de mornin’ I tol’ Henry about it, but he was ugly an’ sald dere wasn't anything in de worl’ dat couid hurt him. I tried to get him to stay in de house, but he went away as soon as he had somethin’ to eat. He was gone till af- ternoon an’ I was awful glad when I seed him comin’ back, past de dump. Dat was de bad luck place for him, an’ if he got past dere an’ come home I thought he would be safe. At the Dump. “Dere was some men with him, an’ when dey got to de dump dey stopped an’ talked an’ den dere was a quarrel and dey begun hittin’ each other. Henry was fightin’ with one of ‘em an’ some one of ‘em caught him an’ started to lead him away. Dere a man on each side of him a holdin’ rms so he couldn't go back an’ fight. While dey was takin’ him away de other man run up behind him with a brick an’ lifted it up with both hands an’ brought it non Henry's haid. My doy fell down ig does when you hit it with an Dey brought him to de house an’ he h his haid on my lap, with his blood runnin’ on my dres: fter a while we put him on a bed an’ $ sittin’ around still and eryin’. De door open "cause de weather was warm. While we sat d a big black cat come so soft en’ still an’ sat on de door step an’ locked at de bed where Henry was. Den he hollered once an’ went away.” — J.T.W. a Going Around Loose. Frem the New York . The first time I went shopping with my wife—" he began. “Tho first time!” exclaimed the company in on2 voice. “Yes, the first time.’ Then you went the second time?” they thle ly asked. Why, certainly, and the third and fourth and—"" hen the company returnel to the room, fter pitching him out, the chairman re- a He shouldn't be allowed to go around loose, but it is the duty of his friends to see to that, not ours. Besides, it costs money, I suppose, to keep a man in an asylum.” e+. Worse Than Disease. From Life. Cawker—“I sat up with a sick friend last night.” Cumso—"What alled hime Cawker—“He lost $03.” had to. FOR WEDDING GIFTS. Solitaire Knives and Forks Are the Latest Fads. The difficulty of selecting a wedding pres- ent that shall be unique and yet not too ex- pensive for the light purse is one that very cften troubles tasteful, generous friends. But this winter “solitaire” knives and forks are te be favorite wedding gifts, and, as anything quaint in this form is considered desirable, there will be charming scope for individual fancy and moderate means, This is a revival of an antique fashion, which dates far back in the sixteenth cen- tury, when forks were considered rather a superfluous luxury and possessed only by the excessively fastidious. They were never provided then by sets or dozens; a fork was 4 strictly personal utensil, and guests brought their own when they responded to a dinner invitation. A case for holding knife and fork was therefore usually sold with them, and upon this as much skill was ex- Pended as upon the contents. A very an- efent one, recently exhibited, might have been mistaken for a modern spectacle case. It was of sharkskin, gold mounted. The knife and fork it contained had handles of gold, with Ivy vines in green enamel twining round them, and there were two little figures in white enamel sitting under a shell-like canopy on the end. ‘The workmanship displayed on some of the old forks and knives is exquisite, and there is an effort now setting in to make these little implements more interesting than they have been of late years. The prevailing mother-of-pearl knife handles are dainty, but conventional and ordinary. A few pretty varieties of Dresden china are seen, and the artistic bronze dagger handles of Japan, inlaid with silver and gold, have cceasionally been utilized for household service, but aside from these the handles of knives have teen stupidly monotonous. Now, not only are beauty and variety of design to have consideration, but the ex- cellence of grip which we look for in a knife handle is to have especial attention, and the shape of the blade is to be improved. A knife, to be useful for the minfature carving on our plates, ought to be sharp at the point, whereas the manufacturers still continue to round the blades at the top, as in the days of Queen Anne, when etiquette permitted eating with the knife. The bridesmaids that are to officiate at one of the distinguished marriages soon to be celebrated in New York have each order- ed:a knife and fork as a bridal gift, and much rivalry has entered into the search for antiquity and grace of embellishment. In one case the handles are Venetian, elev- enth century style, ivery and gold set with turquoise; in another they are of amber, ex- quisitely carved, and the fork is shaped as all forks were until the eighteenth century— like a long tuning fork. A set of genuine antiques are charming ivory carvings, show- ing groups of pretty allegorical creatures of the Cupid — famil Large, spreading branches of pink coral, mounted in gold. give @ rosy touch of color to the collection, al- though the most attractive of ail, perhaps, is a design executed in gold—a plump little Bacchus bestriding a barrel and holding a cup and grapes, the fruit and leaves enam- eled in color: Apparently, the mania for collecting curi- ous knives and forks is likely to outdo the souvenir spoon cyclone which swept over us with such resistless fury a few years ago. ——— STYLISH FOOTGEAR. What Fashion Dictates is the Proper Thing in Slippers. The girl that has the best time at a dance ts the one that looks fresh, bright and happy. She may not be pretty, she may not be clever, but she wiil have nu- merous partners and a thoroughly good time. Therefore, it behooves every girl not to look tired, and to guard against this she must have comfortable shoes. A shoe that pinches in the least is bound to stamp upon a girl’s features a facged ex- pression before the evening 1s half over. Yet, a shoe may not pinch and still be very fatiguing. A slipper especially may slip up and down at the heel if too large and cause almost as much discomfort as a cramped feeling. Consequently, the girl that wishes success in the ball room should look weil to the comfort of her shoes. My lady's slippers for the coming winter are very delicate and elaborate; even the “mules” are in light colors, and sometimes exquisitely embroidered. For instance,there is a pair of pale lavender satin, the toe covered with a fine network of pearls, with one large pearl standing out prominently in the center, like the pearl in a finger ring. Old pink shades of satin are traced with ruby beads, and all the fascinating iridescent combinations of the fashionable passementeries are seen on the toes of slippers, which are now selected to cor- respond with the trimming of the gown rather than with the gown itself. For a toilet slipper, plain red kid ts in favor, the warmth of the color giving a cozy impression. Merely by looking at them we fancy the little pointed toes res’ ing on the fender “after the ball is over, while the firelight flickers over a soft,warm dressing gown, with lace lying caressingly about a white neck. House slippers for ordinary use are in three favorite designs: Fine black kid closely embroidered with very small jet beads; patent leather, with a large, broad rhinestone buckle, resembling those from heirlcom knee breeches, placed quite high on the instep; and patent leather, tied with a bow to match the gown or the ribbon on the gown—for this is to be a ribbon winter. These are very popular, for one has only to tie in a fresh bow to have, vir- tually, a new pair of slippers. The bow should be as large as the foot can reason- ably accommodate, ree THEY WERE SUSPICIOUS. How Indians From the West Were Mystified by the Telephone. Major Pollock, who was superintendent of free delivery in the Post Office Department under the last administration, was for some time stationed on the frontier as an In- dian agent, and was well and favorably kuown to many of the principal chiefs among the red men. Whenever they sent delegations to Washington to have a pow- wow with the Great Father, the major's office was sure to be visited by them, and (hey came sometimes in crowds. = On one occasion, while the Indians were making a call on the major, he went to the ielepaone, im another room, and called up the Indian once. When his call was an- Swered, he said: Teli Kraus to come to the ‘phone.” Frank was a half-breed, employed in the indian oltice. “iello! rank,” said the major, “Hold the ‘phone a minuce. Your uncle is here and wanis to talk with you.” ‘Then he went iio his office and led one of Uie chiefs Lo tne telephone. “Want to talk to Prank?" said the major, placing the iransmiiter im the enief’s nand: Alter many grunts and suspicious glances at ihe mysterious contrivance, the little ear trumpet was lnaily eid to tae chiel’s ear, and te major sad: “Now, go ahead, Frank.” A grim spreau over the Indian's face, and he uroppea the Wansmuiter. After trying in in tv Jouk behind tie instrument, he stuck his head out of tne window and lovked around, Taen with a bewildered look he ran wo the dor and looked up and down the corridor. ‘Lhe major explained to him that Frank was up (own in another building, but the chief wasn’t convinced, and called another Indian, While the second Indian was lis- tening, the first chief watched the major’s lips ciosely, evidenUy suspecting some trick ot ventriloquism, united the second chief, as he transmitter, and looked under and out of a window. ‘The major couldn't sausfactorily explain the matter to the cmets, and tinally was forced to put on his hat and take them over to the Inaian office, where they found Pranic at the ‘phone, waitchg for more “wik.’ se EXPENSIVE N. Tr. A Mouse Appropriates a Small For- tune for Her Home. Among the bills recently presented for re- demption at the United States treasury were ten of $100 denomination, one of $500, one of $1,000, and five of $50, They were nibbled around the edges, but enough re- mained to render them good. This $2,750 constituted a mouse’s nest. The bills had been laid away in a trunk and when the owner went to look for ee they were gone. Search was instituted, bu! no trace of them could be found. Finally a mouse’s hole was noticed through the bottom of the trunk, leading under the floor. The boards were taken up and a mouse scampered away, leaving five little pink end white créatures too young to walk lying en the pile of greenbacks. STORY ABOUT HERBERT A Point Made in His Behalfinan Alabama Campaign. Representative St ngs Gave an expected Turm to His Speech and 4 Used a Practical Mlustration. “Ever hear about Herbert's last congres- sional campaign in Alabama?” asked an Alabama black belt politician of a Star re- porter the other day. “Secretary Herbert. You know him. I guess. Has charge of all the boats belong- ing to the government. Lives here now. I'm goin’ up to see him tomorrow. Him and Jess Stallin's—you know Jess?—he suc- ceeded Herbert—was goin’ over his district and stumpin’ much. Jess was solicitor then, and powerful popular with the people, the country folks in particular. Jess, by the way, is the Bill Nye of Alabama poll- ties. “They were down near the Florida line, somewhere below Mobile, and right amongst Jess’ neighbors. They had filled their appointment for that day, and after dinner set out for the next place in a buggy with two mules hitched to it; but they hadn't gone more’n four or five of the fif- teen miles when the mules got skeered of a movin’ gopher on the side of the road, and there was trouble. A gopher, you know, is a great big sort of a land turtle, and a lazy cuss in his movements. “Well, at the first jump of the mules Jess went out of the buggy backwards, and yell- in’ to Herbert to hold onto the lines. Her- bert was doin’ the best he could, when all at wunst the mules ran one side of the buggy over the end of a log, and Herbert was emptied out on the other. He fell tin’ down, and the frightened mules didn’t give him time to get up. But he swung on to the lines, and, man, sir, them mules dragged him over the face of the earth for about sixty acres on the basement of his Pants, sometimes in Alabama and some- times in Florida, and when the team was finally stopped it was found that Herbert had scattered a large section of his britches in shreds, and much of his hide, all over the southwest corner of his district. “Oue of the mules got away, and, hangin’ one of the buggy wheels on the limb of a tree and leavin’ the rest of the vehicle in two states, Herbert and Jess tried to ride the other mule the rest of the way; but he refused to tote double, and, leavin’ both of "em in the sand, he went across the coun- try after his runnin’ mate. “Well, Herbert and Stallin’s finally reached a house within easy reach of next day’s appointment, and put up for the night, Herbert all the time keerfully keep- in’ his back away from the various mem- bers of the family until bedtime, when Her- bert, too mortified to do so himself, asked Jess if he wouldn't try and get a yard or so of cloth from the nost to patch his—Her- bert's—britches. “There wusn’t but one plece of cloth on the premises, and that was a square of punkin yaller calico; but it was a ground hog case, and Herbert had to have it. So, when they went to their room, Jess sat up and talked while Herbert reseated his trousers. ‘Next day the campaigners filled their ap- pointment, Herbert speaking first. The couniry people were a little sore on their Congressman, as Stallin’s knew, but Her- bert didn’t, because they had heard of high living in Washington, silk hats, carriage rides, receptions, and one thing and an- other like that, and when Stallin's was about windin’ up his speech he referred to this objection of Herbert's constituents that he was putting on too much style and get- ting too rich to rightly care for them and their interests. “The speakers were performin’ on a plat- form above their audience, in which there was a good sprinklin’ of wimin folks, Col. Herbert settin’ down and Jess layin’ it off for all he was worth. “*Ladies and gentlemen, and friends and fellow citizens,’ Stallin’s says, ‘I come now to a matter personal to our distinguished representative. Some of you have doubt- iess heard it said that he had been puttting on & good deal of style in Washington, and that this was evidence that he had grown above his people. But, my friends, you must remember that he is your representa- tive, a Congressman from Alabama, and his position, if he would represent you cred- itably, requires all these outlays you may have heard about. And as to his growing vich, why, it takes all of his salary to fitly represent you. I know myself that he is a poor man, ani I will demonstrate it right here on this platform. Col. Herbert, please step this way.’ “Herbert approached,, thinking Stallin'’s was goin’ to ask him about how expensive it was for a Congressman to Hve in Wash- ington. But instead, Jess went on, while Herbert had his back to the audience, the impediment in his britches being concealed by his frock-tail coat. ‘I propose to show you, fellow citizens, that Col. Herbert is a Poor man." “With that Jess stooped a little, and reaching around Herbert pulled up the talls of his coat gently, between the tips of his first finger and thumb, as If he was tender- ly unveilin’ a statue, and there stood out that great yailer patch, ke a full moon whe. just risin’ in the fall; Jess talkin’ all the time. ““He not only is not rich, ladies and gentlemen, but he is actually 60 poor he has to wear patched britches; and not only that, he had to patch these himself, for 1 saw him do it.” Then Jess let the curtain down on that patch, while the audience howled. Col. Herbert's face glowed like a boiled beet. It was so red that it actually tinged the eastern horizon like early sun- rise, and the veins in his neck swelled with the mortification of the unexpected expos- ure. But Jess had won the day for him. “No, Herbert didn’t come back with Jess. He hunted the nearest railroad station and took the first train for home. I don’t know whether he speaks to Stallin’s yet or -not. I'll ask him about it when I see him te morro ——_ BAREFOOTED WEDDINGS. Guests With Shoes on to Be Promptly Shot. It ts not far from Washington to the mountains where people live in the most primitive style. J. C. Moffett, the well- known correspondent, went into McDow- ell county, W. Va., on a professional trip, and among the stories he did not write, but reserved for private friends, is one too gcod to keep out of print. He stopped at a log cabin and was soon on good terms with his host, who after supper sald: “Stranger, I reckon yo’ won’t hev a good time tonight. “What is up?’ queried the newspaper man. “Goin’ ter be a weddin’. Reckon yo’ kin go with me an’ the ole ‘ooman. The invitation was accepted and the three started for a five-mile walk over the mcuntain. When they rea@hed the cabin that was the center of festivities, a crack- ed fidcle could be heard, and several men hhurg around the doors and windows, for nove but the dancers could be admitted In- side. They were met by a rough mountaineer, to whom the newspaper man’s presence was explained. Thit's all right,” sald the newcomer, “but thar’s one thing. Yo’ see the bride an’ groom air po’, very po’, an’ they never wore no shoes befo’ Christmas in thar lives an’ hain’t <ot none now, so them as had shoes didn’t wear ’em. Jim, the grocm, is sorter sensitive like, an’ high- strung, so ef yo’ go with them shoes on he might take it as a reflection on him an’ the bride an’ go to shootin’. The shoes were taken off and ten min- utes later the correspondent and his host dancing with the mountain belles, onally having to stop to pick splint- t of their feet. The chair of foot ball in the modern ‘var sity.—Life. 7”