Evening Star Newspaper, January 4, 1896, Page 17

; “THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 4, 1895-TWENTY-FOUR. PAGES. 17 I was attracted by a little newsboy. It Wes evident that he had not been selling papers very long, for he did not mingle ‘with the other boys, and the childish voice ‘was very weak as he cried his wares. His clothes were neat, but very old and care- fully patched. Around his neck was a elesn collar and a home-made necktie that had once been a piece of a black alpaca dress. Everything about him betekened that a loving mother’s hand had tried to make her boy appear like a little gentle- man ss he went out to sell his papers. I talked with the young news fnerchant, and found that he lived with his mother, and she is a crippled widow, with none but him to rely upon. For four years of the eleven that had been thus far allotted him by} Father Time the little fellow had struggled mia: fully to bear the burdens fate had de- creed should be his, and he proudly de? clared that “it was not often they went hungry, and then only for a few days, when rent fell due.” He had only been selling papers for a week, but earned $3, almost a dollar of which they had saved toward the rent. And as I left him, the Mnes of care end thought already drawn about the face that had not yet lost the innocencé of babyhood, and the picture of ~ ertppled mother proud of her boy, and suffering that he must, thus early in the morning of life, do the work that belongs to its mid-day hours, the penury of living on $2 a week, and yet the happiness of “saving a few cents, made me look in a mew way upon the little fellows who, run- ming around corners, darting into street cars and dodging between passers-by upon the streets, try to keep the public informed and themselves from starving. + #4 * © I was talking to a physician about the sufferings of the poor during the winter, and he gave me some ideas that I never heard before im so forcible a way. “Yes,” said he, “the winter is a season when it seems almost criminal to enjoy warm fires, good food and proper clothing unless we contribute toward the relief of those who have none of these. But it is not the des- titute who have been reared in squalor, who, generation after generation, have become irured to privation, who suffer the most or who die from exposure. A phy- sictar ts frequently called to houses in the better parts of the city, houses that look luke the abodes of people in easy circum- stances, where the only proper prescrip- tion is more and better food, and this they cannot obtain. Always used to comfort- able surroundings, their pride a part of their very nature, they suffer in silence, and then when they break down com- pletely a physician is called, and he leaves @ prescription and directions as to diet, knowing that the latter cannot be carried out, and without it drugs are of no avail. ‘These ere the people who have always en- joyed good incomes and lived up to them until they. are suddenly stopped. For a few months, or until their credit is ex- hausted, they do net suffer, but when the grocer will trust them no lenger they smile to their friends as before, no one ever knows, but they starve to death, and the diszazse is called by other names. I don’t know that Washington has more of this less than can be found in other cities, but probably so, as changes in the departments would explain: it. At all events I have written other causes upon death certifl- cates many a time when starvation was the real trouble. The money friends ex- pend im flowers for their funerals would have saved their lives.” ee RK OK “I was greatly interested in the finding of three of the largest nuggets ever discov- ered,” said a well-known mining expert to me. “It seems strange that the Appa- lachian field is not worked more than it is. ‘The largest nugget ever found in the world was in Cabanus county, North Carolina. The dispatches stated that gold was found in several counties. I should think so. There are continuous veins from Virginia to Ala- bama. That field is about 700 miles long and 100 miles wide, and, adopting the new methods that have made Cripple Creek a success, there is scarcely a hill that will not pay to work. I have been over it thorough- ly. If the largest nuggets in the world were found in any western state, thousands of people would flock there, and the veins from which those nuggets were broken would be found if it cost hundreds of thousands of dollars prospecting. Everybody knows that there is gold in Virginia, North Caro- lina, South Carolina, Georgia and Alabama; everybody has heard that the mines have been worked out, as they were under the old-time primitive processes, and beyond that no ote 3eems to care to investigate.” * x eK O& A friend of mine attended President Cleve- land’s publie reception New Year day, which revived recollections probably shared by the chief executive of the land and Mrs. Cleve- land. “It is the first time I have seen them since I lost them down at Chattanooga,” said he to me. “It was during President Cleveland’s first term. He and Mrs. Cleve- land took a somewhat extended tour of the ecuntry, and among other cities visited was Chattanooga, where I lived at that time> It was a great day for the historic town, and I was glad to be appointed a member of the reception committse. We worked hard, had the fin vehicle in the city ready, upholstered in red plush; decorated the court house, where the President was to de- liver a brief speech,and trimmed many yards of bunting over the buildings. Then we went to the depot. As the train pulled in, a sudden rain storm came also. It seemed as if all the water in the clouds was pouring down at once. The President was brave enough to start for the court house never- theless, but he never reached it. The rain penetrated through the roof of his carriage and compelled his return to the depot. The carriages containing the members of the re- ception committee, including Col. Dickin- son, who had an elegant album and a beau- ful speech to deliver to Mrs. Cleveland, went on to the court house, having lost the President. By the time they reached the depot the presidential party had started for Atlanta. The next train carrfed some of the reception committee, who went to Atlanta and presented the Chattanooga souvenir, but I don’t think Mrs. Cleveland needed any reminder to keep the town in her memory. We discovered that the rain’had washed the «color out 6f the new red plush in the car- riage, and the dye looked like a pool of blood on the floor of the vehicle. Mrs. Cleveland's dress was dyed an artistic red. The album Was a souvenir of the mineral and timber wealth of that section, and the dress was a fit souvenir of the bloody battles that had been fought there.” eK £ KK “I don’t know what to think about the disease of kleptomania,” said a detective to me the other day. “I have just returned from Iowa, where I testified in a case that resulted in a man being sent for Tis fourth term in the penitentiary. Z went to school with him, and he was the most gentlemanly boy I ever e@aw. His father was a dentist In good practice, his home a happy one, and he was supplied with all the spending money he seem-d to want, and yet he would steal anything he could carry, giving the article eway to the first boy he saw who wanted it. As he grew up the mania developed “nd nothing was safe in the neighborhood where he lived, and still his manners were #0 suave, courteous and pleasant that peo- ple liked him in spite of his being a known thief. He was the embodiment of generos- ity, and would give stolen goods away to any one who needed them. This is his fourth term in the penitentiary, and when ‘he gets cut he will steal the first thing he sees that is portable. I have never been able to explain it.” ke. There is an echo of Christmas in a story Wid the other day. A young wife was anx- fous to present her husband with some books. She was puzzled to know what to select, and after visiting the book- stores concluded that she would let some one else do the choosing, so she ordered two nicely bound books of their own selection to cost a certain sum, inclosing it, and sent to a leading publisher. The books came prompt- ly and were placed on top of the husband’s plate Christmas morning, together with other presents. The donor had not opened the package to see what they were. When the bex was removed, inside were found twe elegantly hound volumes, one of “Rob- imson Crusoe,” the other of “Mother Goose's Melodies.” She had forgotten to explain who they were for. And now the husband irsists upon having revenge by reading them aloud to her. ee A shoemaker on 7th street has a sign out that he makes “one-legged feet ta order.” In the Senate a few days ago Senator Hill made the remark, in discussing a pending matter, that it was “opportune at this time.” Of course the Senator knows better than that. but when he Is interested in a | v-atter and gets speedy in the use of words he forgets his study of English. Every day some person advertises that a ‘‘widow wo- man” will do so and so. If a reporter for a daily were to write that his city editor would likely ask him if a widow could pos- sibly be anything else than a woman. Good English is murdered in the. House and Sen- ate with as much impunity as on the signs of merchants. A man.at the House a few days ago, talking about the disrespect of Congressmen for the mother tongue, said that there ought to be a law for a civil service examination of candidates for Con- gress the same as for other applicants for office. we Rk Wonder is expressed by hundreds of vis- iters to Washington over the scarcity of mules. A visitor can walk the streets for days at a time and never see one of these long-eared quadrupeds. The well-paved streets of this city make heavy hauling easy and a horse can pull as much as a mule. Then, muies are heavier eaters than horses and more costly to keep. ee ROK * There is in the city a certain young at- tache to one cf the legations who has com- municated to the world his resolve to eschew its pleasures for the present. This determi- nation ts by no means dive to the fact of a cold shoulder being turned toward him by the fashionables, but on account of the nu- merous conversational slips that he is con- scious of making. Telling of a certain ‘c- casion where he “put in ze foot” more than usual, he says: “I talk to ze ladees and smile and be agreeable and all at once zey grow quiet and look at me so var’ queer. I exclatm, ‘What haf I done” and ze ladees zey make answer, ‘It is not what you haf done, monsieur, but what you haf said.” And zen I feel so decayed, oh, so decayed.” His confidant here reminded him that he had made another faux pas and proceeded to explain to him the different applications of the synonyms, decayed and mortified, end the despairing foreigner replied: “Hat I not told you, I spik bad all ze tim $F ae A combination of Christmas joys and Svengaliism ‘seems a rather incongruous as- sociation, but I'saw a street scene last week in which they doth played an active part. The dramatis personae were two little street urchins and a Christmas horn. When dis- covered by the audience of one of the hap- by possessor of the horn had his musical in- strument in position for the torture of the neighborhood, while directly in front of him stood his companion waving his arms about j in the spider-like manner accredited to the | demon of medern literature. As he ap- | Proached nearer and nearer his victim, the musician trembled and drew away from im, saying all the while, in @ most piteous manner, “Oh, Svengall, don’t make me, don’t make me.” But Svengali must have persisted, for the last I saw of the pair, Svengali had possess- ed himself of the horn and was blowing thereon a blast of triumph, while his erst- While victim was doing a breakdown to the strain. ke ¥ t € Managing mammes would-do well to call into requisition the latest factor in the mat- timonial market, which is the toasting fork. A well-known resident of Washington whose daughters have gore off Itke “hot cakes,” cr rather, fn this case, like “hot toast,” says she ascribes all her success in marrying them off to her skt!l with the toaster. It was an understood thing in the house- hold that the suitors and prospective bride- grooms shold always stay to Sunday even- ing tea, at which the piece de resistance was the famous toast. In order that the renown of the viand should never fall short of the mark it was the custom of madam to de- end in person to the culinary department and personally superintend its preparation, frequently returning to her guests with flushed cheeks, indicating that she had done More than merely superintend. Virtue as usual brought its own reward, and now the fond mamma and indulgent mother-in-law has the unusual pleastfre of keeping her daughters with her after marriage, for all the new sons of the family declare that they will live nowhere else than with the toast- maker, and the whole family dwells to- gether in amity, knit together by such a simple article as a piece of toasted bread. * (lida ae ee ee Se * * *. One of the principal pastimes since Christ- mas morning brought its store of gifts to every household has been to decide what some of the articles were designed for; in- deed, some men are curious enough regard- ing their possessions to carry them around with them and stump the unwary by pro- pounding the conundrum, “What is this for?” A few evenings since in a social gathering the question was put and guesses concern- ing the specified article were wild and wide cf the mark. One person suggested a letter file, another a nutpick, while the furthest afield said it might be a sort of idealized bootjack. When the solution of the riddle was announced, “a pen extractor,” there were still some dubious shakes of the heads as to the efficacy of such a complicated machine for so small a process. The “ma- chine” consists of a clamp and lever some- thing on the order of a man’s necktie holder, but about an inch and a half long, to whicn is attached a hook, making the e.itire article four inches in length. The pen is inserted between the jaws of the clamp, which hold it closely, while the forefinger encircles the hook, and, presto! the pen is out. Some People, however, still find their teeth very effective for this purpose, but the pen ex- tractor has been hailed as a boon by the girl with a “best young man.” kk KOK A lady went into an up-town grocery in quest of some extra delicacies for a stag supper her husband had on hand, and asked the clerk if he knew of anything very good and new that she might surprise the palates with. After suggesting a number of things which he thought suitable, and learning that she had them all, even to the requisite brands of wines, in despair he gave up and eaid: “I don’t know of anything else you can possibly provide unless you lay in-a stock of bromo-seltzer.”” —_———. “Behind the Scenes.” From Punch. “Breach of prom: ill run- Second Judge—“Going wonderfully. standing room. What are you doing?” First Judge—“A building contract. Wretch- ed business; not a soul in the place!” No SEEN AT THE CAPITOL The “whispering” echoes in Statuary Hall at the Capitol are a source of endless amuse- ment to old frequenters of the place. A Star reporter was over near the big column in the corner where the man with the Con- gressional Record holds forth, Tuesday, and @ party of tourists were trying the various stores. Att the column mentioned stood a young man, and at the column on the other side of the hall stood the young man’s sweet- heart, evidently, though the conversation over this queer telephone of stones arches and masonry is quite as disconnected as over one of wood and wires. This is the way the young man talked, howevér: “Say, Lil, is the old man out’of hearing?” “Yes” “All right. Say, let's cut the whole busi- ness and get married. I’m tired of hanging "round a girl that I can’t get close enough to squeeze her hand.” “What's that? ‘ou love me all the same?” “Lil, you're a brick. I say, is the old man ‘still oblivious?” “Is? Then take this,” and over the arches or under them, however the sound may travel, there went a rousing smack that would have blistered the lips of the lady, had she got it in the regulation manner. LOK KR OR Ok Very early in each session of Congress it develcps that what every common school needs is a teacher in elocution. It is one of the mysteries past finding out why some men will punish the circumambient air by loading it with inarticulate sounds that are worse than meaningless, except to those who sit close about them, and only make laughter for those in the galleries, who can see the wild gesticulations, the impassioned shaking of the heads, the pcunding of desks, but dis- tinguish no accompanying words. It is a queer pantomime, and not much relished. There ought to be something in the rules that will prevent a man ranting for an hour only to oblige one to read the Recard to see whether it was a diatribe on free silver or a monologue on the Monroe doctrine that was disturbing his peace of mind. Orators are born, not made, but there is nothing in the Constitution that prevents any man from training his voice to proper pitch and modu! tion. One can have too much voice as well Qs too little. Mr. Brosius of Pennsylvania literally bombards the ear with his stentorian efforts, when haif as much volumne would make him much more intelligible and interesting. The dashing general from Alabama can’t talk two minutes till he is breathing like a wind- broken horse or an engine laboring up the “divide.” would profit by a sys- tematic course of voice culture. Speaker Reed has not a powerful voice, and its tones are fer from dulcet, but he pitches it prop- erly, and sends it into space with a force that makes it carry a surprising distance. Mr. Bailey, the young man from Texas, has clear tones of excellent quality, but they are marred by a “campmeeting” makes them monotonous. voice as thin as a woman's and Mr. Patter- son of Tennessee roars like a blizzard through @ canon when he gets on his new gold hobby. Gen. Henderson of Iowa is a pyrotechnic speaker of great eloquence, but he Is Inclined to “rant” In his earnestness. , Mr. Canunen of Illinois ts as good as a circus, with his palated gesticulations and his strides up and down the aisie, and in all his years of service in Congress has not learned than an impressive speaker doesn't have to saw the air or thump the stuffing out of a rosewood desk to make nis points. One of the best.speakers in the House and the ona most seldom heard is Mr. Cousins of Iowa. He speaks in a conversational tone, which carries even to the recesses of the cloak rooms. He has no tricks of voice, no fervency of rhetoric, but his voice seems freighted with ihe earnestness of the pur- pose which moves him to talk. One of the remarkable new speakers of the House is Mr. Connelly, the successor of Mr. Springer. The gentleman of the carnation w2s never an entertaining talk- ef, however interesting his subject, but Mr. Connelly speaks with power and natural eloquence, equaily unstudied. Mr. Johnson of Indiana and the new Mr. Johnson of California would probably tie on which is the more rapid speaker, and no sténogra- pher would care’ to follow either for an hour at a stretch, but they are not of the same “turn,” though both are humorous at wii. The Indiana man’s wit turns on a sarcastic spindle, and that of the Califor- nian is of the “chaffing” nature, and both can bring a laugh, but neither of them is an orator. ‘ When Mr. Payne of New York turns his big voice loose, you imagine that the wind is sweeping through a pine forest, his in- flection rises and falls so monotonously. Mr. Turner of Georgia talks easily, but drearily, and punctuates with “sah.” Mr. McCreary of Tennesser talks in that color- | less judicial manner that makes one feel that it would take less time to read it than to‘ listen to his speeches. Amos Cummings satis into his subject as though it was unpleasant and he wanted to have it out, right then and there, once for all. In fact, there are no real orators among the members of the House, thougn there ere a hundred or more whose every utterance carries weight, and the very mention of whose names brings a crowd to the galleries to hear them speak. The human voice yields so readily to training, it does seem a pity that it should be so sadly neglected. The gavel that Speaker Reed uses must be loadei with ltead. When he brings it down on that’ pounding board, the very ceiling rebounds with the sound of the con- cussion, and every set of false teeth in the House rattles. It stops the flow of rhet- orice of Mr. Cooper of Florida and even slackens the volubility of Mr. Johnson of Indiana. The mace isn’t in it with the power of that gavel. kOe KK The “gentleman from Boston,” Mr. Bar- rett, sustains the statement that Boston men are generally good dressers. He has an especially good taste in neckties, an ex- quisite shade of petunia being his favorite, which he ties most artistically. That is Mrs. Cleveland's favorite color, too. * * kk Mr. Cox of Tennessee is always associated in the minds of strangers with a desk. Hie favorite attitude in questioning a speaker is to walk sedately down the mid- dle aisle, and lean both elbows on some- body’s desk, and in that position he re- mains while he rasps his opponent with questions. * OR OK Ke A very funny sight it was the other day, when the debate of the bond bill was in progress, to see Mr. Crisp chewing gum at the rate of forty knots an hour. His jaws seemed to be keeping company with his thoughts, and ae were scorching along at lightning speed. OK xe * In the gallery on Saturday last there sat a@ man who attracted more attention than would have been accorded the President of the United States, had he walked into the seat set aside for him in the House gal- lery. The man, who was sublimely uncon- cious of the curfosity of the people about him, was the absolute counterpart of Abra- ham Lincoln. A lady, who sat beside a Star reporter, and who had known the liberator well, almost fainted when this man crossed her vision in taking his seat. He was tall and lank, and wore immacu- late broadcloth, which set loosely about his form. He had the large, homely, but kind- ly mouth that Lincoln possessed, and wore the same fringe of whiskers on his chin that Mr. Lincoln used to wear. He had the same gentle eyes, and iron gray hair tossed back in rather long locks from his strongly marked face. As he sat listening to the de- bate, his face in profile was so startlingly like that of the martyred President, that it was positively uncanny. And when he seemed to forget his surroundings, there came into his face that worn, weary ex- pression which sat so often on Lincoin’s face during his last months, and the lady beeide the reporjgr, who was fascinated by the resemblance, got up to leave the gal- lery. “I can’t stand it,” she said. “His face will haunt me to my dying day.” Hundreds of people turned their eyes upon him, and the buzz of surprised comment was almost audible to the Speaker, but the man sat oblivious through it all. Perhaps he was used to it. A man with Lincoln’s face and form couldn't go round over the United States and not be told of it. eke RF “Oh, my goodness!" said a sight-seeing yeung lady Tuesday, when the guide brought her into Statuary Hall. “I didn’t know that the congressional cemetery was in the Capitol! Why, isn’t it real un- healthy?” And the guide said, ‘Well, no; not so very!’ es © 8 ee A new Congressman’s first bill probably causes him more’ agitation and anguish of spirit than any palf dozen he may cham- pion in after yeara.2 If wise he first, segares from the Speaker @ promise of ion, but when he arises and says “Mr. Speaker” there is a tremor in his voice =. ,~ “The gentleman from Blank,” responds the presiding officer, The gentleman from Blank then offers a bill, probably one bearing upon something of local interest_in, his district. He asks that it be read fromi the clerk’s desk. Then a doubt arises in his mind as to whether he should take his seat or remain stand- ing while it is baing read. He at first in- clines to the former view, but when about to rest himself in the seat remembers that he seen an 61@ member remain stand- ing through this part of the program. He straightens up and €ndeavors to look self- confident and perfectly at ease. This is a fa‘lure, and he knows it. He looks around the hall and up ac the press gallery and stands first on one foot and then the other. By this time the title of the bill has been read and he proceeds to tell the House of its great importance and why it should be passed immediately. The chairman of the committee having charge of such affairs makes an inquiry which the new member answers more or less satisfactorily. The bill then ineets its fate, and if it is not referred’ to a commit- tee, but happens to be passed, the new mem- ber files to the telegraph office to let his constituents know all about it. ——__ A CONDITIONAL NUMBER. A Kentucky Mountaineer Gives a Glimpse Into His Home Life. I was picking my way. along a rough piece of road in the Kentucky mountains, says a Star writer, most-of which was in a creek bed in summer and wasn’t much of ‘any place when the waters were up, when an old mountaineer,” clad in home-made jeans and riding a mule, came down a path that led out of a long hollow between the hills and joined me. Naturally I was glad to see him, for the somber loneliness of these mountains {s almost intolerably depressing at times, and any kind of company is wel- come. As we went cn up the creek road, the old fellow following about ten feet be- hind me, owing to the narrowness of tke way, we talked about everything in sight, and at last got down to personalities. g “I suppose you are a ‘mi man?” called back to him. “I shore am,” he replied, though whether it was a tone of joy or not I could hardly say. ‘hat’s where you have the advantage of ,"" I confessed, without compulsion. “I’m bachelor.”” “Well, you shore don’t live nowhars in these parts, do yer?” he asked, with con- siderable confidence. “No; but I don’t see what that has to do with it” “That's caze yer hain’t never tried hit. A man jist couldn’t live in these here moun- tains without he had some sort uv comp’ny that hadn’t no other place to go.” “Well, it’s rather lonesome anywhere, all by one's self,” I admitted. “I reckon mebbe it is, but ef thar’s some- thin’ else goin’ on I reckon thar might be some gittin’ along without bein” hitched to a red-headed woman, with a temper to match.” Evidently the old man’s argument was leading him into the betrayal of domestic secrets, “I know some very charming women who heve red hair,” I said, consolingly. “But you hain’t married to it. Red hair may do fer seventy-five er a hundred meals, -but hit ain't no geod fer a stiddy diet.” “Have you any, children?” I asked, will- fe! to veer somewhat from the subject of air. a “Yes; five boys;!the youngest un jist uv age. Leastways,”and the old man stopped @ moment in thought, “‘leastways, thar wuz five when I left home last Sunday.” Why, what's thé’ matter; any of them mi a he hesitated, “but you know how things is in these parts,” “I can’t say that I do. Is it unhealthy?” “Well, kinder, laughed. “You see, my beys has been in’ some trouble with ther neighbors, furder up the crick, but ez long ez L wus around they kinder he!’ in; howsumdever, they mammy was aggin’ ‘em on, fer she hates them up-orick folks wus- ser'n pizen. They wuz loadin’ ther guns ez I rid off, an’ jist ez like ez not ther ain’t ez many boys in my farh'ly now ez ther wuz when I left, fer,them neighbers is about the shootinest peopje you ever seed, when they gits riled, qn” they rile powerful easy.” The old man’s explanation had a rather depressing effect upon me, but as he seem- ed to take it as a matter of course, and was rather cheerful than otherwise, I braced up, and when we separated, he to go off to the left down another hollow, and I to go on over the gap, I was feeling in comparatively good sp‘rits, —— AN EMBARRASSING SITUATION. Especially the Man is Most Dim- den ad Also Married. One day last week as a Star reporter came out of 14th street into Pennsylvania avenue he met coming across the avenue from the cable cars, from which he had just alight- ed, the most diffident newspaper man on the row. He had a nervous, uncertain, glad-to-escape look, and he met the report- er in much the same spirit a shipwrecked sallor wouid meet @ life preserver. “Hello,” exclaimed the reporter, “what's the matter?” “Whew,” and the diffident man puffed out a long breath of relief, “I hope to goodness Tl never have another such an experi- ence.” “What was it? An accident?” ‘artially,” smiled the escaped. ‘‘A{ least, I think it was. It was this way,” and he turned to give a last gaze at the car as it whirled out of sight around the cor- ter of 15th street. “I was coming up from the capital and the car was pretty well Icaded when three ladies got in at Peace monument. I’thought there was room next to me for them and shoved over to accom- modate them, but only two could get in. Then I offered my place to the third one, but she declined, and insisted on declining so vigorously that I remained in my seat. However, she thanked me and said she weuld sit on the lap of one of her com- panions, and down she sat. “Now, as I said, there wasn’t any room to spare in that car, and when she sat dcwn she sat on one-half of my lap, and I didn’t dare to move a@ peg. I thought she would notice it, but she was busy talking and didn’t, and I stood the pressure the best I knew how. I twisted around three or four times, but it didn’t seem to do any good and only made me more uncomforta- ble, and I finally submitted, quietly, hoping the party would leave the car before I had to. That hope, however, was dashed as we drew nearer to 14th street, and then I be- gan to wonder how I was ever going to get out of it, for I didn’t have time to stay in the car till my fair burden left, neither did I want to pay car fare back from George- town or some other suburban poipt. As the car passed the street I made a hercu- lean effort. “Excuse me, to leave the car heré.’ . ‘Well?’ and the:surprised woman looked ‘at me, qtestioningly, ‘I have no objections.’ “I presume not,’ é stammered, ‘but you are sitting on my ap and I can’t move.” “What! she exoldimed, bouncing up like a rubber ball, ‘allxthat distance?’ “Yes, madam,’,J @mesponded, very much embarrassed, and. feeling like a small boy caught in a jam jar. Rest to me laughed right “Then the tady out. “Well,” she said,:‘I thought you were very light.’ ; “I suppose they,are.talking about it yet,” he concluded, with, another sigh of relief, “but thank heaven. I'm out of it,” and The Star reporter went-and bought a half a dol- lar’s worth of tickets, and asked for a half day off to use them.ap in. ae With a Future. ’ said I, ‘but I want “Jimmy, fur de love o’ heaven what has you got dere?” “Hush! Not a word on yer life! I shaved cur old billy goat and striped him wid black, an’ I'm a-takin’ him into town ter try an’ sell him fur a horned zebray to some dime musev! PRESIDENTIAL SPORTSMEN President Cleveland is scarcely less of an enigma to sportsmen than: he is. to some politicians. Many of his peculiarities are entirely irreconcilable with that disposition which makes a man fond of outdoor sports, especially shooting and fishing. Very different personal qualities from those he displays are looked for generally ina man who is fond of his rod and gun. This leads many who have never accompanied him on one of his trips to believe that he really does not care a great deal for the sport when he gets out, and that the ducks or the fish merely furnish a convenient ex- cuse for getting away. Those who have seen him with gun or rod do not share in th's impression. It is evident to them that he truly enjoys killing game. Moreover, he is quick to avail himself of an opportunity to partake of the homely fare of the coun- try people, and he shows a liking for “roughing it.” Mr. Harrison, when he was in the White House, was quite as fond as is Mr. Cleve- land of shooting and fishing, but he did not devote as much time to that sort of enjoyment. These is a great difference be- tween the’ habits of the two men when in the field, thé boat or the blind. Their dif- ference in temperament is very conspicu- ously shown in their manner of handling @ gun and taking a shot. Herrison has More of the recognized traits of a sports- man. He is a quick shot and takes chances. He is ready to risk an almost impossible shot rather than let it go without the trial, and often gets his game on just such a slim chance. He does not wait for a sure thing. _Ccnsequently when he has been duck shcoting he has made more misses, but at the same time bagged more game than has Cleveland. Saw ieee Cleveland seems to be more anxious not to-miss than he is to get the shot. He will rermit any number of chances to pass without pulling the trigger, which Harri- son would take, hit or miss. He will wait for hours, possibly half the day, for a sure thing, and let fair opportunities go by He shows neither impatience nor fatigue in waiting. When he is offered just the shot he wants, he brings his gun firmly to his shoulder, gets a deliberate sight along the barrel, and when he is perfectly sure of his aim, pulls the trigger. If he fails to get the duck covered just to his Uking, he will lower his gun without fir- ing, and wait for other ducks to come. He Wants an absolute assurance w:th each shot and often allows the bird to zo by when most any other man on earth would take the shot. The result is that very sel- dom he wastes a charge of shot, but he does not get a large number of birds. To miss once is to spoil his sport. He does not mind the game getting away without being shot at. . as s.5 5 Harrison would take’a quick shot with- out waiting to get the gun to his shoulder and would get the game if there was any sort of a show for him. But if he failed he was ready for the next, and thought no more about it, At the end of the day he would regret few shots lost through hesita- ton. Cleveland’s gun is sure death to what gets in its way. Harrison's gun is lable to reach that which seems to be at safe distance. Cleveland wants slow and un- suspecting game. Harrison takes his chance with the wary. Those who have hunted ducks with the two Presidents have been greatly impress- ed with the difference between them. - —_-__ A DISCONCERTED BURGLAR. He Tells One of the Disagreeable Ex- Periences in His Career. Last summer a Star reporter paid a visit to a state penitentiary, and, by the kindness of the warden, he was permitted to have an extended talk with the wickedest man in the prison. Ths man had been a burglar and tough, had killed several men in fights, and is now serving a ten-year sentence for manslaughter. He was communicative, and bis talk was certainly interesting, for he liked to tell over the stories of his experi- ence, and he put into his narration’ a good deal more life than he had ever put into his victims. “Tell me," said the visitor, after an hour’s talk, “what you consider your champion ex- perience in the burgling business.” “There's one that always makes me think what a fool a man can be over even a little thing.” laughed the burglar, who, by the way, was quite well educated. “One of those superstitious notions that have their influ- ence over the best of us. There was in a city I was devoting my talents to at the time a man of fifty or thereabouts, who nad plenty of loose money and jewelry, and who occupied a suite of rooms in a flat. He was a bachelor, and hadn’t many friends visit- ing him, and, after studying his case for a short time, I concluded there was something in him for me. “I located the fire escape and other things necessary in my business, and one night, about three hours before daylight, I was in his sleeping room making financial uvbserva- tions. He was stretched out in bed, and I wasn’t paying much attention to him. for there were other more valuable considera- tions around. As long as he remained quiet I was willing not to disturb him. Well, sust as I was about to gather in a lot of jewelry and a fat pocket book there came a rap on his door, and a hurried call for him to come, as some one was sick across the hall. I knew it would be unpleasant for him to wake and find me there, so, in order to avoid that, I made a quick jump for the bed, grab- bed a pillow, and proceeded to smother him into silence. “The call and knock at the door were re- peated only once, and then whoever it was hurried to the next suite and began pound- ing there and calling. This time some one responded, and in a few minutes the halls were still. So was my friend under the pil- low, for I had added a clutch on his throat, and had his wind shut off for as mach as ten minutes. Quite enough to make a inan quiet,” and the burglar smiled pleasantly. “When everything was serene again, I thought I'd take a look at my man before departing with his valuables, though I never could understand why I should have done so, as that is really a disagreeable part of the profession and seldom done, but I felt curious and wanted to gratify my curi- osity. I held my lantern to his face, expect- ing to see it blue enough after the smother- ing, but, instead of that, it was dead white. That scared me a little, and I took hold of the man and tried to move him. “He was stiff and cold as ice, and like lead. That ended it with me. 1 knew enough about physiology to know that the man had been dead ten hours, at least, before I touched him, and the thought of my trying to smother a dead man gave me such a nervous shock that I could hardly keep from yelling with fright, and on the instart I dropped everything except my lantern and bolted out of the window and down the fire escape, as if the very devil himself were after me. I've regretted It many times since,” concluded the burglar, with a laugh, “but we all have our weaknesses, I pre- sume;” and The Star reporter quite agreed with the burglar. —E—E KIN TO IT. A Novel Phase of the New Woman : Question on a Train. “I was amused at a woman on a train coming into Washington from the south,” said T. B,.Godfrey to a Star reporter. “It showed a novel phase of the new woman question. “At Goldsboro’ a man got on the train with a baby in his arms. A woman fol- lowed him, but paid no attention to the man. The baby was evidently sick, and the father, a North Carolina mountaineer, paced up and down the car trying to quiet the child. Every lady on the car except the woman who got on the train at Golds- boro’ was interested. Considerable specu- lation was indulged in as to the father and child, the consensus of opinion being that he had just lost his wife and was taking the baby to its grandparents. After two or three hours, the woman who boarded the train at the time the man did spoke to him, and he then passed on, fondling the baby. ‘A. benevolent-looking old lady seated near the woman, curious to know something about the matter, said: \d seems to be sick.” “I saw you speak to the father—do you know him?’ “Orter—he’s my husban’.”” “Do you nrean to say that you are that child's mother and let the baby suffer that way?” “He's jess as able to tote it as I be. He's jess as much kin to it as I be,” and the woman turned unconcernedly to the win- dow, while the man continued to walk and dandle the child. MADE IT HIS BUSINESS. Representative Catchings’ Story of a Crack Mississippi Duelist. Representative Boatner of Louisiana has returned to Washington from New Orleans, and his friends are expressing their grati- | fication that the “affair of honor” in which he was involved was settled without an ex- change of shots. His associates in the House look upon him as a man who would fight, but it is doubiful that, as an abstract question, he believes in the propriety of dueling. He would probably have fought, bad it been necessary, simply because it 1s the custom in that section, and he is not timid. There are few men in Congress now, even among the old school scuthern men, who believe in dueling. There are many perhaps who, like Boatner, would fight if they thought it necessa: o preserve their names from reproach, but they no longer 1cok upon that sort of thing as natural and proper. Catchings of Mississippi was telling the other day of some of the early dueling in Mississippi. Now a man losses his citizen- ship for dueling in that state, but there was a time when it was regarded as quite the natural and proper thing to settle diffi- culties that way. Catchings told a story of the experience of a young man who went to Vicksburg frcm sumewhere east, New England or Pennsylvania, some time before the war. His name was Robbin. - He was a mat- ter-of-fact business man, young and of qaviet, gentlemanly manners, not used to Southern ways, but cisposed vo let people alone. He came there to be cashier of one of the principal banks, a position which carried with it good social standing. In the spirit of the times, it was determined by the men of the circle with which he might be expected to associate to make a test of his metal. They began by one of their number picking a quarrel with him. He avoided the quarrel and did not see its purpose. One after another tried to get him embroiled, without success. Then they began to put indignities upon him and to irsult him. His only mode of resentment was to say that they were blackguards, and that he would have nothing to do with them. In a short time they bad him os- tracised. He thought he was ostracising them. He seemed to be entirely uncon- scious of any loss of dignity or standing in the community, and to look upon his isola- tjon as simply his own voluntary rettre- ment from what he considered bad com- pany. Meanwhile, he had become an ob- ject of contempt among the cavailers, and finally it began to reflect upon the bank of which he was cashicr.- One day, after some particularlygross insult had been pass- ed over by him with his accustomed silent contempt, the president of the bank took iim aside and explained the situation, add- ing that he must regain public respect or he would have to sever Ris connection with the bank. Robbin asked what was expect- ed of him, and it was explained that he would have to challenge one of the offend- crs and fight a duel. he said, “I can do that, if it is necessary.”” He sent immediately a chal- lenge to the man who had last put an in- dignity upon him. This man was one who had fought before, and was regarded as a Most accomplished duelist. He promptly uccepted the challenge; they fought with pistols, afi@. both were dangerously wound- ed. As soon as Robbin.got well he took up his tormentors in orde:, challenging them Systematically and deliberately. He fought. eight or ten duels, killing some and wound- ing others of his antagonists. The ostra- cism was declared off, and he was made a lion = ge = a wealthy and preminent, but the reputation of the most dangerous-duelist in the state. He simply devoted himself to the code. Right and left, for little provocation or for none, he challenged men and fought them. It became his chief pleasure in life. He Luilt a massive stone castle on the heights ¢verlooking Vicksburg, which cost an im- mense amount of money, and was known as Robhin’s folly. In this he had a long roofa fitted up as a library and armory. Here he had all’softs of weapons, which might be need in dueling. Hung about the walls were broadswords, foils, pistols, etc., labeled with the particular duel they had been used in. The spiritless Yankee had become a ter- rcr. No one dared to offend him. He was just looking around for some one to fight. His extravagance finally brought financial reverses upon him. Suit was going to be brought against him: fn the courts for a large sum of money owed by him to some parties outside the state. When he was Nctified of it, he wrote a note to each one of the members of the Vicksburg bar, noti- fying him that any lawyer who took the case would have to fight e duel. But one lawyer could be found willing to take the case. He was promptly challenged by Rob- bin. They fought, and both were so seri- ously wounded that they were confined to j their. beds for several months. Then it was discovered that Robbin was insane. When forced into the first duel, the sight of his fallen antagonist had un- balanced his mind and made a monomaniac of him. . Sane on all other subjects, he had become entirely irresponsible on this, and his career had been simply that of a duel- ing maniac. He ended his days in an asylum. S ———._——. HIS NIGHT FOR SHAKING. The Floridian Thought an Earth- aunke Shock Was an Ague Chill. In southern Florida there are frequent evidences of seismic influences. This is also the locality where ague develops its strong- est ch:racteristics. A man who has just returned from that section told a good stery to a Star reporter. He stcpped for the night at a small house built at the edge of a swamp. He was awakened by the house shaking, and real- ized that there was a slight earthquake shock, heavy enough, however, to break the glass in the windows and throw the dishes out of the tin cupboard down stairs. Then the voice of the head of the family was heard: “Sue, go up and give Joe some quinine. I knowed this wer his night to shake, an’ I kain’t hev my sleep broke up by yo’ lazi- ness, not givin’ him no quinine, an’ them diskes is all busted. Go direckly, an’, "member, yo'll sho’ ketch it in the mawnir’.” ———__ WORKING THE ROADS. A Characteristic Scene in the Moun- t of Southwestern Virginia. “I have just returned from southwestern Virgiria,” said a Washingtonian to a Star reporter. “What did you see of interest?” “I saw them work the road: was the reply. “Riding alorg, I noticed a group of men. Each had a gun, and by the roadside, half hidden in a clump of bushes, was a jug of whisky. They were shooting at a target improvised out of a tin can. There were two road scrapers, upon which games of seven-up were in progress. “Having a picnic, boys?’ I asked. “ “Naw,” said one of the men, ‘we're vcrkin’ the roads. Got to do it three days every year. This ‘air our las’ day, an’-I'm nigh 2 dollar loser. One-mo’ day an’ I'd ketch up.” + Then I rode on over the rocky road and meditated. 3 2 A Personal Matter. From The Sketch “Can yer tell me ‘ow far it is to ‘Andcross "Il, guy'nor?” “It’s about three miles. Who do you want tc see there?” “T want to see myself there.” A WOMAN'S OPINION. What a Picture Agent t Some Men She Meets, aria She was a well-dressed woman of thirty- five or thereabouts, portly of figure and snappy of eye, and rather good looking than otherwise. This much a Star reporter noted as she came up to his desk with a portfolio under her arm. “I beg your pardon,” she said, “but I am selling some fine pictures and would like to show them to you.” it was only two days after Christmas, and the man at the desk was suffering with a bad case of vertigo of the pocket. book.’ That is to say, it felt so light it fairly spun around in ‘his pocket, * he cried, as he threw up ‘his hands feng -d = I buy pictures? Look and he laid an emaciat on the desk before her. ' = She laughed pleasantly and sat down. “What's the matter with all the Wash- ington men?” she asked. “None of them y money. I've seen — .joday and all of them say the same “Christmas “week,” en seek ‘k,”" explained the writer. im ve struck us at some other “But J was here two weeks bet - mas, and it wasn’t any bettér. Bikes 2 “They were economizing for the pinch.” ‘Maybe they were,” she said with some- what of a sarcastic accent, “but it doesn't cot anything to be polite.” “Aren't they polite?” and tl writer Was really surpri abet “Well,” she sakt in 4 hard tone, “I com from New Englard, where we don't expect all the courtly gfaées in a ™an, but they Washing- far as I are far and away ahead of these ton men. At least, they are as have seen. Why wan't to see you? he inquired. speak for yourself?” sald L lawyer, I believe, and lawyers, as a rule, don’t employ office boys to do their talking for them, do they? Good mi 2 walked out. : geet wads ind short of two mins of two-or three days, aud they all ask me to call again, and if 5 do, it is only wasted time, because they want to walt sul Jonger. Why don’t they say right wi er lo or di Pictures and end it?” seeder and said if he have got g i a 3 re 3 a EF ig ness man and tells you-at’ to buy or does not. He is about — — -~ ~~ oo is ended. When ie wants to buy he knows what he wants and he doesn’t haggle over price, but hands out the cash or a check and orders the picture or the pictures, for. sometimes he will take an entire set, sont to the address he gives, and the whole thing is done while a. Baltimore or Washington man is hem- ming and hawing abont it. “It's pretty much the same in St. Pail and Minneapolis. I was all over Texas last year, z always polite and many of judges of pictures, and ready best I had, and some of them as $8 apiece, which is a photogravure’ reproductions inv are mice men & so hustling as in Chicago, quick enough” and i 4 i i high as $40 a week.” “That's better than you have done in Washington?” ventured «the man at the “About thirty-nine dollars and a half bet- ter,” she laughed, and went on. “Detroit men are the best judges of pictures I know. At least, they know better what a good picture ia, and the name of an artist is worth a good deal to My are first class, and they to was -— of all —a and Iam sure I can’t complain of scant courtesy in Detroit. They were just lovely, that’s what they were, and I'd like to go back there. “But the loveliest of them all I found in Kentucky. Not only the men, but the wo- i names she gave me, and I sold to a half dozen of them. man sent me to his daughter with instructions to let her choose what she wanted and he would pay the bill, and I never went into any man's office where I was not received with as much courtesy as if I had been a society with money to burn. I found nice poliie men in Indianapolis and Cincinnati, too (those Cincinnati men think they know a great deal about art, and I guess perhaps they do), but there’s something sbout the Kentucky people I'd like to take to New England with me and try to mske it grow there.” “What about York?” “I'm not going there. I’m going to jump home from here, if I have money to buy a ticket with when I am through.” She reached for her portfolio. “Don’t you want to buy a picture?” she asked coakingly. “Come around next-\” began the man at the desk. “Oh,” she laughed, throwing up one hand in interruption, “you are just like your fel- low citizens. Good morning,” and she went way cheerily. GHOST OBJECTED. Philadelphia and New Amd the House Had to Be Moved te tained a year before The cabin at his first visit had faced the road; it now occupied 8 position at a considerable distance from the highway and faced the other direction. When asked about the change, the owner of the cabin said: “Had ter make it.. Dad made sech a fuss "bout it, my wife "lowed we'd they ter move back. Yo" see, #he never knowed the ole. man in his lifetime, an’ she didn’ like bein’ pestered by him twenty y’ar after he jea e “How was that?” inquired The Star “Wall, the house uster be hyar fore war any road, an’ when ded died, we buried "im over yonder ‘hy them oaks. war cut through an” we moved the over dad's grave. He never haé he lived, but when we moved the he uster come every night to our bed an’ try to sw’ar at me, only he couldn’ talk. It kin’ 0” tickled me to see the ole man he couldn’ sw'ar, but my wife kicked it an’ I moved the cabin back agin. The ole man hain’t come back sence, an’ I reckon he'll hey to hev tis way; he allus did fore he died, an’ he hain’t los’ none of his uppishness sence.” —— Fear of the Future. i 5 Wil—“If you are so much in love with that little angel why don’t you propose to her?” Gus (moodily)—“I have seen both her father and mother, and I can't be sure she Won't grow to look like one or the other of them.” —_—+e+ ——— ‘The Difficulty. From the Yonkers Statesman. Yeast—“Did the doctor give you an ides of what ailed yout” Crimsonbeak—“Oh, yea."* “What was itt “Five dollars.”