Evening Star Newspaper, January 11, 1896, Page 17

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 11, 1896-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. 17 SOME MODISH GOWNS Fur is Even Used as a Trimming for Petticoats, LATEST IN WAY OF A STREET CCSTOHE Soiled Party Dresses and How They Can Be Utilized. HINTS ABOUT VEILS AVE YOU A CHAT- elaine? If you have not, get one at on: or consider yourse! quite out of date. It is really the very newest thing out, and is really quite swell. You must have a lit- tle gold chain, and on it you will hang a gold filigree purse, a tiny mirror, pencil, scissors, tablet, bon bon box, vinaigrette ard any other trifle you may happen to have in your possession, and attach the business to your belt with a, barbaric pin, ard—there you are. Of course, you can evhance the teauty of this gold mine ty having the trifles studded with any or all of the precious stones, or you can have them imitation—nobody wiil be the wiser if you ure able to afford the real thing--or you can have the whole arrangement of silver filigree; and really, the silver Is ™much the prettiest, becaus2 everybody knows silver is silver, and people are always speculating on whether gold is gold or only French gilt. The chatelaine gives one quite an air, don’t you know, and it always heralds your coming by jingling like the bells on a little dog. By all means, have ‘one at once. Belt buckles are breast plates, jusi row. Belts stop just und the arms, and the keep pace in frort. Some of tiem and others are both wid>. Silver Is popular, but a silt and a few gold ones are most ertistically chased and set with colcred stones, and are just about as pretty as they can be. If you have lots of mon and rot much taste, y cen have belt buckie tell him who rans that you are Susan or Imogen or Hortense, or Jane, aud have it done in your own peculiar style of sibi life, you haad- somely and costiy be- cause of ip put upon it, and you won't have it set with glass beads either. Buttons? fhe world of women has simply gone crazy over the fad. A girl got on an avenu> caz the other day. who at first glanc= seemed to have ner coat fastened with two pewter pl nd- a nd set on the dress- kards for ale. But when she vanked her feather boa around. so as to display them, one could see that pewter plaies e only plain oxidized yer buttons >f butter plate size. Some these coat buttons are of mother of of pearl, or of horn, and the other day a swell actress nearly broke the heart of every Woman in the parlor of her hotel by sup- porting four exquisitely carved ivory but- tons as big as saucers on her jacket, which Was white corduroy, with applique of black guipure lace down the front and fluted short back, and the whole lined with pmk Batin! wn which is of black silk boucle hi green ground of fins but coarsely woven wool there are several new fea The front, which is of white satin with Valenciennes lace edge, is fast- ened with four gieat rhinestone buttons. The jacket waist is of dark green velvet, ined with pink satin, ard the fluted skirt is faced up on the outside with lace. A bow of white satin ribbon finishes the waist . at the side. About the neck is one of the handsome new Elizabethan ruffs, made of ox plaited whi tin ribbon. The modiste calls the cuffs “Moyen Age” style, whatever that may be. It is all swell, any- how. The use of fur has gone to an absurd length, almost, and at the White House reception New Year day a society ‘leader capped the climax by lifting her dress as she stepped from her carriage to help re- ceive “behind the line,” and displayed a white satin petticoat with a band of Rus- sian sable round the bottom. The imme- diate conclusion of those who saw it was ‘hat she had taken a soiled party dress ° Sy skirt for an u skirt. Rather a unique use of high-price al is found in this combi: jon of black and white. The skirt and lower part of the bodice are of black velvet. A tiny girdle is of white satin, and the upper part of the bodice and the big sleeves are of white satin banded with seal. The lower part of the sleeves is of velvet. The hat has knots of s d white velvet embroidered gold, on a puffed velvet, with a border of seal. the way, you really ought to have ng in your wardrobe with white satin about it. A bodice made of white satin with some guipure lace and jet passe- menterie on it, or a girdle and epaulettes of biack velvet lined with satin. If you have an old dark gown, like black silx or fine wool, in green or brown, freshen it up with cuffs or white satin embroidered with gold thread or jet, and a front and collar- ette of the satin, trimmed to correspon It makes a passe gown look almost ne If you like you can trim in the same man- fer with darker colors, but there is some- thing particularly el@gant in this way of using white satin. Among the colors most worn for even- ing, shades of red, from delicate pink of the seashell to the red that glows in the heart of a Jacque- minot rose, are the favorites. Since wo- men have learned to care for their com- plexions, the saJlow- ness that used to come after thirty is no longer apparent, so that pink recog- nizes no age. Mauve shades are affected by only a few, but greens and blues have many devotees. And greens and blues are very trying, un- = less you select the darkest shades. A wrong shade of either will turn a beautiful woman into a fright. Talking of frights, just gaze on this fac- simile of a swell society girl's latest freak in a street gown. Isn't it a hummer? The material is a heavy rich green wool, made with extravagantly stiff linings, though we are assured that stiff skirts are going out, and has a panel of white broadcloth, and odd straps of the broadcloth on skirt and jacket. The hat is white with green plumes. The shape of the jacket is the very latest thing, and it certainly is a sight. Pariy-going girls are apt to.get a collec- tion of light evening silks on hand that are scarcely good enough to pay for having them dyed darker for petticoats, and that have been cleaned till they will not stand any more of it, and are in despair what to do with them. The present fashion in ball gowns is certainly ifvented for just such. Take your old silk and make it up as plain as 2 pipe-stem, with flaring skirts and a frill or two of the silk at the foot, then get tousselaine de soie or chiffon in some pretty contrasting shade and make a full skirt and draped waist, full puffs over the sleeves, and add a girdle of velvet and jetted band of vel- vet about the low neck, and you wil! have a handsome and girlish gown at very small cost. It is not the richness of the materials that makes a gown swell, but the way it is worn, ‘The new veils are not pretty. The split mesh, with its thick dots, gives a woman's complexion a muddy look, and if she has a high color people are sure to say that she Wears the veil te hide the rouge. Oddly enough, very few men dislike powder on a woman's face, but rouge—well, that is an- other thing, and nine men out of ten will tell you that they seriously object to “paint- ed” faces. “It looks uncivilized,” said a society man the other day. “I wish our Women wouldn't do it.” But to get back to veils. Like a woman's shoes, they should be fresh and new, to give a smart appear- ance to the woman who wears them. Few Women realize this. Never, never fold a veil, but roll it, and do this the minute you remove it. Have a long pasteboard roll an inch or two in diameter, or a piece of smooth mboo, and roll your veil smoothly around this. It will not break in folds and then into holes, through which your patrician nose will poke the second or third time you wear it, if you are careful Gee to follow these instruc- ——+__ THE TRANSVAAL. President Kruger is a Rrave Old Dutchman, Who Knows No Fears. From the New York Tribune. Although the Transvaal is in name a re- public, it is really governed by a despotic oligarchy. Indeed, it might be said to be ruled by a triumvirate, cOnsisting of Presi- dent Kruger, Gen. Joubert and Gen. Smit. The chief and best-known of these is Presi. dent Kruger, or “Oom Paul,” as he Is al- most universally called by the Boers. He is a robust old man of something more than Seventy years. In early life he was phy- sically the strongest man in the whole ‘Transvaal, and he is even now by no means decrepit. He has a long, narrow head, with small, cunning eyes deeply set under fur- rowed brows, a large and rather coarse nose and mouth and a straggling beard. There is little of the phlegmatic Dutchman in his manner in conversation; on the con- trary, he is voluble, excitable and given to a profusion of gestures, In religion he is “Dopper,” that is, a member of the most conservative and big- oted sect among the Boers. He used to be @ great fighter and leader of raids against the natives. When he was a mere iad he distinguished himself in a campaign against | the Zulus. A Boer expedition on the upper Waters of the V: at the close of a day's fighting that a Zulu impi was advancing to attack them. The Boers, all excepting young Kruger, refused to believe it, and lay down to sleep, but Kruger believed the news, determined to Keep watch all night and persuaded one comrade to sit up with him. Sitting on wagons on opposite sides of the ; camp, their rifles in their hands, they watched all night. At length, just before daybreak, Kruger’s keen ear caught the sound of approaching feet. He had just time to give the alarm when a thousand or more Zulus charged full upon the camp. ‘There was a desperate struggle, but the Boers were at last successful and the Zulus were repulsed. But had it not been for Kruger’s watchfulness there is little doubt that every one of the Boers would have been slaughtered. Kruger bears upon his body many scars of bullets and spearheads. His left hand is minus a thumb, which he lost many years ago. He was out hunting when his gun burst and terribly mangled the thumb. He was afraid lockjaw would set in, and so entreated his comrades to amputate the member. One of them tried to do so, but his heart failed him and he gave it up. Thereupon Kruger seized a knife with his other hand and himself cut off the man- gled thumb. The very small scar now re- maining shows how good a job he made of it. He has several times visited England on missions for his countrymen. He first went wearing the broad felt hat, the short jacket and shoes of untanned leather which form the usual costume of a “Dopper” Boer. But on his return home his astonished friends beheld him clad in a high silk hat, a long black frock coat and poiished boots. He told them that England was a good enough country and contained some fine houses, but all the jJand seemed to belong to some one. Even outside of London you could not sit down under a tree to smoke a pipe without hav- ing some one come up and say the land was his and ask you what you were doing there. Kruger has stubbornly refused to learn a word of English, and there is no man in the whole republic who regards Englishmen with more hatred and con- tempt than he does. ———+o+____. Salt and Swearing. From Notes and Queries. A Groll scene was witnessed in the court of a local magistrate at Berlinchen, in the Mark, a few days ago. No sooner had one of the witnesses, a woman, appeared to give evidence, than the accused, who was also a women, started up and screamed out excitedly, “I object to that witness.” The judge asked for her reason. “That wo- man, Herr Richter,” said the defendant, “swears whatever she pleases, and takes no harm by it. The moment she says ‘I swear,’ she lays a piece of salt upon her breast, and then tells any lie without danger. When she goes out of court she will throw the salt away, go that her false witness will not hurt her soul.” ‘The accused had scarcely ended her ex- position of Uiis odd doctrme of the local creed, when ‘he witness cried out, indt nantly, “Iierr Richter, it is not true, I have not a particle of salt abyut me.” And ‘here- upon this Prussian Phryne, like her Greek prototype, Confirmed her word by her deed; she tore open her dress, expost her full bust to the court, and invited the judge to see for himself whether she had taken any such precaution to absolve her soul from the guilt of perjury. The judge had hard work to quiet the two angry ladies, one of whom loudly affirmed, and the other ag loudly denied, the presence of salt some- where. —____+e+ At the Club. From Harper's Bazar. Golfer—‘‘Here, steward, this change isn't right.” Steward—‘I think it is, sir. Five Scotch and sodas.” Golfzr—“But I only had one.” Steward—“Oh! I understand that, sir. But you will have the others before you go. All the members do, sir.” ———_+ee______ Like Being Married. From the Southbridge (Mfass.) Journal, Mr. Winkelstein—“No, Edward, I cannot consent to it. You cannot afford to buy a dog.” Edward—“But, pa, the boy will sell him cheap. He will only cost $2. Mr. Winkelstein—“Yes, and $4 a week to keep him afterward.’ aal river received tidings | FROM THE BOX How Carriage Drivers Regard Soci- ety in Cold Weather. NONE SEEM 10 WANT SYMPATHY But Private Coachmen Deeply Pity the Public Drivers. SORRY FOR NIGHT LINERS T HE STURDY FIG- ure drew itself up stify; the cold gray eyes looked some- what angrily at the interlocutor;a higher color came in- to the round, rosy cheeks, and a slight movement of the Jaw, evidently caused by a momentary gritting of the teeth, made the little bunches of brown side whiskers set all the snugger to his ears. The Star man had injured his feel- ings ard trampled upon his dignity by ask- ing him if coachmen didn’t have a dickens of a hard time pursuing their avocation in very cold weather. He was one of them, to be sure, and gloried in it, particularly as he was Lunnon bred, and had gotten his back and his bearing in "Ide Park, don’t ye knew. “You'll ‘ave’ to awsk some duck what drives er public,” he answered with a scornful veneering to his tone. ‘They are th’ misfortnit clawss, I fawncy. I daon’t know that privit coachmin suffer any in- convensenses” —be grew more amiable when ke had overcome that word —‘‘in caow!d weathah then they do in ‘ot.” : He paused triumphant, and the reporter became humble and contrite, and withal diplomatic. “Well, let’s get something hot,” suggest- ed the scribe, and the Briton relaxed. A brew of Irish whisky made him positively genial. < He Plunges into Parisian. “Tell you something abaout a privit coacbman’s hexperunce?” he _ repeated. “Well, now, ye knaow, that ud make me dewelop many thinks that are onty noo, ye knaow.” He eyed his listener to see the effect of this deadly dash into the Parisian, and, feeling satisfied at it, continued: “I wunt tell everythink I knaow, ye knaow, for 'twould lead, mebbe, to privit seannle and other thinks, but I must say that a privit coachmin in Wash-tgh sees quare things in a season. Now, thare wos that night at th’ Bengal min’ster’s ball, frinstance, we’en th’ Count Cabrolo an’ tkat pritty Cusser gyrul frawm Tuxedy or summers like that took too much tea punch, ye knaow, an’ got in th’ Si'mese chargy’s kerridge by mistake. An’ then that other night w’en Missis Gusher, ye knaow, went to sleep in 'er own cowpee an’ th’ bloody duck o’ a coachmin went to sleep on th’ box, an’ th’ brutes 0” ‘osses carr’d them all arount to th’ stabble. Oh, I cud tell you lots o’ secrets, but——" He was interrupted with the declaration that The Star man’s desire was merely to find out how gentlemen in his profession, exposed as they were to the elements, managed to stand the bitter cold such as prevailed several days ago. A Hollow Butt in His Whip. “Privits don’t suffer much,” he remarked, “but publics ‘ave a hard time. Ye knaow, a rich bloke thinks more of 'is coachy than he does o’ hannythink but 'is wife, er some other feller's. He don’t want no duck of a idjit settin’ up on th’ box shiverin’ till his teeth play like them thinks Cyarmercita claps when she dawnces. So we privits has wom livr'ys an’ thick rugs, an’ for meself an’ lots like me, we ’ave feet wommers, an’, betwix’ me an’ you, the butt o’ me whip is "oller.” ““Hollow—what's it hollow for?” “Bless yer hinnercence,” he answered, with a gay cackle, “th’ butt o’ a whip that’s ‘oller ‘Il hold two good slugs o’ rum at least! No, we don’t 'ave a arf bad time of it, but th’ publics—wéll, you wanter see one o’ them poor ducks. They do ‘ave a hard time.” The Star man hunted up a “public,” or, in other words, the driver of a well-set-up livery team, which is used almost altogether by people in society who cannot afford equipges of their own. He was a fine-look- ing colored man, who was just starting side whiskers. All of the class are raising such appurtenances now, because the President recently selected another coachman with siders, and they want to be fully equipped with qualifications if he comes to select an- other, Peculiarities of Hiring People. “We has purty tough times in cole wed- der,” said Henry, “‘speshully on ’ceivin’ days. You see, when de folks whut hiahs us goes to ‘cepshuns dey don’t have no visitin’ liss, but ony got books wid de names ob ebrybody whut is ‘ceivin on dat day. An w'en dey gits inter er house whar dey gits de glad hand dey dunno w’en ter cum out ergin, an’ den I purty nigh freeze. It's diffunt, doe, at night. Dem times we mosely takes um ter er bail, er er pahty, er de thayter, er sumwhar whar dey stays er long time, an ez soon ez we draps um we gits inter de line an’ gits inside oursefs, er we canters eroun ter de neares’ cullud people's bar an’ keeps de wedder off. Thankee, boss, I sholy will drink ter yo’ helf when I gits de dram. Yaas, suh, de days is de wustest fur us w’en de wedder's cole, but we maiks out all rite arter dark. I useter dribe er night liner wunst, an’ I ain’t kickin’ "bout de job I got now. Dat time fa’rly make me shibber w'en I ’mem- bers bout it.” An Inspiring Thought. A night liner! There was an inspiring thought.' The Star man's mind recurred to the old days on a morning paper when a night liner was part and parcel of his career. “He remembered “Old Ike’’—Ike Lambert—the best-known man who ever drove a night liner. He remembered his huge form, clad in an enormous gray storm coat, with a red comforter to aid it in keep- ing off the air. He remembered the count- less scurries after midnight in Ike's old hack and the way he kept the spavined horses at a gait between a lope and gallop. He remembered his burial in Coagression- al cemetery, when a little rabbit, fearless of the knot of mou-ners, ran out and hop- ped on a near-by grave and sat up as if listening to the words of the minister. He wished “Old Ik” was here to tell about the way his class kept up in the cold, and then seafched out another. They call him “Grits,” if sufficiently intimate with him, for he has a big record in the way of dis- pesing of numerous plates of small hominy. He's educated, too, in a better way than most of his class, but he fell in love with herses, and now he drives a night liner. Hard Times, but Happy. “Time wes when it would have been fool- ish for anybody to waste any sympathy on us," he remarked, as we sat down in an all-night lunch room. “I reckon there nev- er was a set of men wko made a better living than we did when gambling was run wide open and salcons never closed down. Winners would always want to ride if they only had a square to go, and boozers would have to because they'd get their tanks too full to walk. I’ve made as high as $550 in one month in those good old days, but now, when only milk joints like this are allowed to keep open after 12 o'clock, it's lucky for me to make a hundred. Driving a night liner is mighty like hittin’ the pipe when you get into the habit. The daytime loses all attraction for you, and you get so after a while that you can’t sleep when the stars are out to save your life. In cold weather we have just about as good a time, as we do in hot, and we can charge a ger fare, tro. Half Frozen Fares Don’t Bargain. “If a half frozen fellow wants to get home late at night,” he continued, “when the cars have stopped, and you tell him the price to take tim is two dollars, he won’t stand and kick for a minute, but will just pile in and pay up like a major. It’s hard- er on our horses than it is on us. You know a night liner comes ovft about dark daylight. When he has s Keep warm by going, but for one on a very cold ave to stand outside of Ifke this while he is on the emen don’t bether us regu- it mbvin’ on if the weather's fonfay night there was a ‘ks outside here, and the imside, and the police never ‘kon it holds good that hig‘trade in cold as well as inside. lars much al very cold. whole string every man’s any other ind @f weather. We wrap up warm in}any. old stuff that comes handy, blankgt. Qir horses, and have a pretty’ good tfme, taking it all in all, only we'd be a goof d better off if there were more chances £0) 12 o'clock. Iti al an all-night jer feaps his harvest.” The Star saf down and scribbled off this recital of, the @ay’s talks and the sum- ming up of it’all is just what “Grits” con- veyed, that every man is pretty well satis- fied with his own grade in his avocation and pitles the fellow who is one degree lower in the business, ——__— DAINTY LINGERIE. Material Which is ed in Making Articles for Underwear. The dainty woman loves dainty lingerie, and she will have it if she has to cover it with the plainest of plain gowns. When you see a woman on the street with a draggled petticoat, all frayed out at the edge, and the émbroidery slit and hanging in ripped festoons, you can just make up your mind that that woman is a slouch. If she had the disposition, she could keep her skirts clean and whole, be the ma- terials never fo Coarse. Lingerie can be bought in the shops very cheap indeed, and it is often dear at any price. The muslin is coarse, the sewing poor, the trimming scant, and yet the ready-made under- wear is certainly a boon to the time- serving woman, who scarcely has mo- ments enough to eat or sleep, to say noth- ing of time to make her own lingerie. But the larger number of girls, for instance, have plenty of time to spend on under- clothing, making it shapely and fine with neat stitches, and the mother who doesn’t see that her daughter has that finest of all woman’s ac- complishments, a ready needle, is neglect- ing her duty. White India silk is quite popular with certain classes of women who like things to cost a great deal, but it cannot be said that silk will take the place of the ex- quisite linens and sheer lawns with their frost-like trimmings of lace and needle work. Silk must necessarily be trimmed with lace of fine quality. Some of the silk garments are inset with insertions of lace, and lace frills and pretty ribbons run through the insertion and tied in big bows, but really, you know, ribbons run in drawers and chemise are out of place. It has to be pulled out every time the gar- ment Is laundered, and so soon gets soiled and dingy looking. Maybe you think that the styles do not change in lingerie! ¢ That petticoats are petticoats, even if the dress skirts do go to be balloons, and that is just where you are mistaken. When dresses widen at the foot so do skirts, and the trimming is disposed accordingly. If sleeves of dresses get fantastic and puffed up with vain glory, so do sleeves of night dresses and “slumber robes.” Here is a night dress, for instance, that is the very swellest thing in night dresses. The sleeves are the regulation fullness, with a deal of ginger- bread work on them in the shape of putts and things. The yoke is the very latest thing in long shoulders, and altogether, the gown would make a handsome wrapper, as it is of softest surah and filmy la The very handsamest gowns are of linen cambric, almost as soft as cobwebs. This is truc of all the other articles of under- wear. Silk does not “do up” as nicely as linen, and no matter how carefully wash- ed, it yellows, and then the touch of it on the skin is very unpleasant to a great many people. A pretty new style of gown is cut princess . form, half tight fit- ting, with a Watteau back and wide bishop sleeves, with three ruffles of lace run- ning down the out- side to catch over a narrow cuff, which has lace falling over the hand. If one wants to go to the very limit of extravagance in making the drawers for a party outfit, the illustration given will sure- ly present all the possibilities necessary in that direction. The lace and insertion ex- tend clear around the bottom and up the side to the very belt, which isn't a belt, but a bit of ribbon ‘run in to tie. The sheerest of linen Jawn is the material. To go with these a petticoat of the same material has rows of lace let in and ruf- fles of insertion, lace and linen. Back of each row of inser- tion you must run ribbons to match the Test of the lingerie. A neat new corset cover has rows of tiny tucks at the bottom of the waist, back and front, to make it fit the form, and a simple trimming of lace and ribbon about the shoulders. It does not do to put a lot of frills and things about the shoulders to go under a dress waist, for they make an_ uneven ridge and show through the bodice. ——————— The Faith of Childhood. A sturdy youngster, scarcely five, A truer knight was ne’er alive, day had come to visit me, And stayed with us till after tea. ‘Then, as the shades of night were come, I took my little comrade home; And as we walked I suid in jest, ‘ ‘To put his courage to the tes! “Stacy, are you afrald of night?" “Why,' no,” “he said, and then the light Of laughter shone in his blue eyes, As he, in well-assamed surprise, Tooked up at me und as I drew His bana in mine inguired: ‘‘Are you?” T told him a, but thought perhaps It was not so with little chaps. He seemed to ponder my reply, And then at length, reflectivels, He said: ‘Some of “em are, I know, the use of bein’ 80? id at night, you see, For God 1s watching over me. If there was any God I might Be frightened when, ez out at night; But mamma gayg Hé’s always near, And that I hifte‘no“cause to fem But, here, U'M home and so, good: And off he skipped full cheerily. Oh, sturdy lttle friend of mine, life and health and wealth be thinet May He on whom thy trust is stayed emain thine ever-present aid. For thou, indped, art safe from harm When resting on’ Hié mighty arm. He hath no need to rest or sleep Who keeneth ward ger Israel's sheep. Would that ,"'too, thy trust might know, When waves beat high and tempests blow. Would that I, too, in every strait, When on my doubts despair doth wait, Might say, with thee, full trustingly, “I know God watches over me. |. ~McFARREN DAVIS. ‘soe Underrated. From the Cincinnati Enquirer, “Helio, Jack!” said the man in the rail- road station, slapping the back of the man walking ahead of him. “f guess you have read your hand wrong,” said the man, who turned out to be a stranger. “I ain’t- no Jack. My name's King. +02 Nice Man. From the Southbridge (Mass.) Journal. Wiggles—“Do you know old Walker?” ‘Waggles—“Yes.” Wiggles—“What sort of a man is he, any- way?” Waggles—‘Well, if he wanted to marry my mother-in-law,. I shouldn’t have the least objection.” Lack of vitality and color-matter in the bulbs causes the hair to fail out and turn gray. We recommend Hall's Hair Renewer to prevent bald- ness and grayness, ISCIENTIFIC COOKING a What Has Been Learned About the Preparation of Food. MEATS BOILED AND ROASTED Some Suggestions as to How They Should Be Cooked. EXTRACT OF BEEF a eee OME TIME AGO the Department of Agriculture began a system of experi- ments to aid man- kind in living cheaper and in ob- taining the most nourishment from the least bulk of food. Co-operation is had from selected schools and colleges having courses of domestic science, in- cluding cooking. These act as experiment stations, and students are experimented upon scientifically, eating various foods at various times and under varying condi- tions. It is noted how much of the food forms nutriment, how much is useless waste and what nutriments are most valu- able. Mr. C. D. Woods, nutrition expert of the Agricultural Department, has had charge of the experiments with meats. To him the writer is indebted for information which will appear in an official publication by the department. Mr. Woods has cooked foods, especially meats, scientifically, and there would ap- pear to be no re2son why any other cook who can read cannot do the same by using his directions. All that the scientific cook need have is a copy of these directions, an accurate thermometer and an ordinary in- telligence. There is no special brand of stove or frying pan in the paraphernalia. Vegetables,Mr. Woods says, are less readi- ly and less completely digested than ani- mal focds. This is because the nutritious parts of vegetable foods are inclosed in cells with woody walls, which resist the action of the digestive fluids. These woody fibers, he says, irritate the lining of the in- testines, and the food is hurried through them before properly digested. Thus the woody fibers of vegetables often prevent not only the digestion of the vegetable it- self, but of animal food eaten at the same time. Both meats and vegetables, however, ere necessities. Vegetables contain large amounts of sugar and starch, called carbo- hydrates. Meats contain protein and fats. Protein is the most valuable ingredient of foed. It is a name given to ail compounds containing nitrogen. All the protein and about 95 per cent of the fat of meat are digested by a healthy person. Ronst vs. Boiled. Experiments indicate that roasted meat is more completely digested than boiled meat. ‘The smaller the cut to be roasted the hotter should be the fire. An intensely hot fire makes a thick crust on the outside of the roast, by coagulation, and prevents the Grying up of the juice inside. If a small cut be subjected to « mild fire the inside will be dried up while the crust is slowly forming. In other words, the meat is in- Cased in a shell of non-conductor so rapid- ly that the heat has not time to penetrate to the interior. Large cuts, on the other hand, should be subjected to less heat when roasted than small The juice of meat is conducte nd a large r become burned and changed to charcoal on the outside before the heat can’ penetrate the inside. The result of a hot fire on a large roast would therefore be a lump of raw meat covered with a thick burnt crust. The same rule holds good for broiling, according to our authority. ~ A steak exposed to an intense heat for ten minutes will be thoroughly cooked, and yet have the desirable, rare, juicy appear- ance when cut. it should be either roasted, broiled or fried, for by these methods its juices are saved. When Ment is Boiled. If you are boiling meat remember that it is Impossible to make a rich broth and ob- tain a juicy, highly flavored e of meat at the same time. If the meat is to be eaten, and not the liquid, the cooking in water should be as follows: Plunge the cut at once into a generous supply of boiling water, and keep the water at the boWing point for ten minutes. Meat beiled in this way is covered with a coating which seals the pores and prevents the nourishing ingredients from escaping. If the boiling is continued longer than ten minutes the interior will become hard. The temperature of the water, therefore, should be allowed to cool to about 180 degrees F., when the meat can be cooked without be- coming hard. This method will require a longer time, but the meat will be tender and juicy instead of tough and dry, as will be the case when the water is kept boiling, or nearly boiling, during the entire time of cooking. you are boiling delicate fish, such as salmon, cod or halibut, do net plunge into boiling wate-, because its motion tends to break the fish into small pieces. Fish should first be put into water that is on the point of boiling. The water should be kept at this temperature for a few minutes, and then allowed to ccol to about 180 degrees F., as in the case of meats. If yon are boiling meat into soup or broth, Temember that the smaller the pieces the longer the cookirg, and the hotter the water the richer will be the broth and the poorer the remaining meat. Do not have the water boiling when you begin. Let it be cool when you put the meat in, and al- low it to become gradually hotter. The longer the water is heated the tougher and more tasteless the meat becomes. Good, Strong Soup. ‘The “soup meat,” or that which is left in the pot after the broth is made, has great nutritive value, though tasteless. It is as easily and completely digested as the same weight of ordinary roast. It contains nearly all the protein of the meat, and if properly combined with vegetables and weil seasoned an agreeable and nutritive food may be obtained. If both the broth and meat are to be used—that is, if a stew is to be made—the precess should be entirely different. For stewing, the meat should be cut into small pieces and put into cold water, in order that as much of the juice and natural ma- terial as possible may be dissolved. The temperature of the water should then be raised to about 180 degrees F., and kept there for some hours. Treated in this way, the broth will be rich and the meat tender and juicy. If the water be made much hotter than 180 degrees F., the result will be dry, hard fibers. If this higher tem- perature be maintained long enough the connective tissues will be changed to gel- atine and partly dissolved away, while the meat will become so tender that if touched with a fork it will fall to pieces. Extract of beef, if pure, according to Mr. Woods, contains nothing but the flavoring matter of the meat from which it is pre- pared. According to the way in which it is made it cannot contain any protein. It is therefore not a food at all, but a stimu- lant, and should be classed with tea and coffee, It should never be given to a sick person unless specially prescribed by a competent physician. Its strong, meaty taste is deceptive, and a person depending upon it alone for food would die of starva- tion. The meat of young animals is more ten- der, but not so highly flavored, as that of older ones. In most cases the flesh of males is found to be richer in flavor than that of females. Therefore, if you are buy- ing a turkey, let it be a gobbler, or if a chicken, let it be a rooster. There are two exceptions to this rule, however, according to Mr. Woods. The flesh of the goose is more highly flavored than that of the gan- der, and there is little difference between the male and female of pork. It is found that a person eating meat alone cannot digest more than two pounds @ day without causing illness. When less than two pounds of roast beef is taken in a day, all but about 3 per cent is digested. If you are to make & meal of meat alone ; Highest of all in Leavening Power.— Latest U.S. Gov’t Report Rgal ARSOLUTELY Baking Powder THE TELEGRAPH It Dées Things That Seem Marvelou to the Ordinary Listener. From the Philadelphia Tims. It is wonderful how the ear may be edu- cated. An old-time telegraph operator last night related some of his experiences with scund telegraph.-There is no reason to doubt his stories and they are worthy of being repeated in his own language. Said he: “The ear becomes to an experienced telegrapher so acute that the slightest va- riation in time or sound is as plain to him as a dropped note is to a musician. Any gccd operator is able to distinguish the dif- ferenge between the sending of operators, and can tell by the sound of the instrument any man with whom he has worked for any considerable length of time. You know I am out of the business now, and have been for a number of years. Still I occa- sionally drop into telegraph offices, and like nothing better than to get on a busy wire and be ‘roasted’ by a fast man for an hour. it keeps my hand in, which needs almost constant practice in order that it may not lcse its nimbieness when working the key. The ear, however, never loses its sensitive- ness. While in Newark, N. J., a year or two ago I was called to the Western Union office by telephone. When I arrived there the manager said: “There is a man in Philadelphia who wants to talk to you, pointing out the instrument which I was to use. I opened the key and called Philadel- phia. The operator answered, and I made myself known. ‘How are things, my boy, came back an answer, with no Name at- tached. “Joe Gettler, by gum,’ I said; and so it | w Now, mark you. I had not seen or heard from my friend Gettler for three yesrs, and had not heard him send a word by telegraph during that period of time. He and I had worked on the same line for a year or more, and his sending was as | familiar to me as is your voice. I recog- nized his touch, and yet I supposed he was at that time in a Chicago telegraph office. Yes, there is clearly as much difference b tween the sound of different telegraphers’ sending as there is between the handwrit- ing of any two men in the same line of brsiness. In fact, there is a much clearer Gistinction hetween the sound of the instru- ment when different hands are working the key than there is between the penmanship of two telegraphers, because there is a mwurked resemblance in all good operators’ copy. “It is stated, and I have nc reason to dis- believe the story, that during the war of the rebellion, Jim Waite, an old-timer New Ycrk operator, was sent to the front by the fovernment to work important wires. He one day got onto a wire over which very important secret messages were being sent by confederates, and the result would have been funny had it not been such a serious matter. It was in Tennessee or Kentucky, I forget which. Waite, with his pocket in- sirument, got inside the confederate lines and, having learned that messages were be- ing sent ove~ a certain wire from Rich- mend to the general in command at that point, he tapped the wire and copied sev- eral valuable messages. This was nothing new, for operators on both sides did the same thing time and time again. But Waite was over-anxious. There was an in- terruption in the middle of a dispatch, and Jim was anxious to get the remainder. To urge the sender on he opened hig, key, and simply said: "G. A. Commissary.’ The ‘G. A.’ meant ‘go ahead,’ and ‘commissary’ was the last word that had been sent. What was Waite’s surprise to hear, instead of a continuance of the message: ‘Jim Waite, what are you doing on this line? Get out or thers will be trouble.” Jim didn’t v id out who the man was. rd that the sender had a miliar sound, but he couldn't for the of him tell who the operator was. im found out four or five years later. He was still telegraphing and was em- ployed in the old Broadway office of the Western Union Telegraph Company, New York. One day a young man walked into the office and asked for Jim Waite. The men met and looked at each other, but there was no recognition of the visitor by Waite. In fact, they looked upon each other's faces for the first time. ‘So you're sim Waite,’ said the caller. ‘Well, I'm glad to meet you. My name is Mos Charles Mosely, and I used to sign “C. R.” in Charleston.’ Waite remembered him in an instant. The two men for a long time had worked different ends of a north and south wire before the outbreak of the war, and had become fast friends without ever hav. ing met. Still, Jim didn’t know Mosely was the man who had told him to get off the wire inside the confederate lines. ‘Where did you go after stealing those dispatches I was sending during the war? asked Mosely, and then Waite understood it all. Mcsely supposed that Waite had recog- nized his sending even while stealing the dispatches, and said he thought it strange that Waite had not recognized his sending as quickly as he had the touch of Waite. I knew Waite well, and he declares that the ory is absolutely true. “Any operator who is accustomed to work by sound with men every day can tell in an instant just who is working the key. There is something peculiar in the way each operator opens and closes his key. Of course, it is entirely a matter of education of the ear. Another evidence of the susceptibility of the aural nerves to education is the fact that an operator can receive and copy a message and at the same time distinctly hear and comprehend everything that is being said by others in the room. He can be very busily engaged at anything, and yet his ear will take in everything that is said near him. Another peculiar thing is the fact that a telegrapher working at night will lay his head within two inches of a working instrument and sleep as soundly as though in bed. He will not be disturbed in the least until his own office call is sounded by the instrument. That will awaken him in an instant. Of course, each sound is exactly of the same degree of intensity, and it is only the train- ing of the ear that causes him to distin- guish his office call when even asleep. -se<——____ BRUINS ACUTE GASTRITIS. It Was the Result of a Meal of Dynamite. From the St. Louis Globe-Democrat. Thomas Miline, a New Yorker, who is visiting friends at Binghamton, started with them on his first bear gunt last Wednes- day. Footprints were traced through a patch of woods into a glen, where they became pertly obscured. The ravine was a rocky wall, about twenty feet high,"and near by two Italians were at work excavating for a railroad switch to be used in the transfer of logs to the maim line. They were pre- paring to thaw out a quantity of dyna- mite for blasting purposes. The hunters left and returned later, when one of the Italians accused them of stealing the dy- namite they were preparing to thaw. There was a rustling in the underbrush on the bank high above, and the shaggy hide of the long-sougnt bear came into sight. Miline emptied both barreis into the brute’s head. The bear lunged heavily forward und tumbled over the bank. His fall was followed by a terrific explosion, which hurled the Italians into the brush. Tne hunters, when they examined the re- mains, or fragments, of the bear, discov- ered that he had been literally blown to pieces. It is supposed that he came upon the dynamite that the workmen had pre- pared to thaw, and finding it sweet anf not unpalatable, swallowed the whole of it. His internal heat had thawed the dynamite, and in falling he struck a rock, causing the explosion. Several windows in a neighboring farm house were broken by the force of the shock. ——-+e-+ —__ _ IS THIS THE MISSING LINK? Savans Think That an Authentic Re- mote Ancestor Has Been Found. At the last meeting of the French So- ciete d’'Anthropologie, says the Figaro, the savans of Paris were convinced of the im- portance of a fecent discovery made in Java by Dr. Dubois, a Dutch naturalist, who has at last, he considers, found the real missing Ink. This scientist made a journsy to Java and collected 400 boxes of bones, and among these remains he has found a skull, a thigh bone and two wisdom teeth, which he de- clares belong to the same skeleton. He kas given the name Pythecanthropus Erec- tus—that is to say, neither man nor mon- key—to the being to waich these bones once belonged. When fac-similes of Dr. Dubois’ discov- ery were seen by the members of the Paris Societe d’Anthropologie they ce: to re- gerd the matter as a joke and were ui ani- mous ip their regrets that in place of a th-gh bone Dr. Dubois had not found a tibia, because this portion of the mysterious be- ing’s anatomy would have allowed them to decide in a much surer manner whether the animal in question really did walk with his nose in the air, which Ovid remarked was the principal characteristic of human- ity. ————- see —____ Decline of the Ballet. From the London World. The majority of its most famous expo- nents at the present day are, strictly speak- ing, not dancers at all, but either acrobats or elise dependent for their chief éffects on limelight, colored glass, sticks and hun- dreds of yards of drapery. Even our best stage dancers have succumbed to the temptation of winding up with the head- ever-heels business, just as a vulgar singer must always wind up with a high note. In fashionable society, it is true, there has been of late years a certain one-sided re- vival, owing to the craze for skirt dancing, but men dance execrably. It must be assigned in great part to the enormous multiplication of pastimes in the last thirty years. Before the seventies men shot and hunted and played cricket. But since that date we have witnessed the spread of polo, the rise and deci! of jawn tennis, and finally the universal craze for golf and bicycling, to say nothing of the enormously greater demands made on the leisure ‘of the average person by the claims of music, which has now in great messure superseded the art of which it was once the handmaid.* For the ballet, once the great attraction to the average operagoer, has been excom- municated by the high priests of the mod- ern music drama. There has been no bal- let in any opera of real note, with the sol exception of Bizet’s “Carmen,” since the Paris versioa of “Tannhaeuser” in 1861. All these facts have contributed to the de- cline of dancing in the last thirty years. Rt ae id Remedy. From the Detroit Free Press. “Have you heard that Jack Outlate has fractured his arm?", “Poor fellow!" “The doctor has ordered him to use a sling.” NECESSITIES From Punch. “Yes, my lady. James went this mornin heavy luggage with Charles. But I've got * with the hunters, and I've sent on the your pencil case, the bicycle, your lady- ship's golf clubs and hunting crop and billiard cue, the lawn tennis racket, the besique carts and markers, your ladyship’s betting book and racing glasses and skates and waik- ing stick—and if I’ve forgotten anything I can easily wire back for it from the first station we stop at.”