Evening Star Newspaper, February 29, 1896, Page 14

EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 29, 1896-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. “There is only one suggestion I can make for the improvement of the Capitol and the Public buildings generally,” said the wife of the proprietor of one of the leading hotels in New York, “end that is that there should be a housekeeper employed in each one of them, a real housekeeper, such as is employed in all of the large hotels. I netice very frequently when passing through the Capitol and when in the pub- le buildings that there are grease spots, thumb marks, etc., on the doors and other painted work; that much of the glass in the windows has a smoky appearance, and fn some cases is downright dirty. I would not make the place a fancy one, that fs, a political ure, but would provide that the appointments should be made by merit, just as is the case in the large hotels. ‘There are plenty of good women obtainable, and I am sure the innovation would be an acceptable one.” ke ee “A few weeks ago,” the conductor re- marked, “people were all talking about whether the cars should stop on the near or the far side of streets. That is over now, for the cars stop on the near side ané the herdics on both sides. What both- ers the people now is how to get on the ears. They got so used to havirg the car stop on the far side that they still keep up the habit of going to that side, and they make all kinds of complaints because we don’t stop.” a ee “That flying machine there,” said the po- iice officer in tne National Museum, “is just now the star of the museum. It draws more eyes than anything else in the place, and nine out of every ten of the visitors think it is a model of the aeroplane that Prof. Langley is working on. The fact is that that machine is by no means com- plete. Still, there are hundreds who speak of it as the car of the future.” e** ee * “What makes me mad,” observed the at- tendant et the lion cage at the Zoo last Sunday, “is to see the hundreds of women who come here stand around the snake cases and admire the crawling occupants. Time and time again I have heard them say, ‘How I would like to touch them.’ Now, it is different with the boys. They say, as they look at the lions, ‘How I would like to have them hitched up to 4 wagon,’ or sometiing like that, indicating boldness er courage. Not one man out of twenty ever looks at the snakes, and there is not one woman out of twenty who dees not. ‘The baby lion is growing wonderfully well, but is not in it with the snakes as far as the women are concerned.” cet ee “It looks as if the charcoal man would soon become a thing of the past,” said an old charcoal dealer to a Star reporter a few days since. “Somehow,” he continued, “people have forgotten the uses and ad- Yautages of charcoal. Customers who for- merly used a barrel or so in a week now do not get that much in a couple of months, and the great majority have given up using it altogether. At hotels where three and four barrels a week were needed they now manage to get along without it. But few of the modern ranges are provided with a charcoal furnace, while in past times no firsi-class range was complete without a separate place in which to burn charcoal. The modern cooking school teachers do not seem to krow that charccal ever played a part in the kitchen. As far as I can see now, the only cooks who use charcoal are those who learned of its ad- vantages in days of their apprenticeship years ago, and who are so old-fashioned in their ways that they will not consent to a change. There was once a time when none of the best eaters would think of eat- ing a steak that was not broiled over char- coal” eee ee “There was once a time,” said Mr. Clem- ents, the eff:cient chief clerk of Mr. Edward Clark, the architect of the Capitol, to a Star writer recently, “when the basement rooms of the Capitol were the most sought for in the building. They had attractions that the other rooms did not have, and coull not secure. Indeed, there were vis- itors to these basemert rooms that would not take the trouble to even look into the others. I refer to the time, during the early part of the war, when this room (he was seated in the office of the architect) and the three rooms adjoining were transform- ed into a big bakery. There were ovens in each room, which had a capacity of many hundreds of loaves of bread each per day, and they were for a while run to their fullest extent, night as well as day. It Was only a temporary thing, however, for as soon as the government saw that it had @ real war on its hands, other and better arrangements were made, and the ovens Were taken away from here. The bread made here was fine, as skilled men were employed, the ovens were well arranged and the Sour the best that could be had. Not only were the soldiers who were camp- ed in the Capitol suppiied, but many oth- ers, and particularly the soldiers who were hourly arriving at the big barrack at the depot, known as the ‘Soldiers’ Rest.’ Fre- quently as many as a thousand soldiers ar- rived there in a day, and for a time all the bread they ate was baked in these rooms. The loaves, I remember, were nearly dou- ble the size of the loaf of today. Sixteen of them were baked together—all in one loaf, as it were. Where the statue of Mar- skall now stands was the place where the bakers’ pine was corded and the kindling chopped up. In those days wagons could be backed right up to the walls of the building.” +e ee “The success of the weather map,” said ® leading physician, “shows conclusively to my mind that the proposed health map Was not such a wild scheme after all. Both schemes were pressed upon Congress about the same time. The originator of the health map idea proposed by i! to show as frequently as occasion should require the exact health condition of the country. He @esired that the weather map should not only show the metervlogical conditions, but also where diseases prevailed and to what extent. He claimed that epidemics traveled with even more regularity than is the case with storms, and that physicians with the information map would give could be better prepared to combat and treat epidemics.. But it would not go, and the originator of the health map idea, one of the most prominent physicians of this city, during his day, worried over it so that not only himself but his principal associ- ates In the scheme ended their days im the government insane asylum.” xe OK Kx “I am one of the ‘sloppers’ The Star spoke of last week,” responded a well- known alley garbage searcher. “There are two sides to this question. In the first place the slopper is forced to be queer in his actions. Let me tell you the story. Some time ago I found in the garbage of a hote) a lot of towels, napkins and some table ware. They had been thrown there by the servants either carelessly or pur- posely to get them out of the way. I gath- ered them up carefuliy and returned them to the hotel steward. He raised a big row with the waiters and dish washers about it, and the result was I did not get any more garbage from that hotel. The serv- ants boycotted me for my honesty. Under the circumstances it is easy to see that it is better for a slopper to take everything that comes along, and say nothing. In my house today my meals are served by my old woman in dishes that have the names of several leading hotels, and all the tow- els in my house are similarly marked. I don’t want to be dishonest, but somehow hotel keepers don’t like such things re- = turned to them. Certainly the servants — j| Tennessee,” said Ab. Hardy of Bristol at IN HOTEL CORRIDORS “I see that. the blue book puts Kansas City as Senator Vest’s home,” said R. C. King of Sedafia at the Howard. “I did not know that he had removed his residence from Sedalia. There were two law firms— one in Sedalia, the other in Warrensburg, a few miles west of Sedalla—that for many years had entire control of Missour! poli- tics. The two firms held the best portion of the law business of northern and central Missoyri, but found time to also dictate political matters. Of the four members of e these two firms so closely allied two are the Senators from Missouri, Vest and Cockrell. One of the others, Judge Phillips, chose the supreme bench of Missouri, while Gen. Crit- tenden drew the governorship. All four were occupying offices at the same time, and in state or national affairs it was neces- sary for a citizen of Missouri to obtain their Influence. The four always worked together, and it might be called a regularly organized firm of politicians consisting of four mem- ers.” don’t.” x eK kK “One of the greatest natural curiosities I ever saw, is what is termed ‘the Devil's looking glass’ on the Nola Chucky river, in the Normandie. “‘‘The Devil's looking glaes’ proper is only a wall of rock, seem- ingly, and the traveler wonders why it took the name. In fact, many of the na- tives do not know, but it comes from a small spring immediately below the rock, ard the smooth surface of the palisades is So arranged that the sun throws a reflec- tion upon the clear water of the spring in such a way that persons, standing over it, can see themselves as plainly as in the fin- est of mirrors, aided by the most favorable light. From certain standpoints the water icoks as though {t was, in fact, a mirror, and this is intensified as the person moves and finds the rocks reftecting the sun’s rays back again, so as to dazzle the eyes as though some one were playing a trick with a piece of looking glass and throwing the sunlight into your face. —— A CASE OF SELF-DEFENSE. R. D. Lamar of Cheyenne is at the Met- ropolitan, it being his first trip to Washing- ton since 1852. “At that time,” he sald, “there was not a street or a building I was not familiar with, and these who have resid- ed here continuously or have visited the city during the interim cannot appreciate the difference. The White House was out in the country, and the patent office was at the edge of the city on the north, It was cer- tainly the muddiest place in the United States, wagons sticking fast on Pennsylva- nia avenue. No one lived here who could live any place else, and parts of the city that are now exceedingly attractive were dismal swamps. I think there were more and larger frogs with louder voices than I ever heard any place else, while now it is one of the most magnificent capital cities in the world. The difference good sewerage and street paving can make is magical. I have Gevoted a week to going around the city and am not tired yet." A Drummer Fond of Fishing Has an Experience in Another Line. The drummer for a New York house was talking to a Star reporter about a homicide he had just read of in the paper which was lying in bis lap. “Did you ever kill a man?” he asked, in quite an unexpected fashion. “Of course, I didn’t,” replied the reporter, jumping as if he had been accused of such a crime. “Well,” laughed the drummer, “don’t get scared about tt. I didn’t say you had, did I?” “No,” hesitated the writer, “but the mere asking of a question implies a doubt. As an offset, may I inquire if you ever did?” “That's another story,” he said, getting himself ready for it. “Tell it." “Here goes. Five or six years ago I was in @ mountain town in a southern state, name- less here forevermore, seeing the only cus- tomer I had there. I was through with him in about fifteen minutes, and, knowing of a fine stream eight or nine miles out in the country where fishing was excellent, I hired a horse and started cut to have a day's en- joyment of the sport I like best of all. My train didn’t leave until 6 o'clock in the evening, and I had done with my customer by half-past 7 in the morning, so there was plenty of time. “When near the fishing place I secured the services of two or three natives, and, pro- viding myself with their rods and lines, I sent them on ahead and followed on horse- back. When I got to the pool where I was to fish I found seven men waiting for me. Everything went along very smoothly, and 1 had caught a dozen or more fine ones, while my aids put in most of their time playing cards and drinking my_ brandy. This didn’t worry me at all, for I had gone cn up the stream, leaving them at the pool where we first stopped and where I had itched my horse. “It was 4 o'clock when I came back. I fcund the whole crowd drunk. I was ready to go to town, but when I started for my horse one of the raen asked me to pay for the fishing tackle. I insisted that the brandy had paid for that, but to avoid trouble I was about to pay the amount de- manded, when the man became angry at something I said and in a minute had out his pistol. I confess 1 was frightened, but I had to make the most of it, and begged him not to shoot. ‘Then the others said I'd have to fight , for I had insulted him. I agreed to if he would fight with his fists, and as I was unarmed, this was agreed to. A ring was marked off where the fight was to take place, and fortunately for me, as it after- ward turned out, it was near the bank of the stream, and sheer fifteen feet above the stream, which was deep there, and fifty or sixty feet wide. I was handy with my fists, though I didn't look it, heing light and slender, and as soon 2s I stood up be- fore my man I knew I had him. “At the same time, I knew if I knocked him out, the crowd would Kkely jump me ard pound me to pulp, if they didn't shoot me full of holes. However, it was fight or nothing, and I fought. I let him hit me once or twice, and then, when he became confident, I landed him one square under the ear, and he took a step or two back- ward, and over the bank he went. That was entirely unexpected by all of us, and we rushed to the bank, the crowd ahead of me and huddled together. Then came my irspiration, and with a widespread of my arms and knocking them against each oth- er all I could, I gave a mighty shove and pushed the entire gang over the bank after their friend and companion. Such a yell went up as you never heard, and I never want to again, and I turned and ran for my horse. The next minute I was on his back and making him go faster than he ever went before in his life. An hour later I was in town, and when my train came along, I was the first passenger to get aboard.” “Were any of them drowned?” inquired the writer. “Really,” smiled the drummer, “I never went back to inquire. I did hear, though, that two or three men had been accidental- ly drowned in that neighborhood about that time. I presume those who got out felt so ashamed that one man had thrown seven over a bank into deep water that they n gave it away, and by the same token, I'm pretty sure in my mind if I had not done what I did, they never would have told what became of me.” ——— Lisping Girls Unfashionable. From the London Graphic. Subject for a poem, “The Lady of the Lost Lisp.” “Why?” you will indignantly ask, my dear sir or madame, as the case may be. Why? Because the lisp is lost.'| I move about as much as most people, and in a variety of circles, but it is a very, very long time since my ears have been re- freshed by a lisp. It ts altogether gone out of fashion, or is lisping never taught in young ladies’ schools in the present day? Is lisping thought to be inappropriate to tae tall, athletic damsels of modern times, are their tongues so exercised upon a va- riety of topics that they are never able, even for a moment, to lapse into a lisp, or is the improvement in dental surgery so vast that any lingual eccentricity of the kind referred to is impossible? I should much like to know the real reason of the disappearnce of -the lisp, and it would be refreshing to listen—just for a little while —to the conversation of such lithping latheth as were by no means uncommon years agone. “A source of great expense to the United States is Its timber land,” eaid George C. Hadley of Springfield, Mo., at the Cochran. “In the Ozark mountains of Missouri there Js still a good deal of land remaining un- sold by the government, and there are some trees growing on it that are fit for nothing but firewood. As is well known, a statute exists making the cutting of such trees a misdemeanor. Times are hard and money scarce in that country, so one man stands as a sort of sacrificial victim, cuts down a tree, is informed upon, and several neigh- bors are summoned as witnesses, there al- ways being some question as to the man's guilt. He is hound over by a United States commissioner, and his neighbors all appear there, before the grand jury, and on the trial, as witnesses, thelr fees and mileage being equally divided among themselves and the family of the victim. If convicted he serves out his term, his neighbors all assisting in doing the necessary work about his sterile farm at home. The gov- ernment has expended hundreds of dollars to convict the man for cutting down a 50-cent tree, the accused has received his share of the amount, and every one is satisfied.” John T. Watkins of Naperville, Cal., is at Willard’s. He is interested in a mushroom farm out there, and 1s enthusiastic as to its present success and future pros- pects. “Mushroom farms have been operated in France for a good many years,” he said, “and they are protected by law. In the United States every spring the papers publish accounts of people in cities dying from eating polsonous fungi, belleving them to be mushrooms. This loss of life 1s total- ly unnecessary if proper care is taken in raising mushrooma and the cities would require licenses or some other means of determining that the food comes from regular farms, and is not gathered hap- hazard. The raising of mushrooms requires close attention and a thorough knowl- edge of the business, but with these requi- sites there is no trouble to make a farm of that kind successful, and if the enterprise was properly advertised and encouraged, enough would be started to stop the annual deaths from eating toadstools, and the markets would be well supplied with the best mushrooms. this “I was driving along a road in the moun- tains of wstern North Carolina a short time ago,” said P. B. Mayfleld, a traveling man of St. Louis, at the Riggs, “when I heard a wagon coming around a bend in the road. My horses shied, then began to tremble, Leing evidently in the most abject terror. I could not make them move a foot, and when the approaching team came into sight I saw the reason, and getting out of the buggy succeeded in quieting my horses, so as to allow the strange team room to pass, the driver of the brutes ahead of me calling, “They won't hurt nothin’, stranger, don't be skeared.’ He was driving a team of full-grown black bears, and they were making about as fast time as a yoke of xen would. They were hitched to a wagon loaded with logs. The upper part of the were small and heavy, evidently the work of a local blacksmith. The bears paid no attention to me or to my team and walked along leisurely, drawing their load, seem- ingly without effort, but I was glad when they were out of sight.” R. T. Logan of San Francisco is at the St. James. “Some time ago,” he said, “the chamber of commerce sent out inquiries through the orange-raisirg districts as to whether or not dried orange peel could be obtained in commercial quantities. The re- sult has been surprising. People realized at once that a rew industry had been open- ed up and that hereafter when frost catches @ crop it will not result in total loss, as the spoiled fruit can be peeled and the peelings dried. One man has 7 in 6,000 pounds of dried orange peel fan the use for it, which has heretofore been \mited, has been greatly increased, while if the suppiy can be relied upon, the de. mand will be very large. It 1s’ used in various ways, principally for extracts for flavors and for medicines, but new uses are found very frequently, and the orange peel industry promises to become a prominent one.” “I am decidedly in favor of the Massa- chusetts delegation voting for Senator Lodge in the St. Louis convention,” said W. D. Walworth of Boston at the Shore- ham. “No man has any particular claims to the presidential nomination any more than any other man, and it is a very fit- ting tribute for each state to name Its par- ticular choice on the first ballot. Nat- urally, some of these would drop out after the first ballot, and then the real strength of those who are candidates would be shown. The nomination would be free from the suspicion of ring rule or bossism, and I fully believe it would be more satisfac- tory te the people at large, while a number of worthy men would receive honors to which they are entitled and would always appreciate. And if Senator Lodge were to be put forward as a candidate, I am not at al! certain he would fail to secure the nomination. In point of ability and party service he would certainly compare with others, and Massachusetts has not had a candidate for many years.” 7ee E. B. Houston of Huntsville, Ala., ts at the Ebbitt. Speaking of political matters in that state, he said: “I notice the news- Papers express surprise that Reuben F. Kolb ts willing to go into a fusion ticket fer the nomination of some one else for governor, when it has been the ambition of his life to oceupy that position,and he claims that he was legally elected to it; and, too, that he would come to Washington and lend his influence to the securing of aid in a campaign of which he is not the central figure seems very singular. The fact 1s, Capt. Kolb has not abated his zeal in his own interests, nor abandoned his claims to recognition, But he would now rather be United States Senator than governor, and while he would not be quoted as say- ing so, yet it is pretty well understood by the mass of voters that the republicans shall have the governor of the fusion ticket, and if the ticket is successful, so that there is a legislature with a majority of republicans end populists combined, Capt. Kolb is to be elected to the United Btates Senati —_—_.—__— A Matter of Politics. From the Detroit Tribune. “Yes, indeed, sir. As the Scriptures dosay,| Teacher—“Say ‘isn’t.’ ‘Hain’t’ is not En- ‘Train up a child and away ‘e do go. glish.”” —Sketch.| Boy—“Huh, You must be a tory.” “Well, Mrs. Hurst, I hear your son John has gone to Australia.” Wagon was like any other, but the whecls | HEARD AT THE CAPITOL] ALKALI IKE AND HIS TOWN b sh Ex-Congressman” Payson of Illinols says he is out of politfrs’‘but when asked the other day by a f: whether he thonght the democrats of] his state were for or against silver, said: “I believe that four out of five Illinois demidc¥ats are for silver, and it is the same way,In Indiana.” Judge Pay- son also expressed the belief that the IIl- nois delegation to: the Chicago convention would be for a white metal man for Presl- dent. ya “Devver tell you,” began Alkall Tke, im a reminiscent way, addressing the inquiring gentleman from New England, “about the Way that.Lop-eared Watkins paid his jong standin’ debt of gratitude to the Hon. Phunk Skee? Say I didn’t? Much obliged! “Tell you how it was: This yere fatter man had saved the other felier’s life at the risk of his own, under sech cuspicious cir- cumstances, so to speak, that Lop-eared couldn’t never forgit Lim for it. From what I’ve read I judge that, in the east, when a man saves aicther man’s life the rescued man pulls out his wallet, clears his th’oat an’ hands his preserver sech a sum, from a dime up, as he flatters himself his life is worth. Or, mebby, he invites him up to the house an’ gives him a glass of cider —an’ usual it is good cider, too. All of which is sattsfactory, if you happen to be built that way. “Out _yere, some feller cal! y is to say nuthin’, the rescuer knowin’ that the rescued man will retaliate if he ever gits a chance, an’ neither party considerin’ that any promises are necessary. “But this yere Lop-eered Watkins was somewhat different ficm the common run of men, an’ the debt he owed the Hon. Plunk Skee weighed upon him. He couldn't, somehow, rest easy till he had paid it, an’ the longer it ran on the more uneasy ne got. He was continually on the watch for a chance to break even with his preserver, an’ at last he became positively officious in the matter an’ tcok to doggin’ his benefactor around an’ campin’ on his trail perpetual, lookin’ for a chance to dis- charge nis a2} “Several times they came mighty near comin’ to blows over Lop-eared’s grateful Persistence. The Hon. Plunk wasn't no more touchy than common folks, but no geni admires io have another gent dubbin’ around after him continual, hungerin’ an’ thirstin’ for some calamity to befall him s0 that he can git a chance to rush in‘an’ do the handsome thing “For a long time Lop-eared didn’t have no luck at all, but continnered to hover arount the Hon. Plunk’s suburbs an’ trust in Prov’ severance Was rewarded. One dark night as the Hon Plunk js sa’nterin’ home to roost someboily hops unexpected around a convenient cor- ner behind him an’ breaks his head, a rib or two and three or fou: legs for him with a club, beats him to a quiverin’ jelly gen- erally an’ comes mighty near leavin’ him in pieces all over the surroundin’ neighbor- A job printing establishment of this city is preparing to turn out between two and three million copies of Congressman Towne's speech on the silver gubstitute. It is under- stood that the silver men consider it the strongest speech made in either erd of the Capitol on the monetary question. The printed speech fs to be given widespread cir- culation. * Speaking of the visit of Governor Cutber- son to the city, a prominent Texan said to a Star reporter: “The Culberson family has been more honored by the lone star state than any family in it. Judge Culberson, you know, is a member of Congress, and has been for years. He can have anything he wants in my state. He has two sons. One is the governor of the state and the other is district attorney for the western district.” Governor Culberson is not more than thirty- five years old, and is one of the youngest chief executives the state ever had. in the lcundless west, 2d it, the prevailin’ w as A party of mony qisitors were passing through the Senate end of the Capitol the other day, when one began to whistle a low tune. “Don’t whistle, please,” ald an attend- ant. “Is this a cathedral or the home of a Euro- pean potentate, that a man can't draw hi breath hard without being called dow! asked the somewhat irate visitor, but the attendant answered that he was enforcing the rules. * * * The rule forbidding smoking in the hall of the House 4s violated by a large number of the men who voted to make It. Door- keepers and pages request all persons not so fortunate as to be Congressmen to cease smoking, but they never molest a member when they see him indulging. He can smoke until he becomes black in the face, if he is so disposed. There's a queer little old woman who haunts the Congressional Library. She never asks for a book, but walks into the alcove nearest the door and selects some 014 book in leather binding with queer “f’s”” and “‘s's” and sits down to read. She doesn’t seem to care much about what she reads or how she reads it, for she as often reads backward as forward. She has soft white hands, of almost childish size, though she is. stout and short, and she dresses in old-time finery of nearly forty years ago. Laces as yellow as the pages of the book she reads fall around her hands from the sleeves of an old linsey-woolsey dress, and the velvet in a queer old sack she wears must have cost $10 a yard. As she reads she sways back and forth slightly, as though keeping time to a “still” rhythm. She seems to be the connecting link between this and a past era, but she never was known to speak to any- body, or anybody to speak to her. * It hain’t long till yere comes Lop-eared Watkins an’ thankfuily picks up the Hon. Plunk, packs him off in triumph an’ beis him down in the best room in the hoiel bridal chamber, no less. Thar wasn’t nut in’ too good for the injured man. Dr. Slade would have been ample for him, but on doctor was a heap too Insign‘ficant in th estimation of the grateful Lop-eared. Nuth- in’ would do but that he must have all the medicine men in the ccunty swarmin’ around the bed of paint “Poor Plunk was in mighty critical shape, an’ when the doctors announced that they'd have to saw a piece out of his skull an’ mortice in a silver plate Lop-eared was 80 pleased that he daiced for joy. He stuck an’ hung for a slab of silver about three times as big as the biggest piece that the most extravagant doctor in the gang was witlin’ to put in—nuthin’ was too rich for the man who had once saved his life. “The doctors overwheliumed Lop-eared after a lorg an’ interestin’ wrangle, an’ he cdmpromised with ‘em by havin’ the watch tinker ergrave the fol.erin’ mctto, sur- She was a nice, Sweet-faced elderly wo- man, who looked‘as though she might have been one of the workers all her life. She was attired plainly but neatly in a season- behind-the-times gown, with plain bands of slightly gray hair put smoothly back un- der her altogether-too-large-for-the-fashion bonnet. Beside her sat a fine-looking, showy girl, attired sumptuously in the latest fads of fashion, but wearing her clothes with bad grace. Both were listening to a plain, small-faced man on the floor, who was reading, In a shrill falsetto, from pt held in one hand, and awkward- stures with the other Nobody wes listening. Finally the woman turned to the younger, and “They don’t seem to pay much attention to pa, do the: And the gir] said, With a toss of her giddy young head: “No, indeed; he is mighty small potatoes down heré. But we get the name and the salary, just the same, and it sounds big at hom But the gentle wife only looked pained and said, “Daughter,” in a remopstrating kind of way, and leaned over the gallery, absolutely the only person in all that vast House who seemed to hear a word the little man was saying. the silver plate before it was put in place: ““Presented to the Hon. Plunk Skee by his Jovin’ friend Lop-cared Watkins.’ “For right smart of a while poor Plunk's life hung in the balance, as they say in stories, an durin’ that time his lovin’ friend bragged that if he was snatched from our micst by the cold hand of death, as it were, he'd give him the hottest obsequies, the longest funeral procession an’ the tallest tombstone ever seen in Hawville. Durin’ the time that his prey was lingerin’ along, uncertain whether to live or die, he hov ed over him day an’ night, an’ wore hiin- self almost to skin an’ bones watchin’ an tendin’ him. '‘I'his went on til finally the Hon. Piunk was able to set up in bed an’ partake of spoon vittles. One day, about that time, I’m trackin’ upstairs to see him, an’ when I'm about half way up, I hears sort of a hooraw of some kind in the sick room an’ tw: three pistol shots; an’ then yere comes Lop- eared boolgin’ headlong down the staii Tuns over me similar to a whole stampede, tumblin’ me plumb down to the bottom an’ then skins out of the hotel as the crow files. “I collects myself an’ cripples up stairs to Plunk’s room an’ finds him propped on the pillers with his six shooter, clutched in his wasted hands. > “Did you meet Lop-eared Watkins? says e. * “Ts that my coat you are getting Into?” asked C. P. Huntington of Dave Littler, as the two were getting ready to leave the room of the Senate committee on commer-e, after the conclusion of the Pacific railroad hearing the other day. “Not much,” replied Mr. Littler to the multi-millionaire; “it's a better coat than you ever had on.’ “That isn’t true,” interjected ex-Repre- sentative Payson, who had come up, “for he came very near getting away with mine the “Believe I did,’ says I, pawin' my per- son over for fractures. " “Whatever was the matter with him; he ‘peared to have been sent for in great haste? “I was endeavorin’ to gun the mizzable, low-down wolf,’ says he, savagely, ‘but I waS too shaky. Ike, If you have ony sympathy for a poor, bedridden cripple, you'll go out an’ shoot up that cuss for me to the best of your ability!” “Looky yere, Plunk,’ says I, )plenty stern, ‘don’t you think you are actin’ kinder danged funny, to say the least— tryin’ to shoot up a philanthropist who has done you as white as he has? Bur- cussed if I ever had the pleasure of wit- nessin’ sech base ingratitude “Don't talk to me about base ingrati- tude’ says he. “That thar wolf shore done me white while I was helpless—an’ I give him credit for it—but, dad burn him, he's the primeval cause of my bein’ in this yere condition’ ‘I want to know,’ says I, throwin’ up my hands in astonishment. “Yes, by jing! It was him that fell on me with that thar club in the first place an’ mangled me up, jest in order to put me in a position whur he could pay his debt of statitude to me. An’ that’s the—by gosh reason that, if he fs still in the settlement the first time I'm able to come a-cratchin’ it out, I'll ventilate Lop-eared Watkins so that the jay birds can-fly right through ae “““Mebby he meant well,’ says I, sooth- in’ says he. ‘Look at this ¥ere coffin plate in my skull an’ then tell me if you think I'm too hasty with my gun? Gosh hang it all! Think of my havin’ to wear that thar obituary to the end of my days an’ bein’ the laughin’ stock an’ mock of the whole civilized world! Think of havin’ the public readin’ my title clear on a tablet embedded in the top of my head! I'm a marked man for- ever! = Ur-r-r-r-r!’ ‘Don’t excite youself!’ says L carm, an’— = “Be carm! he snorts. ‘Kah! You talk like a man with a wooden leg! Go on out of yere an’ leave me to bear my cross in sollytude an’ grow a new crop of hair to cover up that thar guideboard as best I can.’ An’ that’s how Lop- said Mr. Littler. investigation, I safe with such a man fter listening to this judge nothing is about.” * ok Ok “Speaker Reed is the most American of all the candidates for President,” said one of his admirers. “He seldom rides in a carriage to the House, but walks or boards a street car. He may have put aside some of his wit, but he is always courteous and pleasant to friends he may meet anywhere. “Did you ever notice that peculiar eleva- tion of his right arm, or rather crook in the elbow, when he is walking? Well, he has had that habit ever since he was a boy. * ok OK “Boston 13 the best democratic city in this country,” said Representative Pat- terson the other day after his recent visit to that town. “They run things on a gen- uinely democratic schedule up that way, and can be depended on to stick to the party every time.” Mr. Patterson thinks there is no place like Boston. He blushes more violently than usual when he ts told that his name is coupled with that of Mr. Olney as the proper team for the demo- cratic nomination at Chicago. x Kk A number of Congressmen were talking the other day about the use of money among the colored republicans of the south at national conventions. The con- versation then turned to whether the re- cipients of the money did what was wanted of them. It was agreed that in many in- stances men who received money to vote a certain way often voted another, or did as they pleased. “Well, I know of one plan that will al- ways bring them to time,” said one of the party. “You all may know of it, but, any- how, it i$ a dead.sure thing. The first I heard of it wasy@ars ago, when a certain prominent Senatog was a President-maker in an extensive He was one of the men who prevenled the nomination of Blaine, and was present at the convention. There were efor men from the ‘Be ‘Also Sey Le _ eared Watkins pai is debt of utud to the Honorable Plunk Skee.” oo ——+e+___ THE HOOM-PAH HORN. Peculiarity of an Instrument Former- ly Used by the Marine Band. “The Marine Band, now the pride of the nation’s capital,” said an old musician to The Star writer, “had but few brass instru- ments except bugles when it was organ- ized. Indeed, there were but few brass in- struments in use in these days, for cornets, alto horns and tubas are comparatively new. I remember to have seen the Marine Band marching through the streets of this city, led by six violinists, with two or three violas, a fiddle in size between the ordinary violin and the violoncello. Nearly all the other instruments were reed, flageolets and clarionets, with an occasional French horn. The big attraction of the band for street parades was a chime of bells, which were carried on a big stick above the player's head. He shook them as the band marched along, and made a great deal of noise if not music. Cymbals, drums, bass and snares, were more in evidence as features than they are now. The Marine Band had the honor and credit of inventing what was called the hoom-pah horn. It was a horn of immense size. It was not intended so much for musical purposes as it was to carry off plunder. Whenever the band offi- e:ated at receptions, banquets and the like the bandsmen packed it full of good things for the children at home.” ——__ Be Comparison. From Life. “Don’t you think the atmosphere in our theaters is vileT” “Yes, but purer than on the stage.” south, and the¥S ted money. Well, this Senator was lostied with $50 and $100 biils, and made many agreements with the col: ored delegates. When they came up for their stuff he wowld take a pair of scis- scrs, cut a $50 00 bill in two, hand one end to the aeloa ho had made the prom- ise and keep the other himself. ‘When you vote as you have agreed,’ he would say, ‘come back to me, and I will paste the two halves together, and the bill is yours.’ He eee failed tofmake a delegate keep his word.” ee More Tumbling Than Skating. From Truth. Muggs—"Can't you skate without tumbling down?” cut yet.’ THE WORLD rounded by a wreath of touch-me-nots, on | know. Said he'd be—confounded if any wife of his made a fool of herself in—ra- tional dress, before a gallery of roughs, vee Dar THERE hy SUAS Ine the truth.” Phillippa (with more tears)—“Did he? really?” Did he (There is a pause. Uncle John reads his paper unmoved.) Phillippa (timidly)—“T think, uncle, I will “rite to the secretaries, and say I have not been well lately. I think I should like @ change.” Uncle John—“Abroad, my dear?” Phillippa—“Yes, and we needn't mention Physical development to anyone we meet.” Uncle John. ot for worlds, my love. Suppose we go to Nice. Charlie has his yacht there. Do you think Nice will do?” (@hillippa thinks it will. It does.) ——_-22—__ A REMARKABLE FAMILY. WE LIVE IN From Black and White, Phillippa, New, and Uncle John, Fat, Forty and not such a fool as he looks. Scene—A drawing room in Suburbia. Uncle John (putting down his newspaper as Phillippa enters)—“Very glad to see you, my dear. Enjoyed myself immensely, thank you. Delightful yacht; French cook; choppy sea. Can't believe I have been away three months. Quite well—dear? That's right. And jogging along pretty much the same as usual, I suppose?” Philippa (seating herself opposite in a stratght-backed chair, and with dignity)— have ceased to jog, uncle, for the past nine weeks.” “What—eh? Ceased to jog, Uncle Johi my dear? Very enterprising of you, I am sure. Struck out a new line, I suppose. Gone in for a slum, perhaps. Very nice thing a slum, I am told. Dirt, drink and socialism most picturesqu Phillippa—“You are mistaken, Charity 1s so old-fashioned that—” Uncle John—“That you have written a novel. Very clever, Indeed. There is a certain delicacy and refinement about lady’s novel that no man to my thinking, not even a Frenchman, has ever attained. Not a novel? Rights and wrongs from a platform, perhaps. Such a charming speaker, my dear Phillippa, convert me tc anything. Phillippa. You will oblige me, Uncle John, by being as little frivolous as pos- sible. Charity is piayed out, as 1 said. Every one writes novels, and woman's rights are not attracting * * * much atten- tion. I have gone in for the physical devel- opment of our sex in fields (both actual and metaphorical fields, as our leader says), which men have hitherto usurped for their exclusive possession—and I am prepared to meet unflinchingly any amount of opposi- tion which you may offer the cause in per- A Mountaineer Patria: Soclologic Tendencies. “Speaking of family prid remarked the drummer to a Star reporter, “I stayed all night at the house of a mountaineer in West Virginia last summer, who had more pride in his family than anybody I ever heard of, and I've Leen on terms with the puritans and cavaliers for twenty years. This old fellow was past seventy, and was quite well to do, as that quality is known in the mouniains. He owned a good house of six or seven rooms, and could show a clear title to five thousand acres of land, and was a school trustee. He also owned a store, and I went to see him to sell him some goods. I had heard a good deal of him and his peculiarities, and I made It convenient to reach his place late in the day so he would have to keep me over night, as was his custom with strangers, for he was a hospitable old chap. “My scheme worked well, and when I left, the next morning, I had his history and that of bis family, and an odder one, I think, you will confess you never heard of. He was seventy-two years old, and had been matried four times, his ‘first mar- riage occurring when he was only eighteen. His first wife was his cousin, his second was a widow with five children, his third was @ young woman, the daughter of his son's wife (a widow), and the last one w the stepdaughter of the widcw his father had married. By these several wives he had twenty-cight children, which, added to the five stepchildren, gave him a family of thirty-three boys and girls, including three pairs of twins, and one lot of trip- lets. Two of his boys had married the Gaughters of the widow whose husband the old nan was, and one of his daughters bad married one of her son: At this point the drummer took a paper = his pocket and read it over care- ully. The writer Icoked his question. “it’s all right,” he laughed. “I haven't earned it thoroughly yet, and I was just polishing up my memory. I've got the whole thing written down here just as he told me. The oddest part of it is to come. The old man had in some way imbibed pe- culiar notions from some book or other ke had found on sociology, and had or- ganized a small society of fam‘lies think- ing as he did. One idea of these people as that of the advantages of early mar- riage, and when his son was only about twelve years of age he married the boy a girl of the same age, and each year for several years after that one of these child marriages was celebrated. “Their children, in turn, were marricd at the same early age, and they were grandparents before they were thirty. In fact, one couple at twenty-six dandled a grandchild on their decrepit knees, and at forty they were greatgrandparents. The Same story, very nearly, could be told of the others, and some time before the old patriarch was seventy he could look back over four generations of posterity. And it was a generous posterity, too, for all over the patertal acres the houses of the children and children’s children dot- ted the hills and valleys. Of course, among so many, death could scarcely get by with- out touching some, and when I was there there were only twenty of the original thirty-three left, and even the old man couldn't tell how many grand, great-grand and great-great-grandchildren there were attered about him. They were all ex- cellent people, too, and far above the general mountaineer average of large families.” “That's a timber country, isn’t it?” asked the reporter, with apparent irrelevance, — the drummer stopped to get his t uncle. Uncle John (resting his news| stout knees and looking up)— From me! What in the world should have made you suppose that, my love? I oppose you? Not at all. On the other hand, a cause as noble as the one you have named claims ah my sympathy. Physical devel- opment, my dear! What more reeded in a ¢ of persons who can get into No. 3 shoes and No. 6 glove: I am not perso- nal in the least, I assure you, Phillipa. All women take three In shoes and six in gloves, you know—or they say they do, which fs the same thing. Yes—yes, Phil- Mppa, I can promise your cause my most zealous and devoted support.’ Phillippa (rather taken aback Ly a re- ception which totally differs from her ex- pectations)—“I am glad of it, uncle, as, of , if you had disapproved I should compelled to act without your ‘Certainly—my love—certain- ‘And have not, indeed, waited for it, in that I was, I trust, a not ineffi- cient member of the winning team in the public foot ball match of which you may have seen an account, in the papers a few weeks Lack. Uncle John—“To be sure I i. A vulgar and prejudiced account, if I 2m not mis- taken—but still an account, and in the pub- ic press. Dear—dear me—what a yroud I Think I Should Like a Change. Not any more, in of it has been cut of “Um-—er,” hesitated the reporter, “why doesn’t the old man get a mill and saw up ais family tree?” ——_—.-— Bex of a Car. From the Philadelphia Record. Three bright-looking girls stood at the corner of sth and Chestnut streets yester- Gay afternoon, waiting for a car. There bad evidently been a block out Chestnut street, but finally a car was seen approach- ing in the distance. The three girls ex- ciaimed in unison: moment it would have been if I could have turned on all those ill-bred scoifers at Nice (British gentlemen, too, they called them- selves) and said: ‘Gentlemen, beware! My niece is a member of the Ladics’ Foot Bail Club! Disrespect it at your peril!” Phillippa—*You would oblige me and a ao few other members, uncle, by substituting women for the more antiquated ord, aoe Incle John—“You can rely upon me, my love, never to call you ladies again ‘And Were you much damage] at the match, Philippa? Legs much bruisea?, Shins cut about at ali?” Phillippa—(rising and with withering dig- nity)—“Uncle!” Uncle John (hastily)—“Excvse me, my love! I assure you I should never have mentioned anything so improper, but that my own recollections of the game are ex- clusively connected with the iifelong harm done tomy —. Don’t ve alarmed, Phillip- pa, I should not dream of repeating the words—to my—in short, you know. Any one killed at the match?” Phillippa (with an irresistible note of alarm in her volce)—“Kitied, uncle! What in the world should maxe you suppose that? Uncle John (casuaily)—“Oh--one of tho players generally {s, you know! UDarger adds to the excitement—don't you think?” Phillippa (rather faintiy)—“Yes. But. of course, foot ball isn’t the only way—of de- veloping ourselves, uncle. I practice that, certainly, a good deal by myself in our back garden, but—what ure you laughing at?” Uncle John—“Laughing, my love? Not at all. It’s this confounded cough I caught on board. Phillippa (reassured)—“And there's bi- cycling, you know.”" Uncle John—“Capital sport that—capital. Very glad you go in for that. Saw a young fellow—by-the-by, I am not sure it wasn't a young woman—on Reigate Hill last sum- mer spinning down at a Leautifal pace— came off, head over heels. Picked up—life extinct. Sad, of course—not uausual. Wear trousers, Phillippa?” Phillippa (outraged)—“Uncle!" “Uncle John- beg your paradon, my love, I am sure. Er—how are you clothed for these sports, I mean to say? Phillippa—"We wear what delicate-mind- ed people call a rational dress. Then there’s hockey. We play that against men, Power of a Lightning Stroke, you know. ‘And if they aid hot cheat most | Dr. Grottewits in a German Review. orrribly, any at your—ankles on r= I know we should win sometimes: mig ngs quacteaee arepochediny wegen Uncle John—“Of course, my love, of | force of a stroke lightning in ree- course. Fine game, too. Ever seen Robert | power. During a recent storm which pass- Matthews?) No? Well, I'm glad of it.| ed over Klausthal, Germany, a bolt struck Front teeth, nose, upper lip broken in one | wooden column in a dwelling, and in the match—in another, jaw, collar bone, and a two wire nails 5-32 finger, Still it’s a fine game, hock tcp of this column were two gam inch in diameter. The electric fluid smelted Phillippa (rather tremulously)—“ the two nails instantly. To melt eee ae roe eee | tnia Store sitas vous be Senpeseens ta-ehe seem dangerous according to you. I'dont | thi believe it. What about chccers largest furnace now in existence, and it DORE SSsSKSs We 0 8 tee eae bee moceeelianed ain tae B08 or for that.” cle John—“Not much danger there, | electricity, but a current 2 amperes and a Disfiguring only. Know a young fellow | potential of 20,000 volts would be neces: who had his nose flattened—young woman | sary. This electric force for one second represents 5,000 horse-power, but as the Wouldn't marry him. Black eyes with beef steaks on them for weeks. lightning accomplished the melting in con- mas Seo te erate bene tne bey 2 ot meena more than that.” Philippa (with some follows that the bolt was 50,00 horse- “However dangerous power. one can deny that men: physical devel A locality. The best “Here “3d comes!” ‘Then they fell to laughing at the various genders which taeir fancies had bestowed upon the car. The one who had given it the masculine gender offered to bet soda water for the crowd that she was correct. The wager was eagerly taken, and just then ths car reached the corner. “You see, I was righi exclaimed the first girl. “It's a_male c: And so it was. Then they adjourned to the nearest soda water fountain and both the losers treated. se0 Advertising by Telegram, From Truth. London was treated last week to a novel development in the art of advertising. Ladies in all quarters of the metropolis re- ceived on Monday morning a telegram from a well-known West End drapery house, an- nouncing that ““——‘'s sale is now proceed- ing.” I question whether this new de- parture is likely to be highly successful from a business point of view, and very few persons will wish it success. The tele- grams seem to have been handed in at the Central telegraph office at 8 o'clock, and one gentleman tells me that his wife, being very ill, was woke out of her sleep about 8:30 to receive this telegram, which was naturally assumed to have reference to some matter of urgent importance. This is hardly the way to make a business popular, and I trust, therefore, that we shal! not see it extensively imitated. _ slight vexation)— these games are no they are splendid for Uncle John—“He would be a fool who dia. Why, my dear, you'll be pleased to know notice quite a change in you already. Hands larger and redder. Feet getting quite—rational. A month or two's training on raw beef steaks and that kind of thing and we shall have you as tough and hard as a prize fighter.” Phillippa (dissolving into tears)—“You needn’t make it sound so hideous as that.” Uncle John—“Hideous! Not at all. Seen with the physically developed eye it is beauty. As for muscle—ever seen those pictures of Sando: arms, Phillippa? 1 assure you you needn't despair of getting yours like that in time with your foot ball, and cycling, and cricket and hockey. And though they won't perhaps have that soft, plump, little out-of-date prettiness that only does for a ball room—considered phy- sically developy, if I may use the term, they will be splendid.” Phillippa (still somewhat moved)—“And what horrid things the undeveloped girls will say about them.” Uncle John—“Oh, that wouldn't matter. Not more than the horrid things the Great Unwashed shouted at the foot ball match, and the underbred journalists wrote afier- wards. And as for really disgraceful things —Charlie’s remarks—you remember your Cousin Charles—about the foot bail women {ef course, he did not know that you piay- ed), were quite unfit for publication.” Philippa (rather eagerly with heightened color)—“I didn’t know that Charlie proved of physical progress.” Uncle John—“Oh! he's quite effete, you ——— The Outside, of Course. From the Philadelphia Post. A wealthy young lawyer spent two days and two nights over one case, and at the time could not tell which side = one It was a case of champagne. ———--e+- Mr. Pench’s Patent Matinee Hat, From Punch. Fitted with binocular of those