Evening Star Newspaper, April 4, 1896, Page 15

‘Nearly everybody_in New Orleans knew bid Easter, the candy woman. She was very black, very wrinkled and very thin and she spoke with a wiry crack- bd volce that would have been pitiful tw hear had it not been so merry and so von- Stantly heard in the funny high laughter that often announced her before she turn- fd a street corner, as she hobbled along by horsolf with her old candy basket balanced on her head. People who had known her for years sa:d hat she had carried her basket in this way for so long that she could walk more com- fcrtably with it than without it. Certainly her head and its burden scemed to give her lees trouble than her feet, as she picked her way along the banquettes with her Stick. But then her feet were tied up in so many rags that even if they had veen ycung and strong, it would have teen hard for ker to walk well with them. Some- times tho rags were worn inside her shoes Bnd sometimes outside, according to the shoes she wore. All of these were begged or picked out of trash heaps and she was not at all perticular about them, just so they were big enough to hold her old rheu- matic feet—though she showed a special lang for men’s boots. When asked why she preferred to wear boots she would always answer promptly: “Ter keep off snake bites,” and then sne Weuld almost certainly, if there were list- eners enough, continue fn this fashion: “You all young trash forgits dat I dates back ter de snake days in dis town. Why, When I was a little gal, about so high, I Was walkin’ along Canal street one aay, bare feeted, an" not lookin’ down, an’ ter- fectly I feel some’h’n’ nip me ‘snip!’ in de Dig toe an’ lookin’ quick I see a great pig Tattlesnake”— As she “stip,” the street children who were gathered around her would start ard look about them, half expecting to see @ great snake suddenly appear upon the flagstones of the pavement. At this the old woman would scream with laughter as sne assured them that there we isands of serpents there now that they couldn't see, because they had only S-rgle sight, ard that many times when they thought mosquitoes were biting them, ¥ were being ““tackted by deze heah Onvisille snakes.” It is easy to sce why the children would gather about her to listen to her talk. Nobcdy knew how old Easter was. In- eed, she did not know herself, and when any one asked her, she migat say, “I ‘spec’ I mus’ be ‘lg’ about or, “Don't you reckon I mus’ be purty nigh on to nineteen?” And then when she saw from her questioner’s face that she had made a mistake, she would add quickl: “I means twenty-fo’ hund’ed, hone twenty-f OF “I means a hund’ed an’ nineteen,” which latter amendment n> doubt came nearer the truth. Having arrived at figures that seemed to be acceptable she would generally repeat it, in this wa “Yas, missy; I was twenty-fo’ hund’ed years ole 1.s’ Easter Svnday.” The old woman had never forgotten that she hac been named Easter because she was born on that day, and so she always claimed Easter Sunday as her birthday, and no amount of explanation would con- vince her that this was not always true. “What diffence do {t make ter me, ef it comes soon or late, I like ter kno’ she would argue. “Ef it comes soon I gits my Birfday preseats dat much quicker—an ef it comes late, you all got dat much mo’ time ter buy me some mo’! ‘Taint fur me ter deny my birfday, caze it moves round!” And then she would add, with a peal of her high cracked laughter: “Seem ter me, de way I keeps a-livin’ on +en' a-livin’ on—an’ a-livin’ on—maybe deze heah cllp-aroun’ birfdays don’t pin a pus- son down ter ole age so close’t as de clock- work reg’lars does.” And then, if she were In the mood for it, she would set her basket down and without L:fting her feet from the ground go through a number of quick and comical mevements, pcsing with her arms and body in a way that was absurdly like dancing. Old Easter hac been a very clever woman in her day and many an extra picayune had been dropped into her wrinkled palm— robedy remembered the time when it wasn’t wrinkled—in the old days, just be- cause of soms witty answer she had given While she untied the corner of her hand- kerchief for the coirs to make change In selling her candy. One of the very Interesting things about the old woman was her memory. It was really very pleasant to talk with a person | Who could distinctly recall Gen. Jackson and Goy. Claiborne—who would teil blood- curdling tales of Lafitte the pirate and of | her wonderful experiences when as a young | girl she had served his table at Barataria. | if, as her memory failed her, the old | creature was tempted finto making up/ ries to supply the growing demand, it | Would not be fair to blame her too severely. Indeed, it is not at all certain that as the years passed she herself knew which of the marvelous tales she related were true and | which made to order. “Yas, sir.” she would say, “I ricollec’ when all dis heah town wasn’t nothin’ but @ alligator swamp—no houses—no fences— Do streets—no gas pos’es—no "lection lights —no river—no nothin’ If she had only stopped before she got to the river she would have kept the faith of her hearers better, but it woudn’t have been half so funny. “There wasn’t anything here then but you and the snakes, I suppose?’ So a boy answered her one day, thinking to tease her a little. “Yas, me an’ de snakes an’ alligators an’ Gineral Jackson an’ my ole marster's gran- daddy an" —" “And Adam?” added the mischievous fel- post still determined to worry her if pos- le. “Yas, Marse Adam an’ ole Mistus, Mis Eve an’ de great big pisonous fork-tailed snake wha’*snatch de apple dat Marse Adam an’ Mis’ Eve was squabblin’ over— an’ et it up!” When she had gotten this far, while the children chuckled, she reaching for her basket, that she had set down upon the banquette, and lifting it to her head, as she walled her eyes around myteriously she added: “Yas, an’ you better look out fur dat D’isonous fork-tailed snake, caze he’s agoin’ Foun’ hear right now; an’ de favoristest dinner dat he craves ter eat is des sech no ‘count sassy questionin’ street boys like you is." And with a toss of her head that set her basket swaying and a peal of saw farted off, while her that the laugh was It was sometimes hard to know when Easter was serious or when she was amus- ing herself, when she was sensible or when @he wandered In her mind. And to the thoughtless it was always hard to take her Seriously. Only those who, through all her miserable Fegs and absurdities, saw the very poor end pitiful old, old woman, who seemed al- ‘Ways to be companionless and alone, would fometimes wonder about her, and, saying @ kind and encouraging word, drop a few ¢oins in her slim black hand‘ without mak- her lower her basket, or ask her to all at the house” for some old worn flannels or odds and ends of cold victuals. And there wire a few who never forgot heir Easter which, as | black boy, who begged Rona egsten any one had cared to insist upon knowing how she lived or where she stayed at nights—? He might have followed her—at a dis- tance. But it is sometimes very easy for @ very insignificant and needy person to rebuff those who honestly believe them- selves eager to help. And so, when old Easter, the candy woman, would say, in answer to inquiries about her life, “I sleaps at night ‘way out by de Metarie Ridge cemetery an’ gets up in de mornin’ up at de red church. I combs my ha'r wid de latanier an’ washes my face in de ole in,” it was so easy for those who want- ed to help her to say to their consctences: “She doesn’t want us to know where she lives,” and, after a few simple kindnesses, to let the matter drop. The above ready reply to what she would have called their “‘searchin’ question” prov- ed her a woman of quick wit and fine imag- ination. Anybody who knows New Orleans at all well knows that Metarie Ridge ceme- Se > = STeaweney tery, situated out of town in the direction of the lake shore, and the old red church, by the river side, above Carrollton, are several miles apart. People know this as well as they krow that the latanier is the palmetto palm of the southern wood, with its comblike many-toothed leaves, and that the old Basin is a great pool of scum-coy- ered, murky water, lying in a thickly set- tled part of the French town, where num- ters of small sailbcats, coming in through the bayou with their cargoes of lumber from the coast of the sound, lie against one another as they discharge and receive their freight. If all the good people who knew her in her grotesque and pitiful street charac- ter had been asked suddenly to name the very rest and most miserable person in New Orleans they would almest without a doub: have immediately replied, “Why, old Aunt Easter, the candy woman. Who could be poorer than she?” To be old and black and withered and a beggar, with nothing to recommend her but herself, her pocr, insignificant, ragged self, who knew nobody and whom nobody knew, that that was to be poor, indeed. Of course, old Easter was not a prefes- sional beggar, but it was well known that before she disappeared from the streets every evening cne end of her long candy basket was generally pretty well filled with loose paper parcels of cold victuals, which she was always sure to get at certain kitchen doors from kindly people who didn't care for her poor brown twists. There had been days in the past when Easter had peddled light porous sticks of snow-white taffy, cakes of dainty sugar candy filled with fresh orange blossoms and dainty pralines of pecans or cocoanut, but one cannot do everything. One cannot be expected to remember Gen. Jackson, spin long, imaginative yarns of forgotten days and make up-to-date pra- limes at the same time. If the people who had ears to listen had known the thing to value, this old, old woman could have sold her memories, her wit and even her imagi- nation better than she had ever sold her old-fashioned sweets. But the world likes molasses candy, and so old Easter, whose meager confections &rew poorer as her stories waxed in rich- ness, walked the streets in rags and dirt and absolute obscurity. An old lame dog, seeming instinctively to know her as his companion in misery, one day was seen to crouch beside her, and, seeing him, she took down her basket and en eatines him from her loose paper par- cels. And once, but this was many years ago, and the incidert was qnite forgotten now, when a crowd of street fellows began pelt- ing Crazy Jake, a foolish, half paralyzed along the streets, Easter had stepped before him, and, after receiving a few of their clods in her face, had struck out into the gang of his tor- mentors, grabbed two of its principal lead- ers by the seats of their trousers, spanked them until they begged for mercy, and let them go. Nobody knew what had become of Crazy Jake after that. Nobody cared. The poor human creature who is not due at any par- ticular place at any particular time can hardly be missed, even when the time comes when he himself misses the here and there where he spent his miserable days, even, perhaps, having no one else, misses his tormentors. It was a little school girl who saw the old woman lower her basket to share her Scraps with a street dog. It seemed to her @ pretty act, and so she told it when she went home. And she told it again at the next meeting of the particular “ten” of the King’s Daughters of which she was a mem- r. And this was how the name of Easter, the old black candy woman? came to be written upon their little book as their chosen object of charity for the coming year. The name was not written, however, without some opposition, seme discussion and considerable argument. There were several of the ten who could not easily consent to give up the idea of sending their little moneys to an Indian or a Chinaman or a naked black fellow in his native Africa. There {s something attractive in the sav- age who sticks bright feathers in his hair, carries a tomahawk and wears moccasins upon his nimble feet. Most young people take readily to the idea of educating a Pic- turesque savage and teaching him that the cast-off clothes they send him are better than his beads and feathers. People at a distance may see how very much more interesting and picturesque the old black woman Hester was than any of these, but she did not seem so to the ten good little maldens who finally agreed to take her for their own, to find her out in her home life and to help her. ‘With them ‘t was an act of simple pity, @n act so pure in its motive that it was in itself beautiful. Perhaps the ‘dea gained a little following from the fact that Easter Sunday was a} Proaching, and there was a pleasing ness In the old woman’s name, as it was proposed as an object for their Easter of- ferings. But th‘s is a slight consideration. Certainly when three little maidens started out on the following Saturday fnorning to find the old woman Easter they were full of interest in their new object, and chattered like magpies, all three to- gether, about the beautiful things they were going to do for her. Somehow, it never occurred to them that they might not find her either at the Jack- son street and St. Charles avenue corner or down near Lee circle, or at the door of the Ae on Moe are jut whe was at ni cher haunts, and they did not find her all that day—nor for quif week afterward, oy had inquired of the grocery man at the cor- net where she often rested, of the portresses of several schools where she sometimes ped- died her candy at recess time, and at the bakery, where whe occasionally bought a joaf of yesterday's bread, but nobody re- membered having seen her recently, Several people knew and were pleased to tell how she alw: jtarted out in the direc- tlon of the swamp every evening when the gas was lit in the city, and that shi out over the bridge along Melpomene atree! stopping to collect stray bits of cabbage leaves and refuse vegetables where the bridgeway leads through Dryades market. Scme sald that she had a friend there, who hid such things for her to find, under one fe the stalls, but this may not have been rue, It was on the Saturday morning after their first search that the three Rttle Daughters of the King started out a second time, de- termined, if possible, to trace old Easter to her hiding place. It is a shabby, ugly and crowded part of town in which, following the bridged road, and inquiring as they went, they soon found themselves. long time it seemed a fruitless and they were almost discouraged when across a field, limping along before a half-shabby, fallen gate, they saw an old lame yellow dog. It was the story of her sharing her din- ner with the dog on the street that had won these eager friends for the old woman, and 80, perhaps, from an association of ideas, they crossed the fleld, timidly, half afraid of the poor creature that at once attracted and repelled them. But they need not have feared. As soon as he knew they were visitors, the social fellow began wagging his little stump of a tail, and with a sort of coaxing half bark, asked them to come in and make themselves at home. Not so cordial, however, was the shy and reluctant greeting of the old woman, Easter, who, after trying in vain to rise from her chair as they entered her little room, mo- tioned to them to be seated on her bed. There was no other seat vacant, the sec- ond chair of the house being in use Hy a crippled man, who sat out upon the back Porch, nodding. ae: As they took their seats the yellow dog, who had acted as usher, squatted serenely in their midst, with what seemed a broad grin upon his face, and then it was that the little maid who had seen the incident recognized him as the identical street dog who had shared old Easter’s dinner. Two other dogs—poor, ugly, common fel- lowe—had strolled out as they came in, and there were several cats lying huddled to- gether in the sun beside the chair of the sleeping figure on the back porch. It was a poor little home, as poor as any imaginetion could picture it. There were holes in the floor, holes in the roof, cracks everywhere. It was, indeed, not considered, to use a technical word, “tenable,” and there was no rent to pay for living in it. But, considering things, it was pretty clean. And when its mistress presently ré- covered from her surprise at her sudden visitors she began to explain that “ef she'd a’knowed dey was comin’ to call she would ‘a scoured up a little.”” Her chief apologies, however, were for the house itself and its location, “away outside 9’ quality neighborhoods in the swampy fields.” “I des camps out here, missy,” she finally explained, “because dey’s mo’ room an’ space fur my family.” And here she laugh- ed—a high, cracked peal of laughter—as she waver her hand in the direc:lon of the back pereh. “Dey ain't Yhobody ter pleg Crazy Jake cut here—an’ him and me wid deze here lame an’ crippled cats an’ dogs, why we sets out here an ’talks together in de evenip's after de “lection lights is lit in de tower yonder and de moon is lit in de sky. An’ Crazy Jake—why, when de moon's on de full, Crazy Jake he can talk knowledge good az you kin. I fetched him out here about a million years ago, time dey was puttin’ him in de streets—caze they was gwine hutt him. An’ he’s mighty smart, gits him rignt time o’ de moon! But mos’ ginally he for- its.” Sctt I hadn't a fell an’ sprained my leg las’ week de bread it wouldn’t 'a mos’ give out, like it is, but I done soak down de in- sides 0” some ole condense milk cans an’ scak de dry bread in it for him an’ to- morrer I’m gwine out agin. Yas, tomorrer I'm bleeged to go, caze, you know, tomor- rer dat’s my birfday an’ all my family dey looks for a party on my _ birfday— Gon’t you, you yaller, stub-tail feller you! Ef he warn’t sort o’ hungry I'd make him talk for you, but I ain't learnt him much yit—he’s my new comer!” This last was addressed to the yellow dog. “i had bline Pete out here till ‘istaddy. I done adopted him las’ year, but he struck out agin beggin’ caze he say he can’t stand dis heah soaked victuals. But Pete, he ain't rale bline, nohow. He's des gat a sinkin’ sperit an’ can't work, an’ im caze a sinkin’ sperit what ain’t got no git-up to it, hit's heap wuss 'n blineness. He’s got deze heah yaller-whited eyes an’ when he draps his leds over ‘em an’ trim- bles ‘em, you'd swear he was stone bline, an’ dat stuff wha’ he rubs on ’em it’s in- ju’ious to de sight, so I keeps him and takes keer of him now so I won't have a blind man on my hands—an’ to save him fom sin. too. “Maam? What you say, missy? De cats? Why, honey, dey welcome to come an’ go. I des picked ‘em up here an’ dar caze dey was whinin’. Any breathin’ thing dat I sees dat’s po’er 'n what I is—why, I fetch ‘em’ out once—an’ dey mos’ ginally stays. “But, if you yo'’ng ladies will come out d'reckly after Easter Sunday, when I got my pervisions in, why, I'll show ou how de ladies intertain dey company, in de old days when Gin’ral Jackson ter po’ de wine.” Needless to say there was such a birthday party as had never been known in the lit- tle shanty on the Easter following the visit. of the three little maids. ‘When old Haster had finished her duties as hostess, sharing her good things equally with thore who sat at her little table and those who squatted in an outer circle on the floor, she remarked that it carried her away back to old times when she stood be- hind the governor’s chair “while he h'isted his wine giass an’ drink ter de ladies’ side familiar, ous Y ress ——s ... ..,, THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, APRIL 4, 189 ” curl And c! Jake said “Yes,” he re- membered, too. he began to nod, ‘while blind P that to his tyes “the purtiest thing &bout.de whole birfday ‘Hester te re party wae de.bo'quet o* itlies in de middle o' de table.” , —ar— 4. WOMAR}S ISLAND. Three Times as Many, Women as Men at Tristan, 4a; ‘Cunha. Fiom the Boston From tho isolated in the South Atlan eagle, Napoleon, wag.gugcded, though 1,800 miles distant, on longly §t. Holona, comes by faraway, roundabout means the strange tale of life withou6” communication with the reat of the world*for'Mix months, and a bit of history Ina corm y; ity in which wo- men outnumber the men by such a major- ity that they may ‘compel obedience. by force, {f necessary. The news from the group of Tristan da Cunha, the'three Uttle islands midway between the Cape of Goud Hope and the coast of South America, came througb the captain of the ship: Dartford, who says that tn about latitude 87 degrees 5 minutes south and loiigitude 12 degrees 16 minutes his vessel was signaled by a small boat. The yards of the Dartford were backed and a boat came alongside. In it were several men and a quantity of potatoes, eggs, milk and penguin skins. The men offered the fresh produce and the skins in trade, saying they wanted cloth- ing, tea, rice, suger and flour from the ship’s stores in exchange for the articles they brought from their island home. They told the captain that they depend on pass- ing vessels for the provisions. they named and for clothing, and that the inhabitants of the islands were in.dire distress, because for six months not a boat had succeeded in Failing a ship. The population of the island of Tristan da Cunha, as reported to the captain of the Dartford by the men in the boat, is six- ty, the women outnumbering the men in the proportion of three to one. Therefore there are forty-five women and fifteen men. The group consists of three tiny volcanic isles, Tristan, the largest, being seven miles in diameter (in the center being a mguntain 7,600 feet high); Inadcessiblé,’ about two miles across, and Nightingale Island, a baby islet, just big enough to hold two hills. The islands have been under the British flag since 1816, though, as the men in the boat told the master of the Dart- ford, no European government had paid any attention to them in the memory of any of the inhabitants. When Napoleon was at St. Helena, 1,300 miles distant, a British garrison was stationed on ‘Tristan, but was withdrawn after the death of the exile. Corporal William Glass, his wife and family and two private soldiers were per- mitted to remain on the island when the garrison was withdrawn. ‘The population had Increaesed to sixty people, some of the accessions being due to shipwreck and some to desertion from whaling vessels. ————_—_+e+ RIGHTS OF EXPLORERS, ot. w ‘oup of little islands Whence the caged Mr. Lubouchere Fails to See Why Savages May Not Be Exclusive. From the London Truth. Among the few spots on the face of the earth which have managed to keep them- selves out of the grip of Evropean aggres- sion {s the plateau of Thibet. This the Thibetans have so far achieved by abso- lutely forbidding any foreigner to enter their country. They foresee, I take it, that, ‘ones admit the “explorer,” and you will find. coming hehind kim the missionary, be~| hind tiie missionary thé trader, and behind the trader the scldier. oa edie They judge from whut they see and hear that the only way to preserve political in- dependence against the encroachmenis of alized” foreigner—Briton, Russian, or whoever he may be—is to prevent him from getting a footing in the country’ under- any preteat. That they are right in this, the history of every “non-civilized” people abundantly proves. Last week, before the Royal Geographical Society, Mr. St. George R. Littledale re- counted,to an admiring audience the result of an Organized attempt on his part to break through the exclusiveness of the Thibetans, and penetrate to Lhassa, des- Pite the objections of the people. For this purpose ke fitted out an amateur expedi- tionary ferce. His party entered Thibet thirteen strong. among them being a party of-Pathans armed with rifies and revol- Wien they reached the more thickly pop- ulated region of Thibet, they were officially ordered to retire, but persisted in advanc- ing. The Thibetans were evidently afraid to attack, but parties armed with swords and matchlocks rode alongside of the in- vaders. At a river ford the Thibetans :nade @ show of resistance. “A determined-look- ing individual” laid his hand on Mr. Lit- tledale’s bridle. The latter “whipped out kis revolver,” and ordered his men to load, but, on seeing that they meant to fight, the Thibetans again gave way. The invaders pressed on to. within. two marches’of Lhassa, where the Lamas came out in force with about 500 men and or- dered them to retire. So alarmed was the country that all the bridges between. this point and the capital were destroyed. At his" point, however, Mra. Littledale;~ who had accompanied the party, was taken ill, and her husband withdrew the “minimum demand” which he had formulated, that he should be allowed to enter Lhassa, and partly by threats and partly by diplomacy Succeeded in getting permission and as- sistance to pass through to Kashmir. I would respectfully ask what right has any private individual to fit out an armed expedition of this kind and attempt to force his way into a country the rulers and people of which, for excellent reasons, or- der him to withdraw? It sounds very fine and plucky, no doubt—though to all appear- ance twenty resolute and well-armed En- glishmen might subdue all Thibet in a few weeks. —————-+ee+___ HISTORY OF A FAMOUS POEM. How Mrs. Thorpe Wrote “Curfew Must Not Ring Tonight.” From the New York World. Mrs. Rose Hartwick Thorpe, who wrote the exceedingly popular poem, “Curfew Must Not Ring Tonight,” lives in a pretty frame cottage at Pacific Beach, near San Diego, Cal. When asked recently by a representative of the World to tell how she came to write the poem that has made her famous, she replied: “I cannot remember when I did not write poetry. I have done so ever since I was a child. My mother did not approve of my writing; in fact, she discouraged it. One day after school I went to my room. I had been studying the historic period of which I was about to write in my poem, and the incident impressed itself so strongly on my mind that I felt impelled to write about it. I was about half way through when my mother came in, saying a young friend had come to spend the afternoon and take tea with me. In great‘distress, I called out, ‘Oh, mother, can’t she wait a little while?’ My mother, thinking I was. solving a hard example in arithmetic, said she would amuse my friend ti#t I could leave. At last I finished it and put.it away. Two or three years later I wanted.a poem for publication in a Detroit paper, for which I had been in the habit of contributing: short poems gra- tuitously. I was unable: at the time to write, as usual, am:original poem for the next issue, and, on jookintg over my papers, found this one, which I. decided to send, though doubting its acceptance, as it was so long. A-day or two afterward I received a note from the editor ¢omplimenting my last contribution: highly; and prophesying for it great and immediate success.” “From this time on I shall believe in ghosts.” “Why so?” . “You know that ‘widower’ who has been devoting himself to me all the evening? Well, his dead wife appeared just now and took him home.”—Life, Ame ATS are che 6-TWENTY-SIX PAGES. tr 15 WIFE OF REV. CHARLES H, PARKHURST, She Tells How Paine’s Celery Compound Has Benefited tha Famous New York Preacher. Dr. Parkhurst’s best ald in bis untiring crusade against crime In the metropolis is his wife. In looking after her husband's health, Mrs. Park- hurst is doing more than all the members of the women’s campaign. ‘‘Am I worried about the tor’s health?’ says Mrs. Parkhurst. “Not at all. I feel that he 1s tired, but he recuperates, and I never try to hinder him from a plece of work, be- cause I feel he will have the strength for it. My greatest pleasure is in helping bim to carry out his ideas.” Mrs. Parkhurst ‘wrote to Wells & Richardzon Company, January 22, 1896: “Dr. Parkhurst has used Paine’s celery compound for two weeks with beneficent resulte. It has Lelp- ed to keep him up while very tired.”” In a subsequent letter to the eame druggists, on January 28, she said: “I am sure the Paine's celery ccmpound is doing Dr. Parkhurst guod. I am under obligation to Mrs, for briuging it to our notice.’* If it were possible to reproduce in cold type the emphatic tone in which men and women from every part of the Unnited States speak and write of Paine's celery compound, not a word more would be needful. Unfortunately, when published in the stereotyped exes of a dally paper, these enthaslastic letters can’t help losing part of thelr carnest, persuasive chara Paine's celery compound {s not «ne of the many sarsaparillas or nervines that manage to make themselves public, as far as thelr mere names go, but without making themselves known to suffering People by actval use. Paine's celery compound has been used and enthustastically recommended by the most judicious, considerate, careful men and women iu every city in the United States, as an absolute cure for nervous debility and exhaustion, neuralgia, sleepieseness, melancholia, hysteria, headaches, dys- pepsia, rheumatism, kidney trouble, and all blood diseases. It is the best rpring remedy in the world. Bright and breesy April days have a stronger charm of hope about them than any other days of the year. Now is the season appointed by Nature herself for new growths, und a casting-off of the old parts that have served thelr purpose, and are outworn and diseased. That terrible throbbing of the heart, the neuralgia, the beadche, the leaden weight over the eyes and in the forepart of the head, need only Paine's celery compound to vanish forever. Paine's celery compound has come legitimately by its present tremendous reputation, as an invig- orator, merve-regulator, ‘blood-restorer and body-re- cuperator, There in nothing experimental about it. No remedy in existence ever received such em- Phatic and plain-spoken testimonials from sick, ail- ing, tired and run-down men and women. It te no half-way cure that is attempted by Paine's celery compound, but a clean sweep of every trace of neuralgia, rheumatism, constipation, beadsche, dyspepsia snd blood impurity from the aystem. Take Faine’s celery compound in the spring to Durify the blood, strengthen the nerves and make health! “JOHNNY ON THE SPOT.” A New Phrase Which Han Suddenly Become Popular. From the New York Sun. Current additions to contemporary slang find their way Into popularity by odd means. An expression once made and often repeated Sets finally a sort of vogue, especially if it seems peculiar. The grammatical genesis of “Johnny on the spot” cannot be traced very clearly, but the phrase certainly originated from the longer and less expressive one, “Johnny is always on the spot when wanted.” A “John- ny on the spot” is a man or youth who may be relied upon to be at a certain stated place when wanted and on whose assured appearance confident expectation may be based. It is not sufficient that an alert and trustworthy individual, to be thought d serving of the name “Johnny on the spot should restrict his beneficent activity to the matter of being at a certain place when needec. He must, in addition, render such service and attend to such business when there as the occasion mzy require, and such a “Johnny” must be on the spot not merely to attend to the business of others, but also to look after his own. Hence an individual who is prompt and farseeing, alive to his own interests, and keenly sensible of means for promoting his own advantage, is a “Johnny on the spot.” The expression is, to some extent, a variation or rather a con- tinuation of that other phrase “he gets there.” The expression, ‘Johnny on the spot,” has come into popularity very suddenly, and it will probably go out of popularity after some pretty hard usage in paragraphers’ columns, variety theaters, campaign speech- es and cheap plays, in an equally unconven- tional way, but until a successor is found it is likely to be in pretty general use herea- bouts. ————+eo_. CAPTURED A SHARK. And Found in Its Capactous Ma’ Paper Addressed to Himself. From the London Answers. “One afternoon, when we were in the In- dian ocean,” said the captain, “I noticed a shark swimming round the ship, and I didn’t like it a bit. You know the supersti- tion to the effect that a following shark presages the death of one of the ship's company. He sailed round us all the next day, and the next after that, and I deter- mined to catch him and quell my uneasi- ness. We baited a hook, and after a short time captured and killed him. Then we cut him up. Do you know what we found in that shark’s inside? No? Well, a news- paper, unopened, and it will surprise you, as it did me, when I tell you that it was addressed to me.” A shout of great laughter went up from the captain’s audience, who winked at each other unblushingly. He, however, took all the bantering in good part, and when the Jeers were ended he said: “Now, gentlemen, I'll tell you how it hap- pened. I found that my children had been Skylarking the day before in the cabin. They found among the mass of reading that had been brought aboard some un- opened newspapers addressed to me. They had been throwing these newspapers at each other, and one of them went out of the porthole. The shark saw it, of course, and gobbled it down; and that was how it happened. Now, gentlemen, judge for your- selves the truth of my story: —__+e<+____ Supposed to Know. From the Yonkers Stateman. A doctor may be able to speak but one language, but he is supposed to have some knowledge of all tongues. A NEW DISCOVERER OF AMERICA. Did His Work About the Year Colum- bus Was Born. From the Geographical Journal. To sum up briefly. The shortest route from the old world to the new is from Cape Verdi to Brazil. Winds and currents tend to carry a ship across. There is, therefore, an inherent probability that a Portuguese vestel should have been driven on to the Brazilian coast. This actually happened to Cabral in 1500, It might have happen- ed at any time after ships began to round Cape Verde. That cape was first rounded in 1445. In 1448 a remarkable map was made by Bianco, showing the most recent Portuguese discoveries. On it a long stretch of coastline is shown southwest irom Cape Verde, with an inscription say- ing that it is authentic, and 1,500 miles to the west. The only land in such a position is South America. The discovery must have been made between 1445 and 1448, It is recorded that an unknown island was found far to the west in 1447. On the first map dealing with the Atlantic ocean after Bianco’s map, a large island is found in the position indicated by Bianco. The Portuguese kad good reason for not trou- bling much about such an island, until the papal bull of 1493, with its line of demar- cation, when their conduct leading to the Tordesillas treaty of 1494, by which the line was shifted so far that they secured Brazil, seems to have been based on knowl- edge of the existence of land in the posi- tion of that covntry. Moreover, there is evidence to show that they publicly claim- ed the possession of such knowledge. If the views here set forth are tenable, the interesting and important result is ob- tained that America was discovered by the Portuguese in or about the very year in which Columbus is believed to have been born. Without removing one iota from the real merit of Columbus, it would add the crowning laurel to the already great glory of that marvelous man, Prince Henry the Navigator, who, it is pardonable to remem- ber, was half an Englishman. ——_~-e+____ Experiment With Marked Salmon. Last year twenty-six salmon, caught after a freshet at a boom in the Weser river, near Oeynhausen, were marked by introducing a numbered clamp of the kind used to fasten Papers together in the large fin on the back. Circulars were then sent by the German fish commissioners to all people interested along the river that these twenty-six salmon had been returned to the river, and in the interest of pisciculture it would be desirable to know when, where and at what weight the fish were caught again. Until recently but two of these fish had been caught, one of which had ascended the river fully sev- enty-five miles, while the other was caught at a considerable distance below the point where they were first taken and returned to the wet element. Both of them had in- creased in weight and size, the respective data having been given to the fish com- missioners. Two weeks ago three of the fish were caught together by one fisherman at the mouth of the Weser river, where at season salmon will ascend the stream in schools. Considering that it is nearly a year and a half since these fish were return- ed to the river it is certainly very strange that three of them should be found together now. ——_+-e+___ Irish of It. From the Chicego Record. “Marie, what are you doing up on that stepladder—and why don’t you have Nora Wash the windows?” “Because, if she falls and hurts herself Pll have to do her work.” —= VICTORIA’S DESCENDANTS. Sixty-Three Are Living and Ten Have Died. From the Gentlewoman. A laborious genealogist announces, as the result of years of minute labor, that the queen nas had nine children, of whom she has iost two; fcrty-one grandchildren, of whom eight have lived; and twenty-three great-grandchiidren, of whom are living. She has, therefore, sixty-three descendants Lving—seven children, thirty-three grand- children and twenty-three of the next gen- eration. Her next eldest great-grandchild, the Princess Feodore of Saxe-Meiningen, is ncw nearly seventeen, so that in all prob- ability her majesty will live to see her grindchildren’s grandchildren. Few Eng- lish sovereigns before Queen Victoria have seen grandchildren grow out of infanc’ and none ever saw a great-grandchild. Hence, her majesty had to determine the question of precedency in the case of the Dechess of Fife's children, and she wisely aecided that they should rank only as daughters of a duke. This decision was in accordance with a house law decreed earlier in the reign, by which the title of prince and royal highness is limited to the children of the sovereign, and the children of the sovereign’s sons, the children of the sovereign’s daughters tak- ing precedence only according to the rank of their fathcrs. Thus the Princess Hel- ena’s chiidren rank as children of Prince Christian only, while the Duke of Con- naught’s are royal highnesses, and Prince Arthur of Connaught’s son and successcr, if he has one, be the Duke of Con- naught, as an ordinary duke, taking prec dence merely by date of the creation of his dukedom. Thir is now the case of th Duke of Cumberland on the roll of the house of lords, though he is styled royal highness as son of a King of Hanover. —+-e+—____ Due to Cigarettes. From the Yonkers Statesman. He—“Oh, dearest, I have lost everything I ever had.” She—“There! I always said those horrible cigarettes would rob you of your brains De Jones—"T hear you're going to ok ‘Miss Smith, Congratulate you on your taate.”” Brown—“‘Oh, no! that's all off, Not going to marry at all.” De Jones—“Congratulate you on your good sense."—The Sketch,