Evening Star Newspaper, April 4, 1896, Page 16

aut S Abie ws T¥ Ati U6 TAS THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, APRIL—4,--1896—T WENTY-SIX ‘PAGES oS MEDICINE, NOT A DRINK. CONTAINS Hops, Buchu, Man- drake, Dandelion, And the Purest and Best Hedical Qualities of all Cures All Diseases of the Stomach, : Bowels, Blood, Liver, Kid= s neys and Urinary Organs, Nervousness, Sleeplessness, especially Female Com- plaints. * $1,000 IN GOLD Will be paid for & ease it will not cure or help, or for any impure or injurious found therein, Take no Substitute, Send for our Puzzle. Hop Bitters, 685 Broadway = —— = = HOW HARD A GUN KICKS. Results of Tests Under Different Con- ditions Carried on in Engiand. The London Field prints the results of tests with a 12-gauge gun weighing five pounds thirteen ounces and having 2s-inch: barrels. One ounce af shot (210 pellets) and thirty-eight grains of No. 4 black powder made up the charge used for bot barrels. At forty yards the right berrel put an average of 123 shot into a 30-inch circle, the number varying from % to M4 The average velocity of the shot was 1,152 feet @ second over the first ten yards, a varia- tion from 1,132 to 1,172 being noted. ‘The left barrel averaged nine feet more a second, and put eight shot less into the cle. Both barrels registered the same gas Pressure, 1.38 tons to the square inch, but the kick, or recoil, was £10 of a pound greater from the left barrel, which also gave the grestest speed. The recoil from the right was 27.3 foot pounds. hirty-seven grains of powder behind pellets or five-eighths of an ounce of shot put 11¥ of them into a 30-inch circle at forty yards, showing a_velocity of 1,152 feet a second, anda recoil of 225 foot A. gas pressure of 123 tons was eveloped. The kick of a gun is always of interest to a sportsman. On it depends much of a duck hunter's sporf. Ef Its gun kicks like t sives him a violent: ‘headache, ot increasing it till at last he feels e-y heart beat was a cannon shot is head to pieces. Many a day’s is lost by the users of excessive charges in gens of too big a bore. In England there are two classes of spertsmea—the big-gun and the small-gun users. The hig-gun users go out to Kill, the other to enjoy themselves and to kill a little. The big guns are from ten gange up to one gauge. A big small gun is a twelve gauge, while an American firm makes a gun with 4tcaliter shot-barrels. The 20- gauge gun is considered the best all-around small bore gun by most Engiishmen. pee SS PLUME HUNTERS IN FLORIDA. Handsome Birds Exterwlaated Ornament the Heads of Women. The Forest and Stream some time ago called attention to the plume hunters, who were killing off Florida's handsome birds im spite of jaws. Commenting on this the Indian River Advocate, published ot Titus- ville, Fla, says that the statements made are only too true, and that “with the birds gone Florida would lose balf its charm.” Showing what these plume hunters have done the Advocate says: “There was a time waen the shores of Indian river abounded with all kinds of water birds, which might be seen lazily flopping along the margin or resting on the trees which line the banks. Where for- merly there were a hundred it Is now a Tare occurrence to see one, and this is oc- casioned pagtly by all-shooting fun seek- ers and mostly by the plume hunters.” The trouble of It is with the plumers that they must necessarify kilt at the most harmfui time. Lt is in the spring of the Year that the birds assume their most lovely colors and plumage, the males being the more gorgeous. This is because the females choose the most attractive ones for husbands, and it is because of their beauty that the hunters kill them off. ‘Fhese beauty feathers ies: till after the nesting. and it is on the nesting grounds that the gorgeous birds are killed, leaving the starving nestlings to die miserably. ‘This work has been going on for years, and it is safe to say that the most hand- some of Florida birds have been practically exterminated to crnament the -heads of to women. —_———+ee_______ Musical Mera. Sifter. The minister, Parson Downcouch, was at inner with the Chaffle family. Johnnie spoke up and said: “Can 2 church whistle?’ “Why do you ask, Johnnie?” asked the clergyman, kindly. “Because pa owes $12 back pew rent, and = says he is going to let the church whis- tle.” After the clergyman had taken his de- Earture there was a vocal solo by Johnnie. = = WHERE WOMEN RULE. Refuses Be Disturbed When the Baby fn Teething. - From the Chicago Post. The messenger came in haste. “Madam,” he said to the president of the beard of county commissioners, “your pres- ence is urgently requested—” “I can’t come,” she replied, promptly. “I was told to impress upon you,” per- sisted the messenger, “that it was a matter of the greatest importance—” “T can’t come,” she repeated, sharply. “The affairs of the county are in @ most perilous condition—” “Let ‘em stay in that condition,” she in- terrupted. “Your signature is needed to various docu- nents that—” “Send ‘em up here and I'll sign them if I get time.” ‘a “You have not been to your office for near- ly_2@ week, and—", “And probably won't be theré for ‘aifother week,” she said, withasperity. ...., “There are at least a dozen men and wo- men who have been there every. day to see you on pressing official business that will no longer brook dela: “it will have to. In despair the messenger made his last ap- “Madam,” he said, “owing to your ab- serce the business of the codiifity is practi- cally at a standstill, We will have to, clos up the building ugless some provision is made—* “Close it,” she exclaimed, angrily. “Do anything you please with it, but don’t bother me when I have more important matters to attend to. The baby Is teething, and I shall a here until the poor little thing feels etter.” i @ The Oldest British Trees. From the London Star. ‘The oldest tree in this country is the yew- tree at Braburn, in Kent, which is said to be 3,000 years old; while at Fortingal, in Perthshire, is one nearly as old. At Anker- wyke House, near Staines, is a yew-tree which was famous st the date of the sign- ing of Magna Charta, 1215, and later was the trysting place of Henry VIII and Annie Boleyn. The three yews at Fountains Ab- | bey are at least 1,200 years old, and be- neath them the founders of the abbey sat in 1132. There are no famous oaks that rival any yew in age, 2,000 years being the Greatest age attained. Damorey’s oak, in Devonshire, which was blown down in 1703, had this distinction. Cowthorpe Oak, near Wetherby, Yorkshire, is said’to be 1,600 years old. i —_—_eo+___ Shee Cabinets. From the New York Sun. The furniture makers are showing a beau- tiful article of mahogany an@ giaxe, which reminds one of the cabinets for bric-a-brac, but it is more substafitial and its legs are shorter. It is made to hold a woman’s shoes and to stand across the corner of her dressing room. One Easter bride has such @ cabinet well filled, and it is an impert- ant feature of the trausseau. Her cabinet has three plate glass shelves, and a drawer which holds the polish and small articles for repairs. Om the top shelf is a row of slippers for evening wear. The next shelf holds the patent leather ties, the cloth top boots with big buttons, and the stout ‘little calf ones for street wear. On the bottom shelf is rather a motley group—cycle shoes, riding boots, tennis shoes, tan_ boots, hunt- ing boots, and soft Indian moccasins of tiger skin, beaver trimmed. — See een Live Craterw at: Auetiow. From the Chicage Tribune. _ A curious piece of real estate soon to be avetioned off at the exchange in London ecmprises the frechold of the Island Vol- caro, in the Mediterranean, with numerous mountains and two live craters. The is- lend Is one of the Aeolian group, off the ncrth coast of Sicily; and is five miles long by two and a half broad. , Vines and fig trees flou-ish on ft, and the opportunity is a fine one for scme rich man-who loves ‘Theocritus and would like to have an sland home a:l to himself—“reolining ‘on the mountain side, with our flocks feeding telow and the blue Sicilian sea’ in the dis- tance. The sly terrier and the thick-headed bull dog.—Fliegende Blatter. HOMES OF THE POO Pauline Pry Makes Some Oalls Among “the Submerged.” "| SCENES OF WRETCHEDNESS AND WA A Trip With the Secretary of the] rough tae” Associated Charities. HOUSES IN THE ALLEYS ._ TOOK AN OBJECT lesson in sociology the past went slumming with Secretary Wilson of the Associated Chari- ties. We spent an afternoon with the “submerged,” I en- deavoring to learn and he endeavoring to show me what is our duty to the poor. Secretary Wilson a < few months ago pub- lished an article setting forth so logically the mutual good to be derived from giv- ing, not alone our alms, but ourselves, to the poor, that, in accordance with a sug- gestion made in the same article, I wrote to the Associated Charities for the name and address of any needy one they had on hand, fully determined to try this altru- istic doctrine on the dog myself. But, alas for the presumption of a pessimistic min ‘With the path of. social advancement il- lumined by information of the street and number and name and worthiness, of a family in reed, I hadn’t the courage to budge an inch along the upward way. Not all the acquired nerve and invention of @ Rewspaper woman served me a particle. “How do you do, madam; I have learned from the Associated Charities that you are in want.” “What busiriess is that of yours?” “I am sure I don’t know; I beg your par- don. Good afternoon.” Consideration for the Poor. That was every bit as far as I could get to rehearsing my part as a social reform- er, and to think of just sailing in and trust- ing to luck or inspiration to put me on the Tight track after I got there, this was impossible, because of the deep-seated re- spect I have for the right of even the poor to possess their own in privacy, though their own be nothing but wretch- edness. The habit of judging others by one’s self pursues one, and myself, when I’m wretched, I want to be let alone Job’s boils hurt none the less under the pressure of a touch, though the touch be that of a friend. Besides, if nothing’s done, there's the one certain hope of relief that death alone can bring. But suppose this other woman be different —suppose she would jump at any chance I might offer to divide her misery with me what could I give her in exchange? “My poor woman, I am very, very sorty for you. It is very, very hard to*be a widow, but think how much better off your husband is. He was hanged? No matter; he’s dead at all events, and it is customary to consider everyhody dead as being happy, so never mind, but think only how much worse it would be if he were livin: Oh, yes} I dare say you do suffer. I know it is ve very painful to have an empty stomach. I was hungry myself once—indeed, yes—and it hurt. But, my dear, poor woman, I ute something then and it made me sick. Just try to realize how much better it is to be hungry than to be sick—and the child, it does suffer—I can see that plainly. Ne/er- theless, it might have been twins, you know. Fancy two babies moaning instead of one, and four others crying for bread instead of three. Truly you have a great deal to be thankful for. Let us bless your luck, and be blithe. In the meantime I will send you some victuals and a few tracts.” Applied PhHosophy. That is about what I could do, if I were perfectly kind and helpful, but, being more honest than agything else, as a matter of fact, what I would do is,.on receipt of her wretchedness, to hold it up to the light, and, finding it no different from my own, speak | the truth. “You want the earth. So do I. Not the whole earth just at present, but. as much more than we have as either, from her point of view, can imagine. We'll never get it, but that is no reason why we should quit grabbing and fretting for it. All we ever can get ig sorrow. If you take enough of. this poor woman, by and by you will grow insensible, and then you don’t mind, and are practically as well off as if you wete happy. You might take opium or whisk: for the same purpose, but the effect is so lasting; it 1s mare expensive, and sorrow. is more respectable, especially for a wo- man.” You can readily sce how my netic vision makes abortive my every Altrutstle aspiration, yet when I had stated my case to Mr. Wilson and asked him to show me the poor, and the opportunity they offer from his point of view, he was tolerant oe pes bern a nine: tums of Washington are peculiar! lccated. They exist all over the city, in the heart of respectability and wealth, shut off from view in the center of squares that on the street offer a solid front of flourishing humanity. This general proximity of the rich and the poor throughout the city make the two classes natural neighbors, and that Mr. Wilson's scheme of charity does not, therefore, in the natural order of Christian relations rid Washington of a submerged class, is to be explained only by reflecting on how little proximity has to do with de- termining human affairs; and when the geod rich man prays to heaven that he may dove his neighbor as himself, heaven of course understands he means his neighbor who lives in streets, not in alleys. Haunts of Lazarus. The alleys into which Mr. Wilson took me extend through an irreproachable quarter of the northwest, and are entered from one of those small breaks in a street which we pass every day, never guessing nor seeking to learn that it opens a few feet on into the haunts of Lazarus and his kind. The poor in the section I visited are not de- praved, merely degraded, according to the law which governs the relation of morality and money. While Becky Sharp may have permitted the personal equation to unduly influence her calculation that £5,000 a year are necessary to perfect respectability, we nevertheless know that our system of ethics so depends upon our cash, or that potential cash called credit, that when the latter is a minus quantity, the problem of life speedily becomes a simple statement of animal needs, and the unknown quantity sought the where- withal to satisfy them. Then, by the pret- tily arranged steps of a purely mathematical process given human nature to find, the result is, firat, degradation, then depravity, then crime, and then the state enters into the operation and the submerged are raisei from their odious and menacing obscurity to form edifying statistics of penal institu. tions and the matter of capital punishment. Disappearing from the upper crust of so- ¢iety, Mr. Wilson led me along an alley that, inside the square, branched out, so that inclosed within the four sides of ex- terlor prosperity are three alleys built up on either side with houses in which Dives would not dream of quartering his dogs. Yet here abide men and women and little children. Dives must certainly renounce his faith in the Constitution of his glorious -, country every time he looks out his back windows, or continuing to believe that men are born free and equal, he must believe also that the creatures in the shape of hu- man beings in the alleys are not in truth heman. He also must forget his germ theory of disease, else pure selfish interest and defense against alley microbes would cause him to go down there and teach his alley neighbors home sanitation. For my- self, I don’t believe all men are born free and equal in anything but suffering, and I'm not afraid of germs, so these prods to charity are nothing on the elephant hide of ry egolstic soul. Going in Without Knocking. ‘Down through the midle of alleys where we walked was running a nasty-smelling, siuggish stream of muddy water. This is technically called surface drainage—prac- tically it means that from all these alley louses waste water is thrown out the back week, I| the luw, sfffl it was’ negatively with | us’ decor, to inte, t nd the over- flow'to eta Grain tetestreat “We as Wel 5 mal a a lea The way iu: of- Ing. I assumed that "Associated Charities iness, but the de- shrinking feminine he:.didn’t think it ’@ permission before thin edge to in as secretary of Mr. “Wilson knew sire was rampan’ nature to ask fift would be wiser t3” invading anybody's doing. At the e1 rowest, darkest my life, and ti have treaded tif fats ist i ry ‘a I j barynth of the sub- is_ stairway we ‘While I was fumbling with my volt petticoats, a door opened below, wee cated down— strictly in the sense 0} ERR words: bowever. Neith not sriywhere do the poor seem a BI right te Frese? Intrusion, and mi tioned u% with curlosity- and privacy. They d re “womarn tried z erty, and epresénited the dwer ofthe Yaw to her. She did not know that we were not evading While we gave evidence of having money in our pockets. '=' "~ x One Weman’s; Story. Under pretense of looking for a person hi named, Mr Wilson ‘cleverly induced’ the Wwoman-to talk about herself. She and her. husband lived in the one room. It was a tenement house’ of six rooms, and: each yoom, rented. for $2.65 a month. The stair- way was never lighted. At night “Some- times: they. uses matches and. sometimes they has candles, but most generally matches, to get up by.” Finally she: in- vited us into her room. Any reform that could ‘reach this wontan’s manner of Hving would have to begin with Madam Dives. ‘This room, about ten by six feet, contained the decorative horrors of a West End home so reduced in space that the ex- eessive adornment to be found in the palace of Dives here crowded a mass of tawdry fixings on one until breathing was almost impossible. The place was insufferably hot? | the, ane wiadow was so heavily hung with lace rags that the merest bit of light strug: the ground, the stifling atmosphere was jader with a musty smell; no human be- ing could be other than stunted physically and morally amid sugh surroundingsyet the woman not only had no complaints to make, but she was proud of herself and of what she had. I saw myself and my belongings in her and hers as in a broken mirror, and I realized as I have time and again that there is a “‘submerged” within each human heart that must be changed before society can reap a benefit from’any attempted re- form. Every desire I, or you, have and every effort I, or you, make to accumulate worldly goods are extending the influence of a common human nature that in the alleys diseases, and debases mankind with an accumulation of positive filth. ‘The Solution Discussed. “Weil, what. would you do with that wo- man?” I asked Mr. Wilson, as we were making our way from her place through a crowd of curious loafers, men, women and children, to the home of a woman who had been reported to Mr. Wilson as having so many children that it would be wise to take some from her. “There is nothing to be done with her,’’ Mr Wilson answered. ‘She is happy, she is industrious—she was sewing, you noticed. It is safe to leave hef-to the providence of the survival of the fittest.” cod providence?” E asked. es FS “Because WAtud!- rights’ Uo lnot~ pdoraft | Soctety exists arftd conditions arbitrarily established by legislation enféreed «by | htt man greed, and the struggle to exist is: not, @ natural nor a t one. Some of ihosé that have gone dawn in the warfare must be helped to their feet.” “Yes,” I answered, “but: the. modern ‘}scheme-ef charity aids only the .worthy peor. When is a man unworthy of! ase sistance, and doesn't this scientific acheme of charity necessitate an immense amouut of wretchedness that being unworthy is still painful, though beneath our notice?” | “it’s written in the law of God and of the development of society, if a mafi will not work, neither shall he eat,” answered Mr. Wilson. “Still,-E never assume to say a Person is unworthy of aid, though exper- fence in dealing with the submerged has taught me that, under certain .conditions, ‘|what.2 man needs most is more suffering.” ‘The woman Mr. Wiiscn sought..wag lean ing out the front window. of her house; im the door beside her stood a young girl nold- ing a bit of a baby, and four other babies, the oldest about five, were grouped on the doorstep. To this woman, as to the other, we represented law and order. She sub- mitted to us, but she hated us, as the sccwl on her face betokened. Honre of the Foor. Stil, Mr. Wilson has such genius for dis- arming the suspicion of the submerged, that by questioning the woman about the house and sympathizing with her con- demnation of it, she was soon talking free- ly about herself, and invited us to inspect her premises. The house contains four npoms, and rents for $3 a month. It is [ built on the ground with, the cellar, or | taundation; * Ys correspondingly d. the plaster is, - mesma jn the fremt.room, show- A ‘all, the plastering ng Gone directly on the bricks. The house, was -Rot-particufatly untidy, but the rear room opened into a small back yard of inde- acribable filth. The privy, in one corner, was in abominable condition, and the stench of a barnyard is healthful and pleas- ant compared with the smell that was here. The back gate opened into an aliey— an alley within an alley this—and here the waste water from all the houses along the row was poured in the ground in the man- ner I have described. A tin pail filled with garbage stood there, and stands there often iremptfed for two or three months at a time, the woman said. 5 ‘| -E returned to the house, sick at my stom- ach and sick si sheart, and ve Mx..Wilson, fon the way in, was'o absolutely withcut regard for. the-avwétul effect of cantzasts as ‘to ask the woman if she did not plant some flowers in-her yard in‘summer,= More pitiful still, she said she did, and it -re- quired all my will pewer to fix my mind solely on the fact that. flewers thrive on rot, and so might be kappy there, if noth- ing else on earth could. .Even the snapping, snarling, mangy cur that wanted to chew up my prosperity seemed to me to have a just grievance against the law and order that I represented. a The Baby Understood It. -.The baby, howé¥er, was apparently ‘the only living haing around.that. was.able, to. witéf into my frame of mind. The queer, wabblng, little btack 'thitig atit'f gob:goved at each other all, the facts of tha case, which no one élse seemed to perceive. said it was 4 furning shame she had ever been born, and she didn’t know what bu- man life amounted to-anyhow. ,Then, when I goo-gooed back to her that she might have the luck to die.during the suminer, I just wish you could haye heard her goo- goo to me all about how much babies can endure ard live through, and her utter lack of faith In any yfovidence that: world wee move her so soon from this vale of tears. She broke out crying after she had told me this, and while her mother and the rest be- Heved she had ‘the 6olic, ‘she knew and I knew it was nothing but the hopelessness of both life andi death that was troubling her. Tontte Mrs.° Wilson spoke! of the woman of the cheritabie soul®who!had aided her some during the winter, and had thought that she had too many children, “Mrs. C—,'*' ejwoulated the mother, “don't you spéak thet woman’s name to me, or I'll talktnor'n I ought to, certainly sure. Why, I went=up to get something from her thts winter) and when I told her I has five children, site totd me I wasn’t no better than a brutevor an animal; that I ought to be ashamed of myself, and went on talking likethat)till I had’ to run to keep ‘from @asstng her. I ain’t never been locked up m allémy life, but if I'd stayed in to hear that wohtan’more- certainly would have talked bakk till\I'd got arrested— that’s the blessed truth. Brute or an eni- mal, am I? Weil, Tiam, then. I got five childre: id I'se glad I has, and I'll have all the Lord wants me to have—you got to | have just as many as the Lord allows, and if it's twenty I'll take ‘sm, and if I starves they’A starve with me.” The woman admitted that she had to have help from the city last winter, and when Mr. Wilson genfly hinted that it was a shame to ask help, she replied: “I knew there was things there to be give away, and J wasn’t going to sit. here and keep my mouth shut while my children went hun- Sul, ehe Isughed at the idea ‘of being willing to part with any-of her. brood. “I. might let one go for two days, but the third day I'd be ao. ruesome I'd have to steal it if I couldn't get it back no other way.” inh f : Question of Saving. Her husband, she said, has employment @led.4ny the, house being built directly, on| “Why not ledve them ail! se the-sanie| now, and Mr. Wilson told her that the As- sociated Charities is going to arrange a Plan so that she can save something through the simmer for next whitet. The woman looked so ménacingly mystified at the mention of the word save’ that my heart went out to her, and I'm afraid I've put an obstacle in the way of reform in this home. “Why, how on earth can they save any- thing,” I said. “Don’t you know that when they are without money they get so out of everything that when a little money comes in it must all go to repair the past ind not to fortify the future?” The woman warmed to me for this de- fense of her improvidence, if improvidence it be, oo ceeieetee gece? any visible | cause, her face cl and she became so silently belligerent and inhospitable that we bade her good-bye. Outside the window was the explanation of her cooling friendliness—a hard-faced woman, who was muttering against us as We reappeared*in the alley, and whose in- fluence upon the other suggested that the universal brotherhood of the submerged is & bar to human progress with which the reform impuise of any individual is power- less to cope. As we went along to the next @ on our visiting Met 1 quarreled with Mr, Wil- son over his having pointed out to the wo- man that it was e shame to bom. “What on earth fs she to do?’ I asked. “If ske and her children are in want brute iratinct must triumph, and the hungry brute whines for hia meat and if whining does not bring it what else does he know but to steal?” “That is all right for a brute, but a hu- Man being is deficient in character that does not choose rather to suffer the pain of want than the disgrace of asking alms,” sald Mr. Wilson. “I: Is not a disgrace,” I insisted. “It is fatality, a man or a woman may choose such suffering for himself or herself, but when Iittle ones dependent on you are hun- gry, and you know there is food anywhere to be had for the asking, you beg as help- lessly as you dle if a wall falls on you. Be- sides, what can such people possibly com- prehend—I don't myself comprehend any- thing of the value of that e al abstrac- tion, character, as an end of suffering.” A Scene of Wretchedne Mr. Wilson assured me my pessimism was bordering closely on a creed of profll- gacy, but our discord grew silent at the door of the next hcuse we entered. There was no need to advocate suffering Lere, for freed even from the patn of hun- ger, there was wretchedness not te be es- caped py charity bestowed from any hu- man source. In two small rooms, the back one dark and the front one lighted by only one window that had nearly every pane filled in with paper instead of glass, lve a woman and five children, under seven years of age, and the woman is soon to become the mother of a sixth child. The father is in a lunatic asylum, where ke has been for the past three months. All the children except the eldest were huddled by the one dismal window, the woman her- self was stretched in a bed, covered with cingy quilts. She has supported herself and te nity. going out washing, the five-year-old girl taking care of the younger ones dur- ing her absence, and the absence of the eldest chtid, who attends school. Now, the woman fs unable to work. She is depend- ing on chance help during her confinement —depending on her children for nursing and on whatever professional service Prov- idence may dispense. The swift current of human {ll seemed to have stopped in this household, and grown stagnant, los- ing in a mire of distress even the motion of any sort of sensibility. The mother and the children were stupid, sfolld. I couldn't fae sorry for them, they so clearly felt nething themselves. I could fancy the hildren whimpering for bread, and I could fancy how the mother might strike them to husb their noise, and how they might then scream loudly, until the wo- jan would doubtless wish they were all dead, and it would not be strange if she should, some dark, stifling day, help kill them. Y’could fancy also the horror of hearing the wail of a rew volce added to their number, yet I knew perfectly shis was all my morbid imagination, and that life for these wretched ones is like my own Ife, inerely 2. suceession of sensations, with varying means of satisfying each in its turn. Mr. Wilson pointed out to me how lonely this woman was, end said surely I must see that I or anybedy could do good visiting her. I do not see it. The infinite difference between us would be but to change her solitude for the worse loneli- ness one feels among strangers. Soiled, Dingy Place: We went into one more house, but the last was the same as the first, and the second, and the third—all so many soiled, dingy pieces of the crazy patchwork of human life, that however the size, shape and color and quality of its various pieces may differ, is everywhere. in the alleys, in the streets and avenues, the same cover- ing of the same body of human misery un- derneath. One of the houses in a wretched row we learned is a mission, where reli- Blous services are conducted twice a week. It is grimly symbolical. A huge iron pad- jock securely binds the door of this dis- pensary of Divine grace, indicating the nat- ural barriers that intervene between the submerged and salvation for their souls. i When we emerged from the alley section we had traversed through three squares. Mr. Wilson wanted to know if I cared to enter another. I did not. It was no dif- ferent from other quarters of the sub- merged with which I have long been famil- lar, and my object lesson In sociology had taught me nothing new. The gentleness, the eas» with which Mr. Wilson is able to place himself in the channel of the inter- ests of the poor must command any oné’s admiration and profound respect. But it revealed to me no hope of any possible Utopia. “We've come tog late, the world Is swollen hard With perished generations and their sins. The civilizer's spade grinds horribly On dead men’s bones and cannot turn up soil ‘That’s otherwise than fetid.” "This, alas, must remain the conviction of the unprefitable soul of " PAULINE PRY. —_—___. Wash Tub Philosophy. From Judge. Mrs. Vansook (indignantly)—Mrs.O’Lone, the color all came out of my new table- cover on account of the horrible washing fluid you use.” Mrs. O'Lone (pacifyingly)—“Never moind, mum. Shure {t all wint into the other clothes, mum.” ‘ ——s@e- Another Case. 3} From the Cincinnati ‘Tribune. Ella—“Maud is going to masque in the character of ‘Night.’ ”” a Stella—“It will be another case of making night hideous.” Moral Courage. From the Atlanta Constitution. “Moral courage,” said the teacher, “is the courage that makes a boy de what he thinks is right, regardless of the jeers of ‘ais companions.”” “Then,” said Willie, “if a feller has candy and eats it all hisself, and ain't afraid of the other fellers callin’ him stingy, is that moral courage?” ———+e-+. The Pet Dog an Love's Meanenger. (A Student Trick.) From Fliegende Blatter. raat ~—A biscuit for eures. A treat a % an Re every one. A dainty for epi- for invalids.: They satisfy the nost fastidious appetite. They tempt the most pampered appetite. especially, find them most delightful, because they do not offend the weakest digestion. They're the lightest biscuits we've ever made, Sold by the quart. Invalids and dyspeptics alll erocers. THE NEW YORK BISCUIT COMFANY, Wholesalers. BALLAST FOR DUCKS. A Novel Contribution to the Fund of Scientific Knowledge. From the New Orleans Times-Democrat. “Few people credit a duck w'th the sense he really possesses,” said Fred. Ozenne, a disciple of Nimrod. “For years I have been wondering what had caused the presence of a good-sized pebble bank on the shore of the lake in the Grandivola section of the Louisiana marsh. Had it been a sand ic L cquid have understood it, but it was composed of pebbles, all very much alike, rounded ‘and smooth“almrest to a size, and apparently differing fromthe small stones found in the gravel beds of ee er he hunters in that section ha oan the’ pebble beach, and, Ike myself, they could not understand it. All winter long it seemed fresher than at other Sey and during the summer the grass, would kinde: cover its upper portion and the mu from the fresh water dim the luster of the stones near the ese. hee wes not an- in i otngne winter, in fact. it was just when the first cold spell had struck us, I was hunting with » friend ih the lake I spoke of. It. was Cog oed ducking ‘spots in the state. ‘wae béfore they had be- gun t :¢ glue frgm the eggs in Canada. When"we reached the lake there was not a duck to be seen. The next morning I was hiding in the grass near the pebble beach, when Ivheard a sound -of wings, and @ large flock of mallard settled near me. Be- fore I could raise my gun the entire lot walked out om the pebble bank, and, to my astonishment, began to disgorge a lot of smalketones like the ones already there. This occupied but a short time, and the flock began quacking and. sailed into the lake; and: i ¢hot, several. Th's settled the | the pebble beach. In the spring Pee weein hunting in the lake, and when the first warm weather came the ducks be- gan to go home. They would come to the each, and after a few preliminaries, swallow a lot of the pebbles, then fly around for a few minutes in order to see if their balance was all right. If they were too heavy they would disgorge a few stones, or if teo light swallow a half dozen yt found by observation that in order for the ducks to make long fights it was neces- sary for them to fill up with a certain number of stones to secure a proper equi- librium for the return trip. After I found this out I always had plenty of game to show my friends.” a CRACKER ENGLISH. Survivals of the Standard English of Bygone Generations. From the Chautauquaa. From negro English to cracker English is but @ atep. In fact, barring a few att-| ferences in accent and intonation, = speech, except where it shades off into the “galt water” lingo, or Africanized English of the seacoast, on the one hand and the quaint dialect of the mountaineer on the other, is- preatically the same throughout the cotton belt of the South Atlantic states, and its vocabulary is largely made up of survivals from the standard English of by- gene generations. In the classic pages of Burke and Goldsmith, of Swift, Fielding, Sterne and Addison, to say nothing of the clder writers, I am constantly running upon old acquaintances that I have known all my life as part and parcel of cur Georgia plantation vernacular. Fielding, for instance, makes a very near approech to the crackerism, “He allowed he'd do it, in sugh a as this: aes mutlence id your it frstice;” and when sues eh Rae “Ensiand to distur. sYorces,""‘he'is using almost the ogy of my cracker neighbor who has ¢ ‘to borrow-a peck of meal and politely, hopes that I am not “disfur- nishing” myself for his accommodation. Ili is stil occasionally heard, even among the better class of rustics, in the piney woods of Georgia and Alabama in its Shakespearean sense of dangerous or wick- ed, as “The copperhead is an ill snake, “Johnny is a very ill,” that is, naughty, “boy this morning.” I am told by a friend from Kentucky that the same usage, though rare, is not unknown among the same class in that state. To “favor, meaning to resemble, as “He favors his father,” was good English in the days of Addison end Shakespeare, and its de tive, ill-favored, is still current. - 28 Easy Work. From the Indlanapolfa, Journal. “I wants to git a white man arrested fer incendiary trespass or somlin,” said the perturbed colored gentleman. “What's up?” asked the policeman. “Man hired me to rake leaves out his yard, an’ when I was most froo he say, ‘Mose, dat wouldn't be no hahd wuk at all ef you wag doin’ jt jes’ fer fun, would it?” an’ I say, Dat’s so; wuk fer fun ain't neb- bah so tirin’ as wuk fer p: Den he say, ‘alt right; I des not pay you, an’ dat will mek tt éaster fer you. Always like to help poor labrin’ man along.’ Now, wouldn't dat jar you?” Burke.‘ nished of Ii ses. Why He W Absent From School. Frem the Chicago Reccrd. “Tommy, you didn’t come to school yes- terday sfternoon.” “Nom, there wuz a circus in town, an’ pa an’ ma an" Aunt Caddie, an’ Uncle Tom an’ Cousin Bob all wanted to take me.”” SESS TET OG Am Expert Statement, | Frm the Cincianatl Enquirer. “Is there any sure way of knowing when a man is meaning to propose?” asked the bud. ‘You needn't worry about that,” said the | vette. “The knowledge comes by nature. The most important thing is to know when he isn’t going to.” eae AA Complacency. From Vanity. Mrs. Bigwad—“It must be terribly embar- rassing to be as poor as they are; they never give anything te charity.” Mr. Bigwad—“But we don’t, either.” Mrs. Bigwad—“Well, they can't say that it is because we haven't got it to give.” ———_--re+____ 5 Golf ABC. From Puck, Florence—“What is the first thing you have to learn in golf?” Marion—“What to wear.” A Sort ef Mountain A Hipe Like a: From the London Field. The kipspringer is a kind of antelope found in Africa, being abundant in the mcuntainous regions as far north as Aby sinia, and if South African sportsmen re to be believed, he furnishes the finest kind of venison. These animals are about 42 inches ‘long and 22 inches high, and the males have sharp spike horns, sometimes five inches long. These animals are re- markable climbers, running on the tips of thelr hoofs, and going up rock faces appar- ently as steep as the side of a house. The — are made on the pneumatic principle, © nearly cylindrical, and cup shaped underneath, in order to break the fall by compressing the air. This came plan gives 82 extra firm bold on the rocks. They are the most remarkably built an- telopes, with a hip development equaled by no animal in America save the rabbi . which they resemble so very muci that a Sportsman seeing them going up a hill or in rapid locomotion might easily think they Were the biggest rabbits he had ever heard’ tell of, let alone seen. It is mot asserted that they sit upon their hind legs like the rabbit or hares, although it is possible that garoo on all fours, Capital sport is to be had hunting these | animals, the proper weapon being a 38-55 rifle, or a larger weapon. The hunting is, of course, among the rocky hills, and a man who has hunted the moun‘ain sheep successfully would find little trouble in kill- jing them. The shots are taken when the animal stands on sdme lookout rock. missed, he bounds from ledge to ledge on which the human eye can mark no footing, balancing at one moment upon the giddy | Verge of a precipice where barely sufficient space exists for the hoof to rest—all four boof pi would go on an English penny piece, according to one writer—and at the rext moment casting himself reck!: \y into the bottomless chasm, and pitchiag, as if by a miracle, upon some projecting peak. All of which would make the sports- }M™man think he was having lots of fun, In | spite of his efforts to keep from sliding into one of the bottomless canons, The animal's fur, or hair, varies some- what with the regions, being coarse, al- most like quills, in Somaiiland, and some- what finer in other parts, The mounted heads would make excellent trophies, while the yellow skin would make & neat wall ornament, as a background for, | S8¥. @ bow and arrow, model canoe, ,or elephant’s tusk. The hair is too brit! rug. It is much sought in Transvaal —-oo—____ Keeping Them of. From Life. , I should th'nk the tourists coming to pryghcci irons Sire. this lovely park "gal el Fiona northerner to the | _ “Well, they used to pick up the oleanders and steal my cocoanuts, but I put up that sign over there, and since that time they've respected my rights. The northerner walke@ over to the sign and read as follo' Please Do Not Irritate ‘The Rattlesnakes, ——— Traveling Incog. From Tid Bits, Magtstrate—“Why didn’t you your name? Vagrant—“Beg pardon, jedge, got wot name I gave las’ 4 Magistrate—“Didn't you give your own name” Vaxgrant—“No, jedge; I’m travelin’ in- cog.” answer to but I for- cee A Leap Year Problem. From Life. Miss Prue and Oidbcy are to wed This Easter, everybody knows; And far and wide the question's spread “Which was it reaily did propose?” Gladness Comes Witt= better understanding of the transient nature of the many phys- ical ills, which vanish before proper ef- forts—gentle effcrts—pleasant efforts— rightly directed. There is comfort in the knowledge, that so many forms of sickness are not due to any actual dis- ease, but simply to a constipated condi- tion of the system, which the pleasant family laxative, Syrupof Figs, prompt- ly removes. That is why it is the onl: remedy with millionsof families, and is everywhere esteemed so highly by all who value health. Its beneficial effects are due to the fact, that itis the one remedy which otes internal cleanliness without debilitating the orgens on which it acts. It is therefore all important, ir order to get its bene- ficial effects, to note when you prr. chase, that you have the genuine arti- ele, which is manufactured by the Cali- fornia Vig Syrup Co. only and sold by all reputable druggists. If in the enjoyment of good health, and the system is regular, laxatives or other remedies are then not needed. If afflicted with any actual discase, one may be commended to the most skillful physicians, but if in need of a laxative, one should have the best, and with the well-informed _ everywhere, 8: of Figsstands highest and is most largely weed and givesmost general satisfaction,