Evening Star Newspaper, October 31, 1896, Page 14

fy myself I recently secured in all twenty- three white cats,and experimented on them, one at a time. “In every case I found them stone deaf. In carrying the experiment further, I found that white dogs and white horses are de- ficient in hearing, and that many of them are entirely deaf. So are white rats and white mice. I am confident I do not over- state it in regard to white cats, though I have only personally experimented with twenty-three, and, of course, can only speak positively in regard to them. I don't hazard much, however, when I make the bold statement that all white cats are “Some people,” observed a conductor on | deaf.” &@ cable car, “have peculiar ideas about riding on cars. In the first place, some ladies insist on riding on the grip car, and on the front seat. They give all kinds of reasons for this, but my experience is that their principal reason, though they conceal x eK KOK “The best oyster experts that I know of,” said the captain of an oyster boat, “judge an oyster by the smell, instead of by the taste. There is something about the smell of any oyster that indicates its condition it, is that they want to be seen. It may be| tO me much plainer than does the all right for pleasant summer weather, but | taste. People buy them and eat them it is not exactly safe these cool evenings, | Probably on account of thelr taste. So also do they buy tea,-coffee and the various grades of whisky_and brandy for their taste, but all experts on those things Pass upon them entirely by their smell. The professional tea taster or whisky taster, so called, never tastes them, but simply arrives at their taste by their pecu- liarities of flavor, or, to speak plainly, smell. “I can tell what price a load of oysters will be rated at when they arrive at the wharf here by opening up the hold of the boat and smelling. In eight cases out of as many of them have found to their cost. Neither is it conducive to health for per- sons to ride in an open car with their back to the wind. The Arabs have a saying, and it is true, ‘that he who rides with his back to the wind rides with his face to the grave,” meaning that there is danger con- nected with it. It is hard enough for a gripman to stand it during cold weather, with his face to the wind, and I do not think that one man in twenty could stand riding all day with his back to the wind. It is better to ‘face the music’ and the wind, | assure you. The Arabs are right, weet eo ;|ten I am right. It strikes oystermen as Sat She advice tm their saying stould be | Ov once when thoy ‘see perucns going aque from boat to boat, as they Ile at the wharf, tasting oysters before they conclude to buy. Taste is all right, but if they don’t smell right they will never taste right.’ ee EK K “Tam sorry to have to say it," remarked a sleeping car conductor, “but somehow, and I have no explanation for it, men trav- x eK KK b “The most remarkable case of “second eling are not as courteous and agcommo- dating to lady travelers as they should | childhood’ I ever knew,” said Dr. T. K. be. The same men who ask for all kinds | Mason of Grand Rapids, at the Westmin- ster, “is that of John Adams of Cooperville, Mich. There are many instances of re- of accommodations, when they have their wives, sisters or female relatives traveling with them, and they never fail to then | gaining eyesight, a few of cutting new claim everything in sight, are in many | teeth, although these are quite rare, but cases the men who decline to give sim- | Adams when he was eighty years old, ilar favors to other lady passengers. A3 a matter of fact the upper berths in a sleep- ing car are the best, the best ventilated, and, 1 think experience has shown the safest in cases of wreck. “Still, the demand is nearly always for the lower berths, because it is easier to This cculd scarcely see, he was bald, and his teeth were all gone. He can now see near- ly as well as he ever could, he has cut several new teeth, and his hair has grown out again. The new hair is dark brown, his eyes are clear as though he was still young and at a glimpse he would be taken get into them. particularly so | for a man of forty years. But a little with lady travelers. In my last half dozen | closer look makes him seem even older trips from and back to this city I have |than he really is, although now nearly had mere than the usual percentage of lady passenger: ave not succeeded in ‘one case to get any of the men travelers, I can scarcely call them gentlemen, to sur- render a lower for an upper berth. The men, being more experienced, secured the lowers and refused to give them up.” ee RK “I had an experience in the matter of curing chills recently,” volunteered a well- ly. “and I would like to give it as much publicity as possible for the bene- fit of al! concerned. During the early fall one of my children contracted a first-class case of chills, and though cur physician dosed the child very freely with the stand- ninety. The brown hair and bright eyes Seem to emphasize the wrinkles and his skin Icoks like parchment. idea that new, skin will come, and the wrirkles disappear, but, of course, that would be impossible.” * KK KX 3 “They tell a geod story, about g man who used to be high constable down in Peters- burg, Va.," said a man who lives in that place to a Star reporter yesterday. ‘The constable found a flock of geese trespass- ing on the highway over around Blandford, a picturesque little settlement about two miles from Pétéersburg-” ‘AS’ he could not by of the medical profession, quinine, the | ' the owner of the birds he decided to chills came witha regularity that’ was | Gtive them into Petersburg and sell them inful and distressing. It was one of | 2t Public auction in the court house yard. eres ee ee t was a sight to see him driving them these cuses where quinine failed to check them, and it was si sted that we put the child through a course of arsenic, which sometimes cures when quinine fails to do down Sycamore street, up Court alley ani into the yard that environs the building in which Petersburg justice is dispensed. But he got them there all right enough. He r:ounted the steps of the court house and began to auction in the usual stereotyped manner. Just as a man from Dinwiddie about to bid them in the geese squawk- dently, flapped their wings and fiew back to Blandford. The constable looked at the fast disappearing birds, thought long and deeply, and then went down into Syc- amore street to think it over again.” Sea ae ae “The formation of an alumni association of the graduates and former students of Gcnzaga College,” observed one of its members, “has for one of its objects the preparation of a history of that college, which will be of great local interest. Gon- zaga celebrates its seventy-fifth anniver- sary in a couple of weeks. Originally known as the Washington Seminary, it was for fifty years located on the square bound- ed by F and G and 9th and 10th streets. Twenty-five years ago, or thereabouts, it was moved to its present location, on I ian suggested that there were ed that a bag of camphor in would cure the chills we should try it. It a charm, as it has acted in se this is the = ion, I am sure it ce of camphor sufficient in size, ewed in a couple of rapidly.” as it evaporate: ar the Point of Rocks, Fred- | Md., some days ago,” said | it, “I visited the quarry | hich the stone that constitute the | famous pillows in the old hall of the House | ¢ known as the | quarried. The ists as breccia, name fs ‘pudding formation. It is a “While up n erick counts t common .” from its peculiar street between North Capitol and 1st limestone conglomerate, though nearly a | streets. true m: It is a handsome as well as | ““Three of the mayors of Washington ‘kably interesting formation to geolo- | Were educated at the seminary, Walter pers s well as ta ee Strange er Lenox and Richard Wallach being of the C peammer ie : ve | Humber. ‘The seminary had at times one- ere is no demand for it, though | third of the members of the old board of ly sawed into slabs for table cov- | aldermen and common council as former students or graduates. Nearly one-half of the older merchants and professional men. of this city were seminary boys. The his- tory of Gonzaga, College, besides telling a story of seventy-five years of Washingion “The ay I was there I saw great auar- tities of it broken up and thrown into il burned into lime. It makes a able lime, and particularly for a made me feel sad was | and its early education, will include a his- ce r of the world, for it is | tory of many thousands of our best and found nowhere else in the world in such | most prominent citizens.” perfection, cannot be turned into other * * * Kt uses. It seems a pity to have to burn it into lime, when there are any quantity of limestones that will do so well for such uses, though there is but one such a find ©f breccia in this wide world.” es HOW IT SEEMED TO BRYAN. The Story He Told Bourke Cockran ee 4 * * Up in West Virginia. “The dentists have the best of us In the | Bryan and Bourke Cockran met out in use of gold leaf,” said a sign painter, “and West Virginia. Each expressed regret that they were not fighting together instead of | against each other. Then Bryan went out ; to make a short address to a rather large Strangely enough, they get three times as much money for gold leaf as we do. The gold leaf that a sign painter has to use to put on good gold letters on plate glass| crowd at a small town. Upon his return store windows, doors, transoms, etc. has | Bourke asked: “Well, wnat do you think, Recessarily to be the best, for it has to] yourself, of the outlook?” be seen. On the other hand, the dentist | <q draw big crowds everywhere I go,” re- can use up odds ard ends that we cannot | sponded Bryan. “They seem enthtsiastic, touch, for he can pack them down into the | ana I think 1 am winning votes, but you they are never seen. Phe Lest otite Paete | can't tell; you can't tell,” he added, slowly. ‘ oan Gea ‘Then, brightening up, he said: “It's a oF old le etterin; i -, = = en oe ne seteting was SEU pér | ood deal like atten somienmanocioewete fo out as a missionary to some of the cannibal islands. After he had been there some ume he returned to his friends in this ccuntry, and one venerable man interested in him asked him how he was getting © same amount of gold leaf rammed | into a tooth by the ordinary dentist would | bring in for him over ten times as much, for the gold leaf used by us on a foot of lettering would fill a dczen tooth cavities, as : se : long. ‘Very well; very well, indeed,’ he € ad an experience with a den- | ® u ee eee ea Tee eee ey letcahoudedt uuraw ecollcrowds tata hall sign, and he ‘charged $16 for filling | 4"d they pay close attention to what I say. ee ur teeth for me. I used on the | | feel sure that I am making converts seg e tetioreat a inte: ‘and of the better | very Gay, but,’ he added, with great se- quality, exactly four times as much gold | Tousness, ‘I never stand up before a crowd » did in my teeth. It took me | 0f those fellows and talk to them that to do the work than it did | there fs not a queer feeling running vp my 2, too, six years to learn my | Back, which makes me think I’m going to he graduated us a dentist in trade, w get eaten up by ‘em before I get through.’ ” two years. The dentist is my brother, and —_>— I know what I am taiking about.” A Martyr to the Cause. ‘ ! = Os ae fe rae From Life. a Posie ere cee ae ena pees sta, | “Your teacher tells me that you were not t > anxious that Bryan would be elected Pres- | 2t School yesterday. Now, young man, you know what you are going to get.” Bob (firmly)—“I do, pop; and I am willing to be licked any day for @ circus parade lke that.” ident, because there would be two Vice Presidents, Sewall and Watson, reminds me of another Instance of political knowledge on the part of the female sex,” remarked @n official of the State Department. “Though it occurred some years ago, it loses nothing by being a trifle stale, for I @o not think it has ever appeared in print. Among the callers to the State Department Qne day was a lady who was showing her nieces and nephews the sights. The lady herself has been wonderfully successful in bus: ir New York and has managed to @mass quite a fortune. o litical knowledge, however, was y developed as her knowledge of business affairs. It happened that as she Passed the room of the Secretary of State she asked me ‘whose rocm is that? J told her chat it was the room of the Secretary of “Well, just think of it!’ said the lady to her companions, ‘and the Secretary of State is living yet. Why, he was a Yery old man when I was here over thirty Wears ago!” A Poser. ***e *& * “Though I had often heard of it, I never Was fully satisfied that all white cats are Qaturally deaf until recently,” said a scien- tific gentleman, who devotes considerable of time to experimenting with the lower of animals. “I was aware that Pro- fessor Bell, in his original experiments in ¢onnection with the telephone, had ascer- tained and stated that his experience with white cats was that they were all either deaf or very deficient in hearing, and that Other experimentsers in the same direction had reached similar conclusions. To satis- “Farmers always grumbling? Well, sup- posin’ your pigs were down wi’ th’ fever, an’ your sheep had got th’ influenza, if your crops were drownded in eighteen inch- es o’ water, an’ your rent were overdue— what would you do?” “I? Ya give it up and start a golf club!” MRS. JILSON AROUSED. Lack of Consideration Shown inthe White Ha Decoration. “It’s a shame, that’s what it is,” said Mrs: Jileon, with more than usual vehemence. “I'd toll them so, if I were to see them face to face. It's a perfect outrage; that’s what it is. = “What is the matter now?’ asked Jilson, Who felt that silence at such a time would: not be good policy. ; “Matter enough; and I hope they will see the day they'll rue it. I believe it is a de- liberate insult, so I do.” She looked at Jilson as if he were the guil- ty person, and Jilson, in order to clear him- self, asked her to explain. “And you pretend you didn't see it?’ said Mrs. Jilson, scornfully. “You were there the other day and saw for yourself: But then you think it was all right, of course.” E “Well, what is it?” asked Jilson with some impatience. “Its almost as bad as Mark Hanna's put: ting up the price of wheat in order to de- feat Bryan; and that’s the meanest trick of the campaign. Brother Jack got caught on the rise in wheat, and he’s blaming Hanna more than any one; but I do think it’s mean enough, the mean, insulting things these gold bugs do.” “But what hgve they done besides raising the price of wheat?” asked Jilson, knowing that he must find out the latest outrage, or it would return to plague him. “Well, if you pretend you don’t know'T'll” remind you that it is the Clevelands.” “Well, what have they done?” asked Jil- son. “Done,” said Mrs. Jilson, with vigor. “Done the White House; that’s what they have done. Done it a fine old gold, too; completely burying everything in the east room under a hated yellow. The carpet is yellow, the divans, chairs and hangings are yellow. Not satisfied with making all these yellow, an extra coat of gilding hasb een plastered all over the iron and wood work. Oh, it’s an outrage, and you know it! And there that saffron will remain until the Bryans come in. “T should think the Clevelands would have shown more courtesy toward the people who are to succeed them than to have covered the east room of the White House with a color which must be extremely obnoxious to them. It would have been a delicate thing to have had the room done in silver, and I believe if Mrs. Cleveland had been consulted all that yellow would not be there. That is just about such a trick as ‘Thurber is capable of; and I just know that it was he who thought it would be smart to have that gold room greet the Bryans. It's so like him.” And Mrs. Jilson snapped her teeth to- gether in a manner that would have made the private secretary start if he had known it was intended for him. —_>—___. THE TRAMP’S APPEAL. It Worked All Right the First’ Time and Then Failed. é “Say, young feller,” said Flowery Fields, the tourist, huskily accosting a Star re- porter on F street the other night, “I've got a t'lrst and I've got de Brooklyn boys besides. Dat’s no lie. I kin see afiy old?! kind of a pink zebra or yaller monkey jest by closin’ me peeps fur a secon Vek tink I must have ‘em vad. hooter of booze ‘ud be de handltest: ting in life fur me jest right uow. Dis is plain talk. How is it for de dime?” The plain talk won the day. The re- porter, bewildered by the beauty of ‘the unvarnished tale, produced a 10-cent piece; dropped it into the truthful Flowery's_be- grimed paw, and went his way, looking back to see the straightforward hoho dis- appear into a gin mill. About haif an hour later, as he was hurrying along the avenue near ith street, he heard the husky {ice of a man following at his elbow say- Ing: “Say, young feller, I've got a tijxat,,and I've got de Brooklyn—” The “young feller” whirled around, and there was Flowery. “Look here, confou' ** said the re- porter to the “bum,” “you gave me that one up on F street only a few minutes ago, and it went through all right. How many dimes do you figure on getting out of one man in thé course of an evening?” “Well, now,” replied Flowery, savepishly, “dis is where I get it in de neck. *-T nfust have de bugs, fur a fact, to make a jay play like dis. But how kin you expéct me to remember de looks of all de dead -cagy blokes I run agin’ In de course of a night's graft? It jest can’t be done, dat's wot dt can't. Howsomever, if on dis occashun you'd be willin’ to compromise on a nick- Peach But the dead easy one was hoppitig th'a™ cable car. as a JUST A LARK, A Unique but Appnrrently Satisfying Conception of Recreation. A colored raan, one of a large ‘ntimber Who were working under a contractor, in. Virginia last summer, afforded a striking illustration of how much more happiness” depends on the individual than upon cir- cumstances. In relating the incident to a Star reporter his employer drew a strong picture of the discomforts under’ which the laborers lived and worked. The hours. were long—almost from sunrise to sunset— and the men were kept digging, régardless of how hot the sun beat down and without respite in wet weather. This particular man was cne of the most industrious of the entire number. He wielded his pick in time to an inexhaustible repertoire of quaint ditties, and each night tas seen playing the gallant to one or another of several feminine admirers. He was. about the only one who never asked for leave of absence on account of illness, and in spite of his nocturnal festivities he re- mained cheerful until the contract was completed. When the ‘ast pay day came the superintendent 3aid to him: “Jake, you've worked pretty hard.” “Yas, indeed, suh.” “Have you any money saved up?” “On’y whut's comin’ ter me now, suh, an’ I owes dat.” “Do you mean to say that you've been digging in that blistering sun, working like. a cart horse all these months, without putting by anything?” . “Goodness me, suh, dat doan’ worry me nene. I didn’ ‘speck ter lay nuffin’ by. I Jes’ come down hyuh foh er good time.” ee The Star’s Election News. The Evening Star's election news will completely cover every point of interest in the country. In addition to the facilities afforded by the -wide-reaching arrange- ments of the Associated Press, The Star has posted staff and special correspondents at all the important news centers, and the readers of The Star will enjoy the benefit of a service unrivaled for accuracy, fuH- ness and completeness. Those who want. to get the quickest and best news should arrange to get Tuesday’s edition of The Star. The Star will display the news Tuesday night on a mammoth screen, so that every one who desires can get the news as quick- ly as the telegraph brings it to the city. The Star will receive and display the bul- letins of the Associated Press, the Western. Union and the Postal Telegraph companies, besides the special bulletins of its own corps of correspondents and the election mews to be gathered and distributed over. the country by long distance telephone. ——__. The Real Dollar. From Life. a In the course of a recent political speech, a Quaker minister of Glens Falls made the following remark: ' “My friends, however hard the times have been, whatever we have had to’ pass through, there has not been a day. when every dollar in our land couldn’t hold up its head and say: ‘I know that my redeemer liveth!’ ” —-———+ee. ; He Must Live. BE From Life. « “Why have you charged me twice as much for burying my second wife as you charged for my first?” asked the indignant “I renee fea reek re ei Bry under- taker, “that Tate decreased 50 per cent in the meantime,” as, Pt, ssi Aker oF of thé down;-the-Poto- mac communities had before him an uh- usual tasiff” Hignduties required him to convey 4 hardened criminal, famogs through bi¥ ninictous chicken roost depre- dations, faom town. to another, ,His emmatl teenie: weighed heavily upon him and his nerves needed bracing. He had secured @ sailboat for the trans- portation of his, prisoner and at each town he faltea’for more stimulant. His charge wes required to accompany him at every &ep inorder to prevent his es- cape, and the sheriff was too hospitable to allow the fact that the prisoner was & colored man and a suspect in the hands of the law to bar him from an equal share in the cheer. By the time they had stopped at six or eight towns the sheriff was urable to télf one color ‘from another. 3 ‘ They had almost reached: their journey’s end. There was-only one more town in which to patronize the bar before they reathed the place where the prisoner was to be locked up, And here disappointment awaited them. “I'm sorry, sir,” the landlord said, “but pecereae a drop in the house, except lemon a.’ They had passed the point of discrimi- nation, ard a bottle of lemon soda apiece was added to the collection, The sheriff made_a wry, face, but he did not risk the exertion of a protest. He sank into a chair and was soon fast asleep. His pris- oner looked at him-and safd: “I reekon we'd better put ’im ter baid.” They carried him up to a room where the colored men undressed him and wrapped him up in an old-fashioned comforter, which the landlord's wife said was the only covering she could spare. She provided it rather reluctantly, too, as it was gay of color, intricate in design and had never been used before. He was left alone with the lamp burning low. About midnight the landlord and his fam- ily were aroused by a series of prolonged and piercing shrieks. The sounds came from the-room occupied by the sheriff. “Take 'em away!" he yelled. ‘Chase ’em offvan’ bring-me a pledge to sign.” He was out in the middle of the floor dancing wH@ly and hysterically brushing his naked arms and legs with both hands. The landlord and the hired man grabbed him and demanded an explanation. “Don't yottsee ‘em?” he shouted. ‘Don’t I see what?” asked the landlord. “Aings. All over me. Look at‘em wrig- ‘The lamp was turned up and’the secret of his distress: revealed. The comforter had faded and stamped him from head to foot with its fantastic figurings. “I've seen ‘em in corners often,” the sheriff moaned, “but I never s’posed they wuh goin’ to get in my system’ an’ break out on me. Where's that pledge?” A little soap and water soon dispelled the illusion, and he suddenly asked: “Where's the man that was with :me iast_night?* “He went Away a little while after you were put to bed!” “WW Hose ‘Clothes are those?” - ped Fe theyire not yours I don’t ‘know whose they an ‘The sher! jaw “Thats what foal might Have left my clothes after the good time I showed him yesterday. I guess I'd better take something to steady my nerves. Bring meup the'best you've got, and bring it in a tumbler.” “I told “you: last night that we haven't anything 3m the House except Jemon soda.” “Nothing_buttemonlovk ' ‘here, did I “drink” anyvot that?” “Yes; you drank a glass} ore’ glaiie" >< 5 “That exflains*it. I was wondering what shattered thy nérves. Don’t say anything about this!to anybody, will you?” “Why, you can’t conceal the fact that your prisoner escaped.” “Of course not. I'll have to stand a good dea! of jokin’ about that, I’m. willing to aces ylec that when it’s on me, an’ I'll takeit -natured. i a there’s p lot of Jealopsy in politics, and there are always people waitin’ for a chagce'tp Pain & man’s reputa' you have any consideration for me ortmy fam'ly, don’t-let, my_ people up. there @md*out that ‘what did ‘ft was lemon sodee?* ‘ “23° HE BOUGHT IT, ee J ee 2 ThE CicKt Thought H Had Paid for ioe Mb Adversary Thu: yo A Washington attorReyhad a taller yes- terday. Sa He w4s an uncouth“looking individual and $ajd, that he hailed-trom Montgomery county, Md. he Judire,” he said, “I reckon I'll hev ter bey a few. words 0’ advice.” “Well, what is it?” “Thar's a sto’keeper up my way, an’ I’ve hed-a good many dealin’s with him fust and laste. reckon “I ve: séede him put” hts right thumb in the scales @ hundred-times When be-weighed things I bought.” “Well, you ought to-have:ateppka: htm. ‘Yow-can't collect damages for that,” in- terrupted the attorney. “I don’ want no damages.” “Welt; ‘what do you want?” “Yo' see. we got in a-fout-yesttddy ‘and I bit off that thumb, an’ I want ter know:if, any, times as I bought it, I don't own ie ’so'that he kain't git damages ter my bit In’ it off.” dropped disconsolately. a Towed i ee PERSEVERANCE REWARDED. The Rejected Suitor Was Not an Ob- ject for Sympathy. She could not see his face as he knelt and asked her to be his, She was glad of that, for she did not wish to know how much suffering her re- fusal caused him. She told him as gently as she could that their lives could not be linked together; that although she admired-him and es- teemed him, she felt that {t would be risk- ing nis future as well as her own to con- sent to a ‘union when she was sure no affinity existed. It was a touching speech, and she threw so much heart into it that she did not observe that he was taking notes in shorthand. When she had con- cluded, he arose, and put his note book in his pocket. Extending his hand he re- marked genially: fe : “I'm-ever and ever so much obliged to you."” ‘ : “Sel-r-r-r-rt" =f ES “You did it ever so nicely, and ’'m under @ thouSdfd ‘obligations. ~ I’m writing a novel, and I have a scene in which a girl refusés to marry a man. I was anxious to avoid the stereotyped style of depicting such incidents and make it realistic. You’re the .seventh aic) I have proposed to, and overs one of the others accepted me. If you had said ‘Yes’ I think I'd have been completely discouraged.” a gS Facilis Descensus, Fiom Punch. Our dear-Hetle Biskop has bought e new bike, Nor recks what the world may say, Over. hill and dows Cale, past hedge-row and dyke, He merrily y his ‘way, When to visit his vfcars on Sundays he gocs, ‘fo appearance he tries to take But the one-thing de loves ts to tuck up his toes ‘And fly down: Bill at full speed. J : lo os ai rt i: He ean do: thirty miles withgut turaing a. bats, fot he ime mach giver tote = bonsting, , ‘Tn the 3. ofthe wheel,” he will oft “here fe othing can Colne oy to case Avd’all-of’his clergy are gomg in now ‘ip’s’” lead; ‘To follow “his lo: 3 ‘They're biking and tiiking, hut mone, I avow,. snme turn of speed. Gan develop the Some May, Pye no donbt—his Tinbe are Bo supple — He'll for record or race: Tide bound that he'll win, if he gets fast couple Of curates for making the pace’ * A REMGRSEFUL CUSTODIAN |: : ‘TA Washington Hero Who is Brave, On WHE He, BRAVE AND UNGALLANT. but Who Will Learn, _ A young fellow of sixteen or seventeen Stood at the corner of Pennsylvania avenue ‘and 19th street the other morning, when the air was feeling like it would make a cyclist turn traitor to his country rather than miss a spin, and as a pretty girl—the Prettiest of a bunch of pretty ones—whizzed past him with a smile and’a nod, he pulled his cap at her, and, instead of bowing and smiling, he bowed and cussed. A minute or so later the young fellow made a rush for a cable car as if it were a foot ball, and when he landed he landed in the lap of a Star man. “Hello!’ exclaimed The Star man. “where's your wheel? A man on a street car a morning like this is fit for raisins, chewing gum and shawls.” The pretty-girl gang had turned about and were coming back. “See that girl in the front row?” asked the young fellow. “Of course. I'd see her if I didn’t see any of the others. The youngster shook his head. “That was my fix, too, yesterday; but I'm not so any more,” he said. “What's the row?” “That's where my bicycle is.” “Girl got g? She can't ride it.” “Naw, Jacky yap. She consumed it yes- terday.’ < The young fellow was becoming unintelli- gible, and the reporter began back pedaling ull he had slowed him down. “Well, I'll tell you about it,” he said, shaking his fist at the disappearing maiden. “I had just got a new wheel, and it was a beauty, and me and the girl went out to the ccuntry near Kensington to see some kin people of hers. She had an old second- hand wheel that wasn’t worth a dollar, but she rode it like it was @ two-hundred-dollar trap. There was a fine bit of smooth road leading up in a great curve to the house, and we went up that like a pair of royal nibs, and created a sensation. Later in the day I was sitting up in front of the house, and pretty soon I hears a scream cown the big road, and lo and behold you, there was the girl, with the red skirt she wore, mak- ing a fine target for & big brindle bull, and he was coming head down, like he was in the ring in old Madrid. “I didn’t know anything to do, not hav- ing a Gatling gun or one of them big thir- teen-inchers, except to jump on my wheel and go down to meet the girl, which I did just in time, for she was so bad scared she cculdn’t do much. I suppose the bull was @ hundred yards behind her, and in I sail- ed, to attract his attention. But his mind was on that red, and he wouldn’t change his course, so I saw that I'd have to try to stop him with my wheel or tell the girl good-bye and go to town for a hearse. “So I got a good hold of it, and as the bull swept by I shoved the wheel at him any old way, for I sasn't any bull fighter or tor- reador, or that kind. I was lucky, though, or the giri was, for the bull’s horns caught in the spokes of the hind wheel, and it tripped Mr. B., sending him forward on his head and getting him so tangled up in spokes, chains and handle bars that when he did finally get on his feet, the girl was in a safe place, and so was I, and the bull looked like he had been out all night in a cyclone with a barbed wire fence.” Here the young fellow stopped and sighed profoundly. “That was my nice new bicycle,” he con- cluded, like a wail, “and the darn girl never shed a tear when she rode back to town with another fellow, and I -ame in alone on an electric car. You bet the next time—" but the reporter absolutely refuses to record what he said. — OBSERVING THE PROPRIETIES, A Long but Successful Search for a Suitable Name. The colored man had tied his mule to a telegraph pole while he weut into the feed store. When he came out he found the animal industriously gnawing a hole into the wocd. “Why don’t you feed your mule?” a by- stander inquired. “Feed ‘um! Mistuh, I gibs dat mule five meals er day, an’ dat’s three mo’n whut I gits. He’s wuss'n er goat. Scrap iron doan’ stop "im no mo'n ez if ’twus short’nin’ bread.” “He must have a remarkable digestion.” “De cnly ting dat makes dat anamile er mule is an accident of birth. Ef he'd hap- pened ter hab two laigs ‘stid o’ fou’ he'd of been er orstrich.” While the hitching strap was being untied the mule kecame restless and his owner cried: “Whoa, dar, Sulphuric Acid!’ “What's that you call him?” “Sulphuric Acid. His name useier Julius Caesar.” “How did you happen to change it?” “Wal, suh, I didn’t name ‘im Julius Caesar in de fus’ place, an’ I nebber did tink dat wif er lop-eared, n»~’count mule dat name made sense. So I kep’ mer ears open foh sumpin’ mo’ 'propriate. I wus wu'kKin’ foh er drug stoh man an’ one day when I dene broke er big demijohn I hyuhd *im say dat sulphuric acid am de eatin’est ting dat is. I didn’ look no furder, but I wont home an’ hel’ er christenin’ den an’ jar.””” be —. LIBERAL, BUT DISCREET. A Man Who Had Evidently Had Ex- perience With Expensive Timepieces. “I want something handsome in the way of a clock,” he said to the jeweler. “We have a very fine line of goods,” was the response; “‘and the prices are very moderat “I don’t care anything about the price. I want something that will show at a glance that it cost a whole lot of money.” “Certainly. We have some beautiful im- ported goods.” “That’s the idea; something that came from abroad. I want an onyx pedestal and ormolu trimmings and a statue on top of it.” “Here's a veritable work of art.” “That's pretty well; but I'd like some- thing more attractive than that. It's to be a birthday present to my wife. We haven't been keeping hovse very long and she’s been worried for fear people would think we were going without a clock be- cause we couldn’t afford one. I'm going to see that she has something so handsome that it'll dazzle everybody who comes into the parlor and so precious that it has to be kept under glass like a speci- men in the museum.” “How is this one?” the jeweler inquired, as h> lifted a massively ornate article from a shelf. “That’s the very thing. That'll please her almost to death. Pack it up and ship it out to my house and send the bill to my cffice. "11 cost a hundred and twenty-five dol- lars,” the jeweler mildly suggested. “That's all right. It looks as if it were worth it.” He started for the door, but came back and said: “By the way, you'd better give me another clock—one pf these smal nickel-plated affairs that cost about a dollar and a half, so that we can stick it off in an obscure corner to look at when we want to know what time It is.” SS THE FESTAL BOARDING HOUSE. The Man Who Does the Eating Keeps His Memory With Him. The Napoleon of a Washington boarding house, nameless here forevermore, or words to that effect, was devoting all his Spare time to the conquest of the meal set before him, while the other boarders were trying to forget, in pleasing and instructive conversation, what they were there for. The Napoleon had just stuck his fork into a helpless potato, the discussion being on the Irish rebellion, the immediate conten- tion being the year of its occurrence, and the Napoleon was ing no part whatever, notwithstanding the landlady’s seductive efforts to lure him into it. She had just set a dish of fruit down by his platy. “Oh, Mr. Barker,” she exclaimed with the true effusiveness and fervor of a landlady striving to please, “have you no memory for dates?” The Napoleon glanced quickly at the late- ly deposited dish and then turned his fierce eyes upon the landlady who was moving about the table. “No’m, I can’t say I have,” he said in a voice that fairly lifted the State Depart- ment clerk next to him clear out of his chair, spun him around and set him down with a thump, “but I have for prunes, and this is the twenty-first time we've had um in the last seven days.” As the boarder finished this truly Napo- leonic utterance, the landlady, who was| ‘‘But what could we live on?” coming sled was “I've got a hook an’ line in my ity pale and grasp the | en’ with love like ours we could toward him with a dead “THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 3i, 1896-TWENTY-EIGHT PAGES. TIPPING GENERAL SHERIDAN “General Sheridan had a great deal more of his memoirs written than ever got into his book,” said a gentleman who was for a long time officially connected with the late general of the army. “Had he lived the book would have been much livelicr, I as- sure you. As it was, the memoirs were edited by Col. Sheridan, General Sheridan's brother, after his death, and many of the best things, in my judgment at least, were from various reasons left out. Gencral Sheridan was very anxious to tell some of the funny experiences he had after he had reached the command of the army, and he had ouslined several of them just prior to the illness which ended in his death. “One of these experiences referred to the first tip that hé received, for being pleas- agt to a visitor. In the guide books there is a description of the office of the general, or, as it is known, the headquarters of the army in the War Department. It is stated in connection therewith that the office is generally open for public inspection, and that visitors to the city and others are welcome to inspect it at all times, at least during office hours. Once General Sheridan was very busy prefaring or revising some official reports. He had kept the messen- gers generally stationed at the outer door cf his office running around at a rather lively rate to his various subordinates, and for the moment there was no one at the door, when in marched a couple of visitors, a respectable-looking man and a lady, armed with their guide book. The general did not relish the intrusion very much, but they did not know it, for he kept steadily at his work. “They examined all the pictures on the walls, and gave considerable attention to a marble bust of the general, which had just been placed therein. ‘So that is General Phil Sheridan,’ said the man to his wife. “Well, no one would ever think that man was ever such a fighter as he was. To me he looks a little top-heavy—has too much head for his body.’ He made other remarks, all of which the general heard, and the effect of them was to divert his attention from his work. ‘How old is Sheridan?’ asked the visitor, indicating for the first time that he noticed any one in the room. General Sheridan gave him the informa- tion, and, thinking that the best way to get rid of his visitors would be to explain to them hurriedly the things of interest in the room, proceeded to do so. He warmed up somewhat on some of them, and his de- scriptions and explanations of some of the portraits, war scenes and Indian curios, blankets, etc.—there were a number of them then in the room—were extremely mteresting. “The visitors were appreciative, however, and, as they turned to leave the room, the man quietly slipped a twenty-five-cent piece into the general's hand, adding that they were thankful for the information and in- struction, and departed. The story was such a good one that the general told it on himself, first to his messengers and after- ward to many others. He had intended to run it into his memoirs, but it never got there. He always spoke of it as the first time he had received and accepted a fee for performing a public service.” eee - SHE LITTLE THINGS. The Old Lady ‘Agreed With the Minis- ter in His Views. “Some very good people have singular ideas,” remarked a well-kndwn divine to a Star reporter. “I was talking to a lady who is a member of my church, and thor- oughly conscientious, but who neglects the amenities of life amd thereby creates ene- mies. I thought I might induce her to see how ‘shé was injuring herself and took oc- casion to have a talk with her, in the course of which [ said: “It is the little things that make up the Joys and sorrows o “Yes, doctor,” she replied, “you are right. I know all about them. I ratsed ten, and there was a good deal of joy a good deal of sorrow in it, and since thi have grown up, my neighbors have little things, and they are certainly the worst to be found in Washington.” — NATURE’S WISDOM. A Convincing Argument i the Fitness of Things. Erastus Pinkley was sitting on the top rail of the fence throwing corn to the pride. of the household and the hope of Thanksgiving, a solitary turkey. He was about to shell an ear of red corn when his mother called to him: “Hol’ up, dar, chil’! Ain’ yoh got no re- speck foh de feelin’s o’ dat bird?” “I wusn’ sayin’ nuffin’ ter "im, mammy. “Actions speaks louder’n words. oh wus gwinter frow dat red co'n at "im. Yon min’ .ain’.on yoh bus’ness. You's been a lis’nin’ erouc’ ter dese man dat talks "bout de free coinage o’ bimetallism tell yon dcan’ kaow whut yoh’s doi: “Dar ain’ no insult ter er tu’key in red co’n no’ mo’n dar is in yaller. Co’n's co’n.” “Mebbe ‘tis. But er tu’key doan’ like it. He git mad whenebber he sees it, an’ I doan’ want ’im fretted, ’case dat sp'ils de Tmeat.” “Wal! Ef dat ain’ de foolishest! De idee ob er tu’key tu’nin’ up ‘is nose at good vic- tuals ‘case o° de color.” “Hush dat talk. Ef er tu’key had sense "twould be de ruination ob ‘im. Hit am er evidence er de wisdom ob nature dat he ain’ got only ’telligence ‘nuff ter eat.” “Sense can’t hu't nobody.” “Da’'s er mistake. Hit kin be out 0’ place Same ez anyt'ing else. Spos'n dat tu'key wus er onderstandin’ anamile. He'd go erhaid an’ worry hisse’f thin ober de ‘lec- tion an’ de flyancial question, same ez de white folks does, an’ by de time Fanks- gibbin’ come erlong dar wouldn’ be nuffin’ lef’ ob ‘im, 'ceppin’ er rack 0’ bones.” —_—_— FINANCIAL REVERSES. Favor of Disappointment of an Investor Who Overworked the Market. They had been talking about trusts and the imme.se profit realized by capital. “A man is never satisfied, however big the returns may be,” remarked the man with the patient expression. “Yes,” said the plump-looking citizen with a meerscheum cigar holder; “no mat- ter what a person achieves, he is always haunted by the thought that he might have done better. The trouble about mak- ing money rapidly is that a man fails to be content with a fair percentage of gain on his investment.” “I have a friend who is exactly that way. He turns up his nose at a mere hundred per cent or so.” “He must be a plunge! “No; he’s a conservative investor.” “What does he handle?” “Well, you might cail them government obligations.” “He must have a new kind of a good thing.” - “He used to have. But he’s lost me. And it’s positively depressing to read what he says because the two-cent stamp he recently bought to put on a letter to me @idn’t realize the usual dividend of $5.” ——__. Not His Preference. Fro.n Life. “Well, Mr. Benedict,” said the physician, “you scarcely expected triplets to begin with.” “No, I didn’t,” replied the disconsolate man. “I prefer my family on the install- ment plan.” ————— “The Food of Love.” From Harper's Weekly. “Maria, what boat = you say to elopin’ with Bve et me in that fish for years!” A COLLEGE REUNION, And It All Took Place on Board a Street Car. In the neighborhood of theater time the other evening a lady and gentleman board- ed a lth street cable car at Pierce plac They bore the unmistakable air of visitors, if, indeed, they were not bride and The pair took seats in the closed which, except for them, was empty. The conductor, a strapping big young fellow with a black mustache and very white teeth, came aft from the open car to take up the couple’s fares. When he caught sight of the male passenger's face ne start- ed slightly and turned a little red. The gentleman happened to glance at the con- ductor as he nanded him the two fare He jumped to his feet. “Why, hello there, Jack'” he said as he wrung the hand of the conductor, whose coloring became a little deeper as he smiled under it. “Why, what the—" “How are you, Jim?” replied the athletic- looking collector of fares. “Say, great Scott!” exclaimed the en- thusiastic passenger, “why, here, Laura, let me make you acquainted with an old friend of mine. Jack, my wife.” The conductor lifted his cap and bowed to the lady with the grace of a Chester- field. Then he started to go forward to the frent car, but his old friend wouldn't have He hauled him to a seat beside him. “Sit down here, eld man,” ne said, “and tell me all about yourself. Why, holy smoke, who the deuce would hi thou, of seeing you here! Well, I'll swear &c., &c. As there were no other passe’ gers in the car, the good-looking transfer puncher kept his seat beside the gentle- man accompanying the lady—whose counte- nance expressed mingled graciousness and mystification—until the car reached the turning at New York avenue. The two men, both smiling all over, conversed in a low tone, breaking occasionally into sub- cued shouts of laughter. The name of @ Greek letter society was frequently used by both of them in the course of the talk, as were the terms “flying w rush,” “carrying off signs,” class,” and other expressions commonly used by collegians. At New York avenue, the conductor, after being warmly shakea by both hands of the male passenger, bow- ed to the lady, and went to the front car. “Jim,” said the lady to her husband, “that man has monopolized you for a mile. Who in the world can he be?” “Well,” said Jim, “that's Jack Westlake. He and I were kids together in Boston, went to school and played marbles and jack-knife together, went to Yale together and occupied the same chambers, took the same course, played foot ball together in the saine auxiliary eleven, stole shop sig.as for our rooms together, got arrested on two Thanksgiving days together for disturbing the public peace, got suspended and taken back together, learned to smoke together— and got deucedly sick in doing it, I can tell you—graduated together, and——” Here Jim paused. ¥ suggested his wife. “Oh, I don't know the rest,” said the ‘I kind of lost track of him after There was a soubrette, and—and— well, rum and things in it, and Jack just disappeared. This is the first time I've seen him since. He's the rattlingest, nicest fel- low I ever met, all the sume. “Mr. Westlake,” sald the lady to the conductor as the latt@ came in at the front door of the car just thon, “we get off here. Won't you take dinner with us to mecrrow?” The conduct © looked deprecatingly at his uniform for an instant, blushed, tipped his cap, and sai Thank you, y) The cou- ple got off, and the car went on its way. — UTTERLY DISCOURAGED. The Fate of One Who Wasn't W to Take the World as He Found I There was the inflection of hal archoly in his voice as he rem: “Man al arked: is a victim of his own delusions. s of this year are only the disap- Pr : “What's the matter?” his friend inquired. “Hav2 some of your schemes turned out wrong?” My friend, there i well as in failure. I was thinking of some- thing I came across this morning while I was having my heating arranger hauled. It occurred to me sells him coal up and dumps defy y which w » the ard which weighed every shovelful of coal that I used, before it dropped into the fire pot. All I did was to dump the coal into a hopper, and before it slid down it registered its weight on a dial. When the load of coal was gone I could tell ex- actly how many pounds of it there had been. The first time I tried I found there were enty pounds coming to me.” "d you tell the dealer about it?” ‘I did.” ‘What did he do?” da men and threatened to have “He cal me put out. He said that I could go some- where else for coal; he wouldn't sell me more. I tried another dealer, and he vowed he'd sue me for libel. I went around from dealer to dealer, until there's only four wom T haven't’ patronized. 1 took the machine off. If I had kept it, there wouldn't be a place in town where I could get fuel to keep me from freezing. I was happy and trustful till I completed what I thought was to be a crowning acnie ment in modern invention. I realize now that all I did was to sit up nights to make myself miserable. I haven't the heart to atent the thing and put it on the market. shudder at the thought of making any- bedy else as discouraged with life and as suspicious of his fellow matras I am.” eee STRIKING A BALANCE. The Old Colored Man Came Very Near Making a Center Shot. A government official, now in receipt of the princely salary of $100 a month, and glad to get it, has seen better days, and the time was when he came over to Wash- ington from his ancestral acres in Vir- ginia and blew in in a night more money than he gets now in a month, Him a Star man met on the street the other Sunday afternoon, just as he parted company with an old colored man, and he was smiling. “Been hearing some good news from the old folks at home?” inquired the reporter. “Not news, exactly,” was the reply, “but an echo from the other days.” “It must have been pleasant, to judge from your smile?” “It wasn’t, in the abstract, but in the way the old chap presented it it was rather funny, and I was smiling at it. That old fellow,” he continued, “was a ‘free nigger’ in the times before the free- dom of his race, and he was held in much respect by all who knew him, unless it was the ‘ornery niggers’ and the poor white trash. He was very poor, and looked to be as old forty yearg ago as he does now, as so many darkies do. Many times I have given htm money to buy a meal with, and I had done the same thing when you came up, though he realizes perfectly that my condition is not greatly better than his, ex- as to immediate income. ‘Deed, colonel,’ he was saying, ‘hit ain’t like it wuz in de ol’ times in ol’ Ver- ginny, l’se a tellin’ you.’ “Well, hardly, Uncle Ezry,’ I replied, feeling sorry that I could only spare a dime. ““Hit’s mighty dif'ernt wid some ob us, dough, suh, in de ‘p'intments ob de Lawd. Ne suh, dar’s you an’ Ma’s Claibe, an’ Mis Ellen, an’ Ma’s John, suh, you all com- menced wid lots, suh, an’ now you hain’ got nuffin’; an’ dar's me, suh, I commenced wid nuffin’, suh, an’ I’se been holdin’ my = right along f'um dat day to “Um,” cogitated the reporter, “it is rather amusing the way the old man puts it, but there’s nothing very funny in the principle involved.” eee: Use for Two Holes. From Truth. Pat—“Fer th’ love av hivin, Motke, phwat air ye borin’ a hole in yer boat fer?” Mike—‘Begob, there's wan hole in it now thot lets th’ wather in, an’ O'im goin’ t’ put another wan in t’ let it out.” Too Much. From Harper's Bazar. “Really, Mr. Graduate,” said the broker to is new clerk, a this-year graduate of Yale, “I am very sorry, but after Saturday I shall have to dispense with your services. I, of course, admire your enthusiasm, but I real- jy can’t stand having you giving your col- every time the market rises — e t afew