Evening Star Newspaper, November 28, 1896, Page 16

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 98, 1896-24 PAGES. AGREAT COMPANY The Comedie Francaise, and How It is Conducted. mit them to maintain themselves in a state of artistic superiority, in order that the really true and beautiful may not be put to shame by passing fads. The French government owns the build- ing of the Theatre Francais, the same fine, old-fashioned building on the place of the same name at the corner of the Avenue de TOpera and the rue Richelieu, in which Napoleon I installed the company on its reorganization after the troubles of the revolution. Later on, from Moscow. he sent them the decree which constituted THE OLD THEATER BUILDING | tem the Societe des Comediens, to be sub- A Veritable Club House in Its Com- 3 forts. HOW PLAYS ARE SELECTED * Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. PARIS, November 10, 1896. HE BUILDING IS called the Theatre Francais, while the company Is called the Comedie Francaise. You go to the Thea- tre Francais to see artistes of the Com- edie Francaise, and what you see is, be- nd doubt, the sreatest _ theatrical troupe and with the greatest repertoire in is 4 2 Frenchman, who does not pride in thin however Illiterate, well with a sort of national g of this admirable artistic institution. The French say boldly that, as there is only ore Moliere, so there can be only one unique company of actors cap- ing the chefs d’oeuvre of that = and that this ability t be owin not alone to the excep- tional talent of the comedians, picked as they are from the best till more, and M. Coquelin. above all, to the fact of a tradition dating back to Moliere himself, a constant tradl- tion, uninterrupted, and now filled with the wisdom of twe centuries. They say also that if by any unimaginable cataclysm all » theaters of France should disappear, ional dramatic genius would remain as the Comedié Francaise alone and triumphant amid the tradiden of the Comedie Francaise t very special It has its sides ch are not acceptable to all. It goes into the minutest details of interpretation, not only of classical pieces, but of life and manners in general, concerning itself the fa » moving, ges- Mime. Worms-Barretta. ticulating and the whole manner of under- st piaying a role. There are find it insupportable In Its rigid . Which would impose a classical uni- formity on comedians of the most opposite talent, temperament and physique, de- manding of them that they shall waik, speak, move, laugh, weep, show anger, sul prise and delight. to the very wiping of their noses. other hand, the American playgoer, dwell- ing as he di in the midst of that abom- ination of elation that arises from too perfect liberty, need not be told how es- sential it is that the general principles of M. Albert Lambert. theatrical diction and scenic action should be ground into young comedians. If the Comedie Francaise errs in its devotion to tradition, it {s with the excuse that it would guard against looseness and willful- ness in the actor and waves of popular error in the public taste. This is the place of the Comedie Fran- caise In French dramatic art. With the Grand Opera, the Opera Comique and the theater of the Odeon, it stands up as a “subventioned” temple of the worthy, the proper and the correct. To the Opera the government gives $160,000 yearly; to the Comedie Francaise, $18,000; to the Opera Comique, $60,000, and to the Odeon, $20,000, These annual subventions are granted to their recipients in order to encourage them all the world. Thera, M. Trufier. ventioned and administered by the state as in the time of the old kings. By this char- ter the players form a kind of corporation for their owa benefit, but overlooked and guided by the state. ‘The actual members of the corpor: that is to say, the profit-share: societaires” by name—may not increase their number or fill vacancies without the approval of the minister of public instruction and fine arts. For ex- ample, Worms, after seven years of con- stant progress and valuable services, was elected ‘“soctetaire’” unanimously by the troupe; but the ministerial approbation be- g too long “adjourned” for some reason yest Known to the politicians of the time, reat jeune premier ac epted an en- t in Russia, where he. stayed and afterward pass@ to the se until recalled to the Com- e again, this time with full assurances of his confirmation as socletatre. It cast the subvention theater $15.00) to sed by the Gymnase, it being ne and money wasted because of the caprice of a passing minister. Red tape, indeed, is strong wherever civil serv- fee is perfected. The present corporation is compesed of twenty-two of these socie- s; of men, Mounet-Sully, Coquelin, et; Prudhon, Silvain, Baillet. Le Bargy F Boucher, Leloir, Truffier, Al- . fils; Paul Mounet, Georges Berr and Pierre Laugier; of women, Bar- tet, Reichenberg, Baretta-Worms, Dudla: i Muller, Ludwig, Kalb and Mars are many other actors and ac cen constantly upon the stage, some fifteen each, who are paid salaries, under the name of “pensionnaires.” It Is very rare, absolutely exceptional, that, a jan should be received into the cor- poration directly from the outside world; it is almost always incumbent on newcomers to serve a longer or shorter ap- prenticeship in this lower rank; to be a pensionnaire is to be on the road to the envied state of societaire. To be @ societaire of the Comedie Fran- caise is the very pinnacle of ambition for a French actor. It means not only honor in the profession and high place in the world of art and letters, but also great present emoluments, great ease, luxury and culture, and an old age en the salaried ; granted pensions after ten or twenty years ef service, as the case may be; while sccletaires themselves continue to be “of the house" and its profits so long as they lve. What this really means can only be jated after a visit to the Theatre ancais In the daytime. ‘The Theatre Francais is much more than a mere play house. Like the Opera, it is a ‘monument,” a museum, a great library and an artistte club house for the for- tunates who have the entree to it. Spacious and dignified as are the halls and salons open to the public, they are small and bare in comparison with the part reserved to the actors and actresses alone. The foyer des artistes in particular is a most noble hall: and, what, with the library and museum, the private parlors of the actors and actresses, the spacious and beautiful salle du ccmite and the galons given ‘over to the administration, the great building contains in itself a whole social and artistic world. The whole troupe could live in it without ever having need to go outside the building. Dozens of suppers are nightly served behind the scenes, where actors who are not “on’ for the evening while away the time with chosen friends. After a per- formance fully 500 people may be called behind the scenes to hear the reading of a play or figure in some special social func- tion. And while the plays are going on, the foyer—the one true “green room” of the world—is nearly always filled with notabilities of art, literature, politics and science. The actors and actresses of the Comedie Francaise are in their own home, and {t is a palace to which they are able to invite the best society the capital affords. Accepting a New Piece. The way in which the company accepts a rew piece will give a good idea of the formal decency of all its proceedings. The author—any one may write a plece and offer it—hands over his manuscript to that comedian who happens to be on duty for the week, busied with the “little details” of the troupe—a task which every one must take in turn. This “‘semainier,” by virtue of his office, forms a part of the ‘“‘assem- bly,” which holds its meeting every Mon- day afternoon. The “semainier” presents the new piece to them, whereon they vote to fix a day for its reading. At the reading the author alone has the right to be pres- ent, together with the members of the assembly. After its reading he retires. For the voting each member of the assembly is given three balls—one white, for the simple acceptance of the piece; one mar- bled, for its acceptance with changes, and one black, for absolute refusal. After each actor and actress, in order of seniority, has given expression to his views, the voting takes place. If the decision is simply that changes shall be made in the piece, the author has the right to a second reading, when he thinks he has succeeded. After this second reading a second ballot takes place, this time with only white and black balls. If the piece is received the author seeks the approbation of the police—that 1s, the “censor”—and the piece is on the road to being played—some day—by the great company. The repertoire of the Comedie Francaise is nowadays very modern, despite the duty of the house to keep the memory of the great classics green. The great French classics are Corneille, Moliere, Boursault, Racine, Hauteroche, Regnard, Favart, Beaumarchais, Patrat, Marivaux, Piron, Voltaire—and so en. ‘M. Silvain. In looking over the “Almanach des Spec- tacles” for 1805, I was rather astonished to observe that only twenty-seven of these old Pieces were produced in all the year. These twenty-seven pieces were played, in all, 112 times. The “modern” repertoire in this game year contained some fifty-two sepa- rate pieces, performed, in all, 415 times. Of “new” pieces, never defore produced on avy Stage, there were seven, one of which, the very successful “Cabotins,” had a run of 101 performances. Three other pleces, new to the Theatre Francais, were brought out in the same year. And of all the reper- toire of the “new” there were 228 perform- ances. Any astonishment at such a large number of representations will be instantly dispelled by the reflection that it is the habit of the Theatre Francais to make up its evenings as well as matinees of invaria- bly two pieces, and often three or four. The curtain often rimes at 7:30 p.m., and never later than 8 p.m.-One scarcely ever gets out until after midnight. It is true that the waits between the ‘acts are long. But the actual playing. time is also long, and no one can say he has not.had a good long ‘sitting for his money. ©. * 4 Old and New Pieces. -In another way. the management of the Comedie Francaise is very liberal as weil. In possession of such a large troupe, where- in all work together as a happy family, and having at its command such great re- sources gf scenery. and costumes, the man- agement will not hesitate to reproduce old pieces, either of the “classical” or “mod- ern” repertoire, for a single representation OFFICIAL, AND CIVIL Washington: Society and How to Shine in It. PRY’S ADVICE She Tells wily Young Men Should Come to Washington. only. In.1895 the following classical pieces enly had one representation each: “ Joe Menteur” of Cornelile, “George Dandin’ and “Tartuffe” of Moliere, ‘““Attendez mol sous l’orme” and “Les Follies Amoureuses”” of Regnard, and the “Trois Sultanes’ of Favart. Together with the Odeon, which has the same habit, the Comedie Francaise each year gives a whole series of pieces of historical and literary value rather than of actual present-day interest. One performance of each is often all that the plan calls for. To students of literature and dramatic art they are invaluabl And no theater run exclusively for pri- vate profit would dream of undertaking such a work. Indeed, it fs in details Ii these that the merits of the great state theater shine most brilliantly, and its wisdom as an institution makes itself plain even to the prejudiced. Common as the practice is of staging an old piece for a single night, no new piece is ever given at the Theatre-Francaise—or any other theater in France—for one night omy. No matter how profound has been the failure of a new piece, however dis- agreeable the impression evidently pro- duced on the spectators, the author, in France, has always the right to insist that PAULINE WHAT THY SHOULD DO HE FOLLOWING letter, which I re- ceived a few days ago, seems to me to be not without gen- eral interest: WYALOOSING, Ia., November 19,1896. Dear Madam: —I chanced to come across your article in the Washington Evening Star telling new Congressmen’s y wives how to succeed in Washington society. Having at my dis- posal the opportunity to go to Washington myself as the secretary of a new Congress- man I would be grateful if you would give me some idea of what I may expect in a business and social way. I receive $30 a month here, but I understand the expense of living is so much greater in Washington than in Wyaloosing that any increase of salary I may receive as the Congressman's secretary will not be clear gain. Further- more, I move in the very best society here and am considered one of the best catches in town. If I cared to I could marry the daughter of the wealthiest man in Ala- mokee county tomorrow, and from all this you can readily see I desire to think twice before making a change. “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,” and while I Wouid appreciate the privilege of living at the national capital, in a congressional position which would undoubtedly bring me in touch with Mr. McKinley, whom I greatly admire, I cannot afford to throw away the chances to succeed in life which Wyaloosing affords me. Kindly write to me as if I were your younger brother (in- closed please find stamp for reply), and I shall highly esteem the favor. Respectfully yours, HENRY ——. On reading that letter my first noble im- pulse was to do is the youth asked me, difficult as I might find entering into the fletion of regarding him as my younger brother—a younger brother who would in- clcse a stamp for a reply being a paragon of thoughtfulness, quite outside my ex- perience, and even beyond the power of my imagination to fancy. Thinking the mat- ter over, however, I realized that the need of information this young man expressed 1s doubtless experienced by a great many others in every part of the country, and I determined, therefore, instead of writing a personal letter to him to put my reply in print, and thus act as a sister to every worthy young man whom I may serve in this relation. if An Older Sister's Advice. As a sister, therefore, an old sister, a very cold-blooded, worldly-wise sister, 1 say to any young man with aspirations toward Washington, lose no time in getting here—Washington is the one place on earth where you are certain to command success on your own terms, provided you possess the sole necessary qualification— nerve. That is absolutely all you need to begin with, thovgh good looks will greatly gssist you, and any other social qualitica- tions, such as poor family, a distinguished name, are not to be despised. Why, my dear brothers, let me tell you a bit of history, Two or three years ago a young man came to Washington. His salary was little if any more than a Con- gressman’s secretary. He was handsome and the son of a well-known father. But more than alj.this, his nerve was colossal. He went to the smartest hotel in town to board—on his nerve. He dressed lke the Prince of Wales—on his nerve. He chummed with cabinet officers—on his nerve. He patronized Senators and Repre- sentatives—on his nerve. He jollied so- ciety—on his nerye. He set out to be rich— on his nerve, and now—blessed be nerve—he is worth a cool million. How did he get 1t? Wholly on his nerve; he married it; and, my brothers, you may come to Washington and do the same {f you follow the direc- tions of your knowing older sister. ‘The young man I have described to you had such a superabundance of nerve, he safely undertook certain things {t might be well for you to avold—at any rate until a first season here has braced your nerve for all emergencies. Where to Live. ‘There is the matter of your abode. The smartest hotel in town is very comfort- able, but it is costly, and creature comfort is not necessarily to be considered when you are figuring on a social success. You can lve very cheaply and still produce a brilliant effect upon society, by merely kngwing how. I know where you can get a hall bed room for a song which will permit you carrying a latch key to a very handsome front door. The bed room is equipped with such deliciously ingenious contradictions of everything you expect that it has quite a poster effect. For in- stance, the desk you have only to turn around, and touching a spring, it is your bed. The mirror in the wall, if you press a button, lets down like an upper berth in a sleeping car and is a washstand. The apparent book case in one corner is upon investigation a front of dummy books to conceal the vulgar necessity of a ward- robe. Thus your sleeping abode would have so strictly the appearance of a brary, you would be perfectly safe in speaking of the suite in which you live. Everybody knows you must have a sleeping room, and bring- ing a fellow up for a smoke and chat to your library, he would never guess how your lodgings doubled up to play the part of suite, unless he happened accidentally to touch a button or e spring and let some- thing out, which you could readily guard against his doing. You may even live with less regard for comforts than this place makes possible— live anywhere, in fact, by simply securing a good address. I know of several young men who on some slight pretext arrange with a Senator or Representative residing at a smart hotel to have their mail sent to this hotel. A further arrangement at the hotel office results in the mail being de- livered all right, but the mail is not the point. These fellows then have this smart hotel address engraved on their cards, and thus, for all sgcfal purposes, their resi- dence is satisfactorily established. Hopy, to Dress. As to the matter of clothes. To be well dressed, which ‘ts‘ essential, costs a great deal, and it is for you to determine whether this large item of expense shall be borne by you or your creditors. Yes, I know, among the primitive conéitions of trade in Wya- loosing, Milton Junction, or Butte City, you fancy creditors’ ate impossible to acquire without credit. Jtsis different Ia Washing- ton. They come;ag easy as lying, once you know how. But, of all masterly schemes for dressing well’at the expense of one’s creditors, that practiced with brilliant suc- cess for many years past by a man I know seems to fine the: most perfect. This fellow plays a system. Now, of course, you un- derstand enough ‘about playing a system to realize that it t some money to begin. In this case $26 will do. Then go into. the highest-priced tailor’s you can find. He will rather ingly show you by no means his best goeds. Toss them aside contemp- tuously and demand sharply to be shown the best thing he has. He may stiggestive- ly mention the, price of these, withaut troubling to bring down the goods. Look pleased the instant he names a fancy price and tell him that sounds more Itke what you want. Finally select the smartest thing in his stock, and before he has a chance to say a word about terms, throw your $25 down on the counter, embarrass him with your assumption that, of course, he does not know you, at the same time thrusting under his nose your card bear- ing the ress of the smart hotel, and mention, so doing, that being a newcomer he had best mark anything sent to your address in caré of your old friend Senator Gilt-e@ge. That settles for that suit of efothes, and the rest is even simpler. Gnop Mile. Du Minil. it shall be given three representations. The public may have been badly disposed on the first night, a “cabal” may have been secretly organized against the author, or a wrong tendency may have been hastily or mistakenly ascribed to the piece, which a succeeding performance might remove. For these reasons the “three-nights’ ” rule has so long existed that it has become a part of that usage which makes law. Every theater and amusement place of Paris has its days; that {is to say,its nights, even to such inartistic resorts as the Casi- no and the Moulin Rouge. Sunday night at the Casino, Saturday night at the Moulin, Leloir. Monday night at the Folies-Bergere, Thurs- day night at the Bal Bullier are the fash- fonable nights weekly of these naive re- sorts; and so on throughout the list, up to the pinnacle of art in the Grand Opera. At the Theatre Francais the Thursday mat- inees are particularly for classics; Sunday matinees are given to actual modern suc- cesses; Tuesday nights are the fashionable subscription nights, and Thursday nights belong to the other set of subscribers, much less fashionable. Subscription Nights. This matter of subscription nights con- cerns a very attractive feature of the sub- ventioned theaters and opera houses of France. At the Odeon and Theatre-Fran- cais you may at the beginning of each sea- son “subscribe” to either or both of two Mile Adeline Dudlay. series of performances; the object and na- ture of each is set forth in a long and mi nute proclamation. For example, the series may be designed to illustrate the growth of farce and farce comedy through the cen- turies, in which case they would give per- haps two evenings of middle age buffoon- M. De Feraudy. ery, with appropriate costumes, languages and business. Then would come samples from the ancient ‘Comedie-Italienne,” which flourished in France from the time of Charles IX, on to its breaking up in 1687. So on, quarter century by quarter century the changes of public taste and dramatic progress would be marked by actual repre- sentations of the times. Other subscription series do not promise such historical and literary curiosities, but are designed for those who wish to witness—in an expur- gated condition—the pieces of actual suc- cess at matinees. Such are the “young folks’ matinees,’ where the most tender maiden may be taken with impunity, At night the exigencies of the piece may force the actor to say “damn,” in such and such @ situation; but at these expurgated mat- irees he only will say ‘“‘darn.” And yet, in our thoughtlessness, we accuse the French stage of indelicacy! The subscription nights as distinguished from matinees; that is to say, the Tuesday nights, are real- ly the most fashionable of all the week. Subscribers keep the same seats and boxes throughout the season. Here you will have the minister of the beaux arts, the Baron Gustave de Rothschild; in this loge sits the Duc d’Aumale, in this other the Mar- quis de Ganay. The Baron Guy de la Rochefoucauld, the Banker Hottinger, the prefect of police, the Princesse d’Arem- berg and M. Goldschmidt, all these great celebrities and hundreds of others, sit in their respective places, to be stared at with as great an interest by the spectators, dur- ing the waits between the acts, as are the actors on the stage when the three knocks are given. First nights are naturally thea most scught after of all. The audience is always of al . Apart from critics and the hall is filled with an intel- and fashionable elite that scarcely ever finds itself at first-night in other theaters. ST! HEILI a gman trusts you, he is likely to trust you a second time, rather than by offending you lose all hope of getting what you owe him on the first deal. An occasionally be- stowed $ or $10 will.thus enable you to dress at a cost to your tallor of many times that amount during your Washington ex- perience. You may have to begin with new taflor each season, but this is only a trifling inconvenience, and by the end of the second season you ought to be in si po eatees at the expense of your weall wife. FEATS OF STRENGTH Powers of Endurance as Manifested by the Norwegian Explorer. You may wonder now how, even with a HEROISM OF NANSEN IN THE POLAR SEAS are to have the luck to meet the wealthy Some Stories wife. This is not a matter of luck. It is the exercise of poor nerve. Make calls. But you don’t know anybody and nobody knows you. Fudge and nonsense! What does that tount in Washington? Load yourself witb cards and simply sail in. Begin with the hotels. It is rather. easier to get your merve in condition for besieging private houses. On the days set aside for the several departments of official society to receive you will find large bunches of influential “congressional ladies” receiving at any of How to Get Into Society. Showing Why He is a Hero in Norway. PLUCKY AS .A BOY ——_-—_—_ LTHOUGH THE extraordinary enthu- slasm with which the cold and unen- ‘husiastic Norweg- ians everywhere re- the well-known hotels. Make a heavy ceived Nansen on front of being delighted to see anybody his return home and everybody. As soon as possible ac- inay be attributed quire the impressive manner of greeting a woman which is so popular among mem- bers and attaches of the diplomatic corps. Clasp her hand fervently and bow over It, bending from the waist so eagerly ani | impetuously as to convey to her the im- pression that in your joy to behold and greet her you are barely restrained from embracing her, and desire above all things in the world ‘to kiss her hand, only so many persons are looking. This manner of saying “how 4’ you do” will go a great way in causing women to remember you for your distinguished bearing. After you have talked with a great many women and pretty girls, being careful all the while to acquire the names of as many as possible, do not fail to leave your card before departing. This is absolutely tndis- pensable. It is in doing this that you lay the foundation for your future social .great- ness. You might better neglect to cultivate your tailor at this stage than neglect so important an act as leaving your card. Yaving done this everywhere that you call, you will doubtless complete your first round hungry and disappointed that after all you have read of the free lunches Wash- ington society affords, you have had noth- ing substantial to eat, and in but few places had se much to sustain the Inner man as a cup of wretched tea. You should not then abandon hope of being able to make your social career supply you with meal tickets. In less than a week after you have made your first calls your card will bring to the address of the smart hotel inscribed beneath your name an invitation to Mrs, Senator This-and-That’s and Mrs. Representative The Other's feeding func- tions. You will not at once be asked to dinner. But by pleasant stages you will pass quickly from tea and cakes and salad and biscuits to dinners, luncheons and breakfasts. largely to national pride in the success of a most difficult dertaking, it was ob- vious to all who wit- ZA = = nessed this recep- tion—a memorable sight indeed—that it was also stimulated to a high degree by the personality and the record of a man who may be set down as one of the most striking men of the day. Nansen is a hero in Norway, and that simply because he is a hero, or because at any rate in his character and achievements he approaches closer to the popular interpretation of that title than any man that one knows of. He has the build of one to begin with. He has been compared with the Vikings of old by :he poets of bis country, since his return; but this comparison has been made lorg ago by his countrymen. In- deed the sight of the man, even to one who knows nothing of the extraordinary feats of endurance and courage which he has performed, is enough to remind one of the old Norse heroes, who infused into the Anglo-Saxon race those qualities of courage and endurance which have made What to Avoid. Realizing that men cannot live by nerve alone to the exclusion of food and drink, you will be careful how you associate with the families of Senators or Representatives who board. You know the young man I mentioned at the start as having on a cap- ital of nothing but nerve and the possibili- ties cf Washington society realized profits to the extent of a millionaire wife. You would Go well to follow exactly in his foot- steps in this matter of considering how and where distinguished people live. I re- call walking with him through Lafayette Square one day near the close of his first Season, when he already knew a great deal, though not quite everything belonging ¢ his business, and he pointed out a hand. some house to me, saying, ‘My friend Sen- ator lives there; he has a fine resi- dence, has he not?" The Senator was a man very close to the istration, but not wealthy, and I 1 to know, as I sat “That is not his residence; that is Mrs. 8 boarding house. ou don’t mean it?" gasped the young man, and when I told him it was the truth, he exclaimed: “Well, by jove! that was a narrow escape for me. That Sen- ator has been very civil to me and has in- vited me to call on his daughter, but I'll just cut the whole lot now, if they live in a boarding house. Too bad, really; Sen- alee nice man, and the daughter's jolly pretty. Dr. F. Nansen. the English-speaking people what it is, th predcminant race of the world. He is a man of extraordinary strength, and as to this there are a hundred stories current. As a lad he coulc hold his own against six boys of his own age, so his biographers relate, and as a man he has certainly maintained this proportion. One has heard of the London pickpocket, who, hav- ing attempted to snatch Dr. Nansen’s watch, was gripped by the young Nor wegian, and held fast with one hand in a powerful that, as Mr. Bain has “his wrist was nearly crushed, said that he would rather go to jail for a month than let that gentleman get hold of him ogain.” At Tromso, the other day, when at the Feast of Welcome, he was proposing Captain Sverdrup’s health, he suddenly lifted his shipmate up and held him aloft with one arm, so that evorybody in the crowded hall could get @ sight of the comrade to whom he ad- mits so great an obligation. Training as a Boy. His father, Baldur Nansen, held very strong views on the way in which boys ought to be brought up. For instance, it was a rule at Store-Froen, that the boys, turn and turn about, should wait at table. ‘They were allowed no luxuries, but the A Marble Front. The sang froid of this ts not a circum- stance compared with what this young Napoleon of society was capable of in patronizing great people. He was at a re- ception one evening at the home of a mem- ber of the cabinet, whom he had never so much as seen. During the evening he was very attentive to a pretty girl, whose name he didn’t know, and the girl was so exceedingly pleased she wanted to intro- luxury of every outdoor sport. Till he was sixteen years old Nansen never received mcre than six pence a month pocket morey, and in every other respect was the boyish inclination to self-indulgence check- ed and combated. _On the other hand everything that could develop manliness, self-reliance and ccurage was fostered with the greatest care and attention. Fridtjof was taught to swim when he was four years old and was nearly drowned at the first lesson. Not long afterward he was able to save the life of his brother who was drowning in the icy river at the bottom of the Froen Park, the tirst act of a long series of life- saving acts, which alone should commend him to the affection and gratitude of his fellows. Johansen, his companion on the ice floes, has described in conversation one of the last of these acts of heroism, “I was ahead of Nansen, who was out of sight,” he said, “when a huge polar bear got on to me and knocked me down with a blow of his paw. ‘Nansen,’ I cried, ‘if you don’t shoot this second I’m done for.’ The instant after I heard the crack of his rifle and the bear went over.” He added, “the blow did me more good than harm, for it cleared some of the filth off my face.” His Splendid Nerve. He tells this story as a proof of the splen 4id alertness and promptitu@e and nerve of his leader. Nansen tells it, too, but, as is his way, to show what a fine, eool-hea 4 companion he had in Johansen. “There is not a more courageous, level-headed fel- low in the world than this giant by my side. You ought to have heard the tone in which he said, ‘Nansen, if you don’t shoot at once,’ just as though he were asking me the time of day.” Here, as on ey occasion, one finds Narsen deprec: credit to himeelf in favor of another. One may allude in this connection to the at tude he has all along raaintai the scheme ef Prof. Andree, wh have described as bis rival.’ It one of sympathetic interest, of hope for his success, combined with the of that the result to be expected was not a great one. In whet good stead his physical trainin has stood him in his life has been proved a hundred times over since he his adventurous life. had ft was no Christian a luxury. Already in G shown what a man can do in who has forgotten his ac of raw horse meat w achs of the La < or of the cooker, which was licked clean by the tongue of Balto, One commends these accounts of endurance and privation disre- garded and overcome to the gentlemen who write about the degeneration of the human race, to ihe pessimists who curiously enough look to this very Norway for the light. first be Whcn food was to ba t and water was had he stom- him, The Ability to Plan. More than these qualities which have been described is, however, needed to carry to a sucbessful issue such an enterprise as has made Nansen world famous. It is the quality of being able to work out in each minute detail the plan that is to be follow- ed, of leaving nothing to chance, of fore- seeing rything with mathematical pre- cision—the quality, in fact, which carried Napoleon so far, till neglecting it, he fell. Before Nansen left Norway his calculations had been made with such scientific accu- racy that he was able to hand to a friend @ chart, on which was indicated the route that the Fram would take. It in most exactly the route that the ated al- ram did take, as far as the ship was able to pro- gress. There is a story of an egg which Fridtjot which strongly tian diet, Was cating at breakfast, manifested that it was not C The boy had noticed nothing, were certainly not wool-gatheri periods of mental absorption may be n ticed even today by any one who watch him, even when hig attention might be s posed to be most vividly ged eyes seem to go out, the head dro the hands turned outward. When landed from the Fram on the pier, he was standing, waiting for his com- panions to join and follow him up to the pavillion, where all that is foremost in Nore way waited to give him greeting, thous sands were shouting welcome, guns wi booming from the forts and frigates, men were in ecstasies of hysterical’ wel- coming, and there he stood, unconscious, who knows where? Sending Prescriptions. From Answers, A dector in the highlands of Scotlana, whose patients are scattered over a wide district, takes carrier pigeons with him on his rounds, and sends his prescriptions by them to the apothecary. He leaves pigeons, too, with distant families, to be let loos@ when his services are needed. Sinecure. From the Somerville Journal. Acquaintance—“How much do you pay your typewriter?” Humorist—“Twenty-five dollars a week.’* Acquaintance—“Isn’t that rather a high salary?" Humorist—“Well, yes; but has to write out all my jok ‘ou see, she duce him to her uncle. “Certainly, certairly, with pleasure,” he answered, conveying by his manner a bit of delicate flattery to the girl in his in- sinuated willingness to condescend to meet anybody who was kin to her. Then the girl took him up to the cabinet member, who was very cordial, and said: “Glad to meet you, sir; glad to meet any of my niece’s friends. But it seems to me I have met you before; your face looks famillar.”” “Dare say; dare say,” answered the young man, with lofty tolerance; “can’t well recall you, for the life of me, though, don’t you know, but a fellow meets so many going about, don’t you know.” Then did the secretary, and intimate of all the great men of the country, turn this young man down? Not a bit. He was so tickled with his Beautiful marble front of social superiority that the young man became a frequent visitor at the cabinet minister's house, and married the cabinet minister's niece. Not En Famille. At receptions and similar mixed functions a@ young man entering upon society at Washington must expect to encounter uncles that are not cabinet ministers, and even things of so little importanee as fathers and mothers of pretty wealthy girls. Do not fancy, however, if the girls invite you to dinner you are bound to suf- fer the annoyance of a meeting with her parents. I heard a foreigner the other even- ing express pain over the common habit the girls here have of suppressing their parents at home. “I go to dine en famile, and lo! it is tete-a-tete with the young lady. Papa and mamma I catch rare glimpses of, passing stealthily in the background, but they are not permitted to come to the table. There is nothing to hinder me carrying off both the young lady and the family silver, if I take the fancy.” Now you, my dear brothers in Wyaloos- ing and elsewhere, having the fancy to carry off not only the pretty girl, but more especially the family silver, perceive from all that I have told you how very simple and free from difficulties a successful career at Washington is. I consider it the one chance in a young man’s life to have the opportunity to get to Washington. If I were any,of you, my dear brothers every- where, I would come as secretary to a Con- gressman or even as a Congressman. I would stoop to almost anything to reach this bargain counter in pretty girls and large fortunes. Of course, some local influence may in- cline you to think differently, but that is the broad, unbiased judgment of your af- fectionate sister, PAULINE PRY. ——_._—_. Establishing a Precedent. From the Chicago Post. “That gas bill is a dollar higher than ever before,” he sald. “I know it, my dear,” she replied. “But, you know, one of the children was sick and we burned more gas than usual.” “Oh, I suppose it can’t be helped,” he re- turned, regretfully. “It does seem, though, as if sverything was conspiring to bank- rupt me.” 5 “Why, a dollar isn’t much,” she protested. “Of course not,” he admitted; “but if you had been paying tho gas bills as long as I have you'd realize what it is to establish such @.precedent as this, That one. bill will «put us jn a new class at the gas office, and they’ll make their estimates upon the new basis. I don’t believe they'll ever let us get back to the old figure again.” —__-2-—____ : ‘That Old Story. From the Chicago Record. * “Did you read about the man Whose Hfe was saved by a pie?” “No, how was it?" | Z “Well, his dear little Wife made it, set it in the window to cool and a tramp came along and stole it” ~ : From Filegende Blatter. A STORY WITHOUT WORDS. a