Evening Star Newspaper, December 19, 1896, Page 19

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1896—28 PAGES. CHAT WITH HARRIS A Visit to the Remus Stories. HIS HOME IN GEORGIA AND HIS WORK | He Talks About His Method of Writing and of Books. > _— LOVE FOR CHILDREN a fe 2MUSs" 18 one of the saints of U ‘The Holiday Sea- son.” He is almost as much a part of hildren’s lives ‘a Claus. and I cannot give a bet- ter Christmas letter than the story of my visit to him at his home in Atlanta, a few days ago. Jo | Chandler Har- » real name of Remus” stories, than his books. He but his manners y man, er ard his talk so stmple and . that you fall in love with him His hair is of a fiery red. After ow him it to turn to gobi. features,which I venture would 1 become transfig- h you He is, and whe: form shakes laugh her fa his rotund wl of jelly, and his “Ha! Ha! Ha forth in as clear tor those of boy to whom the “itrer Rabbit” and Baby story told for the first He ts, howeve nfully modest. always dep: ting himself, and hat he told me he could not Y people thought so much of He is especially backward in © of we He is more bash- “l Chandler Harris. rew at forty-five t he an was as a boy dov whether he knows any wom intimately except his wife He is know, a newspaper man as well a He fs connected with the A onstitutic and for years he did ial work at the office of the r € $s it all at home. > room ng to the roof of » get rid of them, he his home. He never om attends the th s in his work and in his Where “Uncle Remus” ‘The house of “Unele Remu: Lives. "4s an idéal one. It is a rambling Queen Ann cot- tage, containing about nine rooms, all of whic are on one floor. Below this re is a basement and above it an attic, and about it runs a vine-covered porch big encugh to hold “Brer Rabbit” “and all his ds, should they happen to call. It one of the prettiest suburbs of At- lanta, and still it has a big enough yard to make it a sort of a country estate, as well as a city home. It contains more than five acres of land and its surround- are those of a farm. We walked back through the fields before we entered the house to look at the donkies which the young Harris children ride, and to pat the two beautiful yellow Jersey cows, which are among Mrs. Harris’ pets. There is a big chicken yard just back of the house, ard a lot of brother and sister chickens were running to and fro as we looked through the netting. “Uncle Remus” tock an almost childish delight In showlag me his possessions. He pointed out his big strawberry bed. where he raises the most luscious fruit, and told me how his asparagus was ready for the table at the first of the season. We walked among flowers and spent some ume in admiring his roses, which, though ft was then al- most winter, were still blooming. He has, I venture, more than one hundred rose bushes, and he told me that he had in his garden sixty-seven different v. rieties. He sald he would have a thou- sand if he were rich enough, and as I saw him handle the flowers I could see that ne loved them. We sat a moment on the porch and then entered the wide hall, which runs through th house 1 into which the living rocms t the back fs the parlor, and at left the sitting room and work shop. here is nothing of the machinery of a newspaper editor or literary man to be Been “ee Remus" «3 but few books fn his werk. A pen a few of blank printing paper neede make the “Unc re all Remus’ Mr. Harris handles these, and wits his short siub pencil touches the hearts and tickles the sides of millions. He does his writing with his family about him t beby stories his elbow been “written with a How “Uncle Remus” Was Written. Mr. Harris is fond of children. He has been told thousands of times how fond the ehildren are of him, but when I told him that my boy Jack knew his “L stories by that cart, my Ittle was fi love with “Brer Rabbit” and ‘ Fox" he scemed pleasec, and I sald: “It must be a great pleasure to write for chil- “Indeed is replied Mr. Harris. “I enjeyed the writing of the ‘Uncle Remi stories. It was not hard work, and I be- Meve I got as much fun out of their con- vervation as the children seemed ta get from hearing them read. I could see how the children liked them. but it has alwavs been a wonder to me that grown-up people read them with interest. In fact. today I rather question the veracity or the sanity of the who tells me man he ts fond of ‘Uncle Remus.’ “Brer Rabbit's” First Appearance. “When did you tell your first ‘Uncle Remus’ story, Mr. Harris?" I asked. ‘It was in 1878," wus the reply: “just abcut eighteen years ago. I was writing for the Atlanta Constitution. I had beeun my newspaper work, you know, as a boy of twelve. when I left home to learn to set type for a rich planter, who was publish- ing a little paper of his own near our c try town tn Georgia. I had risen from t typesetting case to the editorial desk, and had had some experience in connection with the newspapers of Savannah and other places, and now I was employed upon the Constitution writing editorials, Ittle stories and such other matter as seemed interest- ing to me. I wrote the first ‘Uncle Remus’ sketch for the Sunday paper, and handed it to the printers, not deeming it of special value. It was published, and was copied into other pi My friends spoke to me about ft, and I hotperirol ap ae more. Among the papers which copied the article was the New York Evening Post. This thor of the Uncle | | surprised me, as the Post, you know, is a very sedate paper, and it seems to keep as far as possible from the frivolous. Well, I wrote more of the sketches. They were also quoted, and within a short time ‘Uncle | Remus’ and his tales became a regular fea- | ture of my work.” His First Book. “When were the ‘Uncle Remus’ stories first published in book form?’ It was in 1880, The Appletons then pub- | lished the book entitled ‘Uncle Remus, his. songs end his saying: The book was well reviewed by the press, and the Saturday Review of London gave it a page. This started it well in America. The Boston papers followed with good reviews, and I prised to see that it every- well spoken of.” = ist have been delighted,” sais replied “Uncie Remw ictle seared, too. The surprise that I did not know what to make “How did the book sell?” Ms “It had quite a large circulation,” replied Mr. Harris. “I wrote, you know, several mere along the same lines, and they all a steady sale, both in England and United States.” Origin of “Uncle Remus.”” “Where did ‘Uncle Remus’ come from, Mr. Harris?” said I. He was born, I think, at my home in Putnam county, Ga.,”" was the reply. “But Mr. Harris, tell me, did he ever really exist in the fiesh, or 1s he simply the creation of your fancy?” % G replied Mr. Harris. “The ‘Uncle of my stories is a composite of three or four old negrocs, whom I knew as y. I have combined then and perhaps have edded something to them. Tut the ‘Uncle Remus’ of ilction is chietly made up from them. ““I suppose he really exists as an indi- viduality in your mind.” said I. ‘ “Yes, indeed,” répiied Mr. Harris. “I can see him before my eyes as piainly as I sce 1. 1 know him. I can hear him talk, i his voice rings in my ears as I write. hey Are Genuine Negro Tales. ut, Mr. Harris, are the stories those which are really told on the planta- tions by the darkies, or are they made up ef whole cloth?” the “They are in most cases the stories of plantation replied Mr. Harris. “They are the folk-lore of the negro. I suppose many of them have come down through the ages from Africa. I am told that some of them are almost the same as the stories of the folk-lore of Indi “Why is it, Mr. Harris, ‘that ‘Brer Rab- bit™ generally the hero of these tales? Why do the negrces pick him out as the most telligent and cunning of the ani- mals? s I don’t know,” was the reply. ‘The fact is, the rabbit has a low, rather than a high, degree of animal intelligence. The hero of many of the folk-lore stories of the orien- tals is the hyena, which, you know, is the meanest of beasts.” “Uncle Remus” Dead. “But you have not written any ‘Uncle Remus’ stories for some years, Mr. Har- ris.” o, I am done writing them. ‘Uncle Remus’ has finished his story telling. He has posed before the public for more than fifteen yea and it is time now that he stepped down and out. You may say, in short, that ‘Uncle Remus’ is dead. “But you do not intend to stop writing, Harris?” ‘0, indeed, was the rep I suppose, as long as I live Why “Brer Tarrypin” Failed to Fly. Here I asked “Uncle Remus” to write me a little story for the child readers of this article. He thought for a moment, and then taking his pencil he rapidly wrote the following, which I give you verhaiim as he perned it: Carpenter has asked me to write of a sentimenit—a piece of my children. ember the y where Brer urypin wanted to learn to fly. He had seen brer Buzzard sailing in the air and Mi 1 shall write, » thought he could sail, too. So he per- suaded Brother Buzzard to take nim on his back and give him a starz. This was done. Brother Buzzard carried Brother Tarrypin in the fell, of course, rand dropped him. He and nearly kilied himself. He was very angry with Brother Buzzard, not because he failed to fly, but because Brother Buazard failed to show him how to light. he: ‘Flyin’ is easy as fallin’, but I don’t ck I kin larn how to light.’ s a don't know what th means ask » person. Before you begin and learn how to light! I. CHANDLER HARRIS.” Uncle Remus” Writes. -d over the siory of Brer Tarry- pin and Brer Buzzard I asked Mr. Harr’ if he found writing very hard work. “No,” replied ‘Uncle Remus. “I write, J . about two thousand words of ed torial every day. This I have been doing so long that it goes very eusliy. You take a od subject, put your pen on the pa- per and the editorial writes itself. This ts my work: in the day time. My story writ- ing is done at night. I usually begin it after tea when the children have gune to bed. I then pick up the story where I have left off and write away until bed time.” “How mp of this do you consider a good evening’s work?" “About one thousand words,” replied Mr. Harris. page writing is easy for me. I like it, ard when I am tired from my other work I take it up and soon feel rest- ed. It is rather amusing work, you know, and does not-require much care.” “I should think you would have to re- Vise it over and over again.” on the contrary,” was the reply. “I revise very little. I have not the time, and the work is such that it does not re- quire it. It is, I think, work for the day. I don’t suppose it will last.” “Is net dlaiect writing an recent years?” Yes." replied the great dialect writer of the south. “It seems so. Waiter Scott was among the first of our uuthors who used it largely. Burrs wrote many of his poems in dialect, and Tennyson, you know, wrote much dialect verse. Chaucer was written in the languag= of his time, and it ts cu- rious that in some respects the dialect used then was somewhat the me as that of the plantations today.” “Uncle Remus’ Book Loves. Mr. Harris has always been fond of the old English classt The simplicity of his style was largely cultivated through his study of the great English authors during his boyhced. As he talked thus of Chaucer and other writers I wondered s had most influenced him, to tell me something of aying I supposed that he invehtion of 2) was the reply. hard for me to say what boo: much effet upon my wor “But to type on the p ition T found that employer had a large li- brary. He kindly allowed me to borrow such books as"I wished, ard among th which I read first was the ‘Vicar of W field.” simplicity lelighted me, and I l again. I think T could ss of it. L still read it enjoy first saw it Another it almost as much us when 1 It is so genuine, you know. author whom J especiilly like is Sir Thomas Browne. It is a. strang thing that though this man had a librar of perhaps two thousand volumes, bracing the works of modera well as the English classics, that I in most cases took io the c‘assic: The Bible a “Uncle Remus’ ligion. “Then agother book that I read a good eal,” Mr. Harris went on “is the Bible. It ts one of the best books in Hterature. I like it and I read it more and more.” “What portion do you read most?’ “The New Testament,” replied “Uncle emus.” “I especially ike Paul's Epistles i the Gospels. I am very fond of parts of the Old Testament. They seem to fit Into my nature at ceriain times, and there are hours when a chapter or so of Ec- claestics seems especially appropriate.” iy the way, Mr. Harris, what is your religion, anyhow ‘Uncle Remus” thought a moment and then said rather soberly: “That is a dif- question to answer. I hardly know elf. I can only say I believe in all good men and all,zood women. I should not want to live ff I had no faith in my fellow men.” FRANK G. CARPENTER. ee Bed for Bad. From the New York Telegram. Barber—“This is a bad quarter, sir.” Cus tomer—“That's all right. I had a bad shave.” Re- al FROM DEATH TO LIFE Joys and Sorrows of Christmas Times During the War. AWASHINGTON WOMAN'S EXPERIENCE How She Lost and Found Her Husband on Christmas Day. IN PRISON AS A SPY Written for The Evening Star. A few squares northeast of the Capitol resides a widow lady, Mrs. Lee, who, while erjoyirg the Christmas festivities of 1896, cannot forget some of her experiences dur- Ing the festal days of 1861 and 18@. The first was the most gloomy she had ever spent, for her husband, the only wage- earner in the family, had been captured and,gaken to a southern jail a few months before, and just before Christmas she had learned, from an apparently authentic source, that he had been hanged; and those of 1862 the most cheering, for the husband and father had returned a few weeks be- fore, and though a physical wreck, he helped the family to enjoy the occasion. Her husband, Mr. A. H. Lee, was at the commencement of the war a well-known painter in the northern part of the city, and had come kere with his family a few years before from Calvert county, Md. He hed his shop on K street near Sth northwest, and with his family lived near by. In appearance he was one of those enigmas of humanity, apparently so deli- cate in health as to make one wonder how he was able to walk much less than to perform a man’s share of labor, and no one would suppose for an instant that he would be able to perform military or any other service for the gcvernment. He was a man of strong mind, cool,. calculating and of ready wit, and being in thorough sympathy with the government, when the war broke out, he applied to Gen. Mans- field” for work in the cause. His appear- ance personally was against his employ- ment, and although the authorities were satisfied that his personal knowledge of people in southern Maryland, supposed to be in sympathy with the rebellion, could be used to advantage, he was thanked for his offer and told that when needed he would be called on. The secret service, or mili- tary detective system, was then being evolved, and such was the condition of af- fairs that it was difficult to ascertain who was for or against the government, and there was more or less voluntary work by private citizens. A Volunteer Detective. Mr. Lee became impatient for work, and hearing daily of information being fur- nished the government by others, he deter- mined to take a “'go-as-you-please” commis- sion, ard do some work on his own account. He having lived a number of years in the lower part of Maryland, and through his business having formed a large acquaint- ance with the people, was convinced that the sympathies of a number were with the south, and some were aiding in keeping open a mail route to and from the confed- ere He had become aware that much of contraband mail was sent from and d in Washington, and determined to learn the details of the business, and if possible the active agents in it. Leaving his family, Mrs. Lee and three children, os- teneibly to louk for work, he followed some of Fis clues, and succeeded in obtaining, in the course of his two weeks’ absence, such valuable information as to locate the con- federate pest office in Washington. This he at once communicated to the military, authorities, and it resulted in the seizing, at a store near the Center market, of a number of contraband letters and papers. This work gave him a standing, and he was recognized by Gen. Mansfield as a trusted exent of the military service. As, however, he was to make the iower ‘Poto- mac the scene of his operations, it was not Icng before he was directed to report to the Navy Department and work in con- nection with the Potomac flotilla. A Sudden Halt. On August 8 of that year the stage for Leonardtown had him as a passenger, and he * quite confident that on the trip he would be enabled to completely break up the Potomac route for the clandestine trail; and, indeed, he then had, in his mind, the locations of several stations on the Maryland side. After verifying one or two matters of debate he was to communi- cate with the gunboat Yankee, and strict attention was to be paid to the points in question, but suddenly his career as a de- tective came to an end. This was effected, {t was thought, by one regarded by the family as their most intimate personal friend, and when in after days the family here and the husband con- fined in prison tried to conjecture’ how he had been found out and captured, they could not recall any circumstance but one which might have led to his betrayal. This was that on a visit to the home by the supposed friend one of the children had unwittingly mentioned the name of a per- son residing in southern Maryland with whom the friend was acquainted and at whose place the secret agent had spent some days, and they were quite certain that the friend surmised from this fact that the husband was engaged in watching op- erations, and communicated his suspicions to parties living in that section. Mr. Lee had on his previous trips excited no sus- picion, for his two or three trips had been made in his working clothes, with a bundle of overalis and a few brushes, and what books and papers he carried apparently pertained to his work of painting, but he had in his mind his instructions, and a small amount of money in his pocket. Took to the Woods. Mr. Lee was an inveterate joker and talker, and it was a common saying among his friends that he could joke in the face of death, but they little expected that his quick wit would one day save him from death by hanging. He took the stage from Marshall's, on C street between 4% and 6th streets, and the monotony of the trip was relieved by story and joke, and his fellow-passengers en- joyed them. When in the evening he was set down at the tavern door, with his thoughts on supper, he found that his arri- val had caused much interest, and that there were some suspicous movements being made. He soon learned that if caught he ould not live to tell the tale. Then he made for the woods and swamps, and he disappeared in them not a minute too soon; for as he walked hither and thither he sev- eral times heard his pursuers, and more than once got a sight of some of the party. His general course was toward the river, and he hoped by daylight to reach it, and to be able to communicate with a gun- boat. So near did they come upon him that it required the greatest caution on his part, but after traveling, he thought, for thirty miles, the following day he was finally cap- tured and taken to a farm house near the river, where he was guarded till night. Then a party, over a dozen, in a large seine boat, rowed him across the river, and, after janding, proceeded to hold a parley, and discussed what disposition they should make of him. Some suggested shooting, but others objected that it would be too much honor to put him out of the way as a soldier, when he was a spy; and they de- cided that as a spy he should hang. Un- der guard, between two trees, he had heard the discussion, but he showed no sign ot fear, nor did his wit forsake him. The leader, approaching him, said: “Ybdu have heard what your doom is. You are to be hung, and if you have anything to say or preparations to make, we will give you a little time.” “Gentlemen, if you hang me, you want to do it properly, break my neck; don’t you?” he asked.- “Yes,” was answered in a chorus. “Well,” said he, laughingly, “how can you break my neck, as light as lam? You had better wait till you can get a fifty-six- pound weight to tie te my heels. This remark caused a general laugh, and the crowd admiring his pluck, the execu- uon was postponed. They then started over the country to meet some confederate troops, and in a few days he was lodged in the Henrico county jail. Im Jail as 2 Spy. 5 Time wore on, and family and friends knew not his whereabouts, but the wife felt that he was -yet alive and refused to believe reports which were sent her that he had been hung. These came to her, from time to time, and,more than one came by letter, from parties in southern Maryland, who claimed to‘know. The wife was then quite handsome and attractive, and although having the care of threc children, which keot her, when not out in- quiring for tidings of her husband, a‘ home, at least one gentleman with matri. mony in view sought to make her believe that she was indeed a widow, but she re- Ppelled his advances, assuring him that she felt that she should see her husband again, and if not she would live true to his memory. Finally some of-his friends de- termined to ask the intervention of the War Department in obtaining informa- tion as to his whereabouts or death. It so happened that a friend of the family (a reporter of The Star) came into posses- sion of a Richmond paper (taken from a prisoner of war), in whith he found the advertisement of a form-r friend of the lost husband. This was in the provost marshal’s office, and he made arrange- ments with an officer*that a letter from Mrs. Lee, addressed to her husband’s for- mer friend, should be passed through the lines, and a few days thereafter such let- ter was sent. Dire News of His Death. ‘Whether the letter was delivered to the proper party, or whether he made a mis- take in the answer, is not known, but just before Christmas a letter was received by Mrs. Lee, purporting to come from the party, in which he said that her husband had a few weeks before “been hanged as a@ spy between two nigger thicves;” that he had not known his old friend was near ull _too late, but he had claimed the body, had it decently interred at Hollywood, and whenever the lines were opened he would see to the shipment of the body to her. Although the wife could not get the thought from her mind that her hus- band was still alive, the letter apparently came so direct and appeared to be genuine that she deemed it her duty to the com- munity to put on the widow’s garb. ‘Thus Christmas day of 1861 fovnd a family in mourning for a husband and father, who had suffered the most ignominious mode of deat, and as may be imagined in the hum- ble heme there was a night or shadow, which in spite of. efforts to the contrary cast a gloom on the festivities of the day. In a few months, to economize, the fam- ily moved to a modest little frame house near the marine barracks. Mrs. Lee was not, however, without friends, and man- aged to eke out an existence by the use cf her needle. It was then that, in her plain mourning, she looked more charming than ever, and it was not long before more than one admirer sought to pay addresses to her. As before, she firmly adhered to her determination, be her husband alive or dead, to bear his name to the grave, and dismissed them. Though bound by the custom of the times, and in view of the apparent truth of the Richmond friend's letter, and the many seemingly authentic reports of her husband's death to wear the widow's weeds, she never was quite recon- ciled to her situation, and her constant prayer was that she might eventually see kim alive. Thus she lived, and as time wore on the friends of Mr. Lee settled down to the opinion that he was dead and that Mrs. Lee was justified in living as his widow. From the Grave. On the morning of December 3, 186%, a reporter of The Star, in gathering news, made his daily call on Major E. M. Camp at the Soldiers’ Rest, near the B. and O. depot, and there learned of the rival of a number of exchanged civi prisoners, late the night before, a being furnished him. list ‘The name of Lee was on the list, but the reporter failed to connect it with his old friend, who he sup- posed to be dead. In Boin@ among those who were still at the Rest the reporter was informed that the beeowho came with them was the K street painter, and he had left to look up his fémily. This was enough, and the reporteryat once has:ened to the residence of Mrs. fee, Arriving at the home near the barracks and knocking the reporter opened the Joor exclaiming, “Where is 34r.:Lee? “What do you mean? Mau know he is dead,” answered Mrs. Lee. 05 “I know nothing of tixe:kind,” replied the reporter, “but I know that Mr. Lee is alive and in the city. dod “You are joking. . you -are not telling the truth,” said the supposed widow. “I am telling the truth,,,.,dfe arrived last night and started to find. ygu.” “Oh, bless God,”, she_exclaimed. My prayers are answered,’” her face brighten- ing, and putting her: @ands to her eyes she broke into alternate; ijs of laugater and sobbing, during. wijieh. the chirdren danced, laughed and cried for joy, exciaim- ing, “Where is papa?’’. It wag some time before Mrs. Lee got over the excitement, but finally she went to her former home and ascertained that Lee had spent the night with a friend, on 7th street, and had been called to the War De- partment, and she followed there to find that he had been sent to her residence. Re- turning she found that he had preceded her but a short time, and weak as he was (for his experience had left him a veritable walking skeleton), he was endeavoring to ‘caress the overjoyed children, who looked on him as one returned from the grave. Joyful Christhans. That the meeting of husband and wife was a joyful one may be easily imagined, and Christmas day, 1862, was a happy one. Mr. Lee, however, failed to recover his health, and after six months’ suffering, died at his home—thus the prayers of Mrs. Lee were answered. During the months of Mr. Lee's incar- ceration she continually prayed that she might at least bury him should she not be permitted te see him. Mrs. Lee has, with her children and grandcnildren, spent many Christmases since, and bids fair te spend many more. She vividly remembers the Christmases of ’61 and ‘62, and when the anniversary comes cannot but recall the days when she was looked on as a widow, and the last days in the life of her husband. There was some difficulty in obtaining a pension in Lee’s behalf, or that of the widow and childrea, as he was not an officer or enlisted man of either the army or navy, but some years after the widow secured an acknowledgment of his services through a special act of Congress granting her a pension. J. K. GUNN, =e WHAT A GILDED DOME CosTSs. ‘The Masanchusetts State House Gets a Gold Coat Every Twelve Years. From the Boston Transcript. A good many persons haye been growling lately about the appearance of Boston's chief pride, the gilded dome, which used to crown the city before so many high build- ings were put up, and which still reigns in somewhat diminished majesty on the sum- mit of Beacon Hill. The dome 1s looking quite dingy, and has been so for some time, but there is no likelihood that it willl be regilded before the work on the interior has been finished. This probably will be in less than a year, and, although it has not been definitely decided, Sergeant-at-Arms Adams is of the opinion that the dome will be regilded as soon as this work is finished. Before that it would no®be worth while, as the work which is going’ orf in the interior would be likely to disturb the surface, and even with what little’has' already been done, two or three patthed of the gilding have been knocked off from the east side. According to precedent, the dome is not due for a regilding fon a number of years to come. The last regilding was done in 1888, eight years ago, and/from that time back to the renovation before it was a much longer period, as the latter took place in 1874, fourteen years before. The average time: between regildii igs about twelve years, and has never i less than ten, under ordinary circumstanees, so that in the natural course of things nothing would be done to the dome for at Jeast four years ‘The work going on, hawever, and the Sre Winch occurred under the dome awhile ago have made it look so bad that it probabl) will be regilded as soon as this can be done safely. =e The work is one of a‘ good deal of ex pense, costing usually about $5,000. Of this the goldleaf is the prinzipal item, as this usually costs more than $2,000. In the last regilding 392 packages of the finest leat were used. Twenty gallons of gold sizing were used in putting it on, and there were 875 days’ labor in the regilding alone. An- other considerable item is the putting up and taking down again of the staging which the men must have to work upon. This costs nearly $900, and in the last re- gilding there were used 7,812 feet of spruce and 295 pounds of nails, while 98 days’ skilled carpentry and 68 days’ ordinary la- ber were used on the staging alone. The work has to be done with the greatest care, and the workmen all have to be surrounded with @ canvas screen to keep the wind ‘from blowing the goldleaf away. like sarsaparilla, the best that is That’s it. in medicinal val farther. years of cures, PHILOSOPHER DOOLEY ON CHARITY. Hin Idea of the Kind of People to Get Help. From the Chicago Post. “Whin th’ col’ spell comes along about Chris'mas time,” said Mr. Hennessy, opea- ing the stove door and lighting a small piece of paper which he conveyed to the bowl of his pipe with much dexterity, just snaring the last flicker with his first noisy inhalation, “whin th’ col’ weather comes ‘on I wish thim Grogans down in th’ alley’d move out. I have no peace at all with th’ ol’ woman. She has me r-runnin’ in night an’ day with a pound of t or a flannel shirt or a this-or-that-or-th’-other thing, an. ‘tis on’'y two weeks ago, whin_ th’ Weather was, warrum, she tol’ me Mrs. Grogan was as ongrateful a cow an’ smelled so iv gin ye cud have th’ deleeryam thremens if ye sat with her f'r an hour. “What ye shud do,” said Mr. Dooley, “is to get yeer wife to join an organized char- ity..0h’ throuble with her is she gives to, onworthy people an’ in a haphazard Way that tinds to make paupers. if they’se annything will make @ person on- grateful an’ depindent it's to give thim Something to eat whin they're hungry with- out knowin’ whether they are desarvin’ iv th’ delicate attinUion. A man, or a woman ayether, has to have what ye may call peculiar qualifications f'r to gain th’ lump iv coal or th’ pound iv steak that an or- ganized charity gives out. He must be honest an’ sober an’ industhrious. He must have a frind in th’ organization. He must have arned th’ right to beg his bread be th’ sweat iv his brow. He must be uble to comport himself like a gintleman in fair society an’ play a good hand at whist. He must have a marridge license over th’ pianny an’ a goold-edged Bible on th’ mar- ble-topped table. A pauper that wud dis- believe there was a God afther thrampin’ th’ sthreets in search iv fvod an’ caimin’ an onreasonable stomach with th’ east wind is no object iv charity. What he needs is th’ attintion iv a polisman. I've aften wondhered why a man that was fit to dhraw a ton iv slate coal an’ a gob iv liver fr'm th’ relief an’ aid society didn’t apply fr a cabinet position or @ place in a bank. He'd be sthrong f’r ayether. “I mind wanst there was a woman lived down near Main sthreet be th’ name iv Clancy, Mother Clancy th’ kids called her. She come fr’m away off to th’ wist, a Gal- way woman fr’m bechune mountain an’ sea. Ye know what they ar’re whin they’re black, an’ she was worse an’ black She Was tall an ‘thin, with a face white th’ way a corpse is white, an’ she had wan child, a lame la’ad that used to play be himsilf in th’ sthreet, th’ lawn bein’ limited. I niver heerd tell iv her havin’ a husband, poor thing, an’ what she’d need wan f’r, but to dhrag out her misery f’r her in th’ gray year sivinty-foor, I cudden’t say. She talk- ed to hersilf in Gaelic whin she walked, an’ "twas Gaelic she an’ th’ kid used whin they wint out together. Th’ kids thought she was a witch an’ broke th’ windows iv her house, an’ lvry wan was afraid iv her but th’ little priest. He shook his head whin she was mintioned, an’ wint to see her wanst in awhile, an’ come away with a throubled face. = “Sivinty-foor was a hard winter f'r th’ r-road. Th’ mills was shut down an’ ye cud've stood half th’ population iv some iv th’ precincts on their heads an’ got nothin’ but five day’s notices out iv thim. Th’ nights came cold, an’ bechune relievin’ th’ sick an’ givin’ extremunction to th’ dyin’ an’ comfortin’ th’ widows an’ orphans, th’ little priest was sore pressed fr'm week’s end to week’s end. They was smallpox in wan part iv th’ wa-ard an’ diphtheria in another, an’ bechune th’ two there was starvation an’ cold an’ not enough blankets on th’ bed. ° “Th’ Galway woman was th’ las’ to com- plain. How she iver stud it as long as she did I lave f’r others to say. Annyhow, whin she come down to Halsted sthreet to make application f'r help to th’ Society fr th’ Relief iv th’ Desarvin’ Poor she looked tin feet tall an’ all white cheek bones an’ burn- in’ black eyes. It took her a long time to make up her mind to go in, but she done it an’ stepped up to where th’ reel-estate man Dougherty, cheerman fv th’ comity, was standin’, with his back to th’ stove, an’ his hands undher his coat-tails. They was those that said Dougherty was a big hear- rted man an’ give freely to th’ poor, but I'd rather take rough-on-rats fr’m you, Hinnissy, thin sponge cake fr’m him or th’ likes iv him. He looked at her, finished a discoorse on th’ folly iv givin’ to persons with a bad moral charackter, an’ thin It’s whatisit. pqeeenoeeenE GOSSSSS SSSSSSOSESSOOOSCS ® The Patent Whatisit! It looks like sarsaparilla, smells like sarsaparilla, tastes Stop! name on the bottle? Is it Ayer? Then it is sarsaparilla; it is sarsa.. made. But the other and smells and tastes like sarsaparilla. It’s a conundrum. Ayer’s Sarsaparilla, alone, is made exclusively from the imported Honduran sarsaparilla plant, the variety richest ue and healing power. why one bottle of Ayer’s does as much work as three bottles of any other kind. At least, that is what people say who've tried others, and then tried Ayer’s. There’s George Smith, Druggist, of Seymour, Conn., for example, who writes: benefit from one bottie of Ayer’s Sarsaparilla than by using half a dozen bottles of any other kind.” sort of record Ayer’s Sarsaparilla is living up to. imitate the remedy; they can’t imitate the record---s0 Send for the “Curebook.” 100 pages, 16 half-tones, bound in Royal Holland. Free. Address: J. C. Ayer Co., Lowell, Mass. turned suddenly an’ said: ‘What can we do fr ye? She told him in her own way. “Well, me good woman,’ says he, ‘ye'll un- dherstand that th’ comity is much besieged be th’ imporchunities iv th’ poor,’ he says, ‘an’ we're obliged to limit our alms to thim that desarves thim,’ he says. ‘We can't do anything f'r ye on ye're own say so, we'll sind a man to invistigate ye're case. an’,” he says, ‘if th’ raypoort on ye’er moral charackter is satisfacthry,’ he ys ‘we'll attind to y “I dinnaw what it was, but th’ matther popped out iv Dougherty’s head — an nayether that day nor th’ nex’ nor th’ nex” afther that was annything done f'r th’ Ga way woman. I'll say this fr Dougherty, that whin th’ thing come back to his mind again he put on his coat an’ hurried over to Main sthreet. They was a wagon in th’ et, but Dougherty took no notice iv it. walked up an’ rapped on th’ dure, an little priest stepped out, th’ breast iv overcoat bulgi ‘Why, father,” he ar-re ye here? I jus’ come f'r to see ‘Peace,’ said th’ little priest, closin’ th’ dure behind him an’ takin’ Doughefty be th’ ar-rm. “We were both late.’ But ‘twas not till they got to th’ foot iv th’ stairs that Dougherty noticed that th’ wagon come fr’m th’ county undertaker, an’ that “twas th’ chalice made th‘ little priest's coat to bulge. ee MARITAL VOWS DISREGARDED. A Quarter of a MI m Sinners in a New York City. From the Philadelphia Record. There has been a good deal of gossip over the staterrent made by Dr. Charles H. Parkhurst in his Thanksgiving sermon that there are at least a quarter of a million un- faithful husbands and wives in the com- munity. The minister, however, is certain that he did not overestimate the matter. In his sermen, Dr. Parkhurst, among other things, said: “The love between husband and wife is kept true in scme cases by the possession of children, but I have learned enough to know that in the case of any couple that might present themselves before me to be married I would not at any rate of pre- mium issue an insurance policy on their conjugal felicity good for more than five years, unless on the contingency of off- spring or on the basis of their common faith in God. “If a lady goes to the store and buys an article that she is sure is marvelously cheap, ge cannot understand how such a piece of hand-made goods can be procured at so pitiable a figure, she knows, if she knows anything about the world she lives in and the industrial conditions that pre- vail, that sdme poor girl in some sickly back alley has been half paid for her work, and she, the elegant lady going shop- ping in her carriage, gets the benefit of it. This city is full of this, and so is every other city. She does not kill the girl out- right, but she helps to kill her by inches.” Mrs. Elizabeth B. Grannis, president of the Social Purity League, thought Dr. Parkhurst erred in placing the number at a quarter of a million. “There are more than that,” she said, “and the most of them are in the upper circles of societ: “Here is society running around to save the miserable 40,000 depraved women in the city. What are they compared with the trore than 20,000 married persons who are no better than they? “Dr.Parkhurst tells us about these things, and they are all too true, but he does not prescribe any remedy for them. I do not believe what he says about there being no faithful love without religion or a belief in a Father in heaven. I have seen too many cases where there has been faithful love without religion. What we want Is some one to preach and carry forward a law on the subject. . “There is not the semblance of a law pro- tecting marriage in the state of New York. —+2-- A Gentle Hint. From the Cincinnati Enquirer. Bobby—“Popper, what is the wire nail trust?” Mr. Ferry—“I don't know whether I can explain it to you exactly. Perhaps you had better ask your mother. And also tell her, by the way, that your poor father said he had been trusting a wire nail to act as suspender button for the past three days. “I will guarantee more th 7 S@Osec: “4 What is the kind, that looks What is it? Give it up. Possibly, this is BOoe@ Ps Peo | Some go That’s the Others THE IMPERIAL QUARREL. Ten Dollars the Cause of the Estrangement in Germany's Court. From the New York Tribu As for her majesty’s eldest Empress Frederick of Germany ready at the present moment ceh one of the wealthiest women in & ceiving an allowance treasury as widow arnuity from the FE 000 a from fa king of Pros nglish treasury year, besides wh: the major part of the Franco-Italian Duc? erormous sum, the rh she has inherite great fort s of Galliera the exact value pt be defined, from her h a peror Frederick. At the time when the lat- ter succ i to the throne there were in e hands of Baron Kohn, the private nker of the old E ror William, no than 54,000,000) marks ($10,S00,000) in cesh, which ‘were hed to Emperor Frederick on the tand it Was to constitute a sp of f ure, controlled by. che head of Hohenzollern for the time being, v he for the benetit of ‘or Frederick m} brief reign of ningty days, scarcely any of th: money was left The major portic of it is understood to have been. invested abroad by Emperor Frederick's ord.rs in the name of his widow, her uncle, the late Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. and her cousin, King Leopold of Belgium, betng nominated as tru It may remem- bered that the late Prince Stolberg, who i last week, resigned at the time office of minister of the imperial hous: in a fit of anger, declaring that he would be no party to diverting from the German crown a sum of money accumulated by old Emperor William for the specific benefit of the family. But as there was hing legally to prevent Emperor Frederick from disposing of the mon he wished, nothing could be dene to prevent it, and in asmuch as it was invested abroad, there could be no question of its recov after his death. It is this monetary question which goes far to account for the intense animosity and the utter absence of filial consideration which young Emperor Wil- Kam manifested for some time after his Succession to the throne to his mother, the widowed Empress Frederick. ——__+e- ___ Need for Haste. From Household Words. The Doctor—“Mrs. Brown has sent for me to go and see her boy, and I must go at once.” His Wife—"What is the matter with the boy?” The Doctor—“I don't know; but Mrs. Brown has a book on ‘What to Do Before the Doctor Comes,’ and I must hu up before she does it.” a Lae e iMerary Information. From the Chicago Record I want to buy a Christmas pres¢ ofa book for a young man.” “Yes, miss, what kind of a book would you like?” “Why, a book for a young man.” “Well—but what kind of a young man?” “Oh, he's tall and has light hair, and he always wears blue neckties. An Observer. From Life. She—“If you know much about the Bible, tell me what the foolish virgins said when the approach of the bridegroom was announced. “They if straight.” so sked their hats were on oo What He Wan From Harper's Ba: Uncle Bob—“Well, Tommy, what do you want Santa Claus to bring you for (hrist- r. 've got a golf suit, but I think I should like him to bring me one of the handicaps like papa wanted in the last tournament. He said if he'd had one big enough he'd have won.” —.s———— The Coming. From Life. “Nina’s count has arrived from I hear. How did he c “C. O. D., they, sa: Europe, From Harps NEW STYLES IN BEARVILLE.