Evening Star Newspaper, January 9, 1897, Page 17

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 9, 1897-24 PAG PARIS GRAND OPERA Privileges and Penalties of a State- Owned Institution. A SORT OF CIVIL SERVICE SYSTEM Monopoly Enjoyed in the Produc- tion of Pieces. ——+ WHAT IS THE RESULT? = See Correspondence of The Evening Star. PARIS, December 20, 1896. HE GRAND OPERA of Paris an iron- clad monopoly— most peculiar fea- ture, little under- stood abroad. We ire used to hearing hat the government n France encourages the arts; but that this may be done at something of a price we do not always take into considera- tion xvod and ill which this “protec- tien” quite re French lyric stage show the workings of the sys- arkably diy the picture of a’ worthily d opera company, installed in a ullding owned by government and oned to interpret—free from mer- and fear of the public's which is perhaps its | work of natic composers fore; masterpieces after, is a ve one. And what an oppor- r struggling genius! Comparing the condition of these geniuses with that of strugglin geniu: in lands less favor- ea, em, however, that there has ‘hich, of course, is a sutlook still. From the first t has led them by the hand. that they nave reached the Not Interestea in the Stage. ional Conservatoire only municipal and bookkeepers know to what extent the ¢ funds have been already lavished on .""_scholarships, “encour- ‘True, these aided their lives thus far, in a way—must give bonds to the 2 entering the Conservatoire oned on their giving the subven- a or opera comique their serv- should either ask them. But it can y be a hardship, from the point of of a beginner, to be “tied down” to of institutions, entrance to en dearly paid for by artistes ncluding the United States. be borne cheerfully. Must Have a Pall. in the Conservatoire, the struggling has but to bring off a Prix de Rome. ld he rot do th one might feel a great temptation to ¢ lare him not a ge- and his case falls. To show such igment in an ordinary year, with would be to declare to the as." moana A Quiet Talk. 1 that you know nothing of the nis civil service, which means any &@ young man and wo- m this admirable institu- s all to influence. Yet this alent really great in » these schemers halt perfected opera joins service to do more h ost ngly great remarkable. Year in, each gaining of the prize commits the fous obligation. It ome man has the by the Grand Op- committee of the meritorious work. ange examples. pn he was ault-Ducou- Looking ts Friends. Gray won the Prix de Romo of the Conser- vatoire. Monsicur Bourgault-Ducoudray thought of this in 1891, after having led a curious, roving life for thirty years, in which a scientific study of Greek popular songs, in Greece, and a philosophical tn- quiry into Japanese aesthetics, in Japan, played no unimportant part. Having lets- ure now in his old age, he brought together —as it seemed to unscientific ears—the ex- ercises of his student days, the Japanese and Greek aesthetics and folk-songs of his wanderings, and whatever else he found about him, and called it an opera. He took it to the proper committee of the institute, who passed it, out of courtesy. In turn, he took it to the minister of fine arts, who put it upon the list of “operas to be per- formed.” He had the right. He had con- formed with all the program, as set down by law and civil service. Private Speculators in Control. Now, the Opera always has a number of these pieces marked “to be performed” up- on its sts. The Opera building is owned by the state. The singers and each em- Ploye down to the scrubbers are state func- tionaries. But, as it will be seen, the ac- tual directors of the Opera are private poh taper ayg on aot oetiee are ae up great sopranos, called chant falcon; seven light sopranos, called chan- teuses legere, and four contraltos. It may interest her countrymen to learn that Sybil Sanderson, the ravissante, is put down as a chanteuse faleon, and not as a light so- prano. They wiil thus know what the qual- ity of her voice is when they next have op- portunity to hear her. The- ballet has a special service, gentlemen and ladies of great dignity and social standing in the world of art and letters. One maitre de ballet, one dance manager, one professor of the classe de perfectionnement and six other plain professors. In the ballet corps itself there are no less than fifteen male artistes! All this great staff, with a real army of machinists, laborers, scene shifters and what not—the service being so minutely sub- divided that there are men who are merely sprinklers of the stage floor, women who are merely seamstresses—go with the build- ing, so to speak. That is, their places are held permanently, during good behavior. The government once in five years turns over all en bloc to the director. whom it has arpointed. This director is a private speculator, He is held to keep up salaries and employments, and, to put it sweeping- ly, to make no change whatever in the The Director and His Perquisites. Discipline is maintained by a system of fines. The filling of vacancies and the en- gagement of new artistes—at rare inter- vals—mvst be submitted to the minister for his approval. The director may not change the prices of admission or sub- scription. He is held to give so many mati- nees each year at a reduced price—a new socialistic idea—and two free performances, on the great holidays of New Year day and the French Independence day. Fur- thermcre he is obliged to bring out two new operas every year or pay si forfeit— speculators nevertheless, and they look on jl pagotane Gunes and onces in every: “opel rformed” with any- , Stas tains oP onthusiaem? ihe then director of] Of the Prix de Rome of the Conservatoire. the Opera, M. Ritt, was short by one of|In return he can have all the receipts of these new pieces for the year. In 18St and fe 1887 he had been in default in the same way, and paid his forfeit meney to the gevernment. Naturally he did not wish to be caught in default again. He was about quitting office; November had already ar- rived. So he bethought him of this piece of Bourgault-Ducoudray, called “‘Taamara,” and “‘Thamara™ was hastily put on. It was magnificently staged, and every care was lavished on it. Singers and mu- siclans fought against the execrable score. One leader ard two singers had themselves put on the sick ist. The light journals of the Boulevard got wind of it and jested. This was the year of Lottie Collins and “Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay!”" So there were even puns—“Tha-ma-ra-boom!’ The opera was, nevertheless, produced. The 28th of De- cember, 1891, saw its rise, its greatness and fts fall. It never has and never will see light in any other playhouse in the world. It takes an Institution like the Grand Opera of Paris, which has never heard the “Otello” of Verdi, the ‘“Mefistofele” of Boito, the fe for the Tsar’’ of Glinka in entirety, the “Demon” of Rubenstein, Goldmarck’s “Queen of Sheba” or any of the new school of Italian opera, to bring cut such inanities because they are com- pesed by Frenchmen, in accordance with rules, regulations and requirements. What the Record Shows. Recent times have seen a number of such ill-starred productions. During the twenty- one years between 1872 and 1893 only eight- een new operas were brought out at the Paris Grand Opera, and of these two were in two acts each. Eighteen new ballets were staged In the same time. Five out of - these eighteen new operas ran less than | the box office and 1s granted—on the theory ten nights each—that fs to say, they failed| that he wll need helping out—an annual completely. With 1893 and the direction of | subsidy of 800,000 francs a year. M. Bertrand, what is called by courtesy a So the life of the Paris Grand Opera Lew era of activity, began, marked most] goes on tranquilly, to the complete satis- particularly by the production, for the| faction of all its employes and artistes. first time in Paris (!) of the Wagner op-| All are well paid, all are sure of their eras “La Walkyrie” and “Tannhauser!”’ Places, leacing an existence of leigure and (the one disgraceful ‘'Tannhauser” night dignity, conditioned on a perfunctory sing- back in the sixties cannot be counted). ing, on most evenings, of such good old- In 1898 this new activity showed itself in timers as “Don Juan,” “Faust,” “Rigolet- the bringing out of Marechal’s ‘‘Deidamie,” | to” and the others which we know so well. which ren nine nights in 1898, three nights} And this, perhaps, is why nobody listens in 1894 and none in 1895 and 1896; of Cha-| to the operas, which they pay so dear to brier’s Gwendoline,” with two nights in| hear, but sit, instead, with opera glass in 1893, twelve nights in 1894 and none in 1895 | hend, surveying the great brilliant audi- and 1896; of Massanet’s “Thais” (a com- ence, eating caramels, holding receptions parative success), with twenty-seven nights | in private boxes, prosecuting flirtations in i 1894, eight nights in 1895 and none in the dark, quiet nooks of loges, which do pas despite the beauty of the new star, | so abound, and sleeping gently the diges- s me Sanderson; of Lefebvre's “Djelma,” | tive slumber of the after cinner hour. Un- witl eight lone nights in 1894; and, lastly, doubtedly Parisians have their own idea those two failures of 1896, “La Montagne | of: opera. STERLING HEILIG. Noir,” which saw a run of fourteen nights, -_—_——. and “Fredigonde,” which was put on but UNG "! four times. Verdi’s “Otello” ‘and the Wag- BIE ed eta A e ner operas were the real “new” pieces of He Bafled All Day Trying to Get the these active years. The search for genius cannot always be Boat Dry Enough to Start Out. From the Maury County, Ga., Citizen. successful, and no one should make com- Plaint because new masterpleces are ot} Congressman Charley Crisp and Solicitor hard part of it, from the cont or ice Ce General Frank Hooper decided last week aliens in the capital of light—because | to have a big fishing frolic before entering Parisians themselves learned long go {o| on their duties as congressman and solic- acquiesce in their lot as it is prepared for | stor general. them, like blameless Buddhas waiting for} - mp, t down to Capt. Seal’s fish rvana—is that while no masterpieces oy enn a A ee eeu eeane pond, near Americus, procured his fishing were produced in France, some other coun- tries were more fortunate. And these—be-| boat and were about to embark, when one of them discovered the fish tank in it, auc the tt opera direction vi concerned in sifting “ind y”. by French masters heave ane ape ces | which 1s kept supplied with fresh water and cannot be heard in Paris.’ New York, | by auger holes in the bottom of the boat. ee ae Cates San Francisco and| That fish-tank attachment was a new- Neots, been more for-| tangled thing to our young congressman Senate th itil respect than Pariat and solicitor general, and they viewed it Effects of a Monopoly. bwitin dive ateerust-ai ~ a Here the iron-clad “We'll bail the dang thing out!" exclaim- monopoly of the Paris | o4 solicitor Frank. opera shows itself, its causes and results, “That's just what we'll do,” chimed in its boasts and {ts excuses. It 1s not only | Congressman Charley. that none of these new foreign—or French jacking) buskates tney sent tonwork lca —operas had the honor to habeus best morte le termni ned Co dip the abos, the subventioned house; ee cares fore Ls Che i et LA eo have been brought out Independently of st, | C@7casses out on the water in it. either by a foreign traveling company cr Bucketful after bucketful of water was by a new French company made up for the | @ipped out and splashed back into the purpose! The Grand Opera remains today | P84, es lower and lower sank the sun in supreme in its sole right to produce works | the western sky. Still on and on dipped “entirely In music,” accor/ing to the Opera | OUF gallant fishermen. Great drops of Comique—another government concern—| briny perspiration rolled down their man- only the privilege of doing works with | 1¥ cheeks and they puffed and blowed like spoken dialogue in the place of singing | Tollicking porpoises, but they were good recitativ grit and determined not to be fooled out For example, it happens b: of their fish frolic by a small obstacle. Mozart's “Don Juan’ ie new betes anet | 'rhey were mad enough to break the third simultaneously by the Gpera and the Opera | Commandment, but being reminded that it Comique. The difference is that when the | Would make the fish not bite, they re- hero has to utter such a sentence as “I am | ‘rained and dipped on at a livelier speed? astounded. Pray, explain this mystery to The glorious orb of day sank behind the —at the Opera Comique he speaks the | Western horizon and night began to spread works, while at the Grand Opera he chants | her sable mantle over the scene, but the them. This being the ultimate—-Ithough a | Water in the tank remained exactly on a very rough—distinction between grand | level with the surface of the pond as on opera and opera comique—which is not | 29d on dipped the patient fishermen. “eomic opera”—each of the two subven.| Just as they were about to conclude that tioned houses has its <pecialty, and nowa-| the boat was hoodooed and utterly unsafe Captain Seals appeared and explained the fish tank. Then there were two very blank-looking faces, and a congressman and a solicitor general sneaked off to kick themselves. ———__-e+____ Items From Billville. From the Atlanta Constitution. There has been a great fall in cotton and snow in this vicinity. Christmas fireworks are coming in. We fear we'll have considerable hereafter. We've been postmaster here for three years, but we're going to break the record and resign—as soon as our successor is ap- pointed. Our friends who came to spend Christmas with us last June are still here; but Mc- ney hasn’t reduced the price of groceries yet. Home life in Billville is just like being in the legislature. The old lady is speaker of the house, and we have mighty hard work to get her to recognize us. ‘What hope beneath the stars and stripes? In temperance place your trust, And then behold the water pipes, Slight Refreshme: Much Interested. In Pensive Mood. days they live in peace together, as one in Go on a regular “bust!” sd resolution not to have the minister of pub- SF ee lic instruction grant rignts to any rival Desolate. company. | So its career of usefulness, so dignified | and worthy, runs on smoothly. The splen- ; did monument, that is to say, the building, is owned by the state. The state owns all {ts furniture and scenery, falling heir to every new improvement, however costly, used. set up by each individual director. All the | To kiss; such a employes, trom the star singers down to | May I not weep wi the coal shovelers and scrub girls, are civil service folk. Array of Officials. Indeed, the array of the mere “adminis- tration” is In its way as grand as the list of the ballet or the dance. There is a A Scotch Bull, director, an administrator general, a con- | From Tid-Bits. server of material, a librarian, with his An ol Scotch lawyer, writing of an es- adjoint, a keeper of the archives, a secre- | tate he had just bought, added: ‘There ts tary general, who has his own adjoint; @|a chapel upon it in which my w! fe and hief bookkeeper, a cashier, a secretary of led if c spice Soot ag sf I wish to be buri our lives are spared.’ Let me come in where you sit weeping; aye, Let me who have not auy child to die’ Weep with you for the little one whose love I have known nothing of. The lttle arms that slowly. slowly loosed Their pressure ‘round your neck; the bands you such hands, I never knew; yout Fain would I be of service, somethi1 ween the tears that would be comforting; But, abl so sadder than yourselves am I ‘Who have no child to die! —JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY. rfinae _ Better Tham Astrology. and a general | From the Chicago Record. 2 “It’s all folly to regulate your life by. the signs of the zodiac.” : “What is your plan?’ : “I alwi the wife and Pete Aad all publi! Of tenors there are nine; of baritones, SHORTHAND WRITERS An Expert Explaine Why There Are Few Competent Stenographers. SOME NECESSARY -QUALIFICATIONS Evo ngoe =i Opportunities Offered for Remuner- ative Employment. Sewers cary IN THE PUBLIC SERVICE EARLY HALF A century ago Dickens inimitably described the enormous diffi- culty he experienced in mastering the art of shorthand. But he mastered {t, all the _same, and in his early manhood was one of the best ste- nographers in Eng- land—a house of commons pot-hooker of distinction before he ..... grow a mustache. His “Copper- field” description of the trials, tribula- tions and discouragemenis of the shorthand student has stirred the risibilities of many tens of thousands of men and women who, since his day, have striven to acquire skill or perfection in the craggy science of con- tracting speech on paper. It must pro- voke the amusement of a sreat many young men and women in Washington, for the national capital is full of stenogra- phers and stenographic students. A good proportion of them are successful and have lucrative positions in the government de- partments and in business offices, but, ac- cording to the manager of an employment agency with whom a Star reporter had an interview the other Jay, there are hun- dreds of stenographers of both sexes, only moderately proficient, in Washingion who do not appear to be taxing advantage of the opportunities that are presented to them here. “I don't know of any bett country for good stenographers than Wash- ington,” said this mao. “J now there is scarcely a government department here that has not numerous vacancies for good amanuensis stenographers. The civil service commission is unable to fill these vacancies on account of the lack of competent peo- ple presenting themselves for the steno- graphic and typewriting examination. “Scores of young men and women who have only partly learned these two accom- plishments attempt to pass the examina- tion, which is certainly not a difficult one, and fail dismally. These appear nét to have thoroughly understood the maxim that if a thing is ‘worth learning xt all it is worth learning thoroughly. ‘There has been some little exaggeration as to the in- surmountable difficulty of learning short- hand. Some writers have gone so far as to declare that to obtain a complete mas- tery of stenography is td equal the diffi- culty of obtaining an_intjmate“knowledge of Greek and Latin. This ‘is abSurd. Result of Hard: Work. “The pre-eminent stendgraphers whose annual incomes run into the thousands of dollars—the court and legislative reporters and the newspaper men*who teport con- ventions and affairs of that sort—are born, not made, but’ for all that they, have been compelled to devote themselves for years to the study in order to: acquire absolute proficiency. It is not of this class of ste- nographers that I am speaking; The gov- @rnment departments here do not require stenographers who van take 230 words a minute. What they need, and' what they don’t appear to be able to get‘ just now, is the good amanuensis shorthand writer, who can take, say, from 125 to 150 words a minute, and who can’ intelligently tran- scribe his notes, chiefly correspondénce, on @ typewriter. “I hold that any young man or woman of ordinary intelligence can learn to do this, with earnest study and close applica- tion, within the period of a year—often less than that. There are only three rules to be followed by the student of stenog- raphy who is in earnest and there. The first is practice: practice; the third is practice. city-in_ this A man can’t learn to play ‘Yankee Doodle’ on the violin in less than a year, and when he dces finally learn the tune it is of no prac- tical use to him. But the young fellow who sits down with his teeth hard set with the determination to be a good amanuensis stenographer within the period of twelve calendar months, and who sticks to the determination, has the chance to make a first-rate living here in Washington. May Become Discouraged. “The trouble is that about eight out of every ten young people who start in to learn shorthand get discouraged at the outset and abandon the study. The task looks too big. If they don’t abandon it al- together, they drift along lazily, giving the study half an hour occasionally, and try to make themselves believe that they are learning it. In the course of a year these ‘students ‘become stenographers of that lamentably exasperating class who, if they are ever given a chance to exercise their ‘skill’ Jot down notes that they can’t read. The two that have stuck to it have mean- time gained proficiency and confidence, and are fit to go into any man’s office and handle his stenographic correspondence for him. If they keep at it for another year, taking dictation for a couple of hours a day, they are able to resign their amanu- ensis positions and apply themselves to money-getting as court or legislative re- Porters. “The young man or woman who wishes to become fitted for obtaining a paying po- sition as a stenographer must study for from three to five or even six hours a day, according to their respective capaci- ties for absorbing the intricate problems presented by the art. This thing of ‘learn- ing shorthand while you wait’ is the purest baiderdash. Any to be able to drill stenography into a stu- dent thoroughly in three months, as a good meny of them do, is a fakir to be avoided. It can’t be done. None of the stonographic teachers in Washington make any such claim, but in some of the other cities the advertisement to this effect is common. Must Be Well Informed. “A good general education is absolutely essential as a basis even for a moderately good amanuensis stenographer. There are any number of bright, quick-witted stenog- raphers, whose sharpness.of mentality has enabled them to pick upi‘the art of note- taking with surprising rapidity, who can’t spell or punctuate. What: good are they? Of what use to the governmental chief of division or the busine: man is a note book full of stenographtc rétes, if the stenographer can’t transcribescthem intel- Ugently, without innumerable:blunders in orthography and punctuation? .Good spell- ing is particularly esseptial.,,The rendi- tion of a phonetic langus into properly. spelt English is not so ‘dasy ‘as it might appear. : fo oD “The stenographer whois employed in an office where technical wonds pertaining to the arts and sciences nre;én common usage soon finds this out. It:s inv the proper. transcription of notes that so Many of the shorthand writers wo r them is not rapid. It rarely gots words a minute. But it is a dictation the transcription of which requires a thorough knowledge of spelling and punctuation, to say nothing of a knowledge of proper busi- ness form, and rit ‘teacher’ who professes, PLEO TIPLE Bet 7] 9 4] GOS GOST SOOO SS SSS SSS OS OSHS SSOSOSSSSO0SGOCEO Seeesgeeeseosos of the nation’s capital. Thousands of every-day facts and figures, political statistics, &c., &c., &c., all for= - == « 17 SOSSTOSCOSRSSSO SELES E SESCNTEEITT A Complete Reference Library. THE EVENING STAR ALMANAG & ENCYCLOPAEDIA! When some puzzling question confronts you, turn to the Evening Star Almanac and Encyclopzedia and you will find its answer without any trouble. of every interesting subject of the day, briefly and con- cisely. very page fairly teems with useful information of value to every one. The thoroughness with which Iccal matters have been covered makes it of especial value to every citizen It gives a complete history of the District government, its officials, sources of revenue, population, area, debt, etc. etc. besides countless other facts. Carefully revised up to date. book of reference yet published! national and The most complete Dy” For sale by all newsdealers and at The Evening Star Offices SSSSE SSEOSSO SSO @ $OoSESS STO GS GSGOSE0 it fully treats learn shorthand and typewriting, get «m- ployment in offices, and proceed to drive their employers mad either by being unable to read their notes or to put them jnio proper shape. Lacking im Skill. “A gentleman to whom I sent a young woman stenographer the other day came tearing in here the day after, and began to abuse me up hill and down dale. I didn’t greatly blame him. It seems that he spent the whole day dictating an accumulated mass of correspondence ro the young wo- man, and then found out that she couldn’t read a word of her notes. His time was money to him, and he was mad. This does not often happen, however, for in most cases we try the skill cf applicants who seek positions through this office, but, for some reason or other, in ‘his particular case the trial was neglected. “The stenographers anf typewriters who half learn their business injure the trade greatly by cheapening it. They are em- ployed for $5 or $6 a week, and contrive to do their work in some way, invariably bad: The work that some of them do is both heartrending and humorous. Private employers, however, are beginning to recog- nize the bad policy of giving employment to these incompetents. They not only cause neuraesthenia and premature age, but they produce what is known as the ‘laugh’ on the employers. The only thing for the half- learners to do is to sit down and begin all over again. It seems to me that it is fool- ish in them to waste their time for small salaries when a comparatively short period of dead earnest study would put them in the way of making a great ceal more money. Some Department Salaries. “Good amanuensis stenographers in the departments here are paid ali the way from $1,200 to $1,800 a year. Those not so good get from $720 to $1,000. The good de- partmental stenographer is given a better show than any other class of government clerk to try his spurs and to make a hit, and he is always in demand. When it be- comes known to the big officials in a de- partment that some new stenographer, recently appointed, is a ‘tip-top’ man in his business, they are all clamorous to get him in their respective divisions. If they can’t secure him outright they borrow him on especial occasions, and he puts in some of his days all over the building. The stenog- rapher who starts to work in some ob- soure division of a department is soon dus out of his obscurity if he shows good met- tle, and it is not long before his legs are urder a desk in the room of an assistant secretary or even of a Secretary, and such stenographers belong to the $1,600 and $1,800 classes. : ‘The good amanuensis shorthand writers employed in the offices of lawyers ani other professional and business men in Washington are paid from $20 to $# a week. I know a boy who passed the door of my house all of last year in a High School uniform who is now drawing $40 a week as a stenographer in a patent attor- ney’s office, although I can’t get out of the habit of calling him ‘Bub.’ He studied shorthand systematically after school hours, so that when he left school he didn’t have to take his place in the $6-a-week class, but jumped right to the front from the start. “Typewriting is, of course, nowadays an absolutely essential adjunct of stenography, and there is nothing in typewriting to scare anybody, but all the same there are a lot of atrociously bad typewriters running around looking for positions. A good many of them come here. I put them at a ma- chine, and they spell ‘remember’ with four ‘m's.’ I can’t -very well send,them to a man who wants a good machine operator. “If they know how to spell,they have never heard of a comma ora paragraph. If they know how to spell and to punctuate, some of them pick out a key once a minute, and¢ if anybody here is looking at them, get rat- tled, go all to pieces, and that is the finish. There is no necessity for this kind of thing. Any man or woman who has ten fingers and who .shas had a first-rate common school education can become a ‘first-rate typewriter operator, able to take dictation at the rate of fifty words a minute, within two months, if he or she practices the ma- chine consistently. But typewriting is an- other thing that can’t be learned ‘while you wait!” ———_o—_— Fate. “What was the matter in the bric-a-brio department?” “Two clerks disagreed about the pro- and one of them hit head with @ Venus.” A COUSIN OF MACEO. Pittsburg’s Citizen Who Claims Kin- ship With the Insurgent. From the Pittsburg Chrvaicl2-Tclegraph. Pittsburg numbers among her citizens a veritable relative of the Cuban general, Maceo. He was discovered yesterday, and his name is John Harris. He lives in a sec- tion of the old A. M. E. Church in an alley a short distance from Arthur street, and hails from Jamaica, having landed in this country eighteen years ago. Mr. Harris is now an American citizen, and so proud of his citizenship that he does not propose to take any chances of losi1g it by losing his life in an effort to save Cuba. He is satisfied with life on the hill, and will continue to disperse midnight lunches un- less he experiences some great change of heart and mind. He is firm in his convic- tion that Maceo is not dead. This amounts to a certainty in his mind, but when press- ed yesterday to give the ground for his be- Nef, he said he had adopted the policy of silence, as he had noticed that Grover Cleveland and other great men were work- ing successfully on that line. The father of Mr. Harris and the father of Gen. Maceo were cousins and were bern in Martinique, Harris says. He evidently has kept a keen eye upon the proceedings of Maceo, and understands his character pretty weil. He believes he has for many years had the liberation of the Cubans at heart, and has been planning to that end. Maceo served in the ten-years’ war, and then came to America, where he remained for two years. Nearly all this (ime he was ostensibly a hostler at West Point, but was, in reality, picking up some valuable points on the art of war with a view to their fu- ture use. Mr. Harris thinks he is using them now with excellent effect. He repre- sents the old general as brave and crafty. One great element of his success, he thinks, is his ability to play a game of bluff. Natur- ally courageous and with a keen apprecia- tion of what bluff will do, he will not hesi- tate to take ten men and act tn the face of the enemy as if he had a thousand. The very boldness of his maneuvers deceives the opposing general, and if anything should occur not down on Maceo’s program, the mountains of Cuba, among which he knows every inch of the ground, afford a safe retreat. His relative has taith in him as a general, and believes he will come cut all right yet. The fact that he is a colored man does not count against him. It would, in this country, Harris said, but uot in Cuba, Harris says there are a good many Pitts- burg people in the Cuban army just now. They are all white men, as the colored peo- ple are not anxious to take a hand in the unpleasantness. Those who have gone slipped away quietly and have not been missed or are supposed to be in another part of the United States. He thinks a great many more will go before long. Most of them have assurances that in the com- ing republic of Cuba there will be some pickings for them which will make up for the lack of immediate pay. Then many of them are of the class who wouid rather fight than eat, and they go for the love of adventure. That there will be any failure in the attempt of Cuba to throw off th of Spain Mr. Harris does not doubt moment, and he believes that in spi correspondents who have killed Mac will turn up at the right time and reward his bravery and sacrifice — BET A SKELETON AT POKER. Queer Stakes Wagered in a ¢ tween Medical Studen: From the Buffalo Express. The Sporty Doctor told the story, and the Sporty Doctor can tell stories, if anybody should hapjen to ask you. He was sitting in his private office waiting for his trap, and the conversation shifted around to poker games, chiefly because the bookcase in the office was decorated with a box of chips and several packs of cards. “The quecrest game of poker I ever saw,” said the Sporty Doctor, ‘was one I played in when I was a medical student. One night four of us were in the dissecting room. We had finished experimenting with the cadavers we had on hand and were waiting for dinner. One of the boys sug- gested that we play poker. We played it. “It wasn't long before some of the boys were out of money. The game was a stiff one, and the unlucky ones began putting up personal property. They let their watches and knives go, and finally got down to their dissecting instruments and specimens. One of the boys in particular was in hard luck. Hé got hands, but had ther: topped with a regularity that made In half an hour he had him sick at heart. “Pretty soon he got a big full—it was thres aces and a pair of queens, if I re- member correctly. It was betting against him, and I had four trey bet #2 and he saw me with a scalpel and went me two better with a beautifully pickled specimen of a forearm. I raised him right back, then he was in a quandary. He skinned his cards over, went through all his pock- ets, asked imploringly if 1 would take an I. O. U., which I wouldn't, 27d then sat and thought for awhile. “Suddenly he remembered something for he told me to wait a minute and ran out of the room. He came back with a skeleton, which it had taken him six months to articulate, and threw it on the table. ‘I raise you 200 cold bones,’ he said calmly. The Sporty Doctor stopped. Then the Man Who Never Studied Anatomy said: “Well?” “Well?” the Sporty Doctor queried back at him. “What happened?” h, the skeleton was shy three ribs, to say nothing of a lot of false teeth, and the bet didn’t go at its face value.” —_—__ e+ —___. His Chance. From the Indianapolis Journal. Timmins—“I have a notion to write one of these Scotch dialect stories.” Simmons—“But you don’t know anythirg about Scotch dialect.” Timmins—“I know as much about it as the people who buy the stories.” = —— | a Fiances—"Are you sure, dearest, that 1 w-lt wot be s burden t yout®