Evening Star Newspaper, January 30, 1897, Page 23

THE NIGHT SCHOOLS ‘Rise Who § Seek Knowledge in All Seriousness, MANY WHO TOIL DURING THE DAY The Russian, the Frenchman, the German and the Heathen Chinee. AND INCIDENTS ——-_>—_——_ T SCEN HERE IS SOME- thing both odd and pathetic in the spec- tacle of middle-aged, even old, men and women, white and colored, bending over school desks, labori- ously conning paper- bound primers, like little children. This is something that may be seen on —— three nights of the week at nearly all ¢f the District's night schools. Every one of these schools has a large proportion of adults among its classes. The colored night schools especially are largely attend- ed by men and women who in their early youth were either unable to percelve the desirability of at least a rudimentary edu- cation or whose circumstances were such that they had neither time nor opportunity to improve their minds. Ambitious bar- , imbued with the hope of being able at some future time to throw away their hotel and restaurant waiters, only a knowledge of how to prop- y make out checks for patrons; coach- men and footmen, all manner of servants in Washington’s elaborate establishments, voring to fit themselves for better Learns Readily. positions; quite old women, striving only to master the mystery of printed speech, in order that they may be able to gratify ambitions to read their Bibles ves; drivers of delivery wagons, struggling to learn to read mere addresses seribbled on slips of paper—these are some of the classes of men and women who spend three of their evenings each week at the colored night schools, of which there are elght within the District. From Other Lands. Similar classes ef white men and women attend the white night schools, but these are great part foreigners, many of whom have had excellent educations in their own languages. but who find them- selves handicapped in this country, owing to thetr lack of English, spoken and writ- ten. In mathematics, for instance, many of these men from across the sea can learn nothing even at the night high school, where the teaching of higher mat! ics is a specialty. Their early training in these branches has been thor- ough. None the less, at the night school th have to begin at their A, B, C's. here used to be an impression in most of the cities of this country that for a grown min or woman there was something humiliating, shameful in attendance at a public night school. It was deemed an acknowledgment of ignorance which few adults cared to make, and for a good many years after the general establishment of night schools they were but scantily at- tended by persons who had attained their majorities A v to Washington's night high ‘hool, In the old District building, serves to illustrate how completely the former manner of regarding these institu- tions by grown persons has passed away. A great number of the pupils at the night school are well groomed young men, clerks and salesmen in business offices and stores who draw gqod salaries for their work during the hours of the day, and who are eagerly availing themselves of the oppor- tunity either to brush up in branches which they have forgotten since their school days, or who are acquiring specialties, such as stenography and typewriting, for their future advancement. Department Clerks. Among these night school pupils there 1s a considerable number of departmental clerks whose Incomes are much larger than those of the teachers who instruct them. A great many young druggists’ clerks at- tend the night high school for the pur- pose of acquiring a sufficient proficiency in Latin to give them exactness and con- fidence in the filling of prescriptions. Then among the students at the night high school there is a goodly sprinkling of bright, reat-appearing young women who become flushed and inky in their efforts to unravel the mysteriez of stenographie pot- Se That He Can Read Hi« Bible. hooks, or who wrestle valiantly with the com ns of advanced bookkeeping, for tre sake of getting on in the world of busiress. A canvass of the stores and business ofhces of Washington would un- questionably discover many graduates, both men and women, of the night high school, and in ths night schools of the District many civil service candidates have been fitted to pass their examinations. Superintendent of Schools Powell, In con- versaticn with a Star reporter, divided the attendants at the istrict night schools into trree classes—fidst, the quite ignorant boys and girls and men and women, who labor during the day, and who are only seeking education of a rudimentary char- acter; second, those who were compelled to leave school at a very early age, before they had advanced sufficiently far in their studies to fit them for any sort of employ- ment other than that performed with their ands, or those who are endeavoring to supply their deficiency in the knowledge of English, and third, the young men and women who had fairly good school eduea- tions, but who attend the night schools, and especially the night high school, in or- der to acquire and perfect themselves in certain branches. Traits of Night Teachers. Besides the night high school there are six schools in Washington that have well- attended night classes of white persons. THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 30, 1897-24 PAGES. 23 The women teachers who instruct these night classes are the pick of the day teach- ers, selected for especial tact, ‘adaptability and patience. Night school teachers are in need of these three attributes in a large measure, especially the teachers of the elementary classes—not that the night school pupils are ever mischievous or mu- tinous, for they are exceedingly amenable to discipline, but because many of them find it very hard to pick up knowledge late in life, and yet are exceedingly sensitive because of thelr combined deficiencies an A Difficult Lesson. inaptitude. Such puptls, especially those who have progressed to middle life, re- quire very careful handling, in order that their sensitiveness In the matter of their lack of education may not be touched. The younger pupils do not feel their backward- ness so much, yet the teachers are careful to refraia from criticism if they are slow t» learn. - The zeal anc attention which these night school pupils devete to their school-room work during the two hours from 7 to ¥ o'clock in the evening, when the classes meet on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fri- days, could not possibly be emulated by the lively and less mature children who attend the day schools. To The Star reporter,who visited the night class at one of these schools a few evenings ago the profound interest of the pupils in their studies, and their apparently eager desire to learn quickly and thoroughly, was a revelation. No Time for Play. Night school students don’t have any time to throw spit balls or to dally with pea sheoters, even if they were so inclined, for it is straight business and no play from beginning to end. If the pupils at these white night schools were not so absorbed in their studies they would probably find a ood deal of interest in inspections of each other. It was a curious thing to see a stolid-faced Chinaman, who had appeared promptly on time with his paper primer stuck in his wide sleeve, sitting. at a desk beside a young German man, with a florid face and blond pompadour halr, who had been a non-commissioned officer in the Ger- man army and knew Goethe, Schiller and Heine by heart, but who, for all that, was sorbed in the same English primer that the celestial was stolidly conning. Curious- ly enough, as the teacher told the reporter, the Chinaman was learning English a good deal more rapidly than the young German. In the same class was a young Frenchman, employed as correspondence clerk in a lecal wine house, who knows the language and literature of his own country thor- oughly, picking out words from the same first reader that was being diligently perused by a young Japanese lad, who works during the day in a Japanese import- ing house. One of the teachers was devot- ing particular attention to a Russian of middle age, an ex-librarian of a Moscow institution of learning, who knows all of the languages of continental Europe thor- cughly, and who js just now having the greatest difficulty ‘of his life in trying to gain a knowledge of English. Some Puzsling Words. There were three good-looking young French wcmen who were brought to this city to act as maids for well-known soclety ladies, and these seemed to be getting along splendidly with their English. They were puzzled, however, by such words as “laugh,” and “enough,” and “through,” and “know,” and “knot,” and commented humorously to the teacher in their own language on the odd formations and the Many superfluous letters in English words. One of the teachers said that the foreign young women pick up English much more rapidly than the men from other lands, but that they do not learn the larguage so sys- tematically and never quite master the En- glish grammar. The pupils all pay par- Ucular attention to the short lecture which the male principal of each of the night schools gives at each session on United States history, physics or some other branch simply treated. Learning English at one of the schools is an expert German stenographer, who makes it a practice to phonetically jot down, verbatim, the prin- cipai’s lecture, and who then, with the aid of a dictionary, endeavors to transcribe it into English. His teacher says that the resuits of his efforts in this line are weird in the extreme. It would seem to be an herculean task to take colored men who have seen as many as fifty summers and teach them how to read and write the English language with a measurable degree of correctness, when at the beginning of their instruction they have not the slightest idea of the relative meaning of the letters A. B and C.° Yet this is being done in many cases every year, and the teachers say that the task is not so hard, after all. The night class at the Sumner School, at 17th and M streets, is the largest of the colored night ciasses, and here the adult attendants are in the majority. Leara With Difficulty. The pupils go about their studies with a good deal of solemnity, and ask the teach- ers a good many questions, especially the younger colored women, who appear to Jearn with great difficulty. The studenis in the colored night schools are a trifle less quiet during school hours than those who attend the white night schools, a fact due in some measure to the satisfaction and enjoyment which the colored pupils can’t help bui exhibit when they have success- fully mastered such a difficulty as spelling cat, or properly adding up 9 and & young colored women who teach these night classes do their work admirably, and exhibit a degree of good-natured patience that is astonishing. “Whaffor is ‘eat’ done spelt with a inquired a young colored woman of her he hearing of The Star man. ain’ it? A, B, C—see—see—I ‘k’ in ‘c.’ K-a-t—ain’ that * It required quite a iitile patience for the teacher to con- the young serving woman that the letter ‘c’ has various sounds. When the pupil finally saw through the problem, she was very happy over it, and smiled with broad_blandness. During the past two or three years a great many young white men and women have availed themselves of the chance to learn shorthand and typewriting without expense at the night high school. The stenographic and typewriting room is the and necessarily the noistest, room ool, for the clicking of thirty-five typewriting machines, each being indus- triousily hammered by the transcribers. of shorthand notes, produces a sound like that of an immense telegraph receiving. room. The class in drawing is composed largely of young women, who are endeavoring to qualify themselves for admission to the regular art schools. ———————— Municipal Gas Plant. From the New York Evening Post. Wheeling, W. Va., is another small city which claims to have solved the cheaper- gas problem through municipal ownership. It is a city of 45,000 inhabitants, not large enough, it may be said, to have invited cor- ruption in the conduct of Its public busi- ness. Up to 1871 the people of Wheeling paid a private concern $3.50 per thousand fer inferior gas. Then the city bought the gas plant for $70,000, and reduced the price to $3. A few years later the price was suo- cessively lowered to $2 and to $1.50, and in 1883 it was made $1, with 25 per cent dis- count for prompt payment, practically 7 cents. There is duction. The gas is reported best quality, and the plant has built and poy ey with the profits. and this plant ts bel: the municipal gas. are said restrictions ‘and descent. THE DUKE OF TETUAN A Spanish Minister Who is of Irish Descent. CLAIMS 10 BE LORD OF DONEGAL Many Sons of Erin Have Settled Spain. es HOW IT CAME TO PASS —_—_-+—___ Written for The Evening Star. Few persons know that the sternest en- emy of American interference in Spanish colonial affairs—the man who dictates to Minister Depuy de Lome at Washington his bitterly anti-Cuban policy—in short, the Present powerful holder of the Spanish portfolio of foreign affairs, is an Irish chieftain in his own right, and the owner of @ rame famous in the history of Ireland. Such is, however, the case. His grace, the Duke of Tetuan, Spanish minister of for- eign affairs in the Canovas ministry, claims to be Lord of Donegal in Ireland, and re- Joices in the very Milesian patronymic of —Charles O'Donnell. Senor Alejandro Ribera, licentiate of the University of Salamanca, and now a resi- dent of New York city, claims kinship with the Hiberno-Spanish grandee. Indeed, Senor Ribera accompanied the duke to Vienna in a secretarial position during the year 1877. Speaking of his former chief, he says: ‘“‘The Duke of Tetuan was born in 1834, and is, therefore, sixty-three years of age. In ap- pearance he is the typical Castillian noble- men, of stately presence, fine face and dig- nified manners. Age has somewhat robbed him of his once soldierly port, and his hair and mustache are almost white. But his eyes are as bright as they were twenty years ago in Vienna, when he laid the founda- tions of the present Queen of Spain's sov- ereignty. The duke is very proud of his name. and Irish descent, but apart from this the distinguished services which his ancestors have rendered to Spain since their exile from the mother country might well give him cause for gratification.” Don Felipe Castro, the Spanish vice con- sul in New York, sald, in the absence of Consul General Baldasaro, that the present incumbent of the foreign office at Madrid is one of the most popular persons who have ever held that high place, especially so among the members of the consular service, whose chief he is. “I have met the Duke of Tetuan,” said Don Felipe, “on several occasions. He is a dignified gentleman, but his dignity is no mere mask for lack of brains. Believe me, he is a keen and able statesman. Most of fhe foreign negotiations—the loans and other affairs, for which entire credit has been given to Senor Canovas, are actually due to the mind of the Duke of Tetuan. I have heard him speak of his Irish name It was at a distribution of prizes among the royal military cadets, and it happened that there were two O'Neills, an O’Conor and an O’Maher among the recipients. Tetuan on the Irish. “The duke made mention of the fact, and discussed the coming of his sires, with those of the cadets, from distant Ireland. ‘We Irish,’ he said, ‘in settling on the Spanish plains and offering our swords to Spain, merely returned to our ancestors’ ancient home. The Milesians went from Spain to Ireland. We have merely come back to live among our cousins.’ ”” Don Felipe, speaking of the friéndship which long existed between Marshal Mac- Mahon, president of the French republic, and his chief, said: “It had its origin in a correspondence over the two distinguished men’s Irish ancestry. MacMahon, like Q‘Donnell, claimed to be the head or heir of his clan in Ireland. Their intimacy was only interrupted by the death of the sturdy old ex-president, and the Duke of Tetuan posted all the way from Madrid to be in time for his friend’s funeral.” Spain and its erstwhile colonies possess many distinguished families of Irish name and blood, not the least notable of which is that of O'Donnell, O'’Reillys, O'Neills, O’Donajus, Lynches, O’Mahers, Fitzger- alds, Purcells, O’Higginses and a legion of others figure in the Hiberno-Spanish or His- pano-Irish annals. After the fall of Lime- rick in 1691 hundreds of the exiled Irish, of good birth, took refuge in the armies of Europe, which gladly welcomed these ex- perienced soldiers and well-born gentlemen. ‘Throughout the term of penal laws, which ensued, no professed Roman Catholic could enter the British army or navy, or hold any civil position of consequence. As a re- sult the Milesian Irish sent their younger sons over seas, to earn abroad the titles and honors which were denied them at home. France, Spain and Austria had all their Irish brigades, and Irish generals were to be found in every European service, save perhaps that of Sweden. Among the exiles were two younger sons of the par- ticular branch of the O'Donnell family to which the Duke of Tetuan belongs. In the reign of James I, Niall Garv O'Donnell was Prince of Tyrconnell, lord of the mountainous country of Donegal, and chief of his name and race. He warred valiantly against the English, but was at length taken prisoner, and died in the tower of London. From the brother of this chief, Charles Oge O'Donnell, descended the two young exiles referred to. They were Henry and Joseph O'Donnell, younger brothers of Manus O'Donnell of Wilford Lodge in the County Mayo. Tetuan’s Exiled Progenitor. Henry entered the Austrian service and rose to be a baron and a major general. Joseph settled in Spain about 1750, and be- came a Heutenant general. There was no need to ennoble him, as in Spain all the Irish exiles were recognized as nobles ready made. This lieutenant general, Don Joseph, left four sons, all distinguished in the army of their adopted country. The eldest, Don Jose O'Donnell, was captain general of Castille, and the youngest—Don Enrique—was the famous lieutenant gen- eral, O'Donnell, Count of Abisbad,regent of Spain in 1812 and captain general of Anda- lusia. The second of the four, Don Carlos, also a Heutenant general, and a knight of St. Ferdinand, died in 1880, leaving two children, of whom the eldest (Don Carlos O'Donnell), was father of the present Duke of Tetuan; while the second was the re- nowned Field Marshal Don ,Leopoldo O’Don- nell, first duke of that name. ‘The field marshal duke dfed in 1867, hav- ing attained the loftiest honors and digni- ties before his fiftieth year—the year of his premature demise. All his titles and es- tates passed to his nephew, Don Carlos, new Duke of Tetuan, Marquis O'Donnell, and Count of Lucena. ~The second duke was born “with a silver spoon in his mouth,” as the old saw has it. The son of Gen. Don Carlos O'Donnell, who fell gallantly on the side of the pretender Don Carlos in 1835, and the nephew and heir of the powerful field marshal and prime minister, he the affections of both Carlist and royalist parties. Born in 1834, he was educated at the queen mother’s expense, and became a page in her household. He entered the diplomatic service, and in 1867, on his uncle’s death, succeeded to the title and the immense for- tune left by that dignitary. In 1875-76 he was sent to Vienna as Spanish ambassador extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary, and while in Austria intrigued successfully to bring about an attachment between the young King Alfoneo XIIJ_and the Grand Duchess Christine, now Queen of Spain. When that monarch made Christina his second wife, the Duke of Tetuan’s position In Canovas’ first es eway or retires. * ‘The Duke of Tetuan married in 1868, and has three sone—Don Juan Patricio O'Don- Alfonso honors. If I am proud of being a Spaniard by birth, I-am quite 4$)proud of being an Irishman by descent,and I sign myself ‘Carlos O'Donnett of @%rconnell’ with as much heartfelt exaltation as I do “‘Tetu- an iiss The duke is an Héforary member of the learned Irish bod¥.to which he wrote this letter.” It is seid of him, in circles diplomatic, that for years he constantly refused the ambassadozship to England be- cause of the wrongs "Which, he declared, had been inflicted wu his ancestors by England and. her sovereigns. Such is the Spanish yminister of foreign affairs, the chief coun&élor of Premier Ca- rovas, the remarkable ¥¥It—Charles O"Don- nell, Duke of Tetuan.{.> AN EPISODE: IN PARIS ————s<=1—_ From the Woman at Home. We had both looked forward to our visit to Paris with great pleasure. Neither John, my husband, nor I had ever been in France before, and we had decided long ago that as soon as we cout afford the expense and spare-the time we would cross the channel and spend a month—a whole month—in Paris. Both of us are very fond of pic- tures, and I think that what we principally wanted to go to Paris for was to visit the galleries at the Louvre and the Luxem- burg. Could anybody visit a foreign city with a more innocent purpose? And when I add that we are a most respectable couple —my husband being a curate in a London parish—may I not alsé ask if ever people set out on a summer holiday with less like- lihood of being interfered with by the po- lice? When I think the matter over now, I feel very indignant. John, kind old soul, only laughs. We are not rich, and so on arriving in Paris we went to a boarding house instead of a hotel. We had seen Mme. Montbar- bon’s advertisement of her pension de famille in a London paper, and had ar- ranged, by correspondence, to be taken in at an inclusive charge of eight francs a day each. Mme. Montbarbon’s pension was in a side street off the Boulevard Haussman, very centrally situated, near the opera, and within easy walking distance of the Louvre. It was mainly frequented by Americans, and this was another recom- mendation to us, because neither John nor myself speak French, and it was much pleasanter to be able to join in the con- versation at meals. Although Mme. Montbarbon certainly did not treat us well when we got into trouble under the circumstances which I am about to describe, I must say we had no reason to complain of her pension. We had a com- fortable room; the food was excellent and plentiful, and for the first day or two, at least, our fellow boarders were civil and oo Alas! it was only for one or two lays. I noticed that something was wrong the very moment I entered the room for din- ner on the third night. Instead of being pleasantly greeted by the company, as usual, I was stared at in a very marked manner. At first I thought that perhaps my hair was untidy, and I whispered a question on the subject to my neighbor at table, Mrs. Martin K. Budd of Chicago. “There is nothing wrong with your hair, ma’am,” she answered, laying considerable emphasis on the word “hair.” I was wondering what-was the meaning of her tone, when her husband, who sat opposite to me at table, tooked up, and, glaring across at -John, remarked: “Say, Mr. Wilson, Mrs. Martin K. Budd and myself, we have decided not to accom- pany you to Versailles tomorrow.” “Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” said my husband. “We had been looking forward to making that excurslop; with you.” Mr. Budd made no answer, but shook his head and went on with dinner. It was a most uncordfortable meal. No- body spoke either to John'or to me; and if I addressed any one“E was so curtly an- swered that I felt. gnuffbed each ‘time. Genial Httle Mme. Montbgrbon even looked at me in a reproachful, way, ~ And. the worst of ft was that John seemed to notice nothing. he old Qéar#is rather short- sighted, ‘and has a theory about its being unhealthy to talk at, Js. He quite laughed at me when,,after dinner, in the drawing room, I complained ef the way we had been treated.” “What a sensitive little‘woman it is,” he said. es 2 iD However, even: he’ saw that something was wrong when not one of our fellow- boarders joined us’ in the drawing room. The custom of the house ‘was'for all the pensionnaires'to adjourn thither directly after dinner and to spend the eyening in conversation, bezique. ar, lotto. As the clock struck 9:20 and we still: fs selves alone Ivremarked to John: very much 4s if we had been sent to Cov- entry.” : “How you do rush to conclusions,, Mary dear,” answered my husband, who was puzzling his dear old head over a copy of “La Vie Parisienne.” “No doubt most of the boarders have gone out. Was there not some talk of a drive round Paris—Paris by gaslight, you know—in one of those char-a-bancs? Why should they send us to Coventry?” and he proceeded to point out the disadvantage of possessing too much self-consciousness. While he was speaking his words received apparent con- firmation by the fact that suddenly three of the ladies, escorted by Mr. Budd, en- tered the drawing room. They were not cordial, to be sure, and refused to play a game of lotto, which was proposed by my hisband. However, they were more talk- ative than they had been at dinner, and from their questions seemed to take a great interest in all concerning us. Meanwhile Mr. Budd was behaving in a very curious manner. He had some newspaper in his hand, and he kept looking from the shect, first at my husband and then at myself, and back again at his paper. I noticed that as he did so his face ‘grew more and more gloomy. Indeed, the glances he cast at us were almast offensive. I know that I felt inclined to ask him what he meant by such conduct, but as John, being short- sighted, had noticed nothing I thought it more prudent to keep silent, for if there is one thing more than another which my husband abhors it is the least unpleasant- ness. Surely I was sorely tried. After a while Mr. Budd beckoned to his wife, and when she had seated herself at his side on the sofa he whispered in her ear and pointed to the paper, which he was still holding up. Then the lady began to look from it to us and back again. When she had done this for some tir e she leaned over and whispered to her husband. Presently the two rose and left the room, without wish- ing us good-night. ‘There can be ro doubt about it,” I heard Mr. Budd say in the pasage, and to this’his wife «nswered, “Not a particle.” Poor John was blissfully unconscious of all this, and, with his face beaming with good nature, was describing the treasures of the Louvre. to the two ladies. These, I could notice, were paying but indifferent attention to his remarks. Indeed, frem the frequent nervous glances which they cast in the direction of the door, I could see that their main preoccupation was how to follow the Budds as expeditiously as possible. At last canoer -pnd,, addressing her companion, said; ‘st . “Don't you find this.coom very chilly, So- phia? I declare I shai get a cold if I stay here any longer.”’ Jie. these words she hurried to the Her companion followed her in a negvous tremor. Before leaving the room, ho’ re they both wish- ed us a quavering ight. I could not help laughing at their,funpy./behavior. “What are you lai ‘at, Mary?” ask- ed my husband. wt “Well, it was funny to,talk of catching cold in a room as hot this,” I said. John was just going ta spéak, when the door was opened ‘M. Montbarbon, the master of the house looked in and called out: at a * “Ts Mr. Sullivan thére?'™ 2 1 turned round, for f wd sitting with my back to the door, him glaring at my husband, who, hawever, had not looked Oo? up. : “No,” I said, “we, ‘alone here. Mr. Budd was in here a patie ago.” “Qh, pardon,” said "M. Montbarbon, en- tering the room. “It is Monsieur Wilson. I thought Mr. Sullivanvwas here," he add- the word Sullivan, -and ous look at my hus- way, Monsieyr . Wilson, ht I have a word with you?” E we had no money. Perhaps he had heard that curates are not usually very, very rich. He hesitated a moment before picking up the money, but he took it’s the rule of the house, though it is rath- er unusual.. What is the amount? One hundred and twenty francs? Well, here is the money, Monsieur Montbarbon.” And he added, smilingly, “‘As you say in France, Sam man who pays his debts enriches him- The boarding house keeper looked rather confused. I believe the insolent fellow thought it at last, and, laying down the receipted bill, bowed himself out of the room. “I suppose these people have to be very careful,” said John, after he had gone, “and cannot trust any strangers.” I said nothing, for I was afraid of saying too much. , The next morning, after breakfast,which, ‘as usual, we had in our room, we set out for a long day at the Luxemburg. As we left the pension I noticed a-man in work- ingman’s clothes—a cap, a blue blouse, and corduroys—who was loitering about out- side. I saw him again as we were waiting for tke Batignolles-Odeon omnibus on the Boulevard des Italiens. He was lighting a clay pipe at the gas jet outside the little tobacco shop which adjoins the omnibus station. ‘The day was rather showery, so we de- cided to ride inside the omnibus, and as we were taking our seats I saw the nether ex- tremities of a pair of corduroys vanishing up the spiral staircase which leads to the imperiale or knifeboard of the omnibus. However, corduroys are so common in Paris that I paid no heed to this; besides, my attention was soon entirely taken up with the busy scene through which we lumbered. Here was the Rue de Richelie and there cn the left was the splendid N: tional Library. In the square opposite it, on the right, so John told me, Louvel, the murderer of the Duc de Berry, was execut- ed. Then came Moliere’s statue, and pres- ently the theater known as the House of Moliere. Now we passed through the Place du Carrousel, and John pointed out where the Tuileries had stood, and told me many things about Gambetta, whose statue I no- ticed on the left. Then came the Seine, the quays, the Rue des Saints-Peres. Soon the Cdeon was reached, where we alighted, making our way on foot to the neighboring Luxemburg Gallery. We spent two delight- ful hours there, and both John and I par- ticularly admired Whistler's portrait of his mother and Friand’s “Leaving Church.” At noon we were both hungry, and so we decided to go out and get some lunch at the nearest Bouillon-Duvan before continuing cur inspection. We found a_ restaurant without much difficulty, and ordered a sim- ple lunch. Simple as it was, I should have erjoyed it very much but for the fact that scmebody who was sitting just behind me was eating something dreadfully seasoned with garlic. This became so unpleasant that at last I looked around, and, to my surprise, saw that the man who was sitting behind me was the workman whom I had already twice noticed that morning. He paid no attention to me, and went on eat- ing heartily. As soon as we got outside I said, “John, we are being followed,” and told him what I had seen. He laughed heartily. is!” he cried. “Goose or no goose,” I said, “if you will look back I will wager you will see a short nan in a blouse and corduroys behind us. He has got a black beard and rather a red- dish nose, and smokes a nasty clay pipe.” John looked back. “There is certainly a man of that description some way behind us; and now that I look at him I remember having noticed him in the gallery. But what of that? No doubt he has crossed the river for identically the same purpose as ourselves. In France workmen often take a very keen interest in art, and mary visit the museums whenever they can get a holiday It is a good thing. That inan is spending a happy day at the Luxemburg. He looks a very intelligent man, and I only wish I could speak French well enough to talk to him.” I was nct satisfied with this explanation, for, putting together all the things I had noticed since the previous evening, I felt sure that in some way we had become ob- jects of suspicion. However, I was so frightened of spoiling John’s pleasure by telling him what I thought that I said no more. I may add that though I kept a sharp lookout for the man in the blouse, I did not see him again that afternoon. We stayed in the Luxemburg till it closed, and then had a delightful walk home, only Icsing our way twice on the road. At the pension an unpleasant surprise was in store for us. As we were going upstairs to our room to prepare for dinner, M. Mont- barbon came running after us. “Monsieur Wilson! Monsieur Wilson!’ he eried, “here is a paper for you.’’ With these words he thrust a yellow pa- per into my hands. It was a sheet folded cver and sealed, without an envelope. On the outside were printed the words Com- missariat de Police, underneath which were my husband's name and address. “Look at this John,” I cried, turning pale and feeling my heart beat. “We will look at it in our room,” said Jcbn, taking my arm and leading me up- stairs. When we had feached our rooms he kiss- ed me and said, ‘Now let us look at this naughty paper, which made my little wo- man turn so pale.” He broke the seal, and, unfelding the pa- per, laid it out on the table. It was a print ed form, with some blanks filled in in writ- ing. After much puzzling, and frequent ref- erence to a pocket dictionary, we trans- lated the communication as follows: “What a goose it ou are requested to attend at the of- fice of the Commissary of Police of the arrondissement, at 10 o'clock to- morrow, on business concerning yourself. The woman Wilson is also requested to at- tend. Bring this letter with you.” An illegible signature was affixed to this doeument. “‘The woman Wilson,’” I cried,- indig- rantly. “French politeness, indeed!” “My dear,” said my husband, “that is only the French legal form. Don’t you re- member that Marie Antomette was always referred to as ‘la femme Capet.’ And what better title can be given to a woman than that of woman?” “But what can be the meaning of this precious document?” I cried. “Oh, John, why did we ever come to Paris?” He soothed me and kissed me. “Don't be alarmed, dear,” he said. “No doubt some mistake has been made. Perhaps they Want to see our papers. I read something recently to the effect that foreigners were ne ee by a Eo ies law, to register ir names a’ le police office. Tha: be the business. cen As we were going downstairs, we saw one of the lady boarders coming out of her elaies the = Sage of'us. When ‘w us coming, she suddenly sl: the door and locked it. orien ons am aah ee as being taken for Fieves,” I said, feel read; mortificatio: at 2 Same John, however, only laughed. Our dinner might have been even more unpleasant than on the previous night. We were received in icy silence, and during the whole course of the meal nobody spoke to either of us. It is true that I never ad- dressed a word to anybody, but continued the conversation that I had had with my husband on our walk home, about the beau- tiful pictures and sculpture which we had seen. And though John does not talk at neals he lerstood why I kept addressing him and exerted himself to keep me in countenance. So that, after all, I enjoyed my dinner very much, for there is nobody in the world in whoge conversation I take more pleasuré than my husband's. As soon as dinner was over, and while I was wondering how I should face the ordeal of the drawing room, John came up to me, and whispered, “Let us retire to the rob- bers’ cave,” at which I laughed so loudly, for I was feeling rather hysterical, that everybody in the room turned and stared at me. Not that their stares affected me; in- eed, I laughed all the way to our room ‘We spent u very pleasant evening together, playing matador, which is an amusing vari- ety of the game of dominos. John would not let me speak about the matter which was troubling me. “We will see all about that tomorrow,” he said, whenever I attempted to broach the subject. I confess that I felt very nervous when next morning we set out to go to the police office. Not that I have ever done anything have always held the | French police in special terror. I myself in the Bastile or at the Chateau d‘lf, and thought of Fouche and the Abbe Faria M. Montbarbon, to whom my hus- band had explained matters, insisted on accompanying us. I am sure it was merely out of curiosity, and not at all from Gesire to assist us: indeed, I that he was mainly noyance to which we were subjected. ‘When the red lamp. of the police office came in sight, as we turned down a side to the In outer room, which we jt entered, we found a smart clerk, the commissary’s secretary, Cleveland’s Baking Powder, Manufactured originally by Cleveland Brothers, Albany, N. ¥., now by the Cleveland Baking Powder Company, New York, has been used by American housewives for twenty-five years, and those who have used it longest praise it most. It is perfectly pure and wholesome. Its composition is stated on every can. It is always uniform and reliable. It does the most work and the best work. It is the strongest of all pure cream of tartar pow- ders, as shown by the U. S. and Canadian Govt. Reports. 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I was too flurried to take much notice of him at the time, but I am sure now that it was the man who had followed us the day before. We had to remain standing until the secre- tary had disposed of the two women. This took some time, because they both spoke at once, and the young man could not take down a definite statement from either. At last he lost his temper, and bundled them both out of the office, returning laughing to his desk. He sat down and pretended t« write, leaving us standing still. At last h+ looked up and asked M. Montbarbon: “What's at your service, sir?” My husband then handed him the yellow summons. “Oh, yes,” sald the young man, giving me a good stare. “I know. The commis- saire will see you directly Then he jumped up and handed me a chair. “Per- haps madame will be seated,” he said, and going up to the window, began to roll a cigarette. Just then the door of an inner office, on which was painted, “Cabinet du Commissairs was opened, and an old gen- tleman put his head in and said, “Entrez.” By the time we had all entered this room he had got back behind his desk, into his seat, whence he eyed us magisterially. “You can speak in English,” he said to my husband. “I speak that language.” Then he turned to me and said, “Pray be seated.” “I have come with my wife,” began my husband. “The ‘woman Wilson,’ I interjected. “Hush, Mary,” said John, with the shad- ow of a frown. “I have come with my akg in obedience to your summons. This is it.” And so saying he laid the yellow paper on the magistrate’s desk. The commissary took it up, and examined it with his eye- glasses. Then, suddenly, addressing him- self to M. Montbarbon, he said: “And who are you?” I was quite delighted to see the confusion with which the abashed boarding house keeper answered this question. His humility and deference contrasted strongly with his manner toward us on previous oc- casions. “Well, Mr. Wilson, said the commissary, “I want to see you, to know who you are. Have you any papers—a passport, a certificate of identity, or other such docu- ment? Some doubts as to your etat civil have risen.” “But, sir, how can such”—began my hus- band. “Excuse me, sir,” said the magistrate. t is I who have to ask questions here.” “I beg your pardon,” sald John, far too politely, I thought. “‘My etat civil is a very piain one. My name is John Wilson. 1 am a clergyman of the Church of Eng- land, and officiate at the Church of St. Oswald in London, where I live. This lady is my wife. I have no passport, because 1 did not know that English people traveling in France needed such a document, and £0 id not provide myself with one. I have, however, a receipt for rent from my land- lord. Here it is. Also an income tax form. This is it. These are all the papers of identification which I possess.” The commissary pursed his lips, and, after examining these papers, tossed them aside and said: “These are not sufficient. You must be identified in a more satisfactory manner. I am afraid I shall have to detain you un- til this is done. Did you never travel un- der the name of Sullivan?” “Certainly net,” said my husband, with a laugh. As for me, I felt more inclined to cry. We were to be detained, it appeared, and all my terrors returned upon me. M. Mcntbarbon, I noticed, had drawn away frcm vs, as though he feared to be com- promised by remaining in our proximity. “Need my wife be detained?” continued my husband, with a very serious look on big face. “There is some absurd misun- derstanding here, I can see, and, though I am quite ready to do anything to clear i I must protest ainst anything j likely to distress my wife. }, “That's nonsense, John,” I said. “If you have to to prison, of course I shall go with you.” | “There is no question of prison,” said the magistrate, “at least, not yet. The fact is, monsieur, we have been informe? that you and madame are not what you represent yourselves to be, but two chev- aliers d’industrie, of American nationality, whose real name is Sullivan.” “We never were in America in our lives,” I cried. “On what, may I ask,” sald my hus- band, this extraordinary supposition based?" “It is not usual for me to answer such questions,” answered the commissary. “However, I do not mind telling you that the suspicions of our informant were at first arcused by seeing in a St. Louis pa- per an article from Paris on the nefarious doings of the Sullivan couple, which was il- lustrated with their portraits. These por- traits are undoubtedly yours.” Jcbn’s blank look of astonishment was so comic that, agitated as I was, I burst out laug! “This is the paper,” said the magistrate. “You gan look at the article and the por- jumped up, and, holding one side of mene while John held the other, look- I the ed at the column which M. Montbarbon dramatically pointed out to us. The paper was “The St. Louis Pioneer,” and the arti- cle in question was headed, “Toughs on the Read,” ith a number of subhe: » John,” 1 cried, quite true. .” said y, Seizing a pen. But, John,” I added, “those are the photographs I sent to Bob, my in E Kelso, just after we were engage ‘And that explains it,” said my husband. “See, here is “Robert Kelso’ at the bottom of the article.” “And now that I come to think of it,” I sried, “Bob wrote to mamma some time ago that he was contributing articles to some American paper. He must have used our photographs by mistake.” “I daresay,” said John, who had quite recovered his good humor. “I that I am described as an ‘abandoned vil lain.’ ” Then he turned to the commissary and gave what we considered the explanation of the misunderstanding. The magistrate was, however, not so easily satisfied, and re- peated that unless we could get somebody to identify us he should be forced to detain us. John then remembered that the chi lain to the British embassy was an old col- lege friend of his, and asked to be allowed to send for him. The magistrate gave him permission, ard placed writing materials before him; but hardly had John begun his letter when the secretary came in with a note for his superior. It was a communica- tion from the head police office. When he had read it he Jumped up and said: “You need not write. A thousand par- dons. A mistake has been made. The pre fecture has just informed me that the Sul- livan couple have been under lock and key for some days past at Lyons. I will detain you no longer. I apologize sincerely. Mad- ame, I am confounded.” “My congratulations, monsieur and mad- ame,” cried M. Montbarbon, effusive when, the commissary having bowed out, we found ourselves once more in streets. “Of course,” he continued, now he “1 knew that all was right, but did you notice anything in the conduct of your fellow boarders?” “Oh, no.” said John, and I don’t believe he had. I said nothing. I was too glad to be free again. “Well, you see, a gentleman there takes the Pioneer,” continued Montbarbon, “and he recognized your portraits at once, and, of course, what was written about those Sullivans was too dreadful.” “And so 1 suppose one of our kind friends informed the: police abput us?” I cried in- dignantly. I must admit that both the Montbarbons and our fellow-boarders did the best to atone for their unjust suspicions about us, and that the rest of our visit to Paris was a very pleasant one. As to Bob Kelso, my cousin, he came to see us just before we left. I shall not forget the appearance of his face when I put that copy of the Pion- eer before him and said, “Will you tell us what that means?” I never saw a man look more confused, and when I had told_him what had been the consequences of his act, it was a long time before he could find words with which to express his regret. What disposed John more than anything else to pardon him was the absolute frankness with which he admitted his fault. “The Pioneer people,” he sald, “won't take any articles which are not illustrated. I have to find photos to go with my letters, whether they are the right people or not. I have used up the most of my album in that way. Aunt Martha, for instance, figured recently as an Orleans princess, and old Mr. Parker—you remember him, Mary—as an absinthe drinker in the last stages. When I had to illustrate my article on the Sullivans, a young couple, I hesitated be- tween you two and the Bromsgroves. You see, as a rule, the pictures are quite un- recognizable when they are printed, and so no harm is done. And the editor insists on Mlustrations. Of course, I didn’t know that you were coming to Paris, or that this Pioneer ever came over here. Iam awfully sorry, I assure you.” John gave him a long lecture on honesty, and then forgave him. I cannoi say that I felt quite as forgiving—the Mrs. Sullivan whose description accompanied my portrait was suche dreadful woman. And if, as Bob sald, this sort of thing is new journal- ism, I can only say that I prefer the old. ——-+e+ An Art Criticiam. From Household Words. He—“I wonder what the meaning of that picture The youth and the maiden are in a tender attitude.” She—“Oh, don't you see? He has just asked her to marry him, and she is accept- ing him. How sweet! What does the ar- tist call the picture? He (looking about)—“Oh, I see. It's writ- ten on a card at the bottom. ‘Sold.”” —— oe “We seem to be thrown together a good deal,” observed the youth, as he picked himself up and assisted the young woman to her seat on the front of the tandem, af- ter their third fall. And she never suspected that beneath his cheerful demeanor and his sweater he con- cealed a pair of skinned elbows.—Chicago Tribune. A PERTINENT From Leslie's Weekly. DEDUCTION.