Evening Star Newspaper, March 6, 1897, Page 14

14 Written Ex sively for The Evening Star. “Virginia is a state of contradictions in | more than one way.’ remarked a school teacher from that siate. ‘Though there is no doubt that the memory of George ; Washington is revered by the people of that state, there is but little or no evidence of it in the laws of the state. While Wash- ington’s birthday is a national holiday, it is by no means celebrated as such through- out the state, and strange as it may seem, it 1s one of the southern states where the are not given a holicay on I do not know why this is so, but it is a fact that the public schools throughout the state, and especially the country public schools, are not given a holiday on Washington's birthday. It is rather a difficult task to teach patriotism to children under the circumstances. In | many parts of the state the schools are closed cn Gen. Lee's birthday, but ther¢ is no attention given to the birthday of Washirgion. ee * eX “It happens that I own a few houses in this city,” remarked a well known gentle- man, “and they furnish me with consider- able amusement. The demands of tenants are beyond anything that I ever imagined. ‘The ordinary demand for repairs is a thing I can stand, and do stand, but when it comes to sending to me late at night to have the Icck on an inside door fixed it is down-right funny. I had such an experi- ence recently. I rent a house out on 12th street to a young man who is employed in a railroad office. He sublets a portion of the house to a maiden lady, who is a clerk in one of the departments. It appears that the maiden lady besides other things owns a big black cat. Her ambition in this life seems to be to make the cat as comfort- able as possible even if she makes every one about her uncomfortable. She gives the cat a hearty meal before she goes to work every day and then arranges a nice lunch for the cat to enjoy at mid-day. When she returns in the evening she gives the cat a hearty dinner. This she thinks is as much the cat should eat, and in that I cor with her. The cat, however, is not satisfied with it and has a way dur- ing the night of going about the lower part of the house and getting another meal or one or two meals. ‘The lady lives in constant fear that the cat will overfeed itself. Besides being a well-fed. a rather tricky cat. and man- ages to get into rooms and devour food that thinks under the circum- stance: good for it. The lock on the door leading to the kitchen, it appears, got out of and the cat had a picnic every night. ‘It never struck tne lady that the food should be put out of the cat's way, t the danger from over- was any danger from that simply complained to her threatened to leave the house ck was not fixed so securely that ould not Gverfeed itself, and he r me late at night with his was so funny that I ordered a for the door, for the thought of ing self was a terrible one ner of my tenants. in a house on is 2 temperance society ‘jiner.’ fined’ about every temperance or- ganization he has been able to find. His a ‘finer’ also, to please him, but on S i. way of indulging in_beer. husband from finding it out posed of the bottles by sticking them down the sewer. It went along beau- tifully until the seventeenth empty bottle was pushed in. Then the sewer choked up, and a complaint came to me that the sewer was out of order. I sent a plumber there to investigate. He did, and in the job was assist’ by the husband. When the bot- tles came to light it all of a sudden got into his kead that, though I was a cruel, hard-hearted house owner, I really was nat to tlame. But, just the same, I had to pay the plumber’s bill, which was also very furny to mi ** ee * “I have lived abroad during a great part of my life,” observed a lady who takes much delight in works of ert, “and, of course, have become used to art galleries being opened on Sundays, and have seen the famous galleries in Europe crowded on Sundays by persons who are unable to visit them on other da: I was, therefore, | much interested in the opening of the Cor- coran Gallery on Sunday last and was at the door as soon as it was opened. I re- qained in the gallery until the clock rang out the hour for closing. I am free to say I never saw a more interested and refined Sunday gathering anywhere. The most perfect order prevailed, and though the crowd was too large for real pleasure, I am sure all present enjoyed the innov. tion, theugh they made a more careful study of the many famed and precions works there on other occasions, when th opportunities are more favorable. My gestion now is that all shou'd not rus the gallery on Sundays,and particularly that sidents should refrain from going there while there are so many ors in the city. There will be plenty of time and opportu- nities for residents who have never been able te visit the gallery heretofore to do so } in the future, and I am sure ft will be more | gracious not to crowd until after the vis tors have left the city. Last Sunday after. noon’s experience having been such a s cess from every point of view, It guaran- tees pleasurable Sunfay afternoons there as long as this, to me, the greatest of | Washington's many attractions, will be in existence.” ee * * “All of us remember the white horse and red-haired girl theory which had such a Tun a few years ago, and many of us still notice that the combination holds good,” said a philosophical wheelman, “but did you ever observe that the same thing is true of red-haired girls and white bicycles? If you have not, do so, and you will be Surprised at the result. The matter was under discussion among a party of young fellows at the Arlington Hotel last Sun- day. and they all rgreed to make observa- tiens and report results three days later. ‘There were seven tn the party and each of the seven agreed to get three others, mak- ing twenty-one in all, to carry out the ex- periment. They were all surprised at the cor.clusiors. fer all except one reported on Bis honor that every time he saw a red- hrired girl he saw a white bicycle in the immediate neighborhood. The red-haired girls seemed to enjoy the white horse com- bir ations. and I do not think they will se- riously object to this new one, for it is as trre in every particular.” ——— AN UNEXPECTED SITUATION. Result of a Dramme a Widow. He was about one of the handsomest @rummers that takes a Hne of samples out of New York city, and the fact that he has a salary of five hundred a month end an unlimited expense account fs a fair evidence that however giddy he may be among the giddier sex, he is no slouch of @ business man, end his beauty is no bar to his excellence as a financial investment by the firm. He had just returned from a long trip, and the other day In the store he was en- tertaining a group of listeners with an ex- perience or two. “Of course,” he sald, “you have all seen these living photograph machines, which pose under-a-lot of names, like the Politeness to !in the audience. simple enough and remarkable enough and beautiful enough they are, too, but you wouldn't think they were dangerous, would you?” *‘Nobody seemed to think that could be possible. till,” he went on, “they are dangerous. and I had the most trying time I think I ever had in my Efe, all on account of one of the confounded things not more than three weeks ago. It doesn't make any difference where it occurred, but in one of the southern cities where I have recently been selling a large quantity of goods there was a biograph on exhibition. In the sume town also was a widow whom I had known for about two weeks and who, un- hke a good many widows, had a great love for her late husband. Indeed, he had been dead only about a year and she was still very devoted to his memory, though she had begun to ‘take notice’ again and was a most charming woman. Young,too, and devilish pretty. “Well, I wanted to show her some at- tention, and, as she was not goizg out any, and we had to be very conservative in our divertisements, so I selected the bio- graph one evening and asked her to go. It was the first night it had opened in the town, and she thought there would be no harm in going, though it would have shocked her greatly to g0 to the theater. The hall in which the exhibition was given was not large, and it was com- fortably filled with the best people in the town. The pictures were of American sub- jects, including Niagara, street scenes in various cities, soldiers marching, proces- sions moving, and that kind, and for the first half hour I was thoroughly interested and she was even more so. “We had just seen a fine water effect of the Niagara rapids and the lecturer an- nounced that the next picture would be a street scene taken a year or so ago in the capital cf the state, and there were a num- ber of people in the picture who were of sufficient prominence to be knewn to many Then the lights went out, the machine began to buaz and splutter and everybody was all expectation till the pic- ture showed up. To me it was cnly a street scene of more than usual activity, with one couple evidently trying to catch a street car in the foreground of the picture, for they came right down the center as large as life and as if they were coming right out over the footlights, the man with a broad grin on his healthy, round face and the woman hanging on to his arm and laugh- ing, as if they were having a fine time. Everybody laughed, and so did I, but in the midst of It—you know it lasts only a min- ute—a smothered scream came out of the darkness beside me, and on the instant my widow went down on the floor at my feet in a heap. “The house was all excitement in a mo- ment and the lights went up at once, which to some extent quieted the people, but did not have much effect on me, as it did not lift the widow to her feet nor restore her to consciousness, for she was lying there as limp as a rag, and I didn't know what in thunder to make of it. “It was not long, though, until rescuers came to my relfef, and very soon she was taken into an ante-room, where a physician came to her, and as soon as she recovered sufficiently she was taken home in a car- riage and I was excused from further at- tendance. At the same time a large number of people in the audience were well aware of what had caused all the trouble, for they had recognized the almost living couple who came out of that picture as if they were going right over the footlights as the widow and her husband, who had happened to be right in the midst of the rush when the biograph photograph picture was made, although neither of them knew it until 1t was too late. Even then they thought it was only an ordinary photo- graph taken by a local photographer. “If you have never seen one of these liv- ing pictures of a person you know you can have no idea what a peculiar sensation it gives you to see the person actually moving and smiling and talking right before your very eyes when you know he is hundreds of miles away. It is much more affecting when the person ts dead; and you can guess how it must be when the dead person thus brought face to face with the living, ap- parently as merry and gay as the best of them, is some loved one—a dear husband, as in this instance.” The handsome drummer took a long breath, as of intense relief. “I know,” he went on to the finish, “if you don't, and I am sure I do not want to be put into that kind of a position any more. She didn’t get over it either fora week, and when I heard from her through one of my customers yesterday, she was still so nervous that she would only see old friends and was not yet able to ac- knowledge by letter the flowers I sent her when I took my departure the next day.” eee mee Scruggs’ Joke on His Dog. From the Chicago Record There ts a clerk in the War Department at Washington with a keen sense of humor, who, for the purpose of identification. I will call Daniel Webster Scruggs. He is what people call “a funny man.” He spends about half the time he should de- vote to his official duties thinking up con- undrums, puns, practical jokes and other disagreeable things. When his fellow clerks find mucilage In their ink bottles and crooked pins in their chairs they always bless Scruggs, but he has been warned by the chief of his division so many times that he is less humorous in the office rowadays than he used to be. But at home, with his wife and six children, there is no one to restrain him, and the neighbors are good-natured. Mrs. Scruggs is a patient, long-suffering woman, and says she Is “so used to it” that “she doesn't mind him any more.” She is nursing Scruggs just now with a devotion that shows her gen- ulne affection for the man who has been a perpetual torment during seventeen years of married life. For Scruggs is a victim of nis own humor. About a week ago Scruggs conceived the idea of shaving off his abundant whiskers, and one evening after office hours, without saying a word about his intention, left them on the floor of a barber shop. When he got home he thought he would have ome fun with the children. So he turned is coat and hat inside out, let himself into the hallway of his residence with a latch key, and, hunching up his shoulders like a tough, made some queer notses. The children rushed out of the sitting room, followed by their dog, which is about as big as a flour barrel, and stopped with alarm as they saw what they supposed to be a tramp. But the dog was not at all fright- ened. He sprang at the stranger with an eloquent growl, and in an instant he and Scruggs were rolling over and over on the hall floor. The children screamed, and their mother came hurrying from the kitchen. Scruggs shouted and coaxed and swore, but the dog didn’t see the joke, and didn’t recognize his voice, and Mrs. Seruggs and the oldest boy were a long time separating the combatants. ‘They sent for the doctor, who cauterized the wounds and bound ‘them up carefully. He says that Scruggs had a narrow escape and will not be able to return to his duties for a fortnight. The clerks in the office say that it was good enough for him. ++ -___ Looking for the Mille: From Comte Cuts. Ragged Waystde—“Why did yer steal dat scientific paper when dere wuz lots wid gals’ pictures in dem lyin’ round?” Wandering Willy—“I like ter read "bout de invention of labor savin’ machinery. Dis will be a fine world ter live in when dere’s no more work done by hand.” + e+ —__ A Promise. From the Philadelphia Prees, “It is customary to remember the waiter, sir,” said the waiter, as the guest was about to take his leave without teeing him. “Oh, rest easy,” said the guest. “I shall not forget you. Next time I come I shall have another waiter, or I :unch elsewhere.” ————— ‘The Sanguine Inventor. From the Indianapolis Journal. “You have made fun of me a lot,” said the sanguine inventor, “but this time I have a triple-plated cinch.” “What ts it?’ asked his with very — interest. tas bio- | “What on earth is that good for?” Graph, the vitascope and that sort. And “To take poster pho! of course.” Last week a couple of mem worked a confidence game on an old gentleman whose name ts too well known in Washingion for it to be mentioned here. The story is given just as he told it. “| want to see,” he said, “how this story will strike you. It struck me two ways at on “We had just passed through Cincinnati and 1 had settled comfortably down in my seat, when a man came in and sat down behind me. In ten or fifteen minutes a man ‘rom another part of the car came over to him and said: ‘Jim, have you got any big bills? I've been collecting and wart to send some money home, but these little bills make too large a roll.” Jim replied that he had none. With that the first speaker said to me in a brusque and business-like manner: ‘Sir, ave you some large bills that you could exchange for some small ones? “Now, I had two twenties folded up in my watch pocket, but us F dis*rusted the man I said ‘No.’ I am a pretty old man, as you know, and in all my eighty-two years I have tried to stick somewhere near the truth. I decide? I was too old to be- gin lying now, so I corrected myself ard told him I had two twenties. “Well, sir, if you caa let me change one of them I will be very much obliged,’ he said, and counted out three fives and five ones. I looked at the bills and they were good money. I handed him the twenty and folded the bills up with my other twenty. Just as I was putting them in my pocket again he said: ‘Let me count it again and see if it is all right.’ Although I knew it was correct I handed it to him. He counted it over, then handed it back saying, ‘Yes, that is all right.’ Pretty soon they left the car and then I thought I would look at that money egain. I took out the roll and found that it consisted of five one dollar bills ind no more. The darned rascal had slipped cut with my fifteen dollars. “I consider that they played a good joke on me and that view of it is amusing--In a way—but I was most confoundedly mad, too.”* —_—_-—___ A BIG BIRTHDAY. A Couple of Washington Pickaninnies Have an Argument. One of the always interesting features of the social problem of the city of Washing- ton is the colored kid, the pickaninny of the olden time, for from this condition of his kind grows the man. He is in evidence everywhere, always, and was especially so on Thursday last, when the town was full of parades and music. Out of all the thousands, however, two struck a Star reporter as a little more in- dividual than any or all of the others. ‘These two were in a doorway in 12th street about 6 o'clock in the evening, when the parade had passed into the realm of never- again, and the music was stilled. They wie talking over what they had seen and lone. “Never was no finer percession dan dat,” sald one, after recounting some special feature. “Washin'ton ain't in it a minute wid Mc- Kinley, is he?” said the other. “What's Washin’ton got to do wid it?” inquired the first one. ““Nuffin, on’y we didn't do his birfday up like we done McKinley's, da’s all.” The first one got up and proceeded to leave his companion. “Look here, you nigga,” he said half in disgust and half in pity, “I don’t wanter "soclate wid no boy as oid as you is dat Gon’t know no better’n not to know dat de fo'th of March ain’t Mistah McKinley's birfday, and dat all disher hullaballooin’ we been doin’ ‘round de streets ain’ cele- bratin’ it. Da's what,” and the boy, evi- dently the younger one, chased himself around the corner and disappeared. ae Set A LESSON IN ECONOMICS. A Young Woman Gives a Young Man Some Valuable Tips. Again it is a Washington girl. This time she appears as an angel of economy to a young man who needs that kind of angelic administration about as much as any other young man in the capital city, and she is just as successful as if she were trampling him under her scornful heel and making him feel how utterly help- less man is in confiiet with the irresistible. “By Jove,” he was saying, “this sort of thing 1s simply intolerable. “What sort of thing?” she inquired, with admirable poise. “Why, I have just had to pay a messenger forty cents to deliver a note up town for me, and he was gone less than half an hour. It would be cheaper to have hired a cab and horse and driver, and still cheaper to have sent it by mail under a special de- livery stamp.” “What was the note?” she asked, woman like, before she thought. “A response to an invitation to dinner.” “Forty cents is cheap for a good dinner, she smiled. “But I couldn't go,” he wailed. “It was a declination, and the forty cents on top of that. Really, though, this messenger ser- vice is a rank imposition, and should not be tolerated. Twenty-five cents an hour is ample, with short distances at ten or fifteen cents. The convenience is easily worth that, but more than that ts plain extortion, and the greed of monopolies. “You talk Hke a populist,” she responded, “and you have my sympathy. You are the more entitled to It, because you don’t seem to know any better. Now, why aren’t you as bright as a man I know, who hasn't any more mgncy than you have? When he has a note or a book to send to a girl, he doesn’t waste forty cents on a grinding mo- nopoly—oh, that’s what it is,” she laughed, as she noted his look of surprise, “we have a call in our house, and I am compelled to use it, sometimes—but he does a much bet- ter thing. He just adds ten cents to his for- ty, slips around to the florist’s, orders fifty cents’ worth of violets sent to the girl, puts the note in with the flowers, and there you are. See? Only ten cents out, and think how much in—for girls do love flowers, even fifty cents’ worth.” The young man began gasping for air. “Or,” she went right on, “‘if it is the sea- son wnen flowers are mcre expensive than messenger service, just substitute candy for flowers. You can get something perfectly lovely for sixty cents, and to add a book or pleasant note to it makes it well worth the girl's kindest thought, and your twenty cents extra. Now, is the plan clear to your stupid brain?" Whether it was or not, the young woman that very afternoon received a delightful note of thanks for valuable information, accompanied by a fifty-cent bunch of vio- lets from a well-known florist. —_>—__. A Premature Demand. From Puck. The Footpad—“Yer money or yer life!” The Count—“B—but, sair, I married be until ze next month.” ra aes Unnecessary Query. From the Philadelphis Press. “The rhinoceros at Central Park has two tor.gues. “Female, I suppose?” —_——_ +00 Why It Failed to Work. The train was going at full speed, says the Chicago Tribune, when a shaggy- haired passenger who had got on board at the last station thrust his head out through a window, and his old slouch hat blew off. Lee nductor,” he yelled, “I’ve lost my ‘hat wasn’t my fault,” replied the con- ductor. “Ticket, please.” “The ticket was in my hat!" “Oh, it was! “Yes, it was. Ticket fur Atlanta.” The conductor pulled the bell rope and escorted the passenger to the platform of the car, “There,” he said, as the train stopped, “is your hat, rolling along ahead of the engine, and there isn’t any ticket in it.” And he kicked him off. The shaggy-haired pilgrim had made the mistake of boarding an Alabama train that was going with the wind and falling to keep up with it. z e+ Doubtless. From the Philadelphia Press, Mickey—“Whadger git in yer sock Chris’~ mast?’ Hie Pela cent — — Mickey—That's funny. Wonder why?’ ‘Tim—“Maybe it's ‘cause I didn’t have no sock.” THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MARCH 6, 1897-24 PAGES, FACLNG DEATH. Yee 29 Written fore Ei Star. “Jore Mygillo yas his name,” said the old fellow isitting on the dock where the ships ffonesthe teopics comé in with their cargoes offfrutt ind of hard woods, “and he lived one of the outlying villages which are parts,.of ‘the City of Mexico. ‘That was years ‘and years ago, and there was not then the peace in Mexico that there is now. Jose was of my age, and he took to th@ land?as I took to the water, So he stayed at hame while I went roaming over the world iti ships of all kinds.” “You are'not d’sailor yet?” said the lis- tener in surprise. “No, but! my boys are,” smiled the old man tn reply, “and their ship from the south comes in today, and will land at this dock. Their boys are with them, for my boys are not what you will call ‘boys’ when you see them, though they will al- ways be that to me.” “You spoke of Jose Murillo, isn’t that the name of a ship that comes here?” “Yes, yes, and Jose Murillo was the hero who made the name worthy. Of him let me speak. As I said, he took to the land, and in time he married, and there were two pretty children in ‘bis little home. Then war came and Jose became a soldier. He was a brave soldier and a good man, and would have covered himself with Story, but sickness oame to his family, and his wife and children were taken down with the fever that is so deadly about the city. Jose begged with the officers to let him go home if for no longer than to see his wife and babies for the last time, but they refused him. Again he pleaded, and again was refused. Then came a little not2 from his mother, and that night Jose disarpeared, found a week later by a party of soldiers, weeping in the little graveyard on the hillside above the village. There was a new made grave and in it slept Jose's wife and babies. ‘The soldiers were very gentle with him, for they knew; but it was their duty to obey and they took him away without re- sistance, for I think Jose did not care now, and was willing to suffer whatever punish- ment might be given to him, for it could not be greater than his sufferings already were. They took him away, as I say, and it was not long until the judges who ‘tried him said that he must die, for he had de- serted from his post in the face of the enemy. It was true, too, but Jose had not gone to see his wite and babies die be- cause he was a coward. Oh, no. It 1s men like that wno make a country great for it he had not loved them so, could he have loved his country? I am sure he could not. I am sure that to have been such a deserter was to have a nrouder record than to have held his post and lived. In time of war there is no delaying of death, and on the day after the judges had decreed that Jose should die he was lcd out of the prison, just as the sun was ris- ing, and taken to a little opening with a high wall to one side of it, and there he was to have a prayer said over him and he was to be shot. Shot in the back, too, as @ coward, for had not Jose Murillo desert- ed In the face of the enemy? And what was that but such cowardice as only dis- Sraceful death could wipe out? “But Jose was not thinking of the mili- tary law that was to be executed upon him, nov was he thinking of the right or the wrong of it. His thoughts were with his wife and babies lying in, the little graveyard where his own dead heart was, and he had no other care except for them that he might at least not die as a coward with his back to the bullets that were to let his Ife out at the vents they made in his poor body. Heihad asked that they let him stand with his eyes looking into the guns, but they had told him that he was to die like a deserter and a coward, so when he was led forth and was stood up to receive the punishment the law had measured for his! offense he was blind- folded and his back was the target. “But theré was a friend of Jose’s there, a friend who had tried to have him die facing his déath, and he stood out in the crowd to one side as near the prisoner as he could get, and'where he could see the silent signal which the officer of the fir- ing squad was to ‘give, in order that the condemned tian would at least be spared that dreadftt instant between the com- mand and the firing. Then’ while all about the place of'exectition were waiting as still as death the officer raised his hand with the handkerthief teady to drop when the guns were to blate out for Jose's ending. For an irstant tt“held there, and in that second @ sharp Httle whistle, as of a bird beyond the wall, rose on the air, and with it Jose whirled ‘suddenly and ‘faced the guns as they shot out their deadly tongues of fire and smoke ard lead to lick his blood. “Thus died Jose Murillo, who loved his country not less, but who loved more what made his country worth living and fighting for, and when he fell to the earth that sun- shiny morning, dead, with the bullets in his breast, not a man of all who were there wished that those bullets had been tn his back. “They buried him in the graveyard where the soldiers had found him weeping and took him to his death, and on the vlain stone above him are these words in Span- ish: ‘Murio por su esposa e hijos,’ mean- ing ‘He died for his wife and children.’ Are they not as beautiful as those which the world seems to think are the grandest of all: ‘He died for his country” And who, seeing them above him, would not say, if they had not known his story, that such a man would dle for his country?’ W. J. LAMPTON. ee THERE WERE THEN NO SALOONS. A Time When Washington Had Only Taverns and Bar Rooms. “‘Lager Beer Saloon’ was fifty years ago,” says an old-timer, “an odd sign to many of us, for that now-popular drink was comparatively unknown to the people of the District. There were but few places where liquor was sold known as saloons, for the English for drinking places was the ‘tavern’ and ‘bar room,’ and the word ‘saloon’ seems to have come into use with the advent of the German beer. In the taverns of the city the favorite drinks were the distilled drinks (whisky, etc.), and the soft drinks, porter, ale, cider and beer—the latter an English beer, which came in bot- tes. A favorite soft beverage was ‘’alf and ‘alf,’ especially with those who came from the British isles. If I mistake not, ene of the first lager saloons established here was on Maryland avenue, west of the Capitol grounds, and, as I remember, there was naught but beer and light wines to be had at this place. When, however, lager was introduced, it soon became a popular drink, and the number of saloons increased rapidly. There were at this time a number of temperance organizations tn the District —for the effects of the great temperance revival started by the Washingtonians had not been dispelled—divisions of Sons of Temperance and associations of Brothers of Temperance, George Savage, Dr. Flod- vardo Howard and A. F. Cunningham be- ing prominent apostles, while among the Catholics Rev. Father Mathews of St. Pat- rick’s was a temperance leader. —— An‘Amefican Luxury. From the New; York Herald. ~ The thing *¥ espéclally enjoyed after a somewhat lefthy sojourn on the other side was a real genuine American grate fire,” commented the traweler. “In London I felt as if I was‘burnfifg something very pre- cious with tié larilflady charging sixpence a scuttle for coal I remember sittirg around a stave imsn English hotel. The weather was told, Bnd the coal in the stove bunched togfther!, I took a poker and stirred It up. | st “That males it;burn faster,’ commented the landlord, ‘gravély. “That's jugt whgt I want,’ I -eplied. “A red-f: hegrty Englishman broke tn: ‘You Americans are deueedly thin bload- ed, don’t you; know?” “Then in Italy you shiver about all win- ter, and in Germaay those big, nigh crock- ery stoves never seem to thaw you out. So when I arrived Ae sAmmerinasin midwinter ¥ had a jolly big in the room at my hotel and I piled on the coal, knowing that it would not break my bank, in spite of the rices of the big,. abominable coal trust. t. after one. has-paid sixpene> a seuttle for a mighty little scuttle of coal he does disposed :to criticise the trust. I felt Hke a lord... ‘thin-blooded. American’ " JOHNSON” Written Exclusively for The Evening Sta Incidentally Observed. No mind-reader, he; yet with confidence fine, He said: “As the crowds slowly move down the Hine, We'll see many a girl to these haunts all unknown, But I'll tell you the city that calls each tts own, And one who was radiant as new-dawning dav. With fairy-like footsteps came passing that way. “This town is a peach!” she exclaimed; “Hully gee!” My friend winked his eye. York,” murmured he. “From New Another, demure as the violet rare, Looked ‘on with a thoughtful and pitying air; “To think, these poor folks don’t have scrapple!” she sighed. “Philadelphia! That's easy!” promptly cried. my friend With glances uncertain, she lingered to Raze; k It was plain she was lost in the city’s broad maze. “Oh, where are we at?” she exclaimed in distress. “Atlanta,” quoth he, dress.’ “ig her usual ad- In tones scarcely heard mid the bluster and blare, She coced to the youth who escorted her there: “I hope they'll hore pig’s fcet for dinner lay! “Cincinnati!” What else could a listener say? She said, with a laugh which like bells tinkled light, “The Washington monument’s really a sight; But ae we have buildings much tailer than that.” “Chicago!” The answer came swiftly and pat. One lifted her glasses and pensively signed: “The tympanum here most severely is tried; The assemblage is highly cacophonous, dear.” From Boston she came. fectly clear. That was per- * * Slightly Bewildered. Before daybreak on the 5th of March he was in the railway station making numer- ous inquiries about the trains. He was answered concisely and with patience, and he remarked with a grateful smile: “I don’t want you to think I haven't en- Joyed myself in this town. I wouldn't for the world be regard- ed as casting any re- flections on the hos- pitality of the na- tion's capital nor the efficiency of the en- tertainment committee. But I'm a reason- er. I got into the habit of reasoning two or three years ago, and even on the most hilarious occasions I can’t help thinking about things, and that’s what makes me anxious to get back home.” 2” said the employe. “Tired, are you? “Rather. You see, I realize more than most people. I don’t accept the mere as- sertions of school books and newspapers on any subject,” he went on with the van- ity of a philosopher who has at last found an audience. “I figure out every proposition for myself. For instance, I have no doubt that you would claim that tomorrow will be the 6th of March.” “Of course I woul.” “You'll excuse me for rayingelt, but that shows how you share the thoughtlessness of the general public. You look at the cal- endar and because that says so, you take it for granted. Now, as a matter of fact, there is no way cf telling exactly what to- morrow witl be. For months people had been making preparations to enable us to get about three days of experience and ex- citement into twenty-four hours at the in- auguration. Mind you, I don’t say exactly three days. But what we called the 4th of March would certainly be accepted as the equivalent of more than one day or two days in the life of the average citizen. So that at the lowest estimate this period of existence which we call ‘today’ is actual- ly, at the lowest calculation, day after to- morrow. Of course, I don’t try to make other people live up to my ideas in such a matter. Uniformity is more of an object than absolute accuracy. Whenever any- body tells me what day he thinks it is, by the calendar, I will smilingly acquiesce; but in my heart of hearts I will know better.” “— think I understand,” the employe an- swered. “‘And you want to get back home before you lose eny more time. “That's not the only consideration. I don’t like living so far inland. I’ve got a place as close to the ocean as I could build, and I don’t feel safe anywhere else. A few years ago I got interested in science. Now, you might think that this coniinent nat- urally grew here. But it didn’t. Geology proves that it was formerly covered with water and just naturaliy bulged its way out, inundating what was formerly dry land.” ut isn’t that terribly ancient history?” ‘Whatever has happened once Is likely to happen again. And the greatest events usually occur in the most unexpected man- ner. I stick close to the coast line. I have a lot of life preservers always handy, and when the next bulge comes along I'll be all prepared to climb over and set up a home- stead claim on the new ground, without suffering any xreater inconvenience than a ducking. You've been polite and patient with me, and I’m glad to give you the tip, although I don’t dare talk about it to ev- erybor for fear of being taken for a crank.’ * A Professional Hint. The young man with the intellectual face and gentle manners looked all around the room and saw no one in whom he felt like confiding until he observed the debon- nair countenance of the horse race editor. Gcing up to him he said: “I wish to have some poetry examined with a view to its publication In your pa- per. Can you attend to it?” “If it is the right kind of poetry I can handle it. News is a Httle slack, ani if you can let me have something about some old plug that went in as a hundred to one shot and won the mortgage off the home- stead I might weigh it in for you I'm not giving any tips on whether you'll get a chance to finish, though; we've got some strict judges cn this paper, and you're Mable to be disqualified long before you show your colors on the track.” “You mean, I infer, that the man who undertakes a Hterary career has a hard race before him.” ~ “Exactly so.” 5 “I'm rather afraid this poem won't ex- actly suit you,” he went on, producing his manuscript. “It isn’t about a mortgage.” poem’s being any didn’t take up a lot gS Giger spermidine ng = visitor read in a subdued voice: ‘The evening shadows come and hide the weary, sorrowing man. Like monks of old, with lifted hands, whose garb obscures the light, They breathe a benediction erg I bid the world good night. Good-night, good-night, old world; May all thy shadows gray Like these be swiftly furled ‘As darkness yields to day. The horse race editor looked discouraged. “There are several more stanzas,” the caller explained, “but that'll give you an idea.” “I see. You want to trot it off in heats. What you need is a lot more training.” “Of course; discipline is always valua- Die.” “You'll have to change your system. You want to make up your mind what yor're going to enter for befcre you go to the post. You can’t change your gait Hke that. Make it one thing or another.” ‘I had my doubts about the form—al- though I became convinced before I fin- ished that ft was allowable in a lyrical composition. The change from the hepta- meter to the trimiter serves the same pur- pose that a refrain does in & song. “There's no use arguing about it. It wouldn't be allowed anywhere. You let yourself out for a mile at the start and then gauge your mind and finish it up at three furlongs. It’s even worse than that. You open up at a gallop as hard as you can go. And the first thing anybody knows you drop into a trot. And anybody will tell you there isn’t the least show for you unless you can get over that habit.” * * * The Balbul Helps Inaugurate. “It is a sad fact,” writes the Bulbul of Pohick, “that this country has not got any poet-laureate nor poetess-laureatess. I fell it my duty to see that so great an oc- easion as that which ® we have just wit- } nessed in Washing- ton is not neglecied. What ts everybody’: business is noboly’s business, and f£ do not wish to see this duty shirked. Of course, the subjest will be much wrote on. Indeed, it is « ing to a prevailing impression that anybody who has some spare time and a postage stamp can do a stint in the poetry line, that I take my pen in hand to tend to the job rght before the epportunity is spoiled. THE INAUGURATIO: Some people they long for the Fourth of uly, With bright Roman candles and pinwheels and sky- Rockets. “But give us the Fourth of March!” say [. We have plenty of fireworks on March Four, And likewise a great many things more. It was simply glorious that parade to view Gaily tripping down the avenue. A fitting tribute to a President's pow 4 To pass a given point took it several hours. They were marching purely for love of their native iand, | All except a few who play in the band, But business is business, as we all under- stand. There was an audience from all parts of the nation— Hundreds of thousands at the lowest calcu- lation; And it must have done the President's heart good To realize that each would Hold office if he could. “They come! They come!” Hear the joyous shout! Some with whiskers, and some without. Think of all those gallant men in line, And yet I am nobody’s valentine. But more than the doings out in the street I love to witness the joy compiete Where, on the sidewalk, like merry elves, Folks hustle around and enjoy themselves. Only I did occasionally wish the police Could stop some of the noises, so that we could have peace. But, alas, this fe was always so; No pleasure did we ever know, But what there happened something or other That made it different from what you'd ruther. An Abstrane Problem. “Can you direct me to the Congressional he inquired of one of the guides Yapitol. “Straight ahead of you,” was the an- Swer. “Do yod know much about that place?" “Yes. I work there.” “Good! I don’t want to break in and surprise anybody with a display of ignor- ance, and if you'll give me a little in- formaticn I'll be ever so much obliged. In the first place, are there any thick leather-bound books there with edges that get worn out, in spite of the fatt that nobody ever looks at them?” “Lots of them.” “Do you think that I could find among them something about methods of thought and the theory of syllogism and analysis of argumentation or words to that ef- fect?” “There's a tremendous lot of foolishness published nowadays, and at least two copies of every volume get into that place.” “Thank you.” “What do you want to wast® your time that way for?” asked the guide. “Why don't you let me take you eround and show you the Senate and House of Rep- resentatives and the whispering galleries and the funny echoes and the rest of the curiosities?” inquired the guide. “No; I've had festivity enough. I want to wade into a library and make some in- vestigation.” “But you came here to celebrate the in- auguration and have a good time, didn’t you?” “Yes; and I’ve celebrated all the way from the Treasury building to the Peace monument and back several times a day. Look here!” and he pulled from his pocket a crumpled toy balloon. “A man shoved that at me and shouted ‘Hooray for McKinley; Mister, don’t think of leaving the city without taking home a souvenir of the occasion!’ I was feeling so good- natured that I bought it without thinking. Here are seven collections of the latest songs of the day, for ten cents a copy. I can’t sing a note, I don’t care for music, anyhow. But I bought them.” Going from one pocket to another, he fished out a toy monkey, a magnifying giass, three packages of cough drops and a false beard. These he arranged carefully on the floor, and, standing critically aloof, exclaimed: “There's something missing. 1 know what it is. It's the canary bird that warbles when you blow into it—fill it with water and blow irto it. Oh, here it is!” And an expression of gleeful relief shone on his counterance. “In my grip sack I heve a pearl collar ——— pose Den- cil and a pair of suspenders. I'm going to take them all home and cherish them while life shall last. But, just the same, I'm going to put in five or six hours with books such as I have mentioned and study out, if EF cam, what the connection is be- tween 3 monkey, a bunch of bogus whiskers and a pewter canary bird and my patriotic enthaslasm over a historic event.” * Why They Stayed Away. ‘Mir. Corntossel’s face wore an expression of extreme unrest as he entered the room which he and bis wife were occupying dur- irg thelr inauguration visit. In his hand ‘was one of the showy periodicals devoted to the exploitation of so-called queens of burlesque. “'Mandy,” be said gravely, “I reckon was the Incredulons re- “You ain't no fortune teflor. sponse. “This ain’t no magic,” he respomled, tm- pressively. “I @idn’t hev ter cross body’s palm weth silver an’ git ‘em ter jostle the cards an’ tell me this. Ye know that changeable silk dress ye had made over fer this occasion?” “Of course. An’ a mighty was. “Ye wasted yer time. D'ye call ter mind how you an’ me had Elihu Geehaw bring ever his acccrdion so's we could practice up on schottisches an’ the Virginia reel!” “Wes. An’ we got ‘em down fine.” “I'd have done betier ter spend the time puttin’ new hinges on the corn crib. Stid- dy yerself fur the shock, Mandy; ye can’t #0 ter the ‘noggeration ball.” no- neat ‘ob it “Josiar,” inquired his wife, calmly; “air't thur goin’ ter be no ball? “"Course they're goin’ ter have it. I didn’t say nothin’ about that.” “Ye said I wasn't goin’, which amounts ter the same thing.’ “I don't say ye ain't goin’ ter hev yer own way in the end. But when the solemn facks is presented to yer mind I reckon ye won't be so brash. Knowin’ whut I know, ef ye still wanter go, I'M wash my hards of the hull business. Mandy, kin you stand on yer right foot an’ hold onto the toe of yer left slipper, wearin’ mean- while a thoughtless an’ engagin’ smile “Josiar, ef you don't stop that ("ll holler fur the hotel clerk! “Yer indignation shows thet ye don't know nothin’ "bout dancin’ ez a modern accomplishment. You'd go there weth yer schottis¢he an’ Virginia reels an’ jes’ be laughed at. Do you s'pose ye could per suade yerself ter cut off thet changeab! silk dress at the knees an’ assume a keer- less attitude of keerless grace whiles yo blowed rings of cigarette smoke around the neck of a champagne bottle?” Mrs. Corntossel made a dash for bell button, but her husband caught by the arm and gently restrained her. “There ain't no ‘casion ter git indignant,” he raid; “I'm Jes’ givin’ ye fair warnin’. 1 was anxious fur ye ter be right in the swim, but I stopped at the news stand an’ got this here fashion paper, so’s ye'd know Jes’ what's what. The picters I saw inter it was enough ter daze anybouy. I don't like ter see anybody hang back from whut's customary an’ at the same time I can’t help gittin’ kind 0’ worked up over the her what the neighbors ‘ud think ef they kiowed about it. Of course i don’t take no exceptions ter nothin’ I don’t know anythin’ about. But it seems ter me thet the best thing fur us ter to do is ter git some of the hotel stationery an’ regrets ter Major an’ Mrs. Ill go out an’ trade eff thece admission ball fur a couple of meal 1 jes’ linger around an’ see > aoe MODERN DRUG STORES. The List of Things Sold Grows Larges Every Year. From the New York Trfbune. The name “drug store” or “pharmacy” entirely fails at present to give any ade- quate idea of the establishment thus des- ignated. A drug store, besides being, its titie would indicate, a place where one may buy drugs, is also a place where one may buy so many things that in its genera! utility functions it resembles the old-f as ioned country store. Soap, perfumery brushes, stationery, candy, cigars and s da water have long h their places be- side the rows of bottles which, unpleasant but 1m ry contents, doubtless once regarded as the only imate drug store post office supplies, and since they were introduced the drug clerks have ven kept busy selling 2-cent siamps and postal cards, the rate of profit on which, it may be assumed, will never greatly ¢ the proprietors. It is true that in some in- the drug store is mi: regular h post office, in which ¢ monthiy ary is paid to the ewner. Ext this is so mall that many druggists prefer io be en- tirely independent, and to keep the supplies only to oblige their customers, The use of the directory is another venience offered gratis to the pubite, it is one which involves more wear tear on the store property in the o @ year than would be dily in 2 pay station is troduction of all to swell tai list of conveniences. It is i with this that one uptown pharm this city has begun a messenger which is unique, and which, if it become widespread, worthy the considerat District Telegraph Company. in question sent out net long ago to those of its regular patrons living within a ra- dius of a few blocks a circular advertisiag a new “district telegraph service being explained, meant that any telephone messages which might arrive at that sta- tion for any of the above mentioned pa- trons would be delivered immediately at the respective houses at the extremcy moderate tariff of 5 cents each. re mine “tion - — Only the Smallpox. From Tid-Bus. Visitor—“I'm grieved to learn of your mistress’ illness. Nothing serious—no great cause for alarm, I trust?” The new French maid—“No, nozzing beeg, nozving grande. what you cali leetle, petite. ze leetle—smail—s monsieur; Something What sey call i—smalipox.”” —s In Darkest Africa. From the Philadelphia Press. King of the Cannibals (to missionary about to be brolied)—"We'll spare your life on one condition.” Missionary (desperately)}—“‘Name it!” Chorus of Canntbals—“Tell us the words to ‘After the Ball!” Exact Information Required. From the Pittsburg Chronicle-Telograph. “Oh, Mr. Squildig!” exclaimed Mrs, Home- wood to a late arrival at her reception, “are you here at last? I have been dying to introduce you to Miss Gimp of Chicago. She paints beautifully? “Paints, does she, Mrs. Homewood?” “Face or canvas?” The Age of Chivalry. From Life. Knight—“I ‘have need of these fow:s of thine. Peasant—“Oh!—-knight——""