Evening Star Newspaper, March 6, 1897, Page 23

Pianti the horizon March 6 at 9 p.m. re for March, showing the positions of the principal’ stars that are above THE STARS IN MARCH Six Zodiacal Constellations Above the Horizon. THE CELESTIAL CALENDAR Three Evening Stars of Great Beauty. HOW THEY MAY BE LOCATED SS Written for The Evening Star. ‘The six zodiacal constellations which are now above the kerizon at 9 p.m. named in order from west to east, are Aries, Taurus, . Cancer, Leo’and Virgo. ries, the Ram, is marked by a pair of stars of the third magnitude, rather closer than the two “pointers” in the Great Dip- e in a direction northeast These two stars are in the as the figure is depicted upon the old celestial charts. The upper and brighter of the two is Alpha Arietis and is commoniy called, for short, simply Arietis. ‘The lower is Sheretan. Near this lower star a star of the fourth magnitude, which is placed by the chart maker in the Ram's left ear. These three stars consti- ically the whole of the constella- . there being in it no other star of ve the fifth magnitude. How they came t the notion of a ram is one of the and one ald con: en written in explanation ries ts the first of the zodiacal con- ns, and in a manner leads the flock, that the const its name to this circumstance. planation is rather far-fetched, and is given here for only what it is worth. Tauras. Taurus, the Bull, is a constellation nearly as fragmentary as the Ram. It consisis of Kittle more than a head and shoulders and { very long horns. The head is by the star Aldebaran, of the first Jc, and the V-shaped cluster of the ‘The still more beautiful cluster of in the Bull's shoulder. The horns are marked by two stars i magnitude. which form a able pair about twice as wide . and which Ife nearly mid- n Capella, in Auriga, and Betel- in the right shoulder of Orion. The ke feature of this constellation formed by the Hyades, the bright star Aldebaran making an excellent this star is sometimes calied It seems not unlikely that ive face was the germ cf ad tips of th lation. Derivation of Names. © Hyades was supposed anciently tved from a Greek word which ineans to rain. Hence the Romans called these stars Pluviae, a word which may be rendered Rain stars. There was a notion among them, which probably had no other foundation than this supposed significance of the name, that upon the rising of these stars rainy weather was in order. Another vation of the name was from the word swine. The name ndered Pigs, and this ¢ Latin form Suculae, was, in to de ct, a common name for these stars among the Roman rustics. Now, pigs is kot @ particularly poctic name for a star cluste at bearing in mind th: af Namers were neither pr ners, we Will lock at this cluster point of view of a simple-minded must admit that it would be i io tind a name more appropriate. The t star 1s, of course, to be regarded as CapeHa. another star in this part of the us the name of which is a little mys- , but upon which this interpretation ame Hyades, if we are right with ‘ow a little light. The i ia, the She-gout- r now to be seen in the! y midway between the hor- vella is in the » Wagoner, and goat, which the ker represents rried upon the ft arm. he Wagoner ap the goat's three goat and tnese kids in Star Capella is a very - triangle of fourth-magaltude | h may possibly afford an an- nis question. What could be more for the anclent star gazer, en In the Aldebaran and the | ) stars about it a sow and | this other bright star and companion Stars a goat and uid be said, however, to pre- yprehension, ‘that there is no Aldebaran was ever known though the Hyades were cer- the Pigs. Gemini. en) as the Sow, tainly called To return now to the zodiac, proceeding €astward from Taurus we come next to the | fon Gemini, the Twins, the two | er stars of which, Castor and Pollux, | w be found, at 9 o'clock, almost directly overhead. Upon the chart the ‘Twins are represented as two youths, the two bright stars being in their heads, while their fect about midway between their | i n Orion, now in No on 1o youths will Cnque: imply these bright ‘They were double, | ouths. The chart ible for these fig- names Castor and to these stars by . the belong Pollux Ficht, but to an entirely distinct pair of do not twins, the heroes of jegend, who, tf com- parative mythology can be trusted, had originaily no connection with the stars, but ‘were purely mythological. The original Castor and Pollux, the brothers of that Helen whose fatal beauty led to the siege of Troy—the Dark one and the Bright one, as their names signify—were simp!y per- sontfications of night and day. Hence the story that they shared between them the gift of immortality, one of them being above the ground, living, while the other ‘was dead in the lower world—a story quite im harmony with the old mythological con- ception of night and day, but which has no Point whatever when told of these two stars. There has been at some time in the past a mixing-up of two distinct sets of twins, very evidently, an astronomical and a mythological. ‘The Crab. Cancer, the Crab, which comes next, as we proceed eastward, is so poor in stars visible to the naked eye, its brightest being scarcely up to the third magnitude, that it ean best be Iccated from its position be- tween Gemini and Leo. We might pass this ccnstellation withcut further notice were it not for the fact that it contains one of the prettiest telescopic star clusters in the heavens—Praesepe, the Bechive, or the Manger, for the name admits of either in- terpretation, situated at a point about one- third of the distance from Pollux to Reg- ulus. A triangle of fourth-magnitude stars will be found here, each side of which is about five cegrees in length—the distance apart of Castor and Pollux, and of the “Pointers” in the Great Dipper. Praesepe is near the center of this triangle. To the naked cye it appears as a fleck of nebulous light. A field glass or even a good opera glass will show it distinctly as a star clus- ter, though to see it in its full beauty re- quires a telescope of some size. The two more easterly stars in the triangle referred Gamma and Delta Cancri, were known tly as the Aselli, or Asses, obviously because of their position on each side of the Manger. Here again we come upon a rustic name for stars, which should give us a little more confidence in our view of the Hyades and of the Goat and Kids. The Sickie. Still proceeding eastward, we next strike the Sickle—another object bearing a name which smacks of agriculture, and which, all must admit, was given to this group of stars for a sufficient reason. The Sickle forms the bushy head and shoulders of Leo, the Lion. In its handle ts the bright star Regulus, sometimes called.Cor Leonis, the Lion’s Heart. The hind quarters of the Lion are marked by a rectangular figure of about the size of the bowl of the Dipper, formed by four stars, of which one is of the second magnitude, one of the third and two of the fourth. The brightest of them, Denebola—a name contracted from Denab al Asad, Tail of the Lion—is in the brush of the Lion's tail, as the animal is depicted on a chart. His hind legs extend downward across the celestial equator, into the south- ern hemisphere; his fore legs extend for- ward, the Lion being represented in the act of springing on his prey. The constellation Virgo, Leo, is still—at 9 o'clock—partly below the eastern horizon. Its brightest star, Spica, the Wheat-ear, has just risen, but 1s too low to be visible. A Celestial Calendar. We have passed in review six of the twelve markers by which the ancients kept the tally of the changing seasons—the “signs by which men regulated their an- nual labors before the days of almanacs. As the sun performs its annual round of which follows of the year as readily as one can tell the hour of the day from a simple inspection of the face of a clock. ‘Thus, cn May 2) the sun would be seen (at the present time) midway between the Pleiades and the Hyades; on July 14 it would be directly south of Pollux; on Au- gust 2), close beside Regulus, and’ on Oc- tober 14 two degrees north of Spica. For an obvious reason the great celestial clock cannet be used exactly in this way, but Fractically the same thing may be accom- plished, and anciently was accomplished, by observing the aspect of the heavens just at daybreak, before the stars have quite faded from view, and noting what stars are in the neigmborhood of the rising sun. A constellation which at that hour was just appearing above the eastern horizon was said anciently to be rising, and one which was at the same hour seen low in the west was said to be setting. All “works and days” were regulated anciently by this ris- ing and setting of constellations. It was only thus that an accurate trace of the seasons could be kept. The Sun’s Travels. It was noted above that Aries is the first ef the zodiacal constellatious. Formerly the sun, upon passing the vernal equinox, or, in other words, upon crossing the celes- 1 equator from souta to north, entered ais constellation. The two points at which the sun crosses the equator—the two quinoxes—are not fixed, however, but are jing along the ecliptic, or sun's path, in @ direction from east to west, at a rate which in the last two hundred years has carried them about one-twelftn of the way around the heavens, or just the length of cne “sign.” These signs stiil continue to be reckoned from the equinox, and as a consequence they have ceased to coincide in position with the constellations which bear the same names. Thus, on the 20th of this month at 3 a.m, Washington mean time, the sun will pass the vernal equinox, and, according to the almanac, will “enter Aries.” This means the “sign,” not the constellation Aries. The sun will really then enter the constellation Pisces, which precedes Aries, and will not reach this lat- ter constellation unt!] about April 20. It will then enter the “sign” Taurus, and so on along the whole line. The sun now en- ters each sign a full month before it en- ers tae constellation of the same name. The Planets. Mercury will be a morning star through- cut the month, but too near the sun to be visible. Venus is still an evening star, setting little north of west about three hours after the sun. She is still above the horizon at 9 p.m., though too low to be visible. Venus will shine with her greatest brilllancy on the 2Ist of the month, when she will pre- sent the phase of a crescent moon about three days old, about one-fourth of her disk being then illuminated. She is now swinging round in her orbit to pass be- tween us and the sun, which she will do on the 28th of next month. Her season as an evening star is, therefore, rapidly draw- ing to a close. Her distance from us to- night is about 52,000,000 miles. Mars ts also an evening star, and is in Taurus, very nearly midway between the tps of tae bull's horns. He is about equal- ly eistant from Capella and Betelgeuse, ap- pearing as a star of the first magnitude, and may ea be identified from his well- known ruddy color. His distance from us now ts nearly 110,000.40 miles—more than twice his distance when we passed be- tween him and the on the 10th of De- cemter last. His brilliancy ts hardly more than one-fifth as great now as it was then. Jupiter. Jupiter is @ magnificent evening star, in the constellation Leo. He was in opposi- tion to the sun, crossing the meridian at midnight and shining with his greatest brilliancy for this year on the 234 of last morth. Juplier happens at the present thme to be near the point in his orbit at which his distance from us when we pass between him and the sun, is the bape year and he is, therefore, less brilliant the heavens {t passes successively through these constellations. Could the stars be seen in the daytime, one familiar with these markers could at any time tell from a simple inspection of the sky the day THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MARCH 6, 1897-24 PAGES. tion, the al east of the equinox. The distance from us to the planet is then nearly 50,000,000 miles than now. eects and Uranus are both morning stars, and are very close together in the constellation Scerpio. Saturn will be sta- tionary on the 9th of this month, and after t date his apparent movement in the levers will be ee or toward the west. The planet now rises at about 1:30 am. Neptune, invistble, of course, Is in Tacrus, about five degrees southwest of Mars. ———— THE TERRIBLE’S TRIAL. Uncle Sam’s Fast Ships. From the London Times. The Terrible, cruiser, Captain W. H. Fawkes, which was built and engined by Messrs. J, & G. Thompson of Clydebank, Glasgow, arrived at Spithead on Saturday night at the conclusion of her steam trials, and her gun trials are to be carried out forthwith. At the 18,000 horse-power trial on Thursday and Friday the vessel drew 26 feet 1 inch forward and 28 feet 10 inch aft. pounds to the square inch, and the vacuum 25.8 inches starboard and 26.5 inches port. With 102.4 revolutions starboard and 103 Pert the mean indicated horse power was 18,493 for the thirty hours, and the coal consumption was 1.71 pounds per indicated horse power per hour. The speed of the ship, as taken during three runs on the measured distance between Rame Head and Dodman Point, was 20,064 knots. Following is the official report of the princtpal four-hours’ trial on Saturday: Draught of water forward, 25 feet 9 inches; aft, 28 feet 3 inches; steam in boil- ers, 229.6 pounds; vacuum, 26 inches star- beard, 25.9 inches port; revolutions per minute, 112 starboard, 111.98 port; indt- cated horse power—starboard, 12,515; port, 13,057—total, 25.572; speed of vessel, 22.41 knots. At the conclusion of the full-power run, and when the ship had reached Rame Head, the eastern limit of the distance, the Terrible started for Spithead, in order to carry out her four hours’ 22,000 horse- power trial. Drawing the same amount of water as before, with 225 pounds of steam in the boilers and a vacuum of 26.1 inches starboard and 25.84 inches port, the engines made 108.80 revolutions starboard and 108.86 port, the indicated horse power being 10,962 starboard and 11,320 port—to- tal, 22,283. In the 5,000 horse-power trial of the Ter- rible, with sixteen boilers lighted, the coal consumption was 2.27 pounds per indicated horse power per hour, but in the Powerful it dropped to 2.07 pounds. When the latter ship went on her thirty hours’ 1,000 horse-power trial with all her forty-eight boilers in use, and with a mean of 18,433 horse power, the consumption was 1.83 pounds, whereas, in the corresponding trial of the Terrible, with 18,493 horse pewer, it dropped to 1.71 pounds. In speed both ships have surpassed ex- pectations, and here, again, the same order of progression that has been referred to is to be observed, for while on her first trip the Terrible gave a speed of 13.43 knots with 64.5 revolutions, the Powerful subse- quently averaged 14.34 knots, with 68.3 rev- olutions. At the 18,000 horse-power triaf both ships gave identically the same mean of speed—20.96 knots—over the measured distance, but while the Powerful worked at 18,677 horse power at this period of her trial, the Terrible attained the same end with 18,500 horse power. Then, at the full power trial, on November 27, the Powerful, with 25,886 horse power, gave a speed of 21.5 knots, whereas the Terrible, on Sat- urday, with 2 horse power, realized a mean of 2. the most rel the Terrible on Thursday last, when a record was taken of the speed in a light run from St. Catherine's to the Lizard, when it was found, with little more than 18,000 horse power, she maintained a speed of 21.03 knots. HER DISQUIETING QUESTION. Ecoromy Was All Right in Its Way, but She Had No Chance to Practice It. From the Chteago Po This particular family jar was labeled “Economy,” and every one knows that that is the very worst kind. It came when she asked for some money to buy a new gown. That is when they usually come, and the strange feature of it all is that a man who Is most particular in all matters relating to the subject of modesty in women will roar like an angry bull at the mere suggestion of spending money for her clothes. He seems to think that a woman can go out and find such things growing on trees, as Eve did, for- getful of the fact that he would be the first to find fault with the costume. If you don't believe it, ask any woman who Is married. “I should think,” he said in this instance, “that one gown a month ought to be aS for the wife of a man in my posi- tion.” “It would be too much,” she replied cold- ly. “I haven't had one in nearly six months.”* He was about to dispute her assertion, but, after a rapid mental calculation, he decided that perhaps it was not advisable. “It costs a small fortune to run this house,” he asserted, intent upon making it interesting for her in some way. “You pay the bill she said, “and do most of the ordering. He winced a little, but returned to the attack. “The trouble is,” he said, ‘‘that you don’t know the value of money.’' “Do you know why?” she asked, with a suddenness that startled him. “Why—why—what—” “Do you know why?” again. “Now, Mrs. Marblehead,” he said, recov- ering his self-possession, “I don’t want any of she demanded “Do you know why?" she repeated, refus- ing to be turned from the original question. “This foolishness must end,” he exclaim- ed. “I—" “Do you know why I don’t know the value of money?” she persisted, at the same time opening her purse and taking out a solitary quarter and toying with it suggestively. In another minute she was alone. He had retired vanquished, and instde of twenty- four hours he had suggested that it would be better all round if he made her a regu- lar allowance for household and personal expenses, which was what she had been trying to convince him for two or three years, A Crow’s Joke. From Meehan's Bfonthly. Whether or not arimals have a sense of humor is a difficult question to answer, considering that no one can well interpret the actions or expressions of these crea- tures; yet there are occasionally incidents which seem to indicate that they are cap- able of having humorous sensations. The writer of this paragraph once lived in the vicinity of a person who was fond of tak- ing and bringing up young crows. It was the custom to place a baajn of water, ev- ery morning, in the yard, for the young creatures to bathe in. There was usually @ trouble between them as to who should have the first chance at the bath. On one occasion one succeeded in obtaining the coveted privilege. As soon, however, as he had finished his ablutions, he quietly Jjump- ed out of the basin, took the edge of the basin in his beak and then tilted it over, throwing out all the water. Then he walk- ed away with an air of triumph. It was certainly his object to play a joke on his less fortunate fellow crows. More recent- ly a pair of fowls were noticed in the highway. As is well known, the cock birds eften call the hens for a choice piece of food—it may be a worm or something else. On this occasion the hen was a long i: tance away. The cock took a small peb- ble in his mouth, and then gave a cluck to the hen to come and get it. The hen rushed vigorously toward her lord and master, who then quietly dropped the pebble and strutted away. The hen came to look for what she supposed was a delicious morsel, but could find nothing among the pebbles, where she supposed something good was in reserve for her. The glitering eye of the male bird surely indicated that he thought he was practicing a huge joke on his life partner. It was evident, however, that she could not see the joke; and there is no doubt but that a curtain lecture was await- ing him when his lordship returned. ——_r-____. Rubbh.. It In, From the Philadelphia North American, “You don’t even dreas me decently,” she cried. m going home to papa.” “All right,” replied Doolits; “you might say to him also that I need a new suit my- eelf.” The steam in the boilers was 233.5 THAT INSINUATING OMELET tt FREDERIK €4LMER (Copyright, 1897, by the’ Bacfeter Syrdicate.) Written fer The Evening! Star. a Prof. Hilsdrup tugged at the bell rope for the second time, and Bla: more savagely than ever at the beautiful thing in crispy brown and yellcw lying between two sprigs of parsley. Such a ffown’when aimed at such an omelet was rthy of any fair- minded man. All of Mrs. Hodgson’s ome- lets were wcnderful, and this was one of her best. It looked so light as to enjoin haste in eating it lest a draught should take it out of the open window Into the garden as easily as if it were a thistle blow; so appetizing as to pardon before- hand the breach of good manners in cry- ing aloud for another as soon as one had fimished it. But the professor regarded it as an enemy which had treacherously stolen into his presence with murderous in- tent. Aggravation had followed aggrava- tion ever since he began the day an hour ago with the headache, which promised a bilious attack in the near future. ‘When he had taken Mra. Hodgson’s draw- ing room floor, with a sitting room looking out on a delightful little garden and the bare walls of the British Museum some three months before, just as the winter was breaking, and settled down to work on his “Isaac Newton and His Compeers, such an omelet had come up in the com- pany of a well-loaded fruit stand for his first breakfast. As he pushed his chair back from the plate with only a faint trace of yellow left on it he determined to have that omelet’s counterpart every morning. He had it and enjoyed it with the leisurely taste that enriches life for a man of fifty- four, until a friend who introduced him to mutton pie luncheons in the British Mu- seum restaurant assured him that eggs in any form whatever were the making of billousness. In truth, between mutton pies and hard work, the professor's stomach was quite out of order. He imagined it to be worse than it was, thus making it worse than it otherwise would have been, and blamed all to the omelet. To send up an omelet after he had ordered a mutton chop ap- pealed to him on this particular morning as down-right mutiny. Mrs. Hodgson was getting him altogether too much in her power, he thought. He tugged at the bell and scowled, and determined to have an “understanding” at once. “Good morning, professor,” said Mrs. Hodgson herself, as she entered. “Don’t you know,” growled the professor, “that I am of a bilious temperament and omelets are not good for me?” “On2 of my omelets?” she asked doubt- fully. She had never seen the professor in such a mood before. “All omelets are alike, madam!” “Mine are no better than anybody's els she gesped. “Medam,” continued the professor in a cold, hard voice, “I told Harriet last night that I most especially wanted a mutton chop for breakfa: hen—I ate it ou ate it?” “Yes—I didn’t know. Harriet didn’t say anything to me about It. I supposed you would have an omelet, as you always have ad. “Always! Always for three months! It's @ wonder that I have anything in my body except a liver!’ He tried ‘to annthilate the omelet with one glance and Mrs. Hodgson with another. “When I saw only one chop in the larder,” said Mrs. Hodgson, her natural snap and dignity returning, “I supposed it was for me, of course, as I usually have a mutton chop for breakfast.” ¢ “Ah! You don’t eat. your own omelets!” “You dcn’t eat yout own manuscripts!" she replied with asperity. “If you will wait only a few minutes.‘ I will send out for a chop,” she added mote pleasantly. “No,” said the professor,'sitting down at the table with the ait of a'martyr. “No. I am a busy man, Mrs: Hodgson. I will eat this now that it is here. And Mrs. Hodg- son, I wish you would not interfere with the papers on my desk ‘@&y more. Don't touch my desk! Arrange ‘nothing! Thiow away anything you find on! the floor!’" “But, sir, ‘you showed tne how to fix them when you first tame, and you sald I aid it so nicely and saved you a lot of trouble.” This was too much. The professor felt that his dignity was at stake. “Mrs. Hodgson,” he thundered, “I shall leave when my week is up!" She tossed her head and said, “Very well!” with aggravating sweetness. The professor settled down to his breakfast, muttering something about “impudent wo- men.” Once out in the hall, Mrs. Hodg- son stamped her foot and exclaimed, “The old fool!” That omelet tasted uncommonly well, as if to tantalize him. He ate it ail, even to the last fragment, which tantalized him still further. Then he went over to his desk to write. His pen, his paper, his note- book, were where Mrs. Hodgson had placed them, which was just where they ought to be. This also was most tantalizing. Yet, a few minutes later, he found himself carry- ing his overcoat downstairs on his arm as usual, and harboring a faint notion that he ought to forgive Mrs. Hodgson. She was pruning the flowers on the stand in the hall, and Harriet was near her receiving some order. “Mrs, Hodgson, would you—ah’’—he asked politely. “Harriet,” sald Mrs. Hodgson, as she con- tinued to snip off dead leaves, “help the gentleman on with his overcoat.” As he went out, the professor slammed the door so hard as fairly to make the flower pots tremble, but Mrs. Hodgson only smiled. She had recovered her dignity and her faith in her art, despite sour criticism. ‘The professor determined never to forgive her now. To prove it he ate voraciously of the museum mutton pie for luncheon. The result was indigestion, which he attributed to the omelet. He was rudely awakened next morning by Harriet, who was sweeping and dusting in his sitting room. Heretofore Mrs. Hodg- son had made ft a point to attend to this herself, doing it so quietly that the pro- fessor was never disturbed. However, he had his chop for breakfast, and everything else, even to the overcoat lying on the chair where he had thrown it the night before, was as he had requested. After ransacking the drawers of his desk and pawing over the disordered papers on top of {t in a vain search for his notebook, which contained the fruits of three months’ researches, he was anything but reassured by a hazy recollection of having nodded over the notebook on the previous evening and having carelessly laid it on the chair at his side. This had happened before, but he had always found the notebook on his desk in the morning. “Did you see a book. on the floor?’ he crled to Harriet, when she had answered the fierce ringing of the bell. “You—you said anything on the floor—” “Find it! Find it!” he thundered. ‘Don't dare to come back without it!” Poor Harriet's face burned as she went down stairs, for she knew,if the professor didn’t, that the refuse wagon had called some fifteen minutes ‘ago! The professor paced up and down, with anger in his heart against Mrs. Hodgso# and her omelets, until there was a soft-kiidck at the door, which he recognized>s ‘Mrs. Hodgson’s. He presumed she had !eométo apologize for what she would doubfiess call “an unfor- tunate accident.” He would let her know in plain terms that ter’s.“was the worst- conducted house in Losdon? “Come in!” he roared. “Your book, prof .” dhe said, holding it out to him. “Though Harriet had found it on the floor, I picked it'out of the rub- bish, thinking I could do no harm, any- wan? Ra “Er—ah! Thank peak “And I have let inet cond for Saturday,” she went on in a volte wiich he thought was assumed to annoy hiti. “Rr—ah! Very wellf His friend observed! that the museum mutton ple on that Gay was especially The professor ate heartily of it, but was soon feeling so bad that he ccn- cluded to devote the remainder of the afte®oon to searching for rooms, After climbing the stairs of seven different houses he began to speculate upon how in the world landladies were able to let such miserable. ill-kept apartments to anybody. At one place, in a moment of absent-mind- edneas, he actually if the cook could make ts. ‘hen the Jandiady said ‘‘Perfectly lovely omelets!” he told her abruptly that he wouldn’t think of roakin; to be spoken of lightly, when he remembered that this was the very ex- queens Mrs. Hodgson had once used. He fgain, Weary and cron, he Teturned. to cross, his rooms. In the morning. noisy Harriet robbed him of his sleep, and he went into his sitting room to face a chop and a disor dered “Shall we our customary mutton ple?” the tempter asked him at 2 o'clock. aa have an engagement today,” was ‘The engagement turned out to be in a Uttle restaurant on Great Russell street, the slightest individuality, one Sraes a on the Placed ore “Don't you know,” he exclaimed fretfully to the waitress, “that an omelet is a work of art not to be—" here he stopped abruptly. “But I will eat—the thing,” he added. On Saturday morning, when he went out to his chop and disordered desk, two strange trunks in the corner of the sitting room reminded him that he had noi yet en- gaged another lodging. Mrs. Hodgson came in.. She hoped that his luggage was packed, as the other gentleman was coming in an heur. The professor did not reply. Twice he lifted up his cup of tea and sei it down without drinking. “Then I may take ft that you are ready?" she asked. “No. As a matter of fact, F've been so busy that I haven't had time to look about much for a place. If you have a smalit room that I could have only for a week it would—" he spoke with great reserve—“be in the nature—ah—of an accommodation. It happened by mere chance, as Mrs. Hodgson was careful to explain, that this was possible. Harriet was sent to help him carry up his belongings. When the wreck- age left by the wayside had been collected, and everything he possessed was piled helter skelter in the little room on the third floor, the professor concluded that he would make no attempt to put things to rights for so short a stay. He heard a cab draw up in front of the house. The new lodger must have come. Prompted by a curiosity possibly inconsistent with the dignity of the author of “Isaac Newton and His Com- peers,” he went to the window. He step- ped back in surprise. None other than his mutton-ple friend was to be his successor in the drawing room floor. His misery was increased the following morning when he saw Harriet taking one of Mrs. Hodgson's works of art in to the one who had sworn that omelets were the enemies of mankind. He now fairly hated chops and conde- ascended to ask Harriet for an omelet for tomorrow's breakfast. She brought him one—of her own making. He was on the point of telling her of something that was rot to be spoken of lightly. But he sighed instead. A work of art was not to be ex- pected from such as Harriet. He did not go to the museum and Strategically contrived to avoid a meeting with the base interloper all of the week. Once he had to wait at the head of the stairway while he saw Mrs. Hodgson help the interloper on with his overcoat—con- vincing proof that a man who ate mutton pies would stop at nothing. Though he be- came the terror of the landladies of Bloomsbury, Saturday found him with strange trunks in his disordered little room and still with no apartment engaged. It also found him meek as well as miserable. He went down stairs and knocked on the door of Mrs. Hodgson’s little room on the ground floor. There was no answer. Har- riet came up from the kitchen to say that Missus was making the other gentleman's omelet. But she was authorized to open the door and to offer him a chair. He waited in vexation, longing for re- venge, longing to show up the mutton pie interloper, who secretly adored omelets, in his true cclors. Finally Mrs. Hodgson en- tered, flushed with the successful outcome of a work of art. “Really, Mrs. Hodgson,’ said the pro- fessor, affably, “I have been so busy, and to get a room requires a deal of looking about, doesn’t it?" She did not say whether it did or not. “If it would not be too much trouble—would you accommodate me again?” “TI haven't a room left.” “[’m—I'm sorry!” “There are the hotels, Professor.” “Mrs. Hodgson—Mrs. Hodgson,” he burst out, tragically, “will you not go on making omelets for me forever?” After a little blushing and parrying she said that she would, and put the seal on her acceptance by immediately giving the hase interloper a week's notice. ee UP IN A BALLOON. other, was The Aeronaut Tells a Story Out of His Experience the Profession. From the New York Sun. Something or other suggested the sub- ject, and the tall man who sat at the hotel tabls where he couldn't see the man oppo- site owing to the caster which stood be- tween, stuck his fork into a potato and be- gan talking. “I suppose,” he said, “that when Elijah went to heaven in a hand basket he liked it and it was all right, but as for me, I'd rather go by land.” The man at the foot of the table looked up questioningly. “By the graveyard, of course, I mean,” hastily explained the talker. “You see, this aerial navigation business ain’t any good after you've had a ‘rassle’ with it that pulls all of a man’s nerves out by the roots, twists them around a stump and then be- gins to yank and saw on them. Y‘under- stand what I mean? I used to be an aero- naut, I did. I guess I must have made a thousand ascensions. Out in my state for a lcng time no county fair was complete without me, and I got the topography of the state down’so fine from my bird's-eye view of it that 1 could draw a map of the whole layout with my eyes shut. Great thing it was to be sailing through the air in them days, and I thought I never would get enough of it, until one fine afternoon a rope broke in a ticklish place, and it gave me a kind of nervous fit, just as it does a railroad engineer when he has an accident and isn’t hurt that anybody 2an see. Just the same, he is hurt, and so was I, but I kept on; so does the engineer. “After that, though, I didn’t go up feel- ing quite as sassy as I used to feel; end sometimes as I would go shooting upward I'd wonder how hard the ground was in case a man hac to light sudden. I always done a trapeze act in connection with my performance, and, if I do say it myself, it wasn’t any slouch of a trapeze show. And I didn’t like that half as well after the rope broke as I did before, either. Indeed, I begun to think the whole dern balloon Lus- iness wasn’t what it was cracked up to be. I was thinking about tying a rope around my waist, so as to catch hold of things if I fell, but I didn’t like to do that, though there was about a hundred feet of rope I had hung out as an anchor, or grab, with a hook on the end to help me to land when the show was over. “The day I retired from business there was a state fair going on that week, and I went up every day. It was a fine day, with just enough wind to move the balloon along majestic, as the papers said, and when I shot up I was so nervous that I actually said my prayers as I saw the ground drop- ping away under me. But I took a brace on myself and begun my trapeze act, the balloon going up faster than I ever felt it. By this time I was up half a mile, and my turn was to swing with my knees around the bar, which looked mighty dangerous, but it really wasn’t any worse than if I had been in a theater without a net. Well, I give myself the swing, and I never did know why, but I lost my grip, and with a swish I felt myself fly out into space. The Lord knows what 1 thought about, but it wasn’t for long, for I didn’t know any more until I came to in the room at the hotel where I was stopping.” “Come off,” interrupted the man at the foot of the table. “You can’t tell this crowd you fell half a mile and didn’t get killed. You are a plain, unvarnished lar, tha! what you are.”” “You're another if you say I said I fell half a mile,” responded the retired aero- naut, and it looked as if there might be a scrap. “What I did do,” he continued, when peace was restored, “was to strike that anchor line within ten feet of the end of it as it trailed under me, and by some act of a merciful Providence the anchor flew around my body and caught the rope above, thus. looping me in. There I hung until the balloon came down, and as everyboiy be- low saw the accident you may imagine that I had a big reception when I landed, thovgh 1 didn’t know anything about it. I did know, though, that I couldn't tempt Prov- Hence twice, and so I quit and went to editing a country newspaper, which is more Ungering than falling out of a batloon.” —____+«+____ Slow Literary Production. From the Chicago Times-Herald. “I suppose you'll hardly believe it,” said the cclonel, who is writing the Mbretto of a comic opera, “but I began work right after dinner last night and worked hard till 3 o'clock this mornirf& on eight lines— Just clght Iines.” SE “That's noSting,” calmly remarked major. “A friend of mine has been work- ing for the last six years on one sentence.” THE EVENING - sees STAR. ... ALMANAC. | A wealth of facts re- garding the local govern- ment, statistics on the District’s educa- tional, financial, chari- table and commercial institutions, etc., all find ex- tended space in this handy, little volume. mi The most valuable Handbook obtainable the office library. It covers every subject briefly and intelligently, Chap- ter after chapter of needed information, found nowhere else, makes it doubly attractive. for and Cents a Copy. For sale at the counting room of the Evening Star and by all newsdealers. JOKES AT COURT. There Were Some rry Men About King George’s Throne. From the London Standard. A practical joke may be defined as one in which merriment is produced or sought, not by words, but by action, practiced upon a fellew creature—commonly an offensive or annoying action. Even if harmless, it holds up the sufferer to ridicule, and intel- ligent human beings Go not need to be told that such conduct is reprehensible. But if the joke be well contrived, sufficiently humorous in idea and neatly executed, we do not care so much as .we should if it fall under the “practical” class. Who would not have liked to be present at the royal masquerade when Heidegger, master of the revels to George II, was confronted hy his double? The Duke of Montagu had ob- tained a cast of the great man’s face. From this he caused a wax mask to be fashioned and colored. Heidegger's tailor supplied a facsimile of the new and gor- geous dress he was to wear, and the duke engaged an actor to piay the pari. He told e band, at the last moment to strike up “Charley Over the Water” at his majesty’s appearance instead of “God Save the King.” They hesitated. But it was indubit- ably Heidegger—features, voice, clothes and also imprecations when the conductor Gemurred. So the king heard that treascn- able air, perhaps for the first time, cn en- tering. We can faintly imagine the tumult. Heidegger rushed to the band, struck the conductor, set him playing “God Save the King,” and rushed back to apologize. Next moment he returned to the orchestra, equally furious—that is, his double returned —ordering the band to resume “Charley Over the Water,” and the bewildered musi- cians obeyed. There was never such a scene in the presence of royalty. The offi- cers of the guards in attendance made a dash at the band with swords, but those In the secret blocked the way. Heidegger, dancing round the king, made inarticulate protestations and excuses, while his majes- ty stormed and threatened, making for the door. The situation became perilous. So the counterfeit stepped forward, crying, with passionable indignation, “Sire, the devil has taken my likeness to undo me. Look at him!" Heidegger saw his double, gasped, gibvered and fell senseless. One inay think that longer and more compli- cated “business” might have been devel- oped from such an ingenious hoax; but for a dramatic situation of its class this could not be beaten. In some parts of South America good folks store all the glass and crockery broken ia the twelvemonth and at carnival time put it into a sack attached to the lofty balcony by a stout cord, not quite long enough to reach the ground. When a de- sirable victim passes beneath the sack is quietly let go—to be arrested with a nideous crash upon his very heels. It is credibly reported that foreigners unprepared for this jest have tumbled headlong sat the shcck and others have taken to their beds with an attack of fever. These ere rare triumphs. No time or place is sacred to the en- thusiastic joker. Duclos tells in his me- moirs how the Prince Archbishop of Co- logne asked license to preach In the royal chapel at Versailles when visiting Louis XIV himself. All the court assembled. It was April 1. The prince archbishop mount- ed the pulpit in stately fashion, bowed from side to side and stood a moment as if collecting his thoughts, then shouted “April fools!” picked up his skirts and ran. At the Sistine Chapel on Good Friday each worshipper received a small whip on entering. Three candles only burnt on the altar. When the first was extinguished every one threw off his coat; the next his waistcoat; the third was a signal to flog himself in pitch darkness. Sir Francis Dashwood, afterward chancellor of the ex- chequer, founder of the Dilettanti Club and a personage whose name dwells in history, was visiting Rome. He provided himself with a stout riding whip and got admit- tance to the Sistine. When the flogging be- gan instead of titilating his own shoulders delicately he slashed his neighbors, right and left, with British whipcord, conscien- tiously laid on. The scene is not yet for- gotten in Rome. Dashwood had made his arrangements to escape. Horses and serv- ants stood ready in a by street; he mounted and rode for his life, but some of his fol- lowers were captured, tried for sacrilege and sent to the galleys, if we remember right. It may be hoped that when the reck- less youth became a power in Europe he did not forget those poor fellows. ——_+-o+_____ A SHREWD DEVICE. There Was a Time When Banking in Arkansas Was Rather Exciting. From the Detroit Free Press. z Banking in the northern part of Arkansas was a hazardous business in the early days, and in some of the towns,where there are no railway connections, ft is so still. “When we bcrrowed money for our bank,” said a banker to a representative of the Free Press with whom he was talking over old times, “I used to go to the neighboring town and get the gold. Then I had to carry it by stage over the mountains to our place. Of course, I took mighty good care that no one should know, if I could a bag of flour, poured out a portion of the contents and put the bag of gold well into the center of the bag of flour. “The stage rattled off and I used my bag of flour for a pillow. I dozed off a bit. I guess, and was rudely awakened by the horses being Jerked up. The next moment we—there were two other passengers—heard that dreaded: “ “Hands up! ‘We didn’t hesitate and up went our arms They went through us all and got several dollars and a couple of watches. Then they examined the grips and looked” at the bag. I trembled as they opened it and the flour poured out. To my joy they did not examine my bag further. Finally they departed, and I tied up my bag with feelings of profound gratitude, for had they taken the gold I would have been financial- ly ruined. “ "You've lost some of your flour, mister,’ said one of the passengers. “ Yes, I said, ‘but they left the most val- ble flour in +4 ‘And truly they left $15,000 in coin. That was the nearest I came to going under in the early banking days. But for my un- accountable nervousness, caused by premo- nition, or whatever you may call it, which led to the little device of the flour bag, the robbers would have reaped an unexpected harvest.” ——_+e+ NOT THAT MELANCHOLY! Patient Spirit of Job Wounded by a Brooklyn Preacher. From the New York Herald. Job sat in a secluded corner, with his head in his hands, and his halo was Sadly awry. “It seems to me,” sald a fellow angel, “that for a person so pleasantly situated you are sadly in the dumps. What's hap- pened to you?” “I'm trying not to be rebellious,” remark- ed the venerable and safntly sufferer. “I have about run the gamut of afflictions, but I draw the line on this.” And he held forth in his wrinkled palm a newspeper clipping which announced that a Brooklyn preacher had compared him to Hamlet. Sa sy Ss Why Men Don’t Go to Church. From the New York Times. A correspondent of the Hartford Times, in referring to the season for the non- attendance at religious services in that city —which a well-informed statistician puts at 22,000 in a total population of 5%,000— says the chief cause ts the inability of the poor to dress suitably for a visit to the churches. There seems to be very much of truth fn this, and pastors of churches in this city and Brooklyn alike have all too frequently heard the same reason advanced by persons whom they have visited and invited to their services. A well-dressed person whose purse strings are loosely drawn finds himself most cordially wei- comed and escorted to a front seat in the edifice. But to the man or woman who seeks a church home wearing clothing that is not of the latest cut, there ts too apt to be a cold shoulder turned by the ushers and looks of contempt from fashionably dressed fellow-worshipers. This is a con- dition that exists not only in the “fashion- able” sanctuaries, but in those where so- cial distinctions are not supposed to be made so much 0! Ministers and rectors may try faithfully and earnestly to break down barriers, but they can make little, any, headway in the work, and all knowledge their inability to re-create any of the old feeling of fellowship that once drew strangers in cities to church congre- gations, not only to enable them to find congenial acquaintances, but communistic worship according to the faith in which | they have been brought up in their homes. It is the clannishness of church-goers against the man not stylishly dressed and the woman who does not flaunt sealskins and diamonds that prevents the success of any evangelistic movement in great cities, and that thus drives chousands into the arid plains of an irreligious life. Homing Pigeons in Medical Practice. From the Medical Record. “A good horse is never of a bad color,” so with the homer there is no standard for size, color or shape; still, it happens that there ts a pretty well-recognized type be- longing to the best birds. They are of a composite breed, having received blood from several different sources—the “Cu- mulet,” a pearl-eyed pigeon of the tumbler species, Inclined to fly very high and long; the “Smerl,” a round-headed small bird, somewhat like an owl pigeon, ed for its swift flight, and the “Dragoon,” a strong, being the most prominent the it day his endeavor to reac! our benefit. The young birds should not be trained till the age of four months, when they may be taken on successive days a mile or two from home in different directions; the distances may be increased in’