Evening Star Newspaper, March 20, 1897, Page 14

14 THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MARCH 20, 1897-24 PAGES. ning ers and clock repairers are superstitious,” remarked a | who does consider- | { | kk man, in selling, > clocks reporter, putting up and in the departments, “and, strange as it there is something besides ut it. It is well enough fo Friday, or any other day for but it is big chances against setting up a new clock on Friday. Some go I put up a new clock in nate, and did y until the day me to me that it would .ck Was a new one and a me. Then it came to me that on the wall on a Friday. I had any ar of tinkering with that clock before 1 get it to keep anything like correct time. I had a similar experience with a clock in the Indfan bureau. Since then | put up a clock in the War Depart- ment, and by the same kind of a chance it heppened that I hung it on Friday. The ; following morning I was officially informed that, although the clock came from the factory guaranteed, it was at a stand-still. I knew instantly what was the matter with it. It had the Friday ‘hoodoo’ on it. I knew | the clock was all right, but it would not | go until I tock it down from the wall and rehung Then it worked like a charm, and, if needs be, the time ball can he drop- | ped by it. I verily believe that taking it | down from the wall and rehanging it was the only cure for it. In England, where I came from, no clock man would for a 120- ment think that any of the public clocks in the railroad stations, public buildings, | houses of or in any of the if started for the first time would keep correct time. Th would not dare to risk it with an expensiv jock. I find the same well-grounded super- stitfon here. if you choose to call it such, nong the In one of the most mous cath ngland a tower clock, which « a fortune, had to be taken dow he tower, be- t himself as jay. It ~ rted on F an expen: 3 but there was no other way out of it, for the clock would not run | until the Friday heodoo was removed. ex * “The decorations during the inaugura- ery fine.” observed Capt. Dig- te, War and Navy Depart- w hman service to a Star one was giad to see Idin ‘and eport every ‘old glory’ prevailed to such a large | extent, for, after all, there is no decoration | so pleasing to the average American as that which is produced by the aid of the flag. Nothing seems to be so appropriaic, and, as was noticed no doubt by every one, the flag was used on the | Navy Department building. inintentional, no doubt, I noticed rror in the use of the gs, in that in the ar- | decorations old | highest point. Though flags and the rangem glory was net flown a: of the where I was t is as sacred as any law, y be unwritten, that nothing shall be American flag—all d@ decorations must American flag. the peak. Thu: hotels a for- was a Cuban flag. or ten feet higher the American flag some other foreign flag nce in the matter of | r thing occurred on one of houses on Pennsy! the error was it was, all the uid not be allowed part of Europ at Britain am: articular over | than we are, and any flag which w: nelr own. We are not but we ought to be. We ; a our ships by flying | times in certain ports, rer saw any foreign flag high- mast on y American ship flag. The post of honor, . is their height, and ur ces our flag should be t point.” eee * y few know it, but it is a fact,” ex- Dlained a prominent builder to a Star re- | perter, “that the pension office building is | largest brick building in the world. It | seen Subjected to much criticism, but for as time passes along | «re are many things seen about it that | aped notice when it was newer. In all, | there are over ten million bricks in the ding. Metgs took Iberties with bricks that no other architect had ever at- He x used bricks exclu- but he used them the er of stair building, en used for the riser, y of tron, wood, In the pension office both step are of brick. As a brick . pure and simple, it ts jon, outside of the fact exclusively brick © ng. acting the stairs throughout In the * «. id a Treasury Depart- nd it both amuses and in- | pice how the lunchers get tt -eating man | but I noticed | bought three | pie, and then conglomerated mass He repeated the Mowing day, and I am custom. There 1s iy two pieces of pic takes bites out of re is another one, a # to mustard on his who puts a spoonful in his | » carries off the palm | week is concerned, at least } } to take | y lu he has always bee ¥ in evidence, k who nds of fellow tht sitte: em up into ured t wee! = of t I'l continue out such a tone.” ee OK * whica n past years, has bureau of the In- n nteered an In- t official to a Star report- y beginning to see its end, and le many more years before its mplished. Origi- was a branch of the business grew to is that it was given jor Department. The nd has been dis- d out to pre-emptors, other settlers, many of their lands. Th were aided by s on of their al of undisposed of jor Departme S alrea have been ac !me last Monday t land, however, and raises but two crops per year, one of sage brush and the other an equally valueless crop of snow.” x * * * There are many curious things in- the ter of education and particularly in al studies of the languages,” said one the rrofessors of the Catholic Univer- y, to a Star reporter, “but one of the most curious that now occurs to my mind is that cne of ur best informed masters of the Gaelic or Irish language was forced to pursue his studies of the Gaelic in an university in Berlin. Strange ce you will say for one to study the Irish lan- guage, and yet it is a fact. The Gaelic is ene of the rarest of languages, and stu- dents of it meet with obstacles at aimost every point, simply for the reason that it has always been the desire of England to let the Irish language pass into oblivion. in none of the greai universities of Eng- land can it be learned, for the reason that it is not taught. At the Catholic Univer- sity a Gaelic chair has been handsomely endowed, and i: may come to pass in the future the students of the world will have to come here to study the Gaelic.” ** *£ * * “The ctvil service commission has re- cently had the question of man and wife in the departments under consideration,” | suggested a gentleman who is connected with that commission to a Star reporter. “Though I don't speak by any authority, I am convinced that when the commission is reorganized some more definite rule of action will be taken. There are still a number of male clerks in the departments whose wives are also clerks. I admit that this does not occur as often as it did some years ago, for the rules of the civil service commission have reduced it very consider- ably, but there are enough well-known cases to cause the subject to be agitated. In most cases the wife is in a different department from the husband, but in some instarces man and wife are in the same department. The Secretary of the Treas- ury is a firm believer in clvil service, but he has indicated that he will look’ into the matter of man and wife question as far as his department is concerned as soon as the rush caused by the change of ad- ministration is over.” eee KE “A medical writer once insisted that the bath had killed more people in this country than did the bullets of wars, and while I would hardly like to go as far as that,” answered a prominent physician to the question of a Star reporter, “I am not as strong an advoeate of baths as some phy- sicians are. It 1s all very nice to talk about the hygiente advantages and value of baths, but there is no denying that tut baths are very weakening to some consti- tutions and especially dangerous to others. “The ordinary man or woman is not strong enough to indulge as frequently as scme do in tub baths. I noticed in the newspapers during the training of Corbett ard Fitzsimmons that though they took daily baths in the early part of their prep- aration for their contest they indulged only in shower baths. They found that scaking themselves in a tub did them more harm than good. They are, however, not the first prize fighters to discover this, for Sullivan, Mitchell and a host of others ex- perienced the same thing. A tub bath is | necessary if a person has become dirty and | wants to wash themselves, but all the tenic and exhilarating effects of a bath are best secured by a shower or sponge bath. My judgment fs that a sponge ba* is much more beneficial than a bath in any other form. I am equally confident that tub baths, if frequently indulged in, do mere hatm tkan good. The makers of bath tubs seem to realize this also, for there are very few bath tubs made any mere which are long enough for a full- grown man or woman to soak their entire hedy at the same time. Probably it is the old-fashioned bath tub which caused the remark quoted abcve. To parents I can- not refrain from saying that it is not fair | or humane to insist on soaking children in | a bath tub, when they would not dare to scak themselves as often as they insist on deluging their children. In warm weather baths are refreshing to children as well as | grown persons, but In other seasons of the year it is much safer to avold very fre- quent bathing, excep light sponge baths. be overdone. en the latter can x kK Ke “Sundown ministers, by which I mean preachers who are engaged in departmental or other work during the daytime and who preach evenings and days when on leave of absence,” explained a gentleman who attended a recent conference in Baltimore, et but little or no consideration in our religious conferences any more, and while eachers do not Ike to talk out at meet- they have no hesitancy in speaking plainly in private conversation. Ministers have an honorable profession. They spend years preparing themselves for their du- ties, have no other occupations or employ- ment, and seek no other. There is but lit- tle money in the ministry, after all, for though a few gifted or fortunate men draw financial prizes by It, the great body of them do not receive the wages received by the average mechanic in the large cities. It is not strange, therefore, that they should not like sundowners. They have no | jealousy toward workers in the vineyard who feel they can give their talents to the good work What they object to is that persons should compete with them when they have other engagements until after sundown. As a minister at the conference said to me, the sundown preacher is neither fish, flesh, fowl, nor even good red her- ring.” eK eH “One of the most curious experiences 1 have met with in a long time happened to “’ said a young bank offi- cial to a Star reporter yesterday. “I was standing at my desk during business hours when a woman came up and asked me if I was a notary public. She was rather a nice-looking woman, in the neighborhood of forty, I should think, the sort of wo. man that one ordinarily describes as moth- erly. When she was told that I was quall- fied to administer oaths she informed me that she wanted to swear off drinking whisky for a year. Her request neariy took Iny breath away, for she was not a woman one would pick out as a hard drinker, but she told me that she was al- together too fond of whisky, and found she was drinking it to excess. Her rela- tives and frierds- were anxious that she should swear off, and she had finally agreed to do so. When I drew up the | paper for her I included all other forms of intoxleating Nquor. She objected to that at first, but i urged her to do the thing ap right while she was about it, and she ended up by doing so. Then she paid me my legal fee and walked out, but when she opened her purse I noticed that it was Just full of money, and the whole occur- rence puzzled me not a little.” © > If you want anything, try an ad. In The Star. If anybody has what you wish, you will get an answer. ONE CHICAGO PECULIARITY. What the Unsuspecting May Find in the Windy City. The post office inspector, just returned from a trip through the witching and wondrous west, was talking to a group of Usteners, including a Star reporter, with a fluency that was as felicitous as it was fecund. During seventy-five or eighty min- utes of colloquial overflow he had com- municated several startling facts and fancies, and at the last had come down to something specific. “However, of all the strange things I saw when I had no gun,” he said, “was a lady I met in Chicago. “Would you have shot her?’ gasped the horrified reporter. E laughed the inspector, “she as you will learn when you have heard about it. It was this way: Four years ago I was there, and during it, which lasted two months, I met a very nice man and his wife and son, a boy of ten or twelve, at the boarding house where I stayed. The man's name was Brownley, and I came to know the family quite well, though I can’t say that they were the most congenial husband and wife I ever saw. Toward the last this uncon- genlality grew, because Brownley got to drinking to excess. “When I came away I parted with them with regret, for they had made my stay pleasanter, and I hoped that I should séc them again. Brownley was effusive, and hoped we should’ meet again, but Mrs. B. was quite formal for some reason, and didn't seem to care a continental whether she ever saw me again or not. “Last January, when I got back there for the first time, I went to the old board- ing house in the hope that I might find things somewhat as they were before, and I wanted to see the Brownleys, from whom I had heard nothing. But the house was torn down, and a block occupied the site, and I found quarters elsewhere. None of the old people were to be found, so I gave it all up and made a new start. After I had been there a week I was walking along State street one day when I met Mrs. Brownley face to face, and without a sec- ond thought I rushed up in great shape and wanted to shake hands. But she wouldn't have it, and wouldn't know me, and said I was mistaken and that she was not Mrs. Brownley, but was Mrs. Nottron, or some name that sounded like that, and. of course, I could only apologize and get out of the way, which I did, but not at all convinced. On the contrary I became curious and began to make inquiries, “The next day I caught a glimpse of Brownley, himself, in a crowd, but lost him, and when I ran across him again that evening in a saloon he was so drunk that he was incoherent and could*only tell me that his family was well and he hoped I'd call and see them. He didn’t remember his street number, and the information I got from him was of no great value, except to make me Wonder if his wife had a twin sister whom I had never heard of. “Several days later I happened to see my lady of mystery at the stamp window in the post office, and a little judicious inquiry developed the fact that she was one Mrs. H. J. Nottern, which was as near the name as I might be expected to know it from having heard it once on the street. Then I kicked myself for being such an egre- gious {diot, and hoped that if I had the luck to find Brownley again he would be sober enough to know where he lived. “Three or four days later I met the hoy, Fred, in a big dry goods store, and the youngster knew me at once, for we had been “boys together’ four years before, and Fred was a fine lad. He told me his mother was to meet him there, and ip a few min- utes she came in, and I would have sworn it was the other woman, but she shook hands with me very pleasantly and was glad to see me, and gave me her number and told me to call and all that. She had sent the boy on an errand to another part of the store while she talked, and when he came back, they went away together immediately. Of course, I told her about her double I had discovered, and she laugh- ed and said she hoped she would see her some time and all that, as women do, you know.” “I was called to Springfield that same af- ternoon and was away a week, and the first person I saw to know when I got back was Mrs. Brownley, and she was accom- panted by a man whom I did not know. I Was not to be fooled again, however, so I did not speak, but waited for her to, and she went by me as if she had neve: me before in her life. Then I thought this must be the other one, so I spotted the man, and made up my mind to tackle him if I ever had a chance. That evening I went to call on the Brownleys at the num- ber given to me by Mrs. B. It was a board- ing house, and no such person as Brownley lived there. The landlady was out, and the servant was stupid and ignorant, and [ left without making any further inquiry, though I left my card and said I wouid return. “Before I made my second call, though, I met Fred on the street and with him the man I had spotted with Mrs. Nottern a few days before. Fred was glad to see me, as he always was, and in his boyish, effusive way introduced me to the man with him as Mr. Nottern, who was his new papa, his mother having married him three years before and within a year after getting her divorce from Browniey. “The explanation was so simple and easy j now that I lost interest, and making a fair guess at Mrs. Nottern’s feelings in the mat- ter from her various little ruses when meeting me previcusly, I made it conve: jent to be so busy during the rest of my stay in Chicago that it was utterly impos- sible to accept the invitations of Fred and his stepfather—would he be a stepfather under those circumstances?—to call on them. “I left there without having met Mrs. N. again, and the last person of the combina. tion that I saw was poor Brownley, in a half-drunken sleep in a street car at mid. night, on his way to whatever kind of a home, or a stopping place he may have As the inspector finished his story he ac- tually sighed, but just for which one of the characters in his very Chicagoesque tale it is not possible for the reporter to say. gee nan Sehool Was Behind the From the Atlanta Constitution. The boy with the red satchel of books ‘was coming down Decatur street and met the greasy-faced boy, who sald: “Say, Joe, whut kinder books dus dey make a feller swaller at de public skule?” “Oh, Jes’ g’ografies an’ ‘rithmeticks, an’ things that away.” “Shu! Don’t hev no Buffalo Bill books ner nuthin’ about de Jeems boys?” eNsneT Times, "bout piruts ner bandits, “Ner ‘shootin’ Injuns ner taggers, ner nuthin’? “Nope.* “Shaw, thin, I wudn't go to ther poky ole skule. Hit mus’ be dull ‘nuff to gin’ a fel- ler de fever. Dese yere skule teachers is allus ‘way behind de times, ennyhow.” oo A Dakota Metropolis. From the Cleveland Leader. Stranger—“You've got quite a thriving town here, haven't you?” Native—“Yes. The increase in population has been 215 per cent during the last year and a half, and everybody's prospering, too." Stranger—“‘Indeed! Yet I don't see any shops or factories around, and it doesn’t seem to be much of a ‘railroad center, either. What industry do you depend upon partigularly? Farming?” Native—“No; we haven't any shops or factortes: we're not on any main line of raflroad, and the country in this immediate vicinity isn’t very productive, but I'll tell you what we have got. We've got seven- ten divorce courts, and every one of "em is compelled to work overtime right along. Bistter. ave found purchasers possesses any present a Vacitic railroad has mil n its hand, which one of its officers would be giad to dispose of at an average some time ago told me they Price of fifty cenjs ver acre. It is moun- THE ,BUSSIAN SINGER AND HER PETS. i Written for ‘The Eveytng Star. ENEMY RE HOGS. An Interesting _Episode of the Late Sioux Campaign. The weather béd-jbeen remarkably fine up to December 23, and it was a rellef to us when we recetyed orders to march to White Clay. We had been camped at Oelrich, S.D., since our arrival. and what with being con- stantly out on patrdl duty looking for the Sioux to make an attempt to break through from the Bad Lands, it -was a pieasant break in our monotonous existence to be ordered intoSactive service. We arrived at White Clay at noon 24th, and found thecamp fires of “Short Bull” still warm, he having silently stolen away upon our appfoach and joined his friends in the Bad Lands. We vere joyfully welcomed by Lieut. C——y of the —st Infantry, who command- ed two troops of Cheyenne Indian scouts, guarding the government beef camp four miles up the river. After pitching camp the clouds became lewering and shortly thereafter the snow fell thick and fast, covering the earth with its soft, fleecy mantle. The cooks of the variouc troops were on the alert, and ex- erted themselves to the utmost of their ability to prepare, out of the scanty means at their disposal, an appetizing meal for the following day. That evening as we sat around the camp fires msny were the stories told of former Christmas eves, spent in the far east un- der more favorable circumstances. Our night guard was doubled on account of our close proximity to the hostiles, and after smoking a pipe the majority of us retired to our tents to seek much-needed rest. Scarcely had the camp become silent, save for the measured tread of the headquarter sentinel, when the approach of a body of horsemen was heralded by the sharp chal- lenge of one of our pickets. Shortly there- after five horsemen were brought into camp by the officer in charge of the out- pests, who desired to see the commanding cfficer. Col. S— was awakened, and one of the horsemen, who seemed to be greatly ex- cited, Informed him that they had been out in the vicinity of Craven creek on a ten dzys’ hunt. Upon returning to their ranch that evening, while unsaddling their horses they heard strange noises coming from the interior of their cabin. Upon investigating they found it occupied by a band of hos- tiles, who were holding a “ghost dance.” Being totally unprepared for such an omergency, and after holding a hasty con- sultation among themselves, they came to tke conclusion to ride to our camp for as- sistance. Col. S— immediately ordered Troop I to saddle up, and, in command of Lieut. H—, to repair to the scene and develop the enemy if possitle. It took but a few moments to get in the saddle, and after a brisk trot of avout eight miles we came to the ranch. Every- thing seemed quiet. No lights appearing in the cabin, Lieut. H— ordered ten men to dismount and surround the cabin, while three made for the dcor; the remainder of the troop to act as a reserve. Everything being ready, the lieutenant closed in on the cabin. Arriving at the door, he endeavored to force it in, being covered by the other men, armed with pistols and carbines. A few blows with the butt end of a carbine ard the door gave way. No sooner were the men in the cabin—which was in total derkness—than they were assailed by a volley of squeals and squeaks and scamp- ering of feet, one trooper being floored by having one of the ‘hostiles” dash between his legs. Everything was in confusion for a few moments, the'men inside firing their revolvers into thé darkness; those outside awaiting the appearance of the enemy. This rather. one-sided skirmish lasted for several minutes, when the flash from one of the revolvers disclosed to the view of the party not a band of hostile Sioux, but a group of terrified,:ttembling and thorough- demoralized porkers. The lieutenant or- on the red a cessation, of hostilities and a light. After ing a,fhprough examination of the cabin and Surfoundings we came to the conclusion that the only “hostiles’ in, at or near the brave ranchers’ cabin were that group of frightened pigs. y that our friends, the ranchers, restfallen is putting it mildly, and submitted t0 the chaffing of the troop- very bad grace. After being cantloned by Lieut. H. about bringing such sensational report into camp and rousing the command at night for the purpose of herding thetr pigs, we mounted and started back to camp, arriving at 1 a.m. in no enviable frame of mind, but satisfied at least that we had not come in contact with anything worse than live bacon. We were soon in our bunks, and gradual- ly sank to sleep and pleasant dreams, to arise at the first note of reveille and Christmas morning on the bleak plains of South Dakota. ALFRED E. LEWIS, Late Sergeant Major, Fort Leavenworth Cavalry Squadron. THE REGULAR PRICE. The Young Woman in the Case Had Been Accustomed to a Certain Price. Again are we called upon to chronicle the infinite superiority of the famous Washing- ton girl. This time she has transferred the field of her genius to New York city, where the people think they know everything, and about a thousand times as much more, and then some more. She had boarded a street car up town, coming out of a store with her gloves off, for some reason or other best known to herself. Possibly it was a glove store. Whatever it was, she had her gloves off, ard it was proper atd correct for her to have them off, or she would have had them on. ‘There were not more than eight or ten people in the car, and when she had taken a seat she began to put her gloves on. When they were both on she took out of her pocketbook a dainty little silver glove buttoner and proceeded to button that one on her left hand. In doing so the buttoner slipped from her fingers and fell to the ficor of the car. immediately a chappie-looking young man with the Rock of Gibraltar in his face stooped to pick the buttoner up, and having got it in his hands, he rose, smil- ing, and, much to her surprise, offered to button the glove. For an instant she acted about as the average girl would have done, and then the Washingtonian genius came Yo her aid, and smiling kindly, she held her hand out to him in compliance with his request. She sat perfectly unmoved as he took about twice as long to it as there was any need of, and as soon as he had finished it she calmly held out the other. He didn’t quite expect this, evidently, but he had his nerve with him, and more smiling than ever, he took ter hand in his and buttoned the other glove. Taking the button hook from his unre- sisting fingers, she took out her pocket book to replace it, and finding in it a rickel, with the most innocent manner in the world, she handed it to the young man. ‘With all his nerve he couldn’t stand this, and he promptly féturned it, at the same time making some kind of a protest, which she did not pay any attention to, but took the coin back anéproffered a dime in its stead. This he alto returned with quite a show of indignation. “Why,” she exclaimed, with that same beautiful artlessness, never give more than ten cents at ‘home to have my gloves buttoned.” 993 Everybody imthe car heard her say it, of course, and betere anybody had stopped laughing the gi t glove buttoner had escaped from the car and disappeared. = Reward of Merit From the Beston “Trjnscript. Parent—“‘How qid you get along with your geography: lesson today, Johnny?” Pupil—“Bully! The teacher was so pleas- ed that she had’ the gtay after school and repeat it all ovér & only just to her.” eee ae eee ud Furnace Showed It. From Life. Mrs. Flattehouse—“What are you look- ing at the thermometer for?” Mr. Flattehouse—“I am looking to see whether the janitor is drunk or sober to. day.’ ee Am Up-tosDate Proverb. From Life. Some people lay up something for a rainy day, and others let things go to soak when the time comes. ee Another Great Truth, From the Chicag> Iecord. “We ought to give even the devil his due.” “Yes. but the trouble is we often on him money we owe to other peo- IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT. The Policeman Has an Interesting Comversation With a Man He Picks Up It was the dead of the night in the capi- tal of the nation and there was nobody vist- ble at the funeral except one lone police- man. As he came around into the avenue at the Peace monument he discovered a man recumbently reclining in a doorway. He was noi long in shaking the lodger out and having put him on his feet, he dscover- ed that h> had slept off most of the bad effects of what had gone before. “Here, here,” said the officer almost kind- ly, “this won't do. Don’t you know it’s time you were at home in bed?" “I jest got here ‘smorning, the dazed lodger. “Well that’s no reason why you shouldn't be_at home in bed.” The lodger rubbed his eyes and gazed leerily at the officer. “Didn't I tell you I jest got here ’smorn- ing?” he asked. “Yes, but I don’t see what that's got to do with your being at home in bed. The lodger straightened up as best he could. You puffeckly sober?” he inquired. Certain} laughed the officer, for his ‘find’ was evidently a member of the re- spectable classes, and he didn’t want to be too hard on hi “Then cin’t you see how I can’t be home in bed?” No, I can’t.” “Well, y'cught to. My home's in Ohio, 'n I_jest got here ’smorning. Now, how can I be hime in bed?” “Oh, I sce,” grinred the officer. an office, I suppose?” “No,” he said, shaking his head, “office after me.” “Did it chase you down in this part of town?” “What part of town’s this?” he inquired gazing around with a half scared look. “It's away down here by the Capitol. Don’t you see that big white building up there? That's the Capitol.” The doorway lodger rubbed his eyes and] shook himself together with a final ef- for responded “After ‘Sthat the Capitol?” he asked less thick- ly than before, and with signs of a re- stored consciousness. ‘Well, darn if 1 didn’t think it was my hotel, but somehow I didn’t seem to recollect that my hotel had that much front yard around it, and 1 set down on that doorstep there to kind of think it over when somehcw I lost the con- nection. Was I asleep when you called?” The policeman assured the gentleman from Ohio that he certainly was asleep at that time, and then, feeling that the visi- | tor had erough trouble before him before the office he wanted would be his, he kind- ly started him in the direction of his hotel and let him go. —_——__— AN EXASPERATING PERSON, The Woman Who Wanted to Go to Georgetown and Met Reverses. She was one of those women best de- scribed by the term “exasperating female. That is to say she was not pretty, nor pleasing of manner or person, nor any oth- er of those choice attributes that go with that sort of female we love to call woman. Neither was she young. Say anything else of a woman and be forgiven, but never this. She boarded a yellow car of the Meiro- rolitan line at 14th and F streets and in two minutes was scrapping with the con- ductor because somebody left the door open. Then she beckoned to him to come to Ler, and he thought she wanted him to stop che car, and he rang the bell, only to discover that she wanted him to come to her so sh might ask him some silly question or other. By the time the car reached K street, the j conductor would have surrendered haif his salary for just one good chance to have pushed that woman's windpipe clear back against her cervical vertebrae and held it there till the coroner came, even if that functionary didn’t come for a month or six weeks. But, of course, he didn’t dare do it. Neither did he dare ask her where she wanted to get off, and she hasn't said a word to him about it. He was sure by this time that she was simply waiting to spring it on him, and then if he carried her two inches and a half past the crossing she was going to let him know what he had done. At Dupont Circle, as the car swung around toward Stewart Castle, she gave a snort and a jump and caught the conductor as he dodged. “I want to go to Georgetown,” she ex- claimed. “Very well, madam, he responded wit politeness and a sense of relicf, a will have to get off of this car.” “Why didn’t you tell me so? “I thought perhaps you knew it, madam.” “Don’t be insolent, sir. Of course I knew it, but why didn’t you tell me this car didn’t go to Georgetown when I got on?” “Because you didn't ask me, madam.” “It's your business to know. sir,” and she bounced herself out; but she heid onto the rail for a final chat. “How long will I have to wait here to get to Georgetown?” she asked after the manner of women asking clear and lucid questions. “A thousand years, madam,” replied the conductor, ready to grasp at any straw of revenge. This almost paralyzed her. “Wha—wha—wha—what do you mean?” she stammered. “Just what I say, madam, and more. You will never in the world get to George- town if you wait here. Take the green car coming round the bend there and try that, and the conductor actually chuckled with gratified glee as his own car slipped out of her grasp and away from the sound of her voice. — THE POLITE DRUMMER. A Little Story of How His Politeness Was Not Wasted. A group of traveling men in the smoking compertment of the Pullman car were talk- ing over various business peculiarities, and the subject incidentally took in the ex- clusiveness of the heads of certain large and aristocratic firms, principally in New York, Philadelphia and Boston. “I think I had about the oddest exper- ience in that Hne once,"’ remarked a Phil- adelphia drummer. “When I first went on the road I was only twenty-one, and, of course, a man of that age can’t have very great weight or influence, either with the firm or its customers. The result was that I didn’t know a single member of our firm, even by sight, unless perhaps it was the jumor member, and all my dealings were with the manager, to whom I looked for position, pay, instructions and so on. “My first trip out for the house lasted three months, and in that time I had un- usually good luck, and when I started back to headquarters it was with a full belief that I had made my record and the future was in my own hands. But I wasn’t proud, and, thank the Lord, I wasn’t fresh; at least, not too fresh. At breakfast on the train which would land me at home late in the afternoon I sat with an elderly gentleman, who was in- clined to listen to my political, commer- cial and other opinions, and we became quite good friends before the meal was finished. After that he took one of my cigars, which was better than the car stock, and we continued our acquaintance. Isefore the day was done I had told him pretty much all about myself and had dis- covered that he was going to Philadelphia also. Who he was other than that he had net communicated, though I had given him my name early in the morning and had told him with pride that I represented the great firm of X. Y. Z. & Co. “Just before we reached the station I gave him a special invitation to call on me at my place of business and I would be glad to show him what there was to be seen in town and pay for a cold bottle as a slight token of my esteem. “Now, if you will be kind enough to give me your name,’ said I, ‘so I can leave a note, if I should have occasion to, I shall be very much obliged.’ “The old gent smiled in the most father- ly way. “Certainly,” he said, ‘my name is X—, and {if you will come into my private office tomorrow morning at 10 o'clock I'd like to talk to you.” “Well, gentlemen,” concluded the drum- mer, “you could have knocked me down with a feather when he said that, but I put up the same good front I'd been giv- ing him all day. I was on hand prompt- ly next morning likewise, and I've felt better ever since, and that was a dozen or fifteen years ago.” ——__ A Natural Inference. + From Puck. “Did you hear what Whimpton’s little boy said when they showed him the twins?” eae whe desl ee 4 said: ‘There! mma’s been gettin’ bargains again.’” PHILANDER JOHNSON» Written Exclusively for The What would plaz me Sceking Knowledge. » frinds av the two ar- “Charley,” said young Mrs. Torkins.” |p iitaie or a nate. pie a eeexpected at “you don’t mind if I display a little igno ! rae shtuff, the go in widout cagin Trance now and then, do you? whether their pictures wor in the ps “Certainly not. Go right ahead and give | !Ot. But it couldn't be done. They m the exhibition whenever you feel like it,” | P@ @4Vertotsed loike a circus or a shteam a boat excursion. Thin they come out an was the hearty repiy. the stage in ights both bowin’ an’ “I am anxious to get acquainted with the | shcrapin’, loike the girl thot Ieals the things that interest you, you know, so that! amazin’ march In the batlet. It wouldnt ara De aon Anes deep surprise ye ty hov a planny shtrike up fur < see ea nta eee em ty take hold of hands an’ waltz.” at’s right.’ “But ‘twor a serious affair. Of read thot “I heard you talking about Gomcz ves- terday evening. You seem to admire him wan o' thim showed soigns av nervou whin he shtepped an the platform.” “It ss meryenachi wor from stage-froight. The wan el Sey ting required ty complate the occasion wor 7 2 for a robber ty go up an’ down the aisles “He's very much in demand, isn't he? “He doesn’t walt to be called on. You'll find him right in the thickest of the ‘ray, every time.” sellin’ the words an’ music ay the show O1 don’t say but what It's genuine av {t's kind, an’ all roight fur thim as loikes ft It may be pugilism, Rafferty, but tt ain't “He must have a great deal of courage. * | foghtin’. “He has.” * “I suppose that when he thinks a bail is “* coming toward him he never flinches, but Brown. stands still and waits for it.” It was pretty to see how she gazed that “I—I don’t know that he goes quite so far day as that.” “Is he a good runner?” “Not that I know of. “What makes him so popular?” “It’s his generalship.” As he led her, a bride, from the church There was trust in her smiling and hope in her eyes, For she truly believed she had won a prize. “And generalship is the main thing, after | There was ro telling, then, she would all, isn’t it?” softly say, “Of course.” What wonderful things he would do some “I'm afraid I am bothering you, Charley. day. But I do dislike not to be posted about people that you seem to think so much of. There is one more question I'd like to have you answer, and I hope you won't make fun of me for not knowing beforehand.” “What ts It?" “What nine does Mr. Gomez play $n this season?” His genius would certainly win renown Fame had nothing to give too good for Brown. The years rolied on and the loving light Sul sbonesin her eyes as she watched each night. He hadn’t done much in the way of art— The career upon which she had set her heart. But politics yet his aid would claim And he'd find his sphere and would hear his name Echoed in country house and town. The world would clamor in praise Brown. * x« * L. Breeches, Et When a youngster grows up, folks seem doubtful, Like such things had never been known, And lots won't believe when I tell them That I'm “Little Breeches” full-grown. But I am, all the same, and I've traveled A mighty long distance to claim A shake o’ the hand with the author Who first introduced me to fame. of Age hovered near; it was but to find Her old ambitions left far behind. But she clasped his hand as he plodded on Believing that fortune must surely dawn. That wealth, which may come in a single day, Would yet turn honors and joy their way, And then, their own burdens of care ali down, The grateful poor should remember Brown I wanted to make a short visit And chat for a minute or two, For I thought that to pay my respects to him Was nothin’ beyond his due. And I hadn't a doubt of my welcome From ene who had held a pen Her disappointments could never dim So simple and unassumin’ and close The loving faith that she had in him. To the hearts of his fellow men. And she tenderly speaks in the same old way And _I pictured a pretty cottage: Of the wonderful things he will do some The kind that the poets like, day. And a garden patch and a windin’ lane She thinks that his virtues were far too To remind him o' dear old Pike. great And I thought that his eves would sparkle For a thoughtless world, this thoughtless As he gave me a grip and told world, to appreciate, How much he preferred plain country | That the sweetest harp afd the brightest friends crown To society, proud and cold. Are being reserved, as his due, for Brown. * Say, stranger, perhaps you've felt it, * * That sudden and awful blow When the girl that you've worked and saved for Just laughs as she answers “‘no.”” When all the hopes of a lifetime A Trothfal Assertion. There is a young man of this city whe as chronically light and hajy free, as a comic opera chorus. is and hing Ray In a moment are swept away. can step the sparkling rij of his good If you have, you can get some notion spirits. His disposition enables him to re- Of the way that I feel today. member occasions such as dr Whar do you think I found him? ers to the verge of despair with jo: In a cozy cot? Not much! enthusiasm. He was walking along ihe ‘Twas a great big house in a neighborhood | avenue, arm-in-arm with a friend, when le As you have to pay cash to touch. stopped suddenly and called attention te a And I gathered some rey eee plain, middle-aged man who was coming He don’t put no mortgages on his place out of an office building. Like the folks out to Pike all do. “Did you ever see him before?” he asked. Never,” replied the friend. He looks a great deal like anybody else, doesn’t He asuredly doe “He's one of the people you'd pass in a crowd without looking at twice, isn't he” Undoubtedly. “You'd never have thought that man had kept me sitting for hours at a time mouthed astonishment, would you Never.” But he has. And I’m sure there are oth- | er people who will tell the | “What is ke: a lecturer?’ 1 know of.” Maybe he's a parlor magician.” ‘No. He isn’t even a free silv: nor the advance agent of a show. dentist.” me story.” ora*or He's a But the thing that stuck in my bosom Like a knife, with a painful throb, ‘Was to hear he'd forgot himself so fur As to tie to a government job. And his duties will call him to mingle With royalty’s wealth and tone— ‘The man that spoke them emphatic words Abeut “loafin’ around the throne!” * * * The Only Cure. it makes me boil with indignation!” ox- ciaimed Mr. Meekton’s wife as she laid down the paper. He waited in silence for her to continue, and then responded in a tone of cautious inquiry. “Does it, dear?” “Are you attempting to carry on @ con- versation with me?” “Yes, dear.” “Then perhaps it would be a good idea to find out what we are talking about before you venture any remarks.” “That's what I was trying to do, Henri- etta. You wouldn't mind telling me, would you?” “It’s about burglars.” “Those you insisted were trying tu get into the house last night, till we discovered there weren't ary? “I suppose you want to be congratulated for bravery because you took the poker and went down ceilar, while I stood on the top step and held the light?” No, Henrietta. That was a_ privilege. 1 appreciated the manner in which you (ook my gallantry for granted and stood aside and yielded me the right of wa: che of the proudest moments of nz Well, that has nothing to do with the case. I was reading of how a woman, with ail the weakness of so many of her sex, clung to a housebreaker, even after he was sent to the penitentiary. It happens every day. “I have noticed ever so many cases of that kind,” was the reply, “and the more I think about them the more mysterious they become. The remedy—a heroic one: Excuse me fur weepin’ a lttle. This ain’t any case fur giee; I reckon as how no orphan, sir, Feels worser bereayed than me. I'm a-goin’ to chane@iimy manners And my method of speech so blunt: It’s time that this here Little Breeches Had a crease ironed down the front. * *** Attempts a Distinction. said Mr. Dolan, as he clasped his hands around one knee and looked his friend in the face, “y’er a dishgrace ty your countries.” “What do yez mane?" “Oirland and America.” “Thot ain't what Oi mane,” responded Rafferty. “What Oi mane is what do you mane by ‘dishgrace?’” “The way yet let yer moind go dwellin’ an the foight bechune Corbett an’ Fitch immons.” Rafferty looked at him wonderingly and exclaimed, “Tell me, Dolan; how did ye play thot thrick?” “What thrick is it?” “Lookin’ in me eyes an’ tellin’ me Ol wor "inkin’ about the foight.” “Thot’s no thrick. It wor only common sinse. Ye're not altogether an idjit, Raf- ferty, an’ what else was there ty be t'ink- in’ about?" “Wull, Of musht say Ot'm glad the cham- | PU_the cure seems to be complete in every peenship is decolded bechune thim, too.’ : “I shpose, under the circumsht: as good satisfaction as we kin ho; “What more could yex expect? hat are you talking about?” Don't mistake me, Henrietta. I don't advise it at all. But it does seem that the = only way a woman can get over being Whin it comes ty expectations, O1 must | scared almost to death over burgiars 1s to answer ye, ‘nothin’... But Oi'm obliged ty merry one.” confiss thot there's a wistfulness still wid me.” “Av course. Thot wer ty be looked for. An’ so far from takin’ ixciption to it, Oi junno but Ol'm glad ye say so. Ol like ye, js Dolan. An’ if ye worn't the divil's own fur | Mra Kuddier—“Do you know, George, contrariness, ye'd be somebody else.” that everybody says the baby is just lke an Ol know it seems onraysonable. Afther | me?” 1 the jawin’ an’ blatherin’ an’ your're an-| Mir. Kuddler—“Nonsense, Anne. ‘The otherin’ thim two has been doin’ fur years, | paby is now more than six months old, it’s a relafe we oughty be t'ankful fur ty | ord it has never spoken @ ponte hoy the question av who the champeenship ee : longs to foinally settled. ‘The dishpute wor worse than the lawyers had the toime me Net the Right Ming. From the Adams Freeman. on eye Suey, court ty get a clear title ty the shanty. The objection till a Mother—“Daughter, unk T mak professional pugilist is the same thot wor | take there was something to what x8 young man told last evening.” noticeable in Maggie McGuire afther she Daughter—“I don’t wish to break confi- wint an gr —_ Befoor thot, she wor singin’ an’ dancin’ around the house da! an’ noight. Afther her daybew she'd niver | dences, mother, but it did have an engage- let go the screech av a note or the slip av a | Ment ring.’ toe because her father an’ mother hadn't paid ty get in. It’s the same way wid pugi- sts. ‘They'd rather disappoint thelr fri'nds | Prom Late than run the risk av puttin’ in a lick wid| : , Se es ee ee May I kiss your hand?" he asked. lists thot couldn't be held from goin’ in ai ee eee mixin’ it up wid their hands tvery tolme| “No.” she replied, “I have my gloves oi they come in soight av aich other. They —— the Same Class. ee A Resemblance. From the Boston Transcript. Permission Denied. Not 4 From Tid-Bits. She—“I can sympathize with you. I was wor deef an’ dumb.” “But what more could ye ask than foind- in’ out which is the champeen?” “Ora loike ty know which is the besht volatile foight. qo amie married A a wor a >t He—“But “No, Rafferty. Thot wor no foight. it! man” 7" 3 ia aed