Evening Star Newspaper, May 8, 1897, Page 14

Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. “Street sweeping at night time is by no means all fun,” remarked an old driver of @ street sweeping machine to a Star re- porter, “for we have to keep our eyes skinned all the time, or we will sweep curselves into @ lot of trouble. It is a very sleepy business in other ways, for the horses do their work so regularly that they know the routes as well as those who schedule them for us, and many of them sieep while they are out on their routes. The difficult part of the work is during the warm weather, for on hot nights it 1s re- markable how many people are found sleeping on the streets, and especially near the gutters. It is to keep a watchout for such fellows as this that makes our work. It may seem peculiar to many, but it is a fact all the same that there Is scarcely a night during the summer that we do not have a queer experience in the matter of 5 up people. I remember one night last summer very well, and 1 suppose I will always remember it. I was_ driving along K street, along the edge of Mount Vernon Park, and had just about reached came out upon the stiline: I at first supposed some one being held up in the park, or at least < he supposed he was being murdered, but was more horrified when I discovered Il kad gathered up a man in my sweep- He was terribly tangied up in jay ma- and, though I feld up as quicsly as |. he kept on crying out that he was being murdered at the top of his voice. I caretully untwisted him and put on his feet. It appears he sat down 5n the curb to wait for a car, and fell asleep, and must have rolled into the street, for I was six feet away from the curb when I picked him up with my sweeper. [ convinced bim that it was his own fault, however. a a “It is wonderful how much confidence people have in a letter carrier's ability to deliver letters,” said a letter carrier to a Star reporter. “Very often we have letters to deliver with scarcely any address at all, and even that imperfect. If they manage, however, to get the number cf the Louse and the street right we can generaliy do tie rest, it matters not how the names are spelled or even if they have been left off her. In other instances the names but there is no address. In of ten such letters reach righ ases out stination, though they ere often someyv t delayed. I had a letter a few days ago which illustrates my ‘dea. It was addressed to a public wagon stand, to be delivered to the ‘driver of a gray horse with a covered furniture wagon, the wagon be- ing painted green.’ It was that secured the delivery he last word for it happens there are three white hor usually on that stand, but one green-painted wagon. was that the letter was "I visited that stand three = the da i, though white e in evidence each time I was inted wagon did not wrip. Then the com . and { delivered the order for the driver to some urniture. ther letter I once delivered was blindly addressed. It was ad- { to ‘Mr. , Who owns two Spitz jow and the other a gray.’ on the back of the envelope, ad- 9 the letter carrier,” ven that the name had slipped the mind of the writer, but that the man with the two dogs was known to the car- rier. It happened that I did know the man, and had often seen him with his dogs, but he lived two miles from my route, though he very frequently came through ting his son, who lived in my dis- He got his letter, though.” ke KR x “Though there are frequent advertise- ments im the daily papers of this city of persons who offer money to secure appoint- ments in the departments,” observed an old department clerk to a Star reporter, “I am satisfied that there has been but little business done in such matters in the past, and even less in late years. To tell the truth, I know of but one such case, and that was fifteen or more years ago. Since then I have not even seen it charged that such things existed. My experience has been that the persons who advertise in such manner do so in desperation, and having heard that such things have been done, are willing to run the risk. In the way department places are now filled there is no chance for what was known as office brokerage. There is a class of broken- down, or broken-up, politiclans who like to make it appear that they are men of great influence. If people are fools enough to give them money they will guarantee to get them in the departments, or anywhere for that matter, but it is a clear case fidence game or swindle, and they of delivering the goods. In- the most of them would gladly n take a smajl place in the depart- tion v men mselves if they could secure one. ‘There was an old fellow about the Capitol seve years ago who did quite a thriving vindling applicants for depart- His specialty, however, was in securing places bout the Capitol, though the entire time he was here he was jcant for a stiall position there He claimed to have a pull on the legation. With others, -he claimed hims Texas di that he was a brother-in-law of the late if. Senator Voorhees. He also claimed a near tionship to Ambassador Bayard, and mised any number of diplomatic ap- tments. He was a lawyer, and knew sh about the law to go just so far and o further. He never took money out- right or contracted to do any particular rvice, though he made as many loans as he could from his victims for using his in- Those advertisements do a great deal of harm out of this city, for they are shown about as evidence of great corrup- tion in Washington. As far as I have looked into the matter, and my service as clerk in the appointment office of one of the largest departments has given me greater opportunity than many could have, i em satisfied that the whole thing Is done by ignorant persons, and that they never get any answers to their advertisements.” + * $6 & “The general delivery window of the city post office is used for many things besides the delivery of letters,” explained one of the night clerks. “Only recently, and some- how the case did not get into the news- Papers, a Kentucky sheriff arrested a des- perate barn burner through the general delivery window. It appears that one of a gang of barn burners was arrested, and on him were letters from the leader of the gang, stating that though he intended stay- ing in Baltimore with some friends until the excitement about their operations passed over, he would occasionally visit Washington to secure any letters that might be sent to him by his intimates. He particularily advised that his letters should be sent to the general delivery. The sheriff called at the office, explained the ease, and asked if there were any letters for the writer of the letter. He was told that there were two. The sheriff then camped, as it were, at the general delivery window. On his fourth night the man called for his mail. The tip was given to the sheriff, who was in the rear hall of the office at the time, and the arrest was. made.” ** * * & “The word ‘piug-ugly’ we see sometimes in print,” says an old-timer, “was unknown to our grandfathers, and lexicographers may look in vain for the root of the word in the languages which form the founda- tion of the English. It is a modern word, but half a century old, and, we believe, in 1| selling. he informa- } — more general use in the middle states than elsewhere. The term is applied to any rough, rowdy or fighter in these days; but as criginally used it was applied only to one who would fight for the possession of a fire plug. This was in the latter part of the forties, and early part of the fifties, when the cities, in their water supply sys- tems, provided fire plugs. The volunteer fire companies had before relied on the streams, pumps and reservoirs for the water to extinguish fires, and the aim of each ccmpany when an alarm sounded was to get the first water from a plug and thus secure an advantage over the rival companies. Often when the firemen reach- ed the ground they would find a man hold- ing possession of the plug for his favorite comfany, and if he refused to give it up a fight was the natural outcome. It is not surprising that the word plug-ugly. should have been evolved as descriptive of the ugly fighters over the fire plugs. Happily wherever there are paid fire departments there are now no ‘plug-uglies,’ unless we apply the word to any one of ugly dispo- sition, and the real genus is yearly becom- ing more rare in the towns and villages where the old hand apparatus is still used.” xk KK x “Dr. Daniel B. Clarke's retirement from the National Bank of the Republic,” says one of his old friends, “probably closes a long, active and successful business career of half a century, for he will likely enjoy his evening of life in a well-earned rest. Dr. Clarke was in early life an apothecary —as the druggists were than called—and about 1845 established a business at the corner of 11th and D streets southwest (ith street being then the main thorough- fare to the steamboat wharves), his capital invested being only $100. Here Dr, Clarke built up a good trade and passed many years of his life, subsequently removing to Pennsylvania avenue and 42 street, and the to another stand, where he was highly successful as a wholesale and retail dealer in drugs. He retired from this busi- ness when he became the president of the bank, and during his administration his di- rectory and bank furnished officers for other national banks—Mr. John E. Herrell, president of the National Capital, and the late Mr. W. R. Riley, president of the West End. Among them I recall, too, the fact that the late Dr. James E. Morgan entered on the practice of his profession as a neigh- bor of Dr. Clarke about the time the latter entered business in South Washington, and the late Wm. J. Sibley, so loag one of Dr. Clarke’s associates as a director in the bank, then filled the modest position of messenger in the Post Office Department.” —— AN UNPATENTED METHOD. A Traveler Who Believed in Helping Those Who Helped Themselves. | There were half a dozen drummers on a Pennsylvania train in Pennsylvania headed toward Pittsburg, which is also in Penn- sylvania, and they were talking about ail manner of interesting things, as drummers always do. Incidentally their stories ran into the subject of the sharpness of drum- mers and their proof against the wiles of wary. Which reminds me,” remarked a good- looking fellow from Philadelphia, “that about two years ago right along her2 I had an experience. There were eight or ten of us, and at Johnstown we were joiaed by a modest and backward kind of chap from Chicago”—everybody gave the talker the laugh, but he went on with his story—“who had a line of patented things which he was When he got started he seemed to | be very intelligent, and he had the patent business down fine. “About fifty miles or so out of Pittsburg a plainly dressed, clean-looking party came into the car and took a seat among us, for he seemed to be a man who liked compan- ionship. Later it developed that the new man had a patent car coupler and was ‘looking for capital. The Chicago man, in line with his Interests in patents, at once | began an investigation, and pretty soon he reported that the invention was a good one. So good, in fact, that he made a date with the patentee to meet him next day at his hotel in Pittsburg, the inventor saying he | lived in one of the interior towns, and was | stopping with a brother in the suburbs. “When the patentee left the train at his suburban station we guyed the Chicago man a good deal about rainbow chasing and cranks with patents and other things on which sensible people very often waste @ lot of time. “That's all right,’ he retorted, ‘bat one of these very articles I am selling now was offered to me just as this fellow offered me his today, and I turned it down. I happen to know that at present it pays my firm about $10,000 a year, net, which I might as well have had as they. Since that date, my dear boys, you bet I don’t give any kind of a patent a chance to get by me until 1 see what it is.” “He talked so quietly and earnestly that when we got off the train those of us who could had agreed to meet the patentee at the Chicago man’s hotel next day, and those who could not be present had a proxy named to act in case the patent proved to be good. It did so prove, for there was no question about its mechanical excellence, and when the meeting adjourned a com- mittee had been appointed to draw up papers, organize and get the new company in shape. Each of us put down our names for so much stock, the Chicago man sub- scribing to $500 worth and putting the cash down for it. In a day or two there was $3,009 to our credit in a well-known bank, and there would have been a lot more if we had followed the advice of the Chicago man, who was our general manager and treasurer, but we did not want to divide our snap into too many parts, and refused to receive further subscriptions. “When this was fully settled the three or four of us still remaining in town went ahead on our business, leaving the Chi- cago man and the patentee, whose patent had gone in as one-third of the stock, in ‘charge, to keep things moving until ‘the next meeting of directors, two weeks later. “But that meeting rever came off. I was unexpectedly called back to Baltimore four days later, and I had to stop over a train in Pittsburg. When I had transacted the firm's business I thought I'd just drop into the hotel where our man was stopping and see how things were. The clerk told me both men had gone to Harrisburg on business two days before, and had told him to hold mail, telegrams, &c., as they would be back in three days. That's all he knew, and that’s all I could find out then, as I had to hurry on to Baltimore; but I wired @ man to meet me at the train in Harris- burg who was a stockohlder to the same extent I was. He had seen neither of the men. “But why go on with the sad story? They had buncoed us; that was all there was to it. It was easy, because we were easy. ‘They weren't so sharp as we were so stu- pid, and there's no te!ling how many suck- ers would have bitten if we had not been greedy and shut the subscription books. They took every cent we had in the bank, and left us with all the bills to pay, which we paid rather from a sense of duty than a sense of indebtedness, and so the chapter ended.” ———e Prices P: for Wild Beasts. From Answers. A portion of Carl Hagenbeck’s well- known collection of animals, some of which were seen kere, has just been sold at Ham- burg. One lot, comprising three licns, two ti- gers, two leopards, a polar bear and four dogs, ali “accustomed to perform together,” brought £2,500; a similar lot, but with five lions and three tigers, brought £3,400, while £600 purchased a Penang tiger which had been taught to ride on a norse accompanied by a dog. An elephant, with a lion which rides and a horse, fetched only a fraction less. High prices were paid for some old ele- phants--from £250 to £500. A hippopota- mas, six months old, reached £500. Tigers brought £105 to £300; lions, £100; one chim- panzee, £50, and several ostriches, £40 each. Located. From Life. 5 Teacher (some time in the future)— “Where is New York state?’ : Pupil—“In the extreme southern: corner of the Greater New York.” e ——_--e+__ If you want anything, try an ad. in The Star. If has Saat Se a eh THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MAY 8, 1897-24 PAGES. A YOUNG WOMAN OF POLISH She was a typical sweet young thing; one of those ideal creatures with natural golden hair, @ complexion, also natural, akin to alabaster and a plump figure that was not greatly marred by the addition of a cling- ing silk waist and a-dark cloth skirt. She smiled sweetly as she timidly approached the clerk of the Police Court a few days ago, and thereby disclosed a double row of real pearly teeth. In fact, she was ideally perfect, so far as looks go, and seemed strangely out of place amid such somber surroundings as are incidental to the old temple of justice. The sensibilities of the clerk, his deputies and a Star reporter, who were all wondering as tothe nature of her visit, therefore, were greatly shocked when she said in a 16 to 1 silver voice: “I am selling a shoe polish. Do you mind if I canvass the building?” Of course, the clerk did not mind, and he said so as politely as he could. The answer would have been the same if permission had been asked to blow up the court house with ¢yramite. “Thank you so much,” next murmured the sweet young thing in tones that tinkled like April rain drops in cuckoo cups of gold. Her plans were evidently carefully laid out, for she proceeded straightway to the office of Prosecuting Attorney Pugh, and, without a word of explanation, dropped on her knees before that susceptible official. Be- fore he could recover his presence of mind the visitor had taken a bottle of polish from a small valise and was energetically applying it to one of the shoes worn by Mr. Pugh. “isn't it grand?” she said as a patent leather gloss appeared, “and only 25 cents a bottle. Won't you buy one, please Mr. Pugh said he would not only buy one, but another also. Furthermore, he would exert himself to influence everybody within range to make a purchase, and everybody did, parting with his money after the mint- mum urging. In something less than ten minutes twenty-three bottles of polish had been disposed of, and only one bottle re- mained in the valise. “We must sell that last bottle,” declared Mr. Pugh. “Send for Mr. Mullowney.’ Mr. Mullowney is the popular assistant United States attorney, and he considers himself quite an entertaining conversation- alist. He soon put in an appearance and carefully examined the label on the bottle. “I haven't a quarter to spare,” he finally said, and was answered with a cajoling chorus from the score or more who had purchased. He was urged and threatened, but without avail. For thirty-eight min- utes Mr. Mullowney dilly-dallied, so to speak, until finally the sweet young thing said petulantly: “I never had such hard worketo get a quarter before in my life.” “Don’t be mad,” then remarked the Unit- ed States attorney, soothingly. “I was merely talking to keep you here as long as possible. Here's the money.” The visitor started to leave, when she was stepped. “Won't you shake hands?" plead- ed Mr. Mullowney. “You know’—and he compared his flaxen curls with her golden tresses—“‘we blondes should be friend “All blondes are light-headed,” was the immediate reply of the sweet young thing; “some more so than others. I don’t care to mention names, but I'm looking straight at you, Mr. Mullowney.” She whisked from the bullding. The as- sistant United States attorney said not a word. In silence he handed the bottle to a bailiff and returned to his office. He now threatens to prosecute to the full extent of the law any person who mentions shoe Polish in his presenc — A MISSING AIRSHIP. A Smithsonian Man Has Something to Say on the Subject. “Speaking of this airship or aerial what- is-it,” remarked an old clerk in the Smithsonian, “which seems to’ be perambu- lating through the circumambient atmos- phere, within the last few weeks, I am re- minded of an experience that came to me years ago. I was a boy of ten and had a pro- nounced taste for mechanics of all kinds. My home had been in Massachusetts, but my mother dying and leaving me alone in the world, I went to Ohio to stay with an uncle, who was a rich farmer, living about twenty-five miles south of Lake Erie. He had two sons five or six years older than myself, and working on the farm as the farm blacksmith was a man of about thirty years of age, who was the most in- geniovs fellow I ever knew. At least, he Seems 50 to me now, judging with my ‘ma- turer judgment by the impression he made on my youthful imagination. I used to play in the shop, and he took particular delight in having me there and helping me make various ttle things of iron. My cousins were fond of being with him, too, but they had less time, so that I became his nearest friend. “He would tell me about great things he was inventing and sometimes would show me odd-looking wheels and funny little fans and a lot more that he would tell me nothing of. After I had been on the farm nearly two years, he took me out one day and made me swear never to tell what he would show me, and then he let me into his sanctuary beyond the big room over the shop, where I saw a pecullar boat-shaped vessel, about twenty feet long, with a fan- like propeller for a tall, and along the sides finlike wings. Inside of it was an engine that worked with some kind of chemicals. What they were I do not know, but when he mixed them in the retort and set them afire, they made a light that blinded me so I could not look at it. “He told me very little. about his boat except that it would run through the air and that he was going to give it a trial trip when the moon was full, and that besides me only my two cousins were to see the start. The moon fulled a week later, and ar 10 o'clock at night, when everybody else was aslecp, my cousins and I slipped out of the house and joined the blacksmith at the shop. With our help, he soon got the boat, which was very light, and on rollers as well, to the hole in the wall where he had knocked the planks off. ‘Taking his place in it with his chemicals ready and a light in his hand the power going he told us he thought the boat would probably sail out of the shop and light on a hill about two hundred yards away. If it did not do more than let him down easy fifty feet away he would Le sat- isfled. What it did do was to carry him to the hill, and when we came after him he was nearly crazy ‘with the excitement of success, and wanted to start right then and there for Cleveland, about thirty miles away. We tried to talk him out of it, but he was sure everything was all right, and at once ran back to the shop and got @ great lot of his chemical fuel and the retort with it. pees “In some way, before he had got into the boat, the chemicals ignited and with a swish the strange machine gave a sudden lurch, dashing ‘the blacksmith to one side, and, rising like an arrow, shot northward toward the lake at an amazing speed. For an instant its creator watched it as it sped away with ali his hopes and labor and study, and tnen with a groan he fell to the ground and lay there. When we turned him over he was black in the face and blood was coming from his mouth. We were nearly frightened io death, but we got him home, and there he lingered for a week and died without ever quite regaining full consciousness. “A less sensitive man might have sur- vived the shock and built his boat again, but this man had his soul in his work and it went away when the boat did. What ever became of the craft no one has dis- covered to this day, though the general belief was that it had fallen into the lake and gone to the bottom, though it is ‘pos- sible that it might have bzen lost in the forests of Canada. Wherever it went no- body knew enough of it, except vs boys, to make any effort to find it, and the dis- covery ended with the blacksmith. It is remembered in that section now only by the outlines of it made from a drawing by one of my cousins, which were cut on the plain fharble slab over the grave of the blacksmith in @ little country churchyard.” —. A GOOD GIRL, Looking Backward Into a Man's Life History. As the reperter was passing a marble yerd @ man whom he well knew to be Prominent in the affairs of a church and the society clustered about it came out on the street and joined him. They were mem- bers of the same congregation and, as far as ons man tkirty years older than an- ‘death, followed Good Girl” i The reporter ‘looked questioningly at his friend, for the name was not that of any member of his family; and the date showed that the dead perscn was nearly seventy years old. s) “You don’t derstand what # means, of course,” he said, leading the reporter back to the street aggin and walking away with him, “but I do, and I want to tell you what only “a few of my friends know and what my wife _ known since she knew me. wih I Was a young man of twenty I was tngagéd as an under man- ager of a factory which my father owned. I was a silly sort of a chap about girls, as most young fellows are, and the daughters of our workme were not at all backward in accepting attentions from me. “Of these was cne, a very hansome girl, several years my senior and to me a most attractive girl. I devoted myself to her, and though she had no social position and the other girls in the factory and of its society wculd not associate with her, it made no difference to me and I proposed to defy my own people, the factory people and everybody else and marry her. At the time of my appearance she was recelv- ing the attention of a well-to-do farmer, who had been wanting to marry her for two or three years, but she was having a good time and would rct listen to him. She was ambitious, too, and as between the other men she knew and the farmer there was @ gulf she realized, and she would only take him as a sacrifice. Her father was most anxious that she should marry me, and he and I were on the ‘best of terms, and I did him many favors. “Of course, the girl was flattered and at first the flattery seemed to be all there was in it for her, but after a few months I could feel that she loved me with a no- bler and higher feeling than had ever come to her heart before. Later she used to talk to me about my marrying her and offering objections because of the condi- tions about her. But I would not listen. One day I saw her coming out of my mother’s house and was so surprised that I ran after and caught up with her. In reply to my inquiries she told me to call on her that evening and she would tell me something. I did so and she told me in the presence of her father that she would never marry me. I insisted that she should and her father became so angry that he threatened to kill her if she did not. She smiled at that and said she had provided against sucn contingencies and she told him to kill her if he wished to, but that would not make her my wife. “She thereupon handed him a marriage certificate showing that she had been mar- ried to the farmer that afternoon as the only way she could render me a service she could not possibly render as long as she was unmarried As another man’s wife I had ro claim on her, neither had her father, and I was free to choose a wife more suitable to my family and my age. “That ended it, of course, for I saw there was no use fighting the fates, and the farmer. Her father preferred that she have the farmer to no one, so he accepted the situation when he saw he had It to do, and as for the farmer, he was the only person of those immediately at. interest who was perfectly satisfied with the ar- rangement. However, as time went by we were all better satistied, for she proved to be a most exemplary wife, and she cer- tainly was a beautiful stepmother to his three children Whether it was because of her love for him, or for them, or for an ideal, I cannot say. He died ten years ago, leaving her a comfortable property, and when they told me of her death two months ago, I asked as a special favor that I be permitted to erect over her grave a tablet inscribed as this sone is: “She was a Good Girl.” ee He Had Done His Share. From Judge. The only people who are positive they are fitted to bring up children in the way they should go are very. old gentlemen and maiden ladies. An amusing little scene, in which the “helpful olf gentleman” figured, occurred the other day at the Grand Cen- tral station. Quite al family party were assembied, of the class that believes in making the midst of a free country, to await the arrival of an expected guest. Children were there: galore, playing tag all around the old gentleman's feet, falling periodically ovgr his canvas bag, squealing wildly as they fan into passengers, and re- treating in heaps as 4 “cop” approached. The “helpful’ gid man’ stood it as long as he could conscientiously, then, looking | over his spectacle: ‘said severely, “Stop that ‘rac tdren!” “Well, I like that!" answered one of the mothers, in a loud, apgry tore. But ‘if she did, the"old gentleman didn’t, and faced the woman as he continued: “Now, look here, madam, I’ve ralsed three famliies of children, and not a single child was ever allowed to annoy my neigh- bo! ‘Well,”” replied the irate lady, “if you’ve raised three families you've done your duty, and I’ll thank you to allow me to raise min +0 The Tale of am Umbrella, From Harper's Bazar. I—‘“Here, boy, take this umbrella to Mr. Dingle, 10 Long avenue, and tell him I am very much obliged for-the loan of it. Now hurry, for I think it is going to storm and he will need it.” TI—“What’s de use of havin’ an umbrel- ler an’ not usin’ it?” ‘ ef “Dis is @ tornado, sure! Dere goes de bioke’s umbrellerg eure!” ac d 7 ¥ the words: “She was @/ DIDN'T KNOW TURKEYS Old Man Nubbins sat listening to the “boardin’-men” swapping yarns about their prowess as hunters. He was in his favorite attitude—right leg crossed over the left; right elbow in left palm, the back of which rested on right knee; chin in palm of right hand—and, as usual, he was vig- orously masticating a huge chunk of to- bacco. He remained silent until the stylish youth remarked that he was something of a wild turkey killer himself, when the old man fairly snorted. “Humph! I've heer‘d that kind o’ talk from city fellers before. The fac’ is, they don’t know a wild turkey when they see one.” “Oh! Mr. Nubbins,” mildly remonstrated the youth, “I assure you FE do. But why do you speak so positively? Did you ever have any experience in this line with city hunters?” “Experience!” echoed the Snickers Gap oracle contemptuously. “That means a story,” put in the army veteran. “Let's have it, Nubbins.” 3 Depositing his ever-present cud in a con- venient spot on the window sill, the pop- ular boniface said: “Well, it ain't much of a yarn; but a few summers back there wus a lot of fel- lers stoppin’ at my house, and they talked so big ‘bout their shootin’ and their know- in’ “how to ketch game that I ast ‘em to come up in the fall and I'd try to round up some wild turkeys that I knowed was somewheres in the Blue Ridge. They talk- ed it over and accepted the invite, and a few weeks later three of ’em did come. Humph! You ought to've seen the outfit they fetched. Enough guns and dogs to’ve got ev’ything for twenty mile around.” The old man paused, a smile broke over his honest old face, and he shook his head approvingly as he continued: ‘But the licker they brung along! Well, well; it wus fine, and-no mistake, an’ they didn’t put no limit on it, nuther. I ain't had no such licker as that sence they left,” and there was a suspicion of injury in the tone of the last utterance that made his hearers feel a trifle uncomfortable at their neglect of so important a matter. So the veteran hastened to ask: “How about the turkey hunt, Nubbins?” “As I wus sayin’,” resumed the narrator, “when I got to thinkin’ about that licker, them three fellers had ‘nuff guns and stuit to hunt all winter with, and the way they alked "bout wild turkeys wus a caution. hey knowed all "bout 'em--where they wus, what they ‘et and how to git em, and called ‘em by some outlandish names 1 never heer’d tell on. I ast one of the chaps who done most of the talkin’. where he larnt all that, and he said out of books on awn-ing-the-olo-gy, or some such crazy name. Howsomever, when they writ me they wus a-comin’, I put in some time scoutin’, and foun’ good signs, so we made our plans to start the mornin’ after they arrived, and all hands turned in early. ‘The nex’ morrin’ I woke 'em at 3 o'ciock, and, after a heap of yawnin’ and stretch- in’, they got up and got ready, and, leavin’ the dogs at home, we made for ‘a place "bout two mile up the ridge on the other side. I foun’ the wind warn’t right for a location there, and we made a trip a long Way ‘round, so as the birds wouldn't ketch our scent, an’, after a heap of stumblin’ through the dark woods, I finally got the hunters placed at the end of a little valley where I was to drive the turkeys down. It was chilly, and many a nip o’ that good licker went to where it done the mos’ good. After fixin’ the fellers and givin’ all the necessary directions, I then had a long and hard trip to git the birds between me an’ the ambush. Well, after a while they commenced to git oneasy, and the bunch of 'em, there wus six, as $ remem- ber, startec in the direction of the valley, and when they reached it they fell to eatin’ the stuff we had dropped along there, and gradually moved to where the shooters wus in hidin’. It wus good daybreak when that bunch passed right by them city hunters, within twenty yards of ‘em, and moved on down the ridge. Well, I wus a-wonderin’ why in thunder I didn’t hear no shootin’, and when 4 got to the place I ast ef the birds hadn't passed there.” en the remembrance seemed to disgust the old man, but he continued: ‘The answer they giv’ me proved what 1 sed just now "bout city chaps not knowin’ a wild turkey, for the man who had read all atout 'em in them books and who claimed to know all about ‘em, anyway, said, innercent as a child, that a jot of domestic turkeys had just passed c! to them, but they didn’t shoot them, a they wus waitin’ for the wild ones. Well, they wus a sheepish-lookin’ lot o' hunters when I tole "em how s’prised I wus that along o° all their. talk, and readin’, they didn’t know a wild turkey when they seen him, and how they’d lost their chance after our hard work to git it. They wus too ashamed to stay any longer, so they went right back home the same day. An’ I never hear you city fellers talk ‘bout what you c’n do with guns without thinkin’ of how them chaps let a bunch of wild turkeys alros’ scratch dirt in their faces and git away ‘cause they thought they wus ia that belonged in somebody's barn- yard.” And the old man resumed his cud and attitude, while the conversation was skill- fully shifted to other subjects. ———__ An Earnest Plea. “Well,” said the employe of the brewery, rather roughly, “what do you people want around here?” “Aw, you needn't Meandering Mike. to drink.” “Leastways, we don’t expect ter git nethin’,” added Plodding Pete. “We come around ie> give ye some advice about how ter run yer business.” “I krow. You think we ought to give away things instead of asking money for them.” “No. I doh’t look fur no miracles. I know that ye've got avarice in yer system an’ there’s no use of anybody's tryin ter git it out. Ye've heard about what the gover’ment’s likely to do. “You mean about putting an extra tax 50 cents a barrel on bear? ep.” ‘Of course, we've heard alsut it.” “Did a feller I met a short time ago tell me right when he said there was water in beer. or was he just uryia’ ter make me unhappy?” “Of course; there’s water in all bever- ages.” “If that extry tax is put on beer it'll cost ye that much more, won't it?” “Certainly.” “‘An’ ye'll be tempted ter economize some- where if ye kin do it so’s it won't cause too much dissatisfaction.’ “That may be. “Well, mister, all we wanted ter do was ter impress on yer mind the fact that tke little things counts up amazin’. Ef ye git water from a well it means a lot vo’ wear an’ tear on a pump, an’ if ye take it from: the city they measure it off in a meter an’ make ye pay fur every foot oi it. Mister, if the time comes when ye feel that ye’ve got ter dispense wit somethin’, fur good- ness’ sake, leave out the water.’ —__-_—_. DETERMINING HIS STATUS. get scared,” replied “We don’t wan‘ nothin’ A Candidate for Suffrage Makes His First Appearance. The post office inspector just arrived in Washington from a three months’ trip through the south was narrating some of his experiences. “At the last election in a state which I shall not make it dangerous for me to re- turn to by mentioning in a public print,’ he was saying to a group of listeners, “I heard a funny kind of an examination at the polls. One of the very greenest coun- try jakes I think I ever saw came up and wanted to vote. ewes his first vote, and the judges held him up. ee AWwast to vote?’ asked one in a pleasing, off-hand manner. ‘What's that?’ said the applicant, try- to show courage. “ J dunno.’ ‘Are you a republican? “J dunno.’ ‘whats that un at's “ ‘One of the cold water people.’ ‘For washin'? = - “Gosh to. splinters, I ain't. that, I reckon.” “Very well,” said the judge, giving it up as a bad job, ‘as there isn’t anything else, you are a populist. “*a faint gleam of intelligence, as if some tamil! had broken into the iar name ‘in hie young replied, " JOHNSON” Written Exclusively for The Eventug Star. Unforeyeen Embarrassm A youth of melancholy mien was saunter- ing aimlessly down the avenue when an acquaintance saw him and hailed him. “Cheer up!” the friend suggested at ra dom. “Things might be worse, you know. “You don’t know what has happened to me, do you?” was the response. ‘No; but judging from appearance, 4 must be something tragic.” 4 “I used to be a careless, light-hearted creature, didn’t 1?” “Unquestionably. transformation.” “Social conditions. I never realized until this morning that it made any difference whether women were permitted to work in competition with men or not. Now I per- celve the terrible importance of the ques- tion which so many people are inciined to treat with absolute levity. I am engaged to marry a young woman whose plicity and, unworldliness were what chiefly at- tracted me. She wanted to show that she could be independent and carn her living if the necessity should arise; so she went into her father’s office.” “Surely there was everything to admire in such a spirit.” That's what I thought. But look at this. You're a bosom friend and I can confide in you. Here's a letter I just received in response to an invitation to go to the thea- ter. Suppose you turn from a contempla- tion of the change in ny demeanor and think of the awful contrast which this billet doux presents when compare] to lei- ters from the same source, which were gems of unaffected poe. Its the first typewritten document she ever sent me. ‘The friend took the paper and re: THOMAS TILBS, Esq., Washington, D. C. In response to ycur What has caused the My Own Dearest: note regesting my Co. to the the: I hasten to say that on no Acct. would 1 miss the pleasure of being with you. You speak of sweet visions of the future. I, too, have indulged in blissful hopes. But I have at times feared that they were en- tirely of my own imagination’s Mfg.; that I had been Bldg. castles in the air. You have no reason for thinking th> servant deceived you when sie told you L was out. You know I am always “ Acme 19 you. I was sorry to find yotr letter tinged with sadne: Remember that even if you are poor in wordly Mdse. you may be rich in affection; that whether your j9athway be one of joy or sorrow, some devoted being will be ready and proud to follow in your {t.-steps. Very respectfully, your own CLARA. “There's only one thing more for ker to do,” remarked the disconsolate youth. “What is that?” “Have some blanks printed and name with a rubber stamp. ‘Th | use of anybedy’s trying to hide away and | neglect the great social problems of the day. Sooner or later they are bound be brought right to his door. I used to sa ‘Wha he odds? Let them go ahead anc compete with men. It's no more than fair.” é “Have you altered your opinioi 8, sir. I don’t care about differ- ence it may make in wages. But I want to call a halt before we reacn a condition where a man will have to look twice to sure whether he has received a love Derision. I never will furgit it if 1 live @ hundred years! That fowl ‘ud keep us laughin’ ter the very verge 0° tears. She'd brought out lots o’ cbickey done her level best, An’ she made her mind up that she'd treat > allus the nest-egg like the rest! A monstrous lot 9° poetry an’ eloquence is spent In bringin’ to attention “Patience on a monnyment,” But I reckon she could put that statcher’s glory clean to roat— The hen that took a chiny egg an’ tried ter hatch it out, How often me an’ Josh an’ Bill an’ Z2b "ud an’ see The ol’ girl stickin’ to it, jes’ as earnest as | could be! She would fly at yer an’ holler, an’ there'd be the deuce ter pay, Ef ye tried ter save her trouble an’ take the egg away. Ah, them was gooi ol’ days! Us boys is widely scattered now. I claimed farms could be made to pay, an’ said I'd show ‘em how. My comfort’s in the children.An’ I’ve often to!d "em "bout The hen that took a chiny egg at.’ tried ter hatch it out. ter I keep a-sittin’ letters, now an’ thea, from all the boys. They allus tell me, candid, "bout their sor- sows an’ their joys. Each has some fine ambition that he nurses day an’ night, An’ euch {is sure thet, somehow, thing’ll come out right. An’ we'll all be jes’ as happy, though we won't be proud, as kings, time brings ‘rouad the joy ter which each hopeful fancy clings. An’ we often speak of boyhood days—the happiest, there's no doubt, An’ the ben that took a chiny egg an’ tried ter hatch it out. * every- Whe x * A Confused Psychologist. He had just dropped a nickel in the slot and was listening to the music with the inane look of enjoyment so incomprehen- sible to the disinter- ested spectator. He dropped the earpieces with a sigh and start- ed for the door. As he passed out he met a friend, who ex- claimed: “Hello! Been listen- ing to the music?” “I don’t know,” was the answer. “Well,” was the semi-serlous response, “what do you think about it?’ “It’s difficult to ex- press. You see, I don’t think I actually have been hearing music. I think I just think I have.” “You don’t mean to say. that you have doubts as to your own mental condition!” “Not at all. I'll come out of it all right.” “Why, what has happened to you?” “A lot of things. I have just had an idea which I’m inclined to believe explains a whole lot of marvelous events. This morn. ing one of the first things I did was to put a rubber disc to my ear, and by put- ting my lips to another rubber disc, hold a conversation over a wire with a friend miles away.” years. It's an ordinary occurrence for me to get Into a car that has neither a horse nor @ locomotive attached to it and ride around town.” to | “It's_all right. T understand the situa- tion. This isn't my first experience. Have you ever read about how a man will start in when the clock begins to strike 12 and dream a series of events which seem to cover half a lfetime before the clock has ceased striking?” ro ‘And haven't you had dreams in which you said to yourself “Pshaw! This is noth- ing but a dream. I'll wake up pretty soon? and th went right on dreaming, just the same?” ‘Many a time.” “Well, the only way I can account for it all is on the theory that some such thing is happening to me now. And, come to think of it, I guess I will ask you to excuse me. I'm going back and hear that machine play ‘Sweet Little Rosey Posey’ once more be- fore my wife breaks into the room and tells me that it’s 8 o'clock and I'd better hurry it I want to get down to the office in time.” * ** The Tarn of « Phrase. “Ward politician” is the name His townsmen gave him then, But he strove on with industry To lead his fellow men. He hasn’t learned much since he found Fame's wreath upon his brow, And drawn a public sal. vw. But he’s “a statesman” now. They said he “scraped the fiddle” when The youth ambitious played: Their teeth would chatter at the tones Which carefully he made. He found a manager at last, And wealth he gathers in. And now they say that he “performs Upon the vioiin.” Another had “the gift of gab” When he was still obscure; The neighbors said that much they'd do His silence to secure. But fortune smiled upon his work, And now, with glee intense, They sit for hours and talk about “His wondrous eloquence.” She was “red-headed” when, a lass, She dwelt in days of yore; They spoke of her as “freckled,” too, Since then her father's store Has made a mammoth fortune. And each old acquaintance fond, Says reverently, “isn’t shi A perfect Titian blonde?” * * * A Glad Prospect. Derringer Dan laid down the publication which chance had thrown in his way and gazed pensively 2 | to h'S surroumdir hat an invitation hmen:s passed holly unnoti m.ng brough: again. were artesy him ix Hi pre j ed, “e | happened to git liter- ve heard i erary | ys ab- | sen’ 7 an’ |sence my brain j drawed 2 bead on that I kin under- | powerfu! fascinatin’ te Pete, yarn whatsoever,” “It was ihe trath,” at was it about?” r I've got no use fur it,” exclaimed Three- | finger Sam. “Of course, serciety hez got to be pre-tec " the dots on a man fer b =n" hitchin’ him to a tree won't wander around and do it no a justifiable perceedin’. But war is ‘ous an’ brutal. This thing o' bi in’ away at somebody ye never was even interduced to is, to say the least of it, down right ensociable. Th> trouble said Derringer Dan, “that us feliers was born too soon. There ain't any doubt that war, as practiced up to the present time, is a fhighty low-down, coyote game o' gittin’ the drop on a total stranger. But civilization is advancin’ an’ in the course o° time it'll be jes’ as purty a sport zs faro bank or draw poker. The scheme as it now stands is to see which side kin do the most killin’. An’ as soon as one general gits convinced that the other feller kin slay more peop!e than he kin, common sense compels him to lay down ‘and wait fur another deal.” | “That's one o the most scholarly descrip- tions I ever heard,” remarked Broncho Bob, admiringly. “These here inventors has, accordin’ to that article, set theirselves to work to im- prove the implements of battle, so’s there won't be no chance of escape when they once git in motion an’ no limit to their ca- pacity. ‘Seems to me that's goin’ ter make war wuss'n ever,” observed Rattlesnake Pete. “That's what I thought. But the article says as how it’s goin’ to result in makin’ war so deadly that nobody'll have any- thing to do with it.” “It's a fairy story,” said Piute Pete, positively. “It’s easy enough to whittle few chips off a lead pencil an’ sit down an’ figger them things out. But I'll bet any thin’ I've got thet there's goin’ to be mi understandin’s between different branches of the human race right along to the end o’ time.” “No one says there won't be. But they'll be settled in a more gentlemanly way. AS fur as I kin make out, the battle of the future will be kerried on in something like this fashion. The opposin’ forces will hus- tle around an’ pervide themselves weth all the destructive engines they kin lay hands one ‘Won't there be no soldiers?” “Certain. Let’s ‘spose, fur instance, thet the United States has a war weth Spain, The two generals gits together, an’ the United States general he puts a certain number of men into the field. Then the Spanish general he has a feller play a tune on the cornet an’ sashay out to bring an equal number of men into the field, re- markin’, as is custumary on such occa- sions, ‘I call yer.’ Or if he hez the grit he kin bring out & still greater number of m in whick event he will say, ‘I see ye raise ye,’ or words to that effeck. Finally it comes to @ show-down, an’ the United was the is, 5 says: ‘I ain't got nothin’ but a pair o’ 16-inch guns, with cel- lulose armor on the side.” ‘I've got that beat easy,’ says the United States general. ‘I've got three Hotchkiss guns an’ two torpedo boats.’ Then the Spanish general merely says, “That's good,’ an’ turns, over ez much of his army as he happened to risk on the deal, an’ goes off to other stake. Of course, it'll take some to regulate the exact value of the and readjust the rules so’s to make ‘em fit the occasions as they come up. But i goin’ to be a mighty fine game, and wisht I could sit into it.” i