Evening Star Newspaper, July 3, 1897, Page 17

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JULY 3, 1897—24 PAGES. 17 BIRDS AND BLOSSOMS July Offers Much to the Lovers of Nature. MEACOWS ARE SPLASHED WITH COLOR While in the Woods the Rule Would Seem to Be Reversed. ee THE FEATHERED SONGSTERS Written Exclusively for Tae Evening Star. A S MIDSUMMER approaches, the dec- orative work of na- ture grows broader and broader in char- acter. The fine-point- ed camel's-hair brush gives way to the palette knife. ‘The meadows are splash- ed with color. Na- ture, the master-ar- tist, knows that deli- cate work would be lost in the rank th of green foliage, and so selects more brilliant colors and lays them on with a generous hand. With the coming of the eaisics and clovers and milkweeds in June the character ef the canvas changes; indi- Vidualism declines and effects are pro- duced mainly by the massing of the tlow- Groups of day lilies lift their orange- red heads above the grasses and weeds and color the spot they adorn so that it is neticeable from afar. The hedge nettle and wood sage and steeple bush ere:t their pink spires in such close ranks that the surrounding foliage is fairly overborne in the struggle for mastery. Clumps of wilé bergamot, scenting the air with powerful fragrance, add solid masses of purple to meadowland. While the innumerable blossoms of the shrubby wild senna com- bine to make great patches of bright yel- low as their contribution to the scene. ‘The pekeweed has little color to lend, so far as its flowers are concerned, but its bunches of dark berries and the bright red-purple Chewink. stalk vhich Thoreau so admired) » mean gift to the iegated land- The corymbed St. John's-wort fills is wi ow, spreading a coverlet the place of the snowy mantle ! Bro s Which has j with- wet lowlands, coverei way. where a hidden stream of pink . le the bread, yel- ds of the rosin weed n that lines the bank: n the button = with round ba 2 oms_ be’ on every side large hed peep of bloom, g stuck on k- nd so thie s one to see at s one invei; that the name by w it is known. flowers that are not ma: >mmunities, such as I ha’ difficulty in adding lors of the field. overcome Ives up to, gay dre Deptford appre- But they the trouble © course of the » about them. not wear striking hy does rt ellow- thickly along its ich a height that the of be- ut tt yvoms are in danger dows are are overgrown ke in down umty. stalk, two or thi very sum its like nettle, despite to the y and the I-all (which heals nothing), all blue-purple flowers opening seriatim upon its thick head, er may be responsible for this method of making its displ: se two bright-colored, but short-ste individuals attain "due prominence only by selecting such close-cropped fields thistle also chooses these lo- but not from necessity. Its beau- h-purple bloom, set in {ts neatly ccnstructed case, is usually high and con- spicuous enough to hold its own in ranker fi but vanit or exclusiveness, or both, the thistle to prefer a spot where {t seen in its entirety, bushy, leafy . prickles and all. Such, too, 18 com- the habit of the evening primrose, 4 very bushy plant. It seems to deem - id of foliage it presents ewhat gaze fully as worthy of attention » dainty lemon-yellow blossoms that &re left open from last night's blooming. self- A supp every or a of th ting me self-resp plants are respectable nbers of the communi! kingdom. sing from the grourd in the usual r, it gives in its infancy no indies 1 of the pos c which afterward display ife an innocent ard reputable s But how soon does it develop its sin r tendencies! While it is yet young and weak it humbly craves permission of son and sturdier plant to cling to It, t it may raise itself above the danger of perishing for want of sunshine and air. As this request is preferred by all vines end ts a small favor, granted with little in- nce, the desired permission is read- Perhaps the accommedating ben- or is slightly shocked when the young recipient of his bounty, after securing a good hold, applies to him a emall sucker, and by its ald arrests and appropriates some of the nourishment that he has drawn from the earth for his necessiti How- ever, he excuses the action because the of- fender is so small and £0 helpless, and he feels that he can easily spare this small portion. But when another sucker and an- other and yet others are applied, and he begins to suffer for lack of proper nutri- ticn, his estimate of the character of his guest undergoes a change, and when, at iength, the serpent he has taken to his Losom, finding that he can obtain all the nourishment he needs frcm that secured by his host, casts off his roots and depends for food solely upon this stolen supply, the hest’s surprise deepens into indignation and alarm. It fs too late. The dodder, thriving upon his ill-gotten support, waxes greater and greater, and his now impoverished benefactor has to work harder and harder, with diminishing returns, until, finally, the poor victim of misplaced kindness, stifled by the Judas-Iike embraces of the ingrate, and unable to se- cure enough of the fruit of his now unre- mitting toil to sustain life, succumbs and yields up the remnant of his wrecked and blasted existence. Such are the dodder and its dishonest means of obtaining a living. It is a pleas- ure to record that the living it gets 1s not a very good one. It has plenty of stalk, as may be seen by the most casual observer Cardinal. who visits the fields and streams of July; but this stalk is of an unhealthy color, pale orange, and utterly destitute of leaves. And the blossoms, though plentiful, are so stunted as to be almost microscopical in size. While, toward m: in the meadows the tendency 1s sing and away from individual- ism, in the woods the ruie appears to be reversed. Where during spring there were carpets of bloom we now find isolated blos- soms. Even the tick-trefoil, which in July commences to claim the woods as its own, gives the effect of separate individuals rather than masses, its dainty pink blos- soms being strung along tall wand-like stalks, and these being sufficiently remote from each other to stand out distinctly and separately. Perhaps the difficulty of flour- ishing as the shade of the forest deepens has by the law of the survival of the fittest weeded out the masses—the plebeian naturcs that are content to blend their personalities together—and left only those that are not willing to sacrifice individuality to ease. The tick-trefoil, indeed, is a thorough eristocrat. Not only is it charming to the eye during its blooming period, gra well-proportioned and dignified in bear: but when it has its seed carefully packed and ready for trarsportation it pre: its service any and all that pass, them perferm for it the labor of carrying se to other, less crowded Iccal- ere it will have a better chance With true aristocratic cisdain for tinctions of rank outside its own , It attaches its seed as readily to the ed gown of a king as to the coarse of the peasant. nt in habit, but less annoy- the starry campion. Its cultivated carnation is oms it stalk, the t in the its re- is the of ing in cousinship the to shown in the character of the blo: lifts up on its tall, spreading, fringed pets cup-like calyx, easily lationship. Smooth false high-sounding name borne these aris slender ne love anot by tocrats of the July woods, cf the exclusive belongs. ‘Tall, erect, ndiag, and with a pro- yellow blossoms, in mbling the foxglove of the gar- i shady hom», the em- bodiment of pride. More modest in mien s the spotted pipsissewa, whose blossoms, ke those of the false fo: x but unlike them exhale a delicious fra- grance as they hang their pretty white heads above their clustered leaves. These @ werthy membe: it s0- ciety to which haughty and un fusion of 1 hape res n, it stands in its Red-Eyed Virego. leaves are nearly, if not quite, as con- spicuous as the flowers, being dark green, with prominent white markings. They are evergreen (or ever green and white, to be exact), constituting one of tne choice bits of attractiveness to be found in the winter woox The same charm attaches to the leaves of the rattlesnake plantain, one of our July but in a greater degree. The white markings on the leaves of this plant, as they lie in a preity rosette on the ground, are very handsome, and invariably elicit admiration from the observer, whether in ch it holds bove them rather y in aspect. and that proud title of defcets. There is rence in differont mem- fly as is to be pt branch $s much dif of the same noted in mem! that th spictous little flowers are relatives of the gorgeous productions of the tropics that fill our conservatories, and that are so dainty that they disdain the earth from which their ancestors originally sprang, and upon which these humbler relations still depend, and feed upon such nutriment as the air affords. It is perhaps quite as difficult to realize that a tall-hairy plant now blooming in the woods, with somewhat weedy stem and foliage and bearing aloft upon the tip of each long stalk a gr2enish-white flower, is first cousin to the delicate wood anemone Catbird. of early spring, and only one or two de- grees removed from the high-born rue are- mon which transforms the April woods with its tender grace. But such it is. It is the tall anemone. It ts not as dainty as its cousins. Still it has a certain grace of its own, and an appositeness to the setting of the season in which it blows. This flower recalls many pleasant weodland rambles of last autumn, when its curious thimble-shaped fruit—it is sometimes called thimbleweed—was one of the characteris- tic decorations of the forsst. July has many suggestions of autumn. It brings with it torrid days and hot, breathless nights; but there are occasional days to be encountered as the month pass- es that are tinctured with a cool breath upder sunny skies, when early autumn seems to have fallen untimely upon the earth. The autumnal tints of the corymbed St. John’s wort, many of which have turn- ed before the month has departed, do not serve to lessen the illusion. And ing the later days the thoughts ere forcibly directed autumnward by the commence- ment of the reign of the golden rod. Gently and unobtrusively does this mon- arch ascend the throne—one woodland species, and gone or two of the meadow quietly unfolding a few blossoms. That {; all. But it is the beginning of a might? movement that will not stop or diminish, but will, instead, constantly increase untii the whole land is under the sway of the royal invader. Perhaps, too, near the end of the month the dittany, whose month is rightfully Sep- tember, will greet us with a few of those minute purple blossoms whose feathery habit and minty fragrance are so grateful to the loiterer in the shades of the woods of early autumn. These and many other autumnal hints are observable. But when as we wade through low meadows or damp woods we suddenly come upon a group of Turk’s cap lilies, with their numerous red flowers held up at arm’s length above the flood of foliage, we are brought to an abrupt realization of the fact that summer is blazing upon the earth, and we shall have to pass through the hottest of the fire before we reach the milder clime this side the confines of winter. For these are blooms of July, and are associated fully with the fervid rays of the summer sun. If, however, our ears are open as well as our eyes we need not penetrate the tangled jurgle of the marshy mead to be remind- ed of the season. For throughout July, or at least the greater part of it, the air is filled with a sound that, more than any other I know, is bound by association to the heated term. The summer will not Wane while the strident call of the locust rings through the land. Strident, buzzing, rasping, how it dominates the air! All other summer sounds are heard as through a telephone during its continuance. It is, perhaps, for this reason that the songs of the birds have less interest for us at this time. Yet there are many intervals when they may be listened to without their beving to pass through this medium, par- ticularly as evening is drawing nigh. And thcugh household and parental cares sb- scrb much of the time and attention of our feathered friends, yet the morning and evening devotions are strictly attended to by most of them, and many blithe and cheery utterances greet us as we pass among them during the daytime. The catbird, particularly, never loses an opportunity to mount the rostrum and ex- hibit his accomplishments when he has a chance for an audience, even thouxzh It be, as at those Wagnerian operas rendered be- fore a crazy king, composed of only one. Oftentimes he manifests a ludicrous inde- cision, anxiety and vanity, by turns upper- most, causing an alternation between alarm notes and snatches of song. He bas a Ustener, but does not know just what that listener’s quest may be in thg neign- berhood of his home and brood. the cat- bird is a well-dressed individual, his sleck, trim gray suit and darker cap of the same material being modest yet modish; but from the time of his arrival in the spring until we see the tip of his tail disappearing in the southern distance he manages to make himself the most conspicuous of the birds of the locality where he abides. The field sparrow, on the other hand, though one of the most indefatigable of the Juiy singers, is never obtrusive. His brief, disconnected phrases do not interrupt ob- servation of other birds; and, notwithstand- ing his fervor, his voice has not that dis- agreeable quality of filling all intermediate Spaces. Nor does he insist upon your at- tention by moving about from point to point, as is the habit of the catbird. He is quiet and gentle in demeanor, and a most charming musician. When the golden light of the western sky pours its mellow floods upon meadow and pasture land his clear little flageolet 1s thoroughly in harmony with time and scene. A film of sentiment falls upon the heart with the descendiag shadows, and the notes of this tender little scng echo pleasantly through <he_half- opened doors of chambers that are tightly sealed during the busy day. As twilight deepens, and the hills and valleys biend into one deep shadow, the peaceful devo- tional hymn cea But often during the still watches of the night the field sparrow, momentarily disturbed in his slumber, will utter a drowsy repetition of the strain and sink again to sleep. Not alone with this soothing lay does the night air tremble. The monosyllables ard measured tones of the yellow-breasted chat are also frequently to be heard. But ihe chat's utterances partake rather of the character of the roysterer’s disturbance of the peace than of anything of a religious nature. His regular round of a few choice phrases—choice, at least, from the chat standpoint of criticlsm—will be repeated, without a break, pernaps throughout the entire night, to the great annoyance, no doubt, of his immediate neighbors. ‘But what dees he care for the general opinion? He is stigmatized as one of the craaks, and he intends to utilize his reputation to the full. So, if it amuses him to sing by nignt as well as day, why should he refrain be- cause the rest of the day birds are sleep- ing? If they do not enjoy midnight revels, but are content to follow the beaten track and do just as their fellows do, and their arcestors have done, they do not deserve consiacration at the hands of one who is original enough to abandon old ways and strike out for himself. And thus does he assert his genius—or something else. Still the chat is not above imitation. A few days ago, as the cool gray light of the dawn was just stealing over the earth, I heard the vigorous call of a partridge. It was the first note of the morning concert of the birds, for 1 did not count ihe jerky dialogue of some chats which had begun before midnight. It was repeated at in- tervals, and with each repetition I notice with growing clearness, a false ring to it, until, at length, I found that the partridge Was not entitled to the honor I had corded him, as the ringing whistle was production of one of the chats. The c also admires the fluttering descent to the eccompaniment of song that the indigo bird so delights in of an evening. But as his heavy, unwieldy body slowly cumbles certbward while his grotesque song. fills e air with comical sounds, the effect of * performance on the observer is scarce- that produced by the graceful move- ac- th ly ments cf the indigo bird. As we pass near some tangled thick may hear a quaint song that, while it does et we not resemble that of the chat, yet it, because of the ludicrous emphasis of its utterance. Syllables are usually very in- adequate as a means of conveying an idea of the character of a bird song. But in some cases they tell more than would the printed notes; and the white-eyed virio’s phrases are of this class. wee-o-st, @rawling © before the final “st,” as though it were an afterthought. The song of his cousin, the red-eyed virio, is as common- place and unnoticeable as his is original and striking. All through the long summer day red-eye is busy in the woods; and his monotonous tones fall upon the ear with such regularity and constancy that they impress the attention as little as the chirp- ing of the crickets in the deep grass of the fields. His persistency 1s possibly the cause of his early retirement from the scene, at about 5 o'clock in the afternoon. His voice may be so worn out that he finds it impossible to join the other birds in their evening songs. But he is not missed. As the shadows of evening gather many and varied voices are blended. In the wocds the wood thrushes pour out their liquid notes; over the pasture rolls the rich whistle of the cardinal calling to his an- swering mate; from the stub of a mullein stalk comes the somniferous buzz of ‘he grasshopper sparrow; out of the blackberry tangle nearby rise the tinklings of the chewink; the chat on his high perch drops single notes or sometimes a string of them down to the earth below; catbirds scatter their sweet and harsh tones on every side; while over the meadow steals the vesper song of the field sparrow. And as the light fades from the sky and bats are dimly seen marking their jagged courses through the peaceful air, night sends a message from the distant forest in the first note of the whippoorwill. HENRY OLDYs. ———_. Bicycle Parties in New York. From an official report to the League of American Wheelmen it is shown that New York wheelmen will have completed. by 1898 a continuous cycle path of 100 miles, extending from Albany west, with a branch from Schenectady to Saratoga and Lake George, a large portion of which is now being built. There were 354 miles of cycle paths under contract to be built during 1897, of which 137 miles had been complet- ed, at a cost of $16,455, out of a total cost of $40,947. This is to be distributed as fol- lows: Chemung county, 15 miles, cost $1,600; Kings county, 5% miles, cost $3,500, already built; Monroe county, 120 mile: cost $14,000, already built 60 miles at a cost of $7,000; Oneida county, 45 miles, cost $6,200, already built 14 miles at a cost of $2,200; Oneida, 17 miles, cost $3,000, already built 6 miles at a cost of $1,200; Saratoga, 18 miles, to cost $2,000, not yet begun; Schenectady, 12 miles. to cost $1,422, al- ready built 7 les at a cost of $1,120 Seneca county, 15 miles, to cost $2,250, al- ready built 9 miles at a cost of $1,400, calls Husband—“Do you need anything for the house?” Wife—“The cook says there is not enough china to last the week out.”—Life. A Planisphere of the Heavens.—Showing the po: horizon July 3 at 9 p.m. sitions of the principal stars which are above the HEAVENS IN JULY Principal Constellations Now Above the Horizon. AN ANNULAR ECLIPSE OF THE SUN Measuring the Distance of the Earth From the Stars. OBSTACLES IN THE WAY Written for The Evening Star. HE PRINCIPAL | constellations now above the horizon at 9 p.m. are the Swan, or Northern Cross, the Lyre and the Eagle, in the eastern quadrant of the heavens; Ophiuchus, Sagittarius and the -Scorpion in the south; Leo, the Lion, now setting in the west; the Great Bear, in midheavens in the northwest, and overhead the Dragon, Her- cules, Bootes and the Northern Crown. The Swan (Cygnus) is easily identified from the arrangement of its six brighter stars in the form ofa St., Andrew's cross. The northernmost of these stars, Alpha Cygni, known also as Deneb, the “Tail,” is of above the averagg-of second-magnitude brightness and is “sométimes reckoned among the first-mag§itude stars. The re- maining five are, noffceably less brilliant, being barely aboye the third magnitude. Deneb, as its name implies, is in the Swan's tail; the head is*marked by the star Beta on the extreme right. This star also marks the “foot of “the ‘Cross. The arms of the Cross form the Swan's wings. The Swan lies in the thick of the Milky Way and is one of the richest of the con- stellations in stars visible or invisible to the naked eye, Alpha Cygni is one of the ten brilliant stars of the northern hemisphere upon which Dr. Elkin a few years ago made a series of observations with the Yale Col- lege heliometer for the purpose of ascer- taining their distances from us, and it is one of these—Arcturus being another—of which the “parallax” proved to be a quan- tity so minute that no trustworthy meas- urement of it could be obtained. Bright as this star is, it is apparently plunged in space to a depth unfathomable by any means now available to astronomers, and we must regard it as one of those stu- pendous suns by the side of which our own brilliant luminary would become a mere pigmy. ‘The star Beta is a beautiful colored dovble star, sufficiently “wide” to be sep- arated by even a small telescope. Its com- ponents are yellow and deep blue. it is the most splendid object of its class in the entire heavens. An Interesting Star. A small circle on the planisphere marks the position of a star, which, though of only the fifth magnitude, is far more in- teresting than either of the stars just men- tioned, 61 Cygni, famous as the first of the stars to surrender the secret of its dis- tance, or, rather, the first of which this discovery was announced, by Bessel, some sixty years ago. The star is visible ‘to the naked eye, and can easily be found from its position at one corner of a four-sided figure, of which the three other corners are marked by the three lower stars of the Cross. A little triangle of stars, brought out very prettily with an opera glass, will be found here. ‘The star in question {s the uppermost of the three which form this triangle. A telescope which magnifies no more than twenty or thirty times will show it to be a double star, its components being of about the same brilliancy and both of a deep orange color. Star distances are determined by mexs- uring the amount of change which takes place in the position of a star with refer- ence to its neighbors in consequence of the change in our point of view, in the course of the year, due tc the revolution of the earth in its orbit around the sun. The Giameter of the earth's orbit is about 165,- 000,000 miles. In the course of the six months required by the earth to go half way around this immense circle our posi- tion in space changes, of course, to this extent. Suppose that at the beginning of tne s1x months two stars, one of which Is ccmparatively near us, while the other is almost infinitely remote, are seen to be very nearly in range with each other. Then at the end of the six months the range will not be precisely the ‘same; the two stars will appear a little cléser fOgether or a lit- tle farther apart, as the edse may ha, the nearer star having: moved/apparently, and the nearer to us it ts thegreater will be the amount of this ‘shift‘of position, or “parallax,” as it is ealléd. This is’ the quantity which the astronémer aiming to find the star's distanée must measure. To give some idea of the difficulties involved in the measurement it may! be said that no star has yet been found of-@hich the paral- lax or annual shift of posftion is so large @s one second of angular measurement. One second is the angle included between two straight lines which, starting at a common point, diverge so slowly that at a distance of three and @ quarter miles they are but one inch apart, In order that they should diverge to a distance equal to the radius ot the earth's orb! r it can be shown geometrically What the “parallax” cf a star is the angle ‘which would be sub- tended by the earth's ‘orbit, viewed from the distance of the star—these lines must have a length of about twenty million mil- lion miles. This would therefore be the dis- tance of the star of -which the parallax was one second. That, of 61 Cygni is less than half a second, and its distance ac- cordingly is more than forty million million miles, or, in round numbers, 400,000 times the distance of the sun—a distance travers- ef by light in ebout.seven years, Immense Distances. A Star’s distance being known, some idea may be formed of Its size from the bril- Nancy of its light.-t has been estimated that the combined masses of the two bodies which form the star 61.Cygni would make @ single sun about half as massive as ours, which in their place would shine as a star of the third magnitude. The most striking fact in this case, however, is that although these two bodies appear to the naked and even when looked at through a glass as a single star, their actual distance apart is no less than five thousand million miles, The Lyre, now seen directly above the Swan, though a small and by no means striking constellation, is astronomically a very interesting one. Its principal star, Alpha Lyrae, better known as Vega, Is one of the three brilliants of the northern hem- isphere, its rivals being Capella and Arc- turus. Vega is a “Sirian” star, shining with the bluish-white light which char- acterizes the splendid Dog star, and like it giving a spectrum strongly marked with the hydrogen lines and indicating an. in- tensely high temperature. The distance of this brillient star from us is a matter about which astronomers are still at sea. A mean value of ten of the most trustworthy de- terminations, made previously to that of Dr. Elkin in 1888, makes its distance about nineteen “light years.” Dr. Elkin could ake but little of the star’s parallax, the “probable error,” which is always taken account of in measurements of great nicety, being larger than the quantity which he sifted out finally for parallax. The star may be, according to his observations, ro more than forty “light years’’ distant—not less—or it may be so distant as to s no parallax at all, the probability being that its distance is somewhere about nine-five light years. It goes without saying that if this is the case Vega is one of the giants among the celestials, far surpassing even Sirius in volume. The Double-Double. Just below Vega may be seen two stars of the fifth magnitude, which make with Vega a small, nearly equal-sided triangle. That on the left is Epsilon Lyrae, some- times called the Double-double. nm an opera glass will show that it is a double star, and a very pretty object it is for this instrument, while a small telescope will show that each of the components which form the double star is itself double. A larger instrument will bring into view three other stars, situated between the two which form the wide pair, making in all seven stars where the unaided eye sees but one. The pair of third-magnitude stars which form the southern corner of the triangular Lyre are Beta and C rae. The upper of the two, Beta, is variable, ranging from the third to the fourth magnitude in a period of about thirteen day particularly interesting from the fact that it has two maxima, or conditions of greatest bril- liancy, and two minama, at one of which it is less brilliant than at the other. This is a good object for the amateur star-gazer to keep an eye upon. About midway be- tween these two stars les the curious ring nebula, which, seen through a large teles~ cope, bears a very striking resemblance to one of those smoke rings which a tobacco smoker sometimes amuses himself in send- ing floating through the air. f mKnother noteworthy fact about the Ly te is that according to the observations of [lerr Stumpe the sun, with its family o: planets, is travelirg through space almost directly toward the center of this constel- lation. According to this astronomer our distance from the Lyre is diminishing at the rate of about eight miles a second, or 150,000,000 miles a year. The Planets. Mercury will be a morning star until the 15th and after that date an evening star, but it will not be visible during the -moath. Venus is a brilliant morning star. She shone with her greatest brilliancy as such on the 3d of last month. She will be at her greatest elongation from the sun west —45 degrees 44 minutes—on the 7th. Mars 15 an evening star, in the constella- tion Leo, moving rapidly eastward. It will be found tonight directly north of Regu- lus, one degree distant from that star. On the 25th it will be in conjunction with Jupiter, only 7 minutes—less than one- fourth of the apparent diameter of the rroon—south ef Jupiter, and the two plar ets can be viewed together through a tele- scope, presenting a very interesting combi- nation. Jupiter is an evening star, in Leo, eight degrees east of Regulus and moving ez ward, but less rapidly than Mars. It is still a fine object for the telescope. Saturn is an evening star, in the constel- lation Libra. It is at about one-third of che distance from Antares to Spica, ap- pearing as a first magnitude star of an orange yellow color. Uranus is ncw almost exactly south of Saturn, distant,from it a trifle less than two degrees. The planets can be seen to- gether through an opera glass. Uranus appears as a star of about the sixth mag- nitude, ¢nd is therefore just within the limit of naked eye vision. There are sev- teral stars here of about the same magni- tude, but the planet can be detected, from its movement, after a few nights’ obser- vation. Neptune is a morning star, in Taurus. The Solar Eclipse. On the 29th there will be an annular eclipse of the sun, visible in North Ameri- ca south of the 56th parallel of latitude; in the northern part of South America; on the western ccast of Africa, and in parts of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. The path of the annulus, about twenty-five miles broad, will pass through the central part of Mexico and through the West In- dies, striking Havana, in Cuba, and Cape St. Roque, at the northeastern corner of Brazil. At Washington the eclipse will be- gin at 8:39 a.m. and end at 11:11 a.m., east- ern standard time. About one-half of the sun disc—the southern half—will be eclipsed. ————— Mark Twain’s Political Contribution. From the Hartford Times. When Senator John R. Hills was running in the first district some years ago Mark Twain was called on for a contribution to the republican campaign fund. His callers were Russell W. Brown and Frank Bulke- ley, both of whom are now dead. They were tiptop republicans, and knew how to add to the republican fundg as well as the best in the city. One morning they visited Mr. Clemens and explained their errand. The humorist politely assured them that he was not giving money for political pur- poses. “But,” urged the visitors, “wouldn't you give something in the interest of Mr. Hills’ election? He is an old friend and the builder of your residence here. “Well,” replied the wit, “I'll give fifty dol- lars if Hills is elected. But he can't be. It's a democratic district.” The solicitors ut down Mr. Clemens’ name for fifty dol- rs in case of Mr. Hills’ success in the canvass. After Mr. Hills was elected Messrs. Brown and Bulkeley took the sub- scription book to Twain, and slowed by their conversation that they expected the amount. Twain replied that he had fof- gotten the whole thing, but called in his confidential clerk and directed her to draw @ check for fifty dollars. “What fund shall I charge it to?” inquired the zane lady. = iy “Corruption, corruption, instant qponded the humorist, Wwith «twinkle eyes. —_+o+—___. If you want anything, try an ad. in Star. If enybody has what ‘will get ay answer, ART AND ARTISTS The most recent painting from Mr. Carl Gutherz’s brush is a group portrait of Dr. Wilmez’s two cnildren, and is executed with the artist’s usual feeling for delicate color. He has devoted the same care to the composition and the choice of attitude that he would have bestowed upon a strict- ly pictorial theme, and has thus dignified his subject and elevated ihe portrait into a picture in the ‘fullest sense of the word. Mr. Gutherz is busy evolving some designs for a ceiling decoration, his style of work in mural painting being well known here through his desizns in the special reading room for the House of Representatives at the new Congressional Library. In a few weeks he plans to go abroad for the sum- mer, going to Minneapolis for several days before sailing. * * * Miss Bertha &. Perrie has taken up min- fature painting, and ‘n her initial por- traits has achieved results so aignally for- tunate as to augur well for her future suc- cess in the executioa of Mkenesses upon ivery. Mrs. Josepha Whitney is the sub- ject of the most recent of the tiny portraits that she has commenc2d, and even In its Present state the likeness Is telling and the color extremely pleasing. The river front has furnished ihe motives for all the outdoor sketches that Miss Perrle has done lately, and she has transferred to paper all manner of vessels from the four-masted ice schooners from Maine to the little pungies loaded down to the water's edge with their cargoes of cord wood. She is at present busy with a scene inside a pic- turesque boat house, in which the hale old boat builder fs shown repairing and over- hauling the “Sadie” with the practiced hand of long experience. the interfor is rich and pleasing, and the effect of Mght is managed in a very satis- factory manner. * x * The portrait of Mrs. Lothrop Bradley, which Mrs. Mindeleff painted a short time ag0, was so eminently satisfying, both in the likeness and in the handling, that she is now at work upon a replica of it. It is a water color portrait, executed with the skill that the artist always displays in that medium, and is especially good in its flesh tints. In miniature work the most recent thing that she has done ts a por- trait of Dr. Lincoln. fines herself pretty closely to portraiture during the winter months, but with the advent of warm weather she branches out | into the painting of figures, flower sub- Jects and other themes that she handles with facility. If nothing interferes with her plans she will go to Virginia B. a little later in the summer and after that she expects to make a brief stay at Berke- ley Springs. * * * Mr. A. B. Griffith has been devoting him- self almost entirely to pen work lately, and in his rambles awheel he caught many quaint little sketches Among these one is at once attracted by a comic little trio that he found by ihe roadside and jotted down. Two bowlegged little pickaninnies are shrinking back against a fence with the liveliest expression cf fright painted upon their faces, and the ragged little. dog beside them seems to be in a state of equal terror. The darkies are drawn in a very expressive way and the drawing is excellent as a character study. * * * Just at present one of the busiest of the local sculptors is Mr. Ferdinand C. Leimer, and quite a number of busts in various stages of completion are ranged about his studio. Among the farthest advanced are the likenesses of Senator Mason, Senator ntle and Ccmmissioner Butterworth. The portrait of Senator Stewart has been | modeled in the rough and the sculptor will commence work in a shert time upon busts of Senator White, Senator Tillman, Dr. Sunderland and a number of other prom- inent people. Mr. Limer has to a great degree that faculty so necessary for suc- cess in portraiture, the faculty of seizing once the salient points in the likeness, aud in those busts which approach com- pletion the expression is thoroughly char- ucteristic. In view of the fact that Mon- is Independence’ day it is especially fitting that this week should see the close of his iabors upon the colossal eagle that he has designed for the post office in Buf- falo. This patriotic emblem to which he is putting the finishing touches is to be be cut in granite, and as it has a bold dig- nity of handling will make a very effective piece of stone carving. * * * Today is the day set for Mr. E. F. An- drews’ departure for Europe. According to his usual custom, ke will let his brush re- | main idle during the summer months and will spend his vacation in visiting his many artist friends abrcad rather than in paint- ing. On the other hand, Mrs. Andre’ who will spend the heated term at Lake’ George, plans to do as much work as is consistent with an enjoyable and restful time. Miss Atwater, who is to occupy Mr. Andrews’ house with her father mother this summer, will be installed there in a day or so and enjoying the udvan‘ages that the large, well-lighted studio offers for her work. * * x Miss Anna Sands left on Thursday for Buena Vista and will enjoy the mountain air for the entire summer, dividing her time between work and recreation, as her fancy may dictate. One of the best things that she did before her departure was a portrait of her brother, which was regard- ed by all as an excellent likeness. She commenced work upon a head of her sister also, but did not have time to carry it to completion. * * * Since the clese of the Corcoran Art School a week ago Miss Lillian Cook has been able to call her time her own and has made plans for the execution of some work that will occupy her during the earlier part of the summer. The first that she will undertake is an altar piece, which is to be executed in such a manner as tu have the eflect of tapestry. It is for a convent in Wilmington and is one cf a se- ries of decorative designs illustrating the life of Christ. In September she plans to go out of the city for a time, and she will then devote herself to outdoor sketching. * * * In the canvases which he has painted during the past spring Mr. Edgar Nye shows his ability to cope with some of the most difficult probiems of landscape work. Some of the most successful of his studies are those made early in the year, when the purplish-gray of the leafiess branches had not given way to the green of foliage. Mr. Nye finds an especial pleas- ure in the effects to be seen on hazy days, and his studies are always full of atrnos- phere and light. He often executes wood interiora in a very satisfactory manner, but seems to be most at home when paint- ing wide sweeps of meadow with flying clouds overhead. * = * The small canvas by Ernest L. Major The coloring ofj Mrs. Mindeleff con- | ach | | | | obedient, and perfectly fearl that has been at Veerhoff's belongs ‘to his father, Dr. Major of this city. Ernest L. Major has made for himself quite a repu- tation in Boston, and these who know and admire his work are not coutined to any one locality. The painting referred to is @ portrait of a beautiful young woman whose head is turned away, so as to show hardly more than a pro * * * Miss Nicolay left Washington a short time ago for Holderness, N. H., where she expects to spend the summer in work ard recreation. The mountain views of New Hampshire offer a particularly attractive field for Miss Nicolay, and she always brings back a portfolio of interesting sketches, * * * Mr. LeGrand Johnston will have charge of the arrargement of the tableaux, which will be given at the entertainment next week to raise funds for the Cuban hos- pital supplies. There will be eight hta pictures, and Mr. Jchnston will pose tho young ladies and gentlemen who take part in very artistic groupings. Among them will be “The Dark Days of the Revolution,” showing Washington at Valley Forge, wiih Lafayette coming to his aid, led by the Spirit of France; “Harvesting Scet nm which the young folks will be in pleasant costume in the fields, and “The Spirit of Cuba Libre,” with a young woman as the spirit of Cuban liberty in a supplicating at- titude, and the United States, represented by four figuies, North, South, Hast and West, with their attention fixed upon her. Taney HUNTING FROM ELEPHANTS. A Recently Tamed Beast That Would Stand Any Charge. Mr. H. W. Seton-Karr, in the Cent tells of his experiences when “After Big Game in Africa and India.” In the latter country he hunted as the guest of the Ma- haraja of Kuch Behar. Mr. Karr says One of the first things the maharaja did after our arrival was to hand each guest a slip of paper, on which was written the neme of the elephant allotted to him for | Shooting purposes, which bore on Its back the structure known as a “howdah, to carry the shooter and his guns. As these elephants were necessarily large, and the howdah 1s high, the oscillation is much greater than if one were seated upon a plain pad upon the elephant’s back, or on one of the smaller elephants, which have a smoother gait. refore, went to the cover, upon one of the “beating” or phants, which afterward during the operations of the day were employed in a long line to fore the rbinoceroses and other animals out of the dense thickets in which they live. The howdah elephant which the mah: Ja allotted to me was named “S: Three years previous it was an un) wild elephant ranging at liberty the jun- gles of Bengal. It was a fine female, be- tween nine and ten fect in heignt at t shoulcer, with short but perfect “tushe projecting a few inches beyond the upper . There are other elephants in the ma- haraja’s stud which have been tamed more recently sul It was ver. ile and fore very valual as, for exam’ r ing the following three weeks it stood with- out flinching the charge of woun falo, Uger and rhinoceros, thus me to tzke a steady shot. Almc nts show great fear of the Indian rhin- that will not turn s their y, and fewer still that will stand the sh and short snorts that precede the charge. About breakfest time each morning the elephant told off for each guest was brought to th: ntand the howdah placed upon it, resting upon saddle composed of two cushions of strong sacking about six feet by two, which resi- ed in turn upon a large cloth covering t whole of the elephant’s back. T! how- dahs for sheotirg are light built of wood and cane work, and to hold six gun de. nd ain two seals, or rifles, threc All this is lashed on by repes passing under the elephaat’s neck, belly and tail. The weight which an elephant is able to carry Upon its back exceeds a ton for short distances they have been knov to carry as much as three thousand pounds, but for long marches half a ton is con sidered the limit. Many of the maharaj. elephants had fine tusks, but most are cut at regular intervals to prevent them from injuring one another. One or two of the fighting elephants, however, had pointed tusks. FROM POVERTY TO WEALTH. Quick Rise of a Half-Breed Pauper G - This morning, says a Seattle (Wash.) correspondent of the San Francisco Chron- icle, mma Kromer, a half-breed Indian, was a charity inmate of the City Mission. At noon she was informed that she had fallen heir to $40,000. By evcuing she was in a state of mind which caused her to wave newspaper men away and refuse to tell her story. The girl comes into her fortune through the death of her brother Victor at a hospital in Snohomish, Wash., last Sunday, and she will lose no time in haking the dust of Seattle from her feet. Five weeks ago she entered the City Mis- sion, and, al-hough she o! s to any Statement which indicates th was financially embarrassed, it was learned that she was taken as a charity case. Prior to taking refuge at the institution Emma tried to make her living by sewing, but it was a hard, up-hill ri and she slowly but surely became dis: rage Her father came to Puget sour rom Boston, Mass., many years ago, when Siwash In- dian women were in demand. It is said that he was a member of a prominent shoe firm in the bean-eating city, but that through a misunde: nding, family trou- ble, fear and disg: he migrated and never returned. After hing Puget sound he married an Indi After white women arrived he the na- lives by remaining true to his dus Three children were born. One of these, a boy, died many years ago, and now only the girl Emma is left since Victor passed away Sunday. Kromer died nine years ago, and the wife survived him but a short time. When Kromer died he owned the ranch on which part of Everett now stands, and his will gave most of his property io his son Vic- tor. The ranch was purchased by Henry Hewitt from the guardian of the Kromer heirs about the time a townsite company commenced to rush things. A considerable sum of money was paid, but exactly how much is not known. After Everett became a well-established town the Kromer heirs began a fight to recover the property, but after awhile the case was dropped. Victor Kromer lived near Los Angeles on account of his health at one time during the past four or five years. —__+e-_____ The Turks and Their Crescent. From St. Nicholas, When Philip of Macedon approached by night with his troops to scale the walls of Byzantium, the moon, then new or in cres- cent, shone out and discovered his design to the besieged, who repulsed him. The crescent was after that adopted as the favorite badge of the city. When the Turks took Byzantium they found the crescent in every public place, and, believ- ing it to possess some magical power, adopted it themselves. y bride.