Evening Star Newspaper, July 24, 1897, Page 16

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JULY 24, 1897-24 PAGES. YACHTING COSTUME, ON A YACHTING TRIP ———— Design for a Costume of White Drill and Victoria Tartan. oF Se Te ENGLISH STYLES FOR OUTDOOR WEAR ee A Practical Idea Intended to Fill a Long Felt Want. AN ADJUSTABLE eee SKIRT (Copyright, 1897, by Wm. Du Bots.) Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. GLASGOW, July 12, 1897. The time for yachting and yacht racing “fs at hand, and costumers are forced to \Tack their brains for novelties which ad- | There to fashion, and yet bear the time- honored stamp of sportsmanship. We hope that the model of our natty yachting suit ‘will meet with the approval of the in- terested American public. Heavy white drill and plaid Victoria tar- tan (a new heavy colored cotton stuff) con- stitutes the costume. The skirt, closefit- ting at the top and flaring at the foot. is of white drill and is trimmed at the hem with a band of Victoria tartan three inches fn width. The blouse of white drill shows the latest loose-fitting model with box Pleats to give extra fullness at both sides of the front and at the center of the back. Large square reveres trimmed with a band of the plaid tartan open wide over a vest of white drill, embroidered on the chest with a red anchor. The vest continues as @ yoke at the back, and a large sailor col- Jar, likewise trimmed with a band of the plaid material extends deep down the back. A novel arrangement is shown in the sailor cravat of tartan, which, being fastened under the reveres, is tied in graceful knots over the bust, while the ends are tucked into the plaid belt. The very ample sleeves have a cuff of plaid tartan and the jaunty white drill cap is adorned in front with a button showing the yacht's private ensign. On the Gay Mediterranean. Cannes, as usual, is the gathering place for fashionable yachtsmen and women and | the blue waters of the Mediterranean are | alive with wh and graceful steam- | ers, and gay > order of the d While royalty hobnobs with the owners of the fleetest crafts. Our English women ure quite at home the waters and vi With their n sisters in skillfe handlir ler. The costumes we never so becoming and j: a son, and bright red has evidently Place of navy or e blue in yachting | suits. The skirts are worn rather shorter than the usual walking length. A rich costume was made by us for the young daughter of an American millionaire, who crosses the Atlantic yearly on his own | Deautiful steamer, to attend the Cannes Fegattas. It consists of red and whi cloth. The skirt of red cloth is cut in one with a short belt or empire bodice closing in the back and giving a princess effect. Several rows of machine stitching decorate the hem and white braided galloons run from the bodice downward along the seams. A white cashmere blouse pouches over the empire belt and forms a flat plas- tron in front, which {s embroidered with the yacht’s ensign in miniature at the chest, is edged on both sides with a narrow red siik pleating. The high collar of white cashmere has a full ruching of red silk. The sleeve is baggy, but not full, and is finished at the wrist by a band embroidered with a red anchor. The dainty zouave jacket to be worn with this costume is of red cloth like the skirt, and is cut in sack shape, reaching just below the top of the belt: it opens in front over the white blouse, and is fastened with white gal- loons. The large white sailor and wide, flaring cuffs are heavily braided with red, and the white cap is encircled with a gold band interwoven with the yachts colors. Red for Outdoor Wear. Red does not confine itself to yachting alone, but seems to be preferred for all sporting costumes, as it has the advantage over other colors by its resistance to the fading rays of the sun, besides softening the appearance of the complexion, sun- burnt or tanned by outdoor exercise. Red blouses with white polkadots, white linen collar and white silk cravat are worn on the wheel with white pique skirts gnd red or black high-laced boots. The accom- panying small round hat {s trimmed with red ribbon and bows. Bicycle skirts are worn much shorter in America than in Europe, which we con- sider a mark of common sense on the part of the American. Bloomers alone are ugly and disfiguring, but a short skirt combines elegance with propriety and comfort, and the woman who cannot overcome her prud- ishness had better not ride the wheel at all. Heavy linen makes a comfortable and pretty skirt for wheeling. A model which can be easily imitated at small cost is made of linen duck. The divided skirt is wide enough to hide the division at the back by deep folds, while the front has an extra gore to connect the two separate leg coverings, and is fastened on both sides with small white pearl buttuns. The shart zouave jacket of linen has a large collar and reveres decorated with pearl Suttons, and opens over a tightfitting sleeveless waist of white pique, fastening invisibly in the shoulder and under-arm seams. The sleeves are leg-o'-muttons, with white pique cuffs, and the pique standing collar is encircled by a red satin cravat. The white sailor hat is decorated with red satin ribbon and white quills. An Athletic Costume. Bloomers of pongee take the place of the underclothing, and if the weather is too warm to wear tan leather boots, heavy tan silk stockings and well fitting low shoes will look well and prove considerably cool- er. Even the equestrienne drops all con- ventionality during the dog days, and zp- ars ina blouse and straw hat The increased love of sport which women are developing has given enterprising cos- | tumers the idea for a so-called “universal sporting” costume, which is to fill a long- felt want. The short skirt of this costume can be shortened and adjusted according to the occupation of the wearer, so hat the woman who plays ten: or golf ready to mount her wheel or her horse sur nt her pl without changing her dress. The su s of this very practical gar- ment depends upon the stability of mind of the fair sex. lasgow.) To Prepare for an Ocean Voyage. From Harper's Bazar. The intending voyager should systemati- cally order her life. refusing to be worried or hurried, for at least a fortnight before going aboard ship. She should eat light but regular meals, avoiding rich or fat foods and much coffee, and take the juice ef a good lemon in a half-giass of water (without sugar) each morning ¥efore break- fast. If of a bilious temperament it would be wise to repeat this at night just before retiring. Regular sleep is just as essential as reg- ular eating, and care should be exercised to secure eight ch night for at least ten beginning the pas- the comfort of life on shipboar. The dining saloon of an cuigoing steam- er at this season is generally bright with flowers for several days after leaving the harbor, and the inexperienced traveler who has peen advised to chcose some old gown that “will do” for steamer use is likely to feel more or less ashamed of her ap- Learance, unless her habiliment be relieved from time to time by pretty and bright bodices. For wet or drizzling weather a tong, close-fitting ulster and cap or a felt Al- pine hat will be necessary; but ordinar: the traveler at this season is surprised at the warmth of the atmosphere prevailing in mid-ocean, and a rug is seldom required, except after sunset, although one should always be carried, in case of emergency. ——__ +e sage. Havi d these points, searcely a ful of an ocean voyage in May, June. July | er Aug for the great sea is truly a placid “mill pond ost of the time during these months, and cutgoing steamers are ¥ke hug he with, it m rea- sonably invalid here’ and ther generally speaking, tly clad, and full of aying games oftone kind 5 breakfast time until time to dress for dinner. A good flannel or serge dress made of ell-shrunken material is a necessary stand-by” for an cean voyage, bet two or three shirt waists fo: day wear end a 1 dressy bodice or two for use inner table add greatly to i be alarmed or fear- | What the Tramp Wanted. From the Kennebec Journal. A Portland clergyman has lost his old- | time confidence in mankind. There came | to hini the other day a man who said he | had not had a square meal in a week. The minister gave him a note to a hotel keeper, saying the man could have what he want- (ed, and that he, the minister, would pay | the bill. Friday the minister’ started out | to pay the vill, “How much do I owe for that poor fel- low's meal?” he asked. “Sixty-five cents,” said the hotel man. “What did he have that cost so much?” asked the unsuspecting minister. “Five beers and a Manhattan cocktail.” CONFIDENCES. Muscular Undergraduate—“Weill, to te] th iss Girton—“And do you like Browning?" e truth, I'd as soon read a time table!’ NEWPORT PIAZZAS An Excellent Place to Study the Latest Summer Styles, IF ONE BUT HAS THE ENTREE What Fashion's Favorites Are Wear- ing at That Famous Resort. MUSLIN AND GRASS LAWNS Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. NEWPORT, R. 1, July 21, 1897. I: HAS BEEN REC. ognized as discretion on the part of a man to say nothing and look wise, and on the part of a woman to say nothing and look pretty. All these pre- scriptions are hard to follow, but when the mercury is shouting “excelstor,” the last is the hardest. Din- ing and dancing, two of the favorite occu- pations of this summer capital, are rough on the complexion. Tennis at the Casino, golf at the club house or cycling on the avenue are even rougher. Many of the shrewdest of the shrewd women of Newport spend their time holding down ptazza chairs. Several considerations incline them to this way of life. The piazzas have something to do with it, undoubiedly. They are quite superior plazzas; as big as ball rooms, often; run- ning all the way around a cottage and screened with gay awnings or Japanese shades. They have all the modern im- provements, including complete furnishings more elaborate than used to be thought appropriate for the Interior of a summer cottage. A self-respecting Newport piazza provides tea tables, divans, cushion heaps, writing t: bles, lounging chairs, ete., until ON A NEWPO! ; one bold band of dark blue ribbon. 7 cerise pink silk and was worn with an ac- cordion pleated ly figured with c that the mania foPaccthait no milder word cause to be reckoned Wit! the popularity of ‘the * cordion pleating is” viceable on a piazza. and since one must’ weat it one must locate in the place wheré it éan be worn. ‘This particular pleated skirt was not hung over a silk slip, but ovér a Second skirt of un- figured pink muslih with a narrow pink frill at the hem. ‘Below this came a silk Petticoat, and the1whole effect was more summer-like and airy than can be obtained with the silk slipcalone A Leghorn hat trimmed with roses aiid a great white osprey finished a drock: that fulfilled the most essential requirements of piazza dress; to a man’s eyes it ‘looked simple, cool and extremely becoming; tata woman's up-to- date, a perfect work ofsart and not hotter than fine frocks have te be. Even More Striking. A second dress that was more original and in some ways more striking was worn by a@ young married woman who hi tartling- ly black hair. It was a white muslin fig- ured with blue and illustrated the daring of the trimmed skirt now- that it is sure of its position. Broad insertions of white lace were set diagonally from waist to hem, crossing each other to make enormous cheeks all the way around. The same in- sertions ornamented the bodice. A man might have said of this gown that it was more elaborate than the first. Any woman cculd have told him that it obtained its effects far more easily. The trimmed skirt has a great inning this summer. There was another one in pale cream muslin worn by a plump siri with a very white skin and molasses candy- colored hair. It was made over a yellow silk slip and the skirt was divided into panels of odd shapes and sizes by lace in- sertion and embro‘dered muslin. The effect intended and to some extent obtained was to give height and slenderness to the fig- ure. The corsage was made with a smart little zouave of yellow glace silk, not near- ly covering the bodice. Miniature sizes in zouaves are the only ones accepted now. Narrow frills of lace supplied the trim- ming. There was a full vest of embrolder- ed muslin, caught in at the waist with a swathed belt of white ribbon. Navy Blue and White. Other fetching costumes figured on the veranda of a yachting man of some note while the details of a projected cruise were discussed enthusiastically. A handsome hlonde who is at home upon the sea showed herself equally at home in a hammock in a clever arrangement of navy blue and white, : The skirt of white taffeta was cov- ered by three flounces, each bordered we e RT PIAZZA. its inhabitants need not even the wisdom of the fool, it is not necessary tor them to go in when ft rains. Incidentelly, a good proportion of New- port 1 3 command a magnificent view of the sea. But a more important con- sideration is the piazza gown. What are plazzas or views from piazzas compared with this simple yet sufficient fact that piazza dress permits all the daintiness and becomingness of evening dress to exhibit | itself without shame in broad daylight and | in the open air? Piazza dress calls for the delicate hues aad gauzy fabrics of the dancing gcwn; for the ribbons, the laces and the graces of the tea gown; for the beauty and the self-sufficiency of the re- ception dress and for the happy-go-lucky and fluff of the out-of-doors dress of summer girl. Granted t it com- all these, who wouldn't be “a piazza A Few Examples. Follow a few examples. The first three! were chosen from the costumes worn by the members of a gay house party assem- bled on one of the notable of Newport's pilazzas a day or two ago in honor of the; eighteenth birthday of the daughter of aj United States senator. The young woman, herself, who has brown hair and eyes and} a provoking piquant face not quite to be | called pretty, was dressed in cerise pink, the darling of fashion this season. She wore a blouse of pink silk muslin and cream-colored lace, the muslin being coaxed into narrow frills of fine kilting set across the bodice to humor the summer fancy fer horizcntal lines. Between the five airy frills were placed insertions of guipure. ‘The clese-fitting, ruched sleeves had a kilted frill down the outside of the arm, and at the shoulders were lace epauietes with muslin frills. This blouse was mounted on bedice was in blouse form, bagging a little over a navy blue beit, and there was a large artistic collar fastened a little to the left and finished with lace and a narrow band of blue. This dre-s was my favorite of the lot because it was as pretty as the rest and not spcilable in a hammock, a Tare merit in a dressy piazza costume. But I had not finished with muslins. It is no easy matter to have done with it this summer. The matron of the group was in white embroidered muslin, her skirt flo: ed with lace. The flounce was headed with three fine tucks and above it at { were bands of lace inserti blue glace and inclosed tucks. This :kirt, viously, was worn o plain muslin, below © cross over bodic: Of Grass Lawn. A pale blue grass lawn dress was of quite a different ordere The skirt was trimmed in Vandykes with puffs of lawn edged on either side with frills of narrow lace, and the bodice showed alternating tucks and frills. The sleeves followed quite the most popular whim of the moment, he- ing decorated like the bodice with frills and tucks, and dispensing altogether with shoulder puffs or epaulettes. Instead the arm trimmings were carried all the way up, becoming just a little broader and mere imposing at the top. The feature of the dress was a great white muslin fichu whose ends fell to the ground. I have talked about elaborate piazza dresses only, but this is not because I do not thirk a girl can look quite as sum- mery and be far more comfortahle in a smart jacket and skirt sut of pique, with heavy embroidered insertion and a silk skirt waist of pink, mauve or yellow. ELLEN OSBORN. nh was a silk slip. was lace trimmed. Hairpins. “Hairpins,” said a dealer,to a Star re- perter, “were almost exclusively manufac- tured in England and France until 1878, when we first began to make the goods in this country. There are new several large factories in the United States that turn out an article equal, if not superior, to the best finished foreign-made pin. The trade is such a large one that it tukes no less than 50,000 packages, eaci ccrtaining from twelve to twenty pins, to supply the wholesale demand daily ia New York alone. he machinery used is of a delicate and intricate character, as the small prices at which the pins are at present sold neces- sitate the most rapid und cheapest pro- cess, which can only be secured by auto- matic machines. The wire Is made ex- pressly for the purpose, and is put up in lerge coils, which are placed on recis. ‘The end of the wire is put in a clamp, which carries It to a machine while straightening it. There it is run through a_ machine which cuts, binds, and, by a delicate and iustantaneous process, ‘sharpens the pins. ese machines will turn out from 300 to <4 hairpins every minute. To economize it is often necessary to keep them working night and day. The most difficult part of the work is the emameling, which is done by dipping the pin in a preparation and baking it in an oven. Here is where the most constant and careful attention is re- quired, as ihe pin must be perfectly smooth |and the enamel have a faultless polish. The slightest particles of dust caase im- perfections and roughness, which is ob- jectionable and spoils the pin for the mar- ket.” ——___ Joaquin Miller and Browning. Joaquin Miller owed much of his English success to Browning, and here is his ac- ecunt of how he first came to meet the poet: ‘How I came to know Robert Browning and his kind or why fate, so terribly cruel to me asa rule, should have so favored me will to the end be to me a miracle. * * * Ard so I must ascribe it all to the great gocd English heart; for nothing in the world is nearly so warm as the inside cf the Engiish house and heart, and few things are so cold on the outs‘de, I had left Oregon almost without moncy and, cf course, without letters. Bret Harte, in San Franc!sco, had helped me get permis- sion to try to write letters for a San Fran- m the Franco-Prussian war, then raging, and with this and my rhyme. Iset out. * * * But finding no remit. tances forthcoming for my work, I accept- ed the conviction that my battlefield jetters had been tumbled into the basket unread (as, indeed, was the case), and so set bout the impossible task of finding a publisher for my poems; finally pawned my warca, and so got out 100 copies, called ‘Pa+! Pcems,’ published without a publish; * * * * When the notices of my 100 pcems came out I had my pick of London publishers. Two bright and thoroughbred Oxford gentlemen named the new book ‘Songs of the Sierras,’ and revised it for me, for my eyes had failed from an old attack of snow blindness in Idaho, aggra- vated by a winter of London smoke, anx- fety, hunger and hard work. * * * Mind ycu, no one knew I was poor. My poverty was my own business, na I Kept it to myself. There is bi on@ thing more vul- gar than a display ef wealth, and that is a display of poverty. : But I reckon that I was thought to beb rick, like all Ameri- cans there, as a rule, amd none but those two young friends kmew,mor did they half know, my sufferings from my blinding eyes. Soon after launching my new book these two young fri¢ndsicame out to see me, where I sat in darknéss and pain, and read my letters to me.« ‘Your fortune is made,’ cried one. ‘Hereids: a letter from } Trench, Archbishop;of Dublin, to meet Browning at breakfast.’svAnd this is the long-short story of:howsrl first came to meet Robert Browning.”> ——__ +4 -—+___ cisco paper fro: “So she scared the burgtare from her cottage.” : “Yes, I can well believe it.”—Life, SECRET OF SUCCESS Robert Bonner’s Solution of the Time- Honored Problem. HOW HE MADE A BIG FORTUNE Has Always Been Willing to Pay for What He Wanted. PROFITABLE ADVERTISING ee (Copyrighted, 1897, by Frank G. Carpenter.) NEW YORK, July 22, 1997. WRITE THIS LLET- ter for young men. It is intended for yourg business men who want to succeed. It is penned for poor boys who desire to get rich, and, in short, for every one who cares to study others in the hope that he may thereby get suggestions which may help him- self. It is the story of a pcor Irish boy who lended in New York with five dollars in his pocket, snd who ten years ago re- tired from busin+ss worth his millions. It is the story of a young man who started an enterprise out of his savings, and by his brains and industry increased his capital a thousand fold. It is the story of a business tan who spent more than a million dollars in newspaper advertising and who, wh.en the world laughed and wondered at his ex- travagance, went on to spend more. It is the story of a man who never owed a dol- lar, who never asked credit, but who throughout his life has benefited thousands and given-away tens of thousands. It is in short the story of Robert Bonner, the mil- lionaire founder of the New York Ledger. I give it to you as nearly as I can remem- ber, in the words tn which, in response to my questions, he told it to me. Bonner at Seventy-Three. But first let me tell you how Mr. Bonner looked the other night as we chatted to- gether ia his home on 58th street, New York. He has a face and form much like that of ex-President Harrison, but he Seems to be ten years younger. The fact is that he is ten years older than Mr. Har- rison. Mr. Bonner’s complexion is rosy, Harrison's is dead and doughy. Bonner’s hair and beard have but few gray strands, while those of the ex-President are as white as suow. Still Mr. Bonner is now seventy-three. He does not appear to be sixty, and he moves about with the energy of a man in his prime. He had spent the whole day upon his farm at Tarrytown, ir pecting the training of some of the vest trotting horses of the world, but he did not seem to be tired. During our cnat he went several times to rooms in the upper part of his house to verify mat- ters .o which he referred. As 1 was about tu leave I asked for his photograph. He went up again to get it, and when I of- fered him my pencil to write his name upon it, he said he preferred to use a pen, and that he would run upstairs to write it. 1 found Mr. Bonner’s soul as young as his bedy. He is in sympathy with young men who wish to succeed, and when I asked him as to his life and those elements in it which had contributed to his success, he answered freely. Discontent as an Element of Success. “I have had one principle in my life,” said Mr. Benner, “which I think has large- ly contributed to my success. I don’t know how I got the idea, but it is well expressed in a quotation from Ralph Waldo Kmer- ‘son, which reads: és “OQ discontented man! Whatever you want, pay the price and take it.” “I saw those words when I was a boy, and they took fast hold of my mind. 1 early learned that whatever I got had to be paid for either in work or money, and I have been willing to pay the price.”” “But you are naturally energetic, Mr. Bonner?” “No, I 2m not,” was the reply. “When I was a little boy I was the laziest mor- tal about the house. I hated to move. though naturally I was not deficient. 1 remember one story they tell about me. My family were Scotch Irish Presbyterians, and I was brought up upon the Bible and the Shorter Catechism. I had to jearn much of the Bible and was rather apt at quoting from it. One day when I was about eleven years of age they tell me 1 was lying in front of the fire enjoying my laziness when my father asked me to get some wood. I arose slowly and stretched myself and looking at the fire, exclaimed: “Job, fifth, seventh: ‘Man is bern to trou- ble as the sparks fly upwards!" Working for $25 2 Year. “This laziness of mine continued until 1 came to this country about a year later and until I went into a printing office at Hartford. Conn. Tnen I shook it off. 1 saw that if I wanted to succeed I had to work and I did work. My hcurs were from 6 in the morning until 6 at night, and my wages were for the first year $25; for the second, $35, and for the third, $45. Ot course 1 got my board and clothes in addi- tion. The paper on which I was employed was the Hartford Courant, the paper which General Hawley now owns. It then had a circulation of 500 copies. I know, for 1 had to wet down the paper every morning. “I soon saw that if I wanted to succeed as a printer l must learn all about print- ing,” Mr. Bonner continved. “Now the daily paper away back in the forties was different from what it is now. The most of the type for the Courant was set up during the day, a quarter of a column of space being left for the latest news. ‘This Was set up esrly in the morning just before tke paper went t» press. I wanted to learn all ubout press work, so I got up at 4 c’clock every morning and watched the printers run off the paper. I was anxious to help, but for some time. they did not ask for my services. At last I was told to get some water. I replied that I would do so if they would teach me to lock up the form. The next day something else was wanted, and I made them teach me how to feed the press before I would do it. So I went on from day to day always learn- ing something new until I had mastere: the science of press work. I was at this time only twelve years old, and it seems to me now that it took some nerve for a boy of that age to get up before daylight those cold winter mornings just for the sake of learning. “I was soon rewarded for my work, how- ever,” continued Mr. Bonner. “One dav one of the printers who put the paper to press suddenly announced his intention of leaving. He was told by the proprietor that he could not go until some one else could be teught to do his work. “Why don’t you take Robert,” said the printer. “He understands how to manage a press as well os I do.” So they gave me the job, and I was paid 12% cents an hour for my early morning work and I got therefrom about $3 a week.” Only Time He Ever Worried. It was later on in our conversation that Mr. Bonner again referred to this period-of his life. I bad asked him how he had man- aged to keep so young and whether he al- lowed things to worry him. He replied: “I never worry about busiress matters as a rule. I do what is before me and then let it go. There are oniy two days of my life which I can remember as having been full of worry about business matters, and these were when I was a bey doing that extra work on the Hartford Courant. One day the prcprietor told me that he thought some of the other apprentices ought to have a chance to make some extra money, and thet I must let one of them try the press work. The result_was that 1 lost my job and my money for two days. I can re- member tow how black life seemed to me then. The boy who took my place, how- ever, was careless and I ‘Bot back again. The boy Guring his day's work in setting up an article written by the editor made an.item of $1,500,000 read $15,000, leaving out two ciphers, This dis- trouble, ‘with the. boy” "who" took tay w my place was that his father owned three or four houses in the town worth a few thou- sand dollars apiece. The boy thought his father was rich and there was no necessity of his being careful, as the day would come when he would not have to work.” First Savings of a Millionaire. “When did you begin to save money, Mr. Bonner?” “Just as soon as I could,” was the reply. “You see, I got very little at the start. It took all I made to pay my expenses, ami I was almost of age before I began deposit- ing im the savings bank. My first deposit was here In New York. I had come to New York, you know, to practice my trade as a printer. Well, about fifty-two years ago I found that I had $70 ahead, and with that I opened a deposit in the Chambers Street Savings Bank. When I took the money to the bank there was one bad bill in it which the teller threw back to me. I can remem- ber tonight how badly I felt when that dol- lar came back, and how I concluded to soo: save another to put in its place. I did sav it, and saved more right along. I kept up my deposits in that bank until they amounted to a thousand dollars a week. One day I noted that the cashier had put in red ink an item of three dollars and some cents below my last deposit. This was my first interest. ‘Why,’ said I, ‘I did not have to werk for that,’ and I then first re- alized that money would make money. It seemed wonderful to me."* “The New York Ledger.” “How did you come to found the Ledger, Mr. Bonner?” ° “The New York Ledger,” said Mr. Bon- ner, “was in 1850 a little financial sheet known as the Merchants’ Ledger. At this time I was working in the printing office. We had an advertising solicitor, who liked the way in which I displayed his advertise- ments. He left the paper a little later on and became connected with the Merchants’ Ledger. He told his proprietor that he could get a great many more advertise- ments if I were to set them up, and it was in this way that I got an offer of a beiter salary from the Merchants’ Ledger. I took it. It was a small sheet, devoted to mercantile affairs, and it had less than three thousand circulation. Soon after I became employed upon it the proprietor wanted to sell, and I bought him out. I ran the paper for a short time as a mer- cantile paper and gradually turned it into a family one. One day I decided that if it had the best reading matter a paper of that class could have it would get a very large circulation, and I con- cluded to get it. I began at once to get the best of contributors and among others secured Miss Fanny Fern. Miss Fanny Fern was the most popular woman writer of that time, but she had never written for the newspapers. A book of hers had just had a circulation of some thing like 5,000 copies, and I think she rat looked down upon newspaper work. I first offered her $25 a column for a story. She refused it. I wrote her again and made the offer of $0 a column. This she alse de- clined, when the return mail brought her Robert Bonner. another offer from me of $75 a column. Upon this she said to a friend, “I like the sp:rit of that man Bonner, and I wish you would go down and see him.’ Her friend came and we eventually got together. “I then proposed to give her $10) a col- umn, but said I did not want the story to run over ten columns. She replied that she would write the story for $1,000, provided 1 would take it whether it ran nine columns or eleven columns, as she could not tell just how much it would run out. I agreed to this, and the story was published. The circumstances of the engagement were told, and nearly every newspaper in the country published my extravagance in pay- ing $100 a column for a story. I got $¥),000 worth of advertising out of the arrange- ment, and the people began to ask for the Ledger. Before this I had had troubl in getting the news stands to take the Ledger. After this they were glad to get a” “Did Fanny Fern write more after that?” I asked. “Yes; she wrote for me more or to the time of her death, both she husband, James Parton. Fanny Fern was mewhat like for you a genius. She had ability that of Henry Ward Beecher. Her mat- ter was always interesting and valuable” Stories of Henry Ward Beecher. ‘Speaking of Beecher, Mr. Bonner, he ‘0 wrote for the Ledger, did he not?” Yes," replicd the veteran editor. “He wrote a great dez| for me, and among other things his novel ‘Norwood,’ for which I paid him $30,000. “How did you become acquainted with Mr. Beecher?” I asked. “It was through a poem of one of his lady friends. He sent me the manuscript, stating that if I used it a cheek would be very acceptable to the lady. I wrote back at once that I had plenty of poetry, but tkat I wanted himself. I told him that if he would give me from a halt to three- quarters of a column a weck that I would pay him $2,000 a year. I sent a check for mK) with the letter as the advance sal- ary for the first year. He accepted it, and frcm that time until his death he wrote for the Ledger.” ¥ “What was the nature of his writings?” “They were to a large extent editorial replied Mr. Bonner. “Many of them were published under the heading, ‘Thoughts as They Oceir by One Who Keeps Hi Eyes Open.’ The first article, I remember, was entitled ‘A Cannon Ball in a Hat.’ It gave the experiences of a man who at- tempted to carry awzy a cannon bail in his hat. It described how the cannon bail grew heavier snd heavier, and how the fear of detection ate into the soul of the thief. A personal moral was brought out from this which struck heme to eve y rea.!- er. A great deal of the matter written by Mr. Beecher was not published over his own signature, and this was also the case with the articles of Harriet Beecher Stowe. it was C.ring the vears just preceding the war. We had then a lerge circulation in the south, and the name of Mr. Beecher as one ef the contributors would have lost us thousands of subscribers.” Beecher's $30,000 Novel. “Was not $30,000 a great deal to pay for a novel?” “Yes,” replied Mr. Bonner, “it was. But I think the venture was a good business in- vestment. The way I came to pay just this amount was rather curicus. I had made an arrangement with Edward Everett to write a series of articles for the Ledger. Mr. Everett was at that time the leading states- men of the country along certain lines. He was unxicus that Mount Vernon should be bought and preserved, and he was giving lectures over the country for the purpore of raising money for what was cailed the ‘Mount Vernon fund.’ I preposed to him that I would give $10,000 to the fund if he would write a series of articles for the Ledger. He accepted it. His articles were widely read, and the Ledger again was the mst talked of paper tn the country. I af- terward paid him $14,000 additional fer other articles. This was some time before I_ asked Mr. Beecher to write a novel. When I did write 1 first offered to pay him $24,000 for the stcry, er as much as I had paid Mr. Everett for his writings. Later on I increased the amount to $30,000, “Here is what he answered in reply to my first propnsitioa: wee “Plymouth Rock at a Council. “Dear Mr. Bonner: “I am almost dumb after reading your proposition ani must clear my head be- fore I say 2 word. “ “Signed}) HENRY WARD BEECHER.” “When It was announced that Mr. Beech- er was.to write the story there was a de- cided sensation in titerary 5 religious circles. Some preachers, and especially a Rev. Mr. Seeley, criticised Mr. Beecher's actions in making moncy in: that way. I wrote ol noes, on = mcg which was rather facetious, sent the proof of -It to Mr. Beecher, suggesting that if he thought well of it that he might give me Cleveland’s with its *‘rounded spoonful” as the “heaping spoonful of others, but it lasts longer and is more economical. @ recommendation whereby I could get a place on the London Punch. Within an hour afier my boy had left the office he me back with the following note: “My Dear Bonner: ‘I think you like to gobble up a minis- ter or two every year to aid digestion just as h swallow gra ston: aah ved me in one way and Mr. See . I like my way best. (Signed) HENRY WARD BEECHER. ‘Then on the other side of the sheet he had written tnis recommendation “To the London Punch ““Robert Bonner desires a: engagement en your paper. It gives me pleasure to testify to his good character. No other one man has made me laugn so much Just to look at him would make one f. scod natured, and therefore I saggest that his picture be published. Should he begin contributing to the Punch he would in less than two years own and edit it, but other- wise he may be trusted. (Signed) HENRY WARD BEECHER,’ “That letter g you some idea of how quick Beecher was. The most the two hours was taken up in the boys going from my office to Mr. Beecher’s hoase and back, and Mr. Beecher must have dashed the letter off within five minutes. He was very quick and was always full of ideas.” About Edward Everett. “What kind of a nan was Edward Ever- eur’ IT asked. “He was a much misunderstood man,” re- Plied Mr. Bonner. “You remember what Wendell Phillips once said of him. It was When Mr. Everett was in the Senate. Said Mr. Phillips: ‘I am speaking of the Senator from Massachusetts, not that polished icicle Edward Evereit, but that human gentleman Charles Sumner.’. When Everett was our minister to England Queen Victoria is said to have remarked that he was the only American gentleman she had ever met. Mr. Everett was more than a polished He was not a mere intellectuality, but he was a man of great i rs to me wer= full of He seldom slighted any one. He was high-minded, —conscienti patriotic Chri nm gentleman. “Was he a good writer?” I asked. “Yes.” replied Mr. Bonner. “He was the first scholar of the land, anJ still he was very careful of his work. He made no mis- takes in punctuation and some of h ticles he wrote and rewrote before he sent them to me. He_was glad to get sug- gestions and sometimes asked my advice to the publication of certain para- graphs.” Big Money for Advertisements. The conversation here drifted to adver- tising matters, and I asked Mr. Bonner to tell me the secret of his success in adver- tising. He replied: “I can hardly remember when I was not studying the advantages of different ad- ertising features. Whea I was a boy the w York Herald was very muelt criticised by the other newspapers of the country. I saw that the more the Herald was talked about the more the people bought it, and when I took the' Ledger I saw that I must get the paper talked about. I must not on- ly have a good paper, but the people must know it. I would not borrow, all my surplus in advertisin; ar- 000 for a single advertisement in y York Herald; at another I offered the Tribune $3,000 for one insertion in the daily, we: kly. T paid dur- ington ») for advertising, and in These sums in those as ten times the same mounts new, of my friends thought I was going At one time I paid § vapers for publishing in- stalin n story which ended with ontinued next week in the Ledger.” I did this once in the Herald, publishing two installments, so that the readers thought they were going to get the whole story in the Her and then at the close of the second it stated that (hey must look for its - dger. AH of this rapidly in- lation. fon the I my cir The Secret of Good Advertising. “One of the secrets of good advertising is to have your advertisements unlike those of any other man. If all advertisements in a paper are displa: this is equal to no display. My advertisements were always orizinal, they attracted attention and ihe publishers of the papers who were averse to 2 display objected to them. Once the elder Bennett sent word that I must use apitals. I answered that I would not and repeated one sentence an- ing a new story over and over again to the extent of several columns without a break. The letters were continued out to the edge of the column line without regard to the finishing of the words, and tt t day I had several columns of solid type in the Herald. The advertisement was about the most striking the Herald had « had, and afier that Mr. Bennett told me that I a er 2 could do ar I pleased. At one time Tribune refused to giv Weekly. Mr. Bennett sent word that the Herald would always give me all the space | wanted. I repiied that I would take the whole paper on the next Saturday. Mr. Bennett said all right and he published an additional sheet, gi ing me a page opposite to each page ading matter. I could give you fifty oth instances of advertisements which attract- ed attention, but this is enough. One of the great secrets of success I believe is te tirst have a good thing, and then to adver- tise it so that the people anot help knowing that you have it.” CARPENTER. of From Life. “What do you think of the charge that some senators of the United States gam- ble in rugar stock?” asked Gummey of Gargoyle. do not believe it.” “But the evidence seems very conzlusive that they deal in the stock on the New York stock exchange.” ° “Yes, I grant you that, but as for gam- bling, 1 deny it.” They don't gamble. They huve a sure thing.”