Evening Star Newspaper, September 18, 1897, Page 17

FISHING IN THE SEINE |: + Furnishes Innocent Amusement for a Large Number of Men. SOMETIMES THEY CATCH SOMETHING eee And Every Year They Hold a Big} Public Contest, a a ARE WHEN Special Correspondence of The Eveninz Star. PARIS, September 1, 1897. GIVEN THE EVENING SEAR, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 1897-24 PAGES. 17 ing contest once a year. The competition cccupies three August afternoon,and proves elif one of the joys of the Parisian mid- summer. On the Sunday it is for the fishers of the Parisian Association, which rents fi the city the fishing right of the river wi the city limits. On Monday it is for the fiching ms from the tewns e ic the city, On Tues- two preceding days fish acainst each other for the final prize | of honor, given this year by no less a per- sen than the minister of public works. How It is Celebrated. On the Parisian day two hundred fishers, with rods carried at their shoulders, like so many bayonets, formed in line in the great open “Place de la Concorde. They were marshaled by the officials of the as- sociation, in the tall hat and frock coat, with rosette at the buttonhole, which is the correct dress on all official occasions. The fishers were in their usual attire when fac- ing the dangers of the river, straw hats and sack coats, or workingmen’s biduses, as their position in life might demand. The Parisian Association of Fishers of the Seine is a democratic body, and no so- cial distinctions bar the way to admission. HE PRETTY, BUT} Each of the members wore his badge, a dirty, little river | gold fish oa a blue, green or silver heraddic Seine, whieh flows | background, according to the rank which ' ss ... | the fisher holds. There are those who pay through Paris, siv- | twenty trancs—$i—each year, and have the ing occasion to so'| right to fish daily and nightly. Then there many handsome | are others who pay only seven francs, and bridges, is noted by | Must limit their fishing to Sundays and ha.” outsld roria | holidays. And yet others pay five or two % outside World | for still more restricted privileges in the more from its sul-| river which has made Paris—which has cides than its fishing | made France. There are some nine hun- facilities. Neverthe- | dred of these associated fishers in all, and there troubled hem out. They a and hard to eat when ¢: ‘§ among thems ‘arette stumps thrown to the thougntless were it sibility of keeping up a light. the sights of Paris to rest ys ainst the parapet of a bridge, ing over, watch the pref teur fis happy hours in tackle from the pas: ught. The: away FISHERS ON e fish in and iecle and up to date, hard to eatea, talk Ives, and would smoke them by t for the impos- It is one cf stomach a, lean- 1 and ama- their rescuing each other's ng steamboats, barges, they pay the city each year seven thousand and y francs for the exclusive rights of fishing in the Seine. To maintain their rights the state pays a patrol of four men and th2 association pays another. All others who cast their lines on the muddy wave are considered and treated as poachers, if they have a hook baited ior anything large than gudgeons, or if they put a line into the river toward the magic hour of sunset. If they use a net it is still worse, 2nd they are sure to be prosecuted when caught. These unauthorized fishers are known te the others as the “savages” of their art. Carp, which love the dirt, are most sought after. They are sometimes, it is said, found weighing from three to six unds, fattened on the sewage of this cos- mopolitan city. But the fishers’ stories are told rather of the eels which they often see THE SHORE. lighters and canal boats that make up the and seldom bring to land—five feet long, to say the least! siver's Hvelinea: Eke chances, are (enst- | 38% 206) leastt 7 oe oe aes prions an prec ris eee ae z efor: art o} omm: - mous against seeing any fishes cavent, || srioutes to’each ‘fisher who las entered hia Parisians say. These folks are a refined | name for the contest small wire circle. and luxurious tribe of loafers. He must hang the fish he may take on this € a year, however. in the last days of | in their little Ss together, watching how their line ston of one who bly as I have s: the floats that s s prospering. The Impres- a. the “friture de Seine” ttle meat and gudge: small, any bone: ds to iook is invaria- ur boarding house you may be given all, sweet with less meat and wire by the gills. It is too dangerous to trust the baskets and cans of the fishers themselves, with possible mysterious dou- ble bottcms. The band strikes up a noisy march, and the procession begins toward the fi ng ground, followed and surround- ed by hundreds of boys, and even by grown men, anxious, like all Parisians and Athenians, to see and learn something new and strange. Under the trees of the Cours- la-Reine, which Mar‘e de Medicis planted for her own queenly drive, the plebeian throng passes to the bridge of the Alma, th its giant statues of Napoleon's sol- diers bathing their feet in the river from the buttresses. Between this pi and the Trocadero a part of the beach and an equal space of the water frout out into the mest as transparent a river have been staked off. There no one cooked and altogether lost in batter when y ter, unless he is passed through by the chef has charitably covered up their | the committee. little weazened nakedne But crane vour neck over the bridge it ofte ur luck to see ilings as you will, the Interested Spectators. Against the embankment a buffet is fis take fish from the historic waters | spread, where the fishers may provide flowing fF the tower of se The | themselves with bottles of long and short ke . speaks in ha 3 = z % Sateies tant the. thee fishe drink and cakes and even bread, which is sham fishing for the si Ht direction: , to wade and cool their feveres of est schools’ little stear the tionary engines and the men at the washing places, where, bes soaping, wringing cleansed and dt all the day. ; chorus for the amusement of the fishes of the Seine. Different Kinds of Fishing. th er wheezing of To any one acquainted with the import- ns of suicide and ental drowning, together with the city of the river as a me ance the bu: ordinances thereto appe ning, ness of rescuing dead must seem more re on and dace ing. “with a view to huma the zeai’ of fishermen nt prejudice in a corpse than rescuing people, as they walk fife. W talk alon antry, conclude th nee, good folk of the wat side prefer to “finish off” the struggling ‘s und then to tow them in. This en error. They receive $5 for a rescue and only $3 for corpses. A month er more ago the oldest of these “rescuers” gave up the ghost at Bi!lan- During twenty years “Pere Joseph” had built up a fine reputation as a fisher of men between the times when he was hook- His best year was 1895, when he found forty- two dead bodies (some 0 francs), besides half @ dozen reseues for which he got re- wards in private, as well as the official Another family by the waterside, a mother and four brothers, have each re- court. ing “fritures” for the restaurants. sums. ceived medals and rewards. The mother one of these washerwomen working all day long within the curious washing shed be- law the Pont Neuf in the very heart of old Her specialty is to jump up from her work and dive for children who have in 1896, she rescued thirteen alleged fishermen, some “I do not waste my time,” she says, “and when they look as if they were acquainted with the art of swim- le out themselves.” Seine feel naturally the their util their right is the holding of a public fish- Paris. tumbled in. Nevertheless, boys, some men. ming I let them sting of all hts public doubt of u re mae hy oa rap horses are led Gown mining | the | er of the wo- ng, linen they add their note to the gay little nd living bodies unerative thyn chis The prefect of nity, encour- and river- nd fixed money rescued, quick er dead. a ne Paris which pretenéds that the reward is more and the river, by a grewsome pleas- according to the simple French tastes. A steamboat has been drawn up to the dock n the middle for the judges, and their sis- ters and cousins, and a few aunts .as chap- rens. The fishers draw lots for, place; rome enter the boats, which are stationed lengthwise, end to end, in a line parallel to the shore, and the others take their numbered places at a distance of two yards from each cther along the bank. The cor- net sounds for the last time—for music hath no charms for fishes—and all the lines are thrown together into the water. i the profane crowd from the embank- ment, a dozen feet above, forgets to chaff, and waits in silence. r seven minutes by the watch the crowd a i a! d e ing a leaps from the water. It is a bleak—one of those pale-colored fishes whose scales are used in making artificial ris. It is than five inches long, and so a savage might have caught it ithout offense of iaw. But it is the first, and it has a prize for the locksmith wha has taken it. Soon ether fish come to light mong all the two hundred hooks and line: nd the joy of the crowd knows no bounds w! one able-bodied fisher, after evident struggles, lands safely a rusted bicyels crank. Several thousand people have gathered round on the embankment above, under the trees, to the intense curiosity of the omnibus passengers, who stand up on top of the huge lumbering vehicles to look, and along the shore up to the very limits of the sacred inclosure. Inside there are types enough and to spare. One of the most worthy is a workman in blue jeans, -vith a pipe hanging from his mouth, and a cap on his head. He is made like the average Frenchman, sturdy, not tall, but with the legs exactly *he length of the body, instead of Anglo-Sax ~ longleggedness. He fishes placidly, unm. ‘ed by the running fire ‘of questions and witticisms from the crowd. There is a single woman entered for the match on the second day; but she stands no chance for the rubber of the third day. In the whole two hours she has not a sin- gle bite. another victory of blind fate over the cause of woman's rights in France. In one or two of the boats the fishers have brought their womanfolk and children, who help to bait the hooks with the earthworms and gentles used for the purpose. They can also hand up to the fisher In the end of the boat, where he sits intent on his line, the bottle of drink; and it is a Sunday out- ing for themselves. ‘When the Day is Done. a is li- Nothing could be prettier as a scene set- ting than the riverside and the bridges, black with people looking down to watch the cornet sounds again. Half the fishers mutter, “They are only beginning to bite!” But the committees are waiting to decide the prizes. The director of the aquarium of the Trocadero is one, another is the ar- chitect of the new bridge which is being built for the exposition of 1900. The first prize goes to a mason, who fishes only on Sundays, though it is his trade which is condemned to Sunday labor in this city, where the Sunday is for others the welcome holiday. He wins the prize by the nymber oi his catch—twenty-four small fish and one big carp. The next prize is for the heaviest single fish. It is a slx-ounce roach, which would go to show that the bi fishes of the Seine exist only in fishers’ tales. The one who has taken this prize is a bookkeeper. Then comes the chief prize of the day—for the greatest weight of fish taken altogether. It goes to a man from the gas works for a dozen fish, making up nearly two pounds in weight. At last year’s match all the 200 fishermen tegether did not take as much. But the Parisian Association, while the depopula- tion of France is going on, has repeopled the Seine; and on this Sunday the grand total of fish taken weighs nineteen pounds. The prizes of this first day are all useful lines of prime quality. When the third day comes, with its grand prize for the final champion, it is a gild-edged book, with an engraved diploma representing the Hctel de Ville and the different sites of the river where the Parisian fishes and rumi- nates and looks at varied and beautiful sights all the livelong day—and does no harm because he does nothing at all. The Champion. The champion is not a Parisian, nor even a fisher of the Seine. He comes from down tcward Fontainebleau, where there is a river in which he fishes for pike and trout. He already has three medals won in the pursuit of his craft, and the blue ribbon of his provincial society carries a rainbow trout with a gold ficater. He is neatly dressed, like the bourgeoise that he is, in a dark-colored summer suit, straw hat, anda neat handbag strapped round his should- ers. He has enormous light mustaches. un der a long nose and a keen pair of blue eyes. He explains his system of life. “You see, I am out at the first sign of daylight—by 3:30 o'clock. It is not because I like to ext fish—I never taste them. But there is a duel between me and the fish. I am not one to throw a net with meshes enough to take the fish by dozens. But I know where the gudgeon lives over the sandy bottoms, and the bleak near the wo- men’s washing places, the tench in muddy Spots, and the carp where the water is deep and the sun comes out, the trout in the still-ruuning mill ponds, and the pike where the water is cold.” STERLING HEILIG. see YOUTHFUL GRAY HAIR. Hairdresser Gives Her View of Its Cause. From the Chicago Inter-Ocean. “Have you noticed that so man: women have gray hair nowadays?’ “Have I noticed it?” repeated the woman hairdresser in a scornful veice. “Maybe I haven't any eyes. And let me tell you,” she continued, “if it wasn’t for the enor- mous sale of hair dyes, I uctualiy velieve there'd be ten times as many gray-haired women as we see now. I laugh often over the regular announcements that women have quit using hair restorers (which are usually dyes) and have decided that gray hair is becoming. It is my experience, in a pretty extensive observation, that nine wo- men out of ten dread gray hair, and fight its approach as they would a plague. Gray hair makes anybody look older, and we ail know it. I admit, it is often charming, softens a face wonderfully, but it adds years, all the same. When you see a fresh- faced, white-haired woman what do you think? Why, naturally, what a young face that old lady has. Not one observer in twenty-five reflects that there is a young woman with white hair. ut there are a great many?” “Oh, dear, yes. I have plenty of patrons whose hair is gray at twenty-five. The reason of it is plain enough. Nervous pros- tration, overwork, overexcitement, worry, all those things are prime hair bleachers. Women now try to learn everything. And they are crowding into professions, where they overtax themselves. There isn’t any need of it, either. A woman can work every day in the week, moderately, eat a wholesome luncheon, leave her cares at the down-town office, and grow young on uM I do. Nerves are the cause of wrinkles. mind you, and gray hair, and about every- thing that destroys beauty. If woman discovers that she is getting gray or hair is falling out, she must use her hair brush vigorously. The scalp must be kept healthy and full of blood by friction. Then she ought to have a tonic, something from the doctor, to put her system in order, and some local treatment from her hairdresser. There are plenty of good, reliable hair to: ics, which do not contain a particle of col- oring. Hair grows, you know, from deli- cate bulbs or roots. It is perfect nonsense to talk of doing anything for the hair as long as these are not in an absolutely healthy state. “The electric treatment is a fine thing. If anything can stimulate the scalp that will. The needle is applied to the roots of all the light, dry hair. It doesn’t hurt, and I've known it to arrest dozens of cases of gray hair cr baldness. No, women are not becoming bald—I don’t think they will. Usuaily the cause which produces baldness in a man will make a woman's hair gray. I don’t know why. Perhaps nature rec 1g- nizes the fact that women must have some- thing to pin their hats to.” “How about working by electric light cr artificial Nght?” “That won't injure the hair, ordinarily. But if the bulb fs close enough to the head to keep the hair heated, it will cause it to fall out.” “Do women ever bleach the hair white, thinking it becoming “No, not here. That's all a fabrication. There is a French process which will whiten the hair, but it is quite dangerous, and likely to prcduce an incurable scalp disease. No reputable khair dealer would sell the stuff withcut explaining this, and, ef course, not many women care to try the’ experiment.” “Oh, well,” said the doctor, “one reason thut so many young-faced, gray-haired women are seen is that it is a peculiarity of some nervous diseases that they maké people look younger. It’s a fact. One of my patients, who is suffering from nervous prostration, appears ten years younger than she really is. The face is relaxed, the muscles are not tense, and the mind is un- impaired. The least exertion brings a spark to the eye and a bright color to the cheeks. At the same time the hair be- comes quite gray. In fact, the woman is old enough to have gray hair natgrally, but she doesn’t look it. In the mal I think that women are becoming gray ¢ar- lier than they used to, and I think it is caused by nervous strain.” ——____-+e+____ Kodak Stopped the Train. From the Towanda (Pa.) Review. The fond hopes of many Towandians who would like to see this city made a regular stopping point for the famous Black Diamond express trains were -real- ized to a certain extent on Monday after- noon, when the eastbound flyer stopped at East Towanda. It isn’t every amateur photographer, either, who can get these speedy trains to stop and have their “pictur’ took.” On the afternoon in question a Towan- dian ‘who takes a great interest in me- chanical engineering and incidentally in bi- cycling and amateur photography went to the East Towanda crossing to get a snap shot of train No. 10. He had perched him- self on a little shanty beside the track and leveled his instrument when Watchman John Carmody, who is stationed at that point day times, asked to figure in the picture. Permission was granted, and the old gentleman oe He @ position beside the track, flag in hand. On came the flyer, with Engineer Pixley at the throttle, who, as he came to the East Towanda station, saw the red flag in the watchman’s hand, and with visions of piled-up freights before him shut off steam and applied the air brakes with vigor. About this time the amateur pho- tographer and the watchman realized what they had done, and with wild gestures ex- plained the situation, and the train sped on. Now, the question is, who is the joke on, the engineer, the pho! wher or the watchman? ————_+e+_____ Senator Morgan’s Slim Schooling. From the Galveston News. Senator Morgan’s old school teacher says that the Alabama “ambassador” went to school for but one year. His lack of edu- cation, however, did not prevent him from studying law at an early and becom- ing a successful practit er The Uterary. its for which he ® reputa- gained by reading in later years. y young TO RAISE THE WIND A Curious Character Who Makes His Living by Whistling, WAS A 87, LOUIS WHARF RAT And Has Traveled All Over the Western Continent NATURAL GIFT FOR MUSIC HISTLING MULE” Sam Coleson speut half a day in Wash- ington last week. He made a stop-over here between trains. He was recognized, as he paraded Penn- sylvania avenue, by a Star reporter, who first made his ac- quaintance at the famous Cliff House, near San Francisco, = = and who saw him last, a little over three years ago, on the Streets of Buena Ventura, in the United States of Colombia. Coleson has been a street whfStler aJl over America, and sev- eral times out of it, for twenty years. In the United States he has chiefly worked the country from the other side of the Al- leghanies to the Pacific slope. His short stop-off here was the first time he had been in Washington, and he was bound for New York, which queer town he has also suffered to get along without his nightin- gale notes up to the present. In the mat- ter of apparel, he was gotten up -regard- less, according to the race tout standard, as-he promenaded the avenue. = “I only wear sporty goods like these when I’m making long jumps,” he said to The Star reporter. “When I anchor in a town for business my make-up js a rusty black sack siit, a bum hat, ‘skates out at the toes, and a hard-luck face. No crowd’lt stand for it if you pass around the jingle- hat when you're putting up a good front. You've got to dress the part. They want to see that you're on the hog before they cough up their coin. I let ’em see ‘t; I’ve studied this thing, you see, and that’s the reason I’ve done pretty well at it.” The final werd of Coleson’s nickname was bestowed upon him because his ears stand out from his head like those of the animal beloved of the goveriment, and be- cause he can move them backward and fcr- ward as easily as winking. He is red-nair- ed, shrewd after the manner of the pave, and is probably somewhere near thirty years old. His whistling is really remark- able. He told something of his own stcry in an unrenderable patois, both of the levees and of the pave. A Wharf Rat. “I’m a St. Louis wharf rat,” said he, “but I never went over the road for swiping brass fittings from the river boats, like most of the rats I was raised alongside of. I took to whistling early enough to keep out of any trouble like that. When I was only five years old I could whistle pretty nearly any old thing. Guess I got it from my mother. I lost track of her when I was four years old, but I remember well enough what a fine whistler she was. The old man told me before he croaked that she used to whistle us kids to sleep, in- stead of singing, like most women do. “Anyhow, by the time I was five, and had just begun to sell papers, I could whistle anything that came my way in the shape of a tune, and the bigger kids down on the levee used to make me whistle for ‘em by the hour. When I got ured and quit they'd chuck me in the river, and when I got hack on dry land I was glad enough to whistle until they let up on me. It was good prac- tice for me, but I couldn't see it then. “I was selling papers out at; Shaw's Gar- dens one Saturday afternoon, and whistling to keep on edge, for I was stuck bad, with a whole armfal of first editions, and I felt weepy, like a ten-year-old does. I noticed a crowd gathering around, and I went on whistling. It had never struck me very hard until then that I had a good thing in this whistling game, although a lot of peo- ple had often asked me on the street where I'd learned some of the things I whistled. But this Shaw’s Gardens crowd kind of put me onto the thing, and I whistled for all I was worth. I passed around the jingle cap when I was through, and it was a big pull-down. That settled it. I didn’t sell any more papers. I worked the parks and beer gardens for a couple of years in the summer time, and in the winter I hit up the hotel bars and the places where the sports got together. It was a good thing until the cops got to chasing me around. I had a-plenty of dust during those two years to jam around and play the races with. Play the ponies when I was cnly ten years old? Well, I guess yes, and beat "em out often, at that! On the Mississippi. “When the cops got on my trail for whistling all the spare change out of folks’ clothes in St. Louis, I took to the river boats, doirg the trips all the way down to New Orleans, and made a fat thing of it. I worked the boats for two years. The summer was the best time. I'd slip into the smoking room or the card room and begin to whistle mellow things to eatch the ears of the guys half jagged. After the whistling had attracted their atten- tion they'd ring me up for a whole night's work, and I'd whistle the whole layout of soggy, rummy things that I knew, like ‘Schubert’s Serenade,’ and such _thirgs. They'd always produce up to the limit, the pipey mugs, full of wine and stuff, that I'd work this way. I had a barefooted, one-suspender make-up on the boat trips that alweys did the trick, and when I was asked any questions I always threw "em a ballad and waltz bout bumming my way down to my aunt in New Orleans, or to my sister in St. Louis, if it was an up trip. The officers of the boats never gave me away—because why, I bought "em_off. “Well, after a couple of years on the big river, the regular passengers on the lines began to get on to me, and although they continued to give up some when I whistled new ones all the time, the rake- off didn’t size up at all with that it had been. The last trip I made on a New Or- leans beat had a queer sort of wind-up. The old Robert E. Lee was the boat. She was within an hour’s run of New Orleans, and I was up on the hurricane deck giving ’em moonlight music. Among the things I started to whistle was that weepy ballad, ‘Marguerite.’ I hadn’t gotten into the dozenth bar of it pefore there was a big yell from a swell-looking guy sitting by the starboard rail, and he..was just about to jump overboard when; a couple of men with him grabbed him. ;He threw such a fit then that they had to tie him up. His two friends explained to,the other passengers that the man had recently been let out of an insape asylum at Mem- phis, and that he had gone daffy over the death of his wife, whose name..was Mar- guerite. And here was I, kid-like, (but how'd I know?) spieling off that moist tune, for the sake of the quarters I got from the mugs holdi: girls’ -hands! I shelved that song atter ‘that. Down in Honduras. “The first time I hit up e foreign country was when I made the run from New Or- leans over to Honduras, and Ilearned a music ‘I whistled for ’em in this country didn’t go over there at all. I had been working off the ‘Sweet Violets’ and “White Wings’ kind of trilling with the river pee ae ticking close ican music with a swing to it. tha! of whistles ¢ whole lot over there. I'd have, starved to death if I hadn’t. You see, the kind of performed by a man who had been prac- ticing that one air from infancy. “What's the name of it? I don’t know. I suppose I can whistle about seven mil- lion of those dago things, but I don’t know the name of a one of them. . 4 ‘Well, I learned _a lot of that kind of whistles at the Tegucigalpa opera (the opera house was a big ’dobe joint, by the Way), and it was the only thing that saved me from going to work. I sprung ’em on the greaser people that walked around the plaza after night, and they didn’t do a thing but throw me all the coin they had when they heard me, a red-headed gringo that knew only two words of Spanish— ‘sabe’ and ‘manana’—whistling the hard, trilly tunes that they’d been raised on. To them it was just like as if a dago just landed would walk along here now and whistle ‘Rosie O’Grady’ and ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ without a break. Whistling in South America. “TI saw that this was a pretty good graft, and so I kept right on south, learning as I went along about all the tunes that were ever written in Spanish or Italian. I hit up pretty near all of Central and South America, whistling only o' nigh’ when the people down in those parts wake up, after sroozing all day, and I had piastres to burn all the time. The only time I got the worst of it down in that country was when the bare-footed tin soldiers in La Libertad, Salvador, soaked me into a dun- geon for a couple of weeks. They suspected me of doing a rubber-necking act there for Antonio Ezeta, the chap that made a busi- ness of building up governments for the rake-off he made in afterward wrecking ’em. The United States consu! got me out of that mess. “Those sun burnt people down in Cen- tral and South America were easy money I'd give ‘em their national airs with varia- tions wherever I went, and, as those peo- ple down there are always scrapping among themselves, and full o° gun cotton; the whole lot of them, this patriotic whistle gag went with a rush, and I never passed the tinkle bag without making a good haul- in. The national air business came near getting me in a scrape down in Chile, though. I went to Santiago, Chile, from Lima, Peru, at a time when those two dinky little countries were trying to tear each other apart. I had had a. regular mint, whistling the Peruvian national air and a lot of military rum songs while in Lima. When I go to Santiago, in Chile, the streets were full of hare-hoofed soldie: all of “em chock-a-block full of mescal, an all yelling the Chilean national hymn. I picked it up from them. By the time I was ready to spring it on the Esplanada that night I was a little dopey from trying the Chilean brand of mescal myself, and what did I do but start to whistling the national air of Peru, with about 5,000 people stand- ing around that hated Peru worse’n cobra: And the whole 5,000 of ‘em seemed to hear the tune all at once. I had to make a run for it, and I never got or tried to get @ peso out of Santiago. A Good Graft Here. “I made a couple of trips to South America after this, but I was always glad to get back to the United States. There’s a better graft here, after ali, anyhow. I've been working the smaller towns in this country for the past couple of years—towns of the size cf Cleveland and Indianapolis and Denver and Los Angeles. _ People’ve got time to give you an ear or two in the class F towns, and they’re dead easy to work. I get ‘em when they're sitting on their front steps or in their yards after dark, as the folks all do in towns like those I’m talking about. I stand out in the inid- dle of the street, kind 0’ lost in the gloam- ing and looking very much on the bum, as I explained, and whistle melancholy and lonesome tunes. There's always some guy around who’s feeling. soft and woozy, and he calls the attention of the others to my whistling. All the rest of it’s ea: L whistle ’em anything they want, paying most attention to what the women folks like, and when I pass around the hat they all of ‘em come up, nearly always with white metal, for it don’t seem like as if they care to give a white man copper junk like they throw to dagoes. "m going to play the swell rum joints in New York this winter. No, I'm not afraid of getting the dead face over there. New York people may be pretty foxy, but I guess they can be conned like other people. If I can’t whistle the dough out of their clothes, they’ll be new ones on me.” ee FREE FARMS FOR YANKEES. Venezuela Offers Land and Transpor- tation to American Emigrants. From the New York World. An emigration bureau has been opened in New York by the Venezuelan government. It is under the charge of Dr. Manuel V. Toledo, formgrly commissioner to the world’s fair, and already a number of emi- grants have been sent to Venezuela through its agency. The bureau is now at No. 54 East 2ist street. The bureau was founded in March under two special acts of the Venezuelan govern- ment. Its intent is to help settle the vast tracts of unpeopled country in the rich val- ley of the Aragua, and to encourage emi- gration advantageous offers are authorized by the government. Under the act authorizing the bureau the government officials are now endeavoring to arrange a reduced rate of transportation for all emigrants. The act, in the first place, authorizes the payment of a sum equal to 80 bolivars for the transportation of each adult and half that amount for the transportation of minors. In addition to this a sum equal to $4 is offered for the payment of the adult’s passage to the sea- board. At the moment the bureau has been unable to carry out this arrangement with emigrants, for the reason that it has been unable to contract with the steam- ship companies that ply between here and Caracas. It hopes to have this arrange- ment completed shortly. In addition to this transportation bounty the government has authorized certain land concessions of the utmost value. To each emigrant will be given free not less than five acres nor more than six acres of fertile land. Titles and deeds will be made out to him, and the only stipulation is that one-half the land must be cultivated with- in a period of three years. Another ad- vantage offered is that the emigrant will be permitted to buy at a merely nominal Erice any other of the public lands he may desire in any amounts and in any locality. ‘The valley of the Aragua, to which par- ticular atténtion is paid by the Venezuelan government, is the most arable section of the country. Up to the present time the chief difficulty in working it has been the lack of transportation. The Krupps of Germany have recently invested large capi- tal within its limits, and are now building a railroad that will tap it from end to end. The terminal points of the road are Caracas and Valencia. It is hoped by the government that American farmers will respond to the call. The Venezuelans would prefer to have Americans take up the farms, and other inducements may possibly be offered. It would be easy to fill the Aragua valley with Europeans, but the Venezuelan government does not look with composure at this. It will make every effort to get Americans, and, until failing there, will not invite Europeans. ——~-e-_____ Average Height of Men. From the St. Louis Globe-Democrat. During the war measurements were made of over 1,000,000 men in the United States army, and it was found that the average height of men bern in the United States was 67.8 inches. According to Topinard, the average height of Englishmen, Scotch- men and Swedes is 67.4 inches; Irishmen, 67; Germans, 66.2; Frenchmen, 65; Danes, 66.2; Russians, 65.4; ne 64; Bushmen, Laplanders, American Indians, Patagonians, MOSAIC OF JERUSALEM. OF HISTORIC VALUE A Mosaic Map of Jerusalem Has Re- cently Been Uncovered. MADE IN THE FOURTH CENTURY Important Buildings of the Ancient City Clearly Shown. SETTLES MANY QUESTIONS Written for The Evening Star. A map of Jerusalem, in mosaic, over 1,500 years old, has been found at Madaba, in Palestine. It was discovered in uncovering the ruins of an ancient church about to be rebuilt. The entire pavement of the old chureh was a mosaic map of Palestine, many farts of which had been worn away or broken off. That part containing the city of Jerusalem was more or less perfect, only a part of the wall at the southwest corner being missing, and the well-known scholar and archaeologist, M. J. Lagrange, who lives in Jerusalem, has just written a description. After a minute examination of the mosaic, it is pronounced of great historic value, dating from the fourth century of the Christian era, and representing the Jeru- salem of Hadrian and Justinian. After com- paring it with ancient descriptionsof the holy city, and with Jerusalem as it now exists, the learned scholar has identified the gates and buildings on the map. The northernmost gate, flanked by two towers, is undoubtedly the “gate of Nablous.” Thence the wall is marked in green with a black border. Following it to the south- west, four towers are found for the de- fense of the wall, and a gate with two towers, in the exact location of the present “Joppa gate.” Above the second tower the Wall rises to a great height. This is the citadel which protects the street running north and south. After this citadel, evi- dently the “tower of David” mentioned by authorities of that time, the walls resume their natural size. The map is damaged on the southeastern side, where a gate is found in the actual location of the “golden gate.” Then a gate with two towers ap- rears, to which a broad street leads up— this is the “Gate of Marianne.” On entering the “Gate of Nablous,” we see a beautiful open place with a tall col- umn in it. The column has long disap- peared, but the name remains, the gate being called Bal-el-Amoud, the column gate. The “place” is small now, resorted to chiefly by nargileh smokers, and was chris- tened by a missionary ‘Loafers’ square.” Church and Palace. Passing southward, down the great col- — onnade (some of the columns are still to be found), a building with a broad front of triangular shape and a red roof is found. This !s “The Martyrium” of Constantine, a great church of that period. Then we see a yellow dome. This is the church of “Aa- astasius.” Following the colonnade to th: end we find a gate. But there are thre: other gates around it, leading southward. This is evidently a remnant of the ancient first wail, the newer quarter having been included by the wall of Hadrian. Zion and Siloam can be reached by the gates alone, being beyond the wall. After passing through the gate we are in Zion, and this is made all the more certain by the street which begins at the “gate of Joppa.” It has no colum:s, but is marked in white and yellow on the mosaic. It starts due east, then turns end ru parailel to the main street, leading up to a large building, and then apparently turning to the west. Today the street which begins at the “Da- mascus gate,” after having 2 “St. Sepulchre” on the right, continu as the wall, parallel to the street from the “Joppa gate,” and passes through the American quarter, both streets meeting op- e the Zion or Neby Daoud gate. The large building in the extreme south, between the ancient wall and the later ad- dition, can be nething but the “Church of Zien” cr “The Last Supper.” But there is still another church in this section, and, judging by its location and proportic it can be none other than the magnificent basilica of St. Mary, the wonder of Jus- Unian’s time. Returning to the fale and passing out through, we find the palace of Pontius Pilate, or the place where it stood, for Mr. Lagrange does not think that “St. Mary's” is to be identified therewith, for it stands on a hill, while, according to the pes: authority, the h@use was In the val- ley. as far Selves Many Problems. This mosaic seems to solve the vexed question of the location of the ancient “practorium,” which is placed by this . 7 in the space between the two col- onnades. This is apparently not a church, and there is a church northeast of St. Sep- ulchre. It is remarkable that the general cor- respondence between this ancient mosaic and the Jerusalem of today is most marked, even thcugh not exact, for many changes have taken place in that city dur- ing the last 1,500 years. The city is still divided by a long street ranning north and south, having St. Sepulchre on the west. A street is still to be found running toward the southeast, with a fork at the Ausirian hospital, one continuation running south, the other east. The arch “Ecce Homo” was probably located at v, having been an arch of triumph and not’so massive as the towers at the gates. The temple wall unfortunately does not appear in the mo- saic. The strik:rg correspondence of the division into three quarters, the upper, the lower and western; St. Sepulchre south of its eastern gate and north of the western: the western gate having its tower to the south and being on a line with a church now replaced by the mosque Electqsa: the church of Zion on a ine with that of the Resurrection, but farther west: the column giving the modern name to the northerly gate; all seem to point to the care a’ exactness with which this mosaic was made and its great value as an historic monument settling more than one vexed question. ART AND ARTISTS. ‘The question as to who shall be at the head of the art section in the American exhibition at the Paris exposition of 1900 is now agitating art circles. 1t will be a pest demanding no little diplomatic tact as well as artistic skill and judgment. The name of John La Farge has been suggest- ed for the position, though it is not known that he will accept it. * * * It is expected that Mr. W. B. Chilton will return to the city from his vacation next Tuesday. : * Bir. “Parker Mann bes been occupying his new cottage in East Gloucester, Mass. this summer, and with the improved facili- ties for work which its pleasant situation on Eastern Point affords him he has pro- duced a collection of admirable studies. Recently he held a joint exhibition wit» Messrs. Walter Dean and Will 8. Robin- son, the pictures being displayed at the latter's studio. With one exception Mr. Mann's contributions were all in pastel, a medium which is very well adapted for setting down the gray effects in which he delights. Most of the subjects which he showed were scenes about the moors near the seashore, though there was one picture made along the wharves, a study executed in subdued colors, but very rich in its effects. There is a notably good atmos- pheric effect in a misty subject on the moors looking seaward. The gray, mois- ture-laden clouds hang low over the earth and in fancy one can feel the damp, pene- trating wind which stirs the leaves of the stunted bushes on the moorland. The foreground is accented with occasional touches of bright color, where flowers lift their heads, and the monotonous grayness of the subject is thus happily relieved. The largest and most pretentious of Mr. Mann's pictures presents a view of a small stream winding through broad expanses of marsh grass. Among the other studies there were some very. good examples showing storm clouds, and in all of the pastels the sky has received especial attention. * x * The Art Students’ League will open its doors for work on October 4, and its ses- sion will last until the 2Sth of next May. This begins the thirteenth year of its ex- istence, and from the present outlook bet- ter luck seems to await it this year than ever before, all maxims regarding thir- teen to the contrary notwithstanding. Everything that has been offered here- tofore will be in the course this year, and a glance at the names of the instructors is sufficient evidence of the thoroughness and quality of the teaching. There will be classes in preparatory antique, in charge of Miss Louise Tracy Hull, and in advanced antique, under Mz. E. C. Messer and Mr. Edward 8S. Siebert, who also have the life classes, Mr. Messer. the women’s life, and Mr. Siebert that for men. Mr. Siebert has the portrait class, the water-color is under the direction of Miss Bertha E. Perrie, and Mr. Messer has the composition class. The sketch class this year is in charge of Miss Hull, and the course in decorative and industrial design will be continued under Miss Sallie T. Humphreys, gnd will be made more of a feature than last year, as there is an increasing demand for work of this kind in many important industries through- out the country. Miss Louise T. Hull is the only new instructor, and is probably a stranger to most Washin; She son, Mrs. Flora Lewis M. ‘ Mathilde Mueden. sig ord ag Mr. Edward Siebert” has been in town most of the summer up to last week, when he left for a short stay at Paxson, Va., to get a breath of country air and do a lit- Ue sketching. Mr. Siebert will begin an oli canvas this winter, representing a scene in a New York eating house by night, for which he has already made several studies. * * x The decorations in the Congressional Li- trary have been all but completed for some time now. There are, however, a few pieces of brcnze work yet to be put in place. In the gallery of the rotunda there are still two statues lacking—those of Co- lumbus and Michael Angelo, ‘he figure of the discoverer of America has been fin- ished by the sculptor, Paul W. Bartlett, and sent to the Henry-Bonnard Bronze Company of New York city, by whom it is now being cast. It is expected that it will be here in less than two months. The ‘model for the figure of Michael Angelo is still in the hands of Mr. Bartlett in Paris, but is about ready to be sent to this coun- try for casting. There are also a couple of nymphs tc be placed in the niches on the right and left-hand sides of the Roiand Hinton Perry fountain at the west front of the library. These are also being cast and will be put in within a few weeks. The figures for the clock in the rotunda have been finished by John Flanagan, and are now being cast in Paris. The oniy other piece of work remaining is the brorze doors for the right-hand entrance en the west front, the work on which was cut short by the untimely death of Olin L. Warner. The doors have been finished by Herbert Adams as nearly ble in ac- cordance with the original designs, and are now at the foundry in New York for cast- ing. They will be shipped some time this fall and put up as soon as possible. With these few exceptions the decoration the Ubrary is finished, and the superintendent expects that by the beginr of the new year at the latest this remaining work will be here and in its place. * - Mr. Carl Weller ig returned from East Gloucester, where he spent about ten days in sketching. Before going there he made a brief stay in York, Me., and at both of these places he secured a number of interesting sketches. He worked en- tirely in water colors, and he is very suc- cessful in making quick studies in the me- dium and in expressing a great deal wit a few deft strokes of the brush. When at Gloucester he visited Annisquam and made a couple of good sketches of that pictur- esque little town. * ** It is expected that the Corcoran Art Gal- lery will open again on Monday, after be- ing closed to the pubiic since the middle of July. Dr. F. 8. Barbarin, the curator, is in town, and has been at the gallery for the past week getting things ready for the winter reopening. There have been no new pictures purchased during the sum- mer, and very few changes will be made with the arrangement of the old ones. Some that have been on exhibition there will be moved, but the rearrangements will be slight. * There was some unexpected gelay in se- curing the new exhibition hall of the So- clety of Washington Artists, on Connecticut avenue above L street, owing to the fact that at the last moment the owner of the property desired to insert in the lease a HA F i i i i g 4 i Hd : !