Evening Star Newspaper, December 11, 1897, Page 18

Written for The Even'ng Star. “In twenty-three years of constant walk- img about the streets on my rounds of duty.” remarked an observant policeman to a Star reporter, “I think I have picked up a few ideas about people and things generally ard Ihave come to the conclu- sien that the character of a person can be read pretty well by hi§ manner of walk- ing; that their habits and disposition are marked very clearly by the way they ap- pear on the streets. A careless person, man or woman; a slouch or a sloven, walks that way, while those who have aspirations or energy will indicate in the way they get about. A firm, determined person is likely to be firm and determined in his or her walk. Likewise the fop, the flirt and the person whose greatest stock is show gives evidence of it in many of their street movements. In the case of the determined, energetic, the people who get there, as it were, their walk is marked by rapid, long steps, which are the same under ail cir- cumstances, while the fops and flirts change the style of their walk to suit the prevailing weather. Ore hour they will walk one way and the next hour their manner of walking will be entirely differ- ent, and at all times uncertain and unre- Hable. On the other hand, those who walk easily and gracefully are very liable to be easy and sraceful in everything else they do. I don't think I could even put any trust or confidence in those who have a shuffling, secretive manner of walking or ‘hose every step looks as if they boring to get along at all. This Kind of persons cannot be depended upon, as workers or anything else. They are naturally sneaks and deficient in character generally. If they are onest they com- mit their wrongdoing in a sneaking sort of way, and are never bold and open about it. A heel a character. while those who do the most of their walking on the forward part of their feet are fond of sport and inclined rongly toward the sentimental things in life. The springy walkers are the happy but are not strong mentally. The alk in a way that spositions. I don’t think I ever knew of a thief or habitual wrong- doer of any kind that stood straight up on his feet. The hest time to study the character of people by the way they walk is at nicht. You can then get your impre: sions from what you hear instead of from what yeu see. = * ee * “The responsibility of a parent during the sc rm of the child is a great one,” ned a gentl whose sen has recently obtained some prominen in a leading university in New Englan1, “though many parents do not realize it Until it is too late. While I do not want to encourage any child to relax any proper effort toward advancement or any parents to hesitate rection, their child in that di- I would » like to have them d that there is such a thing as them. Crowding is detrimental ation and injurious to the child in It is well enough for children the various grades in the public s they come along from year to to as hools year, but if it harpens that a child for natural reasons gets a little behind the pro- cession it is better to remain in that position rather than that the chiki is crowded to keep up. In the ordinary course of things, a child that may be few marks behind tm ene month or term often more t makes it up the following month or te I think, also, that a per- ehild is a misfortune. There are chil- who are ‘perfect’ in atte: nee, in studies and in deportment as far as the school record goe who are by no means perfect thing else. Let me illustrate by re: that came under my pe sonal ervation. The victim was a fine- looking young child was not a physically ugh intel- lectually he had no @ ity in keeping » with her class, and t sreate atte t » should not have atte well enough physi to de so, but her parents had become so crazed over her re-crd that she was crow4- i te school well or not or so in a month would have interfered r record of attendance, and the would not listen te it, though it weuld have benefited the girl. She was, therefore, forced, though forcing, as her paren: well she was to enter Ith broke down expense aginary could give a few ing in any shape tet ee “Herring Hill, Georgetown, is as old as Georgetown itself, and as famous,” explain- ed an old resident of West Washington to a@ Star reporter, “and though herrings are rot to be picked up there nowadays, there was a time when nearly all the herrings cavght in the Potomac were sent there for sale. Georgetown, as many know, was a full-fledged city a half century or more be- fore Washington was ever thought of. When Davy Burns and others were tarm- ing the land on which the Executive Man- sien, Treasury, Post Office and Interior De- partinents now stand, Georgetown was al- ready in its glory and had a mercantile pesition known to the world of ‘those who xo down to the sea in big ships.’ An estu- ary of the Potomac, a good-sized bay, ran up as far as where the M street bridge now stands, and many is the thousands of ships that have unloaded there. In the spring- time, it was the fish market of the entire strMounding country. Not only were the herring and shad sold there, but all the curing and smoking were done there. All of this was done on the high land on the hill, and Herring Hill came honestly by its proud name, though it is now nearly a half mile from the Potomac proper.” ** eK * outcome in the Klondike regions r will be of great direct interest to © persons in this city than many may suppose,” said a rather heavy investor in claims and mining properties to a Star re- perter, “as it will doubtless be to many others in other cities. It is difficult to make any calculation as to the amount of money that has been subscribed to the stock of the very numerous corporations and syndicates that propose to make the venture of their lives next spring. The fact is there is always a great amount of money ready to engage in out-of-the-way enter- prises, and the Klondike has captured much of this. The great majority of the Klondike investors in this city have, it {s true, only put small amounts in their risks, but the combined sums make a very large amount. In a quiet kind of a way the clerks in the departments have been indus- triously solicited and they indulged as freely as they could stand financially. The orly thing they can do now is to walt until their companies can get to their claims and begin work. In less than a year they will have learned that they are ‘in it, or are ‘in the mud." * eee * “Two of the state statues to be unveiled soon in the national statuary hall, at the Capitol, Benton of Missouri and Kenna of West Virginia,” sald an old employe of tue Senate to a Star reporter, ‘:will have more local interest than ordinarily, for the rea- son that those whose memory is to be hon- Iker is generally a solid kind of | An absence of a | THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1897-296 PAGES. ored lived so long in this city. Benton was @ senator for five terms, and wrote his book, ‘Thirty Years in the Senate,’ in this city, in his rooms on C street between 3d | and 4% streets northwest, in the row of houses which is so famous as the Wash- ington homes of so many distinguished men in former times. It was Benton's strong liking for Washington as a home which brought about his defeat for re-vlection. He believed that the schools of Washing- ton were betier for the education of his children than those of any other city in the ; country, and they were all educated here. It was from here that Jessie Benton ran away and married Lieut. Fremont, then | an officer of the Topographical Corps of the | army, who afterward became so distin- guished as ‘The Pathfinder,’ making the earliest explorations of the Pacific coast, and afterward being rewarded by a nom- ination for the presidency of the United State: Benion was the leader of Gen. Jackson's adherents, and was one of the first ‘gold bugs’ of American politics,though the political nickname given him was that of ‘Old Buliion.’ He was one of the party on the ill-fated war steamer Princeton, when the explosion occurred on her in the Potomac, which resulted in the death of two of Jackson's cabinet officers, Secretary Upshur of the State Department and Sec- retary Gilmer of the Navy Department and i six others. “Kenna came later on, and as a represen- tative and senator had nearly as lengthy a career. Two incidents happened in this city that had an important bearing on Mr. | Kenna’s life, and I don’t think there is any impropriety in speaking of them now, { though I have not done so before. When ; Be first came to Congress a young man, Mrs. Kearon, who always took an active part in church fairs, church raffles and the like, sold him a ticket in a raffle for a cook- ing stove and complete outfit, which had been donated to a church fair, in which she was interested. Later on she had the ple ure of handing him a notification thai his ticket was the lucky one, and that the stove and outfit had been packed up and were subject to his order, He tola her that he would go up to his home in West Virginia in a few days, Congress was just about ad- journey at that time, and uld gladly take the stove with him. He did so, and on arriving there he was met at the depot by a young lady, who accidentally happened to be there, as he was busying himself hav ing his stove unloaded from the expri car. She made some pleasant remark that though he had a stove he had no one to use it, and it is said he actually popped the question to her right there by asking if would use the stove for him. Whether the young lady made any reply there or not I never heard, but it was not a year before she became his wife. On his return to Washington he met Mrs. Kearon, who was | again at the Capitol, this time selling tick- | ets in a raffle for a handsome piece of jew- elry, for the benefit of some other urch. Mr. Kenna told her the sequel of his w ning the stove, and that his marriage wo! soon occur. Of course he took a ticket in the rae for the jewelry, and, would you believe it, won it. Mrs. Kearon, hersel told me that the jewelry was worn by th bride at her wedding, and that the first meal tne newly married couple ate was cooked on the stove that he had won.” gs A TIE THAT BOUND. The Sad _ Experie e Which Befell Two Georgia Brothers. “But the funni thing that I have heard of lately,” remarked the drummer as he flitted from flower to flower of his experi- enecs on the road, “was the sad and sor- rewful bereavement which befell two broth- ers of my acquaintance down in Georgia. They are customers of mine, twins about fifty years of age and bachelors with a ficiency of gallantry to be great ladies’ men. They are both gcod looking, and for the past twenty-five or thirty years their chief personal pet and pride was a pair of matched whiskers reaching down below the belt of each brother. They were really fine whiskers, and were so exactly ali in every particuiar as to be the subject of frequent newspaper comment, which, of only made them more dear to their ors. brothers were excellent men in ry way, but they had one weakness, to a fondness to excess for the flowing in six months. As the ves in this only when they went to Atlanta to buy goods, their falling from grace was not of general note and knowledge. But the pitcher that goes often to the well is liable to be broken, and the brothers indulged themselves once tco many. It happened about September, ard it seems that they started home before they were entirely sober, and meeting a crowd on the train, which agg : they were in bad condition when reached the station, where they took the own team for a dozen mile drive home. So inde was that condition that as they drove along through the soft Septem. ber twilight, th sleep and their of the way- i What happened next nobody knows, or at least nobody is telling, and when the brothers awoke they found their team hitched to a tree a quarter of a mile from the read in the woods, and they were ap- parently tied to each other by a rope around their necks. They were dazed at first, but their very peculiar situation sob- ered them suddenly, and they proceeded to disentangle themselves as fast as po: sible. But no rope could be found around their necks, and as the pull seemed to be on their beautiful whiskers, they reached for them simultaneousiy, when to their utter dismay they discovered that some miscreant had soaked them with mucilage and they were now an inextricable and intermingled mass as dry and hard as a stone. Nothing was to be done, of course, except io cut away the debris, which they did with their knives as best they could, and after a half hour of torture wors than tooth pulling, the two men fell apart and looked at each other. One look was encugh. Their beautiful whiskers lay in a wad at their feet and their chins were like stubble fields harrowed the wrong way. Then they went clear back to At- lanta to get a clean shave, and a week later they appeared at home, with smooth faces and a hard look out of their eyes, which forbade anybody even so much as asking what had happened.” ———— THE KNIGHT AND THE GAS METER. An Interesting Discussion on the Sub- ject of the Hours of Labor. They were very animated. The discus- sion was evidently a warm one and the parties to it had attracted a number of listeners who, though strangers to the par- ticipants, were evidently deeply interested in the colloquy. “So you are a Knight of Labor and be- lieve in working only eight hours a day?” said one. “That's what I am,” returned the other with emphasis. “Eight hours a day!” repeated the first with fine scorn. ‘Why, there’s no dignity in that amount of work. It’s mere child's play. Look at me. I'm hardy and strong, am I not? I don’t look like I’m over- worked, do I? Well, what do I do? I work twenty-four hours ‘every day, and every householder in this city knows ft. Yes, sir. When the sun is shining overhead I am diligently laboring; when evening comes I grow more active, and when night falls, then I get in my best licks and keep ‘em up till the sun comes up again. Eight hours! Why, it’s a mere bagatelle.”” The other party looked dubious and crest- fallen. At last he said: “Would you mind telling me who you ‘Me? Why, everybody ought to know me. I'm a Washington Gas Company meter.” The Knight of Labor bowed low. “Pardon me,” he said, “for not recog- nizing you, but the modesty of your claim deluded me into thinking yon were some one else. I always believed that you put in thirty-six hours a day. —_s——_ Unchanged. y. From Puck. “Weyler seems to retain his military tastes.” “What do you mean?” “This paper says that he desires nothing more than a quiet retreat.” DOORS THAT ARE PECULIAR There are architectural peculiarities about the Capitol, especially on the House side, which are unknown to the casual visitor. There is that about some of the committee room doors which is entirely uncommon to doors in general. In appearance they are not different from the idea of doors that would be expected in a building of the sort. They are massive double doors that swing inward easily and close with the rattle of latch and bang common to heavy doors. They open up a space almost large enough for a horse and cart to be driven through. The peculiarity about them is the great difficulty with which a bill or resolution, jcint or simple, gets out through them. Bills and resolutions by the thousand of all sorts Pass into the committee rooms with the greatest ease, but very few of them can ever get out again. The cnly thing in con- struction at all suggestive of this phenome- nen is one of those patent rat traps with a funnel-shaped opening, which gives the animal free entrance, but offers too small an aperture for his exit. Over two hun- dred bills got caught this way in the public buildings and grounds committee room during the special .session, and their friends are apprehensive that they may never get out. The appropriation bills have frequently escaped similar imprisonment only by shrinking greatly in their size. Battle ships without number have got scraped off the naval appropriation bill in trying to get cut the committee door. It is only by the combined efforts of nearly every member of the House and the use of liberal lubrication that a river and har- bor bill is got out in two years, one during each Congress. In the banking and cur- rency committee, where bills of a peculiar- ly aggressive character go, half a dozen or more bills usually try to escape by making a rush at the door all at one time, and invariably get blocked in the passage, not one getting through. Claims of vari- ous sorts, involving an expenditure of pub- lic money, find it peculiarly difficult to get out when once they enter a committee reom. Private pension bills are about the only sort that are at all successful in taking their escape. Bills for‘national de- fense and fortification bills invariably have such difficulty that they cannot get out of the room until they have shrunk to about a tenth of their original size, and then they are usually so disguised as not to_be recognizable. The mos? difficult of all these marvelous | doors fs that to the room of the committee on foreign affairs of the House. It is e cessively ea: entrance, The do swings open invitingly to every bill or re lution that relates in any way to foreign affairs—belligerenc psolutions, annexa- tion bills, resolutions calling for diplomatic correspondence, and the like. Once within the room they become incommunicado and | are as hopelessly imprisoned as innocent | suspects in Morro castle. A large numbe4 resolutions recognizing the belligerence: eof Cuba, and of like ° confined there during the en- fourth Congress, and ano that entered at the opening of the session of this Congress are stil] im ed incommunicado. It is recognized us al- t a certainty that one of them will ape from this extraordinary rat trap at any time during the entire Congress. To all appearances the door opens as wide from the inside as from the out, but as} soon as it is attempted to get a resolution out it is found to be impossible. INDEMNITY THE v AS PMID. Brought About by Moving the Lega- tion to a Warship. “This controversy between Germany over the Luede case, old resident to a Star reporter recently, “brings to my mind the fact t the United States at one time at lens during my life showed the same spirit that Ger- many did in demanding an indemnity at | the point of a gun. The incident happened it after the close of the war and was | ind of affair. The Brazil- ‘ment had imprisoned or tr i lan gove an Américan citizen in some outrageous way, and the ‘American minister at Rio Janeiro, acting on his instructions, de- manded an indemnity. He off | from day to day, and final to} week, until he made up his d that he either going to do his du or lose his position, he said nothing more about the matter, but waited for a United States warship to anchor in the harbor. Whea the vessel arrived he quietly moved f effects from the legation to the } then announced to the powers in Bra: that he had located the United States lega- tion on the deck of a Uni tes war- ship, and that unless that indemnity was forthcoming in three hours he woul the town. The indemnity was paid. > IRING LAD. a AN INQU Personal Adornment White! Appenred to Be Unnecessary. “When I was down in the Tennessee mountains doing my turn in that peculiar and primitive section,” observed the special pension agent, “I had at various times such glimpses of life as you pampered children of the luxurious capital never get. I re- member one June morning I arose from my imple bed of clapboards on the loft floor of 4 log cabin and proceeded down a ladder to the earth, thence a hundred yards down to the creek, where I afforded ample opportunity for my matutinal ablutions, as the stream was big enough to run a saw mill with. “As I splashed my face in the clear water and spluttered over it after the usual fash- ion of a man who likes to wash his face, I was joined by the ten-year-old son of the family with which I was stopping. He stood on the shore watching me with much interest, which I am glad to say I returned with zest, for he was a picture boy. He was sandy and freckled and didn’t look as if he had had a bath in the memory of man. His clothes were simple enough, con- sisting of a cotton shirt and a made-over pair of papa’s pantaloons, and there was no hat to hide a head of hair which I am positive never felt the penetrating and per- suading influence of a comb. He was too much interested in the mysteries of my toi- let to say anything until I took out a pocket comb and began to use it on my tangled locks. After a tug or two at it, looking at him meanwhile, he spoke. ““Say, mister,’ he said, curiously, ‘have yer got to do that there?’ ‘Do what there?’ I smiled in reply. ‘hat there that yer doin’. You mean combing my hair?’ “ "Yes. “Of course, it has to be done.’ “Every mornin’ this erway?’ “ ‘Certainly’ “Well, geewhillerkins, mister,’ with much feeling, trouble to yerself. an eee le: t Task. he said ‘you must be a heap o’ A From Life. Insurance Agent—"Before filing the claim, will you be kind enough to give me a cer- tificate of your husband’s death, madame?” The New Widow—“With pleasure.” Civilization the Leveler. | Willie boy m: GOLF AT CHEVY CHASE The ex-Polo Pony was standing with his head over the lower half of the stable door out’at the Chevy Club the other afternoon refidgtivelj contemplating a very fine article of #in ing in opal a tl t that was show- of bare trees ty the west. h the black tracery v The crows were flapping in blak clyuds-overhead to their nightly roost gh Ar@tostan Island, and up toward the clu houfe the lighted windows were beginning to grow-cheerily through the dusk. Just tnen the Pony’s refiections were interrupted by the appearance of a very thin and dejeeted-looking foxhound who turned ino tha club grounds from the road and Sees p to the stable door, wearily, it might be, but with the air of one who knew where he was coming and had a right to Le there. “What's happened to all you people around here, anyhow? he asked of the Pony in an injured tone of voice, leaning up 2gainst the stable door to rest. “I thought this was in a fair way of being a sporting club the last time I left here, but muzzie me if it don’t look like a 5 o'clock tea with the blinds down now. “Oh, g9. chain yourself up,” said the Pony, with a tinge of ..opeless cynicism in his voice. “We've reformed, that's all that’s the matter with us. This ain't a hunt club any more, and it ain’t a sporting club of any sort. If you don’t know how to retrieve golf bal.s or drag a bundle of crooked sticks around by a strap, you might as well stoke yourself to a drink of water and move up. the road. That’s all you'll get her “What's the trouble?” insisted the Lean Hound. “Golf,” said the Pony bitterly, “though I believe they call it ‘goff’ up at’ the house. We've all got it now, stable boys wearing little dinky caps and stockings that look like bed quilts, and I understand up at the house they don’t drink anything any more but hot Scotch and high balls, and they're going to make the waiters wear kilts and learn to play the bagpines.” “Pshaw, you don't say so,” returned the Hound. “What started it “You can search me,” said ‘the Pony. “They say it was some of these Scotch le- gation people brought it around, and it’s worse’n microb After you've once got it you can’t take anything for it.” ‘That the reason the kennels are all emp- ty and they haven't got any horses around now inquired Hound. “That's it,” was the rep! “I heard some of the fellows trying to explain it, and one of ‘em that talked the best Scotch and dropped the most h’ aid it use when people who would play Hl once got it on the brain there hing else. But the ase they lost and broke so many sticks id the Hound, was the swer, “un- an grow long hair and make 'em coteh terrier. The last were going that I no- s one of the boys coming in here paper-backed book in his hand, as though he had foun- mebody asks him what ey had gi ing a hunt club bail this month and » going to have a ‘goff ball,’ and he tudying up an Ian Maclaren novel so he'd be able to tallt enough Scotch to hold his job waiting on the table. alk Scotch?" said the Hound. ‘anything else. It’s hear tom. Why, the other ay I heard ong of the board of governors ay to one of t h legation chaps, ‘Weel, when the hazard is too hi t. "world you advise one And the other fellow, . More ip on golf, Hoot a ye try thiecy; joo: take your loftus and. google your ocular over yal scuttle,” Iidaughed till T nearly the har shook that does all his riding in front of airship overza three-rail jimp looked e as a veterinary: college and said he = Son?” inquire =the | Hound. “Thought :yon were sometHing of & polo pony when I left.!.7)+ ” “Hed to come tottto hol my job," said the Pony sadly. turning to eye the rem- rants of a saddle patch that new coat was slowly growing up to.‘ '“They only | keep one or two of us in the stable now to drag traps around the links. Have to have us, be e there are a lot of the members that have a fit every time they do the eighteen holes in less than 647, and then I ave to haul them home." Well, if that’s the way things stand, 1 I'd a8 weli be pointing back toward said the old Hound. ‘Guess that’s right,” said the Pony. wheve ha “But ve you been since the last hunt? thought you had run off.”* of having some sporting blood id the Hound disgustedly. “You see the last time they ad those an! Ss giish hounds out chasing the bag across mtry and having fim with themsely we did start a sure-enongh fox by accident. I come from up in Fairfax. T do, and points off after Mr. Brushtail and hollered for those contract Iabor pups to come on. But they wouldn't stand for it, said a pedigreed hound never ehased anything but S| y_ knew their bust- Weill, T got that fox, but I had to “All com in me, n run him clear up Into Pennsylvania to do it, and I've just been working by easy That's what comes of de- votion t The club's gone to pieces = oe absence, and I’m going back to Vir- ginia.” my way back 4 —-+-—_ JOKES BY THE YARD. A Profesnional Jest Maker Discusses Humor as 2 Business, The commen or garden joke in the comic papers of America and England has come to be as much of a mechanical Product as any other of the minor articles of com- merce. Indeed, a well-known professional “Jest manufacturer” (the designation fs his own) has reduced his daily labor to the perfect system of the factory. In a brief talk with this business humor- ist he outliied his scheme of work as fol- lows: “My notebook is the storehouse for raw material. Therein are jotted down all sug- gestions, ideas and events which may be elaborated into jokes. I rarely have an in- spiration, pure and simple. My family and friends, my chance acquaintances, and the people and sights I encounter supply the unrefined joke. Right here I want to ac- knowledge the debt.that I owe to my hard- working ond conscientious baby, aetat one year. This admirable child is one of the largest daily contributors of raw material for my joke factory. Before his arrival I had to get my infant humor at second- hand from other people’s nurseries. It really pays a manufacturer to be his own producer, y Me “My jokes, roughly, jotted down, are on each Monday maori carefully’ sorted. The Thanksgiving output is thus ready by July 4, and the { vispnas supplies can be placed on the market by Michaelmas, “With regard fo the new perforated joke broadsheet—my ‘own’ invention—I should like to say a rd. I have had made to order a huge shget of writing paper, per- forated after the manner of postage stamps into rectangular sul asian of equal size. Each subdivisioy, is just large enough for myname and address printed for editprial in the corner. I write in my joke, ong Joke to a rectangu- lar slip; and ttipn, ‘iaing up the entire broadsheet, ie best-paying and most desirable Paper on my list. “The editor looks over the‘ jokes and picks out the ones he,wants. These he de- taches by tearing along the lorated lines, and sends back the remainder. Again I mail the broadsheet to comic paper No. 2, and the same process of selection is gone through. When all the humorous journals have been given a chan broadsheet is sent the rounds of the trade papers; ee these publications pie: de- tach best jokes remaining, 1 forward what is left to England, where rning to pla; that had to sill off} he dogs and horses to even up.” ‘Then it looks like I didn’t get any run ess'off, and one of those | ‘replace and couldn't take | say," what. were you doing with : COXEY WAS NOT WANTED “Gen.” J. S. Coxcy is preparing to attack the south on a lecture tour, but does not appear to be receiving much encourage- ment from that direction. “The other day, said a southern man to @ Star reporter, “a citizen of my home town received a letter from the Massillon man intimating a desire to lecture there, and asking how every- thing would go. If Coxey gets the same kind of a letter from every other town he did from there he will not tackle the south on a lecturing tour. This is what my friend wrote him: “You will pardon me if I make a few suggestions- to you about your southern tour. In the first place, don’t come. As a private citizen you would be welcome, but an agitator you would be throwing away your breath. We do not need you. It is true We are poor, and with cotton at 5 cents the future looks black, but in no section of these United States the spirit of American institutions or the love of old- time liberty so strong as in the south sides, general, there is a faint that Mark nna has one of the his fine Italian hand somewhere on head, and we your neither love him nor his help- ers. “ “Without seeming to dictate, we sug- gest that you go up into New England. You doubtless could help the miil men in- crease their shrunken dividends and reduce working time to five hours a day. “ ‘It is a source of no bitter regret that I cannot encourage your coming to this sec- ticn. The south is somewhat pceullar. There are other great men whom she ha been slow to accord the high honor which ether sections of the Union has early in- sisted on giving. But the tramp is an alien and stranger in the southland, and though he may occasionally inspect ‘our railroad ties, he never meets the warm welcome here, or feels the exhilaration that comes to him in the middle and New England states, “Now, my dear general, if you will come after this, do delay your trip until next spring. We have never thought they treated you fair in making you keep off the ar: Washington. As much as we fail to appreciate you, we will not keep you off the grass here. Our mayor is entirely in zecord with you in your view as to making the bums work the streets, and they are pretty grassy in the spring. I am sure he would insist on your staying on the grass ab Should this fail to ppetite for staying mer end or two accommodate you by putting y acres of “crab grass.” > who mig you on a ht HOLIDAYS. NUTS FOR THE ‘The Demand Promises to Be Greater n Ever This Year. “The demand for nuts promises to be greater this year than ever befot said a wholes jer in such produc: York to a writer for The Star. at present very large, and h of from 10,000 to LI shipments 10 bags or cases of nuts frem all parts of the world are ar- riving in this city nearly every day. Now- adays nuts constitute just as prominent a art in the Christmas festivities In Amer- ica as they do in Scotland on Halloween. The most important item in the nut busi- ness is the walnut, and many claim they are the Weetest nut grow Formerly these nuts came almost entirely from Bor- deaux, but the French nut is now apt to be a very poor article. When opened the kernel is likely to be found shrunken in the shell, and the meat is dry and of an in- ferior au The finest walnuts come . They are the cleanest, and els are full, fresh and of a fine New York imports from 12.000 to 15,000 bags of the French nuts and from 10,000 to 12,000 cases of the Italian product annually. “The California walnuts, _ particularly those from Los Nietas’ district, rank next. They are reliable, and have some of the flavor of those imported from They 2zre brought to New York sacks by the carload and are sold to stands in every city of the Union. The Brazil nut, which greatly resem- bles the meat of the cocoanut, but is very much finer, is one of the most popular and best selling nuts in the market. All of these n from Rio Janeiro. The number in this couniry yearly is about 30,000 sacks. Gag ago the Christmas dessert was composed chiefly of almonds, raisins, figs d filberts, which the French called the ‘farm beggars,’ because no adult would touch them. To young Americans, however, almonds and raisins are dear as ever and probably to young French people also. “The great rival of California is Spain, and the almonds of Tarragora are im- ported to New York in vast quantitie: The common shelled almonds come direct from Italy and through London from the = ‘alley of the Jordan. The exporters in alestine, however, have not acquired the art which the Californians have picked up from the Spaniards of making their boxes beautiful with gaudily colored lithographs, and their boxes are merely plain, substan- al receptacles—nothing more. ‘The hazel nuts of which every boy and girl is so fond, are grown largely through- out the United States. Notwithstanding the fact most of these nuts we eat are im- ported from Barcelona and England. Dur- ing the past year 160,000 bushels were im- ported from the former place. “Nearly all the dried figs that are put up in small boxes and displayed every- where for sale in the United States and Great Britain are exported from Turkey and Samaria. Fresh ripened figs are now being sent to this country. They are put up in tins and their sale will be very large during the winter.” es Old Annuals. From Lippincott's. In nooks and corners of libraries one now and then comes across a small or- nate Early Victorian or Pre-Victorian vol- lume bearing in gilt letters some such title as “Friendship’s Offering,” “The Gem,” “The Forget-Me-Not,” or “The Book of Beauty.” As a rule, one is not tempted to “linger mid its pages,” as the Annual itself would say; and yet a glance at its contents suggests reflections which are not without interest. For in ephemeral production like these one sees most-clear- ly the popular tastes and ideals of a given time. Even Jane Austen, the “divine Jane” herself, does not throw as much light upon those of her day as the writers fin the Lady’s Books and Garlands of Beauty who ministered to the passing fan- cles of the fair reader and shaped their conceptions of female perfection to suit the fashion of the hour. The exquisitely finished copperplates show white-robed weeping maidens cling- -ing to stalwart lovers who are imprinting kisses on their gentle brows; devoted wives half swooning in farewells upon their hus- bands’ manly breasts; maidens in tears upon the bosoms of their mothers or the knees of their fathers, or sitting beside open vine-clad windows and gazing mourn- fully at various objects of melancholy in- terest which they hold in their hands; la- dies with immense eyes raised to the moon, or with lids lowered, and heavy curis drooping over one infinitesimal hand, which supports the pensive head. Widows, or- phans, the deserted, the broken-hearted, abound, with abnormally large eyes and abnormally small mouths, and with a wealth of curls falling about their ivory necks or veiling the ‘transports of their grief. In Sparta. PHILANDER JOHNSON: Written for The Evening S' A Color Scheme. Who is it says that Santa Claus was but a pagan myth? Away with all your manuscripts and books; Your “ologies” and “isms” that you puzzle people with, Your lengthy sentences and solemn looks. Science oft has been misled, And there's evidence in sight That old “Santy” is a patriot stanch and true. For the holly berry’s red, And the misletoe is white, And the fir tree in the forest glimmers blue! In a land of peace and plenty at a time of hope and cheer, Shall such ungenerous moods the glad- ness mar? Shall we relegate the old saint to an alien atmosphere When Fis colors are so plainly flung afar? Let us cherish him instead, For the way he read aright Our feelings centuries befere we knew; For his holly berry red, For the misletoe so white, And his fir tree in the forest glimmering blue. Anothe: ecologist. If young Mr. Boggs had ever appreciated himself to the degree that he appreciates his youngest son, he would be one of the most colossal egotists of the era. But he has sunk his identity in that of the boy to an extent that makes e of com- self-effacement ‘Smari?” he ex- claimed the other y. “He's a prod- ‘Aren't you afraid he'll get over it?” in- quired the friend who sometimes fe that he would rather en to Boggs than work. pa mean? “Why, you know, prodigies have a way of outgrowing their prodigiousness and turn- ing out to be just iike ordinary pcople.’ “This boy won't do that. He has too much of a start on the rest of mankind. They can’t possibly catch up to him. Why, the other Jay he climved up on a chair to a tabie, where there were pen and ink, and the first thing I knew, he was writing. “How old did you say he “About two and a haf “I suppose,” remarked the friend, in a tone of sarcasm, “that ne proceeded to turn out comments on Herbert Spencer's writ- ing, in Addisonian English?” “English!” echo the father, on whom the irony was tvially lost. “He has gotten clear past that.” “Oh, I suppose he stands up and talks Sanskrit.” “No. He doesn’t talk Sanskrit. But I'l tell you something that I keep from most people, because they would think I was trying to deceive. I've got the paper he was working with, and the back of the diction- a@ry to prove that he can write it.” > xx A Puzzled Conscience. “Cap,” said Broncho Bob, addressing a man who was a comparative stranger in Crimson Gulch, did you ever study medi- cine?” at do you es. But I never practice “I den’t want anything practical. It’s too late fur that. All I want is a little theory. 1 heard a teller that used to be on a rail- road talkin’ and he’s got me guessin’. Wnat I want to know is whether there Is any disease that makes a man think ‘hat one color is another and vicy-reyers “Oh, yes. Color blindness is by no means an uncommon malady. It cccurs so tre- quently that the railway companies have to hold examinations every now und then so as to make sure that their men are abie to distinguish signals.” “Don't the railroads never have no sus- cions?” "Of what?” ‘Of the men’s tryin’ to work off a bluff, mebbe.” “No. It 1s very much to the men’s dis- advantage to be afflicted with color blind- ness. They try to conceal it.” “Well, then,” was the rejoinder, after a long silence, “under the circumstances, an’ ajl things considered, I shouldn't be sur- prised ef we'd been an’ gone an’ done it.” “Who?” ‘Me an’ the seventeen other members of the jury.” “Why, there are usually only twelve on a jury. “That's what Three-Finger Sam said. But we happened to have eighteen men handy an’ we didn’t wanter act skimpy an’ give anybody room to say that mebbe Greaser Joe didn’t git the full benefit of law.” “What was the charge against him?” “Gineral onreliability. When he catled a hand, he had a way o’ droppin’ the poker chips kind 0’ careless into the middle of the pile so’s nobody’d be likely to -rotice "em close. Of course ef we'd have known about this color-blindness,_we might nave waited an’ investigated. But he got into such a habit of mistakin’ white chips fur blue ones that we concluded we'd better take the case in hand. An’ I dunno’s it makes such a terrible lot of difference, "cause he couldn’t of gone on playin’ poker with an affliction Ike that, an’ ef he couldn’t play poker I den’t believe he’d have cared much about livin’, anyhow. * - ‘Trifles. Only jes’ a little minute O’ de sun in skies so gray, Yet dar’s heaps o’ comfort in it, Dat’ll las’ froo-out de day. *Twasn’ much to talk about, But it’s hahd to do wivout. Only jes’ a little singin’, "Stid o’ givin” way to tears, Seems ter set de world a-swingin’” Easier foh de folks dat hears. May not soun’ like what it should, But it do a sight 0’ good. Only jes’ a word may often Soothe a friend when sorrows smaht; Only jes’ a look may soften Into pity some hahd h’aht. Years seems mighty as dey go; It’s de moments makes ’em so. Frequently I half suspicions Lots o’ folks hav flew de track; Dat dis earf an’ its conditions Isn't measured up exack, Dat Ge mos’ importantes’ ‘Thing in life is “only jes’.” = “This has gone going to fine you.” ut, jedge, 1 ain't the trial. “I have the right to fine you, and I am going to do it.” What fur? For contempt of court.” ‘On account of somethin’ I said?” Certainly ‘All right, je “Ten dolla The witness reached into his pocket and slowly produced some money. “I’m sorry to part with it.” he said, counting it over, “though I've got enough left, I'm thankful to say, for all necessities. But [ tell you what, jedge, ef you'd a-been a mind rea I'd a-gone clean broke.” *- * * Unshaken Exteem. * said Pickaninny Jim, who had been very slow about going to sleep, “does yer reckon it ud do any hahm foh me ter hang up my stockin’s dis here Christmas?” “Ain’ you got dat foolishness out'n yoh haid yit?” ‘Well, ye knows whut dey says; ef at fust you don’t succeed, keep on a-shootin’ an’ mebbe yoh number'll come nex’. The patient philosophy of the youngster seemed to soften the mood of his mother. Her tone was more gentle as she said: “I done thought sho you'd be ‘scouraged "bout whut happen las’ Chris’mas.”” No. I reckons I gwineter take another far enough, sir, I am feller ths Gge. How much'l! it be” r + apologetically, she a Ume wif “las’ Chris’mas An’ times wah pow’ful hahd.” yer s'pose he noticed de hahd Eb'rybody in dis neighborhood done notice de hahd times od?” » did. Don’t jin’s "bout de f's las’ y’ah. altergevvuh his you go layin’ up no hahd he didn’ leave yer no specks mebbe ‘twa’n’t s whut I ‘sposed. My min’ tol’ me dat I mus'n’t go back on ‘im, an’ I's much "biiged ter ‘im jes’ de same.” “{ doesn’t see dat dah's much-obligeness. He didi fin. sion foh > yer nuf- No. But ef Santy Claus b'long ter dis here neighborhood, he done pooty good nov ter steal de stockin’s.” > Never Noticed the Change. The remark that a famous general made upen being asked how he liked Texas— that if he owned Texas and hell he would rent out Texas and live In hell—ts familiar to many, but in the matter of nicety of a point the reply of an inkeeper near Dall Texas, to about the same question, de- serves even more attention than the famous utterance referred to. This inkeeper had moved several times from state to state and had finally located in Texas, where he had met reverses, and had about made up his mind to decamp once more when he was asked by a chance customer if he liked the place. His reply was in the form of a story. “There was once a man who moved from Kentucky to Nebraska, from Nebraska to Arizona, from Arizona to Texas, and then he died and went to hell, but the change was so gradual he never noticed it.” abe What He Would Do. From the Chicago Post There nad been some harsh words from each on the faults of the opposite sex, and she finally gave what she thought would be a parting shot. “You rail at us,” she said, “and make fun of us, but what, I ask you, would you do without women?” ‘Get cich,”” he replied promptly, and she was so indignant that it took her three weeks to make up her mind to ask for a new bonnet. +e An Ideal Theater Hat. From Fiiegende Blatter.