Evening Star Newspaper, January 29, 1898, Page 14

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY ~29, 1898-24 PAGES. Written for The Evening Star. “Seeing Former President Harrison com- ing from the White House grounds one day this week recalled an exciting race I wit- Nessed a ‘few years ago,” said an employe of the Treasury Department to a Star re- porter. “The participants were Gen. Har- rison and a billy goat that used to tote Baby McKee about the executive grounds. “It was an exciting race, too, and it looked for a time as if the billy goat were going to be ‘victoriowsy-~The race also demonstrated that the former President is @ sprinter of no small ability. On this afternoon I speak of the goat was hauling about the front yard and m was walking about so as to be near at hand in case there was a pos- sibility of any harm coming to his grand- son. “Finally, without any warning of his in- tentions, the goat started down Eexcutive avenue on a brisk canter. At the foot of the descent there was an excavation where workmen had been repairing the street. The President saw this and started on a ‘alk behind the cart. The goat went a little faster and the President quickened his steps. When he heard footsteps behind him the goat gave a toss to his head and broke into a genuine run. “When half way down the walk was Teached the President and the goat were each doing their best. The President's coat tails shot straight out behind, and the pattering of his feet on the cement Pavement sounded like a woodpecker’s at- tack upon a soft maple tree in the early “For an instant they were neck and neck, but finally the President gave a spurt and, by a brilliant coup, caught the bridle of the fleet-footed billy goat just before the excavation was reached. Baby McKee was as unconcerned as could be, but his distinguished grandfather was Pretty well winded as he led the goat and cart back to the White House. “Yes, that was more fun than I have had for years. Gen. Harrison displayed better running qualities than he did at the polis the following year.” a “Very few people outside the trade,” said a leading wholesale dealer in handker- chiefs in New York to a Star reporter re- cently, “are aware that the consumption of handkerchiefs throughout the United States amounts to about 75,000 dozen daily. Tiis means 27,375,000 dozen yearly, or 328,- 00,000 single hanckerchiefs. To satisfy this enormous demand there are always kept in stock in this city at least 350,000,- 000 handkerchiefs. It would be extremely dfficult zo say what such a supply of goods is worth in the aggregate, as handkerchiefs sell wholesale at anywhere from 3) cents to $40 per dozen, according to quality and finish. But the figures which I haye given you are not éxaggerated, and they throw a strong light om the gigantic dimensions of an important branch of the dry goods | business. “A comparatively small number of hand- kerchiefs are manufactured in this cour- | try, and those that are made here ure mostly of the cotton and inferior silk va- rety. The finest silk goods are imported principally from. Japan, which . country sends us annualiy between 17,000,000 and 18,000,000 “Japanese pongees.’’ The best cambric article comes from France and Belgium, and linen handkerehiefs come from the nutth of Iréfand® tind also from St. Galis, Switzeriand. Japanese silk hand- kerchiefs are wocth from $3 to $0 per dozen, while the imported cambrics from Brussels sell for from $5 to $i a dozen, and the cotton product manufactured in Penvsylvania and New Jersey may be had | cnument yonder,” | half-back dip of the head toward the great spring. | for 30 cents per dozen. “The capital invested in. this business is immense. It may pcssibly amount to $100,- 000,000, but owing to the fact that the trade is distributed, nothing Tike accurate fig- ures can be given. There are six or seven firms in the dry goods district which deal exclusively in handkerchiefs. But only two of these housés handle the domestic article extensively. Most of the large American factories are located outside of the city, but New York, as in several other branches of the dry goods business, is the great distributing center for the trade.” x * Ke & Edward Parker, the lttle old colored man who occupies the sentry box at the temb of Washington at Mt. Vernon, lives in Washington. That is; his family lve here, and he comes over by special permit of the organization which has control of the old home of the first President of the United States. ‘For years the tomb of Washington has been constantiy before this old colored man’s vision. He has never missed a day from that dingy sentry box since Mt. Ver- non passed into the charge of the ladies, and before that, dating from 1841, he had lived on the place. He was a slave of John Washington and is the last of the old ser- vants now living. Every other Saturday Parker comes over to Washington, always carrying with him an old-fashioned carpet bag, so common in the days of reconstruction. The following Monday morning he may always be seen a half hour at least before the first train starts for Mt. Vernon waiting around the eerner of Pennsylvania avenue and 13th eet. He has never missed the first train sirce the electric cars began running to Mt. Vernon. Before that, the first boa: to Mt. Vernon on alternating Monday morne ings always found him a passenger. Parker is indeed a character. He as- sisted in burying the last person consigned to the vault in Washington's tomb. After that the key to the vault was thrown into the Potomac. This was in the early 50's. eek ee * “I have traveled about this country a gcod deal during the past twenty years,” said a commercial drummer, “and I saw something tonight that I have never seen in any other city.” “And what was that?’ a Star reporter asked. “I saw two Chinamen, real un-American- ized celestials, with thelr queues done up in twists on their heads, occupying front seats in one of the leading theaters of the city. Understand I am not finding fault with the presence of a Chinaman in @ theater; I merely speak of it because of its noveity. “In New York the Chinamen have a theater of their own in Doyer street, which ig one of the principal thoroughfares in that part of the city known as Chinatown, and there every night in the year you may see congregated several hundred celestiais and hear the weird melodramatic: music, or @iscord, which is a necessary adjunct. to their entertainment. “The fasnion and wealth of 5th avenue often attend the Chinese theater as a mat- ter of curiosity, and it is a real fad to visit Chinatown when your country cousin comes to see you. But to see a Chinaman in an Amefican theater is indeed some- thing new for me.” xt ee & A Washington newspaper man who went over to Cumberland, Md. Tuesday night to meet President Dole of Hawaii and party, threatens to bring suit against the Proprietor of the hotel where he stayed over night. The newspaper man left a call for 6:45. He was awakened by what seemed to be the conventional knocks of the porter on his door. Fearing that he might miss the clothes, face and wiped it with the scanty 4x6 towel, and went down stairs, only to find that it was not then 4 o'clock. It seems that in this Cumberland hotel the steam is turned into the pipes at that early hour. The newspaper man had been awakened by the noise of the heater, which sounded for all the world like raps om the door. xe eK * i “When you see a man or woman climbing the steps to the western front of the Cap- itel you may bet every dollar you have in the world that he or she is a stranger in Washington,” said an attache of the Capi- tol yesterday. “It is ‘a fact that ninety-nine out of every 100 who enter the Capitol from the west are persons who are paying their first visit to the building. After they have been here awhife, or are put onto the- best way by their representative or senator, they~ will make the pilgrimage by car and land them- selves around the east side, and thus es- cape climbing so many. steps. ‘ “For instance, a few days ago I noticed & man enter the corridor puffing and blow- ing and trying to catch his breath. When he. was cooled off sufficiently “he inquired the way to the House of Representatives. I showed him and he passed on. The next day I saw him enter from the east side with a western congressman. The fellow was perfectly passive, and it was evident that the trip to the Capitol had been made in a car which Janded-him up the hill, and that the congressman had put him onto the much easier way of reaching the build- ing. - > A LAW-ABIDING CITIZEN. Which is Just Why the Man is Still Alive. “I'm a law-abiding citizen,” he said to the policeman of the martial mien who may be seen along Pennsylvania avenue rot far from the Treasury corner on sun- shiny days, “and I have been over to the nodding a kind of a marble mark of esteem of the American people for the late George Washington. “What's that got to do with it?” quired the policeman. “If I hadn’t have been law-abiding I'd have been a dead — this very minute,” explained the citizd®. “Then you ought to be glad that you are,” said the policeman, approvingly. “Are what?” “Are alive.” “But I'm not.” “What do you mean?” and. the policeman began to look around for the man who arrests crazy people. “I mean what I say. What do you s'pose I mean? I’m making a kick because I’m alive. I wouldn't be making it if I was dead, would 17" “Really, sir,” insisted the policeman, making a bold front, though as peaceful as an American warship in Havana harbor, “you will oblige me by explaining what you are talking about.” The stranger took the policeman by the bcsom of his coat and carefully conveyed him to the far side gf the walk. “Considering it’s you,” he said, in a whis- per, “I'll tell you. I said that I was kick- ing because I was alive, and Iam. And I am alive because 1 am a law-abiding citi- zen. That is why I wish I was not.” “Not what?” inquired the policeman, without thought. “That's all right,” continued the stranger, in a pitying tone; “you can’t help it. But you are getting me off the subject. It has been the on® object of my life to hurl my- self from the lofty sutmmit of yon tower- ing cenotaph, and be squashed to atoms far below, and this morning I went up. there for the purpose of accomplishing my dear- est wish. But I am, as I have Sali,’ sir, a law-abiding citizen, and when I reached the top, sir, what do I find there but a notice, which is in the nature of a com- mand, sir, from the government to all good citizens, to this effect: Please do not throw articles out of the windows; it may en- danger’the lives of those below:’ That's all there was to it, sir; but could J violate the jaw, sir, and throw myself.out of the win- dows? No, sir: it. might have endangered the lives of those below. Therefore, I gave up my cherished purpose and am here ask- ing you where I shall go next.” ~ “St. Elizabeth’s,” ventured the polite po- liceman, and went into a brief explanation himself. : —_—_—_ THE MONUMENTS CORNER in- STONE. Men and Boys Pulled It Out of the 5 > “Recently there have been references made in The Star to the laying of the cor- ner stone and dedication of the Washing- ton national monument,” says an old East Washington man, “and one writer inti- mates that there are few if any lving who took part, as he, in both processions. Perhaps he is right as to the few survivors of the two processions, but there .are hun- dreds who were boys when (in 1848) the corner stone was laid and were spectators of the scene, some of whom took part in the dedication proceedings. I know a num- ber who, like myself, joined in at least three processions connected with the mon- ument and helped to haul the corner stone. It was early in 1848, I believe, when the stone was being hauled from the Baltimore and Ohio depot, then at Pennsylvania ive- nue and 2d street northwest, to the ground, a long string of oxen being attached to the truck, when the 14th street bridge over the caral gave way, the wheels of the truck going through. Intelligence by word of mouth reached the navy yard and the workmen at once held a meeting and re- solved to voluateer their services to extri. cate the stone and haul it to its destina- tion. A line was at once formed, Gen. Henderson of the Marine Corps loaning us a flag and furnishing fleld music (drum and fife), and we marched up the then dusty avenue to 14th street bridge. Here, under the direction of our foreman, we soon had lifted the wagon 4nd moved it south of the canal, and attaching ropes, we relieved the oxen, and to the musx and cheers, the stone was hauled to the ground. ‘There were perhaps three hundred of us, and I can name a dozen or so yet living.” ——__ Army Elephants at Breakfast. From Tit-Bits. Elephants in the Indian army are fed twice a day. When meal time arrives they are drawn up in line before a row of piles of food. Bach animal's breakfast includes ten pounds of raw rice, done up in five two-pound packages. The rice is in Jeaves, and then tied with grass. At the command, “Attention!” each . elephant raises his trunk, and a package is thrown ito Its capacious mouth. By this method wasted. ——_+-e-+—_____ Prowess. Frem Punch. ay Stee one Young farmer (after tryttig whin . ‘our for his for a rabbit, to Cockney friend first shoot)—‘Helio! Eh! Whgtt: Why. you've shota fox! nt - . you think I was sucha Quiter eat miss a grite big beggar like that!” ey feeding not a single grain of rice is HOW HE DECEIVED HER It was in a town not many, miles from Washington that there was recently given of the first party found herself talking very amicably with a mask in whom she Supposed she recognized a gentleman who had come to town after her own enter- tainment. Simply for the sake. of indulg- ing in conversation and of throwing the gentleman off his scent of her own iden- tity she asked: : a “Were you at Mrs. Blank’s masquerade party?” “No,” he answered. “I was not honored with an invitation.” “Were you in town at the time?” she in- quired. - “Yes,” he replied, “but Mrs. Blank does not like me.” oe Consternation seized upon Mrs. Blank, but she instantly détermined not to be- tray herself. “Doesn't, eh?” the lady returned care- lessly. “Probably that is one of the things which you imagine. Some people are al- ways assuming that others do not. like them, you know.” Her companion seemed & trifle annoyed. “T am not one of that sort,” he retorted, rather juely. “Besides, she has in- timated to me that she did not like me.” “Is it fair to ask how?” Mrs. Blank ask- ed, entirely mystified in regard to the iden- tity of her interlocutor. “Why, I should not mind telling you if I were sure that you wouldn't repeat it-” “Oh, I never betray a confidence,” the lady said, eagerly. The gentleman leaned over until his face under the mask was near to hers, “I ask- ed her to marry me.” Mrs. Blank was more startled than ever. The train of her old suitors—and in her day she had had not a few—came up be- fore her mental vision, and she wondered which one of them chance had brought to her side tonight, but in vain. - “But,” she said, slowly, “because a lady refused your hand it dogs not follow @hat she dislikes you. I am sure a woman is not to be supposed to dislike every man she does not wish to marry. That would be a most absurd assumption.” “To be sure it would,” he assented cheer- fully, “but in this particular case she did not refuse me.” “Did not refuse you?” echoed Mrs. Blank in astonishment. “She certainly did not accept you?” “That is precisely what she did do.” “It is not——” Mrs. Blank began, and then considering that if she mentioned names she might show more knowledge of Mrs. Blank’s affairs than was compatible with pretending to be another person, so she changed her sentence and said, “‘cred- itable that she should accept you and then marry another man.” “She didn’t, Kate,” her husband said, in his own natural voice, “she married me.” ‘Tom!” she exclaimed. ‘Yes, my dear,” Tom answered. “You told me at our party that I couldn’t fool you, even if I did wear a mask.” “You are a wretch and a monster,” she declared, “and I will never forgive you.” But she did, and told the joke at her own expense before the evening was over. Se A CLOSE CALL. Nip and Tuck Between the Miners and the Mountain Lion. A number of sportsmen were recently talking over the good times they had had duck shooting last fall, when the conversa- tion turned on hunting big game in the west. Some thrilling adventure was re- lated by every one in the group but an elderly man, end he in turn was asked for a story. ’ “I don’t suppose,” began the silent man, “that any of you young fellows ever ran cross a mountain lion, as they are becom- ing rather scarce now in the west. But early in the fifties, when I first went’ to Colorado to hunt for gold, these animais were quite numerois. I recall on one oc- casion having a little adventure with a lion that almost scared me out of my wits. With a partner I was working a claim in the mountains near Ouray, and one day be- fore the very cold weather of the winter set in we both went to town to get some. supplies, leaving ‘our lfttle cabin on the mountain side alone 43 “It came on to snow so hard soon after we arrived in Ouray that we did not, get.a| chance to return to our claim for three days. On our return journey we noticed as we were climbing the hills the tracks of a mountain lion leading toward our cabin. Presently, however, as we got nearer and nearer to our little home, we lost the track of the animal, and the sight of an open window, which had been carefully closed on our departure for town, caused us to forget all about the lion and its presence. “Well, I had reached the window and was just about to put my head into the apart- ment when there came a terrible growl and the next instant a great yellow body sprang through the opening right on my back, its claws catching my buckskin coat and ripping it open to my waist, turning me completely over and into the snow. My partner took the dangerous situation in at a glance and whipped out his gun. Then the infernal licn turned on him, making a fearful leap in his direction. Before he could fire the infuriated beast was upon him, and, seizing him by the slack of his coat, shook him as though he were but a rat. I was on my feet by this time, and, drawing my revolver, I sneaked up and put @ bullet right through his head. The ani- mal groaned and fell back dead and my partner drew his breath freely once more. It was a close call, but neither of us was hurt, and the lion’s skin in another week was serving-as a rug at the foot of my ei a aS sa mE a I i a ee | ac hasta URES SAR oa cee ne i pe a” Ah I FS SE ULE a A I CE STS A bunk.” —_.+—— HER OPINION OF HIM. A Lawyer Who Was Caught Up With for Once. If there is anything exasperating in this life it is the lawyer who delights: to bully- rag and otherwise despitefully use a wit- ness, more particularly when that witness is a woman. It is on this account that there 1s a general rejoicing when that kind of an attorney is smote hip and thigh by one of his supposedly helpless victims. Of such is the following tale: The woman was on the stand and she was a very nice-mannered, respectable wo- man, who kept a cheap boarding house, and it was the desire of one of her guests to be dishonest that had brought her to the court to make him pay his board. “How old did you say you were, madam?” inquired the lawyer, with no reason on earth, for an elderly landlady is no more anxious to lose a board bill than a young one. “TI did not say, sir,” she responded, flush- ing to the roots of her hair. “Will you be kind enough to say, madam?” “It’s none of your business.” “Objection sustained,” smiled the court. “Um,” said the lawyer, rubbing his chin, “how much did you say the amount was the defendant owed you?” “Twenty-five dollars.” “And for how long was that?” “Five weeks.” ’s five dollars a week, isn’t it?” “Yes, sir.” “Five weeks at five dollars a week is twenty-five dollars, I believe you said?” “Yes, sir.” The witness was patient, but her temper was not improved under the strain. “Isn't that an extravagant price to pay for board in that locality, madi quired the attorney, severely. “He didn’t pay it, sir,” answered the worm, beginning to turn. ‘The lawyer gave a little start of surprise, then became indignant at the very thought of a witness talking like that. “Don’t be facetious on the witness stand, madam,” he said, assuming a tone of warn- ing. “This fs a serious matter, madam. I have asked if your prices were not exorbi- tant and you have seen fit to answer ..ght- ly, madam. Now, madam, I ask you in all earnestness if you mean to tell this that your prices are lam?" in- n a hot sport at one e. He managed to maetiea: long odds. ‘knew_very little about racing. ‘The he ‘yori on the long shot gave him'a ti the sport and he imme- diately hecame n horn gambler, to use with varying suc- the $200 which lump so unexpect- edly. Thi however, as it docs in such cases. ¥ From playing the races himself he into a race track “Ath, a would-be per- d.tips which, according eulated\to make any man who played'-them a Vanderbilt at short notice. He. followed the meetings from one place another as~ the horsemen swung-around the @rcle to-avoid the pen- alty of racifg too on any particular track. Hé6 finally became fiat broke, and when the. horses, including the hurdle racers, ac ‘Wel as thesé.on the flat, made @ longer .jump”~ than ‘usual, glean into another state, Fred was left behind. He was too heavily handicapped, he lained, to make the running and fell Boas start. In~other- relinquish watching the “ponies” do their circular act for the time being. Much against his inclination he was forced to accept @ position.in a restaurant as a waiter, eS The slang‘ of the tuff, the expressions which mean so little and are so puzzling to an outsider, never leave one who has been affilcted with the horse fever for any length of time. Though Fred was'a sim- ple waiter in a restaurant the atmosphere of the race track still clung to him. In his mind’s eye. hé heard the clang of the bell calling’ the horses to the post, he heard the cries of the “bookies” shouting their odds, and could imagine he was watching ‘the “bang tails” as thty speeded arcund the track. The Star reporter was at the restaurant where Fred had sunk his identity as a tout for the time being. He still wore his horseshoe pin, however, and had all the manner and appearance of @ typical tout. When he approached the visitor he came up to the table with the bill of fare as if he had some mysterious information to impart regarding the imag- irary races. In answer to the question as to what time dinner would be ready he replied: “They'll be off in a short time now, sir. Schedule time is 4:30, and the starter usual- ly gets them off réght at the first jump. 1 beg pardon, sir, I mean that the cook is always on time. Have a look at the card, sir,” he asked handing the guest the bili of fare. “It’s a pretty good card today,” he said absent-mindedly. ‘That consomme is a good thing. It’s what I would select as favorite. out of the bunch in the start off. Went all right yesterday, red-hot faye) I ain't much stuck on that to- mato.” The guest took’ Fred’s tip on consomme and played it, as it were. Just as he had said, it was a good thing. The “card” was again produced when consomme had won out by a neck. “Red snapper is a dead sure winner in this next event,” Fred remarked, as an inspection | was made of the bill of fare. “I see they had salmon entered, but they scratched him. He's kind of ‘stale, I guess. Red snapper is pounds and pounds better than bluefish. Bluefish ain't running very well, now. If I were you,” was the confidential remark, “I'd take celery as the runner up. Pretty fresh today. , * “Roast beef was all right yesterda: was the remark when the entree came. “1 guess it belongs to tte same stable. You know sometimes: they run in a ringer on roast beef, but 7, think this is the straight stuff. Anyway you ean take a little of it, and if you ain’t’stuck on it why you don’t lose much, see? “Say, You want to let that mutton chop alone.’ Ftain’t no good. There ain’t no life about its And so it continued, throughout the en- tire dinner. Theze were some deviled crabs included in the” bill of fare. They were characterized as‘ “hot stuff,” and the re- mark was madevthat they would “twin in a walk.” Ice cream was, denominated as “a cold stiff” and demi-tasse. was called. ‘one was left in the race when you won 6ut all right by taking my tips,” said-the “waiter, when the guest arose to depart. °’Témorrow is Sunday, and we have amextri‘fine card ‘then. “You ought to come fn’ dnd* get down on turkey, That's the Dest thing’ theyhave entered on this circuit.. You want’to come early or you'll get left." iS Then the unwitting guest’ at the imagi- nary horse race went up to the bookie to have his check ‘cashed or simply to pay the cashfer, as the case may hive”been. a The Initials Misunderstood. From the Syracuse Standard. Part of the Loyhood of Bishop Barry was spent at boarding school, where during his first term he was allowed $10 as spend- ing money. His mother on giving it to him requested an exact account of his daily expenditures. He tried to keep his word, but sometimes forgetting to post the items for days together, it was difficult to re- call them, and he invented an abbrevia- tion corresponding very nearly to sun- dries, which appeared pretty regularly throughout. his account. When Mrs. Barry first looked over her boy’s account book on his return she was much pleased at the most frequently re- curring item of expense, and inquired how he had been led to take so strong an in- terest in the cause of missions. Aston- ished in his turn, he declared he had not given a penny to missions. “But surely,” exclaimed Mrs. Barry, “the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel is missionary work, and I find that more than half your money has been given in small sums to 8. P.-G." “S. P. G., mother,’’ confessed the future dignitary of the church, “does not mean Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. Wren I could not remember what I ‘had spent my money for, I put down 8S. P. G.— Something, probably grul ~——-——+e0 Fuddy—“They tell me your uncle died very suddenly.” Duddy—“Yes; he was taken fll very un- expectedly, and he died before tha doctor arrived.” Fuddy—“Dr. Prober, I suppose? Well, there's one lucky thing about it, It gives Prober a chance to prove an alib! ton Transcript, Some twelve or fifteen years ago tt was the misfortune of a captain in the regular army of the United States to be afilicted with a rental trouble of a serious nature, }and he was sent to the government hospital at St. Elizabeth, where he was for more than two years under treatment. When |.the captain was first taken to the hospital ‘his mental and physical condition was such that it was an absolute impossibility for him to make out or sign his pay vouchers, and the morey due him from the govern- ment accumulated until he was able to do so. When his health had been sufficientiy restored the superintendent, Dr. Godding, Placed him in charge of Dr. “Blank,” who was then an assistant at the hospital, and, in fact, is still connected with that insti- tution, to take him to Paymaster Roches- ter’s office to make out the vouchers for his pay, which amounted to something over %. General Rochester directed the paymaster to pay the account, and the check of the gcvernment was made out for the amount. During the time of his residence at St. Elizabeth numerous expenses had been In- curred for clothing. beard, ete.. and the {captain had been in debt to a small amount when his mind failed. These amounts were taken from the money received from the gcvernment, and there then remained about $2,000 The captain asked Dr. Blank’s advice as to what he had better do with the money, and the doctor told him to buy United States registered bonds. This the captain agreed to, and the doctor went with him to the office of a local broker, where the money was deposited, with in- structions to buy bonds for the captain’s account. Shortly after the money had been de- posited with the broker the house failed. and in the wreck the captain’s money went with the rest, the bonds not having been purchased. Of this, however, the captain knew nothing, and to this day does not know that his money was lost. When the doctor heard of the failure he went imme- diately to the office, and was informed that the bonds had not been purchased, and that the money was an absolute loss. He was almost distracted to think that his advice had been the cause of the loss, and went to Dr. Godding and laid the matter before him. It would not do to let the captain know of the matter, for he was in such a condition that anything of an exciting na- ture would retard if it did not in fact ab- solutely prevent his recovery. During the consultation Dr. Godding said that he could see only one way to save the captain, and that was for Dr. Blank to fur- nish the money and buy the bonds. This the doctor concluded to do, although he had to borrow money from his friends, and it took him four years to repay the amount from his salary. He said afterward that he felt that he had only done his duty as a man, and that his only thought in the mat- ter had been that if the captain learned of the loss he was almost certain to become incurable. After his discharge from St. Elizabeth the captain returned to his regiment, and several years ago was discharged, afte thirty years’ service. He now holds an im pertant office in a thriving western city, |ard is a man of considerable means. Did {he but know of the self-sacrifice of his one- time atten¢1nt physician, the next mail to this city would carry his check for tke full amount to Dr. Blank, who by his actions showed the true manhood and Christian spirit that was in him. ——— IN A QUANDARY. Did Not Know How to Act Under the Circumstances, It required some coaxing to get the War Department clerk to tell his story, but he yielded at last, notwithstanding the painful memories it brought, and this is what he told: “Twelve years ago I married a lovely girl from dear old Virginia, and life became a benison to me. I was fiv2 years her se- nior, and we were perfectly adapted to each other. Our days passed swiftly by for five years, and our only child, a beauti- ful boy, was three years old. At that age a child, I think, is at its lovelizst, and this boy ef ours was the pride of our hearts. One Sunday—I shall never forget it, I am stre—my wife and the boy and I went oft up the canal above Georgetown to pass a pleasant afternoon by the waterside. It was a delightful day in the summer, and we had a great good time wandering about the woods and banks, until, quite tired out, we sat down in the shade overlooking some very picturesque locks. How It happened I never knew, but my wife and the boy Started across the canal on the lock, and when I first noticed them they were nearly half way across, the boy holding on to the mother’s skirts, and sh>, apparentiy, find- ing the footway very difficult to keep. Why she had ever undertaken such a hazardous walk I could not tell, nor did I stop to find causes. The two beings who were all the world to me wer2 in jeopardy of their lives, and with a bound I was up and out upon the lock to help them. “Possibly I may in my foolish haste have frightened them; possibly they were al- ready nervous, and thought they should turn back. Of that I cannot say. All I know is, that as I came hurrying to them th2 mother turned, and in doing so stum- bled someway against the boy, knocking him into the water above the lock, while she dove forward to the water below. It was all over in a second, and I stood there utterly paralyzed. Above me, struggling in the water was my boy, with tis golden curls spread all around his head, and his little cap floating away, while in the eddies below I could see my Wife's body whirled and tossed hither and yon by th2 cruel waves. I could not save both, and I stood irresolute and——” “Good heavens!” exclaimed an excited listener, unable to restrain his feelings, “what did you do?” “I awoke,” smil2d the clerk blandly, “and fovnd the boy tickling my ear with a blade of grass, and my wife aiding and abetting him.” —————— Plenty of Time. From Life. “Weeks is a gentleman of leisure, isn’t he?” “He must be. He told me one day that he made it a poimt never to interrupt his wife.” BY PHILANDER JOHNSON» Written for The Evening Star. His Reward. He oft would tell—and he meant it, too— Of the wonderful things his love would do. And she listened while In his ardent style He sought to win from her lps a smile. “Believe me,” quoth he, “if I could, my sweet, I would lay the world at your dainty feet.” And he noted how, with a placid brow, She would lean to hear this especial vow. And he sighed. “Ah, me, If I could but see A wizard who'd make such wonders %e, ’ Td pay his price to monopolize The secret for winning such a prize.” And he brooded over this fancy strange Till e’en through his dreams it began to range. He found one night, To his great delight, He could take this earth with a bow polite And, placing it at her feet, declare “I have done as I promised; the world is there.” Then he stood in hope that she might ex- express Some kindly thought of his tenderness. She looked it o'er With a glance—no more; And her mien was haughtier than be- fore. “It was very good of you, but—dear me!— I don’t think it’s much of a world,” quoth she. * x % A Trade Secret. “Oh, Mr. Scannerton,” she exclaimed ef- fusively; “I have been waiting to see you. I wanted to tell you how much I appre- ciate that poem you had in the latest is- sue of the Cerebrum Magazine.” “You mean the one that begins— ‘Through the turgid depths we plod and plough, And clamber on, we know not how, To find the goals that promised res But weary starting points, at best.’” “Yes,” she answered, with dreamy down- cast eyes. “I like that. And it gets bet- ter as you go on. It gets very much bet- ter. There were parts of it that I could hardly understand at all.” ‘Oh, you flatter me.” ‘No, indeed. You ought to do more things like that. You ought to write in a more dignified measure and be profound, you know. I like that so much better than these little things that sound as if they were done off-hand. Yet I know there must be a great temptation to do that kind of work.” “There is,” was the answer. “I very narrowly escaped making this one sound 50.” “Tell me how.” “TI had to send the thing away in a hurry. I didn’t: have time to make it sound off- hand.” Not a Success. ‘The ycung man had a very dejected ex- pression. “It etmply goes to show,” he was saying to a friend, “how mediocrity often seems to prosper, while brilliancy fails. As long as I go ahead end remain mediocre I get @’ong very well; but-the minute I make an effort to be brilliant, I become involved in difficulty.” “Have you said something you are sorry for?” “I have, indeed.” to back down, but I failed 1o grasp it. You see, I happened to need a little mon- ey, and the cashier said he would ad- vance it to me if I would make out an application and get the head of the firm to O. K. it. So I stated the situation to the head of the firm and handed him the application. He Icoked it over and reach- ed for his pen. I felt so grateful that I thought I ought to do something to amuse him; something to lighten the dull monot- ory cf a business man’s existence. He had written the letter O when I broke in with the observation, ‘I assure you, sir, that this is one of the happiest O. K.-sions of my existence." "* “What did he do?” “He threw down his pen and said,““Young man, I wish you would put that remark in writing.” “And you did so?” “Yes. I was so delighted over the good time I thought he was going to have when ‘he saw the joke that my hand trembled, but as soon as I finished he rut the appli- cation away and said he'd take some time to consider whether anybody with no more sense than I had ought to be trusted with money.” * x * Simple Duty. Old Wotsizname's a feller that We don’t hear much about. He never stands on barrel heads to storm around an’ shout. They say “he doesn’t cut no ice.” Won't go mixin’ in With things that don’t concern his "mejit fam'ly nor his kin. So his neighbors in the village, they jes’ leave him off the list ‘When anythin’s a-doin. He stays home an’ isn’t missed. An’ yet his house is recognized by all who come an’ go. He doesn’t cut no ice, but then he shovels off his snow. He An’ folks’ll stop to view the work an’ won- der whose it is, An’ say how fine ’twould be ef all the rest _ was done like his, But they go ahead a-botherin’ an’ a-stirrin’ up affairs : And oratin’ about business, most of which it isn’t theirs, An’ when they're goin’ home agin, a-wadin’ through the slush, An’ strike this patch o’ neatness, there will come a solemn hush. Then some one pays a compliment—the best I'd keer to know— “He doesn't cut no ice, but then he shovels off his snow.” all cases. I was reminded of this during a journey which I recently nace. I met at a hotel a friend of mine, who is very econom- ical and very much given to fault-finding. I overheard him addressing the landlont with great vehemence. As I came up he turned to me and said: ‘It’s an outrage! I $i¥, OF 8, place to stay, and I expect to ave it habitable. That landlord has given me @ room so small that I have to climb into bed over the foot board. It case of pere avarice. He wishes to bully me into taking a more expensive apartment.’ Then he heaved a sigh and exclaimed, ‘Ah, the love of money is the root of all evil.’ Later I met the landlor?. ‘I am sorry that friend of yours wes dissatisfied,” he remarked. But he told me at the outset how much he de- sired to pay, and we did the very best we could for him. And now cur effort to help bim economize has made him a Nfelong en- ‘igh exclaimed, “Ah, low of money is the root of all = siemens = Wasn't Contradicting Him. It was plain to the casual observer that something had happened to displease the man with high cheek bones and chin whiskers. He was raging up and down the waiting room of the rural railway sta- tion and shouting at the top of his voice. “Who is the man as scattered the re- Port around the*country that I don’t do a lick of work in six months an’ that it’s lucky fur me my wife bosses me? Who is it?" The crowd of loiterers who had been sitting around the stove had dispersed. A number of them were looking through the window at him in curiosity and alarm. “Show me to ‘im!” he vociferated. “I ain't goin’ to be ifsulted an’ imposed on no longer. I’m as gentle as a shote when I'm left alone. But I'm a roused. That's what 1am.” The station master looked out from the ticket office window, which he had cau- tiously raised, and queried: “If you were to find the per said it, Lem, what would you do’ I'd show "im what it “fs to stir up a sleeping lion; that’s what I'd do.” A tall woman entered the reom and ex- claimed: “I heard you was creatin’ some disturb- ance down here, and I thought I'd come and sce what the trouble ts. It’s a lucky thing for you that you've got a wife who ain't afraid to boss you. Au it's only to be expected that idieness would git you into trouble. You ain't, done any work in six months.’ What was that talk I heard about lions?” “J was explainin’ that there are times when I am a reg'lar lion—an," he re- sumed with a very obvious and ineffectual effort to be fierce, “I want you to under- stand, madam, that 1 don’t want no con- tradiction from nobody. When a man is a reg’lar lion, you want to look out fur "im.’* “I ain't a-goin’ to conterdict,.Lem,” she answered. “But I want to call your atten- ticn to how some lions act. Do you re- member’ when we was to the circus how the lion snorted around the cage and roar- ed and scared the chilarent” “Yes. And I feel like him this minut “To be sure. But ye mustn't furgit the way that Iton calmed right down an’ did what he was told when a lady in brown tights come into the cage with a club, You kin have yer own way, Lem, an’ be a lion; but don’t you make no mistake an’ think you're a roamin’ monarch of the desert. Ycu’re a circus lion; that’s what you are. An’ while I may mot have no brown tights,” she added, as she followed him. to the door, “I reckon I kin manage to go lion when I'm nm that ahead and give the performance, jes’ the same. ee Simecure. From Tit-Bits. : Pullen—“I worked hard trying to get a government clerkship, but I’m going to take a good rest now.” Pusch—“You've given up trying, have you?” Pullen—“Oh, no; I secured the place.” SEES Se Laura—“When Bob proposed last night - did you know what was coming? Lucretia—“No; I didn’t know papa was within hearing; neither did Bob. Poor Bob!""—Yonkers Statesman. —__+e-+___ A Lucky Dog.