Evening Star Newspaper, February 5, 1898, Page 23

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 1898—24 PAGES, WAMPUM STILL USED The Pomos and Their Ka Yah and Poh Money. PROCESS OF POLISHING THE SHELLS Time and Labor Enter Into Their Making and Value. SOME PREHISTORIC SECRETS —_—_.—__—_ From the Overland Monthly. On the Pacific slope, in*that beautiful meuntain region north cf San Francisco, @ type of Indian still lives which preserves largely the ancient customs. Ethnologi- cally distinct, void of ambition, with Its fierce joys and sorrows, the Digger—to use the common but Incorrect general term for the Indians of central and southern California—wends his humble way through the byroads of civilization, shunning all cause for cavil or avarice of his white veighbor. Conspicuous in these charac- teristics are the Pomos of Mendocino ccunty, Cal. Much of what the warlike castern tribes have lost after vain though fierce resistance the Pomos have retained by pacific diplomacy. In their intercourse with the white man peace and acquies- cence have been their policy in every ques- tion but one. One single birth-right he yet jealously guards—his religious and financial cus- toms. To the inutility of either to us he Probably now owes his existence. The Jesuit fathers established missions for his spiritual welfare, and their ardent labors have left only memories of a mysterious jargon and youthful days spent in drud- gery. To thi; day the Pomo’s faith in the coyote as the creator of all things, as Gillok, as the avenger of every fault, re- wains unshaken. The Pacific coast north of San Fran- cisco is noted for rough weather and a €angerets shore. broken in but few places ficiently to form harbors. The southern that long promontory which pro- jects just north of Bodeza bay, and guards its ent as for Countless years been the f: in fact about the only, fish camp for Indians in all that region. They core regular intervals, ranging the beach in search of mollusks and other marine life cast up by the breakers. Bimetallism in Shells. The Pomo can be termed a bimetallist, for, though metal is used in his coinage, yet he aptly calls his white ka yah “Injun silver,” and for gold he mints out cylinders from a handsome mottled stone called poh. Ka yah (water bone) comes from the two Well-known clam shells, Saxidormis gra- eitis ! Cardium cori They are first broken in the hand with a stone into rough- ly rounded disks, and later, by means of implement having sharp edges, angles are deftly chipped off. When he approves of the size and quality of the little pile gleaming in front of him like tiny biseults of pearl, the old coiner arises, and after much fumbling around in the m of his shah brings forth his ka win. ering machine. The principle r of this machine is familiar to certain c! es of artisans the world over, and dates back to the earliest history of China. It is an upright shaft y revolving right and left relaxation of a string ed to its top ts felt. Wood and buckskin are the only materials in its construction, except the boring point, which now is the sharpened triangular end of a js with flexed feet as a cushion in a position seemingly unendurable, and under a fervid sun the whirr, whirr, is kept vp as long as daylight itself. The drill being conical he beres from each side, to preserve an even caliber, and completes the operation by a few deft turns of a reamer held in the fingers. As the shell ¥aries in thickness, so we find ka yah varied in diameter, ranging from the size of a large porcelain button down to a disk so minute and fragile that {t is a marvel it was perforated without fracture. In fact, the hole ofttim 1 tae cane es looks larger than The Polishing. Next comes the polishing. Pieces of uni- form size are strang on willow shoots or a wire abcut a foot long, and some half doz- en of these at ¢ time are rolled side by ide under the hands, back and forth, on top of a sandstone slab, with water, iill the rough edges are scoured off and the Pieces — round and polished. This is essen- 'y a man’s work, requiring strength. dexterity, judgment ‘and endurance. The lime and water produce a corroding fluid, ean Ned riecrpr dice seams a coiner’s hands at they show their owner’ nt sresane 's profession The ka yah. now finished, is sorted into strings according to diameter and hidden in some secret recess. The hinges of the clam shell are much thicker than {ts body, @né furnish long cylinders much more val- — than the flat pieces, ranking next to poh. “Injun gold,” or poh, comes from a stone, @ species of magnesite, found under the alluvium bordering Clear lake, California, and occurs in lumps oval from attrition, and about eight inches in length. When newly mined by the Indian its surface is crumbly and degenerate, but fracture re- veals a in milky white and of a hard- Ness sufficient to turn tool steel. ‘The mass must now be baked. A pit about the size of a wash basin is dug, in and over which a fire is kept burning till the ashes fill it. Then the stone fs dropped in and covered with ashes and the fire re- pienishe d. It takes about four hours to ‘cook”” the kabey, after which ft 1s remov- ed while in a certain red heat, and plunged into a basket of boiling water. A mild ex- Plosion accompanies the plunge, rendering the stone into some dozen jagged fraz- iments, and ofttimes, when unskillfully done, instant disintegration follows and somebody gets hurt. Shaping Poh. As iron enters somewhat into this min- eral’s composition, a vivid red exhibits its oxide after excesstve heat and moisture. One can hardly believe it the same as the white stone of a few hours ago; for it 1s now as fragile as glass and mottled throughout with every shade, from burnt sienna to translucent porcelain. Each fragment is surveyed with critical eyes to Getermine the largest perfect cylinder to be obtained from it. Next comes the most careful of all the coiner’s work, shaping the poh, which is «d by chipping off minute par- 1 the shape is approximated. In bygone days the piece was held in the hand d gently struck with the edge of a quartz hemmer, but the Indian has discovered in sheep shears a more expeditious tool. A single unskillful blow breaks and ruins the poh, already. perhaps, having two weeks’ labor upon i Bei f grindstore became known siabs of silicious stone found in the neigh- berhood were used for scouring the piece down with water. The grindstone has halved this work. A computation has been made of time epent in al labor upon a certain piece © rough poh, and it took nearly ten hours of skilled white labor. with the best of modern tools (diamond point excepted) to bring it into shape. To this must be added two hours for lathe boring and polishing, us consuming a full day. Boring the Considering the fact were ignoi that the Indians nt of the mechanical value of Precious stones (the sapphire was well known), it is a difficult matter to deter- mine just what they formerly used to bore poh. Traditions mention three substances, quartz, obsidian and flint, are as hard as poh. Metals are out of the question, and the shaping of a sapphire Point equally improbable. All efforts for years to obtain this information have been Without result, and the unvarying answer is, “Moul kabey bechu” (Some little reck). It is positive, however, that the stone was immersed while bored, aud experiments in- Gicate that either of the three minerals mentioned renders the none of which | finance, ka yah, hot sy dah (clam shell hinge) and poh, each of them with a pur- chasing power among the Indians compar- ing respectively to our coppers, bits (12% cents) and gold. There is no standard size and weight; each piece is valued accord- ing to its finish, size and material. Counterfeits appeared as early as 13816, when the Russian explorer, Kuskoff, or- dered made and sent, him a certain pat- tern of glass beads fo trade with wild tribes in New Albion. A number of these beads were exhumed from a very old grave not long ago, and proved to be good imitations both in form and color, but quite lacking in luster. Counterfeiting Punished. It is recorded that the wild tribes soon detected the cheat and cast them out with abhorrence. Tradition confirms the record with added details of how three Russian traders of charlil kol (devil's beads) were taken unawares and their heads burned with the beads. Visitors at the rancheria cannot fail to note the number of coiners at work, , knowing that wampum has no favor with the grocer, often ask why so much labor is spent on a money that will not buy. No, it does not directly buy any more than our dollar would in some ultra-for- eign shop. It must be exchanged first and the coin of that country proffered instead. So with the Pomo. When in need of a commodity and short of cash he takes a string of ka yah to his neighbor and ex- changes 120 pieces for a ‘silver doilar, or a $10 poh for $8 cash. He is content, while the neighbor makes a good brokerage on the transaction. Pomo wampum_ appre- ciates with distance from its makers; in fact. is at a handsome premium in the Sac- ramento valley and in other distant rancherias. ——_+e+—____. NEW FIND OF HUGO LETTERS. Interesting Pictures of His Economy im Early Life. Paris Letter to the Philadelphia Ledger. Some interesting letters written from Vic- tor Hugo to his wife during his exile in Brussels in 1851-52 have just been puvushed here for the first time. They show the great poet in a very human light, for he writes, as it were, in his dressing gown and slippers in the most unaffected and chatty manner possible. Thus in one of the earliest of the letters he urges his wife to be economical, and to take pains to carefully eke out the money that he has left her. He himself, he says, has enough to go on with for some time, for 100 francs will amply suffice him for a month’s ex- penses. His lodging cost him but one franc a day, his breakfast half a franc, his din- ner a franc and a quarter and his fire 25 centimes. The remaining 10 francs, he de- clares, will suffice to pay his laundress and to defray his little out-of-pocket expenses. His son, Charles, was living on the same scale. This is how the poet spent his day: “I rise at 8 o'clock in the morning and call Charles, who, nevertheless, stays in bed. I then work, keeping on till noon, the breakfast hour. At 3 I sit down again to work and stay writing till dinner; then un- til 10 stro:ling about or making calls. From 10 to midnight work. At midnight I make my bed and lie down. The sheets are hard- ly bigger than table napkins, and the blan- kets are the size of a small table cloth. I | have invented a mode of knitting them to- gether so as to have my feet covered, and will unravel the knitting before I give up the room. I have the bed to air every day, and make it every evening. Charles sleeps like a top.” In another letter he describes his call on M. Rogier, the minister of the interior, to whom he was very frank con- cerning his intentions. Hugo told him that he considered it was his duty to write the history of the events he had just witnessed in Paris while they were fresh In his mem- ory. He felt, therefore, that ne could ac- cept no conditions as regards his stay in Belgium. The Belgian government might evict him if they saw fit. But he asks his wife whether the course he is determined to take might inure to the disadvantage of his sons. ‘Tell me what you think,” he says. “If afiything I might write were likely to injure them I should swallow my anger and keep silence. In this case I shall confine myself to finishing my book, ‘Les Miseries.’ "—afterward, of course, the celebrated ‘Les Miserables.” “Who knows? This may be my only chance of finishing it. M. Rogier said that if I published now my stay in Brussels might seriously em- barrass the government. Belgium was a little state with a strong and violent neigh- bor. I said: ‘Well, if I decide to publish, I shall go to London.’ We left on friendly terms. He offered me some shirts. as a matter of fact, I need them.. I am without clothes or body linen. Take the empty trunk and fill-it with my things. Do not forget to pack in it my gray hose and drawers, my second-best trousers, my old gray trousers, my coat, my surtout with military braiding. You will find the hood on the carved oak settle. I also need the new pair of shoes. Besides the pair at home I ordered another pair at Kuhn’s, in the Rue de Valois. Send for and pay for them (18f.) and stuff them into the trunk.” Later on he writes: “To succeed in ry work here I must live like a Stoic, and in poverty. I say to every one that I have no need of money. My wants are few and I can wait. Those who want money must be the prey of money lenders. They are lost. Look at Dumas. I am in a garret with no furniture but a table, two chairs and a wretcned bed. I work the whole day and hardly feel my poverty, and can live on 100 fr.a month. Offers of services crowd upon me. Today a young man introduced him- self in a cafe. He was a painter and wanted to paint me in my garret and give me the picture. The burgomaster has been to see me, and asked what he could do for me. ‘Just one thing.’ ‘What is it?” ‘Not to whitewash the facade of your Hotel de Ville.’ ‘You don’t mean to say 80; is it not nicer to have it white than dirty” ‘No, it's better dirty.’ ‘Well, then, to please you there shall be no whitewash.’ ‘Since you want to be agreeable, darken the bel- fry; you have made it look brand new.’” sti oe ee A THE BIRTHPLACE OF “PICKWICK.” One of Dickens’ Earlier Homes to Be Demolished. From the London Sketch. With the imperding removal of Furni- val’s Inn, to make way for modern resi- dential flats, one of the too few remains of Dickens’ London will disappear. It was scon after he entered the gallery, at the age of nineteen, and about the year 1831, that Charles Dickens first occupied cham- bers fn the inn. He did not, it would seem, go there direct from the parental home, for his eldest son has told us that his father’s bachelor Ife began in lodgings at Buckingham street, Strand. But Fur- uival’s Inn was Dickens’ home during the Morning Chronicle days, and his earliest letter dealing with literary matters is written from No. 15. From Furnival’s Inn are dated the ori; nal prefaces to the “Sketches by Boz,” and here he has told us that one day, when he was a young man of two or three and twenty, he opened the door to Mr. Hall, a partner in the then newly established publishing firm of Chapman & Hall, who came to propose “a something that should be published in shiiling num- bers,” and “Pickwick” was the result. Here Dickens brovght home his wife in April, 1836—when the first number had just appeared of the book which made him famous—and here his eldest son was born. Dickens left Furnival’s Inn in March, 1837, and more than thirty years passed ere he again mounted its stairs, when in the summer of 1869 he showed Mr. Fields, at the request of the latter, where the first page of “Pickwick” was written. be ‘That Dickens cherished pleasant recol- lections of his early home those pages. of “Martin Chuzzlewit” which picture the de- lights of honest John Westlock’s: bachelor chambers surely testify. But “there is Hit- tle enough to see in Furnival’s Inn,” he tells us. “It is a shady, quiet place, echo- ing to the footsteps of the stragglers who have business there, and rather monoto- nous and gloomy on summer evenings.” Advantages of Worrying a Little. From the Atchison Globe. ‘ Don’t join a Don't Worry Club. Don’t try not to worry. While contentment is a ANIMALS ONCE WILD Queer Traits in Many of Our Domestic Pets. * Why a Hog Makes Such = Pig of Him- a the Rabbit's Tall | * . is White. From Blackwood's Magasine.. Dr. Louis Robinson has made an interest- ing volume by taking in order the domestic animals and showing us some of the traits which mark them out as having been once wild. While some of his instances are ob- vious enough, others seem almost too in- gcnious to be scientific. It is easy to agree that, when a watch dog barks, his action is traceable to the old instinct for guard- ing the lair of the pack; that the speed and staying power of the horse were developed in the first place to enable him to escape from his gaunt, persistent foe, the wolf; ‘or that cows chew the cud because in early times they had to get in a store of food rapidly whenever they cculd, and were obliged to masticate it afterward when they were safe from the other beasts that haunted their feeding-grounds. We can even accept the terms “canine political economy” and “communal canine moral- ity’ as having some sort of meaning in the dog wofid. But Dr. Robinson is far from being content with the obvious. In a very interesting passage he formulates the theory that the markings of tabby cats are an instance of that “protective mimic- ry” which is common enough among flying and creeping things, but is supposed to be almost unknown among mammals. Eagles, he has found, are particularly fond of the flesh of animals of the cat tribe (this is not a discovery, though Dr. Robin- son has strong confirmation to bring for- ward); and he points out that, when a tabby is curled up asleep, its markings, looked at from above, are curiously ser- pentine—so much so that an eagle might easily mistake it for its dreaded enemy, the snake. Again, the spitting and hissing of a cat closely resemble the sounds made by serpents, and the head of an angry cat, “with ears pressed flat, eyes glassy and staring and exposed fangs,” might well be mistaken for that of a large snake. The deception would be heightened, too, by the snake-like movement of the cat’s tail, and from these similarities Dr. Robinson de- duces his theory. Whatever doubt we may have as to the protective meaning of the concentric bands vpen the sleeping ocelot or tabby, or of the attitude, movement and utterances which characterize a cat at bay, there can, I think, be no two opinions as to the cause of origin, and as to the protective value, of the hiss when uttered by helpless young creatures such as those we have been dis- cussing. And if the latter part of the case be admitted, I do not see where the skep- tic is to draw the line and say, “This may be true protective mimicry, but this must be accounted for on other grounds.” Dr. Robinson would be pleased if he could regard the fluffy white tails of rab- bits as emblems of altruism on the part of these engaging little creatures. He has no doubt that the tails serve as danger sig- nals when itis too dark for their brown bodies to be seen, but he sadly dismisses the altruistic theory (how Uncle Remus would have appreciated it) and compares the arrangement of which the tails stand as evidence to “such highly civilized and prosaic things as rates and taxes.” Certainly our rabbit or deer confers a benefit on his fellows at some expense to himself. But we know—because of the universal character of the above law, if for no other reason—that he gets back from the community every bit as much as he gives * * * Thus, supposing the life of a rabbit {s threatened twenty times a year (a very moderate estimate) through his rendering himself specially visible, he receives more than twenty warnings from the caudal danger signals of his fellow- citizens of the presence of dangerous foes which might otherwise kill him. The re- sult, as I have said, is very much like what one finds in civilized human communities. Dr. Robinson (to take one more instance of his suggestive illustrations) is inclined to defend the domestic pig from the charge of greediness, usually laid at ita door, He would have us remember that the hog in its wild state was obliged to devote all his attention to food when he could get -it, and to put on as much flesh as possible so as to last out through the winter upon short commons. You will thus see that the hog which had amassed within his own private bank a shilling’s worth of adipose savings more than his fellows, would in an exceptionally protracted and inclement winter be one of the few to survive. He would naturally transmit his talents to his progeny, and thus it comes about that in the present day no animal so handsomely responds to liberal feeding as the domestic pig. ——_—_—_<e0o____—_ COREA’S CAPITAL. The Filthy Condition of the Streets ef Seoul. From Mrs. Bird's ‘Corea and Her Nelghbors."” I know Seoul by day and night, its pal- aces and its slums, its unspeakable mean- ness and faded splendors, its purposeless crowds,its mediaeval processions, which for barbaric splendor cannot be matched on earth, the filth of its crowded alleys, and its pitiful attempt to retain its manners, customs and identity as the capital of an ancient monarchy in the face of the host of disintegrating influences which are at work; but it is not at first that ‘one takes it in.” I had known it for a year be- fore I appreciated it, or fully realized that it is entitled to be regarded as one of the great capitals of the world. * * * Look- ing down on this great city, which has the aspect of a lotus-pond in November, or an expanse of over-ripe mushrooms, the eye naturally follows the course of the wall, which is discerned in the most outlandish Places, climbing Nam-San in one direction and going clear over the crest of Puk-han in another, inclosing a piece of forest here and a vacant plain there, descending into ravines, disappearing and reappéaring when least expected. This wail, which contrives to look nearly as solid as the hill- sides which it climbs, is from 25 feet to 40 feet in height and fourteen miles in cir- cumference, battlemented along its entire length, and pierced by eight gateways, solid arches or tunnels of stone, surmount- ed by lofty gate-houses with one, two, or three curved tiled roofs. * * * I shrink from describing intra-mural Seoul. I thought it the foulest city on earth till I saw Peking, and its smells the most odious, till I encountered those of Shao-shing. For @ great city and a capital, its meanness is indescribable. Etiquette forbids the erection of two-storied houses, consequently an es- timated quarter of a million people are liv- ing on “the ground,” chiefly in labyrinthine alleys, many of them not wide enough for two loaded bullocks to pags, indeed, barely wide enough for a man to pass a loaded bull, and further narrowed by a series of vile erp green, slimy ditches, which re- geive thé solid and liquid refuse of the houses, their foul and fetid margins being’ the favorite resort of half-naked children, begrimed with dirt, and of big, mangy, blear-eyed dogs, which wallow in the slime or blink in the sun. is ae Roadside Tree Planting. From the Providence Journal. The planting of trees and hedges along country roads shoul be encouraged. Shade prevents rapid drying of macadam, and hedges break the force of the winds which on unprotected highways blow the dust away, leave the stone RANDOM. YERSE. ee eS Ot hee mm Written for The EveningStar by Annie A. Hughes. It in wy mind there lived 4, single doubt of fii- mortality, at ‘One glance into thine eyes has cast it out, and in reality 7 ait But must live on and "th ppite of death. ‘Thy name and all thy jateregts in life to me up- known, and yet, And the embodiment of.mll that's good. —_——— The Opa}. From the Chicago Record. * thoa the annal fOr ‘Abel ‘and Cain Ht preal Ot iden fair plain— duly honored, he other in vain? ‘This with its biéseoms And frutt of the vine— That with the living, ‘ And therefore divine; ‘This one unlighted, And that cne asbine? Art-thou the mingled Passions at heart— Of its nobler part? ‘The blood of the victim ‘That cried from the Forgiveness that followed mee See e anguish of Eden When Abel was found? ‘The crystalline mirror ‘Of hope.and despair? The glad fountain frozen Reflecting and bolding jecting anc ing ‘The base and the fair? Such are the thoughts ‘The opal inspire Such are the glea ‘What flash in its fires, The mirth and the madness ‘Of human desires. —<oo—__ Cheer Up! good cheer, there is some heart, dy to bear with us a port Of burdens which are on us cast, ast; rugged way} Some smile to cheer us day by day; Some angel, with a radiant brow, Is walking ‘with us, even now! HENRY S. WASHBURN. —+-2-—_____ The Wind. Edward W. Dutcher in Pall Mall Magazine. Out from cna caves I spring at morn, Freed from my thrall at last: With an angry coar and a cry of scorn, A challenge I blow on my brazen horn, With fierce and deflant blast. ‘The ships at sea are my easy prey, And I drive them before my breath Through the midnight gloom till the break of day, Out from the hold of the sheltering bay, ‘To whirl in a waltz with death. ‘The sturdy cak of a hundred years Like a reed I twirl and break, ‘Then rush away with a thousand cheers, Nor heed the ery that is wrought in tears For the hayoc my legions make. No human hand can compel to rest \ My steed untrammeled and wild, But a volce comes to me gut,of the west, And I ruffle the down cn thé sparrow's breast ‘And kiss the lips of a thildF Se Isn't Tt Awful? From the Toronto Glo! There 1s a lttle salden Who hus an awfl She has to hurry hvfully ‘To get to school at nti. She has an awful teacher; pee ines are areal and, r flaymntes aretall\awful rough ‘When playing inthe yard. She has an awful’Eitty? ‘Who often shows her‘elawa; A dog who Jumps aponsher dress With awful muddy pass. She has a taby sister With ao awful little moge, With awful cunning digples, ai And, gpch awtul,gittly toes... Phe Bis'two ttt brothers, And they are awful. boy: With their awful di ‘And make dy awf Do come, I pray thee, common sense, Come and this maid defend; Or else, I fear, her awful life Will have an awful end. eee Love and Friendship. Love and Friendship came this way, By our village, t'other day. ibs and trumpets, noise, iiship wore 2 ‘cloak of gold, Rich and full with many a fold} ad but bow and arrows, bi And he aimed at men and sparrows, Ever singing, ever gay. “Gammer, gammer, eh true, Which of us may sup wit! Some chose Love, that laughing fied Ere the morning clouds were . While whoso had Friendship bidden . —BLANCHE “Lixpsar. Es The Derelict. I was the stanchest of our fleet ‘Till the sea rose beneath our feet Unheralded, in hatred past all measure; Into his pits be stamped iy Buffeted, blinded, bound a1 Bidding me eyeless wait upon his Man made me, and Is to my maker still, Whom row the currents con, the rollers steer— Lifting—forlorn to spy ‘railed smoke along the sky; Falllng—afratd, lest any keel come neart Blind in the hot blue ring, Through all my points I swing— Swing, and etura to shift the sun anew. ; ind in my well-known sky, I hear the stars go by, Mocking the prow that cannot hold one true! | Z that was clean to run ly race against the sun, Strength on the deep, am bawd to all disaster— hipped forth by night to meet va Wala Tis Daag ae her maser with a kiss r to her i —RUDYARD KIPLING. —— Applied Mathematics. From the Cap and Gown. “My daughter,” and bis voice was ster, What time did the Sophomore leave Who sent in bis card last night?” “His work was pressing, father, dear, “And ‘his love tor it was great: He took his leave and went aw: Before a quarter of eigh' Then, twinkle caine #9 ber bright blue eyes, Ww, « "tie surely to sin‘ to teal nim that, For a quarter of eight is two. The Little Streets. Aeple Hamilton Donnell 1g the Youth's Companion. “Tomorrow I'll do tf." Bennley “1 will by and. Seth; “Not now- i By Jennies “In u mingte, Saays title Beth, t, true a8 tl —— +00 ‘Journey Fellows.. Bliss Carman tn the Independent. I wondered who fi — ‘pace with me s5 1 pranderet through E id to the | i i Pa fees ibe ot tne forest toll, wind ts a z the leaves mast mountam side.’ ld to the rain, t Town Tieetion Gur brother the rain of the silvery multitudes of the rain, 5 i ETE i I t i i i i 23 THE PATERNAL, CiTY What the Progress of Municipal Reform May Come To. The Many Ways in Which Life May Be Made More Healthful, Safe and Enjoyable. From the Minneapolis Tribune. That the city of the future is to be a very different thing from the city of the present is as certain as that the human race is to advance. Nobody believes that our extrav- agant expenditures for Ught, for instance, are to be kept up, because a time is coming when the people will demand the same sort and amount of service for themselves in a mass as for themselves individually. No- body believes that the operations of the board of health will be so feeble as to al- low barking dogs, braying donkeys, crow- ing cocks, jangling bells, shrieking steam whistles and smoking chimneys to be har- bored in the quarters of a dense population, or watered milk to be sold, as it now !s, or things intended to be used for food to be put on the sidewalks, exposed to the dust and filth of the streets, and the friendly attentions of every passing dog. Nobody believes that quarts of things will be open- ly sold that only measure a pint, or liquids sold in bottles that have a big hump under- neath that will crowd out a couple of gills, or coal be sold as a ton that weighs 1,500 pounds. Nobody believes that in fifty years from now a whole street will have to be torn up whenever a drain Is to be re- paired, or water is to be put into a house, or a gas or sewer connection is to be made, or telephone wires to be introduced. No- body believes that in fifty years hundreds of thousands of people will be living as famiues in single rooms, in our big cities, some of the rooms unlighted and none of them sufficiently ventilated. When it is shown, as it is by statisticlans, that the death rate among people in the tenements is over 163 to the thousand, as compared with a rate of less than five and one-hait in the thousand among the people who live in clean houses, it becomes a question of immediate importance whether the city is doing its duty by not at once closing these moral and political as well as soci. and material pest holes. Americans are slow to accept any more government than is necessary, but once it is resolved upon, no peopie are more obew- ent to it. That many of the evils under which the cities suffer are capable of amending, and at slight expense, is clear enough. When it is realized that the neg- lect of obvious duty has a deterrent effect upon right, as in the case of the grocer or butcher and milk merchant, who are al- lowed to cheat or to offer soiled and tainted food; when it is shown that it has an ill effect upon health to confine children in overcrowded school rooms and unyentilated factories; when it is shown that it operates against life itself to tolerate the tenement system and the sweating system, a free people will insist upon the strictest regula- tion of those things by law. Reform is coming in many ways. Our principal streets are no longer made hid- eous with ragged poles and overhead wires, In a few years more we shall have the Paris system of tunnels beneath the streets for the accommodation of sewers, water pipes, steam pipes, gas pipes, telegraph, telephone and electric wires, so that re- pairs and extensions can be made without stopping travel or permanently marring the smoothness ai.. neatness of streets, shese are but examples and indications ® many reforms that will soon be compulsory in all our American cities. e+ ENGLISHMAN OF ROMANCE, Sir Edwin Arnold’s Life in the Flow- ery Kingdom. From the Philadelphia Record. Sir Edwin Arnold, who legalized his union with a fascinating Japanese widow by an English marriage service in London recent- ly, was always cosmopolitan in his ideas. Surely no Englishman born and bred has ever succeeded in merging his own individ- uality into that of other people’s as the author of “The Light of Asia” and “The Light of the World” has done. When he was in India in his young days his work showed his intense sympathy with the Bud- dhists, and in the preface to “The Light of Asia” he wrote: “This book was written by one who loved India and the Indian people.”” For two scores of years he was English to the core of his heart in the editorials he wrote for the London Telegraph, and in 1890 he came to America, seemed quite able to understand us (as few of his country- men could do), and then he went on to Japan and immediately began to live a la Japanais. He lived in a native house, left his shoes at his door, slept on a thick quilt and, they say, ate in true Japanese style. In his bed- room he had a cheap European washstand. two Japanese chests of drawers of white wood and black iron work, and the usual sliding cupboards, into which his bed was put when it was roligd up in the daytime. ‘The walls of the room were of tissue aper panels powdered with silver maple at and a clear glass belt ran around the room “at a height inconducive to pro- priety,” as one correspondent of the day remark ‘The drawing room was glass paneled from door to ceiling, and the only thing in the whole house that hinted at other civiliza- tions was an American stove, which stood in one of the corners. With such surroundings it is not much wonder that the impressionable poet found himself going through the ceremony of tea drinking with his charming companton of the hour, and that he was content- to ac- cept the ceremony as a bona fide marriage is tribute to his kinship with genius that since the world began has ever flaunted a little the staid laws and regulations that ordinarly folks find necessary to comfort- able existence. it was in Japan, by the way, that tr Edwin began “The Light of the World, and, indeed, completed it, too, during his stay of several years. JEALOUSY AS A DISEASE. A London Doctor's Peculiar Experi- ence With a Paten: Brom the London Mail. Dr. William O'Neill, late physician to several Lincoln institutions, sends the fol- lowing account of a strange experience to the Lancet. It describes a case of that very old and commonplace complaint, Jealousy, or “spirit of jealousy,” as it is named in the Scriptures, where it is fully described and treated. he states, I was re- quested to visit a lady who, it was repre- sented to me, was very ill and required ‘The man was about thirty-five years of age, small in stature, swarthy in complexion and plain looking. The wife ‘as a striking contrast to her husband. She was rather tall, remarkably fair and and thrust her arms and legs about, to the no small danger of those around her. Then becoming comparatively quiet and supine, she would quiver all over, while her eye- trembled with great rapidity. This state perhaps would be followed by gen- eral convulsive movements, in which she would put herself in the most grotesque postures and make the most unlovely At last the fit ended, and, exhausted and in tears, she was put to bed. The patient was a lithe, muscular wo- man, and to restrain her movements dur- ing the attack with the assistance at hand was a matter of impossibility; so all that could be done was to prevent her in- juring herself and to sprinkle her freely ‘with cold water. The after treatment was more geographi- cal than medical. The husband ceased do- ing business in a certain town where the object of his wife's suspicions lived. He Was enabled to do so by the kindness of a friend, who exchanged part of his dis- trict with him. The fit was not the disease, but it was the symptom or manifestation of a mind diseased or deranged, the state of the mind being the result of a woman's broodings over her real or imaginary wrongs. ——_-+e-+___—___ THE LOST KOMSTOCKER. A_ Rediscovered Mine Reca the Story of a Crazy Swede’s Rich Find. From the St. Louls Globe-Democrat. “Mining regions can turn up more pecu- Mar facts and romances and superstitions than any other localities in the world, for the reason that all classes and conditions of men bump elbows with one another in @ booming mining camp,” said N. O. Har- desty of Denver. “Last summer there was a boom in Whisky Park, a mining district near Co- lumbine, Col., and there was a rush of miners and prospectors to locate claims. During the excitement a man of the name of Martin pushed out several miles ahead of Whisky Park, and while prospecting one day found a pile of rocks that attract- ed his attention on account of the peculiar way in which they had been arranged. The rocks bore the appearance of having been piled together by the hand of man. Martin began to investigate, and he remov- ed but a few rocks until he found an old shaft. This old shaft had been abandoned and the top covered with this pile of rocks. It was evident from other reasons that some man had covered the shaft, as the recks bore pick marks. The snows of many winters had been melting in the mountains and washing down debris that had almost filled this shaft to the surface. Further investigation proved that this old shaft had been sunk on an extensive lead, and that it had been filled and abandoned after much money had been spent in de- velopment work. Near by was also found a large pile of mining timbers, rotted down partly to a dust heap, but still show- ing signs of having been carefully stacked. It was estimated that it would take at least thirty years for a pile of mining tim- bers to rot in this way. Therefore the conclusion was drawn that this mine had not been worked for thirty years. Them the questions arose: What was the name o1 the mine? Whose property was it? Why was it abandoned? Did this oid shaft leaa to great riches? “Of course the accidental discovery of the pile of rocks, the finding of the old shaft and the pile of mining timbers created much gossip throughout the district. The old-time miners, sitting around their camp fires at night, revived the story of the losc Komstocker, and it is an interesting story of the pioneer days of Colorado. lt is & sad story of a poor, lonely Swede in search of gold. The name of this Swede is not known. He made his appearance in Raw- lins, Wyo., soon after the Union Pacific railroad was completed. Everybody consid- ered him to be slightly daft, and he was the butt for the jokes of the rough miners and frontiersmen. He was calied the ‘crazy Swede.’ He was a believer in spiritualism, and as he had been an old employe on the Comstock lode he declared that the spirits had informed him that he would be the discoverer of a mine far richer than that lode. He thoroughly believed that he would find another ‘Komstocker,’ as he expressed it in his Ole Olsen dialect. The Swede had saved several hundred dollars by hard work and economy, and he pur- ehased a pony and a camping outfit and disappeared in the mountains to the south. While he had never been in that section, he declared that the spirits had given him secret information. All he would tell was that the spirits said he would find a rich gold mine far to the south of Rawlins, to- ward the Hahn’s Peak country, in Colo- rado, where gold had been newly discov- ered. The Swede dropped out of sight, and he was almost forgotten in the rush and change of the pioneer towns. “But the following spring, after the Swede had been absent one year, he came into Rawlins one day, and his pony was loaded down with bags of rich ore. He was extremely secretive, but dropped the remark that he had found his ‘Komstock- er,’ as he called it. He sold his ore, bought new supplies and two more ponies, The word went around that the ‘crazy Swede’ had struck it rich, and there was much ox citement among the miners. The Swede was watched, as the miners and prospect- ors intended to follow him when he left town; but he was shrewd enough to di- vine their intentions, and he eluded his Watchers. Nobody could find his trail. The next fall a number of cowboys in a round-up near the present location of Dixon, Wyo., found the carcasses of a saddle pony and two pack animals, and also found the saddles. They were identi- fied as the property of the Swede. The Swede was never seen or heard of after he left Rawlins the last time. It is supposed that he was murdered. Years afterward the old miners in that section still told the story of the lost Komstocker. Now the story of the poor Swede is revived since Martin's discovery.” —————_+e+_______ The Blessings of the Nile. From the Philadelphia Press. From the beginning the Nile was an ex- ceptional river. Its sources were unknown. There were those who thought that the Nile flowed down from heaven; that it welled up from streams that disappeared under the earth on another continent, or, at the very least, that its springs were in- accessible to man. There was no such mystery about the Euphrates. From the remotest times its sources seem to have been known by hearsay, if not by obser- vation, to the dwellers on the coast. The Nile was beneficent even in its floods. The people learned to let the waters flow over their lands at the time of the inundation, and when they ratsed dikes and sunk canals and basins it was to let in the wa- ter, not to keep it out. The Euphrates also had its floods, but these were de- structive. They scarred the soft earth with ravines and swept the fertile soil on- ward to build new lands along the edge of the Persian gulf. The people anticipated the overflow with dread, and their most TURNING TURTLES A Night With a Conch in the Gulf of Mexico. —_——.___ RARE AND EXCITING KIND OF SPORT Seely Riding the Green Fellows and Pegging Loggerheads. — KNOCKDOWN FLIPPERS Frem the New York Post. “D'ye see that old wreck over yander?” said the Coach, pointing to some timbers which were visible in the moonlight “That's a curious thing, now: there's the hull of @ big ship in water so shoal that yo’ kin walk round it in dead low tide, They tell a curious story how old John— a pilot back yander—tried to take her through the five-foot channel an’ missed it, Some say he wracked her on purpose; ari hew, there was dogguned curious things about it. I uf The Conch stopped in his recital though paralyzed; then, grasping my arm, he pulled me down fiat upon the sand and whispered the mysterious word “Turkle!” We lay quiet, not moving a hand, hardly breathing, a few moments, then peered over a little ridge of sand. Directly in the pathway of the moon, as it joined the sands, was @ round object, which glistened in the light—the head of a turtle. The animal had come in almost opposite to us, and was resting its fore flippers on the sand, and, with its head above water, reconnoitering, its long, deep sighing hiss had at once caught the ear of the Conch. ‘Te turtle rested in this way for five min- utes, then, satisfied that the coast was clear, it clambered heavily and clumsily cut of the water and moved slowly up the send, occasionally stopping and raising its bullet-shaped head, then letting it drop upen the sand. The higher it crawled the more cautions it became, its huge black shape being easily seen cn the sand. It finally halted on a@ line with our position, about ten feet from the bushes, which tho fea never reached except in the heaviest ga:es, anc where the cand was soft and covered with sponges, sea-fans and other rejectamenta of the sea. Here the turtle kegan to dig, evidently using its hind flip- pers in throwing out the sand. The Ri When the digging ceased the Conch whispered, “She's layin’, now's our time,” and he began to wriggle upon his hands and knees toward the water, and bade me do us he did. We had moved perhaps halt way down to the water, when he sprang to his fcet, and we poth rushed at the tur- tle. Being between it and the water, it cavght sight ef us on the instant, and evi- denuy had not begun to lay, as it turned and mude so vigorous a flapping to reach the water that I fell completely over it in my eegerness and lack of ski “This side, this side! Quick all together!” cried the Conch. He had seized the side of the shell, and, recovering my feet, almost blinded by tne sand which the animal scattered with her Nipper, I grasped the edge of the shell aud lifted. It was easier said than done, as, being next to the head, a location which I learned later was given to green hands, L received a telling biow over the neck the moment the enimal was lifted, me against the Conch, who, . lost bis hold and went dewn. The turtle lost no time, but kept her powerful fore flippers pounding the sand at a terrific rate, and when touched turned her head in my direc- tion in a way that did not encourage any undue familiarity. Again we rushed to the attack, and again the flying fore Mipper, that went through the air like the arm of a Dutch wirdmill, Grove me from the posi- tion “Yo’ mus’ hol’ on, sab!” cried Buddy, breathing hard and settling back on sand, with both hands grasping a hii Mipper. “Yo’ mus’ hol’ on, or she'll tote us right over yander.” Pounded d Hammered. In point of fact, the turtle had been tow- ing us from the first, and every moment she was diminishing the distance between us and the water. I hed never realized that there is so much sport and variety in turtle turning, and had always imagined it a prosaic work. This engagement had been short, but I had already been pounded and hammered in a manner which suggested the rounds of a prize fight from the stand- point of the second-best man. The turtle was so heavy that she would have been a good weight under the most favorabie circumsian and 1 was becom- ing discouraged when the Conch suddealy " Now then, While I held back, with a powe: ful effort, he lifted her on edge, anc w literally bowled her over upon her back, where she beat her breast and ground hef flippers into the sand in her rage. “She was sorter heavy and lively,” re- marked Buddy, wiping his face on his sieeve and shaking the sand from his ears. I quite agreed with him; and, in all the vart- ous turns and experiences had since them I never went through a harder battle. Half an hour later a movement to the north suggested that the party were mak- ing a turn, ard in the course of an houf Buddy and I had another experience—this time with a big loggerbead, which bit tna plank and snapped at us Viciously as we Tushed to the attack. In all, five turtles were turned that night. Their flippers were slit at once and tied together with rove yarn, and the following day they were tak- en to Garden Key and released in a big “erawi.” Here they had a swimming pen of a quarter of a mile in length, and whenever it became necessary to catch one, a scene was enacted that, for excitement, defies adequate description. The turtles spent most of their time lying on the eandy bot- tom, asleep, occasionally rising to the sur- face to utter a long sigh or inhalation, and it was at this time that they were captured. ———_— +#+ —— — Finally Explained. From tbe Atlanta Constitution. Some time ego a gentleman of Iterary tastes, who subscribes for all the best magazines, read a poem in his favorite periodical—read and re-read it, but failed to grasp its meaning. He was persuaded, however, that it had a meaning of its own; or it would not have appeared in a period- foal enjoying a reputation as a judge of good Hterature. He, therefore, submitted it to a critic who made a specialty of that kind of work, but the latter returned it with the indorsement: “You're too much for me this time! I sat up with it three nights, but I'm not in vraag th, and can't lose any more sleep over it.” This was discouraging, but, still vinced that there must be som ily letter