Evening Star Newspaper, June 4, 1898, Page 14

n for Th Phe Presi signed for actly a new E not ex- d an ordnance office of th army to a Star reporter, ugh it is new as far as the idea of a rned. The navy got up general flag is aP ent’s flag for President Arthur, but 1 it but o1 an trip up to New York on the pre: dential yacht, ch, and the ques- tion was raised t provisions of ution he the ¢ itution forbids the ving the United States while is President. It was urged on him that if he flew a presidential flag on the Des- he would be in the United States, in >; that fs, he would not violate the Constitutional provision, while sailing under it, even if he did go out on the ocean. General Arthur, who was a lawyer himself, wedded to the idea, but h2 nions of others prevail and he trip, but that was all he would ‘e then the pre ntial flag has never beea used, and I am not exactly clear what has become of it. I am very clear, however, ia the opinion that no President will ever make an ocean trip under it, un- less there is some change mad> in that par- ticular provision of the Constitution, which ; likely to happen. While at New- port President Arthur had a talk with Jus- tice MI then on the L ed States Su- pr>me and Jeremiah Black of Penn- syivania, who was one of the leading con- stitutional lawyers of the country. They both told him that it matters not what kind of a flag he tlew, or who made it, it Was a dangerous pr ing in every par- ticular, and it we be better that it should not be repe That settled the de ree Black , as far as ocean trips was = the same evening Jere- toid miah Ardrew Johnston, when he once consulted him cn a involved the same ple. It appears that President Johnston, during a visit to gara F: took a carriage ride, and hout t ing much where the driver found himself on the Can- ver. He remained there returning imediately to taking hi an side of t but a few minutes the American side. A paragr: the newspapers of the ride, whi the F ent so much hat he pe wspaper writers to refrain from mentioning it. of this wa licity © The result that there was but little pub- zi to the incident, though I recently conversed with a newspaper man who saw Pre Johnston Canadian seil, but who, his solicitation, never made any pub m of the matter. Judge Black toid President Arthur that he had to tell Pres that although he the agues out t ke % “It surpi . as well stantly,” observed an reporter, “the way sp2ll the word inclosur The Siate Depart both words So does the and indorsement. res to spel instead of an ‘i.’ and Agricultural De- ents. The War and Navy Depart- om the other hand, make it ‘in- dors>ment’ and ‘indorsement,” while three- fourths of the officers of both branches of the service spell it endorsement and enclo- Interic su I have no doubt that either or both are right. The strange part of it is that some official way has not be2n adopted that will appiy to all of the departments. The board of geographical names has performed a really valuable service in the settlement of the spelling of gographical names, and the siandard being once officially arrangea there will be no trouble in the future. It isa smal! matter, but it strikes me that the same or a similar board should settle on whet 2r inclosure and indorsement shouid yelled with ‘1’ or an ‘e.’ Often on the paper these words are. differently spelled. Of course, a clerk endeavors to fol- low th> rule of the particular department in which he is engaged, but this is not as €asy as one would suppose, for the various bureaus of the same department are con- stantly mixing up the spelling, all of them claiming to be right.” eee et “Now that the summer is again upon us,” explained a shoe dealer to a Star reporter, “; are asking as to how to prevent shoes from creaking, for as you know shoes rarely ever creak except during exceedingly dry weather or in th> summer time. There are all kinds of cures for this trouble, but the simplest, I think, is to rub a few drops of coal oil in the soles, near the edges. If this don't stop it, the nexi best thing is to me have a shoemaker drive a few wooden pegs in the s The combination of both will surely them quiet. Sewed shoes of the be often creak as much as ches The difficulty comes from cu r and outer soles. If they are not the same size they are liable to cr, Water, hot or cold, is only a te shoes are just as liable to oughly dr: reak as soon as they get thor- * * * “I little thought when I cut the initials of my name ir: the tree in Franklia Park thirty-four ~ears ago that I would ever see them egain,” said €x-officer of the 12th Regiment, New York Volunteers, to a Star reporter, “but it has come to pass. Our regiment was camp or housed, I should scy, in Franklin Park, for we built nice frame barracks there, for some months r to our joining the Army of the Po- The entrance to the camp was on midway between 12th and 14th . where the guard house was locat- a@ re amination of the tree I found my initials without much trouble, as well as the initials of a number of our men. The guard house was a square frame buflding about twenty-five feet square. It happened that I was in the guard house, with a dozen others, for having gone down to a th r one night without having se- cured the neces: pass or leave of ab- sence. We were @s a punishment t ex We found th: we could climb out throtgh the roof of the building and get up into the ticed by the tre without being no- guard, ard we spent considera- e. It was then that the of our party cut our initials in the of the big poplar that still stands a nt witness of the days when y er than we are today. The big F. R. just as the limbs fork out, and which a ly seen from the foot walk, ble of the time th whole bark he initials-ef Frank Ryan, who was of che best soldiers in our regiment. and who afierward. al Oil Johnnie, made rillior of coal oil yivania. After the olunteers, lef’ 1 United States In- Frankhn Square, the fartry was burracked in the quarters we built there, and I saw plenty of evidence ia looking up in the same tree that there young men t regiment ny one ean see, they carved on the back of the upper Ss their company letters and or.” regiment numb . * * “The frequent references to th> provost guard at Camp Alger remind me of the operations of the prevost guard in Wash- ington during the last war,” said a veteran to a Star reporter. “The provost guari is the polles force during war times, as far as the soldiers are concerned, and, indeed, ef every one else around a camp. The guard is in charge of an officer whu is de- ve. He wanted to take an; d not do so, for the | tailed as provost marshal. He is the r2p- resentative of military force and tuere is hardly any limit to his powers. In stopping. the sale of intoxicating Mquora around the outside of a camp his power ia absolute, even if martial law ts not proclaim2d, which was the cas» about Washington, Alexandria, and, indeed, all places where soldiers were camped during the last war. On learning that liquor is sold, the provost guard, with- out any further information, would proceed not only to seize al Ithe liquor that he could find, but to pour it out in the roads and Streets. I have frequently seen hundreds of dollars’ worth of liquors poured out into the street without any further ceremony. There was no appeal, for by the tim? an appeai could be taken the destruction was completed. The provost guari also paraded the streets of the city every night and took into custody ev2ry soldier who was found to be without a pass. It visited the theaters during the performances and marched around the audience looking for sidiers and officers as well, for all were subject-to its authority. Of cours? if the soldier had a pass it was all right, but if nei he was marched out of the theater and to a military prison. It was the duty of the provost guard to parade deserters through | the city, to make an example of them and | rer others to witness.”” xe OK ek * ‘The suburbs of Washington are at this season of the year particularly attractive, and a drive through the beautiful Rock Creek section, where pure and invigorating air wil not only be found comfortable, but possessed of health giving properties prob- abiy not excelled. The landscape is orna- mented by a more than undulating topog- raphy and in places it wiil be found even rugged and precipitous in the extreme, and ful murmur of the waters of Rock creek and Broad Branch afford soft and pleasing music which delights the ear. A drive or | @ walk along the 1th street road which | is almost in this Rock Creek section will be found an abundant display of rhodo- dendrons and wild laurel, at present in full bloom, of Mr. Thomas Blagden, who deserves the thanks of the community, not only for the class | of improvements which he has constructed, | but for the original manner in which he has retained the beauty of the country by | preserving the native oaks and evergreens. | Considering the fact that these attractive | sections with | | i upon the property their original features so well preserved can be found within fifteen or twenty minutes’ walk of the electric cars and indeed within the same distance of the city, one may ask, what city is more ar- tificially beautiful than Washington and also what city 1s possessed of suburbs more healthful and more adorned with natural attractions. ee eK Ke “You don't know how much street car patrons could help us conductors along in our business by having their fares ready when we go for them,” said an old con- ductor who has been employed for years on the avenue line. “In the old days when we had horse cars it made no difference; we had plenty of time then to wait for people to get out their pocketbooks or fum- through all their pockets for the right change. But now the cars go so fast that it is just about as much a to collect fare: tween t ar e: aman can do and give out transfers be- ansfer points, which, of course, the busiest parts of the trips. If gen- tlemen and ladies would only try to help us out by getting their tickets or change ready as soon as they get aboard the cars nd take their seats, it would be a regular blessing to us fellews. —-> FEES ON OCEAN STEAMSHIPS. Life Made Miserable for the Passenge? Who Evades Them. From the New York Hcme Journal. The fee system is more rigidly enforced on a big passenger steamship than any- Where else. It is one of the places where servants demand their fees, and tell you the amount that they think you ought to give them. While the waiters at restau- rants and hotels expect fees for their ser- vices and will hint and may perhaps make it embarrassing for you if they are not paid, they have not gone so far as to tell yeu that they want a fee and prescribe the amount. Even poriers do not do that. ‘They come arourd, brush your coat and hat and run the whisk over your trous: but it is seldom that they ask you for money, let aléne a specified amount. On the passenger steamers the stewards regard their fees as a matter of right us much as the steamship company regards ycur passage money. It is possible to avoid paying the fees, as they are not collectable by law, but the passenger who does not pay them will have trouble in getting his lug- gage off the steamer, and it would be well fer him to keep off steamers afterward where any of the servants of that boat are employed. The stewards sem to have some sort of fee guide-book or biack-list of pas- sergers who do not give fees, so that they can make them suffer on future trips. Cer- tain fees are regularly fixed ana expected, irrespective of the cost of the state room or the style in which a man travels, while cer- tain other fees depend on the ‘style. For an ordinary passenger, there are fees to be given to the state room steward, the saloon steward, the deck steward, the smoking reom steward and the barber and bath- man. The fee to the steward who looks after your state room 1s about ten shill- | ings. The steward who waits on you at the table should receive the same fee. The | deck steward, for bringing you an occa- s.onal drink and looking after your steamer chair and rugs, expects five shillings, but he will take half a crown. The smoking room steward expects five shillings, and, if you are in the smeking room a great part of the trip, he feels that he is entitled to as much as the state room steward or your waiter. A bath every day on the passage can be had for a five-shilling fee. These rates are fixed by long custom. The stewards can tell whether or not a man understands the rates, and if he will bay at the end of the trip. If they do not trink that he will, they give him hints from time to time, until they get some as- strance on his part that he recognizes the obiigation of the fee system. If they think he will not pay, he will have a hard time of it. He will find that his state room is not well made up, that he does not get care when he is seasick, that he is served last at the table and does not get the things that he ordered, that the wrong drinks and cigars come to him in the smecking room, and that his steamer chair is constantly lost. The servants are as ef- fective 4s scasickness in making a man’s trip miserable. These fees are not to be paid until the last day of the trip. The servants very speedily find out at which place a passenger is to get off. If making his first trip, they are pretty sure to know it. It is advisable for him, in that case, to tell his state room steward and his walter that he will give them the regular fee at the end of the trip if they serve him properly, and that if they do not they will not get a penny. If he tells them this in the proper way, he will Bet as good service as the man who is well krown. The last morning of the trip the state rcom steward comes round for his fee. If the passenger does not offer it, the steward Stggests that it is customary to give him a fee, and that the regular fee is half a sov- ereign. If anything less is offered him, and he thinks he can get a half-sovereign by refusing to accept less, he will at once hand the proffered sum back, and say in an insolent way that he never takes less than the regular fee. With many passen- gers, perticularly women, this remark and the tone extract the ten shillings. Th> sa- loon steward does the same thing. The stewards work in with each other, and if a man succeeds in avoiding the state room steward, the saloon steward will ask him for both himself and the state room stew- ard. As a man cannot get off the ship un- til it stops; there is 1 way of escaping these demands, which will be repeated dur- ing the day of the trip until the pas- senger succumbs. ———__-+ e+ ____ A Quick Response. S, any From Life. “Charge!” cried the Spanish officer. “Nay,” said the shipbuilder, with a light cough; “C. 0. D.” And the deal for declared off. another warship was to an extent seidom found so near a large city, all of which will furnish a feast for the vision of the visitor, while the delight- THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JUNE ee 4, 1898-24 PAGES. AND THE FLY CAME BACK “My regular summer fly turned up this morning,” said the bald-headed man, with @ savage gleam in his eye—in both of them, in fact. “When I awoke in bed, he was with me. I recognized him at once. He is getting on in years now, that fly, but I could tell him a mile off. Could tell him from any other fly in the world by the malicious leer he always wears on his face, and the sarcastic, contemptuous way he ad- dresses me. He was sitting on my fore- head when I came to this morning, heaving Biliingsgate at me in the same ola way. I made a swipe at him, and missed, of course. ‘Clumsy as ever, I see,’ said he, flying around to my left ear and digging his drill- ing apparatus into the tender lobe. ‘Same old elephantine duck, hey?’ and he nipped me again and took a chunk out. ‘Oh, no, you don’t!” he hooted at me as I made an- other jab at him. ‘You couldn't hit a dray horse with a bass fiddle,’ and this time he got right inside my right ear, raised the dickens there for fully five seconds, and hopped out again on my forehead, with his fingers at his nose and his tongue in his cheek. ‘Thought the frost had killed me off, hey, didn’t you?’ says my fiy to me, wiping off his hind legs with his front ones. ‘Thought, bectuse I'm a bit late in showing up this year, that I was a dead one sure enough, hey? Well, I hain’t, ammi?’ and he dives beneath the open collar of my night shirt and chews on my collar bone. “That fly, once he introduces himself to me again each year, and I've had him on my staff, the self-same fly, for fully fifteen years now—ever since my hair fell cut— never turns me loose for a single instant, waxing or sleeping. He followed’ me down to my office this morning, as usual, and he's been at me all day, jeering me and eating me by turns. When I take a car, he takes a car, too, and follows me right up. I went down to Atlantic City four or five times last summer, and he went along with me. Hanged if he didn't follow me into the sea, too! I never bobbed up out of a comber that he didn’t light on my head, and say: ‘Thought you could drown me out, hey? Well, you can’t,’ and then give me a particularly vicious nip. I've pleaded with that fly with tears in my ears as big as saucers, but it's no use. He's utterly heartless. I've threatened him, all to no avail. I've reviled him up hill and down vale, and thrown things at him, and hired small boys by the hour to try to cage him, so that I could shoot him to death with a shotgun—but all! fruitless, futile! He'll be with me through life! There's no way of escaping him! There he is now!” and the bald-headed man made a terrible sweep with his right hand at a fly that didn’t look to the layman any worse than the average fly, sitting on the end of his nose. And then—it may have been imagination—the writer thought he distinctly heard that fly, as he flew away for the tenth part of a sec- ond and then relighted on the bald-headed nose, exclai “Oh, you easy old Just watch me take another fall out 0” you!” ————— STANDARD OF EXCELLENCE. A Mountaineer Who Appreciated Really Good Cooking. As a rule the mountaineer of Kentucky is not a gastronomic connoisseur, and the visitor at his table is quite as likely to hear dried apples referred to as “fruit” as he 1s to find any other kind of fruit on the table. Oceasionally, however, one of them is suffi- ciently fortunate to get away from iis fastnesses, and living temporarily down in the blue grass has an opportunity to ac- quire some virtues not otherwise obtain- able. It was such a one I caught up with one morning in June along the ridge of the Cumberlands. “I'm Icoking for a place,” I said after a few preliminaries, “where I can stop for a week or so while I look up some timber I have in this neighborhood. Do you know of any?” “Ther ain't much uv that sort eround here,”" he replied, “exceptin’ you go ter Mt Pleasant, an’ I reckon that’s too fer. But hol’ on,” he broke in with a sudden theught, “thar's the Widder Tackett. She axed me yistiddy to see some uv you folks at the mill and tell ‘em she had a place to sleep an’ eat two er three men ef they wuzn't too pertickler.” “Is it a pretty good place?” I inquired thoughtlessly. The young man’s face flushed. “Well, I reckon,” he said with some em- phasi. he's goin’ ter be my mother-in- law, come next September.” “Oh, I beg your pardon,” I hastened to explain. “I only asked to know if she had good eating. Some of that we get in pri- vate houses even in the cities, you know, is not the best in the worid.” “Cities be derned,”” he said, with a fine feeling; “yer ain't never tried the Widder Tackett's pie yit, mister, an’ yer want to keep still till yer do. Ain't nothin’ like it nowhar, no matter what kind uv a pie she sets afore yer. It’s all ne plusibus unum, an’ no mistake. Why, I’m tellin‘ you that I sot down to one uv her pies last week, dern ef I recomember what kind it wuz, ef I ever knowed, an’ I wuz eatin’ right into it like a hot shovel goin’ into a snow pile, an’ Bill Rogers acrost the table frum me called me a liar, an’ I never said a dern werd to him tell I had plum et my pie and got my teeth picked. Dern my buttons ef I did, colonel.” : I did not like to inquire further into the mystery of what happened to Mr. Rogers after the last taste of the pie was safely shoused by my informant, but I made a fair guess and went on to see the Widow Tack- ett concerning board and lodging for one man for one week. Sa HER HEROIC SELF-SACRIFICE. She Wouldn’t Say a Word if He Went Right Then. It was near the hour of 11:30 p.m. and the War Department clerk still remained within the ancestral hall of a mansion not far from Scott Circle. The young man was staying longer than usual, for the girl liked him, notwithstand- ing his dilatory habits, and he had some hopes of winning her hand and heart, and on this night he would put it to the test. As before stated, tt was 11:30 o'clock when he rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and looked fixedly at the weary maiden on the sofa. “Miss Ethelynd,” he said, with a great yearning, “have you thought seriously of what this terrible war is?” “Most women older than I am have,” re- sponded the girl, “and I suppose I have done my share.” “You have flattered me once or twice, Miss Ethelyad, by asking me not to go to the front until you said I might go, or vntil the call of my country was impera- tive. Neither of those conditions is yet at hand, and still 1 feel that it is my duty to go. What do you say?” There was tenderness and longing and hope and scheming in his voice, for he was laying a trap for her, and he watched her to sce the effect of his words. She looked at the clock wistfully and turned her heavy-laden eyes upon him. “Well,” she said with sublime resignation, “if you will go right this minute, I won’t say a word.” And for the first time he realized the ac- tual horrors of war. | } Dauber—“‘Now, this is the From Puneh. 4 production. And, mind you, T could only get about a month for it before sending-{1 day. Fair American—“Really, now? Well, I guess you ought to have got six months at Jeast for a pieture like that!” A Dubious Compliment. I want you to sec. It ts conside1 in ONE TOO MANY FOR THEM 2 > There was a bit of a scene, quiet, yet forcible, on’ the ball grounjs . Wednesday afternoon. THE MYSTERIOUS WOMAN “On a recent journey that I made from nd stand out at the | Chicago to St. Louis,” said a middle-aged cem.merctal traveler, “one of the passen- Among the/first arrivals were four young | gers In the observation car was the usual women, dressed, «pr, rather, shirt-waisted, pretty much’ aliké, ard, evidently, exceed- ingly thick chums for the time being. All of them were chewing gum voraciously and they looked Ineffably happy, as, tak- ing four seats in°the very front row, they further seizsd fouy more seats for reserva- tion purposes, hojding the extra four by seating themselves, not all in a bunch, but With intervals between them. These unoc- cupled seats they, piled up with various articles of womanly gear, their idea being thus to hang on to them until the arrival of fcur more girls of the party, delayed, probably, in transit. Now, these four girls had no more right to do this than they had to set fire to the grand stand. They had all come in on the green passes, and—well, they did it all the same. When the crowd began to arrive in droves, and the stand became almost filled, the new ar- rivals, casting about with their eyes for seats, commenced to get their eyes on these four unoccupied seats. Men who had given up 75 cénts at the gate to see the game naturally wanted to sit down, and, quite as naturally, when they made out these four unoccupied seats they navigated toward them. Each and all of these un- feeling men got crushed by the girls who were holding the seats. A man, or a pair of men, would struggle down the aisle and approach the unoccupied seats. One of the men would essay to open one of the seats and sit down on it. “That seat is taken, sir,” one of the girls would say haughtily. Then the man would move on to the next seat with no one in it. “That seat is taken, sir,” an- other one of the bunch of four girls would say, still more freezingly. Then the man who had given up his 75 cents to get a gcod view of the game would apologize, mop his forehead and sneak ‘way aft be- hind a post. This happened time and again. The retreating men who had given up their cents each didn’t look as if they en- Jeyed it much, but they resigned them- selves. Women suffered the same humil- iation. They, too, were calmly informed by the bunch of four girls occupying eight seats in the front row that the four va- cant seats were “reserved.” The women who had this bluff worked on them did not look pleased, either. Finally, the right woman came along. She had three women friends, all, appar- ently, good-natured young matrons, with her. The right woman had been standing back in the Aageway for some time, with her eyes glued on those four vacant seats, and when she signaled her three frends with her. fap to follow her she looked as if she might mean business. Several hundred people in the stand “root- ed” with the prayerful hope that she did mean business. = The right woman, followed by her scme- what less confident-looking friends, walked boldly to the vacant seat space. She sat down in one of the seats, and calmly beck- oned to her women friends to seat them- selves in the others. “These seats are taken, madam," chor- used the four gum-chewing young women. “So you'll perceive,” said the right w man, with an angel smile on her sensible ccuntenance. “Delightful view, too, is it not?” “Madam,” said the eldest of the gum- chewing girls, frigidly, “these four seats are ail engaged.” “And by whom, pray?’ said the right woman “By friends of ours,” said the mouthpiece of the gum-chewers. “Are these; friends of yours now in the grounds? “No, but they’re:coming later on.” “Doubtlessiithey-have coupons for these sea’ No, they baven’t any coupens¢ but we've wving thesesfour seats for them.” yh, you are, are you?” said the right woman, stil wearing her beatifie smile. “Well, I don’t know. Perhaps you just think you are.. Which would you prefer to do, move) along together, so that you may all be together and permit our party to remain cogether, or to sit here in sub- ime magnificence, with one of each of us between you, exchanging lead pencils and re cards pyer your laps, and enjoying ecnversation among ourselves behind your shoulders? L think, the first plan would be the better, Yn’t fou? “Ah, thank you so much!" cx 2 The gum-chewing four had capitulated, and moved up together, not, however, without the inevitable “nasty thing’ and “overbearing creature.” And when the right woman and her three friends seated themselves in a solid-looking, sensible bunch of four, there followed such a volley of applause from the several hun- dred men and women who saw it all that the ball players, still practicing, looked up to see what was the cause of the enthu- siasm in the stand. —>—_——_ THE COUNTRY OF ADAM. One Place He Knew When He Re- turned to Earth. “Of course," remarked the Cuban, who ts in America because he can do more good here than he can at home, “Spain is the slowest country on earth, and it is her weight on poor Cuba that drags her to the ground all the time. There is a fable that I have known since my childhood, which is as follows: Once upon a time, not many years ago, Adam asked leave to revisit the earth, teatro de sus glorias y fatigas. Hav- ing obtained it, he went first to Germany. The sight of the fatherland, studded with universities, the roads, the canals, the bridges; all astounded our great forefather, who no longer made out his former land. He went on to England, and, Io! railwa: ergines hissing in every direction, poris, with forests of masts, a beehive, an ant mole, all busy, bustling, buying, selling! Great was his disappointment at finding everything changed—aspect of country, dress, tongues, cities, life. France he could no more know again. But, ‘Hello, what is this?’ he exclaimed with Joy, as he crossed the Bidassoa and his eye swept Castile, Es- tramadura—Spain. ‘This,’ he cried, ‘I know full well. This is mi terra, my own land, and such as I left. Vive Dios! “It is a true story, too, to all intents and purposes, and if Adam ‘should land there today he wouldn’t know the difference, un- less it might be that the fence around the Garden of Eden had a few more palings off of it and the gate was hanging on one hinge.” —_—_—_. ‘Two Hundred Dance in a Wine Tank. From the San Francisco Chronicle. One hundred couples will dance at one time in the great half-million-galion wine reservoir of the Itallan-Swiss colony at Asti, Sonoma county, on Saturday after- ncon next. The entertainment will be a novel one in the annals of viticulture and pleasure. Such a scene has never before been witnessed, for the reason that the op- portunity is now for the first time pre- sentec. The Asti wine reservoir is the largest, if not the only example of its kind in the world. It was constructed last year as a matter of necessity and somewhat as an experiment from inability to obtain suf-. ficient coopétage’for the wine crop which the San Frtincisto merchants refused to purchase. It was quickly excavated and lined with céhere®, and upon its comple- tion was imfnediately put to the use for which it was‘intended with perfect success. There was then ng time for a celebration, but since then it"has been emptied, and while awaitihg it Epefiling the Italian-Swiss colony concluded to give a ball in the mon- ster tank. The afternoon will be devoted to the dancé. in wine reservoir. There will be room‘ in the reservoir for the 200 dancers, as its ensions are 80 feet in length, 34 in, and 24 in height. SS é Moors Hope to Return. From the Philddelphia‘ Times. Visitors to’fa: and other settlements of Morocco notice the keys that are care- fully kept in-safety in the houses of some of the families of~ancient descent. These keys belong to the houses in Spain once occupied by the Moors before their expul- sion from their homes many centuries ago. The Spaniards occupy these old houses, but the descendants of the Moorish owners still guard the keys, in the hope that the ® when they can return to Grenaix more resume of whien they were driven is the mysterious women. I will not go so far as to say thai, during the long number of years I have been oa the road, I never made a journey that I did not have a mys- terlous woman, more interesting than any book, to study. But I have certainly puz- zled what I pleese to call my brain over the mysterious woman railroad passenger on a great many occasions and in a great meny parts of this country, without, ex- cept in very few instances, being able to arrive at any satisfactory determination as to the why, wience, wher2fore or whither of her. She presents no clue to her past, present or future in her person, and a-rail she is inscrutability apotheosized. She is invariably very beautiful—thirty, or a sha over thirty—and she is always a weil-co! ditioned woman in her outer aspect—pei fectly clad for traveling, apparently exp rienced in traveling, ‘groomed up to the eyes,’ as the horsemen say, and the incar- nation of complete self-possession under any and all circumstances. She always has a shadow of sadness in her eyes, and she d.ffuses magnetism as the sun sheds light. “The woman that I started to speak of, my car mate from Chicago to St. Louis, quite answered, in every detail of dress and manner, to this conception of the mys- terious woman a-rail. She was bronze- haired, and her trouble-haunted eyes flash- ed so many shades of brown-blackness that one. couldn't begin to determine their ex- act color. I sat directly behind her, and therefore I could not help but observe that during the greater portion of the journey she read from a small edition de luxe of Fitzgerald's translation of the Persian poems of Omar Khayyam. I had plenty of time to build up a story about the my: terious woman. ‘Her husband's a black- gvard, of course,’ was the main feature of my fanciful structure, ‘and she has tried to live with him in peace a dozen times over. He abused her like a cut-throat, as usual, yesterday afternoon, and, when he went down town, she hurriedly and surrepti- ticusly packed her things, and now she's putting as many miles as possible between herself and the loafer.’ I felt very sorry for her by the time I had this fabric ail weaved about her, and I did some tall thinking, besides, about the desirability of the whipping post for brutal husbands. As the train began to approach St. Louis I wondered if she would be met at tae sta- tion by anybody. I didn’t think so, for in nine cases out of ten nobody ever mecis the mysterious woman, and, once she is lest in the crowd upon alighting from th2 train, you never see her again in this life. “When the train was pulling into the Union station in St. Louis I was so bu getting my traps together, with my head bent over he buckles of my grips, that for a moment I lost thcught of the my: terious woman. The train had_ scarcely come to a full step before I heard the rich contralto voice of the mysterious woman raised in tones of salutaiion and affection. ““Why, Moy, you dear old thing! she was saying. ‘And, Hoppy, Hoppy, how well you do look!” I glanced up, and all of the rest of the Passengers were so busy taking in the queer scene that they did not make a move to leave the car. The mysterious woman, all life and animation, was gazing fondly into the slant eyes of as swell a locker of a young Chinaman as I ever saw, rigged out to the limit in American and with erough good diamonds on stock a jewelry store. He was smiling and happy all over. In his arms he carri da gorgeously gctten up bit of a four-year-old Chink, with slant eyes and bland Mongol- jan features, and a fine suit of wavy bronze hair. am willing to admit that this expert- erce has served, to a large extent, to knock me out of the habit of weaving hard luck fabrics around the dainty figures of mys- terious women a-rail.”” —— IN THE OLD WE: If Any Mistake Occurs It is Always Righted. “Some ten or more years ago,” said the gentleman from Texas to a Star reporter, “we had occasion in our town to send one of our prominent citizens to England to look after some business of a private char- acter in which h2 with half-a-dozen more of us were interested. He was a bit raw, as you might say in the east, but for our purpose he answered admirably, and we shoved him to the front and let him loose among the eff2te inhabitants of Britain. I don’t know wiiat he didn’t do or say over there, for we could only get information by but an American, who met him at a club, told us of a conversa- tion which he had h2ard on that occasion. ‘There was a general talk on the subject of the wild and woolly manners of the south- west and the Texas idea of justice. ‘We couldn’t have anything like that, don’t you know, in this country,’ sald an Englishman, “““No, 1 reekon not,’ respond2d the Texan, ‘it takes a special trainin’ that you foiks Won't ketch up to fer a good many years yit, I reckon." “*‘I should -hope not,’ laughed the En- glishman. ““"Tain’t your fault, though,’ consoled the Texan, ‘you can’t expect to have all the best things over here, you know.’ “It's a good thing, I know,’ admitted the Englishman, “but yet I think the system is most defective. Judge Lynch is not al- ways in the right.’ “I don’t know about that,’ said the Texan, shaking his head doubtfully. ~ ‘Now,’ said the Englishman conclusively, ‘are you prepar=d to say that justice is al- ways promptly administered In this man- ner? “The Texan hesitated a moment, and showed unmistakable signs of failing to uphold his case. I reckon you're half right, colonel,’ he said. ‘Sometimes the rop2 breaks or a gun misses fire the fust time, but you oughtr’t to nold that ag’n us, fer we never let the cuss git away.’” —+ Ingenuity of Boys. From the Atlantie. In physics and natural history there are opportunities to direct and control the out- of-school activities of young people of which the enthusiastic teacher of science is not slow to avail himself. One of the most astonishing facts of the time ts the ingenuity of boys in constructing electrical apparatus, with but a few hints and out of the most meager materials. I know boys who have belt lines of electric tram- ways circulating in their garrets, and a boy who, last year, was the despair of his teachers won deserved recognition in the manual training school exhibit as the clever inventor of a most ingenious electrical boat. An invitation to boys to bring to school products of their own ingenuity, or the natural history specimens that they have collected, will result in an exhibition which in variety and quality will be a reve- lation to one who is not used to following them in these interests. So general and so wholesome a tendency is too significant to be ignored, and yet one almost hesitates to meddle with it lest official recognition may rob it of its inde- pendence and spontaniety. With sympathy from the school, however, it may be di- rected and made more intelligent. Inter- est in nature, for instance, may help to fill profitably the long summer vacations. ——_-+ Mistress (greatly distressed as Bridget awkwardly drops the chicken on the floor, when about to place it on the table)—“‘Dear me! now we've lost our dinner.” Bridget—“‘Indade ye've not. Of hov me A Match Maker. (Copyright, 1898, Life Publishing Company.) PR | “I tell you, my wife’s e wonderful wo- man.” — x her three daughters were retin 3 ” | irdividusi method. Written for The Evening Star. In the Awkward Sq "Neath the blending of the banners Where the men are marching proud There is one of modest manners Ali unnoticed in the crowd. While we hail each brave commander, For a moment we allow Just a passing thought to wander To the lad who's learning how. He is hidden 'mongst the many, But his mettle, all untried, Will be found as true as any, ’Mongst our youth, a nation’s pride. *Tis not long since loving fingers Brushed the tresses from his brow, And a mother’s kiss still lingers With the lad who's learning how. Honors more than badges royal On our leaders we bestow, And for the departed loyal Roses bloom ‘midst tears that flow. And, as forward he is pressing, Ready to stern fate to bow, There is God-speed and a blessing For the lad who's learning how. * *x* * Retribution. afferty, said Mr. Dolan, ‘‘wot'll we do wid “em whin we git ‘em?” “Whin we git what? “The Dons, otherwise known as Dagoe: iang ‘em,”” was the ‘laconic answer. “Shtand ‘em up in a line an’ hang ‘em wan a day at sunrise. An’ whin Oi say sunrise Oi mane whin the sun comes up the first ting in the mornin’, widout takin’ the ai- manae an’ doin’ any figurin’, {ur thim fel- 1 is the flimflammers thet'll run aw: wid yer sinses an’ thin laugh at ye. Me daughter thot’s in the High School wor sayin’ thot whin it’s noon here it's about foive o'clock in the afternoon in Mad- rid. ‘How d’ye know? says Oi. ‘Did ye get it telegrapped from Madrid? coorse, it has been dons says Ol, ‘don’t yez blave it, fur thim hay- then couldn't teli the troot’, not even about the toime o’ da: “Rafferty, r ye had a cyclometer fa iy the way ye think ‘ud make it go back ards. An’ Of'm sorry ty hear ye so blood- Virsty, wantin’ re “I suppose the sare vinge be hangin’.” "re afraid it ‘ud hurt tic rejomnder. “No. But it’s bein’ too aisy wid ‘em. D'ye remember the boy iv Murty McMan- us who wint ty sea an’ come back wid the tattoo pictures an ‘im?” “Yis. OFM nivver furgit the shock he gev me wan day whin we wint swimmin’ But he wor a foine piece of filagree work. “He's what put the plan in me moind. We'll take the Dagoes an’ turn aich iv ‘em over ty the gevernmint tattooer an’ hoy a picture iv the American flag inscril ed an ‘is chist. Ui know it's a Posal an’ wan unworthy iv a phi sinueman such as Oi hope Oi am. I whin Ui tink iv the mental agony there'll be whin they discover they're a lot iv star spangled Spaniards, the more ashamed iv meself Oi git, the prouder Oi am of it!” * x * A Myth. She knows a heap o’ interestin’ fings, my mammy do. An’ whut I likes de bes’ about ’em is, dey's mos'ly true. She tol’ me "bout some folks dat couldn't keep away f'um hahm Tell dey dug beneaf de do’-step an’ tuck out de witch's chahm; An’ how ter git a rabbit's foot ter make yoh luck come right. An’ "bout de fings dat ketches yer when you stays out at night. i wish, when she gits stahted, she'd keep on tell break 0’ day. I's mos’ too skyaht ter sleep. I'd rayvuh listen, anyway. em,” it’s when de lamp is lighted dat I likes ter hear huh best. She knows some daytime yahns, but dey ain’ in it wif de rest. Sometimes when she done kotch me dar, a-dozin’ in de sun, Not doin’ much ‘cep. wishin’ whut I orter do was done, She tells me of a feller dat she somehow heard about Dat nebber waited to be called at sun-up to tu’n out. He loved ter work so well dat if dar wasn’ nuftin’ found Right handy to imploy him, he'd git up an’ hunt around! She's mighty knowin’. tryin’ to count back De years she’s been a-learnin’ f'um de white folks an’ de black. But de very wisest people, I has heard f'um dem dat know, Kin somehow git a lot ob infohmation wot ain’ so.” She's right about dem voo-doo doctors an’ de rabbit's paw An’ chahms an’ hobble-gobbles dat huh great gran’-fathuh saw. An’ "bout de ha’nts dat lays fur boys an’ grabs ‘em wif a jerk, But 1 doesn’ b’lieve dat story "bout de man whe loved ter work. * * ox Entirely Explained. ‘They were taiking of music. Miss Cay- enne had expressed her intense apprecia- tion of the great composers, and Mr. Wish- ington was struggling to hold a place in the conversation. He succeeded beyond his hepes. “I did not knew that you had taken so much Interest in the subject,” said she. “Oh, yes. I have always liked music. But I like the dear old ballad’s best. They are the natiral expressions of sentiment,” he went on, gaining confidence as he found his memory standing by him. “They are less intellectual than the instrumental cre- ations, thought which music ought to arouse. “Won't you sing something?” she asked. And with the overweening, unfortified cenfidence which a small measure of suc- cess so often breeds, he said he would try. “I know only one song,” he remarked, deprécatingly. “I guess one will be enough,” she an- swered, sweetly, as She seated herself at the piano. ‘“‘What is the name of it?” “I don’t know whether I remember the exact name of it. To tell you the truth, it was all I could do to learn the music.” ¢ “But _ eee terete arg piece is SHethough hard for a few seconds, and then exclaimed, cheerily: “It was the ‘Blue Bells of Scotland.’ Do you know 1t?” P peat ens APa played a pealiy: little pre- “Why don’t you start?” she inquired, af- ter she had played it over three times. “Oh! I beg your pardon! Was it time for me to come in?” a “Certainiy.” Tain’ no use a- to come in again I'll nod my head.” Once more she the _ prelude. mptly at the given signal he lifted his voice. The result was not wholly inharmonious Yet it was weird and unfami She stopped in surprise, but he kept on several measures. Are you sure you're singing this prop- fe ery?” she inquired cabenately sure,” he answered confi- dently. “Then I must be wrong. My recolle: tion was t it went this way, and st. hummed the good old tune over. “Oh, yes,” he answered, cheerily. “That's right, at it ii pends on how you look I didn’t jearn it that way. I studied | a glee club, and was one of the bas- * -_* A Surprised Dendhend. His ostentatiously checked clothes, his col d shirt and his thick-soled patent leather shoes showed that his presence in the theater that evening, where men wore evening clothes and women carried roses, was a mistake. He was standing near a middle-aged gentleman with gold glasses. “Do you know wot time de show begins he inquired. “I got here too late to git a program, but I don’t feel like goin’ out an’ makin’ a kick me white. white. Ye ‘ause dese people has treat- Dat's how treated . I'm a stranger in de Vought I'd like to take In a an’ so, seein’ de doors open, I come It didn’t make much difference to me me; dey've burg, an’ I teayter, in. wot de show was. Dey’re all overripe de | ae De bum actors ts tryin’ to be legits <o’s to make reputation an’ de legits ts try- to be bum so’s Were you a popular taste * inquired the gentleman with gold 5 ye fur a program, but I don't see e in yer hand ner stickin’ out o” yer « aywhere, so 1 put it down ye're in de same fix wit’ me. It don’t make much difference, anyhow. Most of dese | People don't give deir real names on de | program. An’ I'd jes’ as take de show jas it comes widout no previous informa- tion. I kin form an opinion better by not | knowin’ anyt'ing about wot’s goin’ on till it happens. But I can’t say a word agin dis no matter wot ¢ show is i stopped outside to ask wot de admish was "de fe “Dere ain't no admish. "won in if you want to.” I tought he wus joshin’ at first, but he wasn’t. AN I had to do was to wave me hand at de door- keeper an’ say, ‘It’s all right. I'm on de free list,” an’ in I goes.” ‘The orchestra interrupted with the “Wil- liam Tell” overture, to which he Istened with evident approval. “Dat's all right, all right,”he comment- ed. “Dey're gittin’ away from dis rag- time. Of course, dere wus some rag-time in de piece, but dey didn’t t’row it at yer in chunks de way most of ‘em do. Hold dis place fur me till I git a program, will ye? I'm goin’ to make another push fur a program, an’ fin’ out de name o’ dat piece, When he returned a young woman was stepping across the stage, paper in hand. “I s'pose she sings,” he commented. “Its a good t'ing to have plenty of singin’ in a show.” She read: “Again and again the homogeniety of the human race in thought, sentiment and ma- terial ambition has impressed itself in some crisis, as an indubitable rebuke to the ego- ism which holds that individual genius is the great and dominant cosmic force.” “Great Scott!” the loudly-dressed| man ejaculated, “What is dis?” “This,” replied the other, “ mencement.” “Well, beau, T'd like to chum wit ye, an’ I hate ‘to go out !n de middle of an’ act But if dat’s de commencement, I ain't got time to wait fur de finish. I don't wonder dey let me in fur nothin’! ceca Audibility of Thunder. From Industries and Irom While lightning may be seen and its il- lumination of clouds and mist may be rec- ognized when it is even 200 miles distant, thunder {s rarely audible more than miles. The thunder from very distant storms, therefore, seldom reaches the ear. The reason of this great uncertainty in the audibility of thunder is not difficult to un- derstand. It depends, not merely on the initial intensity of the crash, but quite as much on the surroundings of the observer, even as in the quiet country one will ob serve feeble sounds that escape the ear in a noisy city. Perhaps the most curious is a com- but it is emotion rather than | and important condition of audibility is that the thunder wave of sound shall not be refracted or reflected by the layers of warm and cold air between the observer and the lightning or by the layers of wind, swift above and slow below, so as ent to pass over and around’ the observer. Sound, in its wave-like progress obliquely through layers of air of different densities, is subject to refraction, and this refrac- tion may occur at any time and place. Thus, observers at the topmast of a ship frequently hear fog whistles that are in- audible at sea level; those on hilltops hear thunder that cannot be Htard in the valley; those in front of an obstacle hear sounds inaudible to those behind it. The rolling of thunder, like that of a distant cannorade, may be largely due to snecial reflections and refractions of sound. Again, the greater velocity of the gir at consider- | able altitude above the ground distorts the sound-wave and .shortens the limit cf audibility to the leeward, while increasing it to the windward. + + —____- Work for the Unemployed. From Life. The lists of staff appointments, as well as the rolls of the volunteer regiments, give gratifying evidence of the usefulness of war in furnishing occupation for the unemployed. A good many gentlemen who have had lots to eat and little to.de these many years have got military jobs and are already accumulating experiences which will expand their conversational resources for the rest of their lives. Many of them are known as active and competent men and cnthusiastic sportsn-en, and will bring to the prosecution of military enterprises in Cuba and the Philippines an ardor long disciplined by the pursuit of polo balls and foxes. Varicty is essential to contentment, and a changed sport is as welcome to a jaded system as a of food. War, like most other eviis, has compensations, and one of the grewtest of them is the chance it gives to idle men to make them- “But you didn’ "t step on my toe nor nudge | *lves of use to the country. necessary’ thai pe yd used to it. That’s the way I learned - “Well,” she “every artist has his Soho el “What's shes re out with guns it’s time for you | them.”—Cleveland Leader.