Evening Star Newspaper, June 25, 1898, Page 17

CONVENT CHURCH OF SAN bDoMINGO. OLDEST IN AMERICA Relics of Antiquity Su Left in San Domingo. FALLEN FROM ITS HIGH ESTATE From the Days of Columbus Down to President Heureaux. CAPITAL OF A DESPOT + Written for The Evening Star. HERE HAVE BEEN several contestants for the honor of be- ing the oldest settle- ment of European foundation on Amer- ican soil, but with out a doubt it must be assigned to San Domingo, capital city of an island of the same name in the Caribbean sea. Some have i that Baracoa, in Cuba, was first founded by the Spaniards who came after Columbus, but, while that port was entered by Columbus in 1492, yet the first settlement there was not until long after Santo Domingo had been a fixed place of residence. If anything were today remaining of Isa- bella, that first city started by Columbus on the north coast of San Domingo in 1498, that spot could be entitled to the palm. but. while at one time there were several houses there and a pulation of hundreds, Place of r t long as a svon discovered Isanella did not ence. ve that the spot was ill-chosen, insalubrious | and too far from the gold regions of the {sland and the aboriginal centers of popu- lation. The last remains of Isabella were sent to the Chicago exposition in 1 few t of reck and some rel a tiles and earthen pottery—where they wer exhibited In the reproduction of the Con- vent of la Rabida, and now repose in cus- tody of the Field Columbian Museum. To Mr. Wm. Ejrey Curtis, at present th Washington representative of the Chicago Record, and formerly chief of the bureau of Americen republics, is due the credit of tl, the work having been per- d by the writer of these lines. econd cliy or settlement was founded by Columbus in the interior of San Domin- go In 144 or "95, and called Concepcion de la Vega, though even this was preceded by the planting of a muir utpost In the gold region at the headv of the Ya- qui, known as Sento Tomas de Yanico. F 4 by Bartholomew. All these places have been destroyed by earthquakes, and abandoned, their even being difficuit to determine, but not so the capital clty of the island, San Do- mirgo, which was founded by Bartholomew sites Cclumbus, that lion-hi brother of Christopher. in the It seems that a runaway soldier had strayed over to the south coast, where, fortunately for tim, a copper-colored princess became en- amored of him. and, as proof of her love, showed him deposits of the precious metal. As this was a desideratum of Spanish con- quest and discovery—the finding of gold— the soldier hastened back withthe news to his commander, Don Bartholomew, who lost no time in marching a band of Span- larcs to the section and verifying the re- port. The finds were so rich that a fortress wes soon erected at the mouth of the river, Ozama. where. as there was a good natura port here, no time was lost in laying out the nucleus of a city. If it had not been for a disastrous hurricane in 1502 this would have been the site of the present city of San Domingo, but, owing to that event, the settlers removed their houses to the west bank of the river, where it stands Seven years later, in 1569, the great castle was bullt, called the Homenage, which stands yet, a fine specimen of ancient architecture, and the oldest of its kind in the western hemisphere. It was long believed that in this castle Columbus was once imprisoned, just prior to being sent home in chains to Spain. But wtile Columbus was imprisoned here, i was not in this castle, but in another, which has since disappeared. However, there yet stand the walls of the little chapel from the porch of which Bobadilla read the royal proclamation for Columbus to submit to his authority, on the east bank of the Ozama, belcnging to the proprietors of a large sugar estale, which covers the location of the most ancien Found. Columbus prisonment of Place in 150, and while he was vindicated took on his return to Spain, still he was for- bidden to return to San Domingo, the scen of his many exploits and of his first fights with the Indians. Was particularly ir- Just as gold quantities, to It ritating to him, at this time. was being found in larg be torn from this promis! ation; but he may have lation from e con- that his accuser a successor, was drowned in the very ship that was taking to Spain the largest nugget ever discovered in the is- land—perhaps the largest ever fourf@ in America. This nugget was found by an Indian girl, but appropriated by two Span- ish miners, who caused a pig to be killed, roasted and served entire upon it; and it was their boast that never before had any sovereign possessed so valuable a service of plate as theirs. But it went to the bot- tom of the sea, when the Spanish fleet was sunk by a hurricane, and lies there yet, a rich prize for some adventurous diver to appropriate. As the city itself is the oldest In America, 80 it holds some of the most ancient build. ings. The same ycar the castle was built. in 1508, there was erected here a magnifi- cent palace, now in ruins, which is called the Cosa de*Colon, or House of Columbus. It was built by the son of Christopher, Don Diego, who, having become great by his marriage to Maria de Toledo, niece to the infamous Duke of Alva, was now here as viceroy of the king of Spain. Thinking to surround himself with all the dignities of @ royai court, Don Dieg6 first built this fortified palace, on the west bank of the river, and rising immediately above it. He carried things with such a high hand that his sovereign recalled him to explain mat- ters, and it came near going badly with the upstart son of the pseudo admiral; though he finished his residence, and it now greets us as a pile of gray stone, the Many rooms roofless and at every point falling to decay. ‘The walls which surround the city are opposite the city, at present | cai } | | | presents many features worthy of study. scarcely less ancient than the castle and the casa, and fully as interesting. As the lower rooms of the palace are now used as stables for goats and donkeys, so squalid huts of palm lean against the walls, and{ dirty negroes huddle in holes in the ‘mas- sive masonry. The frail shanties of the poorer people are built within the ruins of convents, forts and seminaries, and the as- pect of the present city is that of a squat- ter crouched within the walls of a palace. Though the city is overflowing the limits of the ancient walls, which are broken down in many places, yet it has not, like Havana, outgrown them entirely. Entering through a gateway, overhang- ing which is a sentry turret built 400 years ago, one instinctively recoils at the filth and squalor of the modern city within the walls. The streéts are rough and ragged, the sidewalks full of holes, and against the sides of houses and in angles of the forti- fications are piled heaps of filth. The most conspicuous ruin within the walls is that of the San Franciscan convent, built on a hill behind the Casa de Colon, by the first missionaries who came out here to convert the Indians. Only a small portion of the old convent is habitable now, and this is used for the lodgment of the city’s insane, in a wing: of the original edifice. Deserted cor- ridors, rooticss chapels, vine-draped arches, massive walls with great trees growing on them—these are all that remain of the vast structure built in the sixteenth cen- tury. So complete is the ruin that no one can tell where the two famous men, Alonzo de Ojeda and Bartholomew Columbus, who died and were buried here, are now resting. A subterranean passage is said to connect the convent with another building, once used by the monks as a residence, known as the Casa del Cordon, and now used as a hotel. Another convent ruin, also dating from 1569, is that of San’ Nicolas, but the most famous convent church, still in a good state of preservation, is that of San Do- mingo. Attached to this church are the walls of America’s first institution of learn- ing, in which taught the celebrated Bishop Las Casas, whose history of Spanish crimes is a standing reproach to the nation to which he belonged. Yes, here stand the walls of the first uni- versity ever erected on the western hemis- phere, though in a state of neglect and condition of filthy surroundings impossible to conceive. The interior of San Domingo Chureh has been carefully restored and The Cathedral. But the most famous ecclesiastical struc- ture is the cathedral, which was hegun in 1514, but not finished until the year 1540. Within one of its cnapels stands a large white cross which was planted here on the first arrival of holy men, as an in- scription on one of its arms sets forth. This cross is of hogan. about nine feet high, and an act duplicate of 't was sent to the expositicn, and is now in the Tield muscum. The cathedral lays claim to at least one ainting by the great Murillo, and to several works by Velas- Guez: but of old manuscripts there are few remal . it is said, the celebrated pirate . Tobbed the church of all it had. also, who sent the cannon ball into the roof of the cathedral, where it may still be seen imbedded. ThiS itself is a reminder of the cathedral’s antiquity; to disport a relic of Elizabethan times, when Shakespeare and Johnson and ali those ancient worthies flourished, and Drake and Hawkins swept the sea, prior to the destruction of the Spanish armada. Though exteriorily unattractive—at least not impressive—the cathedral has a nave of grand proportions, with great pillars supporting a groined ceiling, and a high altar covered with pure silver. There are twelve chapels in the cathe- dral, each one sacred to some saint or con- taining the tomb of some famous Spanish cavalier. At least one of these tombs equals in its carvings of the “‘escudos” (coats-of-arms) of the noble family {t represents some of the best In the ca- thedral of Seville. In the pavement is a slab eleven feet in length, with a magnifi- cent “escudo"—casque, helm and ‘flowing plumes—bearing date 1. One of the chapels, with a domed ceiling, has some beautiful “azulejos,” or Moorish iridescent tiles, as fine as any in the palace of the Alhambra. Another, at the left of the high altar, holds an excellent painting, flanked by the kneeling figures of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, evidently copied after those of the same individuals in the royal chapel at Granada, in Spain. Everything, in fact, leads us back to the time of Spanish domination. The work here is of the best that country produced at the height of its glory, when the most experienced craftsmen and the most famous artists sought employment there. The names also are all Spanish. Back of the tomb of one of the early archbishops, whose reclining figure is a beautiful example of sculpturing, is a small cell, which once held, it is alleged, the remains of Colum. bus,’ and the two-leaved door of this cell js a wonderful specime: meine pecimen of elegant wood These are some of the cathedral's treas- ures; but the greatest, or that whic ee Domiricans seem to value most. ts con. cealed from vulgar view, unless special permission be obtained to see it. This is the casket containing the relics of Colum- bus, which it is claimed still remain here. though Havana also holds that her cathe: ral has them safely inclosed within. its walls. Well Worth a Visit. Be that as it may—and this is a subject for special examination—it would seem that San Domingo has ancient treasures erough to make of it a shrine well worth visiting. Every street, every plaza, every angle of the inclosing walls, is identified with some of Spain's greatest minds, when Spain was truly great. Beneath the pave- ment of the cathedral is the tomb of Oviedo, the great historian: the old uni- versity was for a long time the cherished object of the erudite Las Casas, who taught and labored here: Bartholomew, Christo- pher, Diego and Luis Columbus’ all lived here at different times, and many other of the famed “conquistadores,” such as Ponce de Leon and Ojeda. Now, “how are the mighty fallen!” Frem occupation by Spanish hidalgos, to be the capital of a mulatto monarchy, is-a long descent. For, despite the name of re- public, under which the government cf the island masquerades, it fs really a des- potism; its chosen “president” is a dicta- tor; its people servile subjects, nothing else. The papers have noted lately an attempt at “revolution” in San Domingo, which was put down quickly and remorselessly, the leaders shot, the rank and file impxis- oned. A revolution here is but an incid®nt which rarely disturbs the placid current of affairs in general. But it has occurred so often, so many outbreaks of decent people rebelling against oppression have taken place, that now very few able men remain who are available for presidential timber. The present president has weeded them out, persistently hounded them, and so shrewdly applied the knife that he has not many opponents when the time for elec‘ion of chief magistrate comes around. President Heureaux. Presideat Ulises Heureaux, who has for many years stood at the summit of fame in San Domingo, is a soldier of fortune, who, desvite his French name, was born in one of the British islands of the West In- dies. His courage is notable. He has feught in many battles, and his right arm is misshapen from a wound he received: in cne of them. In ‘complexion a brown mu- lotto, he is of medium height, slender form 8 and modest bearing. He speaks siéwiy, but can express himself in Spanish—the lan- guage of the island—English or French, nd expresses Eimszif well. He is now ‘abcut fifty years old, yet years do not secm te have brought him compassion with ex- perience, for he holds the lives of his sub- jects at his mercy, filling his jails with suspects, releasing or shcoting them at ca- price. He once said to the writer, speaking slowly, in his quainz English: “Do you krow, dose peoples call me tyrant; out wkat for I should be a tyrant? I gains nozings fron killing a man. Now, eef I put he in jail for two, tree days, or a week, and den lef him go, I make he my frien’, he wife, he my frien’, too; all he family lcfe me. S22? But eef I shoot he, why, den all he’s family my enemy. No, I don't want shoot dose men who rebel at me; but sumé@I must to shoot, of course.” And he has considered it essential, cv!- dently, to shoot a great many of his rebel- lous subjects, notwithstanding his protes- tations. It is reslly pitiful, the condition of San Domingo today; with its best men either shot or exiled, {ts business almcst stagnant, its credit, if it ever had any, ruined, and its great resources almost un- tovched.,s One cannot but like President Heureaux when brought in contact with him, for he has truly a magnetic presence; his manner is modest, even gentle; his ap- pearance gentlemanly; yet beneath the vel vet glove is the iron hand of a relentless despot. He protests that the love of coun- try is his sole motive and his guiding star; but when one comes to glance over/that country, and to note that there are no reads, no means of communication, save what foreigners have built; that its re- sources are undeveloped, and its com- merce almost nil, he is moved to inquire how that love has manifested itself. He will be likely to find that President Heu- Yeaux nas been pretty busy in caring for “Lellee"’—as the people call him—and prob- ably following the example of those-Vene- zuelan rulers, who lay fot up treasure in this hemisphere, where the touch of in- dignant subject can corrupt; but in Paris, where a long season may be in prospect of pleasure and gayety. Poor Place for Investments, He has made numerous “concessions” to various foreigners of different nationalities, including at least two railroads, a bridge or two, a brewery, an ice plant, etc., but he always insists upon the cash in hand be- fore the concessionaires begin their business, So far as reports have been received, not one of those concessions has ever returned a dollar of the investment, let alone in- terest on capital. Not that this should be laid up as against the president, however. But enougn has been writtefl to show the condition of this city and is!and of treasured antiquities, of priceless relics of early American times, which are now al- lowed to sink further into ruin or to be ex- ploited for the sake of gain. With the examples of Haiti and Santo Domingo before us, with the instances they present of rich islands, capable of bearing everything a tropical sun and genial clime can bring forth, yet sunken in poverty and wretchedness, should we not be care- ful to refrain from adding to the number h in this hemisphere? oceue F, A. OBER. —_.___ HOW IT AFFECTS THE BODY. Firing « Big Gun Brings About Many Physical Changes. From the Philadelphia Times. Not one man in ten thousand has a clear idea of just what happens when a big can- non is fired. The physical manifestations are numerous. Even professors of chemis- try and physics are stumped when they want to differentiate all the gases set loose and the peculiar effects they induce. The puff of whitish smoke, the flash of fire, the dim image of the flying projectile, the roar and the recoil are all familiar; but back of these is a complex mass of phenomena most bewildering to the mind of any but an artillery expert. First, the cubes, disks, hexagons or ir- regular lumps of powder are chemically transformed into a powerful, expanding gas the instant firing takes place. Then there are innumerable by-products that even chemists do not understand. The explosion of gunpowder is divided into three distinct stages, called the ignition, inflammation and combustion. The ignition is the setting on fire of the first grain, while the inflammation is the spreading of the flame over the surface of the powder from the point of ignition. Combustion is the burning up of each grain. The value of gunpowder is due to the fact that when subjected to sufficient heat it becomes a gas which expands with frightful rapidity. The so-called explosion that takes place when a match is touched to gunpowder is merely a chemical change, during which there is a sudden evolution of gases from the original solid. é It has been calculated that ordinary gun- powder on exploding expands about nine thousand times, or fills a space this much larger as a gas than when in a solid form. When this chemical change takes place in a closed vessel the expansion may be made to do a work like that of forcing a projec- tile along the bore of the great gun or test tube in the line of least resistance. ‘The hardest work a gunner is called upon to do is to stand the tremendous shock. The forces exerted by these gases in ex- panding seem to radiate in all directions from the cannon, as ripples are caused by dropping a pebble in a pool of still water. As a matter of fact, it has been discovered that these lines of forces are exceedingly complicated affairs and play very queer pranks about the cannon. As a result few people know just which is the safest or the most dangerous position for a gunner to take beside his gun. In the case of the great 13-inch guns on our monitors, a posi- tion back of the gun is much easier than one nearer the muzzle. In addition to this force, there is an im- mense pressure exerted on the sides of the cannon, so that another distinct series of shocks also radiate outward from the bar- rel of the gun. These lines of force are influenced, besides, by the recoil of the gun, which tends to make the lines curve out- ward and intensifies the shock. These are in turn more or less compensated by the forces of the air opposing them as it rushes into the mouth of the cannon when the pro- jectile leaves it. As a result of all these forces the atmosphere is, of course, vio- lently disturbed. Although no projectile strikes the gunner, who must stand by, it will be seen that the air is full of missiles in the form of invisible lines of force or vibrations which bombard, as it were, every part of the gunner’s body at the same time. An examination and analysis of the effect preduced upon the human system and the mind by the firing of a cannon is most en- grossing. Men generally accounted cour- ageous tremble violently in their knees; others feel nauseated; some have severe headaches; a few have had their ear drums split or the action of their heart affected. Take the vital organ, the heart, first. In the space between the right auricle and ventricle are a set of fine, thread-like cords called the tendineae. The concussion makes them tremble like timbers in a building when there is an earthquake In a weak man the chamber of the heart is left open for an instant; the opening and closing springs lose their control; the heart shakes; possibly the chordae tendineae are snap- ped; contraction or dilation of the organ road and in some instances death fol- lows. Deafnes# induced by an explosion may be traced to the sudden pressure upon the in- ner orifice of the ear and the tremendous vibration set up. The thin, transparent, fairly bright membrane called the drum of the ear is burst, like a piece of tissue paper held taut and forcibly blown upon. Sounds are cogveyed by the beating of a tiny mal- let upon this anvil. If the beating is too rapid and too forcible, the membranes may FLUTTER OF MUSLIN Tells Its Own Story of Outdoor Life and Gayety. SUMMER GIRL 1S NOW 10 THE FORE Butterfly Maids Have Displaced Their Athletic Sisters. GOWNS FOR ALL OCCASIONS Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. LAWRENCE, L. L., June 24, 1898. HE QUIET LONG Island towns, the coast settlements of Jersey and the gresn resorts along the zHudgpn are filling fast with summer ipeople, and the flut- Z ter of muslin against the blue of sky or the ‘perfect emerald of ‘heavy leafage tells ‘its own story of out- door ,life and gayety. From the shady pi- azza where I sit I Hear the click of cro- quet mallets from urider the trees at one side; in front a miniature lake is gay with the flags of all nations—except Spain's red and yellow; the _many-golored bunting streaming trom Venetian) masts erected round the shore. Children fn gay costumes are sailing model yathts with deck loads of roses. Beyond the Jake the rattle of silver harness comes from the distant road- way and carriages roll past, thelr occu- pants concealed under brilliant parasols. Bicycles flash into view; upon them are girls in white, presenting bright pictures with the pennants of red, white and blue. Beyond the roadway stretch the daisy fields nodding white and gold in the sun. All this summer paradise is for women; the “pippadolify,” as Berkshire girls have named the summer man, has exchanged his white duck for brown linen and gone to the war. “Lucile” is laid on the shelf. If you seek the great oak, which season after season has sheltered broad shoulders and carefully trained mustaches droning to pink cheeks and confiding eyes, not a whis- per will reach you of the old familia: “J hear from Bigorre you are there, I am told You are going to marry Miss Darcy. Of olad—” Pink cheeks are laid against the tree trunk, bright eyes sparkle brighter than ever, but she who listened has turned read- er now; she studies letters that tell of the shoek and recoil of cannon on board ship, or the drill of camp, or the order to the front so long expected. As she reads she twitches the tri-color knot upon her shoul- der and a lump comes in her throat, and she turns, chafing at her own inaction, to her embroidery; or, perhaps, she jumps to her feet and hurries to give a chorus of hotel children the drill she promised in “The Star Spangled Banner,” or to help them with their tri-color bonnets and sashes for the great patriotic parade. The Butterfly Girl. The athletic girl 1s not supreme, as she has been in previous summers. She is everywhere in evidence with her smart pique or serge dresses, her military belts and the crossed muskets or the bugle on her broad, turned-down felt hat, but the butterfly girl, afloat on seas of muslin, dis- carding the stiff Alpine for flappy Leghorn hats covered with roses, and throwing down the golf stick to pick up some bit of dainty needlework, shows the tendency of the “everlasting feminine” to revert to cer- tain unchangeable types whenever freed from the necessity of amusing the other sex or when masculine sports lose the spice }of masculine accompaniment. The girl who is athletic this summer is so for her own pleasure, and not because she regards golf or the bicycle as a small- er evil than being left with the older wo- men on the piazza. For this reason she is more of a success than usual; she is more expert at whet she undertakes and her clothes are better adapted to the purpose for which they are intended. The neces- sary distinction-between gymkhana dress and road dress or touring dress for the wheel is coming to be recognized. As a re- sult we have servicéable .costumes and smart costumes, but‘neither intrudes so boldly as it has donevinto: the province of the other. A woman who set out this morn- ing with her husband; and drother on a two or three weeks’ tour over the roads of Mas- sachusetts mcunted Ber Jeet in a thin, light-weight gray serge almost ideal for the usage it is likely terecelve. For proper effect in arriving at hetels, skirt and square-fronted jacket were piped with blue, oa B sgence >. egted tes ffect as auss. ight enough to givé,: of color. blouse of white pi wen Igwn—to be ex- others in light. jotted with a be ruptured, a temporary disturbance of br mind occurs and the sufferer becomes izzy. When the knees tremble it is due to the nervous shock produced in the cerebellum. All the nerves and muscles are thrown into atcnic contractions and relaxation and the Knees appear to give way. Nausea is also caused by the physfologi- cal change that takes place in the brain. There is a pressure of blood-there, and the stomach, responding, tries to empty itself. —————+e+_____ changed after the si or dark blue or red— scarf in Roman cologs tl ribbon trimmings of the s! or hat, with its stri dark blue and white ‘straw. Low Pack, black bicycle stockings, tuning over with plain black cuffs, andgauntlet gloves, pro- tecting the wrists—sijk beck and chamois palm—completed an outfit seemly and thor- oughly sensible. ta Afraid. From Life. . Clerk—“Do you wish your trunk sent to your room, sir?” Guest—“No, I shall not unpack it.” * “Why, I thought you would be here some time?’” “T will. But my wife packed that trunk, and I know if I take those things out I will never be able to get them back again.” — ——~+o+—___ __ ‘Wife—“I wanted to buy a few things, dear, so I took that check you signed down to the bank and filled {t out.” : sh you didn’t overdraw my ac- some of the pretty costumes worn at a gymkhana at Hempstead a few days ago. in addition to the trick riding and the games of skill, bicycle-back, there was a rought out pink with ribbons tri-color scarf, and the wheel was trimmed with daisies. I have seen a yachting dress within a day or two that was conspicuously not intended for service on salt water, but that would be highly successful at a yacht- ing fete or for any semi-aquatic occasion in these days when the genuinely aquatic is at something of a discount. The cos- tume was fashioned of dead white serge, rather heavy than otherwise, falling in sraceful folds to the ground, though cling- ing closely to the hips. The bodice was covered with a loose oyer-bodice of creamy, coarse-patterned lace forming a blouse; the tint of the rose-colored silk belt was re- peated in a big drooping bow below the Square sailor collar. A vest of blurred muslin in faint colors filled in the neck: a gold chain and locket taking the place of a hot collar band. Gold buttons, in- finitesimal in size and supposedly nauti- cal in effect, fastened the pouched bodice: the hat of crushed rose silk, with its bunches of roses and daisies, was not in the least nautical. Severe in Outline. The linen, duck and pique dresses that greet us every morning on the tennis court or croquet lawn are becoming more and more severe in their tailor finish. This ap- plies only to tRe outlines of their construc- tion. So far as ornamentation is concern- ed, the amount and variety increases. Pink and blue duck are extremely pretty, but white holds the lead. One of today’s new-comers is already disporting herself in a white pique, whose deep flounce “en forme” is outlined with leaf embroidery in turquoise-blue cotton. The bodice is 2 sirgle-breasted coat furnished with short basaues; this opens on a white batisie blouse and « turquoise-blue mull tie. The buttons are turquoise set in steel 1ims. Perched above an xbundance of yellow hair is a Panama hat, draped with sca blue geuze. : eet oe In and aro between the p: und the hammocks, swung ine trees, we have congresses of musiins. When I look at the clouds of white, of white and green, of white and blue, and think of the cult of ugliness to which Paris has been given over for sev- eral years, I wonder that Americans can hesitate to assume responsibility for their own fashions. Paris has ceased to care for the beautiful; it is given over to the bizarre the “tres curieux,” which whets the jaded appetite. America is younger, has more zest of life, and American summer fashions are more charming than can be found any- where else in the world. With Many Ruffies. A costume at which I have been looking out of th> corner of my eye while writing, 4s of the old-time book muslin, trimmed with many narrow ruffies, every one of which is embroidered with pale green rib- bon quilling. Threads of lace edge the rib- bons and alternating with the ruffles a set lines of lace insertion. At a little dis- tance is an organdie figured in pale blue and white, and strikingly re ed with ri bon quillings of dark b white mulls get beautifu from insertions or overla yings of blac! lace; while half-mourning dresses, tock for young girls and matrons, are bold trimmed with a checkerwork of black bons, either upon the flounce only or co: ering skirt and todice. z “Every woman her own market gar- dener,”” is a motto derisiv: ly offered for adoption by those ladies who are mount- ing graves and blackberry brambles on their heads. Millinery is our weak point this season; nevertheless there are many pretty hats free from e@ibles, and likewise free from the heavy turban effects of the spring. Leghorns, wreathed with wild roses, give an attractive finish to almost any sort of summer costume. ELLEN OSBORN. ——— A Woman’s Burglar Kit and Booty. From the Chicago Inter-Ocean. . The first set of burglars’ tools that have been found on the person of a woman bur- glar in Chicago for many years were con- clusive evidence against their poss2ssor, Jessie Gibbons, yesterday, and Justice Mar- tin held her to the grand jury in bonds of $1,000. The woman was arrested May 29 } Smith Bros.’ grocery as she was leaving th> place with #0 worth of merchandise in a basket. She had gained entrance by mears of a set of cracksmen’s tools, with which she operated on a rear window. ——~+o+-— (Copyright, 1898, Life Publishing Company.) ‘Two or three delicate effects ene RN TOOTS OOS OOS OOS OSS Sivorwia Hovanererevorererenmemoemaren In Arctic Regions Lieut. Peary says of Cleveland's bak- ing powder, which he took with him on his Arctic Expeditions: *« Cleveland's stood the tests of use in those HOCK high latitudes and severe temperatures per- fectly and gave entire satisfaction. ‘Mrs. Peary considers that there is no bet- ter baking powder made than Cleveland's. 1 shall take it again on my next expedition.” R. E. Peary, U.S.N. @leveland’s Baking Powder fototcto . PPE pb G Sotto FOR. UP-TO-DATE WOMEN Latest Styles in Neckwear, From Harper's Bazar. Witi the silk waists so fashionable this Season there have come a number of dif- Umbrellas for Golf, Coach and the/ ferent styles of neckwear, some of w' 5 ere exceedingly pretty, and all of which are Bicycle. much soft-r than the linen collars, which at one time were the only things worn with PAE famecet vabeg cs aaa awed mee shirt waists, and which still are in many nees. Taffeta silk, lberty silk, chiffon and lace are all used for the new neckwear, and the daintiest little bows and the pret- tiest little jabots are made up by clever fingers and quite transform the hard 1ij Dress-Up Parasols—A Fling Handle With Gold Stick. of the silk waists. Many of the newest Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. and most expensiv= a shirts have @ ry 23, 1808. neck arrangeme NEW YORK, June 23, 18! ed Pye =es If you meet a woman who carries a long, rather substantial-looking stick, one end of which has on it the little protuberance of color taffeta, a stoc! ccllar, in fact, of the silk in very tiny wood which we invariably associate with a tucks, fastened at golf stick, and the other has a silver top og — = ee and a leather covering to hold it by, while treat; ho Was enon the middle is covered with a stout piece of bow—a regular bow- leather which evidently comes on and off, knot of the taff and this has an edj of white, which hemsiitched you may know you have encountered a golf umbrella. In the form I have described it is to be met on its way to the links; un- is the colored taffeta. The furled, with the leather covering laid aside same hemstitching and the bright red silk frame which it hides surrounds the collar, disclosed, it may be seen at the end of the and makes it more game. | becoming. Anvther out-of-door umbrella which ap-| Then there are the taffeta stocks. The: peals more io the real necessities of the case is an umbreila or parasol for cyclists, which folds up in a small enough compass have been shown only at the most expe sive houses, and as they cost six dolla will not be among the cheap things. The to be carried under the seat without incon-| look easy to make, but are not. The part venience, and is so light of weight that] that goes around the neck is high and when unfurled and fastened behind the sad-} stiff, and has two turned-over points, die or to the handle bar it is not felt as a] which are finished with hemstitching:; then burden. The air stirring would have to be| the long ends are hemstitched just to fin- light indeed when a bicyclist would care to]ish ther. It is an exceedingly pretty and unfurl a parasol on a ten-mile spin. But a sudden rain with no available shelter for wheel cr wheelwoman, or a rest on a stretch of torrid, unshaded sand, would make the use of this new parachute quite apparent to every cyclist. Besides the new golf umbrella, which bears its hall mark on one end, there is a red cotton umbrella on a long, stout bam- boo stick, which fs especially adapted f the seashore or for golf links. These nov- elties in parasols and umbrellas show how strongly sports have taken hold of us as a people. The newest parasols for dainty gowns are a marked contrast to the plain, strong ones just described. Brocades, taffetas and laces all figure in the picturesque and becoming effective slock, and is tied in a sailor knot. The: re small bow knots of chiffon edged with lace: others are all of lace: then there are long jabots of mousseline de soie or chiffon, trimmed with lace, that the effect of a full lace front is given when they are worn. Then there are little stock collars of chiffon made like the taf- feta ones just described, edged with lace and thos There are also the long het t made of point d'esprit, and are of lace on the old-fashioned tam- bour — sty These must be at least two yards long, go twice tround the neck, and tie at the throat in a full bow. frame which the summer girl will raise, These last lower, or simply twirl, in conjunction with| ere the best of any, her organdie and silk summer gowns. for they will launder The brocades are perhaps the latest, as| well. taffetas have been popular for some time. Many of the new One of the odd spap2s has what is czlled| gowns are open a lit- a “shed” of lace, and it is exactly what| tle at the throat; the name implies, a lace edge put cn the| Particularly the tail- or gowns require to ribs in such a manner that 1: !coks like have some front or the sloping roof of a house, and if it were enly of some rain-defying matzrial instead | Chemisette of white. of thos of cobwebby film, it would shed | For midsummer there are a great many water like the proverbial duck. These | fronts made cf fine cambric or lawn trin parasols with a “sked” are generally of | med with lace, or else sheer linen, which is shirre: YW! vould harmonize well and tucked; but for the pres: Dene toentees ar "brocade. of tucked or corded white taffeta is the smar pale green and white stripes, with a tiny | €St. These chemisettes, or false fronts, pink flower running over it. inning at | @re made long enough to reach the waist the top there were, at intervals, three | im most i nces. They are cut V-sham rows of narrow fluted ribbon, until the | 5° ¢ s very little, if any, fullness lace was r2ached. S oe 4 ee cad =i = eqns ns stock collar same Late Effects in Ribbon Frills, material, and at the throat have a bow of These frills of ribbon, by the way, are | lace or chiffon. Many of the iaffe:as wash sce on most of the summer parasols. | 1nd all clean. so that the expense of these Scraetimes they cover the whole parasol | great as it would seem. ‘The Mase hae from top to brim, and sometimes they are | possible for one to make at ho: if @ good in clusters. Th2y give decided!y the pret-| Pattern is procured. The plan is to tiest effect put on in the lat buy one made, and then copy it. Of theugh some of the green silk par: course the first ex- with rows of white fluted ribboa entirely pense is not small, covering them have a very summery and comparatively speak- pleasing look. ing; and the disad- Sometimes frills of soft silk are used in- stead of ribbon. One taffffeta parasol, which can be had, of course, in colors to vantage of all th of styles is neckwear please, had irsertions of wide lace at regu- quickly; but by hav- lar mtervals, and these insertions were ing two or three of edged with thre? frills of soft ribbon. each fashion, and This was rather an elaborate amount of only one of them trimming for a parasol, but it did not lock ready made, it is per- ornate. fectly possible to If one is looking for something quite un- keep as trim and commen there is what is called the neat. as can be de- “pagoda” shape. It is a parasol of grace- sired for the entire ful shape, high and narrow, something like summer. an inverted, wide-mouthed vase. At the There are a great end of the ribs the steels are bent upward, ‘many pretty ribbon ties sold now in the shops. These go twice around the neck and tie in front in a They are useful and not ex- giving that curious effect of the pagoda, which, as you will remember from your Japanese prints, is most graceful. ‘This parasol is also covered with dainty bro- cafes in various hues and is d with white silk. The white parasols are, as usual, a clique quite to themselves. One sees them fluted With white ribbon from top to brim, cov- ered with rare lace, or flounced with white chiffon. Many women who do not believe in pure white in conjunction with their complexions have their white parasols lined with a becoming shade, but this is according to individual fancy, and Dame Fashion does not concern herself with it. Patriotic dames have been seen with white parasols with three fluted ruffles of white and blue ribbon on them. The effect was certainty cheerful, whatever one might privately think of this last flag device. Plain Taffeta for Every Day. It is all very well to have a dainty para- sol, or even more if one’s purse warrants, for afternoon gowns. But if one can only have one parasol the coaching taffeta is the most serviceable and in the best taste. It comes in all shades of silk and has a short, thick club handle. It is used on‘all occasions, and if of a good quality of silk can be hoisted in a shower without any detriment to its colors and with a sense of comfort to its otherwise unprotected owner. In direct contradiction to the coaching parasol is the long-handled affair which is aiso very much worn. So for once we heed not all have exactly the same shape. The long handle is very smart, and it is Picturesque also when used as a walking stick (remembering to lean but lightly up- on it, for it is not thick). These long- sailor knot. pensive, but the brighter colors are apt to be a little trying, #0 it is well to choose the more subdued tints. It is best to put a nar- row edge of ruffling inside the neckband tefore wearing one of these. Then there are a great many soft cambric or linen col- lars with fancy hemstitching or a little lace edge which are very becoming and look especially well turned down over some col- ored tie. It is a revival of an old fashion, and many of the prettiest points that are seen were worn by our grandmothers. Em- broidery on Swiss muslin makes the best of all, and there are, of course, a great many different stitches that can be intro- duced to give a finish and dainty look. —_—___+e<— —__—_ Don’t Be Impatient! From the London Times, ‘The impatience of the absence of news which is characteristic of the present age has beer manifested during the past weck, and it is interesting to contract the conditions at th> beginning of the century. On April 8, 1805, Villeneuve passed the Straits of Gibraltar and sailed from Cadiz on his memorable cruise to the West Indies on the following day. The vitally im portant fact that the Toulon ficet had reached the Atlantic was not known to Nelson till April 19, and he was unable to reach Gibraltar till May 6. In this courtry no news of the proceedings of the Franco- Spanish squadron bad been received ss late as May <1, and on the 13th Lord Rad- stock wrote to his son: handled parasols are some sort of an ac- companiment of the shepherdess hat, which, by the way, seems to have gone to its proper home, the country. For not once has it been seen upon the city streets in spite of its great sale and popularity. If one wishes to be patriotic in the mat- Where are you all — “9 For that a int justl; tating tt! country atid prone =A og ‘The world is at once anxious for news and dreading its arrival. On May 11 Nelson weighed anchor in bay for his long chase, and no cer- en waters was brought by the Curieux. On July 30 Nelson dropped anchor at Gibraltar. Suspense in those days must have been almost intolerable. both squadrons were returning to ——* ,