Evening Star Newspaper, July 2, 1898, Page 15

“There are lots of people who show their Patriotism in eating, or at least in wet they order to eat,” remarked th3 keep>r 0! @ popular restaurant to a Star reporter, “who do not show it in any other way. For instance, take the Spanish mackerel, which has always been in d>mand for breakfasts. Now, as a matter of fact. what is known as a Spanish mackerel is caught only in Amer- fean waters, and is as uch an American fish as rock fish, sea trout or any other kind of fish, but since the war opened up there is no call for it, and the taste for it se2ms to have been lost simply because it was called Spanish mackerel. The ordinary cus- tomer has got the idea that there is some- thing Spanish about it, and that settles it, for the present at least. I have one c: tomer who shows his patriotism in another way, his meal consisting of Maryland bis- cuits, Boston baked beans and corn beef and cabbag>, Virginia style. Sometimes he combin2s several other states up in his meal.” # eee x “The strangest cure for hemorrhages from the lungs that I ever heard of, and which has proved itself to me to be the Most effectual, was present>d to me recent- ly,” said a War Department clerk to a Star reporter, “and though I had but little confi- dence in it, I tried it and it has worked wonders. With that view, I think I may be doing others good to make it public. My wif2 had been seriously ill for several weeks with a lung trouble; indeed, so much 80 that her life was despaired of. Our phy- sician had used the remedies of his profes- sion, but somehow they had failed. I was talking of my wife's illness in a grocery store in the eastern part of the city, when 4 colored woman told me of what she re- garded as a miraculous cure. I mentioned the matter to my wife and we trizd it, 4 the result has been that she has not had a hemorrhage since. The remedy may be in the category of faith cures, but that do2s Rot matter as long as it cures. I am not a Christian Scientist, but am a believer in the Bible, and so is my wife. The remedy is to copy the sixth verse of the sixtzenth chap- ter of Ezekiel—look into your Bible and you can see what it is for yourself—and then tie the paper containing the verse up in a bag and let th> sufferer wear it around the neck. I am exceedingly grateful to the wo- man who told me of it, and hope all others similarly afflicted will try it. I hope also it will work as weil in all cases as it did with my wife.” eee KK “Watch repairers have a horror of touching a clock that has been tinkered by amateurs,” explained a watch repairer to @ Star reporter, “and they would rather Bet out of such a job if they can do so, for the loss of one of the smallest parts means considerable work to reproduce it, and much more work than the general customer expects or wants to pay for. They try to get rid of such a job when they ean, for in nine cases out of ten the result is not entirely satisfactory—people who have a good clock, unless they know something about the way clocks are made and how they should be-taken apart, will do the wise ‘thing to let {t alone when it gets out of “order. Experimenting with it often means the ruin of the clock. It is absolutely dangerous to try to unwind a maiaspring, as man have discovered for themselves, unless the proper tools are handy. Now a clock repairer has a con- trivanee known as a “spring controller, which grasps the spring and holds it, while being taken out or put into the clock, that there is no danger. The spring for an eight-day clock is often two yards long, and when suddenly let free it flies out with nearly the force of a charge of shot from a gun. Some time ago an officer of the signal corps thought he would tinker his clock. He did tinker it, and im taking out the main spring it got away from him. In its flight it took of a five-dollar lamp from a parlor tabla d in the glass of a twenty-dol- 1 mirror, besides doing oth=r The four-doliar clock cost him in damage exactly twenty-five dollars, be- sides cutting his hand seriously.” * KK K & “There is an entire absence of law pro- tecting the army uniforms,” observed an army officer to a Star reporter, “and, pe- culiar as it may seem, it is not a violation of law, military or ctvil, for any unauthor- ized person to wear the uniform of an Officer or soldier. In other words, it would not violate any law if any one paraded the streets attired in the full military uniform of ® general, colonel or other officer. In Europe it is entirely different, and if an unauthor- ized person publicly wore the uniform of an army or naval officer without authority he would be gobbled up, stripped of his military or naval fixings and would have a long stay in prison for his offense. There have been a number of efforts in this coun- try in the state legislatures to make it a ¢rime to wear the uniform, without prop- er legal authority, of an officer of the state National Guard or militi but somehow they were never crystallized o law. The jot often occur, but should it offense does h: it has happened sometimes, enalty. Of course, if an un- person committed any offense there is authorized against the law, such as false pretenses, he would be lable to punishment und eneral law to prevent fraud Tass er the There is a h member I's uniform, . and some onal Guard of that city tried to have it abolished under existing law, but they failed to do so. The Grand Army \ige and button, as also the badge of the mion Veteran Legion and the Regular Army and Navy Union and of the Mexican Veterans’ Union, ar> protected to some ex- tent by law, in that the regulations of th @rmy and navy provide that those entitled to them can wear them on certain official @ccasions. but even they are not as fully Protected by law as they should be. The legal protec- and in New York cit xists in relation to wearing tie 'medal of honor, awarded by Congress, and it is known that certain persons have medals of that kind and have worn them without the authority of Congress. The bow of the Army Legion of Honor is, how- ever, provided for by law, and it is a viola- tion of law for any unauthorized person to have or wear it.” kee KE “Every time I pass through the Capitol and notice the water coolers at the Senate and House end of the main corridors I am reminded of the late Senator Preston B. Plumb of Kansas,” observed an old poli- tician to a Star reporter. ‘There had been spasmodic efforts every now and then for over fifteen years to have water coolers placed on the main floor of the Capitol for the benefit of strangers and others visifing the Capitol, but somehow they never suc- ceeded. No one seemed to specially object to them, but as they never had been there no one seemed specially enthusiastic about having them installed. There was always plenty of ice water in the committee rooms and other places at the Capitol, and it was handy enough for persons who were ac- quainted with the building to get a drink, but it was entirely different with strangers. If they were thirsty the only way for them to relieve their thirst was to go to the restaurants in the building and get soda water or lemonade. On the theory that the restaurant people had kept out public ice coolers, Senator Plumb went to work, and simple as the proposition ap- peared to be on its face, it required of him constant agitation for nearly two years be- fore he got his desire granted. He tried it with a direct bill, but the bill would get lost in some committee room. As a last resort he had an amendment put on an appropriation bill and then had himself made one of the conferees on the bill. There were indirect efforts made on him to give up the idea, but he announced his ultima- tum that if he could not get his ice water amendment through he would defeat the entire bill. That settled it, and during the following recess the necessary pipes were built in the walls and the connections made. There is no expense in keeping the water ice cold, for, according to his own plan, this is done by running a coil of pipes through and around the store room in the basement of the building where the ice for use in the committee rooms, restaurant, etc., is stored.” —.__. DIG DOWN DEEP. Prairie Dogs Have Holes That Go to the Water Level. “The most interesting thing I have seen in many a day,” said Mr. Harvey Geer of Lamont, Col., at the Ebbitt a few nights ago, “was a prairie dog well. Did you ever see one? It isn’t often that a-chance occurs to explore the homes and haunts of these expeditious little inhabitants of the plains. A few miles from my town a large force of men has been at work this summer mak- ing @ deep cut for a short railroad up into the mines. A friend of mine is in charge of the job, and I went out a week ago to see him and the workthat had been done. The first thing that attracted my attention en I got there was the fact that the cut was being made through an old alfuifa field and the roots fringed the sides of the cut and nung down fifteen to eighteen feet. Up at the surface of the ground were the stub- bed green plants and reaching down deep into the earth were the fat, businesslike roots, getting their living far below where ordinary plants forage for subsistence. “But the most remarkable thing was the prairie dog wells that had been dug into. The cut went through a dog village, and being a deep one—some forty feet—it went below the town. There has always been a discussion about where the prairie dog gets his drink. Some say he goes eternally dry and does not know what It is to have an elegant thirst on him. Usually their towns are miles from any stream and in an arid country where there is no surface water at any time sufficient for the needs of an ant- mal requiring drink. The overland trav- elers back in the days of pioneering used to find the dog towns out on the prairie scores of miles from the streams. There was no dew, the air was dry as a ‘bene, the buffalo grass would be parched brown and there would be absolutely nothing to quench thirst. F remember a discussion be- gun thirty years ago in the American Nat- uralist by Dr. Sternberg, now surg2on general, on the subject, and he argued in favor of the well theory. But there near Lamont is ocular proof of the well theory. The nest holes of the dogs were five cr six feet deep, but four or five holey went straight down as deep as the excavation had been made and evidently on into the Water-carrying sand beneath. These holes appeared to be used by the whole colony commonly, and were a ilttle larger than the holes used for their homes.” ——— THE PROOF OF IT. A Kentucky Regiment Would } Drop Their Canteens. The war correspondent, who had re- turned from the scene of action In Cuba or who said he had, was giving the crowd of listeners a lurid account of a fight he had witnessed on the skirmish line in the vicinity of Sevilia. Everybody in the crowd was taking the story right down without the least sign of a doubt as to its absolute accuracy, until a long, slim party with a smooth face and a ruffied shirt front be- came an interrogator after the facts. “Did I understand you to say it was a Kentucky battalion that had gone right up the hill over the brush and rocks in the very muzzles of the enemy's guns?” ‘That's what,” asserted the narrator. ‘And they threw away their knapsacks on the first jump?” “You bet they did. They didn’t want any handicap {n a race like that.” ‘ “Then they threw away their coats?’ “Indeed they did.” : And their hats?” ‘They went into it bareheaded, like the edevils they were.” ‘And dropped their cartridge belts?” “Every one of them, and went for the foe with their cold bayonets.” “And their canteens?” “Everything: By George, they went into the scrap stripped like prize fighters.” The smooth-faced man coughed and shuffied his chair. “That's all right,” he said, firmly. “They were not Kentuckians. That’s their style of fighting, but you can bet a farm that Kentuckians never would have thrown their canteens away.” ee Carrying It Too Far, From Puck. “I hear that Alfred Austin is writing a dirge to the men killed on the Maine.” “Confound him! That's no laughing mat- ter.” da OUR ANNUAL (Cepyright, 1898, Life Publishing Company.) - @he Eagle—“No offcise, yard, but this CELEBRATION. ig one of the customs of the cou a THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JULY 2, 1898-24 PAGES. A HUNDRED - DOLLAR PIE One of the best known ‘newspaper men in Washington is Jim Waters. He was here long before “the war. and has cer- tainly been here a long while since. His venerable horse and antique green wagon have been contemporaneous with much of the history of the capital and have like- Wise formed no small part of the same. | Jim and the horse, and probably the wag- on, have known every newspaper corre- spondent and reporter in the city for the past forty years. All his life Jim has been gathering information—tons of it at a cent @ pound. To be brief, he deals in old news- Papers And he deals also in a good story now and then. “I have just been over to the camp at Dunn Loring,” said Jim this morning to a Star reporter, “and I went over to see if there was an opening for any business in my line. I did a good deal of business during the war—in several lines. I sold thousands of your Star extras for twenty- five cents apiece. That was in the Union camps. I sold hundreds of them in the southern lines for several times that. And I sold a good many things beside news- papers, too, I can tell you. For a year I did a rushing business with an old wes- on that had a false bottom in it. More than once I was chased by the cavalry on both sides, but I knew: the lay of the land and I always got away to bob up serenely somewhere else. “The best stroke of business I did was in selling pies in the camps. I got rid of tons of them and they paid well. Soldiers i = we pipe rekiegs than any other 2: juman ings. I suppose it re- minds them of home and mother. Some of the pies I used to sell them must have reminded them of their grandmothers. Now and then the baker couldn't make pie fast enough to keep up with my trade and then ‘I had to make them myself. That was the kind that probably made the boys think of the old folks at home. “I think the best customers I had were the Pennsylvania bucktails. Great Scott! But they were pie destroyers! Every one of them stood six feet in his stocking feet and the way those long-bodied citizens could put away my goods was a caution. “I felt sad today when I saw the boys over at Dunn Loring. They were all mere children compared with the Pennsylvania giants. I couldn't make a cent selling pie in that camp. “One of the pleasantest recollections I have of my army experiences was of a little transaction on a pretty June day when I sold a plain old custard pie for the gentle sum of one hundred dollars. I had disposed of all my stock except this one old pie that had been around with me all day. As I was coming across the Long bridge I met a Jersey artilleryman. He stepped me and asked me if I had any pies. At first I was tempted -to tell him I hadn't. But he lifted the lid of my big basket and saw the one pie. Then he rammed his hand deep into his trousers pocket and pulled out a bill. Grabbing the pie witn one hand he shoved the bill at me and went on. I called out that there was some change coming to him. “Oh, go to —— with your change,’ was all the politeness I got for my honesty, and I took up my basket and went on. “I hadn't gone far before I looked at the bill, which up to that time I had supposed to be a dollar note. To my surprise it was @ one-hundred-dollar bill of the Allegheny Bank of Cumberland. That was in the last days of the wildcat system of bank- ing. I thought I had been fooled with some worthless paper, but reconciled my- self with the thought that the pie wasn’t any better than the bfll. In fact, I was sure the ple was bad and there was yet some doubt about the bill. The next day I took it to the bank and to my everlast- ing surprise they cashed it for $98.60. The Jerseyman had evidently won it at poker and did not know its value. He probably thought he was playing a good joke on me. “Those were goéd old times. We shall never see their like again. Think how tm- possible it would be for anything like that to happen now.” ——— ONE KIND OF SUMMER GIRL. It Was Her Engagement Ring That Made Him Shudder. She was jaunty of air, with a twisted cord of the national colors flying from her white parasol, and she wore a white gown with a blue sash about her trim waist and a red bow at her white throat. It was patriotism and prettiness in most delirious and delightful combination, and yet the young man shuddered. “What's the matter with you?” inquired the elderly party with him, whose eyes were crossed trying to follow the vision of loveliness around the corner. “That girl,” he responded. “By Jove, he hurried on to explain, “she beats the kind of summer girl you read about in the comic papers. I saw her two days ago and as early in the season as it is she had on what she called her summer engagement ring. It was a cluster— “Didn't know,” interrupted the elderly party, “that engagement rings came in ters. Tnought they were solitaires.” ‘Not the summer kind,” explained the young man. “A summer girl has so many engagements, you know, that she has to wear a cluster ring. See? Well, this one wears that kind of a one and she has let patriotism and perverseness and peculiar- ity show itself in it—not to say a strain of cruelty no kind of women except flirts possess. Her ring shows a ruby, dia. monds and sapphires, the red white and blue. So mueh for patriotism. For the sentiment, the diamonds are for the fel- lows who will not or have not gone into the war; the sapphires are the fellows who have donned the blue, and the ruby is for the one who was killed in some way since he enlisted. Either shot by the enemy or killed by accident, I don’t know, for when she told me of it, and turned the ring my way, I'll be blamed if somehow it didn’t give me the creeps and I couldn't ask her any more about it,” and again the young man shuddered. —_—.___ AN EXCEPTION TO THE RULE. He Wan Not Called Upon to Support His Wife. He did not look as if he were composed of the stuff of which heroes are made, but there must have ben some of the di- vine afflatus of courage in his system or he would not have been before the re- cruiting officer seeking to gain admission into the ranks of those who were offering themselves as a sacrifice upon the altar of their beloved country. “What is your name?” inquired the offi- cer in charge. ‘John Smit! “Your age, Mr. Smith?” “Forty-three, next October.” “Where were you born? “In Indiana.” “Do you reside here?” “Yes, sir; have for the last ten years.” “Are you married or single?" “Ah, is that so?” “Yes, sir.” “Well, you can’t enlist?” “Why not?” “Because you are married.” “What's that got to do with it?” “Can't take married men into the sery- ice. “Why not? Hasn’t a married man got courage enough? Can't he be as good a patriot as a bachelor?’ “I suppose so, but we can’t take mar- ried men. They have to stay at home and support their wives and families.” Bison applicant’s face gleamed like a sun- ise. “Oh, that’s all right,” he laughed easily. “You needn’t worry on that account; my wife keeps a boarding; house, and’ has so the second year we were mar- ee Dutch Horticulture. From the London Chronicle. In view o@the coronation festivities which will take place at the end of August: and the commencement of September next, the Dutch florists are exerting themselves to grow red, white, blue, and, in particular, crange-colored flowers, with which to adom emburg, been gt the title “Bweet Little Queen of AiSiiana s very pretty and welcome idea. ~ —_—_<e-______ He—“You seem ah—er—distant this even- he—““Well, your chair isn’t nailed down.” SAILORS WHO RE-ENLIST On the day after his enlistment for @ period of three years the American, man- o’-war’s man begins to figure on the amount of time that is to intervene before his discharge He has two years and a “butt” to do, the “butt” being the remain- ing eleven months and twenty-nine days of the first year. On the day following his completion of the first year of his enlist- ment he has only a year and a butt to get through. No tter if the butt is only a single day under,2-year in length, the blue- jacket contempfates\\the term with the blandest*¢ompl: itis not, at any rate,.a whole year, ..though it be 364 days, and’ this n of throttling each year Of his’ se: fhakes him bappy; it seems to bring , and the more or less témpestueus joys he carefully maps out long before his discharge, within closer range. When” he bas put in eighteen months. of an enlistment, breaks out the homeward-bound fo sttes he is going down-the..hill; and= when he has finally achieved two years and has only the butt to accomplish, joy filis his cup. “Once a sailor always a sailor” is not strictly true of meg-o’-war’s men of the American navy. Only about one-half of the men who compiete’ one enlistment ship for another three-year cruise. But about nine-tenths of the aren whd put in two cruises settle down t6/a life-long continu- ance in the service: years of navy life seem to thoroughly inoculate them with what the Germans call wanderlust. When a bluejacket passes a few of his summers in the latitude of the North Cape and a couple of his winters down among the Ber- mudas or in the salubrious South Pacific he is Ifkely to acqufre a dislike for the cli- mate of the United States, and this dislike has more weight than ‘anything else forming his decision to remain in the navy. Moreover, after acfew years in the navy the bluejacket seems to become possessed of the odd idea that he is really doing noth- ing aboard ship to earn his pay—that the perpetual scurry in which he is kept from ail hands in the morning until pipe down at night is really not work, and with this quaint notion he also acquires an exceed- ingly exaggerated idea of the terrific amount of grinding labor a man has to perform in order to gain a_ livelihood ashore. Put to a bluejacket who has put in a couple of naval cruises the direct ques- tion, “Are you~ going to ‘ship-over’ when your time is out?” and, in nine cases out of ten, he will look you in the eye with an expression of stupefaction and inquire: “What do you think I'm going to do— work?” Overtime men being shipped back to this country on a man-of-war are not compelled to do any of the ship's work; they simply stand the military calls, eat their meals and smoke their pipes, watching the while with lazy happiness the daily round of la- bor of the less fortunate bluejackets at- tached as members of the crew of the ship on which they themselves are practicauy passengers. The overtime men occasional- ly emit arrogantly humorous directions to these temporary shipmates, the ship’s com- pany of the boat that is hauling them home. “G'wan, now, an’ shine up that bright work, ye long-time swab!” they will shout to a deck hand when the officer of the deck {s aft and out of hearing, and “Git down to your bunker, ye grimy fiat- foot, and rake out. your coal!” is the kind of thing the man of the black gang below hears from the “passengers” whenever he tries to smoke a peaceful pipe on the to’gallant fo’c’sle. One of the immemorial customs of the navy jacks is to secrete in the ditty bag of the.discharged shipmate who is about to go ashore a can of corned beef, a few po- tatoes and perhaps one or two other ar- ticles of sea food! This is done in order to remind the discharged man when he opens his bag ashere that in the opinion of his shipmates he, will 2 unable to earn enough to eat on,jand if he takes it into his head not to ship*éVer, and that they have, therefore, taken a ‘small measure to shield him from ogtaryation with a little navy grub when,he.has “spent his pay day.” Discharged men try all sorts of schemes to keep th¥5 staff from being placed in their bags, but'evertheless they nearly always find it there when they get ashore. ee THE RING: FROM ABOVE. oh It Came Ready-Made; for the Poverty Stricken Lovers, Itcowas a time ;for, reminiscing, and it was the reminiseenca.of love instead of war. sb take - ’ “When I was twenty, years, old,” saida veteran of many dollars, “I was working on a farm iri Mddéachtisefts not far from Springfield, where Ifved a pretty little girl as poor as I was, the daughter of a. Metho- dist minister, with. whom I was desper- ately in love. One day, under the shade of a big tree in the church yard, I told her how much there was in my heart and how little there was in my pocket, and asked her to marry me. She was seventeen and silly, and she consented on the spot. For an hour or more after that we sat un- der the tree talking over the fair and fool- ish things that lovers dream, when It oc- curred to me that an engagement ring was the correct thing for such an occasion, and I began bemoaning the poverty which prevented my getting one for the dearest hand on earth. It was absolutely true, too, for I really did not have enough money’ to buy a tin ring, much less the only kind L thought Janie ought to have. But Janie didn’t care for the ring. She said we ought to thank Providence that we had each other, and let the old ring go. She was on the point of saying more, when she stopped suddenly, gave a little scream and pointed to something bright in her lap. I looked, and there lay a pretty gold ring with a small diamond flashing a greeting to us. At first we were afraid to touch It, but we soon got over that, and as we look- ed it over we wondered where it had come trom, and though we knew that the days of miracles had passed, we were both in- clined to think it was a blessing from heaven on our sweet and pure love. “There was no one jn the tree to have dropped it as a joke, but as it could not have reached us by any way other than from above we proceeded to search the tree. Nothing could be’ seen from the ground and I climbed up, and there, over in the fork above us, high up, I found a birds’ nest building and knew that the builders had picked the ring up somewhere, for various bits of colored ribbon and Tags fluttered about the nest. One of these Pieces of silk Janie recognized as the trim- ming of a lady’s gown who came to see her mother, and we decided at once that it was right to see if it belonged to the lady. Thither we went, happy as two children, and Janie went in and I waited outside. Presently she called me in, and when I had, with many blushes, told the story of the ring, the lady gave It to me and said that it was now mine ‘to do with as I pleased. She hoped I would not forget those who had been my friends when Thad no diamonds, and then, right there before the lady I had never seen before, I slipped the ring on Janie’s finger and kissed her. As soon as I had done that the lady kiased Janie, and I'll be shot if she didn’t kiss me, too, and as we went out there were tears in her eyes glistening like the dia- mond on Janie’s finger.” ——- KNEW* IT ALL, acta A Veteran Who Woild Undertake to Cond the War. He claimed to be,a.veteraii of the late war and went to the White’ House to tell the President how>to'-whip the Spaniards. There was some bt?*however, that he had ever been a solgjer.’ "He stopped at the White House door to r rse his story to an ai seven men. 51 “Yes,” she said, atter‘drawing himself to a militaty- pose, “Iteel ttiat I could great- ly ald-in the capture d® Havana, and the President has my afame under considera- tion for a high position: I know as much epowe ‘war as any man. J have been under ire.””” ~ sds at iia “Was the roof of some house you were burning?” blandly- a ee IT WAS A NARROW ESCAPE A party of newspaper men were talking the other evening of the shooting of Ed- ward Marshall, the New York correspond- ent, in that Spanish ambuscade of the rough riders and regulars near Santiago, an@ the conversation @rifted into the nar- ration of narrow squeaks that some of the men present had had tm the the course of their newspeaper careers. “I was about seventy miles from the point at which I came the nearest to drop- ping out for keeps,” said a Chicago man, “and yet I was less than sixty seconds from death at that. It happened this way: “The city editor of my paper—the liveliest paper in Chicago at the time—wanted a Sunday story written about ‘a ht ride on the engine of an express train.’ He wanted a page of it, with illustrations. As I was regarded as the spell-binder-in-chiet of the reportorial staff, the city editor picked me out for the job. He detailed one of the paper's artists to go along with me to make the sketches. I didn’t particular- ly relish the job, for even then I was ad- dicted to the desire to occasionally get in as much as four hours’ sleep in the twenty- four, but I was detailed to make the engine ride, and there was no use kicking about it. So I went to an official of the ‘Big 4° rail- road whom I knew, and made uarrange- ments with him for the trip. The artist and myself were to board the engine of the through express for the east abuut 11:30 one summer night, and ride about 100 miles. Then we were to drop off and re- turn to town to fix up the story. “On the night that we were to start on the trip, I was working away down at the office, reeling off my hotel interviews. I was the hotel reporter at the time. About 10:30, when I was about ready to dig up my artist and start for the station, a telephone call from the Grand Pacific Hotel notified me that Secretary of the Treasury Charley Foster had just arrived at that hostelry from Washington, and the hotel clerk who telephoned me said that if I didn’t want to get beat in my hotel column I'd better chiise down and have a talk with the Sec- retary, who was at that moment corralled by half a dozen of the hotel reporters of other papers. There was a lot going on just then in the nation’s finances, and I didn’t want to get beat on an interview with the Secretary of the Treasury. So I told the city editor that Foster was at the Grand Pacific, and that I'd better nab him. He agreed with me, and away I went to the hotel. I got a good talk out of the Secre- tary—one of the three-minute variety that he was so fond of giving out when he was nailed and had to—and was back at the office, writing it, within half an hour after I left it. I wrote that copy with cyclonic speed, the artist who was to accompany me on the engine trip standing at my shoulder all the while, telling me to chop it off and run for the train. I needn't have hurried, for, when I was nearly through writing the financial interview, the city editor came in and told me that he had Sent another writer and another artist to take the midnight engine ride. Although I didn’t want to go on the trip, I didn’t particularly relish this thing of being sup- planted by another man, and I told the city editor so. “Well,” said he, ‘you've got six minutes. If you can catch ‘the train, go ahead, and send the other man back.’ “I started on a hope for the Big 4 station. Just as I got up to the gate, the gateman was closing it, and the train was already moving pretty swiftly. I made a run for it, all the samee, but I wasn’t -ag good as steam, and I lost. “I went back to the office to stand a trick of emergency duty—which meant staying in the office until 3 in the morning—and I felt a bit sore, because I knew that the man who had taken my place on the en- gine trip would write a swell story of It, 2s qe was a top-notcher and a formidable rival. “At 1 o'clock in the morning a messenger boy crept sleepily into the office and handed me a dispatch—for I was on the desk, read- ing copy. The dispatch announced that the Big 4 express had gone through an open switch, about seventy miles from Chicago, right smack into a round house, and that the engine had been smashed to bits in a turn-table pit, killing the engineer, fireman, the man who had taken my place and the young artist, and injuring a score of the passengers.”” ——————— CHINESE SHOES. The Comfort and Healthfuiness of the Weven Straw Sandals. “I may seem to be quarreling with my bread and butter,” said an up-town chivcpo- dist to one of his best customers the other day, “but in my humble and somewhat pro- fessional opinion, the most sensible cf all men in the matter of footwear is the China- man. Did you ever notice his feet? I don’t believe there is such a thing as a corn or a bunion in all China. Chiropodists would starve to death there so far as the require- ments of the masculine foot are concerned. Whatever the deformities inflicted on the feet of the women of China may be, the men certainly enjoy sound and comfortable understandings Look at the Chinese laun- drymen here in Washington; they stand at their work eighteen hours a day. No class of workingmen I know of spend so many hours on their feet as they do. Yet they never break down there, and physically they are a wonderfully healthy race. “Simple living and freedom from the ner- vous pursuits of our civilization may have something to do with it, but I attribute their exemption from foot weakness and disease to the kind of house shoe so univer- sally worn by them. I have a pair that I have worn for several years and I wouldn't wear anything else for genuine indoor com- fort. They are woven of straw and sea- weed and soled with horse hide. There is a thick sole of straw above the leather and through this the air can circulate freely, keeping the muscles of the under part of the foot always cool. The laundrymen, you notice, are usually barefoot, which is an added advantage in the matter of hea!th- fulness. There is about as little material in the uppers as is consistent with the idea | of a shoe, and this is just enough to keep the thing on the foot. This upper, tou, is woven loosely of seaweed, so that the air can have access to the foot. Nowhere does this shoe pinch or in the least degree press the foot. “These are the indoor shoes of the China- man. On the street here in the United States nowadays he wears very commonly the leather shoes or boots of American manufacture. That is one of the ways in which he is becoming Americanized. But the outdoor cloth shoe of China is a great deal worn also. That, like the indoor shoe, is very thick and soft in the sole and the foot is never pinched or strained by it. The healthiest footgear ever known prob- ably was the sandal of the Greeks. It had no upper, and, as you will see in statuary, the feet of men and women were ideally perfect. All the sandal afforded was a protection from the ground. ‘To him who wears sandals,’ say the Arabs, ‘it is as if the world were shod with leather.’ The Chinaman seems to follow out this motto and his shoes ere nearly soles and nothing more: But the great secret of the excel- lence of his indoor shoe is the half-inch straw sole through which the air circulates to keep the foot cool. If our ions would bring the Chinese shoe into use I think it would be a very good thing for us —that is, speaking broadly. I don't think fit would be so very good for people in my ne of business. But that is another mat- ter, and the danger is not so very near or great.” ; ee VALUABLE WASTE. Refuse of Photograph Galleries ‘Turned to Good Account. “Refiners of nitrate of silver for the use of photographers,” said a man engaged in this line of business in New York to a Star reporter recently, “have agents traveling constantly all over the United States col- lecting the waste clippings of sensitized pa- Written for The Evening Sta - Interruption. I’ve tried to live most proper-like, in quiet an’ content, A-doin’ of my duty, day by day, A-schoolin’ of my disposition, so’s I won't resent The fractiousness that people oft display. I thought that I was gittin’ settled com- fortably down To travel in accordance with my plan Of never makin’ much complaint nor wear- in’ of a frown, An’ a-tryin’ for to love my fellow-man— When along comes a drum, and a fife a-singin’ shrill, An’ the marchin’ of a weapon-wearin’ clan; It’s somethin’ most confusin’ for to feel that martial thrill ‘Whea you're tryin’ for to love your fellow-man. They say, “Forgiva your enemies.” It’s hard to stop and think How them same enemies have raised their hands For deeds from which you might suppose a savage beast would shrink, And scattered terror over many lands. It makes you feel uneasy, if the record you review That’s wrote in blood an’ tears which freely ran; If you think of treachery an’ hate toward laddies dressed in blue, When you're tryin’ for to love your fel- low-man. I know that duty bids me ke2p my angry passions still; I chide myself an’ do the best I can— But along comes the drum an’ the fife a-singin’ shrill, When I'm tryin’ for io love my fellow- man. * * x A Realization, The mild-faced man with the big straw hat, gold glasses and a palm-leaf fan had just turned his back on th> mercury, which was trying to wend its silvery way out of the top of the thermometer. “Well!” exclaimed the friend who wore a canvas helmet; “I must say you look used up. “Used up!” was the rejoinder. “I don’t suppose you are aware that this is one of the times when I am supposed to rejoice and be proud and happ: “What has happened?’ “When a man finds that a long-cherished wish has be2n fulfilled,” he went on, a lt- tle crossly, “ain’t it his business to be happy?” suppose it is. Is that your cas97” ‘o be sure it is. Just'look at me. Here I am utterly oblivious to the price of coal. I don’t wake up in the night any more In a ccld perspiration after drzaming I have been shoveling twenty-dollar bills into the furnace. When I go into a warm room I don’t have to wipe the stecm off my glasses before I can see, and when I go out I’m not afraid of b2ing hit with snow bails. I don’t have to empty the slush out of my sboes when I go home at night, nor put on woolen wear which tickles, nor put my feet in het water, nor take cough syrup. These are the days I have be2n looking forward to ever since the first of December. It's my turn to be .bappy, and I don’t want to be disturbed nor irritated when I'm try- ing to attend to it, »ither.” * x * An Argumentative Effert. The editor of the Pohick Clarion pushed the door open and called to the boy who was feeding the press: “Lem,” he said, “you can stop running off the edition and let the rest of the sub- scribers wait an hour or two. I want you here.” The noise of the press ceased, and the boy came rather slowly into the room. “I've been invited to make a speach on the annexation question tonight,” said the editor. “Some of the people around here are kicking because of the attitude of our congressman on the subject, and he has just written me that if I wanted any help from him, I'd better get into line and do something to keep folks good-natured.” “Haven't we been writin’ editorials enough to satisfy him?” “We've done our best, Lem. But he wants to get ‘em al] together in a hall. We can’t give away iced drinks and ham sand- wiches and other soothing and convincing commodities in an editorial. I've got my speech started, and I want you to listen and let me know where the applause is likely to come in, so I can sort of pause and wait for it. The boy gave a look at the clock, and pushing off a lot of manuscript, sat down on the editorial table. “Friends and fellow citizens,” began the orator: “We are gathered here this evening to discuss one of the most important sub- jects of the age. That question ts the an- nexation of islands in the Pacific ocean.” He paused for recognition from the audi- ence, but Lem was engaged in seeing how close to each other he could swing his feet without hitting them. “Most people,” he proceeded, “have an erroneous tdea about islands. They think they are nothing but spots of dirt sur- rounded by water. Let us pause before we undertake a tremendous and unwieldy re- sponsibility. Islands, my fellow citizens, are not independent geographical quanti- ties. At a first glance, it might seem that nature in her wisdom had stuck them fast to the bottom of the ocean, so that they would not wobble. But the truth is that they are merely projecting pieces of the ocean bed which did not happen to be planed off before the water was turned on. And, therefore, my friends, if we take pos- session of these lands,we inferentially take Possession of the entire bottom of the Pa- cific. They are too.intimately connected to be severed without damaging the earth. I shall not point out to you the undesirabili- ty of ‘taking in a te where the weather is sa warm that they have to use telegraph poles in making thermometers, nor shall I dwell on the fact that they are full of extinct volcanoes, further than to remind you that such things are among the worst nuisances known to clyilization. In all my experience I have never met any- thing r to spell and pronounce than the name of the average ct volcano. I have often expressed myself freely and fully on these points in the columns of the Saas win its unparalleled cirenie- for the cause wit! unj el reula~ tion of one hundred and seven-eighths copies a week.” Pivhere do the seven-eighths come in?” “Nowhere,” replied the speaker, looking at him over the tep of his glasses. “That's to make it look like we figured , Lem made no reply, but putting his head on a pile of papers, stretched out on the table and gazed ora- age and resource, capable of recognizing and seizing them.” ‘That consideration doesn't always count. I was in Cuba some time ago when a young fellow was premoted in the Spanish army end proclaimed a hero through his native country. Wherever he went there was an ovation. He was sung about in the theaters and his photograph was in demand everywhere. He had been scnt out to meet an attacking party of Cu- bans. He didn’t want to go at all. He fairly trembled when he confessed to me that It was the first call he had ever had for dan- serous duty and that he'd give anything he possessed to be out of the affair. In less than twenty-four hours the town was ringing with stories of the way he held his ground when all the men he started with had beat a retreat. It was a marvel that he was not captured, but he stayed for several minutes single-handed to face and fire on the advancing foe. The wonder was that he got away at all.” “It was merely one of these familiar cases of a man's suddenly finding his courage in the presence eal danger.” “No. He was riding a . and just at the critical moment the animal balked.” * ~* Good Intentions. * When we boys are playing ball Father always comes around. Doesn't like the game at all, But you'll find him on the ground, Bat in hand, to take his stand; Perspiration on his brow; Hollering, too, to beat the band, Father wants to show us how. When a circus comes along Father doesn't care to go: But he feels it would be wrong For we boys to miss it, so We all see the elephant, Pelican and sacred cow. Try to feed ‘em, but we can’t Father wants te show us how. Fireworks, they're all foolishness; But we have ‘em once a year. Mother locks ‘em in the press, Different kinds, so big and queer. Pinwheels—safe and lots to spare= ‘They are all that he'll allow Us to shoot when he js there. Father wants to show us how. na eepeaiaaie, OUR SPANISH PRISONERS, How They Are Being Cared for at rt McPherson. From Leslie's Weekly. Within easy access of the city of Atlanta by electric cars, railway and the fine gov- ernment highway, lies the splendid wooded reservation of Fort McPherson. It is re- garded as one of the safest inland fortifica- lions in America. Here are kept the Span- jards who have been captured by our war vessels—our first foreign prisoners of war thus confined since 1812. It is named for Gen. McPherson. Only a few soldiers are left as guards, a a lleutenant is ranking officer. It reminds one of nothing so much as a great university in the holiday time. Three times a day th? prisoners are marched out across the sunny lawn to mess and back «gain. Phe privates move in won- dering silence. The officers affect an indif- ferent air. Stalwart negro soldiers, stolid | and silent, mov> in front and behind. At the meal hours the sergeants have orders to clear the fort of crowds, if any crowds gather. The management at Fort McPher- son is admirable. The buildings are clean and airy, the grounds b=autifully kept and the prispners are treated with courtesy. The Secretary of War has wired special orders as to their treatment. Since their arrival the prisoners hav> improved mar- velously in appearance. Even the privates have regained a certain confident air, the relaxation from the fear pictured on their faces at first heing quite apparent. An of- ficer of the fort, who speaks Spanish, has learned that they expected nothing but in- stant death. The group is typically Spanish, the offi- cers alert and intelligent-looking, the men spiritless, vacant-»yed —mere underlings. Col. Cortijo, the brother-in-law of Weyler, who has just been released to be exchanged for an American newspaper correspondent, is a gray-bearded veteran, apparently, and kas a strong but vicious face, not unlike Weyler himself. While here he was the ranking officer, and always preceded the others in going to and from meals, walking with a swaggering gait, carrying @ can>, smoking a cigarette, with his eyes riveted on the ground in front. ——__~+-._— A Hot Dinner. From the Tacoma Ledger. The warmest meal on record on Puget Sound was eaten Saturday night near Buenna, on the east shore of the sound be- tween Tacoma and Seattle. The feaster was a member of the Bruin family, and beehives loaded with honey and living, stinger-loaded honey-makers was the bill of fare. The hives belonged to Dr. Oliver and were standing in his yard near Buenna. Their delicious honey attracted the bear and tempted him beyond resistance, bees and their weapons notwithstanding. Mr. Bruin was not at all backward in helping himself, and when the feast was done he had swallowed the honey and bees of one hive and part of those of a second. He left nothing to tell the tale except his footprints on the sand, the pa;tly ished hive ard the home and the rem: of the homestead, together with the doctor, who is busy explaining how it happened and congratulating himself upon his fore tunate escape. —__—- +e-+ (Copyright, 1898, Life Publishing Company.)