Evening Star Newspaper, August 27, 1898, Page 14

distinet hysician ewhat of ere are} s trou- % them various ute cures n man 3 selence of ventila- arrangeme has considerable t ver be ad- band should he circulation »mach that between jumping corn. to be troublesome in the at- seems to tem- s in the toe, and ain. As in the ca ad the pressure the cir- xe KOK * “The paragraph !n The Star of last Sat- t the once remark- Tr reporter, ays took time he way rily_ wakes a . upon » get a complete ons who sleep can on a bed, sleep in a ® steamboats have been run,” official of the supervising in- teamboats’ office in the Treasuzy nt to a Star reporter, “it has al- ways been und 4 that better meals prepared 2 on them than in hotels. A k is rot paid as has a he gh he gets much are cook, th more credit for hig work. Hotel cooks have been tried time and time again on steam- . but somehow they ne r to the of th bout ¢ cooked and they are y, but some- a mboat seems I have rarely ever heard 2g on a well plished or of poor m though but ifttie idea of the trouble up a fine meal ery instance to get up the the old-fash- mers for an il- “rn steamboats ie me to taste bett of poor other rivers. The is that are prepared on them are not excelled anywhere in the world—what makes the stearbcat meal go down so well probably is the fact that there is plenty of time in h it can be eaten. There is no . dash or bang about them. In! out of ten the meal is paid for | , the meal ticket being | e can be had to the S AW which y with all ques- . ete, eaten in a hotel. It can be indisputable fact, that, e Ame steam- tist nd even does the average hotel. should be so, but know e judgment of the is a fact.” next couple and sell num- horse a Star reporte erable made buy as much 2s thrown upon Thousand: ext spring. and ¢ horses e been thrown rket during the the past four the fall sea: opens, and as been that ave been as far as price ts con- The keep of horses and mules éur- ing the winter is cons ple. and hardly is in proportion to the e the ie horses hy vght by the government sin for the army in the field and bad the U. der. Before t Bill be branded just un show that they have been. properly con- demned.. The scattering of the camps roughdéut the states means a distribution of the stock also, though it is probabie that 2 stock sent to Cuba with the various tions will be disposed of there or shipped back to Florida. The governmert found in this, as during the last war, t} mules are a far better investment as far transportation ts concerned than horses. They are even better for light artillery m horses, though they are not in it as ras cavalry is concerned. In big lots mules ran all the way up from §85 In Feb- Tuary last to $150, which was the price paid in the last big contract made by the gov- ernment. In each instance they were de- red free on board of the cars at the places purchased, the government psying tor $heir transportation in addition to the ase price. Georgia will come in for a d many of them, for, as I have said be- | times | atel | | been struck. | summer time. | and a half for each chicken.” | “Fo > | reform | number who ften arise af-' NGS AND ayn? FARD EEN> fore, there will not be as for them, as des them through the w x £ eR K ; “It sounded like the splash of a bucket in | a well,” observed one of the soldiers in the arsenal hospital to a Star reporter, “when the Mauser bullet winged me in the right ar just outside of Santiago, and the sound has recurred every hour since, and espe- cially at night time. I was not looking for nything from the Spaniards, nor was my mrade, who received at the same instant plug in the left shoulder, so was as much surprised for the moment as pained. I y that the bullet pained me at all when it entered my ear, though it was very painful soon afterward, and at frequent ince. When I am home I live on a farm, and here became familiar with the ound of a bucket falling down in a well. That was reproduced in my ear. Immedi- behind me one of my comrades was whistling one of the popular ballads. As the bucket splash passed away the sound of the whistling came upon my ear. Tae, two have alternated ever since, and the tors tell me that as the hearing nerves re affected this alternation will continue until my injury has been thoroughly healed h be does not expect for some e In talking to others who were wounded during the engagement where I was I find that it is a general experience with them that the first information that got into their brain that they had been wounded was accompanied by a sound or much competition "t afford to carry imp, rather than a pain. The pain did not as a rule come until the injured one had been fully made aware that he had I met a soldier on the trans- rt which brought us up north who had ived an injury in the ear like myself. He has an advantage over me in that he is constantly hearing a brass band play. | it appears that a band was playing when he was struck. The nerves of the ear have retained that music and seem to be unable to receive any other. The constant Playing imaginary brass band has nearly ex- ed him, and my splashing of a well bucket is even pleasant as compared to his malady.” x KK KOK icken stew is very much improved by tting a pint or a couple of pints of milk into the water that the chicken is bofled * explained an old-fashioned cook to a r r2porter, nd especially where the en is any way ancient or where the It gives a flavcr to the meat besides mak- ing it juicy, and whitens it up, so that to all appearances it is a young chicken. If the bird is particularly tough the milk makes the meat tender and much more palatable. In other ways milk is a decided advantage in preparing chicken. The ques- tion of the amount of milk is a matter of taste experiznee. I use a pint of miilk ch chicken, when I cook them in the In the winter I use a pint ek KKK rd, the brutal murderer of poor Elsle sloe near Mount Pleasant summer be- fore last, little knew that his crime would the neighborhood in which he lived,” said a Maryland farmer to a Star reporter, “but that has been one of th3 ts of that terrible crime. Ford, it may be remembered, lived out near the Burnt mills on the Colesvill> pike, and it was in s in that section that he secreted Limself for some days after his crime. The celored people in that section were very ‘h work:d up about it, for they feared im very much. There was such a lively search for him for three or four nights that the colored people gave the woods | thereabouts a wide range. The night fol- | lewing th hanging of Ford, several saw t in the woods, and there are a have seen it on several oc- casions since. At least they say they have, which is just as good when you are dealing th ghosts. Th2 result is that the people his ghq in that neighborhood, and especially those who used to prowl around at night have time, ven up roaming about, for there is ¥ any telling where the ghost of Ford t show itself. The ghost s:ems to take special pleasure in causing wagons to break down, smashing up’ wheels and the ike, and there are a number of happenings of that kind that have been traced diractly j to nim. Although it is two years ago since the hanging took place, it is a fresh sub- ject among the colored residents of that immediate locality yet, and particularly in the relation of the many appsarances of his ghost. As I have said, the keeping of the matter constantly in the minds of the cclored people thereabouts has proven | Benefictal, and the farmers encourage the circulation of all kinds of ghost stories about him.” — DRIED VEGETABLES. Large Increase in Demand and the Work in the Drying Factory. “The preparation of dried vegetables for | the market,” said a large wholesale dealer in such goods in New York to the writer recently, “has lately become quite an ex- tensive industry in various agricultural parts of this country. Five years ago there were not a dozen factories in New York state where any vegetabie, other than a potato, was dried for the table. Today there are at least twenty factories In this state, and as many more in New Jersey and Pennsylvania where fresh vegetables, such as potatoes, carrots and onions, are dried especially for winter use. ‘The fresh vegetables are brought by truck loads to the drying factory during the summer and fall seasons. They are unpacked, and the good having been sorted out from the bad, the vegetables are taken to the washing room, where they are clean- ed of all particles of dust and dirt that may adhere to them. They are then sent to the peeling room. Here a number of men, ‘women and children are busily employed | With keen-edged knives peeling the vegeta- bles into large baskets. As soon as a bas- Ket has been filled the peelea vegetable, be it potato, carrot or onion, is dumped into a hopper made to hold onegof those three jal vegetables. From there they are fed to a machine with rotating knife blades which cuts them up into small slices about @ quarter of an inch thick. “After being sliced the tubers are slightly sulphured in a chamber built of wood. Here | great discrimination must be used, for if j tt are sulphured too much the potatoes will taste of the fumes; if too little, they will not contain enough antiseptic property and bacteria attracted by the starch will develop. The sulphuring process is neces- sary to preserve the color of the vegetables as tar as possible, and to prevent decay. ‘After this process the potatoes are not spread out in the sun, but put into an evaporator. The Jatter looks like a small Ferris wheel and is inclosed in a sort of brick oven with glass windows. Within this it revolves close to hot-air pipes for a few hours. When the moisture {s" suf- ficiently evaporated the cars of the wheel } are emptied through the windows, and their contents are ready to be packed in boxes for the market. When the sliced potatoes are taken from the evaporator they resem- ble dry chips, and it takes six or seven pounds of the fresh vegetable to make one pound of the dried article. Other vege tables than those mentioned are at present in process of development. Thus far the industry has proved very profitable, as evinced by the increased demand for dried vegetables all over the country during last winte! —— Grim China Ware. From the Hong Kong Telegraph. A good deal of annoyance has been caused by the shipment to Canton of the corpses of men, women and children who have suc- cumted to plague in Hong Kong. All sorts of devic=s are resorted to to get the bodies out of Hong Keng, the latest being the stowing of the bodies in large packing cases, which are labeled “china ware.” On arrival at Canton the customs officers examine all goods that are dutiable, and as china wars is not included in the free list this new- fashioned “china ware’ has, of course, been stopped in transit, and as, when the hitch occurs, ho consignees come forward to claim the “geods,” tha trouble and expense con- rected with the disposal of the bodies de- volve upon the Chinese authorities. How many bodies have been smuggled into Can- ton and Honam there is no telling, but, judging from the gossip of the tea houses and bazaars, the number is considerable, teat is darker than is desired or relished. 4 ? ~ Fe: %s € THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 1898-24 PAGES. LOVED BY HIS MENIA NEW Y@Rk CUSTOM “The lasting affection that common sol- diers so often conceive for a certain officer may generally be traced to a single inci- dent,” said a War Department clerk who put in a ten-year stretch in the regular army of the United States. “This thought came to me yesterday afternoon when I read in The Star of the gradual recovery of a field officer who was badly wounded in the fight- ing before the heights of Santiago. I shall not mention Kis name, for reasons that will be obvious when I tell you a story of him. T'll wager that there's not a buck soldier alive today that ever served under this of- fleer who's not eagerly reading the dis- patches every day to find out how he is getting on with his wound, for he surely is joved and honored by the enlisted men of the regular army: And the love and honor they bear him is all traceable to a single incident of note, aside, of course, from the squareness, manliness and the tender-heart- edness he always exhibited toward his men. Vil tell you the incident. “I was a buck private in an infantry com- pany stationed in a three-company outflt ‘way down in Arizona, of which this officer was the first lieutenant. He was a fine sol- dier, with a heart in him to match his giant frame, and I'm forced to confess that he had often to almost lie for some of us fel- lows in his outfit to keep us out of trouble with the ‘old man.’ The ‘old man,’ other- wise the commanding officer of the post, was a major and a man of very violent, unreasonable and eccentric temperament. His sanity was frequently in question dur- ing the latter years of his service, and he was finally compulsorily retired. The com- manding officer was a disciplinarian and o martinet of the first water, and he surely did gruel us almost unbearably. Our first lieutenant stood between us and the ‘old man’ as @ sort of bumper, and he finally gained the cordial ill-will of the command- ing officer on account of the humane and generous way he had of treating us. He was in command of our company, the cap- tain being on special service attached to a foreign court, and he certainly got us into a high state of efficiency, without using any bulldozing tactics whatsoever, but through the exercise of squareness and xcniieness. But he gained the ill-will of the command- ing officcr, and the ‘old man’ made Hie pretty uncomfortable for him. He perse- cuted him in all sorts of petty ways, with the idea of forcing him to ask for a trans- fer, and from disliking the first lieutenant the commanding officer grew to dislike the first leutenant’s company—ourselves, that is—and he put it onto us In any number of mean old ways. He'd refuse to give us permission to pass the limits of the post sSometimse for weeks together—against all regulations, of course—and he never failed to avail himself of an opportunity to show his preference for the other two companies in the post over our outfit. I think we grew to be pretty mutinous in spirit under this galling treatment, but no man in the company thought of deserting, on account of the first lieutenant. We didn’t want to give him any cause to feel ashamed of the outfit. “One afternoon, when the temperature of the post was about 110 degrees in the shade of the quarters and about degrees out on the sandy parade ground, the command- ing officer sent for the first lieutenant a nd ordered him to take us out and drill us in skirmish formation, in heavy marching or- der. “ ‘Sir,’ said the first lieutenant to the com- manding officer when he received this order, you know the temperature of the parade ground? (The commanding officer's order_ ly told us about the conversation.) As well as you do,’ replied the com- muanding officer. ‘You are to immediately Set your company into heavy marching order and drill them on the parade ground, ast dir I shall be on hand.’ The lieutenant saluted and left the office. We could see that the thing stuck in our company When he appeared order. commander’s throat at the quarters with the We lay on our bunks panting for but at his word we hopped into vy Be gular field order, blanket, ersack, kk kK, ete., the parapher- to weigh a ton on each of bled in front of the quarters. Tr a bit of a fiery light in the first lieutenant’s eye when he appeared, himself in heavy marching order, to lead us out to the parade ground. He took us out, got us into extended formation, and began on us. We knew the drill by heart and could beat any other outfit In the regiment at it— yet we didn’t shirk it on this occasion, for the first lieutepant’s sake, but hopped through it as if we were at Fert Assi beine in zero weather, instead ‘of broiling and blistering on the sand under a terrific semi-tropical sun. After a while the com- manding officer-strode out of his quarters to the parade ground, where he got under the shelter of a scrub tree and watched our movements with a somewhat sardonic look upon his countenance. Then the post surgeon saw us from his quarters window, and came out to the parade ground on a lope. Post surgeons have authority in the matter of temperatures at which soldiers shall drill or work, and he flatly told. the commanding officer that It was an outrage for him to have us drilled when we stood in momentary danger of being sunstruck, the whole lot of us. He practically de- manded the commanding officer to have us sent In, under penalty of having the mat- ter called to the attention of the War De- partment, and he was practically told to go to the devil for his pains. The post sur- gecn went to his quarters fuming. Then half a dozen of our fellows keeled over from the heat, and had to be carried off. Still the commanding officer didn’t let up on us. Instead, he rose from his seat un- der the tree and walked over to our first Leutenant. “‘Tientenant,’ sald he, drawlingly, ‘drill the men for a while at the double time.’ Double time, you know, is cantering. “The lieutenant raised his head and look- ed the commanding officer fair and square in the face. Then he walked over to hi “ ‘Sir,’ said he, disgust and rage and de- flance choking his voice, ‘so long as the army of the United States is burdened and disgraced by such blackguards, curs and cowards as you are, as you always have been, and as you always will be, just so long will it be an unfit service for a gen- Ueman.’ “Then he quickly drew off his dogskin gauntlets and threw them on the ground, and, pulling his sword from its seabbard he raised it horizontally, bent and broke it squarely in the middle with a snap, and threw the two pieces at the commanding officer's feet. The commanding officer was yellow to the soul. He flushed, and in a Weak voice ordered the lieutenant to his quarters in arrest. The lieutenant telegraphed his resignation to the President ten minutes later. His resigna- tion was not accepted. Instead, there was en investigation, and, the commanding offi- cer having far the worst of it according to regulations, the whole thing was hushed up. The lieutenant was transferred to an- other regiment. There wasn’t a man of us that wouldn't have gone to h—I and back for the soldier and gentleman who took such a desperate chance of losing his com- mission in taking a stand for our benefit, and you can wager that the boys of the regiment he went to, and the men of the whole army, in fact, heard of the incident through us. And they stand for him to the finish down to the present day for it.” —— Pulled From a Telegraph Pole. From the Chicago Jourval. Eldridge McFarland was at the top of a telegraph pole yesterday. He {fs now lying at his home with a sprained wrist and an injured back. : A locomotive did it. McFarland is a lineman in the employ of the Chicago Tslegraph Company. He was stringing a wire at 138th and Halsted streets and climbed the pole with a coil about his body. When he had reached the top he leisurely started to fasten the line to th? insulator. He did not rotice the end which was drag- ging on the ground, but a passing locomo- tive did. The stray end coiled about the smokestack and clung there lovingly. The Saha end stuck just as tightly to McFar- land. In th? ensuing tug-of-war the man was no match for the iron horse. In a twin- kling he was jerked from his lofty position and hurled twenty-five feet through the air. By a lucky charce he landed almost right side up and escaped with his life. The engin? is as chipper as ever, +0 Hotel Investments. From the Philadelphia Record, s Hotels and apartment houses are becom- ing @ more conspicuous feature of the Philadelphia landscape than they were a few years ago, and as a slight inducement to the investment of capital-it may be mentioned that the estimated amount of capital invested in Gesmany in. hotels amounts to $300,000, giving empicyment to a miilton persons. ‘The capital invested in hotels amoants to $80,600,000, yielding a profit of 4% per cent. The “growler,’ an institution of “whi who haven’t beenco: such wicked, wicked thé “duck,” is ‘Washingtonians ted by visits to as New York ‘This story is related to fllustrate that fact. A young New Yorf€ man, who recently re- celved an appointment in the Treasury De- partrhent, moved with hig wife into a house far over on P stréet the other day. The couple had a hot afternoon's work of it in getting their stuff. instalicd and planted, and when the sh: ol ht drew about, the New York man aad likewise the New York man’s spouse, decided in the conven- tional and lamentable New York manner that a pitcher full of beer would be about the right thing. ‘hese young people were from New York, remember. = “Gimme a pitcher—a big, deep pitcher—a wash pitcher ‘ud he best, probably—and I'll go after it,” said-the husband. “Do you know, Jim,” ‘said his wife, “that I really believe it.is nat the custom down here in Washingten “i go right plainly and boldly after beer. ‘Really, [ believe it isn’t. And all of the geopie around here sitting on the steps, too: And we wouldn’t want to be looked at askance, you know. And yet, Jim, : “Of course you want it?’ sald he. “Want it just as bad ag I do, Going to have it, too. The neighbors around here don’t pay my rent, de they?’ Bet they don’t. Gimme that wash pitcher, and I'}} put it in one of those empty flour bags. #U- run a biuff, anyhow, if there’s so much danger of our being dispossessed.” So he enfoided the pitcher in a clean, white Nour bag, and started for the corner. He hadn't gotten ten feet beyond own gate when the man who lived next door ap- proached the fence of his yard, and said he to the New Yorker: You'll pardon -me for addressing you, sir, but I notice you are taking that cat away, probably to lose, it, and it occurs to me that you might be willing to let me bave it instead. My little girl's cat mysteTl- ovsly disappeared a couple of days ago, and she has been pining for a feline piay- thing ever since. I'll promise you to take good care of it, as you may imagine.” ‘The New Yorker looked at his neighbor. “I'm going to the corner to get a pair of artificial ears for it,” he sald, “I'll give it to you when I get back,” A little further down the street a small colored boy tackied the New Yorker. “Mistah,” said the colored boy, “give de pup t’ me, suh, won't yo’ all, suh? Yo’ all "i hav’ v waik uh mile befo’ yo’ fin’s any watuh t’ drown him, suh, an’ Ah’d laik—” The New Yorker pased on. The cop standing on the corner regarded the New Yorker's Nour bag with great sus- picion. “No,” said the New Yorker politely to the cop, “I’m not a second stcry worker, and this is not silver in the bag. It’s a can and I'm chasing it. Not guilty. Searoh me." : By this time the New York man was in an unpleasant frame of mind. But he got the pitcher filled and sturted back with it. The neighbor who wanted a cat was still standing In his front. yard. The neighbor who wanted a cat thought the New York man insane. - “My friend,” said the New York man, “I'ma bit shy on cats just now, but if you care to come into my house I'l fix you out with a duck all right.” The New York man’s neighbor {s now perfectly certain that the New York man is insane, if not wékse. ‘4 “Here's to our new Arcadia,” sald the New York man and his wife, as they sipped the contents of the pitcher. ANSWERS TO ‘CORRESPONDENTS. “Anxious Enquirer:” No, the New York T-mes did not urge the appointment of Sec- retary Alge: to the Parfs peace conference with a view to advancing his prospects as a candidate for the presidency. Judging from an editorial in thag paper, the Times would seem to hay2 some other position in view for Mr. Alger+ “Lieut. Hobson:’”-Yes,*a wire mask, such as is used by base,bgll catchers, would un- Goubiedly aftord you. considerable protec- ton from such asgaultg,, You can find the article at almost any sporting goods store. A base ball hat might aiso be found eff32- tive, bui ig 18 rather unwiéldy, and its use would hardly be approved, even by your friends. : “Student:” You and your friend are both wrong. The dome of the Capitol is not nearly as large as that of St. Pster’s, in Rome, and the last-named is not the largest in the world, as he claims. It is exceeded in diameter by that of the Pantheon in the same city. But the largest dome in ciz- cumference in the world is in the town of Buxton, in Derbyshire, England. It sur- mounts a building new used as a hospital, but originally constructed for a riding school. “English Engineer:” No, Washington is not “in all respects the best paved city in the world.” Very far from it, on ths other hand. Much has beeni done by its authori- ties for the benefit of carriage owners and bicyclers, but very little for the comfort of pedestrians. Some of the brick-paved sid3- walks have been down for nearly half a century without repairs, and the condition of many of them would be discreditable to a country village. When her footwaiks are mad2 equal to her carriage ways, Washing- ton will be entitled to the reputation you think she deserves; not until then. “S. S. Teacher:” Fighting Bob” was in no danger of arrest while in New York last Saturday. The anti-swearing law en- acted by that eminent pietist, Mr. Guggen- heimer, has been repealed. It is under- siood that it threatened to-depopulats New York if allowed to stand. “Rural Visitor:” Yes, “the object in the tower of the new so-called post office” to which you refer is really a clock. That is, it has wheeis, etc., as well as dials. But manifestly it wes not pu there for service as a time-keeper; only for symmetry. And in appearance and utility it is in admirable keeping with the architectural styl: and method of construction which make that building notable as one of the government’s finest failures. “Bostonian: No, we don’t think the fel- low who has been selling painted English sparrows for canary birds to ths people of your city, at from three to five dollars a pair, could do the same thing here success- fully. Washingtonians take their English sparrows, served on toast, as reed birds, — Horses’ Remarkable Journey. From the St. Lonis Globe-Democrat. Nine horses owned in Ventura, Col., have just made a remarkable journey. A few months ago T. S. Cook took them to Invo county, 300 miles from here, on account of the lack of pasture here. A few days ago they reached bo ving escaped from the pasture and traveled the 2ntire distance without driver cr merder. They were seen traveling on a trot,oamday must have covered the first 200 miles Yt mé?2'from the pasture without water, feed or Hest, as there is ab- solutely no feed onghe jay and water must be bought and pajd far at a good round price. is.” be —Se Doing :His Share. From the Chicago Ret rd. 2 “Aren't you ashamed. fot to go to war?” “No; somebudy Mas. to stay at home to praise the troops. .i:t ‘ (Copyright, 1898, Bite Publishing Compatiy, “Dat's Wordsworth MeLubberty, de ward Form, a0 ay ter ‘ett, lasde: Diebt Shona’ tos ers, SO as ter git, » ight, write a veal melancholic pome,” £ THE MAN WITH A VIOLIN ‘When the swarthy, smooth-faced, for- etgn-looking and somewhat seedily clad young man, with the worn violin case tightly clutched under his arm, entered the smoking car of a train bound hence tor Baltimore the other afternoon, he looked warm, weary and depressed. The young man looked ill-nourished. His drawn, es- thetic face contrasted curiously with his shock of coarse, dull-black hair, which he nervdusly pushed back from his forehead when he removed his dingy black derby upon taking a seat in the smoker. He handled the violin case caressingly, an@ regarded the brass racks provided in cars for the reception of such articles with sus- picion. He decided not to trvst his violin in any of them, but rested it, end-up, be- tween his knees. Then he looked some- what anxiously out of the car window, as if expecting the appearance of a belated traveling companion, “A street fiddler,” you would have sald, sizing up the young man with the violin case, “about to depart for other fields, and nervous over the non-arrival of the harp- ist and the flute player. The smoking car rapidly filled up, and still the yourg man kept his head poked out of the car window, scrutinizing al! the passengers approaching the train from the gate very earnestiy. The train was within sixty seconds of its departure, when he withdrew his head from the car window and put his violin case up on the vacant space uf the seat he occupied, apparently for the purpose of reserving it. “All aboard!’ iad been shouted, and the train was already slowly moving out, when a sharp-faced yourg man, rather well dreseed, and with rather more than two parts of a jag, apparently, lumbered into the smoking car. He was a bit ostenta- tious in his handling of his jag. He seemed very good-natured, and he appeared an un- settled youth, who had gone astray over the races, or something of that sort. The only vacant seat in the smoker was that beside the young man with the violin case, whereon the case rested. The dissipated- looking youth made for that seat with ap- parent difficulty, owing to the curves in the road. “Hey, there, fiddler,” said the young man with the Jag, gcod-naturedly, “how is it for this seat?” The young man with the violin case smiled graciously, removed the violin case from the seat, and the young man with the jag sat down heavily. His face was very shrewd, and as he sat down he mace a lightning-quick, but very thorough, ex- amination of the car's passengers. The passengers were rather a prosperous-look- ing lot of men. 2 The train had not much more than crossed “he District iine when the young man with the ostentatious jag dug into his valise, produced a silver flask, and passed it around to ali hands. Only a couple of the passengers accepted a nip, for the af- ternoon was very warm. ‘When the young man with the flask re- sumed his seat he seemed to take a great interest in his seat-mate. He inspected him carefully. Finally: “Got a fiddle in that case, Jacko?” he in- quired of the foreign-looking young man. ‘The latter smiled arsent. “What's the matter with giving us a tune, thea?” “Eeet ees ver’ varm,” replied the fiddler, smiling and showing his good white teeth. “What's dif?" persisted his jagged seat mate. et out the fid, and let's have a scrape or two. The bunch of us'll fix you out all right 'f you do.” “Oh, for zat!’ was the reply. “Zat is someseeng differong. I am—wat you call— broke, ees eet? Vell, I play.” He carefully removed his violin from the case and tuned it up. He handled the in- strument as if he knew how to play it. He did know how to play it. He started in on a Polish dance~a weird and surely difficult bit of work, mostly chords hign up on the A and E strings. He did it extremely well. It was not fiddling. It was violin piaying. ‘The young man with the flask rose in his seat in his excitement. “Why, say, there, Bill,” he exclaimed when the player had finished the piece, “you're a cachuca on that thing! You're the real article! G’wan and give us s’more. And, say, cut out that dinky dago music, and play us something American—‘Break the News to Mother,’ or something like that.” As he spoke the young man with the os- tentatious jag dug into his waistcoat pocket, fished out a dollar bill, and threw it on the seat beside the musician. The violinist—not looking as if he enjoyed it very much—played “Break the News to Mother,” “On the Banks of the Wabash” and a few other ballads with singular mel- lowness of expression. “Why, blame it all!” ejaculated the young man with the jag, “you're great, blow me if you ain't! Where d’je pick it up? Here, wait a minute!” He grabbed the seedy black derby from the musician’s head, threw a silver dollar into it, and started down the aisle. “That duck's all right, isn’t he?” said he, addressing the passengers in general. “Makes the blooming thing talk, doesn’t he? Says he’s broke, too. Dig up and give him a shove along. No, you don’t have to cough up a whole dollar just because I chucked in a couple. A half's about the size. Good boy! Room for the fiddler’s chapeau! Says he’s fiat on his uppers. Let’s get up a decent bundle for him,” ete., etc. Now, if the fiddler himself had sprung his music, and-passed the hat around after- ward, he might have got a bit of back- sheesh, but it would have consisted of pen- nies, nickels and perhaps a dime or two, But the frank, generous spirit of comara- derie of the jagged youth, lurching through the car with the hat, sort of put the pas- sengers—who had really enjoyed the music, anyhow—on their mettle, and they chipped in halves and dollars. The youth lurched forward and handed the half-filled hat to the musician, whose teeth gleamed again. “Ah, ze Kind Americains!” he exclaimed, gratefully. Then the train pulled into the Baltimore station, and he stepped off wiia many a bow. The young man with the jag stepped off, too, at Baltimore, half a min- ute later. Curiously enough, as he mingled with the crowd passing out of the gate his jag seemed to leave him. He looked around sharply. The violinist joined him. The writer happened to be right behind tue air. i “How much?” alertly inquired the young man who had had the property jag. “Nearly eighteen kopecks,” said the vio- linist, wich no accent whatsoever, and wiia a satisfied expression of countenance. “Hully Santiago! but what a graft!” was the exclamation. This is a sad old world. oer ages Tells How Fast the Train is Going. From Pearson's Weekly. An ingenious form of speed-recording ap- paratus has been recently devised for use in some German railway experiements. While simple in design, it proved exceed- ingly effective, and showed, moreover, not only the speed at any particular moment, but the time in whichstops were made, speed round curves, up grades, etc. Electrical connections were made on the axle of the carriage in such a manner ‘hat a dash and a space were marked off ac euch revolution on a paper strip moved by eloox- work. By marking the length of ribbon correspondifg to one minute of time and counting the number of dashes containe? therein, the number of revolutions is given at once, and from the diameter of the wheels the speed can readily be computed. Jn the experiments referred to, the paper ribbon was ruled so that one second of time was represented by one millimeter of space, and by a subsequent arrafigement of curves a graphic record of speeds under various’ conditions was attained. 0 Curly-Haired Jurors Are Disliked. From Pearson's Weekly. It is not genérally known that there is a prejudice against curly-haired men when it comes to choosing a jury to try criminal cases. The prejudice, when it is manifest- ed, comés from the defense. When asked to explain the objection to curly-haired men a prominent barrister recently said: “When I was just starting my legal men- tor Inculcated that idea in me. He said that curly-haired men had almost invaria- bly been the pampered darlings of their parents, and in their youth had been so used to having their own way that they had come to believe that everybody on earth was wrong except themselves. “In this way the seeds of opposition are sown, and when they grow older they make it a point to disagree with everybody and everything, If everybody else on the ji votes for acquittal, they vote for con’ tion, as a matter of stubborn. ~ JOHNSON» An Unsympathetic Estimate. ‘There was no mistaking the species of the round-shouldered man with colored glasses, an ill-fitting alpaca coat and congress gaiters. He was an unmistakably fine specimen of bookworm. He looked up with ill-concealed annoyance when a friend came bustling into his study to get a letter trans- lated. “I'll attend to that tomorrow,” said the student, as he pushed the paper aside and proceeded to make some notes on the mar- gin of a large leather-bound volume. “But I want it right away. You see, this is business.” * “Humpa!” was the contemptuous rejoin- der. “I suppose you are prepared to con- tend that business is the most important institution in human Ife.” “Well,” was the answer, “It comes pretty near being, so far as 1 can make any esti- mate.” “More important, of course, than general knowledge.” “Look here; have you read about Plato having lost two of his back teeth while cracking nuts?’ Not” was the animated response. “That must be a recent discovery.” “Did you know that Kantippe had a mole on her left ear and squinted?” “I never heard of such a thing. These are Most important circumstances if the re- ports can be even approximately verified.” “Were you aware that Julius Caesar wore his toga wrong side out, if he happened to put it on that way, bechuse he was afraid of bad luck if he changed it?” ‘A most astounding idiosyncrasy!”’ “You regard these things as important?” “I should say so. They demand investl- gation. Where did you read about them?” “Nowhere. I merely wanted to know if that’s the sort of research that will cause @ man to forget his dinner and let the fire go out in cold weather. I suppose it's eru- dition, but I must say I can’t make any- thing of it, except vulgar personal curios- ity.”” And the man of letters scratched his head with the end of his pen and said he had never thought of it in that light, and that it was a theory which it would be worth while to read up on and investigate. * x * A Juvenile Optimist. My gran’ded says these medern days Of steam an’ ‘lectric ight Beat unything that ever was; An’ gran'dad’s mostly right. But I can’t help some Goubtfulness When into bed I climb An’ dream about those good old days Of Once Upin a Time. I've got to hustle on the farm When I get big enough. I wish I knew some fairy spell To do the work that's rough. I'd like to make the brownies toll By sayin’ some queer rhyme The same as them there wizards did In Once Upon a Time. I wish that polishin’ our lamp A genie would arouse So's I could say, “Go, siave an’ feed ‘Them pigs an’ miik the cows.” I'd make him wear the over-alls An’ face the mud an’ grime. But this ol’ earth ain’t what it was In Once Upon a Time. Yet, history repeats itself, My gran’dad says, an’ so I keep on hopin’ as I watch The seasons come an’ go ‘That I may live to see “em back— ‘The brownies in their prime, ‘The wizards an’ them other folks Of Once Upon a Time. x * * Resentment. “Looky yere,”” said the old colored man, as he stepped inside the door, “do dat oldes’ boy er mine wuck foh you?” “Ig that oldest boy of yours named Han- nibal?’ asked th> man who was working in his shirt sleeves. “Yessuh. De people whah my wife wah wuckin’ named ’im aftuh whut I un'stan's is a ve'y fine fam’ly er white folks. “Well, he’s been employed h2re.” “Dces I un’stan’ him gorreckly. when he says dat dis aftuhnoon you done call "im a denkey?” “I believe I said something of the kind.” “I hopes dat in Ge light o’ second thought you isn’ gwinster stan’ by dat ar com- parison.” “I don't sce how it makes much differ- ence.” “Dah is limits ter patience. An’ I ain’ gwineter hab no slander goin’ around whah i's interested. You mus‘n’t call dat boy no donkey. I's got er donkey. He doesn’ chew terbacker ner drink blackberry ‘an’ gin, ner go ter sleep when he orter be workin’. An’ when de watermillions is missin’ f'um somebody's patch in de neigh- borhood, dey doesn’ come aroun’ dst don- key’s manger lookin’ foh rinds. He do>sn’ complain "bout de vittles ner make fun er folks dat’s older an’ mo’ sensible dan he is. An’ when you want ’im, you knows whah ter find ‘im, an’ you doesn’ nebber lay awake o’ nights skyaht foh fear ‘is name’ll b2 in de mornin’s paper. I's de father of de boy an’ de owner ob de don- key, an’ I's hyuh ter see dat justice is did. Don’ you call dat boy no donkey.” * x * His Sense of Humor. It is a much-abused quantity, this phrase “a sense of humor.” “The trouble with most people,” said the young man with: wide, wavy ears and a voice like a lawn mower, “is that they haven't a faculty for seeing the amusing side of life. They’ve got to have something labeled ‘this is funny’ before they will un- derstand that it’s time to laugh. They miss lots of chances to enjoy themselves clmply because of thefr own carelessness and stu- pidity. Then he gave a loud, discordant “haw haw,” which made everybody in the vicin- ity dislike him. “Don't you think there are occasions on which our sympathies are so strongly ap- pealed to that hilarity is impossible?” in- quired the quiet, elderly man. “Not if you have the gift of seeing the funny sife of things. There's no excuse for siving in to dull care and mefanchely. f saw an incident the other day which goes to prove what I say. There was a young than sitting in front of me on the car. A lady sat next him, and I could see by her fidgety manner that anybody with a sense of humor would be able to get something worth taughing at if he would keep his eyes open. In a few minutes she slid along the seat next close beside him and said ‘Are you familiar with the wames of the hotels in this city?’ I felt sorry for that young fellow. He didn’t have any sense of Hie simply sai that he knew humor at alt. most of the hotels, and then she told him all about the case. fhe had come from somewhere up in New York state. Mer eon bad enlisted against his parents will, and I guess they had had som» rather hard words before he left home to be a soldier. But just the same she ki on sending him bexes full of afi sorts of ihings to relieve the monotony of soldier fare, most of which, for some reason, he never got. b could hardly keep from swickering when I saw how surprised and annoyed she was because her son Gidn't get the provisions. But the young fsliow she was talking to Gidn’t seem to see the joke £ istered with the gravest face imaginable as she told how, when she heard the boy had taken typhoid fever, she bad ieft home to come and see him, The nurse asked bisa thet morning whom he would rather see i thon any one else in the world, and he had answered ‘you.’ ‘Isu't there any one you would rather see more than me? sho ask- ed, and he aaid, “No; au ons thet there is any hope of seeing,” and chen turned his heal over on his pillow, as if ae was tired of being questionsd. Bat the nurs? said, ‘Wouldn't you like to see your mother? and he turned, And when he turned to look at her his cyes were full of wars, and in a minute more his molier was imugging him and he was feeliag happier and stronger than he had felt in weeks. And I'm blest if the excitement of it al! didn't make her ni i plum forget what hotel she was stopping at. And that young fellow din’t appreciate {it at all. He sat there and named all the hotels he could think of over, because she said she thought she would remember the nam< if she heard mt The idea of her coming to a atrange town and forgetting what hotel she lived at didn’t strike him the way :t did me the minute I realized what oud happened He didn’t have any sense of autor theiwwes.” * * % Envy. Butterfly, he cry an’ sigh, As he met me ‘neaf de tree, Whah de loafin’ hours went bys “Wisht I wus a honey bee. He hab comfort in completeness; Got @ hive chock full o’ sweetgese Luckier dan de likes o’ me. Wisht I wes a honey bee!” Says de bee, says he to me, “ Tain’ no use foh me to try To be frolickin’ an’ free. Wisht I wus a botterfiy. Nuffin’ "tall to do but dancin’ Whah de sunbeam comes a-glancis’, I must tofl an’ sleep an’ dic. Wisht I wus a butterfly?” —— A Cup of Coffee. From the Philadelphia Times, Coffee lovers ere pericdically assailed with the dread, amounting sometimes to conviction, that their favorite beverage is not wholesome for them. These will be reassured by some experiments in diet which a physician has carried on at a hos- pital revently. He found, to quote from his report, that coffee acted upon the liver and was altogether the best remedy for constipation and what is called a bilious condition; that tea acted in precisely an opposite direction—namely, as an astrin- gent, and he adds: “Nothing we found could bring the peace to a sufferer from a tmalerial chill that wouid come from a cup of strong coffee with a little lemon juice added. Another interesting fact developed by these same experiments was that for neuralgia in its simple form fresh, strong, hot tea was almost a specific. Many coffee lovers who find at times that the drink is not agrecing with them will notice a change for the better in its after effect if the cream is left out. This is not so great a hardship as it seems, provided care is taken to have the coffee of the best quality and served clear, fairly strong and hot. After taking it in this way for a few morn- ings with a lump or two of sugar it will be almost an effort to return to the cream compound. The difference between the creamless morning coffee and the after-din- ner French coffee is that the latter is in- fused and the former usually boiled. To bring coffee just to the boiling point and bold it there for a moment or two develops, so the chemist say, the stimulating prop- erty. The breakfast coffes, therefore, which is intended to freshen one for the day. should be prepared in this way. The lit cup taken at the end of *he dinner and the day is better to be simply infused through the French coffee pot, as the ex- citing property is helpfully spared at such time.” ——___—_+2-_____ “One of the most impressive lessons of my childhood was to lay by something for a rainy day,” exclaimed a wet tramp as he entered a wayside cottage and threw him- self down beside the kitchen stove.—Rich- mond Dispatch.