Evening Star Newspaper, October 8, 1898, Page 14

i THE EVENING STAR SATURDAY OCTOBER 8 1898—24 PAGES. he day at th more by ays! nt Clev Wh th the inds Mansio Octoh and ket, int iren up i that I n wh fore de ept two, . one in 2a hen I have neve horse ch» ply phur the is absorbe xe ® riy ay miion to the matter would “Are you ‘No, nearly ides 1 into ek much better than is hig! ingle inst but is a Hf until ¢ t connectio ering them wa ehildr m, from the fact © House ground: ng from a rheumatic 2 in comparison was sufficient to re- e from pain sident I picked up them in my pockets. I returned to time I got there my I gave ail which I carri here. virtue in them | contain, and that h> system.” and. House Preside immediately | It up two or was about ending Ibany ake some Preside had ofter te 1 k or gon tnut in my pocket, ch year from a Ph > city, > distance well. The h in is much su but On It or more pi least four on some sleepers, and at on every sleeper.” plac * Oe ee | Many stories have been told going to show the marvelous storage capacity of the average small h pockets, but there happens to be in Washington a grown man whose personal cargo stowed away in his clothes can easily break any record of the ort in existence. He is a well-known citi- | zen, an ele an, end here is the bill of lading, so to k, which shows precisely | what he had in his pockets the other day. | The record was made as the articles were brought forth: r turtle weights, ing rod circulars, 1 pair plain e 1 pair reading g . 3 lead pen- , 1 bottle lithia tablets, icine, 1 paper calomel, 1 paper Rochelle ts. 8 skeleton keys, 3 | handkerchiefs, bunch of 6 keys, another bunch of 6 keys, 1 sample set of lightning <, 20 postal cards, 5 en- , 1 2-cent ana stamp, 1 steamboat 1 electric car ticket 1 pair gold eyeglasses, 1 pair blue ses, 1 pair steel frame eyeglasses, 1 grain quinine pills, 1 S-grain quinine pills, 6 soda mint 6 bluemass pills, 12 sugar-coated %-grain morphine granules, 2 drackms kerosene “for bites,” 6 street 1 pocket book for change, 1 pocket 15 blotters, 1 bank book, 5 blank $1,000 worth of unpaid notes, 50 pa- in legal envelopes, toothpicks, 6 1 comb, 1 box of match 1 whistle, 1 bunch of 1 prescription, 100 elas: Ss. 1 fountain pe bottles liquid mei ucket, 1 ferry ticket | book rubber : 2 dozen pens, a box of troches, 1 key, 2 iron safe keys, 1 roll of sank notes, 1 flour tester, 1 will, 7 meal tickets, 1 indelible pencil, 3 plats of ground, 2 flat night ke % ounce of bi- sulphide of mercury, 1 kage of pins, 1 silver indelible pencil, 1 box of leads for same, 2 pocket ledgers, 1 pocket battery, 1 i wire, 1 plece of string, 1 copy ‘of ening Star, 1 dozen letter envelopes, kage letter heads, 1 package billheads and 1 pair of pincers * OK ok the various | buildings go up promptly at 9 o'clock every morning and remain up until 4 o'clock in * OK “The flags on department the afternoon,” explained the superin- tendent of one of the buildings to a Starre- perter, “and as far as those two hours are concerned they afford an easy rule to tell the time. Tardy clerks keep a cereful tch out for the raising of the flags in the morning, but they give no attention to the lowe-sing of the flags, for they krow that their day's work is done by other neans and take no interest in it. It is very amusing when we go up on top of the building in the morning to see the upturn- ed eyes pointed toward us, for the clerks in their hurry to get in the building before the flag is up for the moment forget that | they have watches, and seem to regard the | raising of the flags as the only means the have of tellin, ‘The flags are flown on all as well as work days, raised on Sun- The h there a flag on the main of pitol, they are not so ticular up there to raise it Promptly a 9 o’cleck In the morning. Of course, d uring public holida: are never and House ends of the C these are never raised high noon, except at rare interval: the hour of meeting of the bo until when flown during a recess, long or short {t fs. s debate on the Hayes-Tilden pre 1 contest the flags were flown with- ming down once for over three week: I r than ever before in th: The life uring cou: of a department way from three weekw to e spring or windy months icularly destructive, though dur- summer months there is but little r on them.” xe ke “I saw a statement yesterday,” remarked an Eckington man who is rather a crank abject of physfology, anatomy and that cur senses do not slumber but that the eyes clos ste goes, then smelling, hear- hygiene, multan first, then ta ing and touch. ber, is first to ai one of the qui! | to come again. says; but I correctness—in one 1 was last spring, just ¢ {had bloomed. Touch, though last to slum- suse, and smell, which is st to go, is the very last That is what the book m a living witness to its in- It stance at least. ter the magno! I had gone down the Potc mac to one of the far-down resorts for and, coming back, there was such wd on the boat I had to take a mat- e floor. It was midnight when I { don’t know when I waked png before I heard anything or hing, or saw anything, or tasted i the odor of magnolias, ® far-off, vague, unce upon a sea of im- sible or vistble, nor pt to the all-per- ing fragrance of the me! ay to be bloom, not tan sense real ¢ penetr i feel the ae I knew whe 4 not account for the magn pams. nat last I awakened fully and sat up, I saw on the table just over my head two ee washbow!s full to the brims with blossoms, which some of ig ebcard after £ had sht with them and water to keep fresh till not say that the sense of le would have been af- s, but I am sure mine the senses to awaken ence of the magnolias. oo A Wise Man, but ced there in I 4 1 in other From Peck. He acknowledges that he knows nothing women.” o I ain't WELCOME of our no hero. BACK. Tist heroes?” i'm a regular.” FOR LOVE OF HER MOTHER The usual Honolulu crowd was down at the dock when the steamship Australia,sev- en days from San Francisco,pulled alongside the pier on a brilliant, balmy afternoon in Januray, 1895. American women, trim, groomed, wholesome to look upon, in sum- mer afternoon costumes, such as happy feminine exiles in the subtropics contrive so prettily and effectively; a few English and a few German women of society, ar- rayed also for steamer day (which is a Honolulu function), but lacking in the eiu- sive distinction and that indefinable “last touch” that characterized the appearance of the American women—these leaned back languorously in their carriages and phae- tons, under the shade of parasols, listening to the lazy, complimentary talk of the lad, lel-enwreathed young business men who combined duty with pleasure in thus waiting for the great steamer to la- boriously slip into her measured berth be- side the pier. The usual groups of silent, cxpectant-eyed Kanaka men stood in the shade of the pier sheds, humble in attitude, chary of words, and yet not sulky—your ordinary Kanaka man is the sweetest-na- tured human animal in all this surly world. Some of the men wore shoulder leis (wreaths of flowers) over their labor-grimed hickory shirts. All of the Kanaka women (there were perhaps fifty in all at the dock) also wore leis in cross-belt wise over their flowing white mother hubbards. In truth, the flower wreaths wer2 everywhere. Staid, middle-aged merchants among the whites wore them about their helmets and straw hats, and all of the white women in car- riages had belts of Hawatian exotics. All of the Kanaka women were in their bare feet. They stood about in little groups, as silent as the men of their race. There was no envy in the glances they directed tcward the female occupants of the car- riages, even if there may have been some wonderment over the lavishness of the American and European women’s costumes. A few of the Kaneka women carried tiny brown babies—silent also. Positively, Kan- aka babies do not cry. No mother of chil- dren will ever belleve this until she has lived somewhere in Hawall. The Kanaka women, young and old, wore the flowing mother hubbard. The young women were of varying degrees of pretti- ness, even of beauty—the countenance of no Kanaka young woman is actually home- ly. The figure of no Kanaka young woman is ever anything but genuinely excellent— the forms of most of them are simply beautiful. One of these Kanaka women at the dock on this brilliant January afternoon was as beautiful in face and form as an empress— in a way of primitiveness, of course. She was clad like the rest of the women of her race. Yet she was stately, even in her bare feet—which were small and perfectly form- ed. She was fully five feet ten inches in height, and the white silk cord with which, unlike the other Kanaka women, she drew her white dress about her waist, empha- sized the splendid. heroic proportions of her figure. Her glistening, raven-black hair hung straight down below her waist. Her features were of the aquiline, classic mold, her skin a dark olive, with a film of rose under her great black eyes. Kaomouna, who had been one of King David Kala: kau flower girls, was a woman such as many a young student, dreaming over a pipe in the quartier Latin, would have given worlds to see—famous painters did see her, and portray her. Kaomouna, surpassingly beautiful,seemed quite unconscious of her beauty on this brilliant January afternoon. The young shipping clerks, hurrying to and fro on the dock, with their pencils behind their ears, stopped suddenly when they caught sight of her, and then stole off behind bales of goods, In order that they might observe her carefully, unobserved themselves. The wo- men in the carriages who had not been long down from the states or from Europe, saw Kaomouna, and asked the women of longer Honolulu residence, “Who is that glorious creat@re?”” Kaomouna, with a very sad face, spoke only an occasional word to one of the Kanaka women. deep cont tone Her voice was a Ito, like the harmonious mono- alms and the sea, heard from a of The Austr st was made fast to the pier, and the pass ers by @ man with his » and thre old little : e girl was the first to catch sight of Kaomouna as she reached the bottom of the gangway. She quickly freed hand from the grasp of her father's an toward Kaomouna with baby words. Kaomouna smiled at the litle girl, but did not offer to take her up. Instead, she folded her arms, looking down at the little pitk-faced child pleasantly. The child hung onto her skirts, and was thus found had taken she raised her eyes to look She gave a start—as, tn- and women did, who first this woman, who had been ulakaua's flower girl. in your whole life see such a perfectly beautiful woman?’ ‘asked the young wife of her husband in a whisper when he came up. ‘‘And Tita seemed to take to her immediately. If we could only have her for a nurse for Tita!” aomouna heard her. “Kaomouna would love to be that,” she replied in a soft Kanaka-accented speech, smiling. Then a look of pain darted across her fac But it may not be—it may not be—" and with her hands at her eyes Kao- mouna turned suddenly and disappeared among the departing men and women of her race. Three months by her mother. When the mothe! the little girl at Kaomoun “Did you later the parents of the little girls—they had come from the states to settle ether jest in Honolulu—-were at the dock to witness, for the first time, the cht in this world—the departu: lepers for the Island of Molok Ki 2 Hou, the leper st out in the stream, and the lepe being carried out to her in barges. ter was bor for the lepers. A lit- through the roped inclosure On it lay a very old Kana- Ka wor hsome in the final stages of the di At the side of the litter walked Kaomouna, still as beautiful as ev with no tear in her eyes. Yet her face was very sad. The parents of the little girl wondered. They spoke to an official of the Hawaiian board of health, who was busy in the task of embarking the lepers. “Surely,” they said, company ‘the lepers? “Who, Kaomouna?” official. “Oh, yes, she does. But it is ber own choice. Kaomouna, you know, has been secreting her old mother, who, as you perceive, is a leper in leprosy’s ad- vanced stage, for a number of years. We always knew there was something myste- rious about Kaomouna—that 1s, we have known it for the past five years. She had made queer visits to a palm hut far over in the Nuuanu valley. Last week we followed her—we felt there was leprosy in it. We found her mother in the hut— Kaomouna had had her tn hiding, trying to save her from Molokat, ever since the disease became evident. Kaomouna 1s not infected in the least—she has been care- ful. But she elects to follow her mother to Molokai, and she will be a leper herself after a while. Extraordinary? Why, not at alll You do not understand the filial devotion of Kanaka women—men, too, for that matter. Such cases are common enough.” The parents of the little girl looked at each other. There were tears in the mother’s eyes. “That is why she folded her arms and would not touch Tita!” she said. “In this world of God, civilized or uncivilized, could there be anything more noble?” All was ready, and the Kilauea Hou, with Kaomouna and her mother on boar slowly abarted down the harbor, the Kai akas on the dock setting up the weird, plaintive death wall. Se Pewter Mugs and Tankards. There seems to be a revival of the pewter ware of fifty years ago, and tankards, mugs and loving cups of this metal are coming into much favor: Pewter tankards are in general use in England, and the trade in them there is a very considerable one. Pewter does not tarnish as easily as silver, nor is it, of course, as expensive, which, taken togethee with the factor of its being a novelty, makes the metal well liked by club committees hunting for tournament prizes. Pewter is composed of an alloy of tin and lead, sometimes with a little antimony and copper; also with an alloy of tin and zinc. ‘The tankards are sometimes made with glass bottoms, a custom which is very general in England. Plates of octagon shape and oval platters made of English pewter are imported by dealers and find a ready sale among those decorating dining rooms in the old English style. Many of these pewter tankards and plates are seen in fashionable music halls, on shelves running around the room about three feet from the ceiling. The English pewter is not polished and this gives it the appearance of age; it is also made into queer old shapes. American pewter, however, is highly polished and re- sembles nickel plate, as every finger print leaves its mark. However, it is easily cleaned by being rubbed with a soft cloth. “she does not ac- replied the health SEEN FRON! THE GALLERY A prosperous-looking man with a fifty- two-inch waistband stopped and looked at the long line of (poys formed before the gallery of one of the local theaters a little before half-past To'clock the other even- ing. “TI used to be No.1, and never worse than No. 10, in that line myself,” said the man. “I've never ehjoyed the theater so much since as I did then. When I was a kid in this town, about the age of those boys in that line, I uged to take in a show once week—on turday night, always. I couldn't afford more’n a quarter a week for theatricald, tor'I was only making two and a half a week carrying bundles. The store that I carried bundles for closed up at 6 o'clock on Saturday night, the same as other nights, and I remember how I used to scramble home and bolt my supper so that I could get down town again to get the best place in the Ine before the gallery door. I'd generally make it by 7 o'clock or a little after, and I don't remem- ber ever getting left on a front seat right on the rail. It used to be as cold as the dickens, standing in that line, sometimes, but that didn’t make any difference. We'd just stamp our feet and crowd closer to- gether, and the cold didn't bother us. Oc- casionally, too, it ‘ud rain hard while we were standing in the line, but that wouldn't cut any ice, either. I never saw the rain storm yet that could break the gallery line up when I was a boy. I don’t know how that is now. “Us boys in front of the Hne could hear the man inside walking toward the door from the inside to open it on the stroke of half-past 7, and then we'd crouch and gather ourselves together for the rush. The man that opened the door had to hustle for his life inside the box office to keep us from running him down and stamping over him. - I always had my quarter ready and pat and tlght in my right hand, and to slap it down on the hox office shelf, get a big pasteboard ticket and dive for the long gallery stairs was about as quick work as I ever did. I'd surely keel over from apo- plexy if I tried anything like that on now. The winding stairs were about a mile high, but I'd take ‘em about four at a clip, and in no time I'd be past the ticket taker at the entrance to the gallery ind falling— literally falling—down the steps to get a seat on the rail. The gallery ‘ud always be about as dark as a dungeon at that early hour, and it was a case of groping to find the aisles in order to fell down the steps to a seat on the rail. “In my left-hand overcoat pocket I gen- erally had a paper of peanuts, and I'd munch on ‘em and watch the galiery fill up. I made it a point to look around a g00d deal In order to make the boys in the back rows jealous of me in my rail seat right on or close to the middle aisle. T! boys In the row behind the rail row would Senerally retaliate on the boys sitting in the rail row by wiping their ruddy shoes on the overcoats of the rail row boys, the overcoats being slung over the backs of the seats and therefore offeriig tempting opportunities for that kdnd of hing. “Along toward 8 o'clock the boys in the gallery would begin to stamp ind whistle, the fallacious idea being that the stamping and whistling would bring the Il ghts up and the orchestra out quicker. I nozice that the gallery boys don't do this an} more—but, then, the gallery boys don't hev much fun as we used to have, I guess. When we smelt a strong odor of gas, we knew that the big chandelier hanging front the ceiling Was going to suddenly light itself—that is, that the electric current (it w Wonderful idea then) was going to light the chandelier jets They had to turn the gas on first, hence the premonitory smell. When one of the orghestra men ‘ud pop his head out of the little dgor underneath the stage we'd all see him. at once and give him a great sendoff.; “And how L used to enjoy a show in those days! How Lvusedito hate the villain with his waxed black mustache and his shiny plug hat! How I used to feel for the hero- ine when she'd appear with her shrinking little boy in the snowstorm, with a torn, red-hooded cloak |i thrown over her shoulders,-and n dazzling diamond rings on the. fingers of both her hands How I did think the hero was the r thing when he said to her, ‘I love you bet- ter than I dome life!’ How I used to thrill When the heraine, én reply to the top-coated Villain’s overtures,;would twist around and say to him. ‘Ragsiage royal talment when worn for virtue's sake!" And didn't the struggle on the eltff between the hero and villain for the possession of the knife and the forged will make my spine chill! And all the rest—all the rest. “If the growing boy only knew what he’s missing by growing!” 2 TO HIS LAST. Unfair to Judge by the Amount a Man Knows. Two men were talking. “What I admire among our artisan class, sald one with the air of a superior person, ‘4s a ittle broader knowledge than is de- fined by the mere walls of his shop. Now, I have In mind two shoemakers whom I see occasionally, as they are both tenants of mine. Both of them are prompt, indus- trious, honest men, but one is as ignorant as he can be even about the details of his own trade. Why, I asked him the other day where choe pegs were made, and of what wood and he hasn’t the least idea, and I had to tell him. On the contrary, the other one, not only knew that much, but was up on the history of shoes and their material and manufacture, and he interested me for half an hour by a most instructive talk on his occupation. There is a vast difference, I think, between two men situated as those two are, and it 1s greatly to the eredit of one that he ac- quires knowledge, not because it is abso- lutely necessary, but because of his desire to broaden and get something more than what may dangle at a waxend or spread itself over a side of sole leather. Don't you think as I do?” “Um-er,” hesitated the other man, “I know your two shoemakers and have had work done by both of them, and I notice another difference that you probably over- looked.” “I knew you would,” responded the first man, rubbing his hands with pleasure. “Yes,” continued the other, “the man who only knows how to make shoes can makes shoes and the other chap can't. There's something in that, you know, to the man who must wear them." SSS OF MORE EFFICACY. A Case Where Tar Was More Effica- cious Than Prayer. “On one occasion,” said a clergyman from Kentucky, who pays Washington at least two visfis a year, “I was making a circuit of some preaching places in the mountains, and at one of thee@ appoint- ments I stayed at the house of Sister Run- nels—Reynolds, as you might call her name—who wWés @ most exemplary Chris- tian woman, jHef greatest earthly burden was an utterly worthless husband, who had tried her patience sorely for many years and whém site had not yet been per- sueded to turh out of her heart and home. He was not vistble when I arrived, and when he did ,nét appear for a day I casu- ally asked her where John was. ‘He's been off fer three days now, down at the grocery, atid goodness knows what he's up to,’ she sald, half in sorrow and half in anger,, “ ‘Has he ever been away so long as this?’ I asked, symypathigzingly. “"No. He genet‘Jy gits back home afore night.’ eeen ““Perhaps this is a turning point for him, and when he.comes back he will see the error of hi bis) and turn from them.’ “ ‘Hardly, 1 reckon,’ she said, with a hopeless shake of her head. “‘Oh, don’t be despondent,’ I insisted, en- couragingly. ‘He may be saved yet.’ Let us pray for him.’ “Her face flushed, and she arose and watked angrily toward toward the door. ““Pra'r won't phase him,’ she blazed out. ‘Nothin’ll tetch him but tar an’ feathers, and when he gits back here that’s what he'll git, and when I'm done with him ana got him turned out in the road fer him to go his way and me mine, you won't’ want to waste no pra’r on him, shore. I’m done with him, and he ain't gdin’ to fergit it very soon, neither.’ ” —_>—_ Cam’t Be So Very Dangerous, From Puck. - Maude Deering—“I’m awfully afraid of bulls!” ‘ DeWitte—“Well, you needn't be. 7 Why, Spanfards fight them, and kill them, tool” BACK FROM THE KLONDIKE “About @ month ago,” said a diamond drummer, who stopped in Washington on his way from the Pacific slope to his New York headquarters a couple of days ago, “T went down from Portland, Ore., to San Francisco via the Coast Lire. When the train left Portland there was only one oc- cupant of the sleeper with me. He was a man of middle height, with broad shoul- ders, slightly stocped, a finely shaped head, and large, roughened hards. He had, too, a pair of deep-set brown eyes, with some shrewd crow’s feet slanting away from them at the sides. He was a man, I should judge, of about forty-two years of age, and he wore an ordinary suit of dark store elcthes, a make-up tle and a somewhat worn soft black hat. His linen was scrupulous- ly neat and clean. Before I got into con- versation vith him, he struck me as, say a prosperous proprietor of a brick yard, who bad himself known the meaning of labor with the hands, or a well-to-do paving contractor, or something like that. “He struck me as being a rather diffident man, and as, owing to the nature of my business, I am a naturally loquacious sort of chap, I myself started the traveling ac- qvaintanceship with him. He was, at the outset, the only other passenger with me, , and Thad to talk with somebo¢ ned over the seat—my fellow-pas- senger sat directly in front of me—and of- fered him my flask. He turned around in his seat and smilingly declined my invita- tion to take a drink out of it. The man had a peculiar sort of winning smile. ““I find that I'm not quite so young a man as I used to be,’ he said, ‘and a very little liquor uses me up. For this reason I had to give it up a while back—not that I have any sort of prejudice against it. How- ever, I smoke a great deal more than L ought to, and I was just about to go to the smoking compartment for a cigar.” “Y joined him in the smoking compart- ment for a smoke, and I hadn't been there with him for more than ten minutes be- fore I began to revise my first-thought-out notions concerning him. I began to wonder what manner of man he was. He wasn’t a talker—rather, he was an unusually quiet sort of man, and upon looking back to the experience I rememter that I did most of the talking and he most of the Iistening. But what the mun did say was full of in- telligence, horse sense, humor and an in- cisive, yet not bitter, kind of sarcasm. I have been on the road too long to believe in this business of exchanging cards with chance traveling companions, and appar- ently my sleeper mate had the same idea, for neither of us made any sort of attempt to learn the identity of the other. We just smoked and talked away, and, for my part, I enjoyed the man’s common sense, shrewd way of handling subjects—rather a quaint way he had, in fact, and no flubdub what- soever. “We talked upon general matters, espe- clally upon the future of the Pacifle coas On this subject he displayed a rather inti- mate knowledge. and in treating of the mining possibilities of the country he ap- peared to be especially at home. ‘Did you ever do any gold mining your- I happened to ask him. Yes, a little,” he replied, and he went king of the worked-out placers al ¢ California rivers. “I noticed that when we got to talking of new ects of the day he seemed to lag somewhat. Finatly I asked him if he had read of before. the pape: Tell me “In faci ‘way behind on the news of the da: it struck me as rather strange that a man of his unusual inte!'- «ence should permit himself to thus lose track of what was going on in the world. [ thought that he must be a very busy uch and such a thing about a week he replied. ‘I haven't been reading ately. I've been too busy. man indeed. “A few hours out of Portland > talka- tive young chap got on at one of the way ations. He was a son of the big m nt of his town, we gained from his taik—he joined us immediately in the smok- ing compartment and drifted into the eon- versation—and he had some strong ide: about matters. Two days before a big steamer load of Klondike miners had cr- rived at Portland from Skaguay. Only a few of the goldseekers had brought any dust back, and most of the min had very bitter hard-luck tales. young man mentioned this. I think,” said he, ‘that any man of sound health who's capable of earning a ollac a day in the country and climaie he was bern in, and who goes jamming to the Kiondike, with five to one ag1 etting back alive, and a hund inst his returning with the health started ont with, just for the sake of huntiag a Ittle vellow dust, is 4 fool.” “My friend in the store clothes siniled in a reflective kind of way. “I don't Know but what you're right, son, said he. I enjoyed the companionship of the quiet man in the smoking compartment and in the dining car al! the way down to San Francisco. It's always a satisfaction to me to meet and talk with a genuine man— there seem te be so few of ‘em nowadays. “He was going to the Palace Hotel in ‘Frisco, and so was I. We got tnto the Palace "bus together when the train pullea into San Franc He walked up to the desk of the hotel a bit ahead of me, and the cheerful way with which the hotel clerk his cver grabbed his hand, before he had a chance to register, was a eautior. Why, Mr. Ladue, i'm certainly glad to see you looking so tip-top, to my quiet truveling comp: 0 time a knot of swell-! en as- sembled around him and c off to the middle of the rotunda of the hotel. “*Ladue? Ladue? I to the hotel rk when I registered. ‘Seems to me I've heard that name somewhere.’ aid the clerk and in ““Well, if you haven't se2n it,’ said the clerk to me, ‘you've beea camping out, that's all. That's Joe L: *he man who Di tically found the Klondike, and s only got a dozen or so of millions. He cust got back to Portiand from Alaska a few days ago.” ——— oe NOT A SIMILAR CASE. A Horse Thief Need Expect No Mercy in Texas, The old-fashioned Texan had by some strange apportioning of fate been put in a room at a crowded hotel with a divinity student from an eastern college, and they soon estabilshed a conversational footing between themselves, though the Texan couldn’t quite understané why the young men wouldn't “take a nip for a night cap.” Before they slept, the talk turned upon the customs and morals of Texas, as exem- plified in lynching, the young man arguing against it. “Gee whiz, you don’t reckon we oughtn't to hang a hoss thief, do you?” the Texan exclaimed in tones of horror, but without profanity, out of deference to the character of the other side. “Most assuredly not.” “But what ought we do with him? Not let him git loose?” “Let the law take its coarse. ‘Mebbe it'll miss fire and the cuss’ll git away.” “That is not your fault. If the law says he fs guiltless you must accept the decision and forgive the sinner.” “They ain't no authority fer that, ts thar?” “The Bible.” “Thar's nothin’ thar that covers the ground.” “Oh, yes, my friend, warming in his zeal the cross was forgiven.” For some reason the Texan seemed to choke a moment, till he caught his voice again. AW, here, young feller,”’ he exclaimed in a tone of expostulation; “that wasn’t no hoss thief,” and the Texan was so serious about it that the young man had to laugh in spite of himself. ——__+— Consolation, (Copyright, 1898, Life Publishing Company.) said the student, ‘even the thief on “An’ ter tink how I kicked wen me mudder made me put on de old man’s cast- off pants! Hully gee! but dat kid's worse off'n I am!” BY PHILANDER, JOHNSON An Oversig! I like to read "bout otaers do; These quiet, unassumin’ chaps that’s gritty through an’ through; heroes, an’ I reckon I'm deeply interested in the very smallest fe I like to see their picters an’ to know jes’, how they act. But there is one whose name, somehow, 1 never see in print. That's why I take my a little hint. “Mongst al! the hero-literature that nowa- days appears, I've never scen no pieces yet pen in hand to drop bout Hezekiah Meers. Let every man have that’s comin’ to him. That's my way. I allus was a stickler fur full measure an’ tair play The men that faced the went to meet the foe— Their country knows an’ loves ‘em, an’ it ought to tell 'em so. while you place such laurels where they worthily belong, Perhaps there is a few among the great un- noticed throng That ought to have a shout or two, while passin’ "round the cheers. bullets as they But, I often y “hurrah,” I do, fur Hezekiah Meers. He'd been a soldier once. He pined to be the He could start in as a ca you st boy had beea Right sickly. An’ his wife wa’n’t strong. He ‘lowed they couldn’t part. I seen the tear drops trickle as he watched the comp’ny start But he tended to the old place that 'ud sure have gone to rack a stranger had been trusted with the work till he came back. An’ it really seems to me that enterprise is in. But nis iu in arrears ’ Unless it gets some items in ‘bout Hezekiah Meers. * x * A Wish Gratified. “My son,” said the old gentleman who very properly objects to slang, “I have veen thinking over your request this morn- irg, and I am inclined to think I may have been a little hasty in my decision.’ “Thank you, governor.” “I believe in clearly understanding a before reopening it. Now, as I rem the conversation, your call at tho office was prompted by a desire to ‘raise the dcugh.’” “Yes; that is to say-— “Never mind. I ask for no explanations. I do not seek to inquire into all the whims of youth. I accept them as I wild flow ong the grain. The s, but they are cheering to contem- . There are many things I do not un- derstand, among them being golf, lawn tennis and foot ball. But I do not assume to interfere with your innocent diversion any more than I undertake to kk. of the current fad. experiments w p track lf you want to give up the chafing dish and eo to work with an oven, J have no objection to offer, nor will I let the mere matter of expense stand in your way. I was rath busy when you spoke to me about raising the dough this morning. I know that I poke shortly; but m rt is i right place. and I am too generous to deny your slightest boy, is two cents. cake of y reque . Her Go and buy yor * * A Doubtful Reformation. “I feel like a man who had escaped from bondage,” exclaimed the commuter, who had slid deftly past the bundies he had piled on the car seat, without upsetting one of them. “I feel like a man who had had an aching tooth pulled or who had had nexpected legacy just as a note came “What's the matter?” inquired the neigh- bor. ve conquered my besetting weakness.” didn’t know you had any.” “Yes. It was superstition. I'd worry about whether I saw the new moon over my left shoulder, and if I saw a horse shoe I'd drop everything I was carrying in order to pick it up. I'd get my fest wet and catch cold hunting four-leaf clovers, and turn pale if L forgot myself so far as to trim my finger nails on Friday “And you gave them all up?” “Yes, sir.” wee there’s no doubt you are better oft.” “I should say so. Why, I've noticed the difference already. I was absolutely com- pelled to call a halt. I noticed that every time I paid any attention to these super- stitions I had bad luck.” * * * Apprehension. Where are the Indian summer days That every year draw near us? The blushing branch; the golden haze ‘That autumn gave to cheer us. The leaf that lingered on the bough To glow with frosty magic Is crisp and yellow even now. Its life was brief and tragic. "Neath sullen clouds of somber gray, Which sunlight scarce can sever, The mocking crow pursues his way And cries “’Tis gone forever." ‘We've chased away poor Lo. And we Rejoice not, but grow glummer. We'd better call him back if he Will bring along eg summer. * % Causes of War. “Did you know that the Wiggins family and the Waggins family are no longer on speaking terms?” said the women who had just run in for a few minutes to be neigh- borly and sociable. No,” answered the hostess. “What was it about?” “The same old foolish story. Their chil- dren fell out and grew impertinent, and then the parents took sides, and the first thing any one knew there was a general misunderstanding.” “How foolish! I never could see why people didn’t have more intelligence than ings. By the ast week?” vt that new star, simply grand?” way Gerald M ns. can’t say I th 1 ixgins Not think much of , f am fr ) Say ’ lever knew what act ng was till i Mis voice is so melodious and r: e. EEA the way he walks is so graceful that I don’t see how anybody that is cultured could help admiring him.” Perhaps he’s to the liking of some fp ple,” was the rather icy answer, “but I never cared much for matinee actors who had women standing on the curbstone to see them come out after the show was over.” “I never did such a thing.” ‘Oh, I know you didn’t; at least I never heard of it. But you know a great many do. Did observe the work of Mr. Ham- iton Fatz? He is my ideal of an act He has so much repose. There is never any suggestion of self-consciousness in what he does, and he fsn't alw to impress you with his personal beauty 8 a perfect clown!” ‘Can it be possible that you are referring to Mr. Hamilton Fatz in such language?” inquired the hostess, who was getting red in the face. “Yes,” answered the visitor, clutching her tighter. “And I can understand Gerald McStiggins 1s not more appre- ted when public taste fs so impaired that 2 can be found to run after a comic 1 like Mr. Fatz.” came the query subdued volume but terrible intensity; “but did I understand you to say ‘run after? ” m sure I don't know whether you un- tand me to say it or not. After the opinions hears expressed it's difficult to in tones of know what some people understand and what they doa’t They were both standing in the middle of the floor. One held the parasol w grasp which threatened to break its ribs and the other was nervously pulling a lace handkerchief into tatters. Just then the host husband entered. “What's the matter?” he exclaimed. “You seem excited.” just telling me that the Wagginses had quar- “Yes. I'd heard of it. It was about their children. Wasn't it foolish?” And both women replied at onc fectly absurd ABOUT PEANUTS. Popularity Became After the Civil War, “The American people are evidently v portial to peanuts,” remarked a large pea- Their General nut planter in Virginia to the writer re- cently, “for there are nearly 4,000,000 bush- els of them consumed In the United 8 annually. Befor: civil war the pea was only a holiday luxury to the major of the people living in the north, the day when the circus was in town, during the country fair and the great and glorious ourth of July being the prinetpal oc sions that the popular yearning for the was in any Measure Sati The produ then amounted to barely 500,000 bushels a year. At the close of the war when the sol- diers returned north thousands of them had cultivated such a hking for the nut, wh they had often pulled from the h ground and roasted at while in ginia, Tennessec Carolina, t the crop then raised in states did | begin to ply the demand. Wideaw ak ers saw the point, and small gar ches where pean been grow is were s ndoned for t today Virgini a are growing nuts a year—a re: North Ca ~) bushels of peas almost entirely to the civil war and the habit the federal troops contracted of eating large q 5 ties of the nuts. Naturally, the returned soldiers’ demand for peanuts placed them hin reach of the rural population in the north, and the nut soon ceased to be a holis day luxury. When the war broke peanuts consumed in rafed in North Carolina Were also imported from Afr of inferior quality. In fac bellum peanuts were poor « the nuts grewn toda Buc for the nuts in recent yee the effect of improving the product or increasing its y extent. Virginia and Tenn: woke right up under the increa and improved cultivation has pro nut, especiatly in Virginia, that is perfect as it cam be. “I don’t suppose there are many people who know that the peanut came to thie country with the first cargo of slaves that out most of the country wera >mpare » demand h Carolin J to any grea however, demand, ae se were landed on our shores. [t is a native of Africa, and in {ts original state full of grease almost as e@ Dit of pork. Cultiva- dc tion of soil have greatly nee re duced the oleaginous quality of the although the N Carolina variety enough grease yet to tind a ready sale in France, where it joins its Afciean ancestor and cottonseed in suppiying not a little of the olive oil we find in the restaurants and groceries. Norfolk,Va., is the grent- nut center in the world, and handles 11.000 bags, or 8,000,000 bushels. “It is a pretty sight to see a peanut plan- tation when the vines are m blossom. The blossoms are a bright yellow and the vines are a vivid green. As soon as the blossom appears a fine branch forms on the vine and shoots down into the ground. The peas, as the nuts are called on the plante- tou, form on the shoot beneatii the ground, like potatoes. When the crop is gathered in October the vine 1s ploughed up, the nuts hag to the roots. Vines and all are piled in cocks in the field, and in twen- ty days the nuts are ready to be pulled off, placed in bags and taken to the facto § There they are cleansed of dirt, assorted, polished in revolving cylinders and put in- to bags ready for the marke’ — + Spoke Behind Nets. From the London Mail. During the recent general elections in New South Wales, aged eggs, over-ripe vegetables and bombs of flour were thrown at'the candidates with such abnormal 1ib- erality as to interfere considerably with the addresses of the speakers. To stop or lessen this unappreciated punctuation of a candi- date’s speech, an ordinary poultry netting, erected between the speakers’ platform and their audiences, proved an effective egg and turnip catcher. The pet target of the rough-and-ready marksmen was the premier of the colony, Mr. George Houston Reid, who attended the jubilee festivities of last year, and was made a privy councillor at their close. ‘This gentleman at the end of at least two meetings of his constituents had to be scraped down by his friends to remove the Geposits of eggs that had long passed the edible stage,