Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, September 18, 1887, Page 11

- —= GOING OUT OF BUSINE To Retire from the Business. BEAUTIES OF THE CITY PARIS A Bee Correspondent’s Experiences in the Great Metroplis of Fashion, TWO CAR LOADS OF AMERICANS The Appropriate Circumstances Un- der Which “America” and “God 8ave the Qneen Were Touch- ingly Rendered. Brussers, August 206.—[Correspond- ence of the BEe.]—It is ashame that I could not have written this letter in Paris, as 1 intenaed to do. Hot weather, lack of time and the many attractions of the city are my excuses, and they cer- tainly are acceytable ones, for a harder week's work I never did in my hife. To see Paris in & week one must hustle. To be sure we did not see everything, but we saw enough to make us thoroughly tired of anything that looked Parisian. Our first impressions of the city were unpleasant. Driving from the depot in a muggy old fiacre, and gazing now and then down the broad avenues, we were surprised at the sameness of their ap- pearance. We struggled with this im- pression of monotony for several days, but were at last obliged to give up and admit that Paris was a most beautiful city. For various reasons, one of which was to get soma idea of Parisian student life, we took lodgings in the southwestern part of the city, in the midst of what is known as the Latin quarter, where the university students live. As our landlady told us, it was a pretty lively quarter, and in our opinion it was one not very well ealculated for the development ot philo- sophic minds. During our stay, students and ew®ryone else seemed to be having a continuous holiday. Every day, from morning to night and from night to morning, the streets were crowded with people, many of whom were sitting in cafes whose tables extended into ‘the streets, while others thronged noisily to end fro, sln%lm{ songs and having a good time generally. Parisians live ON THE STREETS rather than in their houses. In the long warm days of summer buildings are almost deserted and the people pass the time under the shadeof trees, with which most of the streets are well lined. The daily habits of the Frenchman are pecu- har, as you all know. He retires late, and as amatter of course rises late. His break- fast, which is invariably taken in his room, consists of rollsand a cup of coffee with cognac—a very light meal, you notice, compared with- un American breakfast. '}'hen at any time from 10 to Yo'clock he takes a second meal, which he calls a dejeuner, consistingof a steak or chop with vegetables and wine. Again from 6 to 8in the evening he takee his dinner. an eluborate affair of man courses of highly seasoned food an plenty of good wine. The dinner is the crowning meal of the day, and at that time the street cafes and restaurants are all crowded, giving the stranger a tine opportunity to study the character of the peopie. Grape dulue flows freely at Parisian cafes, and the number of those who "'tarry long at the wine” strikes a temperate American as something ap- palling. Men, women and children, rich and poor alike, drink wine all their lives and are taught to look upon it as a part, aund a big part, of thewr daily food. In spite of all this thereis very little drunk- enness on the streets of Paris. One sees less trouble and fewer street brawls there in & week than he sees in London in one night Parisians are energetic, indus- trious, intellectual and polite, and in spite of all their well-known' faults are a good class of people to get along with, The Kgreat amount of DRINKING DONE IN PARIS, and in fact all Europe, has set me to thinking whether the temperance move- ment will ever got a footkold here, Such a thing seems really impossible at pres- ent, and, considering the temperament of the people, I'should say that the inhabi- tants of the vast wine-growing districts of Europe would continue forever to :g‘li]nk the products of their own vine-clad 1ils, Many of you have seen, and all of you have read of, the sights of this most in- teresting city; its nJlaces and parks; its fine streets and buadings; its wonderful Louvre and Tuileries; its Notre Dame, Invalides and Luxembourg; thé great Bois de Boulogne; the magnificent Are de Triomphe and the winding Seine. One book eaunot deseribe nor one short letter enumerate the many objects of in- terest in Paris. To appreciate her art galleries one must be acquainted witn the genius of ages, and to know her streets and places one must read the bloody seenes of the revelution and the reign of terror. For most tourists the Louvre is the greatest attraction of Paris; so it was for me, and I spent as much time there as i all other |l]u~c~1 together. The pleasure of rumbling through its long galleries and gazing at the world of arl-treasure which they contain, is too great to be de- seribed. 'Ihe collection of paintings and sculpture, the greatest in the world, is as extensive &s it is chuice, and one could not well take s better lesson in the fine arts than to sce it 1t must be a pleasure tc live in a city where art is so well appr ed and su well patrogyzed as in Paris. 1ean im- agine how*much those people enjoy life who live " retirement in those peaceful villas along the Seine within sione’s throw of the Louvre, and whe \Vah ¥ ¢ast Window. luoks out upon the | BCLer THE OMAHA DAILY BEE: SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 1887.~TWELVE PAGES. WITLL QUIT FOR GOOD. New York DryGoods StoreClosing OutSale ENTIRE STOCK OF DRY GOODS AT SLAUGHTER PRICES Everything Must Go. - Ladies, Do Not Miss This giant towers of Notre Dame. A short evening's walk takes them past the cham.- ber of deptties, over tho beantiful Place de la Concorde to the famous Elysian Eields and Palace of Industry. 1f my lot were cast in such a place how often I should drive out to the HOTFL DES INVALIDE: with its magnificent dome over Napo- eon’s tomb, on_ through the Bois de Boulogne, the H Park of Pars, and up to the Are de Triomphe, the grandest triumphal arch in the wocld, Then there is the finely proportioned Madeleine, whose graceful columns pl the ot every visitor, and near it, at the head of the Rue de L'Opera, rises the magniticent facade of the Opera house, second to none in the world in point of size and architectural beauty. Here, too, the shining helmets of the National Horse guards, which seem a part of the opera, show that the institution is sup- plied with cash from the vaults of the ‘rench bourse. There are dozens of Americans in Paris this summer. About two car-loads of us happened to get together on a trip down to the palace and gardens of Ver- sailles. The day was perfect, and about twenty-five of ‘‘the boys' got into the “imperiales' or roof seats of the railway carriage. Perhaps we didn't enjoy that trip! And perhaps the woods along the way didn't ring with good old American songs and cheers for the red, white and blue! At Versvilles we were joined by A PARTY OF ENGLISHME and on the way back to Paris, after ex- changing v: us_choral compliments, we all joined in singing ‘*America” and “God Save the Queen.” Surely the English-speaking _nations made them- selves heard in France for once. But enough of Paris. The weather was hot during our stay there, and we were glad lofiul away. few hours’ ride tock us northwest nto Brussels, the capital of Belgium, It took us some time to decide to visit Brus- sels, but we are now very glad we aid. 1 should advise every tourist whocan pos- sibly spare the time not to miss this fine old city. We were in need of rest, and therefore went to the Hotel de Hollande, which we were told was the quietest place in the city. This we have found to be true, and a cosier, cleaner and alto- gether more delightful hotel I never tried. Bruss 1ik many other European citie msists of an upper and lower town. The apper part contains the resi- dence of the king and the mansions of the nobles and aristocracy, and is in every way a model place of residence. On lgxis physically and socially elevated plane about twenty thousand educated and refined Belgians live in peacefui re- tirement. They are more temperate than Purisians, more domestic than English- men and more quiet than Americans; very fond of the good things of life, but not given to vain and empty show. They are near enough to all the great Euro- pean centres of art and learning to be under their ennobling infiuence, yet far enough away to escape their vice and degradation. Brussels has its own artists and musicians, its own churches, palaces, museums, galleries and gardens, which compare well with those of her more pretentious neighbors, while her ROYAL OPERA has a stock company of high repute. ‘Che princpal industry in the city is manufacture of lace, for which it hs been renowned far upwards of two cen- turies, Tournay carpetsare also made here to a considerabie extent, but Brus- sels carpets are mostly made in England, where they can be “manufactured and furnished to the market at a cheaper rate than here, French is the court language of Bel- gium, and nearly everyone speaxs it, but a great many of the lower classes speak Fiemish, a sentence of which sounds more like a series of half-suppressed grunts than words. Fortunately for us Professor G—-— had an acquaintance in Brussels, Dr. Cohg- nor, physician to the English and Amer- ican legations, and this contributed very much to the enjoyment of our visit. ke doctor drove us through the city and over its splendid boulevards, the sites of ancient fortifications and around to his own palatial home. This gave me an opportunity which I had long wished for, of seeing the interior of an aristocratic Europesn residence. The swallow-tailed concierge who bowed us in first im- pressed e as being very dignified and highly respectful. im( the well-bred air of the concierge seemed to show itselt in all other parts of the house, in the other servants, the dogs, birds, and even in the flowers, which grew in oriental profusion in the vourtyard and sent delicious. odors into every room. The smoking rou where wespent most of the evening a charming apartment, with exquisitely earved doors, o large ornamental marble fireplace, on which rested two slender columns with gilded capitals. The fur- niture, pictures, carpets and all the ap- pointments of the room were in perfect eeping with this handsome fircplace, which was the contre of attraction, and to suy that [ was sorry to forsake a downy srmchair and repair to my own humble lodgings is putting it very mild. Our last evening in Brussels was d. hghtfully spent at a classical concert in the Place Royal, admission to which was fifty francs, or about ten cents, and the next morning we started for Cologne, Franz Sy the . e — Three Stories About Trees, Fifty railroad ties, each eight feet in length and 6x10 inches thick, were cut from one pine tree of Dooly county, Georgin. An apple tree on the premises Joseph F. Plemmer in has a ros that blossomed b It was pure whit of the apple. A cherry tree of the white oxheart variety on the premises of John Capura, of Oroville, ( bore this season 2,800 pounds of fi It 1s eighteen years old is sixty feet high, and is six feet in di of Upper Swamp- engrafted on 1t itifully this season, nd had the fragrance Chance of Rare Bargains. RISEN FROM HIS OWN-ASHES. Henry Villard Once More Secures Influence in Money Circles. NERVOUSNESS OF GREAT MEN A Chinese Theater—The Latest Fad in Saloons—The Liberty Boys—A New Thing in Politics—A Political Salvation Army. Bobs Up Screnely. NEW Yorg,Sept. 14.—[Correspondence of the Bek.)—Henry Villard, like the Phanix, has risen from his own ashes. I don’t suppose that those who knew him best thought that he had gone completely under when his failure was announced a few years ago. He was too young and too strong & man to be knocked out by one sugh blow. When he was supposed to be in retirement in Germany he was laying his plans, and he came back to this country representing a syndicate of wealthy Germans, whose faith in him was as deep as their pocketbooks. Like Brother Fox Mr. Villard laid low until he was ready to jump high, and suddenly he burst upon Wall street and made a pur- chase of $6,000,000 worth of stock in a company of which he had been the pres- dent, and of whichit is believed he will be the president again. Mr. Villard's famous houses in Madison avenue, back of the cathedral, was sold after his failure, Mr. Whitelaw Reid, of the Trib- une, buying ong, and Mr. Roswell Smith, of the Century, anothe Isuppose the next thing Mr. Villard will do will be to build himself a fine house, and Iam al- ready eager to see what it will be like. His first venture was so successful arch- itecturally that Tam interested to see what he will do now that he has had more experience. THE VANDERBILT BOYS, with the exception of the poetic George, are early risers, rapid walkers and ner- vous n their movements, Chauncey M. Depew rushes int. a1s office like a hurri- cane early in the morning, and is con- stantly on the move until he goes home in the evening. Go into any of the re- sorts where prominent New Yorkers take their luncheons, and you will be at once impressed with the fact of their nervous temperament. The brothers of Robert Bonner take their midday meal daily at the Astor house. The moment they drop into their seats a well trained waiter rushes out to the carving table and orders t luncheon with the sup- plementary nark: “Itisfor the Messrs. Bonners; ‘hurry up.”” Robert Bonner himselt is a man of slow movements compared with other New York editors. Stick & pin in him and he would probably turn about with the calmness peculiar to the old school of New Yorkers and ask you what you meant, Try the same ex- periment with James Gordon Bennett, and he would wheel about and offer to give you battle on the spot. Resort to the same artitice with Joseph Pullitzer and he would spring up with rage, turn upon you and probably knock you out in a jiffy. He 13 the most nervous man of nlf New York journalists and walks rap- idly, with his broad shoulders thrown well back. THEATER, As if Mott street were not already suf- ficiently foreign looking, it is now to have a Chinese theater, where a Chinese com- pany, clad in $250,000 worth of costumes, will perform plays five acts long that re- quire a whole evening for cach act. The foreign part of Mott street is not of great extent, but what there is of it looks like the oriental dreams of an opium smoker. One has left the Bowery scarce twenty paces behind when he comes to a great telegraph pole covered up to the height of a man's eyes with brilliant red paper that bristles with Chinese hieroglybphics. Here the news of Chinatown is epitomized Right and left, before and behind. are Chinese shops for the sale of tea and Chinese groceries, for the exchange of money, and doubtless, if the truth was kuown, for the indulgence in opium smoking and fan tan. Idle Chinumen hang about the doors or loll out of the windows' while scores of the same race slowly march the streets. Here a Chirese restaurant, where for 40 cents you are served an elaborate but mysterious meal that ineludes an intoxicant made from rice. Just as you wonder where China- town will end the street turns, and you find yourself in a scarcely less toréign qunarter, whose denizens are all Italians. THE LATEST IN SALOONS, The drinking saloon glaring with tawdry resplendors and aglow with nude art having grown commonplace in ths town, & new fashion in the ornamenta- tion of such places has developed. For some months the thirsty have neied that they sipped a double joy in drinking at an upper Broadway bar where nearly all the furniture is of heavy plate-glass, All this was to have been eclipsed, how- ever, by an_ambitions yendor of Spirits in Ann street, whos r was to have been an aquarium (snakes owitted), and whose windows were to have been dec- orated with living creatures of varions kinds. The consummation of ail this splendor wus either prevented or post- poned by a fire that destroyed 6,000 worth of plate glass and other orna- ments. But the newest thing in saloons is the “‘Silver Dollar,” a drinking place in the heart of the squalid but busy Pol- ish district. Its sign is & gigantic counterfeit presentment of the coin that we all complain of and are all industri- ously after, while specimens of the verit- able coin itself areto be cemented into the floor and screwed to the handles of the beer pumps, 1n all 700 of these illusiye SS= NOTE: Splendid chance for merchants to lease store and buy part of stock and fixtures of the best lo- cated stand in Omalia. Joux H. F. Lenyany & Co, dises will pave the floor and armor-plate various articles of furniture. The pro- Friclur says, philosophically, that. if the heels of customers weag off the faces of the coins he will cheerfully replace the damaged pieces with others fresh from the mint. THE LIBERTY BOYS, We are promised a new thing in poli- tics this fall. A know-nothing fraternity proposes to parade the city after the ashion of the Salvation army, with boy drum corps and perhaps women tambou- rinsts, to gain recruits for the American party. Open-air and indoor meetings will ‘be held at convenient points, and converts on probation will be dragged into the fold and made over into useful members, Itisa ‘‘great scheme,”’ and it may be successful. At any rate, the new American party here says it 1s deter- mined to let no grass grow under i feet, and to have its say in the presiden- tial vear, when the American vote will settle the electoral vote of this state. The political Salvatien army is under the sponsorship of Horace Greeley camp No. 1. Patriotic Order of Liberty Boys, who will be represented,of course, by delegates at the convention to be held in Philadelphia. The order is a secret one, but it has been well named. Tho Liberty Boys of New York were a power intheir day, and their battle with the British soldiery on Golden Hill (John street) antedated Lexington by several years, THE DRY GOODS DISTRICT is now one of the sights of the town. The stores are crammed with buyers, and salesmen, packers, porters, bookkeepers and truckmen are kept on the jump. ‘Lhe lights are not extinguished till a late hour, and then the houses cannot catch up with their orders. The rush of buy- ers and the activity of the army they set busy attending to their wants resemble the stir of a general training. The sidewalks on Thomas, Worth, Leonard, Franklin, White, Walker, Lis- penard and Church streets are covered with heavy boxes. West Broadway at H. B. Claflin & Co.'s ism the same con- dition. The piles of boxes packed with goods is at some points as high as a load of hay. The streets are full of trucks, loading, loaded or unloading. From the elevated railroad the cross streets look like hives of active be THISTLE, B T ACTORS’ AGES. John Gilbert was born at Boston fn 1810, Frank Mayo was born at Boston 1n 1839, fi Burgess was born at Boston in 1840, B, Curtis was born at Detroit in 1851, Catharine Lewis was born in Wales in 1858, Emma Abbott was born at Peoria in 1851, Annie Louise Cary was born in Maine in 842, i grs‘ John Drew was born in England in S18. Eftie Ellsler was born at Philadelphia in 1855, J.'K. Emmet was born at St. Louls in 1841, Rose Eytinge was born at Philadelphia in 83 William J. Fiorence was born at Albany in 31, Clara Morris was born at Cleveland, O,, in 850, : Loulsa Aldriek was born in Ohio in Octo- er 1845, A;Imuu: Hauk was born at New Orleans in o Ri;llld Granger was born In Connecticut in i Kate Klaxton was born at New York in “ltalo Campanini was born at Parma, Italy, in 1846, Milton Nobles was born at Cincinnati in 1847, Maggie Mitchell was born at New York in K32, Charles W. Couldock was born at London in 1815, I"Jnnny Davenport was born at London in 3 l{ose Coghlan was born at Petorboro,Eng., n 18; Etelka Gerster was born at Kassa, Hun- €ary, in 1895, Frank Chanfrau was born at New York in February, 1524, Christine Nilsson was born at Hussaly, Sweden, in 1843, Lillie Langtry was born at St. Helens, Jer- sey, in 1850, Charlotta Crabtree (Lotta) was born at New York in 18 Steele Mackaye was born at Buffalo in De- cember, 1843, rrank C. Bangs was born in Virginia in October, 1537, Tom Keene was born at New York city in October, 1840, John H. Stoddard was born at Yorkshire, England, in 1827 Margaret Mather was born near Toronto in October, 1559, Clara Louise Kellogg was born at Sumter- ville, 8. C., in 1842, Lawrence Barrett was born at V'aterson, J., in April, in 1538, John Lester Wallack was born at New York in January, 1819, William Warren, jr., was born at Philadel- phia in November, i512, Edwin Booth was born at Belair, Baltimore, in Noveuber, 1533, Arthur McKee Rankin was born at Sand- wich, Ont., in February, 1544, Agnes Booth was born in Sydney, New South Wales, 1n October, 1843, Joseph Jefferson (the third) was born at Pliladelphia, in February, 152 —— what is color blind?” asked lit- tle Nell Inability to tell one color from another, dear.” " “Then 1 guess the man that made my geography is color blind, boe- cause he's got Greeuland down painted yel- ow.” near “Mamm R —_— History of Grant’s llIness. New YORK, Sept. 17.—|Special Telegram to the Bre|—Dr. John 8. Douglas, who has been in broken health and fortune since his attendance of General Grant in his last ill- ness, has about completed bis history of the dead general's case, e says his trip last winter did him fno good and though heis somewhat better now there are days when he almost gives up hope. He received 87,000 from the Grant fawily for his medical ser- vices and £5000 whieh Grant requested should be given Lim over and above his medical bills as a token of Lis love and l eetion. THE LOVELY MISS WINSLOW, The Oharming Girl Wao Will be the Beile of the Coming Season. ROSCOE CONKLING'S SISTER. An 0dd Diversion for Young Girls— The Little Church Around the Corner—An Exciting Scene Clara Belle's Letter. NEw York, Sept. 15.—|Correspond- ence of the Ber.]—That small but fa- mous section of New York society known as ‘‘society,” just as though there were no people outside of 1t worthy of high social consideration, always knows every September what girl is going to be the leading belle for the ensuing winter season. She must in every case be a “bud.” That is to say, she must be a debutante in society, and she can 1n no possible event hold sway for a second winter. There is no second term busi- ness about 1t. She must give way to a successor as soon as one season takes away her novelty. Influential matrons seek for these treasures among their rel- atives, for it is n great distinction to chaperoue and be sponsor for what may be denominated the queen of the winter. Miss Winslow will hold the proud and conspicuous position during the ensuing cold weather gayeties. There is no more doubt about it than that the world does move. The question is detinitely settled, and society accepts the choice. Miss Winslow is a fair young girl, and almost a positive beauty. She comes from Al- bany, and is brought to town by Mrs. Townsend Burden, a lady of secured place and many millions. Miss Winslow has already made her debut at Newport, where, like the professional beauties of the stage, she has been exploited in a manner to get her into extended notic: The Duke of Marlborough, whose oflici: record in the British divorce court is un- rivalled, was retused admission to most Newport houses. There were two nota- ble exceptions to the inhospitality. The original and independent Mrs. Paran Stevens favored him with entertain- ment, and has been berated in print for doing so. ‘The other breaker of the Marlborough boycott was Mrs. Town- send Burden, who had him at dinner and who put her debutante, MISS WINSLOW, on his arm for several promenades at public oceasions. That was regarded as a device to bring the lovely and irre- proachable girl into attention, and it succeeded, for it made her discussed widely, without any reflection on her, for whatever blame ~was _expressed lay against the chaperone. You will hear a great deal of Miss Winslow before spring. We are wont to censure actresses for resorting to questionable advertising de- vices of conduct. Every instunce of that sort can, I doubt not, be duplicatea in fashionable life. Miss Dora Webber is quite within the limits of the Astor cir- cle. She is a cousin of the family, 1f T am_not mistaken, and anyhow she is a social associate. She is an out-door maiden, devoted to equestrianism and other Englishy sports, including pigeon shooting.” She can use a rifle with con- siderable skill, and the other day at Cedarhurst I saw her participate in an impromptu match in which she was not at the bottom of a list including half a dozen gentlemen. And she was away ahead of the lot in peculiarity. I don't like the smell of gunpowder, and every puff of smoke from a rifle distressed my nostrils like a coward in battle. But when Miss Webber brought her prett weapon to her delicately shrugged shoul- der, squinted her eye roguishly along the barrel' and pulled the trigger, a delight- ful scent of violet almost overcame the stench of burnt powder. She had mixed powdered perfume with her ammunitio "L always do it,” she explained; *“‘and ever there is another war in this country 1 am going to recommend the practice to the government, so as to avert one of the horrors of carnage.” A ripple of talk in Fifth avenue is caused by a bit of trouble which a tourist belle encountered in the custom house. She was scarched for dutiable artic and the examination was, for some re son or other, extended to her bustle. It is presumed that information had been forwarded on which to act. The ludy haa boasted before her London friends of how she meant to smuggle a lot of lace into New York. She was caught at it, and had to pay duty, narrowly escapin, a confiscation of the articles. It chanced that the scarcher wus none other than Mrs, Margaret Steele, A SISTER OF ROSCOE CONKLING. She 15 a widow without fortu and has been in this pecaliar branch of the public service for ten years, She is as handsome as her distinguished brother, and can rch a gentle smuggler very impress vely. The odd diversion of the week for Fifth ayenue girls has been to go, adven- turously but under proper escort, to the curious little race course of the 'l'urf club, whefe there are seven lups £y mile, and the races are of course furcical. Gambling is the sole purpose, About eight hundred people, all told, were present at the time of the writer's visit. 1t included the very toughest look- ing representatives of low lifein the city Broken down sports, who told and retold the stories of their former great win- nings and losses on race tracks, were in abundance. Young boys whose purses were evidently steained by the half dollar charged for admission were too numer- ous. Cheap looking men of all ages, who might have come from six-dollars-a-week | they were places in stores or from no occupation at all, were the most numerous. And there were about a score of women, most of them elderly. A good many of the men were hopelessly drunk before the third race. Many went broke on the first, al- though the prise of a pool ticket is only two dollars. The women were riistent gamblers on the pseudo events, but it was a cheerful feature that they won at least halt the time. They went through no nonsense of intrusting their bills to white-capped messenger boys, of whom there were none; they did not even give their money to their male friends; they went direc to the pool-sellers, took their places in the lines before the boards and bought their choices ns calmly ns if sccuring dress goods at a down-town store. They were treated with the utmost politeness by all present. No comments, open or concealed, were made upon their actions. The luckiest(?) woman was one about fifty years old— one of the LEAN, QUICK-MOVING WOMEN who do their own housework to save the expensge of a servant, and collect rents from their real estate, or cut off’ coupons from their bonds at the first of every month with unflinching regularity. She never played “'straight,” but bought two tickets for ‘‘place’ on each event. One of these tickets covered the favorite and the other some short horse. Somchow or other it usually happened that she won on both tickets. At the end of a raceshe hastened to a place in the line of winners anxious to cash in, and never conde- scended to lose the dime per ticket for which she might have saved the trouble of waiting by selling it at that reduction to a very accommodating man with a long purse fattened with small bills. ‘This man usually secured about half of the winning tickets, and so made a fair in- come for the day, as no ‘‘place’’ pools sold for less than a hundred, and no “straight’’ less than torty tickets. he Little Church Around the Corner has seen some remarkabie ceremonies in weddings as well as funerals, though a | funeral was its starting point 1n popular- n? No faunly has contributed more liberally to its fame than the Wallacks, It was from this church, some yea 20, that Florence Walluck, sole daughter of the manager’s house and heart, was made the bride of Arthur Sewall. That was a funny wedding. The church was crowded to the doors. The dramatic profession alone filled it, and the large so tingent that patronized Wallac| was out in full force. It was high noon, and the packed throng waited impa- tiently the coming of the bride. A mur- mur of voices, and a halt in the vestibule told that something was wrong. The gallant Lester, prepared to give away his daughter with cheerful alacrity, had got out of his carriage and offered his arm to the festively arrayed Florence, when that young lady stopped: **Where's the music?"” said she. “Come on,” said papa; “‘you are al- ways late. There's your cue. Go on. waiting."” d without music; I was to have a wedding march; IT'S A SHAM I won’t move a step,” stormed the disap- pointed girl, “Oh, ‘l:‘lorry. never mind; plead Sewail, with his mother-in-law on his arm. I shan’t! Florence, do you want to break poor mother's heart?” Wallack. “Well, it's a shame, and 1 protest,” said Florence, as she started through the doors. Spying the leader of her father’s orchestra, Tom Baker, she gave him a dressing when some distance up the aisle. “Pretty thing this, Mr. Baker,” cried the young lx\dfu *You promi to have the full orchestra, and here there's not a—-"" The rest was lost, as Lester rushed her up to the aitar and gave her away as quickly as he could. Whatevi Dr. Houghton said concerring the marriage relation, it is doubtful if ¥lorence Wal. lack heard it. She took mouthful after mouthtul of her bridal bouqu aud showered the petals on her lad il As she left th ncel rail, she took up the subject of her wrongs and vowed it was a case of shumeful neglect that she, of all persons, should be married without go on," wrospective our whimpered Mrs. again, although the oceasion was d, the Wallacks figured in th *hurch Around the Corner. There is no doubt that Lester Wallack loved Actor | Montague truly, and, whe that lamented young muan’s b brought here for burial, Lester was by common consent the chief mourner. He called on his dramat e for proper deportiment, day of summer, and when the church wus reached, there in the broiling sun, outside the door, was a mound covered with violet velvet embroidered in gold, It looked like THE BABY ELEPHANT with his ring trappings on; but for all that it was the aining poor Montague, and the remarkable pall had come from the the Pretty soon Mr, Wallack, who had just arrived from his yacht, got all made up for the part, ana the processlon started into the church, First, Dr. Houghton, then some altar boys, and then thoe ket borne on shoulders, with next the pall-bearers; a little space to give due eficet, and next Mr. Wallack, zing one foot after the other in true melo-drumatic style, fixed, a black borderec chief in one hand, une black glove on, and its mate, with a hat with a weed plume upon 1t, carried in the other, he waus a speetacle of woe, und the sort of one that provoked many a cone; smile. I don't believe anyone that day ever forgot the re business of poor Montagt SINCEre Moarne . But it was ved for a bride lately to suffer a complieation of donts 1 get married after all, in thi e chureh, - The young lady left the h and got ten blocks away when she dis church funny f und cl 1310 and 1312 Farnam St. covered that she had not put on her bri- dal . This was no fool of a veil, either. It was not the regulation square of blonde lnce, but a lovely Brussels net, richly wrought by the nuns in the con- vent of the Sacre Cosur in Montreal. Back went the bride for this gorgeous portion of her raiment. It was tnrown over her in the carriage, and the wed- ding procession again started. ‘L'his time a breath of air produced an inclination to sneeze. The poor bride repressed it, but it escaped at last, and, oh, horror on horror's head! her wiite satin' waist split from belt to shoulder. Here occurred a halt. This time at a little shop where thread and needle were obtained, and the gum‘ng space with difliculty was cov-~ ered, At last, much too late, that unfortu- nate woman reached the church, In stepping nervously from the earriage the lace bottom of AN UNDER PETTICOAT caught on the step, and she felt the fast- ening give way. ery step up tho aisle she could feel that cruel skirt slip, slip, till she feared she would have to step out of it at the very altar. She took a grip on the side, and on she went. During the entire service she glung to it hike grim death. She let go Fotih me mEntity ot her glove off for the ring, and when sbe resumed her hold she felt that it had gained on her. Like Florenee Wallack, she might have been married with the catechism or the churching of women, for all she knew. She nad these though “Will that petticoat bo dropped the aisle, or will I shed it on the sidewalk before the mob us I climb into the ear- ringe? Is it the lawn skirt, with three ruflles of vallenciennes, or is it that little blue embroidered cashmere ma made me wear so [ wouldn't tuke cold " The perspiration started on her pallid brow as she hurriedly made the ro- sponses, and half fainting made her way down the aisles. “Don’t lose dear,” whispere our presence of mind, the young husband, “It’s my petticoat I'm losing,” returned the lady, pettishly. When once in the carriage the senti- mental bridegroom pressed her hand and said: “At last the prize 15 mine." She said the same thing as she kicked the dreadful petticoat under the carriage seat. It was the woolen one. CLARA BELLE. —— q to Be Recoznized. San co Chronic 1 was read- ing a long and learned article written by one of those fellows who think out things, some time ago, on the recogni- tion of merit in this country. Recognize merit! Of course we recognize merit, We can’t helpit. We've got to do it. Merit gets up_and whoops till you do recognizeit. It's like a kid at a dinner table. It howls till it gets the lump of sugar, and then it is quiet till the sugar is gone, Do you suppose we would take any notice of memt ti didn't get up and whoop? True, there are two or three clever peo- ple whose names one very rarely sees in the newspape But they don't amount to much. They do clever work; they i important machines; they make great scientitic discove That's all right, but generally its only wi someboay steals their 1deas and pra i- cally waves them in the face of the pub- lic that their features become manifest and then nobody ever hears of them. This 15 a patent medicine world, my m ters! Itis the man that sells corn plas- ters on the corner of a street from a naptha-lit buggy and not the chiropodist up two flights of stairs that gets the notice. It is the enter- prising ignoramus who does not know that medical science has gone all through his theories and thrown them out into the dust heap, who rushes into print and persuades the m s he must be in ad- vance of his times, The wise old phy- ician sits in hls back office and smiles, astronomer who is begin- es these wonder- stars that proyoke ning ab in ful theories about th arguments among everybody except the men who know anything about it, Itis the new electrician who patents apphca- tions of electricity that were failures a century ago, only he If Gan- thinks nobodv ever tried them, leo had never had his little tronbles the i would publish as a brillinnt seientific discovery that the earth moyes, and some few woule refuse to eredit him with the origin of it. In th old peonle t ¢ rything betore the sve it or gave it to the world. To-day when a fellow simply thinks a thing he can rush into print and be famous be. fore seience or art can prove what an idhot he is, But people get on in the haps, all the hetter for that. their light under a bushel, but they take precious good care the bushel will take fire and burn, An article uppeared in an eastern revie few months ago on an important question. It read like a very world, per- Men nide clever article, and full of valuable cone elusions and information. ! was tailking with & gentleman who is thoroughly fus milinr with the question, but who does not write, I referred to this article and asked him if he had read it, “Yes,” he said, I read it. ‘There's only one objection to it. Al his facts are wrong.'' NEw YOoRK, Sopt, ! Telegram to the Bk, —J. Q. cceive the commission for the o of Henry Ward Beecher, to be erected Brooklyn, The statue will be of bronze on a granite pedestal, ‘The money available is $25,000, but it fs exs peeted eon able more will be raised, Ihe pedestal will be adorned with seenes from leecher’s life, Anaother Capita) Water Famine, WasHINGTON, Sept. 1T.—Another water Jne s upon the greater portion of this used by the third break within a short { 1ine of the water maing which sups poyailat Wuskiuglon north of L stréet,