Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, September 30, 1888, Page 16

LADIES" FINE SHOES Hand Turns. | Hand Welts. A FINE DONGOLA TURN | New York Waukenphast, $4.00. $4.00. our Phicdeghia Turns EoHT _ DONGOLA, In Opera, Mcdium Opera, New York and Common Sense Lasts are the most perfect fitting Turned Shoe we have gver shown you, and now $5.00. “FAURET” Our Own Importation. New Opera Last, with very narrow toe and high heel, fine and elegant, $5.00. Also in a Medium French toe, with medium Common Sense heel, with the SEPTEMBER 30, 1888—SIXTEEN PAGES. NORRIS & WILCOX Invite you all to attend the Sale MENS' SHOES! | our $3.00 Shoe Deptf V' a full | We Of | Mean's $3,00 Calf Shoe, ¢ You should see the Shoe you can bu, of us for $3.OO before deciding to pay more for no be ter. Ca line of James Shoes at the OWEST PRICE SHOR HOUSE IN IN HHAND SEWED WAUKENPHAST: Our sizes are now complete; Tace, Bals and congress, B. C. D. und E. widths, hand made for §5.00, $3.50. We are now selling our $4.00 CONGRESS Tipped and Plain, Calf--Seamless, Our customers that wore them last year will recommend them to you. Now $3.50, $4.00. We have a line of Mens' Iand Sewed CongressShoe Reduced from $5.00 and $6.00 to $4.00a Pair, ~We have all widths and sizes. Thes value, being h o back with kid inside and o AA to widths, The most perfect-fitting Wauk enphast ever shown in Owmaha, and only $5.00. We are Introducing a New Last “The Paris.” It is a straight last with perfectly square toe, long vamp and low heel. Strietly hand-sewed, all widths; as fine material as is shown in the country, and medium price, 5,00, $6.00. $3.00 We are making a success of our £3.00 Department. the value in our $S IXTID SEIOXE A pair of our $3.00 Shoes never fails to give satisfaction. If they should, we make them good to you. We can fit wide or narrow feet, low insteps or high in- steps with §3.00 shoes. We keep these in Opera and Common Se Lasts. _We sell Ladies’ Button Shoes at $1.00 per pair. Also sell the finest French Kid Shoes in America at the lowest possible prices for the quality, and the quali- ties between the above at prices in proportion. TURNS AND WELTS A SPECIALTY. Children’s, Misses’, Youths’ and Boys’ School Shoes. You will be surprised at them in ALSO HAVE A Ladies’ Spring Heel Shoes a specialty. Our shoe stock is now more complete than We want you to call and examine prices, styles, &ec. ever. now you will then know where to come when you do. - OUR MOTTO--“No Fancy Prices.” NORRIS & WILCOX, Mail Orders will receive prompt attention. If you don’t want to buy 1517 Douglas Street LACE BAL For old Mens’ Tenderfeet for 33.50, Worth that much in a week for the comfort you get in them. Wo will be glad to show you our fine )I.\bl) SEWED WORK, and will suit you if we show you. ON THE NEBRASKA PRAIRIES. A Day on the Logan in the Chicken Season. SOME OMAHANS' EXPERIENCE They Are Startled With the Spectacle of the Rising Sun—The Maneu- vers of the Bird Dogs— A Day's Sport. A Chicken Hunt, Colonel J. C. Hoffmayer, of Council Blufts, George Tzschuck, Billy Town- gend and the writer constituted a party of chicken hunters who spent a couple of days last week upon the Indian reser- vation eighty miles north of Omaba. It wasa jolly party, of course, well se- lected, staunch, agglutinatiye and com- patible, with the one pervading deter- mination to have a good time atany cost or hazard. We went via the Omaha & Sioux City road to Bancroft, thence north into the reservation and among the famous Blackbird hills by on. hat journey! It would require the versatile and sciatillating pen of a Mayne Reed to portray it with sufficient vividness to convey even a slight con- ception of its entrancing nature, and it isonly through the hopes of living over again in mcmory those two days that my unambitious pencil is persuaded to even attempt the shabbiest outlining of their glories. It was with the most exhilarating an- ticipation that we turned our backs on theqmle prosaic willage long before daybreak on the morning after our ar- rival. We took an old trail—all there was—after leaving the town, that swerved off from the main road and ied away over the prairie, at first through sparse grow of maple and oak, al- ternating with _dreary barrens and stretches of closely cropped pasturage. In the timber the air was impregnated with the pungent odors of heavy vege- tation, while on the prairie it was min- gled with the richer and more var ed perfume of the late autumn flowers, whose bright, blue, yellow and scarlet taces peeped shyly forth from amidst the buffalo grass and wild strawberry plants, relieving the dreary gloom of & WOnotonous waste. ! A heavy fog was rising from the earth, and for an_hour orso obscured the beauties of a scene that was to later burst forth upon our vision. So far animated pature had been discouragingly scarce, and not a single old cock had been s flushed by the wayside. The discordant sereams of the saucy jay, and the fate- ful caw of the crow, ns his black shape ts across above, have alone broken the silence of the last hour. Finally, however, day began to break, The ash color of the east began to clear into semi-transparent gray, then to gndle into pale yellow., Trees began creep out from the isolated mottes, d & streak of distant mist to crawl along the bluffs. The barren points out more boldly, and the morning of the lark was heard. At this juncture we reached the banks of Logan creek and halted u}wu the crest of an OveN owering bluff for a gaze down the lovely canyon, through which the d | browed liltle stream clove its way, wisting and winding like a water snake L‘u" in the herbage. The waters ywed diffusing, though still sober, 8; here a space of marble gray, there of polish black. As we stood there the edges of the drifting clouds at the zenith are blushing into rose, one long, feathery mass of vaporin the east glows into ruby, burns into gold, and to the wand of sunbeam the misty curtain lifted and there was the instantaneous glitter of the dinmond on all sides. Sunrise upon the prairie! Whata grand and glorious sight! What a scene of mystic and wondrous beauty! A quarter of an hour passed, and the fog seemed to settle again, swallowing the plains and blaffs in its gray glim- mer, but quickly changing again into jewel work under the rays of the sun. For some considerable time there was a quick interweaving of vapor and sun- light. The former would streak the scene, then blue eyes would open in the skfu The_valleys between the rollin hills would glow, darken,and bem\lskeg 1 the mist, and flash again into laugh- ing light. At last the heavy leaden mantle broke into large fragments, and the great jagged masses of clouds kin- dled into gorgeous colors, and a cool breeze poured liquid balm around; each reed and weed and bush shook off its glancing gems like a deer after a bath, while the whole land breathed in fresh- est fragrance. The east fairly gleams with royal crimsons and imperial pur- E\es, and at last, through the vista of ock ground bluffs, striking the awak- ening earth into gladdening light, pours the lustre of the risen sun! “Ivs &zoin’ to bea fine day,” sagely observed Jack, the Jehu,as he gath- ered up the ribbons, preparatory to go- ing ahead, but just as he was about to start, Billy descried a flock of ducks feeding among the reeds close to the lower bank, a few hundred yards down the creek. Three of us, Townsend, Tzschuck and myself seized our guns and ¢ of the wagon, eager for the firs The high grass and weeds were yet heavily laden with dew, and the pre- cautious colonel declined 1o accompany us, remarking that he would hold the dogs. A detour through the dripping vege- tation, a careful sncak, and we were upon the bunk above the ducks, and, pecring over, flushed them, Our guns all cracked atonce, and when the smoke cleared away, wo be- held below us, floating around a little furzy point close to the shore, four ashen breasted, dark winged wood ducks, while a fifth was swimming rap- idly down stream with a broken wing. Ashot from Billy’s pumper laid him over, and gathering up the birds, we returned to the wagon, and resumed our journey. As we traveled on the scene seemed to grow more and more beautiful. The level reaches and bluff sides glowed with gemmed colors, sapphire,emerald, topaz and amethyst, lovely autumnal flowers, that gleamed and glanced everywhere as far as the eye could reach. Then the lights and shades of that boundless domain, the shifting shadows of the clouds, and changing bues of the prairie verdure, is some- thing beyond my powers to doscribe, It was now broad daylight, and we were getting well upinto the country, and upon reaching a more extensive stubble field than any that had yet been passed, the colonel suggested puttin({ out the dogs, and of course we were al more than eager todo so. We had two dogs, Billy's pointer biteh,June, and Queen,a *‘dropper,” and one of the finest chicken dogs in the state, ‘With impatient whimpers = they leaped from the wegon, and like a yel[ow flash Queen whisked off out into the prairie. June looked into our faces a moment with her bright, intelhgeut eye, waving her tail delightedly. Her master again told her to start. She bounded off with an eager whine, then moved in a quick walk, her nose to the ground. After completing a circle she returned and looked up into Billy’s face, as if to say: “‘No chicken here, old man.” She was waved off again, and vaulting the skirt- ing weeds, treading gingerly through the pointed stubbles, searching grassy clumps and weedy caverns, and nosing the ground generally, she made a pic- ture well calculated to stir the blood in the veins of an eager sportsman. Sud- denly,but just as we were again about to climb into the wagon, we noticed a resilient movement on the part of June; then she became as immobile as if she had been hewn from stone, with her dilated nostrils pointing straight toward a thick growth of pucker grass and rag weed. Queen saw our hurried maneuvers, then she caught sight of June’s statu- esque figure,and you ought to have seen her back the little pointer up.’ “Chicken!” admonished the colonel, and of one accord we moved up - behind June. As we came near her she started nervously, then lifting a foot momen- tarily, she advanced a step, crouching lower and lower. **Ho, June! ho, girl!” softly com- manded Billy, and the beautiful animal stood still as death. The noxt moment the birds flushed, and bang! bang! went our eight barrels almost simultaneously, followed by two more quickly successive shots from Billy's pumper. Notwithstanding the favorable opportunity, we grassed but four birds, ail young ones, but big and heavy. Of course, the bird that euch of us covered, was killed, no one missed, no one ever does when several shoot to- gether, While June was rotrieving the dead chicken, Queen had been hied on, and in five minutes later we beheld her rigid, with her head turned round @and aguinst her ide onadead point fully a quarter o to our left. Wo had marked the birds down, but they had all lown over the bluff to our right, aad Queen’s point could only mean another covey. We all ried up to her,advancing cautiously. ser and closer wo got, but Quecn never budging, stood as staunch as staunch could be, with her eyes glaring with a wild eagerness, and her thin nostrils opening and closing in quick succession, as she gulped in the strong scent. It was almost barren where we were, and the colonel said it must be an old rooster. It was then agreed that if this was the case,he alone should shoot. And right he was, for another step for- ward, and whur! whur! whur-r-r-r! and arugged old veteran cock took wing. But 1t was no go. The colonel was uickly onto him,and despite his frantic ight, at the crack of the gun he dove headlong into the sear and yellow buffalo grass, Then we turned our attention to the covey we had jumped. Queen and June galloped ahead and over the bluffs, where they slowed up into a trot, and with heads aloft, and nostrils expanded, they move back- ward and forward, now here and now there, tircless, earnest and enthusiastic. Already they had winded the scattered birds. and we quickly followed in their wake. Suddenly we were delighted to seo June'’s head go _down, and her shm tail switch from side to side in _an ex- cited manner, and her liver and white speckled body moving in and out from among the weeds and grass, slower and slower, until all at once she came to & halt, on a point. Queen, too, ulmost at the same moment, stood her bird, and with a “steady June, steady Queen,” we were after them. Getting 1nto position, we squared our- selves, and Tzschuck strode forward to raise the birds, Billy taking one and I the other, while the colonel held him- self in reserve in case the third or fourth chicken should rise. And well he did, for he and George each got in both barrels, for at the crack of Townsend’s and my gun, five more birds flushed from: the tall grass to our right, and they succeeded in kill- ing threeof them. We spent at least an hour and a half here, and out of a flock of thirteen chickens, the iargest flock we saw while gone, we succeeded in bagging nine. Finally, however, we concluded that we could raise no more, and mounted the wagon and drove on. And thus we spent the day, with vary- ing success, and SO the next, and the final result was forty-one birds. not a big kill to_be sure, but one that was abundantly large enough and per- fectly satisfactory. Of course I could stretch this account out indefinitely, in telling you of our dinner at Jack’s ranch, of 'his half- breed wife, his children, and the In- dian legends they told us; of our con- versation with the Omahas, of our marvelous upset and still more marvel- ous escape from injury; of the rattle snake Billy shot, of the coyotes we saw, and the thousand and one other things we saw and did, but space forbids, and with the statement, that a few more years will see the last of prairie chicken shooting in Nebraska, I will close. SANDY GRISWOLD. ———— Mailing Rattlesnakes. New York World: The mail clerks on the Denver and Rio Grande railroad are going to strike for higher wages unless provided by the government with tin gloves, sheet-iron boots and trousers of c igated copper, There are peculiarities in the mail’ on this route which make its handling uncom- fortable, not to say perilous, Nosooner does a northern citizen settle in New Mexico to v cattle or hoom a mine than he begins to ship horned frogs, taranitulas, red bugs, rattlesnakes and other local produce to the loved ones at home. When these pampered tropical pets get on the train they acquire a wai like und uproarous tendency to chew holes in their thin pasteboard homes and made things red-hot for the pains- taking elerk who has to sort them out, and no bromides or red-ribbon pledge can possibly relieve him. He is clearly responsible for their safe delivery at least to Denver, and the sad spectacle of a mail car whizzing along at forty miles an hour with the employees hang- ing to the bell-rope and the floor lively with an aggravated case of delerium tremens is not infrequent on that route General Vilas should at once interfere — ———— Thousands of ¥ears Saved. Chamber’s Journal: One may get some iden of what railways mean in the saving of time and money to passengers, by taking the caseof London, It is esti- mated that about 500,000 persons, or about one-tenth of the population of the entire area of the metropolis, require to travel to and from their business every day all the year round, If we remem- ber the distances, itis not too much to assume that the railway will economize for each at least two hours in the week —or, say, five days per annum each, This over 500,000 of people means 2,500,000 days---or an economy of 8,300 years of 300 ‘working days each! Sup- the average earnings of these 500,- people to be £100 per annum each: notumhifih an average when we re- member the number of millionaires in- cluded in the total---we shall see a total money saving-—in the sense of time be- ing money-—-of equal to.£830,000 per annum. - And this'is in London alone. GOSSIP OF THE GREEN ROOM. Anecdotes of Actors and Actresser, Plays and Theatres. THEATRICAL NEWS AND GOSSIP. Actors and Their Dress — Favorito Flowers of Actresses—The Late William Warren — Lester Wallack's School Days. Actors and Their Dress. Actors, as a rule, are well-dressed people, writes Nym Crinkle in the Haberdasher. It isa part of their art to know how to dress and when. But 1t is curious to know that actors of u certain grade are more habitual dressers than actresses. Up to a cer- tain in an actor’s career he is apt to be fastidious in coats and trousers, in pub- well as on the stage; but an actress is very apt, with a woman’s superior craft, to keep her best attire for the best place to show it. She isn’t going to be seen in her imported gowns in Broadway, and thus cheapen them,when she can enhance their brilliance by re- serving them for the stage. In fact, un- til the era of expensive costuming, in- troduced by Augustine Daly, about twelve or fifteen years ago,it was rather the rule for the siock actress to appear in publie with a suggestion of being meanly dressed, in order to make a greater contrast when she appeared 1n her role at night and blazed out in un- expected glory. The Favorite Flowers of Actresscs. New York Herald: The flowers that actresses like are as varied as the peo- plo themselves. . Some of these favor- ites of the footlights delight in wearing or carrying bouquets made up of the most rare and costly blooms, while others, either with greater modesty or perchance deeper insight into human nature, affect the simple blossoms of the country, breathing of innocence, simplicity and fragrant green fields. The actress is a good angel of the florist, for, whether the blizzard blows or thd snow flies, she must have her bouquet. Mrs. Langtry, through her Jove for that simple lov flower, is known the world over as “The Lily.” And it is no misnomer. Lilies are always to be found in her room. She wears them. Carries them whenever it 18 possible, and has them embroidered upon her laces and the coverings of her furniture. Mrs. Potter loves the glorious, fra- grant red rose,and great clusters of the jacqueminot and other varieties are alwiys to be found in her apartments. Miss Pauline Hall has a penchant for the great ox-eyed daisy and procures them whenever she can. Miss Marie Jansen prefers the pretty pum?’, both for the beauty of the flower and because its other name is heart’s ease. Pretty Lillian Grubb always hunts in May for the delicate, sweetly scented tralling arbutus, suggestive of snow and purity, Little Laura Moore's heurt is moved to the white pearl rose, be- cause she says they grew wild outside her chamber window when she was a child, Miss Cora Tanner loves the dahlia, and delights in getting posses- sion of the raver Mexican varieties. Lillian Chantore likes nothing half so well as a great bunch of nod‘]inF golden rod, suggestive of the broad fields from the borders of which they sprang. Adele Palma loves the arbutvs, t0o, but %o her it is the delicate edelweiss. Helen Russell dotes on the mignonette, for it means ‘little darling.’and is as ant as it is modest. Dora Gold- te has apple blossoms whenever they are in bloom, and at_other times La France roses. Henrietta Lander takes up the unassuming morning glory and makes of it a lovely bouquet, at other times she loves a red, red rose; Isabelle Evesson like lilies; Marion Manola d lights in violets and lilies of the valle; Mme, Mathide Cottrelly has a penchant for roses of a delicate pink shade, and Aunie Myers wears the forget-me-not. The orchid is Mme. Modjeska’s de- light. although she wears the more readi btainable rose. Maude Harr son lov of all varieties.beca it is her nature to do so. Georgie Don- nin delights in wearing the fragrant Mavrechal Niel ro: Bertha Ricei runs to exotics of all kinds. Addie Cora is always happy with a buncn of tened in her belt, and Ger- trude Griswold, who cares for all kinds, loves best to send them to somebody’s sick room. The Late William Warren. Philadelphia Record: One after an- other the veteran actors whose mimic efforts delighted an earher generation, are jorning the silent majority, and al- ready many of their names are as tradi- tion " to tho play-goer of to-day. No artistic work is less enduring than that of th or, and even in the memory of his_auditors he ean hope to linger only y the persistent practice of eccentric devises or by virtue of individual pecul- i s not_essentially allied to dra- t. Yet the deach of William Warren, at Boston, a few days ago, will command a tribute of respeet and words of praise for a weli-rounded carec There arc few statesmen, poets, scholars, or artists whose death could so profoundly stiv the people among whom this actor’s bulf triumphs were achieved. In his private life no s thun throughout his professional ity and of devotion to his ar which those who shall follow after him may be proud to imitate, His life was full of honovs, und rounded gently to peaceful close—a fiting end for one whose years had passed in ministering to and’ increasing the sums of human happiness and jo Lester Wallack's School Days. Memoirs in & hner’s: s rience on uny stage was atun ishment at Mitcham, in Surrey, ¢ Baron House academy, a fine old man- sion which had become a private school, Colman’s **Heir at Law” was produced immediately before the beginning of the summer holidays, upon an impro- vised stage in the school room, with the English usher as_prompter and general manager. As the son of ‘‘the cel brated Mr. Wallack,” it was felt prope naturally, that I should take part, and 1 was billed for the speech from Home’s tragedy of *‘Douglas”—"My name is Norval”—although I was only ten years of age. Iwas dressed in a red tunic trimmed with fur, white trousers and red shoes, and carried a round wooden shield and a woodon sword painted blue. As for the lines, I suppose I must have ainted them red. llow I spoke them heaven only knows. I only remember thet I never missed a syllable. My next apperrance wis at another school performance given at Brighton, when I was about fifteen yearsold, This was at a seminary kept by a Mr, Allfred, which was then rather celebrated, and the play was “Pizarro.” At that time my uncle, Henry Wallack, was stuge- manager at Covént Garden. Of course all the boys were racking their brains | and ransacking the shops to find what to my uncle, who sent down a lot of splendid properties, a leopard skin robe and all the necessary things for**Rolla.” all of which were of course very much too large for me, particu! 1y the sand= als. I remember nothing of the play, except that it went off with a great deal of npx)l:msc. but I do remember the end was a most undignified one for me, because as I fell dead I fell just exactly where the curtain must come down on me; and when it began to descend, the hoy who played Alonzo, and one_of the soldiers stepped for= ward, and taking me, one by one leg and one by the other, dragged me up the stage, a bit of new ‘‘businoss’ which was greatly appreciated, if I might judge from the ‘“‘roars” in front, MUSICAL AND DRAMATIC, ! 'I'he Lyceum theatre never had a success 80 emphatic as “*Lord Chumly.” “Jim, the Penman,” has passed its performance in New York city. Mme, Albani will begin a brief concert tour in America next February. L‘.WLiI they should wear. My wmother applicd Patti's twenty-four performances at Buee nos Ayres brought in §3i0,573 gross, Tamagno is to be paid for half a dozen per- formances at the San Carlo theatre in anlc’ 1,600 a performance, Margaret Mather has lost her suit against J.M. Hill, and J. M. Hill has lost his suit ugainst Miss Mather. The have both lost and both won, Signor Pel hom . ‘Tho deafness with which ho was f y affhicted has almost entirely disappeared, it is understood. Minnie Hauk sang “Carmen” at Covent garden on the tenth anniversary of its first performance in 1878: it was her 330th appeare ance in the role t which she excels, The death of the famous comedian, William en, of Boston, 50 soon after the death 'k, a place in the which cannot be filled. “The reorganized American Opera company, which has been singing in Philadelphia all o the winter v Hinricks, 1t will be impos oung Hofmann to come to the United States this yea state of his health is such that his o has forbidden him to play in public for a yo Daniel Bandmann don with lots of u y about has returned from Lon- 'y things to d, > is play .oudon Lyceum in and Hyde, Mark Smith has purchased an adaptation of the libre he Adventures of the Caliph,” the reigning successful opera in Denmark., He will prooubly star in the piece next scason. son has adled “A Regular Pix" toire and will play Hugh De Bras. or was a favorite one with Soth- Jefferson's season will begin on October 1 at Pittsbure, Lester Wallack will sleep his last sleep in Woodlawn cemetery, near the resting place of his dau -in-luw, Mrs, Arthur Wallack. © und other mombers of the family 1 at Greenwood cometery. composer, Karl Goldmark, e worked seven years on h n of Sheba.” He expends mount of labor upon ever ant composition, devoting .8 to preliminary studies, ? Miss Mary Howe, the Amcrican soprano | who has been hailed in Europe as l’ulh‘; legitimate successor, sings at thie Worcestel (Mass.) music al which began on Sep: | tember 24. Miss Howo was for two years a} pupil of Prof. 8. Hehrens, of this city. At her last apped ce in Berlin she was called before the curtain a seore of times, and vlhl:j 08t unimy the progranme was finished the audience still remained and persisted in calls for Eck-| hart's “Echo Song,” which it had hea from her on previous occasions. When Miss} Howe and hes friends were fually ailowed( 1o depart fr the opera house she found the greater part of the audience ranged on both Sides of the pathway to the street in the lurge garden outside, With just room enuunh1 for her to pass through, and us she went| thera wove constaut criss of German ! CBravo,” “(io0d-uyes,” “Muy we see again s00n." 7 ! i