The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 25, 1897, Page 27

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, APRIL 25, 1897 DELANCY PEARSON'S REFORM ji. GEORGE DE LANCEY PEAR- SON always paid for his board at Y Mrs. Wilson’s fashionable board- Louse with a bad grace and muttered precations on the scheme of life that ade such a proceeding on his part neces- ury. When the inevitable day on which he was expected and accustomed to un- s purse strings for the benefit of | dlady came with its provoking regularity, De Lancey Pearson was ac- stomed to arise fr his couch in a th would have done credit toa ngry grizzly bear, and invariabiy he 1 & bad day of it from the rising of be sun even unto the going down thereof ntil long thereafter, and all because 140 to pay for the food that kept his soul and body together, and De Lancey, . Wilson would avow, seemed to k that this required a great desl of enance. Every one in the fashionable boarding- Louse where De Larcey Pearson lodged, | tréakfastedand dined knew at breakfast | time whether it was his day to pay beard, | for on that day in the month the man’ temper was simply and unequivocaily vile 1 bis bad bunior was ceriain to show elf before he had been long at table. He carried his i temper on these occ: sions to the office where he was employed. and not be a position to bully any one there, he would spend tne day i the sul After carrying the amount of money necessary to pay his board around with him all day, fondling and smoothing itand counting it as often as business would permit him to, he would go home in the evening and finally miserably capit- ulate and pay the moner into the hands oi his expectant landlady, with many grunts and growlis and mutterings, all to the effect that he was charged an exc ive price for a very poor article of board. Fo ali the utterings and imprecations Mirs, Wiison turned a deaf ear, for Pear- con was “sure pay,” if he did make a fuss and except for this ono short- coming of his he was really a desirable boarder. On each recurring “pavday” Pearson would swear that he would rge his boarding-houseand sind a cheaper piace in- stanter. The e he did this he fright- ened Mrs. Wilson, who tought she was ly going to lose one of her best-paying boarders. But Pearson didn't leave then, = did he the next time that he made the same threat, nor the next, nor the next; and so the landlady got used to his recurring menaces and ceased to pay attention to the Oue payday George went home in a partc and found Mrs. Wisson 1n te: couldn’t believe his eyes. Why landlaay cry? What reason did to shed r Wasn't graspinz wretch, with noth ueeze hard-earned doll pockets of deserving younz m them nothing but a few moutht e bad about it, 1o but om the , giving = of food nothing “What's the matter with asked Pearson, scatbingly. Mrs. Wilson sniffea and snuffled a few moments without replying and then man- ged to gasp out: “The house-owner has sed the—the rent! Then Pearson showed just what s brate he was. He lsughed aloud and pranced round like a jackanapes in his you. sh Raised the rent, has he?’”” he eh? Ho! ho! Glad of il me? Wish he'd ho! Wish he had bear? Wish he had vou know what it is to be in the bandsof # graspingold skinflint, ion't ye? Now it won't be all take and no give with ye, will it? Oh, no! Ho! 10! Got to pay out some of your money w, haven't > and Pearson again ed idiotically the room. il—but I—I've ot raise— he price of bo—hoard,” sobbed Mrs. n, as though her heart were break- nd I—I b t0—to ha—have to do— dou tripled it! tripled it! D'ye Now to 5 What!” shricked Pearson, .as he ut up into the air and came eels and a resounding Raise the price of | You raise the price of board? You—vou—you—you— Oh-h, this is too juch! Raise the price of board! Ha he! Haha! Haha!” And with this mirthless cackle Pearson flopped all of a eap in & big armchair and gazed craz is landlad, Wilson braced up. Mr. ’said she, calmly enough now; lie owner of this house has in ed | rent mat lly. and I w ve to in- Your board ill here- | that he had quitted his place of board and | must seek another. it! Iwon'tpay it! Here, madam, here! Here, take this. It's the pay for last month! I'm no longera boarder of yours, madam! I'm no longer under your roof. Tleave vou! I leave you now, madam!” And, tossing the bank bills he had been foudling all that miserable day into the lap of the landlady, Pearson fled from the | house. . It was probably an hou- later when | George de Lancey Pearson recovered his senses sufliciently to realize that he was rushing aiong the streets with his hands thrust deep into his pockets and his hat | tilted over his eyes, muttering like an | idiot, and generally making a fool of him- selfl. When this disagreeable intelligence tiashed upon him, he stopped’ short, and | taking off nis hat mopped his perspiring forehead, while the “cool evening breeze fanned his fevered brow. “Humph!” grunied Pearson, after a glance around him., Hs had walked all the distance downtown, and was In the vicinity of the office where he was em- ployed—and he was Lungry. Contempla- tion of this latter condition reminded him A vretty task at that hour of the day! He decided he would g0 to a restaurant for dinner and secure a lodging for the night, and postpone look- ing for a permanent place of board until the morrow. There were a number of first-class res- then handing it Pearson, he acked Vell 7 *‘Punch what is required out of it,” said Pearson, loftily, with a wave of his hand. ‘It's a commutation ticket, you know ?'" ‘“‘Commodation —! You pony up 40 cents for this ’ere, then,” said the large young man, as he glanced at Pearson. “But, my friend, I bought that ticket here iast night, and " Pearson began to sxplain, when he was cut short by the man behind the cigar-case. “Blast your ticket and hang where you bonght it] This place has changed hands an’ I am ruuning it, see? An' that paste- board don’t go’ere. You pony up that 40 cents or I’ll call a cop,” and the pimply ace became frightful in its distortion, Thorouchly affrighted by the belligerent attitude of the young man, and even more by visions of a cell in the City Prison, Pearson hastened to “pony up’ the forty cents and leave ihe place. When ke had put =everal blocks between him- self and the Jarge young man De Lancey stopped. He slowly drew from his vest pocket the bit o! pasteboard for which he had paid §8 50, in the name of economy, and razed at it ruefully. “Swin- dled!” he mutiered to himself, finally. Pearson dreaded notoriety more than he loved money. He knew that he might succeed in having some one punished for the fraud perpstrated upon him, but he back unpunched to Iaconically, *W’at | | taurants in the vicinity, but their prices were too high to suit the penurious soul of De Lancey Pearson, and he began to cast about him for & cheap and unpreten- tious place, and finally found one that seemed to be to his liking. 1t was one of those long-named places with tables ranged side of the room and a fly- se end a made-to-order blonde in front, and & blackboard adver- tising “small steak and potatoes 15 cents,” etc., on the sidewalk outside the entrance. able 'k was con of the establishment, and it was this “‘leader” that bt Pearson, Pearson endeavored to make himself believe that he enjoyed the lonely and un- palatable meal, and became so angry with bis inmost self because he was unable to convince it that he was really and truly bappy over Lisescape from the grasping power of Mrs. Wilson, that he determined 10 invest in one of the $10 commutation ised- for sale in a footnote cards of the establishment Here was a chance to economize! the sensible and correct way to live! He wanted to eat what he wanted and only pay for what he ate! Why had he so long neglectsd an opvortunity as this? In contemplating the economy of this mode of exisience Pearson really be- came enthused, and it was with manifest satisfaction that he pocketed the flimsy piecs of pasteboard the blonde girl gave him in exchange for 38 50 in coin. In the conscious pride of the possessor of a $10 commutation meal ticket, Pear- son sailied forth from the restaurant and strolled siowly down the street. He feit s0 salf-complacent and satisfied that he | even invested in a 10-cent cigar. Then it occurred to him that he had other work before'him. He had surrendered hisrooms at Mrs. Wilson’s, and it was incumbent upon him to find other quarters at once and relieve his grasping ex-landiady of the care of his personal possessions as soon as possible. Tiree hours later Pear- son and his belongings were saf sconced in two ‘*furnished rooms” at the | base of Nob Hill. ~Pearson liad secured | the rooms at the modest rental of $3 a | week, and with his commuter’s ticket in his pocket he felt very well satisfied with himseif and with life in genersl and his scheme of domestic economy in particuiar, But the three days tbat followed Pear- son’s departure from Mrs. Wilson’s were iranght with awfal experiences to him. On the evening after his purchase of the | commutation meal ticket Pearson had re- turned to the restaurant where he bought it. He scarcely recognized the place. It looked dingy. The blonde girl who had presided at tine cigar-stand and punchea meal tickets had disappeared, and in her place was a large voung man with a pimply face and a red nose. The white table-linen was gone and the eating-tables were covered with red cloths that haa evidently seen better days. tiThe air and appearance of the whole place was changed ana Pearson would have believed that he had made a mistake had it not been for the signs upon the window. He pulled himself together and taking a seat at table ordered is meal. A slouchy girl served him a cold and sioppy lot of stuff he couldn’t eat. Sick at heart and disgusted Pearson left his unsavory meal almost untasted, and grabbing the check the girl gave him, took it and bLis meal ticket to the large, pimply-face | young man at the cigar-stand. Theyoung son, jumping to his £ man looked over the ticket carefully and te dinner with wine, 40 cents,” | picuously painted on the window | abandoned the idea of doing this as soon {as it suggested itself, and did exactly as | the swindlers figured on their victim's | domg—pocketed his loss and swallowed | his chagrin. | Sore at heart and feeling like a wan- | derer on the face of the earth Pearson | sought his lonely lodeings. No bright fire such as he had been accustomed to find awailing him in his rooms at Mrs. | Wilson’s sparkled and crackled in the 1 the servants had not so much as grate; lighted his gas, and his rooms were dark, cold and cheerless. If such a thing bad bappened o him at Mrs. Wilson'’s Pear- | son would bave torn and snorted about | the house like a’ madman, but a change had come over De Lancey. All bis ob- | Steperousness was gone, and he no longer { had heart left to kick. He sank deject- | edly into an armchair that stood mock- | ingly belore the fireless grate, and gazed | moodily into the bed of cold ashes. ering, hungry and utterly miserable Pear- son finally crept away to bed to be further | chilled by the clammy, unaired sheets. Pearson looked up a new restaurant at which to breakiast the next morning, and found a place be thought exactly to his It was presided over by a widow, and was a marvel of neatness. The cuisine was splendid and the service could not have | been better. Pearson was delighted, and | in the enjoyment of the excellent breal | fast that was served bim he forgot his troubles and his disagreeable experiences ana his heart warmed within him again. | 1s in the Greek cemetery, Shiv- | reinstated in his old quarters and at his | old place at table. And thereafter on each | recurring “pavday”’ Pearson was wont to | reach home a half nourearlier than usual, | when he would repair to *'the office” and with evident saiisfaction drop pieces of gold and silver into the capacious lap of Mrs. Wilson, and he became her model boarder, STRANGEST OF TOMBS. Erected by a RKoumanian Professro Over the Body of His Daughter. Bucharest has perhaps the strangest tomb ever erected in a civilized land. It stands over the embalmed body of Julia Hasden, a young authoress who died six yearsa o. Her father, Professor Hasden, of the University of Bucharest, believes he s able to communicate with his los: ebild. | He sits every day for hours by the side of her coffin, and occasionally surprises his fellow-scientists by graveiy quoting some remark that she has made to him. The tomb is construcied, so it is claimed, in accordunce with plans outlined to the | father by the daughter afier her death. It The structure is of marble. Over the entrance and under the name *Julia Hasden’' is a niche filled with her well-worn schoolbooks. Asone enters heis greeted by strains of upearthly melody. AU the entrancea huge slab of biack marble bearsan inscription which may be translated as follows: *‘Let those who seek not knowledge pass by this grave, but those who fain would learo the secret of life in death descend ! The vault is paved with biack and white marble. Its walls are vt the purest white marble, with inscriptionsin letiers of gol . These, according to Professor Hasden, are remarks culled irom the conversations he has bad witb hisdaughter since her death, Here and tbere are quaint little triangular stools, Close to the stairway stand two handsomely decorated mirrirs, which formerly adorned Julia Hasden's boudoir. At the further end of the vault, behind & white marble balusirade, is an exquisitely carved sarcophagus containinez the body of the young girl. The coffin is so ar- ranged that by drawing back a slide the broken-hearted parents may still gaze on the face of their cbild. Two colored lamps burn continually at either end of the sarcophagus. In the center of the balustrade stands a beautiful bust of the young Roumanian woman. 1t represents beras a handsome, | clever-looking girl, attired in modern | evening dress. A’ white veil isdrawn | | overit to preserve it from the dust, and at the waist nestle a few faded roses, held in place by long satin ribbons that float to the ground. They are the flowers anda | ribbons which Juiia Hasden wore at the | last ball. On the walis hang photographs of her at various ages. One small water color sketch, entitied *'Son Dernier Jour Ter- reste”’ (her last day on earth), represents her tossing on her deathbed, with feverish cheeks and sunken eyes. | On the table to the right liesa large | album, a few books and a biock of black | marble, on which some iines of music are | engraved in gold; the titie tells you they form *‘a melody,” composed by Julia Has- den after her death, and listening to 1 mysterious tones one could almost believe it an echo from spiritiand. The mechanism that prodices the weird music above mentioned 1s apparenily con- | cealed in the table. Visitors are per- mitted to inscribe their namesin the great album, and its pages are full of touch- | | Sovleased was De Lancey with this model | restaurant that he had o luckily, he said | 1o nimself, stumbleda upon, that he | promptly purchased a $6 commutation ticket for $5 when the buxom widow at | the casiier’s desk offered him one. | It waswith the most delizntiulanticipa- | tious that Pearson wended his way to his iittle bijou restaurant for dinner that evenin He wasenthusiestic on the sub- ject of “nis discovery,” as he elected to term the cafe. So pleased was he with it, that he ding-donged its praises into the ears of his fellow clerks ail day and wound up by asking two of them .to.dine with bim at ‘“his discovery” the foliowing Sunday. o it was with a light heart and a hearty appetite that Pearson took his way to the restaurant and—as he jondly beiieved—to dinner. Finaily he reached | the cafe and instantly all his blithe spirits fled. The place was closed and evidently | deserted. The window shades were drawn | and not a glimmer of light came thron gh the crevices from within. A hasp had | been roughly fastened to the doors and they were secured with a padlock. Below this was & slip of paper on which was written the words, **Closed by the Sheriff,” and beneath this was a long lezal docu- went with ali the blanks filled in. 1t was the last straw! Pearson deliber- ately read the legal notice reciting the woes of the buxom widow wao had that morning so nonchalantly sold him a worthless piece of pasieboard for $5. Then he turned and biinked =olemnly at | the electric-light on the street corner for a few minutes, while he seered lost in thought. Then be boarded an untown car | and went to Mrs. Wilson’s. He was clos- eted with his former landlady for a half hour in the cozy littie den she called ““the office.”” What he conlessed to nher, what promises he made and what she saia to him will probably remain locked forever | in their own breasts; but when Pearson came out into the main parlor at the end (of thirty minutes he looked meek but | serenely happy, and that night ne was | 1l ing expressions of sympathy in every lan- guage. There is nothing grewsome in this re- markable tomb; the fresh air streams in through the oven doors, carrying with it the perfnme of flowers and the merry | song of tbe birds without. | Hera it is tuat Professor Hasden passes | almost all his spare time; it is no strange | thine to see him taking his coffce here of amorning and smoking his cigareite be- | side bis child’s coffin. ~ His wife comes in | the afternoon and remains unul late evening. | “Bhe’s seldom alone,” the old porter at | the gate will tell you (he speaks of Julia Hasden as thouzh she were alive). *Poor folks, it's a comfort to them and it don't harm us. People’s given up remarking on it long ago.”” It is generaily believed in Bucharest that Professor Hasden’s mind is deranged on spiritualism. On all other matters it is as strong as ever.—New York | Tribune. | o ——— Discovery by Mr. Gladstone. The G. 0. M. in his time has discovered | many interesting relics, and not tue least interesting is the old milestone he found in Hawarden Park some years ago. While | pursuing one of his rambles, whioh in inose days were more frequent than they are now, the right honorabie gentleman discovered a stone near one of the pic- ture: que littie waterfalls by the spot where the old mill used to stand. It was in- scribed as follows: | i By Sir John Lord of thi «harles Howard, M1 wright. Wheat « as this year at 93 and Barl~y at 58 6d Bushel rea height exiensive. POOF Wwas st arving, 1iotous and Hanged. —Goiden Penny. e The production of amber in Germany | last year was about 440 tons. or nearly 100 tons more than in the previous vear. By far the lar er portion of the above qua tity is put out by the two mines of Palm nicken and Kraxtepelien, while the | smaller portion 1s obtaived by dredging | and searching the shore of the Baltic Sea. ) | of baving on | cause of Yuma. { haa | old and has attended three MAN AND DO& FROM YUMA WO of the most notable figures in Arizona’ nineteenth legislative assembly have been the man from Yuma and the dog from Yuma. Both bave attended every session promptly and regularly. Both are peculiar and distinc- tive characters in their way. The man is the best parliamentarian in the Treasure Territory. The aog is the only one in the Territory who may boast numercus occasions occu- pied a berth in a Puliman palace car. The man’s name is J. H. Carpenter, familiarly known and famous all over the Territory as just plain *Carp.” The dog's name is Carlo, but he has been dubbed the **Legis- lative Brown Pup.” Carpenter represents Yuma County in the Senate, and Cario represents Carpen- ter anywhere and everywhere. If you see the dog in the sireet you know at once and infailibly that Carpenter is not more than twenty feet away. And the memory oi the oldest inhabitant scarcely reaches to the time when Carpenter went abroad unattended by Carlo. Carlo is a well-bred, dignified beast, | whose father was a water spaniel and whose mother had the unadulterated blood of the Scotch collie in her veins. The mixture makes almost a distinctive breed, and altogether a fine-looking, in- teliigent dog. Either the man or the dog separately are interesting characters. Carpenter has served in five of Arizona’s nineteen legis- lative assemblies. He was chief .clerk of the Senate in the twelfth, assistant chief clerk of the House in the thirteentl, chief clerk of the Senate of the filteenth, Speaker of the House of the eighteenth, and member of the Senate of the nine- teenth, the one that has just adjourned. Out of all this wealth of legisiative ex- perience Carpenter has profited immense- ly. He 1s keen-witted in debate, quick as lightning in his parliamentary rulings when 1n the chair, and on the floor a most dangerous foe to any measure, no matter how strong the vote against him may be. His successful battles against the removal of the Territorial penitentiary from Yuma—a measure that ail the coun- ties except two and nine-tenths of all the taxpayers most heartily desire—have been lasting monuments to his fame asa par- liamentarian. During the eighteenth, while Speaker of the House, he adjourned the Assembly sine die, though the appropriation bill had not been passed, in order to defeat the prison-removal bill in the interests of his own constituency. Oaly a few days before the nineteenth adjourned he again defeated prison removal by his parlia- mentary keeaness. At one point the battle was almost lost, for the prison- removal nien had the necessary votes to carry the day. Only delay could save the The bill was before the House, lying on tho clerk’s desk, with only one or two minor measures ahead of it. This was early in the morning, and had things gone in their regaiar order the bill could have been engrossed and passed | veiore the afternoor: adjournment, Suddenly Carpenter moved to take up the regular order of business. The motion was redundant, superfluous and unneces- sary, yet technically correct. The prison- removat men looked at each other ques- tioningiy. - What did it mean—this new | move of Carpenter's? He gave them no time for reflection, however, and insisted upor his motion being put. President Hughes, who is a Tucson man and therefore a friend indeed | of Yuma, was quick io see the gist of things. The prison-removal men voted ‘‘no” solidly, just because the motion was made by Carpenter and they were airaid of it. Resul They had voted not to consider | their own messure, and now it must lie over till afternoon. 1n very chagrin the | Navajo man moved to adjourn sine die, and ounly the fact that the appropriation bill had not yet been passed prevented the measure from carrying. It was openly conceded that Carpenter “flimflammed’’ them. But Carpen- ter is aiways right in his parliamentary tactics, always safe within the rules, and his own foes do not accuse him of more cleverness than the minority always has the right to exercise— edge and the wit to do it. | Carpenter was once secretary of the | Merchants’ Exchange in San Francisco. He bas studied law, but is not a lawyer, and is now the superintendant of the Col- orado River Irrigation Company. much for the man. Now about the dog. Cario is 9 years sessions of the Legislature. The most wonderful thing about him is his poncarous'and pompous dignity. Most dogs act like dogs when out of doors, if at no other time, but Carlo is always a fastidious and circumspect in- dividual. He does not make friends with other dogs readily, and you must be it has the knowl- | So | | writes Clifford Howard formally introduced to him by the *'gen- tleman from Yuma' before he will take vouinto his confidence to the extent of even exchanging caresses. ‘When the Senate is in session Carlo lies at the side of the Yuma desk, or possibly upon it. Sometimes when thare isa luil in the proceedings Carlo will wander around the room a little and pay his re- spects to his fellow members. But if Carpenter snaps his thumb and second tinger instanter Carlo returns and re- sumes his place beside the Yuma desk. During rollcall and reading of the journal in the moruing hour Carlo invariably makes the round ot the Senate chamber. He goes directly to the president’s chair first, receives a nod ora patof recogni- tion, rubs his nose friendly against the president’s hand, then walks down, very quietiy and with great dignity, to the Gila member's desk. and then takes up his penter. It 1s Carlo who is first to notify the As- sembly. that the Senate has adjodrned. The two branches of the Legislature meet in adjoining halls, with heavy swinging doors between them. If at any time dur- ing the day the members of the Assembly see a big brown curly dog push his way through tbe deor and walk over to the Speaker’s chair. everyboay knows that the Senate has taken a recess. And until Carp’s” dog appears everybody knows that the Senate is still n session. arlo has no frivolous ways about him. No one ever saw him run—at least not in Phenix. He walks quietly side by side with Carpenter, and when Carpenter “meets a man’ and stops to talk the “‘brown pup” halts also. When at Yuma sometimes Carpenter leaves Cario at home for a day or two while he takes a flymnz trip to Los An- gelee. This occurs but rarely, but when it does Carlo goes down to meet every in- coming train. There are two trains a day at Yuma—one east and one west—and of course the whistle blows as the train nears thetown. Carlo’s home is at some dis- eat beside Car- tance from the depot, but the dog always | gets there first, and this is probably the only time he ever loses his dignity long enough to travel at an undignitied pace. Carlo has & profound contempt for lob- byists and members of the third house. | He never notices such ordinary indi- viduals unless formally introduced by Carpenter. As arule he associates only with members of the Senate, but at long intervals he takes a quiet stroll throuch | the Assembly and speaks to those wita whom he is acquainted. If Carpenter goes to church Carlo goes to church, and on the same day and in the same church. If Carventer attends a caucus Carlo coes the same. He is safe and will reveal no state secrets. Doubt- less he has a great many of them locked | up in his wise old head, but he never breathes a word. Yet he talks quite plainly and intelli- gently and nods long conversations with his master at cdd times. He does not £ | verform any tricks—such procedure would be entirely beneath bis dignity. He is as well known in Arizona as Carpenter ana Carpenter is probably the best known of the roung men of the Territory Carlo has traveled =2il over this section of the country with Carpenter and by all kinds of convevance. He is as familiar with the interior of Pullman palace cars as other dogs are with their kennels, for | Carpenter’s duties make him a constant traveler, and Carlo is his constant com- | panion. There is really something very pretty in the friendship and understanding between these two individuals, and everybody n | the Territory likes Carlo almost as well as | Carpenter and Carlo is welcome wherever Carpenter goes. Kor Carlo is never a dog out of place wherever he m never officious, never troublesome. You must speak to him first or he will prob- | ably pass you by unnoticed. He is one dog in a million and probably the only canine member of a legislative assembly in the Nation. The ciaim is made for him, too, that he is the only dog who has ever ridden in a Pullman car. Luxe NorTH. WIDOWS OF SOLDIERS, Seven Pensioners Whose Husbands Served Under Washington. “Seven women are still drawing pen- sions as the widows of men who saw act- ive service in the war of the Revolution— women whose husbands served under Washington more than 120 years ago,” in the Ladies’ Home Jcurnal. The eldest of these sur- viving widows of the Revolution is living at Los Angeles, Cal. She is Mrs. Lovey Aldrich, now in the ninety-eighth year of her age. Her husband was Private Caleb Aldrich, who was born in the year 1763, In turn he goes to | each desk, exchanges ‘'good mornings,” | be. He is | and served asa soldier boy in the New Eneland campaigns of the war. Mrs., Nuncy Jomes of Jonesborough, Tenn., whose husband was Darling Jone: a private ir: one of thie North Carolina reg ments, is the youngest of the Revolution. ary widows, being now about 83 years ot age. The other five are Nancy Cioud, who is living at Chum, Va., and is the widow of Sergeant William Cloud of Captain Christian’s Virginia line; Estber S. Da- mon of Plymouth_Union, Vt., whose hus- band was Private Noah Damon of Massa- i Chusetts; Mary Snead, iiving at Parksley, Va., widow of Private Bowdoin Snea; Nancy A. Weatherman, who lives at Bl | Mills, Tenn., and whose first husband was Robert Glascock, a fi'er in one of the Vir- gina reciments, and Rebecea Mayo, living at Newbern, Va', widow of stephen Mayo, a soldier from Virginia. “That these women can be the widows of Revolutionary soldiers is readily under- stood in view of the fact that their hus- | bands were well on in years when they married. As, for example, when Ksther Sumner married Noah Damon in the ysar 1835—fiity-two years alter the close of the war—she was but 21, while be was 76. The last Revoiutionary pensioner who had married prior to the close of the war, and had therefore actually lived during Revo- lutionzry times, was Nancy Serena, widow of Daniel F. Bakeman. She died about twenty-seven years ago, only a year or two after her husband, who was the last of the Revolutionary soldiers on the pen- sion roil.” e AN ANTI-JOHNNY BILL. Mr. Smithson’s Measure for the Protece tion of Young Womun Students. Mr. Smithson has introduced a bill in the Senate with this caption: ‘‘Anact for the protection of boarding-schools for females, and principals and inmales thereof.” It will be seen at once that Mr. Smith- son is aiming at an evil that principals | and patrons ol female schools have dis- cussed thousands of times, and have often taken precautionary measures against with but poor avail. In short words, he is aiming at ihat class of “Johnnies” whose taces, wreatned with tempting smiles, are often seen in the neighborhood uf schools for young girls. Thereiore he gives warn- ing 10 ail such classes that thev will have something worse thau the barking dogs, which betray their lurking presence, to dread in the future—a statute making the | offense a misdemeanor. | Mr. Smithson’s bill says 1t shall be un- | lawful for any persons to linger on the | street, alley, road or byway near a school for females, and that they shall not hold any communication, either in words or signs, with any of the inmates of such colleges. In passing the institution they shall not iinger or lurk near trying to communicate with any one on the in- side, and no one will be allowed to speak | to a pupil without express permission | from tie principal. Ifin any way the iumates of a scaool are snnoyed by billet doux ot any kind the offender will be guilty of a misde- meanor. The owner of the property or | the principal of the school will have re- course to the law 1n all cases where per- sons linger around the school. Mr. Smithson is not a moralist, but heis | aware of the capers that have been cut by | boys in the neighborhood of more than one female collage in Tenne-see. Mr. Smith- son said, referring to a certain f.male col- lage in this State: “There is a ciass of boys who have made themselves notorious by their capors around this college. The girls are wor- ried to death by letters and all other kinds of communications. The boys pass up | and down in fronc of thie college and | their handkerchiefs as & means for flirt: tion with the girls. The girls cannot go out on the streets without being accosted by ail sorts of handkerchief and glove flirtation siens, and often the boys speak to them. The principal has been worried out of his wits almost, but there is no way to stop ft. v | ““Even in the churches on Sundsy the boys will try to flirt with the coilege giris. ‘The ag.ravation has passed standing any | longer. and there must be a law to protect the girls and the colleges. This sort of condnct does not happen only at the col- lege I speck of, but aimost every femal school is bothered by the Johnny ciass.” | —Nashville Banner. e Wheeling on French Roads. A New York clergyman who made a tour through France on his wheel during the past summer punctured his tires so frequently upon tme highways of that | country that he always refers to the trip with pain instead of pleasure. After he had suffered no end of annoyance from | small nails, whic: were picked up time | and again along the country roads, he de- termined to learn why it was that a wheel- man in France could not r de throuch the provinces without puncturing his tire on every other mile or so. He ascertained that the troublesome nails are dropped from the soles of the wooden shoes used by the French peas- ants. Wocd being less adapted than leather to holding the nails securely ermits t'em to fall from the sabots, he ciergyman told the reporier that this circumstance is responsible for the fact that extensive experiments are bein m=de by French munufacturers in selfe healing tires—New York Mail and Ex- press. —————— | It has been comnuted that between | 86,000,000 and 37,000,000 babies arrive each year. THE i 4 SMALLEST DOG IN THE WORLD His Home Is in Vancouver, British Columbia, and He Is Owned by R. A, Mustall The tiniest dog in the world is in Vancouver, B. C. ., the property of R. A. Mustall. Mr. Mastall claims that Sir Archibald Maclean’s canire, Midget, a picture of which appears in meny American papers, is not The Maclesn dog is balf an inch larger all ounces more. The photograph appearing in th from the shotlder to the hip. The famous Vancouver prodigy lived f cut down by poison. Dauring his lifetime the smallest dog in the world, as reported. around and weighs from aypearance many ketch shows the size of the dog compared with | shaved off my mustuche 4 man's hand, and a 3-inch rule is placed in position to show the height of the dog | lor nine months, his eventful career being he killed several mice and was strong and well formed, His mother came from a celebrated English kennel and was a famous prize-winner, while his father was-a famous John Balfour. s terrier named Tony, from the kennels of In lifp the dog weighed 14 ounces, was 3 fnches long when the head was held erect, snd a lady’s slipper was utilized fnr the undoubtedly the minimum in dogflesh. litsle fellow’s kennel. Mustall’s Tiny is They Meet by Accident in the Town of Tulare. T, e oddest men in California are Walter | 3. Bramlett and Jerry Sullivan. Both are | dwarfs, but so remarkabiy well developed | that their small stature is not apparent | except when they are standing beside people of normal size, | Jerry Sullivan is the Tulare representa- | tive of the Wizard Oil Company and has iong been oneof the most popular men in histown. He can do a few tricksand make himself entertaining in many ways. Walter Bramlett 15 the night operator of the Southern Pacific Company at Formosa, a smalil station noi far from Tulare. It is eaid that he owns the town, which, of course, is not saying much judging by the size of the town. That, however, has nothing to do with the stozy of Jerry and Walter as a combination in the political economy of Tulare. Walter and Jerry met on the streets of Tulare a few days ago purely by accident and each deprived the other of breath fur {a few minutes. Walter just happened | over to the railroad metropolis to see how things were cetting on. It so happened that Jerry was out taking his morning promenade at the time and the two cams face to face. Both were dressed almost identically aud each thought he hsd walked up to a mirror. “That miserable barber has said Walter to himself. “Confound it. 1puess I must uave forgotten to shave for a week,” thouzht Jerry. However, in a few sec- onds the truth dawned on both and then followed comparisnns which showed that the two men, although much alike, were far from being twins. ' " Walter is 4 feet 314 inches1n height and Jerry stands 4 feet 2 inches. In huild these two men are very much alike. ODDLITTLEMEN il i f I i I They also seem to be alike in disposition. After each man had satisfied himself that he was “not the other fellow” the pair started on a triumphal tour of the town. It was then the citizens' turn to be surprised. The good people had long grown used to Jerry, but to see him arm- in-arm with his double—well, that was another, matter. Bo the people stared and stared. Then they crowded around the two little men and proceeded to do the honors of Tulare. It was a glorious day ana ..as given the people something to talk about for many a day to come. Many people said the two men were more fun than a circus. Later on Jer:y ana Walter had their pictures taken in many ¢haracteristic poses. They both struck attitudes as if about to participate in a fight sccording to the rules of the Marquis of Duzen berry. In this they were fortunately “‘snapped’ by & camera expert, and so preserved for ail time. ‘Walter took the night train home, and the two have not met since, but if they have anything to say about it they will do s0 again at the earliest opportunity. oo i In a London )'Io‘—tel. The American visitor to London who stops at a certain hotel in that city finds many novelties and conveniences 1hat are not known here in America, where hotels are supposed to have reachea the acme of luxury. It hasan American-plan dining room, but only a French bill of fare. It bas an Indian room, where an Indian chef, in the costume of his country, pre- pares native dishes for those Who desire them, In this hotel each guest is known by the | number of his room instead of his nsme, and it is rather odd to an American to be addressed as ‘‘Mr. 960,” as though he were a convict in the penitentiary. On each floor, day and night, are to be found a maid, a valet and a waiter, who are at your service and have Iree acc:ss to vour rooms. When you come home at night, if you are a man, you fiud your clothes pressed and cleaned and carefuily packed away in avhestof drawers. If you are a woman* the maid attends to frills and furbelows ag though she was hired by you especially. Guests never bother with their keys—the maid or valet on the floor takes charge of the key and 's ready at any time to opea your door.—Chicago News. —_————— A newly born infant sometimes donbles its birth-weight in seven days