The evening world. Newspaper, January 22, 1900, Page 6

f - aa ¢ Peaeed ty Co Prem Pubteebing Comwans, 2 to @ PARE ROW, Seesenrene ate mieememn eee 4 MONDAY, JANUARY 22, 1900, soccessesseceeereeeNO, 14,084 ‘VOL. 40 “MENTIONED FOR” —. © many men are made happy in these days when they are “mentioned for” ——; that is to say, for some good office, some nice place or some mark of honor. It is often @ great thing in the life of an ambitious politician or other citizen when he is “mentioned for” —. These people who do noi ese <s many news papers from all parts of the country as we see would hardly believe that several hundred men are now “mentioned for” the office of Vice-Pres!- aah of the United States—both Republicans and Democrats. in Im every State of the Union man after man is “mentioned for” the place. Out West somebody fe “mentioned” every day. We see the “mention” @f names in Texas,‘ Oregon, South Dakota and Montana, as well as !n Illinois, Kansas and even ‘Avansns, “Why, Judge! I hear the Basoo men- tens you for Vice-Preaident!" “Well, well, Colo- mel! So the Kicker has come out for you for the @eecnd place on the ticket; and that’s right, for the Vice-President ought to come from this part of the country.” You cam ee that any man who has thus been “mentioned” becomes more important in bis @tate, in his county, or, as the Boers would my, ‘This ie a great year for “mentioning.” There are et only to be elections for President and Vice- President, but in many places for Governors, : riffs, Comptrollers and lots of other iit i fs “mentioned” by anybody for he is apt to emile, along. A man may become fa- is “mentioned for” —- often enough q@mough, at party caucuses or public by newspapers or by a boss, A man helped by a “mention” in the pulpit. Gf mem, too, like to be “mentioned” for @iatinction, such, for example, as of @ baseball club, captain of a military @ompany, secretary of a labor union, D. D. G. 8. ri I tli it Until s man is “mentioned for’ oomething, he (had better take his ease in the tremendous crowd @f the glorious unmentioned. WHY ONE MAN FAILED. WORLD reporter who made the rounds of the trust companies in New York to ne- gotiate a loan on approved State Trust Company collatera! furnishes what {s thus ‘ far the most intercsting of the contribu- to The Evening World's “Why I Have i i to lend their funds on satisfactory he knew that the securities he of- tl { ‘The premises seemed all right, but the conclusion did not follow—the loan was met forthooming. Why? Well, chiefly because would-be borrower's modest request lacked (@e persuasive intonation of Payn's plea. Wor the touchstone of suc.ess in the circles of Migh Finance is 8 lively expectation of favors to @ome, This is the open sesame alike of Will and United States Treasury, E i the high art schemes for beau- fe that thelr originators have only people who might help them A combination of imagination rare. fe} if IH et & f t i I ! i E MeDonald's interest in South be materially narrowed, as he contem- war i | j ty 5 ie i 5 e f (| with Mr. Howell's. symposium. He found the companies| + The Making of w the Novel. ‘ ‘There is some dispute as to whether every novel- Besides writing books, Mr. Howells lectures about tion, as he appears upon the lecture platform, as given recently by an ebservant reporter: “Willtam Dean Howells wears hie sixty-two years lightly, and his evening clothes with that distinction they Invariably confer on men of high color. “He looked, first of all, @ gentleman; seeing him guess at his walk tn life you would say he was @ very rich and well-groomed banker—probably retired. “His grayish-white hair, which ts growing thin at the top of his head, is parted ending the part is fairly narrow, but half- way back from the forehead t broadens out to @ small, aparsely covered tract, fm the middie, At its hexinning and | which some day will be « bi pot. “His mustache {s heavy and quite white and arranged with much neatness. He has not all the unkempt look {mposed upon him Tis forehead te high and not deeply Harpers iss which {# the face of a man with whom things have gone very nicely. His neck 1s short; tn fact, quite concenied by the high collar, and tn figure he ts what you He wore pince-nes glasses hung around might with absolute truth call dumpy his neck with a tangled black cord “He read from manuscript, and rapidly—except when he lost his place by bumping against @ word he could not see, When this happened, which was fre- quently, Mr. Howells paused an4 coughed until the word disclosed tteelf, At the second cough it usually comes to the surface “His pronunciation wea a lovely illustration of what even an American can achieve in the way of correct utterance and atfll not seek refuge in an English eecent.” ‘And these are some of the things Mr. Howells sald of novels to novel-readers: It ta the unrtvalied literary form, “But tf {t cannot succeed in painting life truly, no ood can come of tt. "I take the novei rather seriously. WILLIAM DEAN H WOULD rather read my own novels than read no novels at all.” ‘Those are the words of William Dean Howells, whose name ‘a, perhaps, qute as well and widely known as that of any writer of the generation, People do exist who declare they would seoner read no novels than those of this particular producer, Nevertheless, Mr. Howells has publishers and would-be publishers and « very great following. The Day's Love Story HER LITTLE WAY. 2 @ Ee ee te Nove “Certainly it 1a easter to fb about life tha 1 0 wet | the tras andeet et lite fe n to tell the truth about it or to get | @ “You never master your art as a whole. I used to think when I was a young | ‘¢ writer that when I once struck my gait I should have struck It for good and all. | me ie ae hegre #0. I find I have to strike my gait with each new story. pon each one myself beginning again as a ‘prentice hand ‘ orsefie bere “AS many of you may suspect, I do not care for ploteI start with an ides, The |“/4"t Keen, bis bit iby ag typi Tig be | whole Lage preg in succession of little dramas, which add themselves on to one |” \orns times change, colonel," another, business gore as it should. But sometimes it distingtly does not—| pawn the long val along whi were cometimes there ts the nessssity of tesring up a day's work, a week's work, a WA CHiAiy Got Ih figure poyaede ohestnut month's work, three months’ work, and beginning again at the place where thing: the half gallop, followed by @ groom on a cob. ent sree at he added, with a sagacious little nod, “and I can nearly always! naa never even Miss Nancy on horseback deere, “ae pall casa Ge not touch the feelings we fail and a new link was forged by the sight of her. “I do not know what quality it is makes a novel universally pleasing. If I did, I should set about writing it forthwith. ° “It ie the persenal quality of an author which wearies you at last—as it won you at first “There has been no cause vital tp the happiness of the human race which has been unfriended of the novel. . “The novelist must endeavor to give the average view of life “The best thing that can fille man's mind is his work, and if his work does does not fill it his self will, and ft can have no worse tenant. “I have had no vanity in me since I heard of the case of @ young lady in boarding school who told her teacNer she knew all the love parts of my novels, but supposed I was an Englishman and dead. To be both an Englishman and dead seemed to me rather hard. = - “Unknown correspondents may reprove you for marrying your heroines to the wrong man, but nothing calls out such universal indignation as not to marry ne ee one, 5 novelist would better not aim to please. He would better not to alm to ftnstruct. If he relents truth he will succeed to both. “The novelist will find readers subtly privy to what may seem to him his most elustve meaning. This is his reward after the first est of recognition is gone. If he puts into his book anything especially intimate, especially peculiar to him- self, he will find that ts the one thing untversal. | EEWOIOSCDOD 9: reader’ ition fs tm tine . 's post the dogs, str,” aald be an ensign, damune, slr, the man whe books, This ts hie Gesertp- in company and making a by the pictures the Messra, wrinkled, nor ts his face, BODICE IN FRENCH FLANNEL | | Here te @ bodice in pale rose French flannel, with rows of stitching in velvet ribbon. The skirt ts of black broadcloth, trimmed with fur and black-dotted white velvet. THE WAY OF LOVE. HOGN you are here we seem to tread A quiet, meditative way Between bare woods whose lenves are shed, Whore birds are still, this many « day; And though the sky hang gray above The coloriess woods, yet gad am 1, Beoause it ts the way of Love, ‘The way he leads his pilgrim by. But when we are parted, Fear creeps tp And whispers of the happy place, ‘The lavish jand, in which you win The habitual sunshine of your face And your glad world, that Inughs et thig, At last will teach your heart to see How desolate the pathway {s Which ts the way of Love, for me. OF LITTLE FOLK. ITTLE three-year-old Flossie saw a man walking along the street with Ms arm in a@ sling. “Oh, mamma,” she exclaimed, “there goes a man with his-arm tn a hammock." “Your spelling is something terrible, Johnny,” aald & mother to her young hopeful, as she glanced over a letter he had written. “Ituh!’ aajd Johnny, “that ain't apellin'—that's writin’ ’ LOST TO SIGHT. Bmall boy (who !s somewhat oramped for room)—Are {you still there, Billy? I thought you was lost.—Punch, ooo MECHANICAL GESTUS, “You needn't tell me that women have no tnventtre facvity.” “What do you know about it?" “Whenever my wife can't find the gimlet she uses my silver corkscrew. — — GRAIN CoRYERs. “Wheatmore,” said the tall broker, "was @ square ; | regular, good old way of securing a mate. TWO PARIS COSTUMES. LAURA JEAN LIBBEY. Don't Answer “Personals,” “DO YOU DISLIKE MET’ “That's @ good girl,” eald the colonel. Ho anw tant T saluted. “Who is shet" “Miss Nancy Power,” said I. “What! cried the commander, “the Amerieam gut” “The same,” sald I. (Cupystght, 190, dy Ge Prem Pubtihing Company, Now York ‘Wertt.) YOUNG girt asks me if it is wrong to answer personals, and I answer chat it 1s certainly ene of the gravest follies that @ woman could per- mit Rerself to be drawn into. A stranger has adver’! astray by it “Yea, Mr. Damer?’ and the witch laughed la my Used for a-wife, and she, through @ spirit of mischiev-/ A rouse sees @ young girl om @ car or on the street face ous frolic, has answered it, and attracts her attention, then reserts to the personal “Yeu” In the first place, It is positively alarming to think of some person whom you do not even know going about with your letters in his posket—« person who may perchance be a burgiar, a gambler, a murderer, an ‘The gown on the figure at the left i¢ made of biue- meray cloth. The little bolero and the double skirt are all stitched on the edges with stlk of the same shade “No, Mr. Damer.” But there was no heartines the “No.” 1 saw in o fam what I hed dene. ously, as effectively as the small-pox or other con- tagtous nuisances which menace the pubile good. 1 express myself strongly, earnestly, feslingly, in the Italian organ-grinder, a Chinese laundryman Heaven knows what not! hope that thie young correspondent wilt not attempt |** ‘ne cloth, The pointed rovers and the collar are of auegtion out of rotation, if I wished to secure the A young girl who stoops to answer « “personal” must| to play with an edged tool, or seize with careless fin- | Kray nue Velvmt of & Harser sade than the clolt. | nroper reply. But being, I trust, @ man not easly be near to losing every vestige of her maidenly mod-)gere a firebrand to soorch and burn life's white, un- | 104 | pended lh ooo att, embroidered with | snashed, I simply pulled my het over my eyes an4 put esty and refinement, sullled page ‘The gown on the right-hand figure is a beautttul|™Y swestion again. An acquaintance made through such & channel has| Have nothing to éo with personals, my Gear s1r18; 1 s1or.made gown of light drab lady's cloth. ‘The tight- vas none of the elements of respectability about it. never permit yourselves to read them; and surely yOu! niting jacket corsage buttons in the middle of the| A® We turmed out of the park there was e jolly of gentleman coming in om @ great white charger that might have been at Waterloo and still be yeung. “God bless my soul!” he cried, “Ute Namy Power!" “Oh, Mr. Denbigh, huw do you do? This is a pleam> ant surprise.” “Hear you've been getting engaged, Nanay,” reared this Sovial old gentleman. ‘This the happy"~ and he thrust out his hand. ‘Pleased to make your ae Quaintance, Bir Timothy.” He wrung my hand fervently, while I booked at Nancy and langhed. ‘The old gertieman lookeé pussied. “Made @ mistake?” sald he, will not—tf you respect yourselves and wish the world ‘The man who has to resort to the public prints to to respect you—ever think of answering one secure @ wife must need have eome alarming blemish about him, socially or mentally, to bar him from the front, with round crocheted buttona, and is trimmed, as is also the skirt, with rows of stitching done with silk of the same shad the cloth. The high collar and the revers are Russian sable—le Costume Elegant. . SOME THINGS sHe won’T vo. HE woman of discernment will not wear a fash- fonable color if she knows it is unbecoming. She will not wear a pompadour ff she is certain me looks like @ Southdown sheep with it. Lsteog bldg ko ee he will not buy herself a hat of a certain type be-| “” » air,” oaid I. only cause her best friend looks ilke & picture in one. man, det cho hegpiet men in Magnet. Sut T She will not make « nonentity of herself in order to|heaven and my parents that they ién't call me nary an, but the woman who tak a 4 “You have got a treasure, Michael,” said he. in the drug store opposite. follow the lead of the bellwether !n fashion affairs, heer gil Be habia my wiesenee Weta e ; i oy Meliaans, siete om ble roan, heana and THINGS BETTER LEFT UNSAID. Mies Litter writes these articles fer The Brening World e1- ‘The girl whp answers an advertinement of such a n& ciusivsiy, tS nae ‘wih the Family Stary Paper. 3 “TREASURE TROVE.” THE MOTHER. HE woman who takes into her heart her own children may be a very ordi: “No, but something equally scripturel—Micheel,” sald I. “Pleased to make your acquaintances, Michael,” eaté PPOODHOSSE400699-200-06640040160606| Bo the Morning Post announcement would be tere ————————— stalled.—Black and White. he heartily. WEARY WAITING, —_—— And though I have a horror ef people whe call me Caller—Do you ve many transient boarders here? LETTERS everne worn by my Christian name, somehow I could mot bring Landledy—Oh, yes, We frequently have people atop myveif to dislike the genial Mr, Denbigh. here a day or two while they have a prescription filled i ut bi ty or (rem “Asien! Yeben,” ty Permimha of R. H. Bemetl, Pubttshen) Convivial Idon—Thte teh very partickler fren’ o mine, my dear, jus’ been wash’ ashore on a cask @ wine [ws ‘e BEAUTY. ws | BY HARRIET HUBBARD AYER. NXIOUS—The brown epots on your face are us. doubiediy caused by some liver trouble. You cas not take them off the face by skin, and unless the cause is removed even this ¢ ment will be only of temporary benefit. 1 give you a formula for the yellow discolorations: Oleate of copper, from ten to twenty oxiie of one-half ounce; pl at t and wash off in the morning. As an internal remedy try taking one teaspoonful of phosphate of soda in a giase of hot water an hour be fore breakfast. Repeat the dose an hour before re- ej A Word for a Baby. Constant Reader—No, do not think of letting the baby stand at seven months, The bones of her lege are not strong enough to support her weight and she will certainly be bowlegged. I should not wean her until she is a year old unless your own pealth re- quires that you @heuld do so. For a Coarse Skin, M. E. L.-—Get « good flesh brush and use tt al! over the body every night with soap and hot Gay. I wag best wan to my own grandfather. She—Really? How funny! Hadn‘t be ever been mar- Hed befere?—Punch. . ———o——— A FRIEND I NEED. “Geognees! It's dark and I've forgotten my bicycle am. “Here take my diamond scarf pin.” ——a—_— Bow THEY WORK !T. Weather Man—It's going to be awfully foggy to- night. Astrosomer—Then I'll rush out an announcement of shower. Iéa—Luther is not frank. Ee never says or does thing right out. May—No; he even parts his hair on the side