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%'% JEMIEJUMinrETJEOPE. Hater Den Linden a Disappointment— Study of the Palaces of King Will iam and Bismarck. Onrions Mixing of Objects of Veneration- Soldiers Obliged to Go to Church— Awkward Uniforms. Hie University of Berlin and its Large American Patronage—Tlie Dueling Custom. tL City of Seventeen Theaters and In numerable Gardens--Amusements Popular. Berltx, Aug. 28.—1t used to be said, "See Paris and die." The saying might be reversed now to "See Berlin and live." Berlin is a great town —quite as much for what it is and promises to be as for what it has been. It is a curious mixture of mili tary glory, classic culture and modern en terprise, and a splendid example of military methods applied to commercial and busi ness uses. Berlin lias grown great very re cently. The popular idea that its claims to beauty and consideration are based on Un ter den Linden is a great mistake. Unter flen Linden is a disappointment. It might have been a grand promenade before Paris created its system of magnificent boule vards, and otlier large cittt-s throughout the civilized world followed the example, but it Is no longer unique, no longer without plenty of rivals, some of whom surpass it In extent —if not in beauty, and the realiza tion of this fact has determined the govern ment to extend it one mile beyond its pres ent limits, and thus add to the opportunities for line residences and public build ings, the most of which occupy the Imposing section between the Royal palace and the Brandenbourg gate. This palace is the residence of the emperor, the one he always occupies when he is in Berlin. He is very accessible, and almost always in view of the people as they pass the palace, sitting near the window of a email room which he calls his working-room and which, like all those he occupies, is furnished in the simplest manner. The window our guide pointed out was the third one of the three near the pillared front of the palace, which we were not able to enter because it was undergoing repairs. It is not in the state of the emperor or that maintained by the royal family that ( (the greatness, present or prospective, of [Berlin consists, but in the application by jihe government of ail its resources to great '■public v.o.ks. to enterprise that will con- Flirm ils strength as a nation and conduce to the welfare or' cue whole people. AS AN EXAMPLE may be mentioned the splendid system ol |(metropolitan railway which encircles the whole city, connects all the depots — are the finest in the world —and facilitates business, and the movements and social life of the people in a hundred ways. Primarily, the object doubtless was to facilitate military operations, and arrange for the massing of troops in any direction, but the effect is to furnish an admirable system of transporta tion, which is at the same time inexpensive and inexhaustible. In other respects the means of locomotion are very abundant and marvelously cheap. Carriages can be hired for a mark or less, according to their ap pearance and the excellence of the horses — that is their strength and swiftness. The police regulate* this matter and every in ducement is offered to do and bo the best, exactly opposite to our system in .New York, where the premium is put upon inca pacity and the faculty for not doing thrives better than the capacity for doing. The system of tram-cars is also complete, the cost trilling and regulated by distance, so that the short-route people aie not taxed to pay for the long-route people as with us. but each one pays what is just and every opportunity afforded for pursuing business or pleasure without wasting time or money. The German government not only provides the buildings in which its work is performed, but furnishes the principal officers of the state with suitable residences which belong to the office, not to the individual, although the individual uses it at his pleasure, and preserves its privacy intact if he so pleases. The palace of Prince Bismarck, for ex ample, is not open even in his absence to the general public—it is as inaccessible as the prince himself, who is never seen ex cept on public occasions, and excites noth ing of the sympathy and personal devotion which is so conspicuous a part of the popu lar feeling for the kaiser—"Kaiser Wil- holm," as he is always called. The official residents Add much to the Imposing ex terior of the city, and they enable the offi cial to maintain his position without resorting tq petty tricks ami meannesses or wholesale bribery and corruption. Indeed, j the standard ol public morality is said to j be in reality, very high. A man*who would steal from an individual, that individual his own mother, would not steal from the gov ernment. The lowest depth of depravity is reached when a man will defraud his coun try—his fatherland: nor could he eyre re cover Ills standing socially or in a business way if lie had once Committed any fraudu lent act, for it is considered that he wrongs not one individual alone, but the whole community, and exercises a PUBLICLY DEGRADING INFLUENCE. An instance of misuse of public money is hardly known in the history of local govern ments. The public knowledge of and dk- ' eussion of government doings is much lees i than with us in a quiet way. Within the I past ten or fifteen years railroads have been I bought until they are nearly all owned, j managed, officered, equipped and run by the state. Great industrial, educational and scientific enterprises and institutions | have been built up without noise—almost without comment. The system of improve ments, too. is not confined to the city uf ' Berlin. At Hanover has been built the i finest railroad depot in the world and which j will remain so until it is eclipsed Dy that of I Frankfort —not to be completed for two I tears. In the smaller places the school I Rouses and public works of every descrip- ! have been improved and built up in i Vqual proportion. The new technical i Vcliool of Berlin on the road to San Souci J is the greatest thing of the kind in the world. It is our Cooper institute magni fied about one hundred times—it is iv fact the work of a powerful government in spired by the same motive as a benelicent and noble-minded individual. Where the money comes from for these great works is often a question with the Berlinese them selves. TAXES AUK I.OIV and no strain is put upon the people; it is believed that every mark and cent of the indemnity money received from France has been put into the acquisition of railroads l>y the government and the building of great public works. Now that a great technical school has been secured, the next great effort is the building of a new Kathhaus. The old one is very small—the new one is to be worthy of the greatness and glory of the German nation, and Is to take seven years to build. The ground has been bought, but the buildings are hardly begun. Naturally much of the business prosperity and great activity observable in every de partment of industry throughout Germany are due to the extent and variety of the public constructive energy througnout the empire, and which daies from the reorganization. Government is the greatest employer, and its efforts are not conlined to one town or city, or one department of industry; neither is it controlled by the wretched con tract system, which deliberately puts a pre mium upon dishonesty and incompetence. The work must be the best, worthy of the nation as well as the individual. State palaces are rarely the favorite residences of kings, and the state palace in Berlin is no < xception to the rule. It is a stately pile, however, without much claim to architect ural beauty, but very good for its purpose, which is the giving of state balls and re ceptions. It stands at one end of the Unter den Linden avenue. theßrandenbourg gate funning the limit at the other. It is als o ai the entrance to the palace—often called tie "Elector's" bridge—a statue of the X.eat "Elector" occupying a niche beyond tie railing. The bridge is adorned "with numerous marble groups and figures, some hi: toricsome military and some mythologic al, indeed the mixing up of objects of venera tion in Germany is curious, not to say con futing. The military system here seems to be perfect, and the military men the finest in the world. They are generally tall, splen did-looking fellows, and always appear in public as if on dress parade —scrupulously cl< an and neat in their appointments, every button shining, every thread in its place. EVEKY SUNDAY they are marched to church, which is a little odd, considering that Sunday is kept more as a holiday in Germany as well as in France than as a day for strictly religious observance. In this respect Protestant communities (Beriin contains only 50,00u Catholics out of its 1,250,000 of population) are no more exacting than Catholic, showing that it was no. tiie Protestant but the Puritan element that is responsible for the rigid ob servance of tii.'Sabbath.sineo it is confined to Great Britain and America. This obliga tory church-g ring is jokingly said to by the principal cauie of dissatisfaction with the system of«iniiitary service, which is, phys ically, a training for the common people — disciplines aid teaches them cleanliness. order, and is making of the German nation the best equipped race in the world tor all great emergencies. Of course much is done to foster miiiiary pride, power and glory. The new artillery museum, not yet com pleted, is devoted to the exhibition of of fensive ami defensive instruments. Ever} weapon that has ever been known or used is included in the collections. It is. in fact, a history of the art of war among ali m - tions and at all periods of time, ami it is not yet completed —it is still being enriched by paintings, by statuary and by articles of contribution or purchase. THE MILITARY SYSTEM is so very perfect and its details so evidently prescribed that one cannot help wondering why some regulator or regulation does not interfere to improve one feature of the cos tume. This consists of the exceeding tightness and slhunegs of the legs of the trousers, which are in painfully thin and insufficient contrast to the heavy overcoat, the topheavy hal and the large" feel of the average German soldier, He reminds you of a house built upon piles, constantly liable to disaster from the inadequacy of its underpinning. The rifle practica among them is said to be carried to perfection, and the drilling usually active and severe. Germany does not intend to be taken at a disadvantage, and great expectations are based on the accession of the Crown Prince to the throne. Others, however, think that the crown prince would be content to pursue the present policy of fostering the arts of peace while keeping prepared for war. He might have tried his hand at in itiating great changes had he come into power earlier, but as people grow older they grow conservative; they know thai great and beiiiiieent movements are of slow growth and are developed from the inside, not. applied to the outside of the body poli tic. The crown prince? too, is much under the Influence of his wife, who, simple, ener getic and kindly, still inherits something of the conservatism of her mother, Queen Victoria of England. The University of Berlin is the largest and perhaps the best equipped in the world. It has upwards of 5.000 students, 600 of whom are American, and ; graduates of our colleges or the Ger man gymnasia. The system is, perhaps, as perfect as any system of education in the world, but it is defaced by one. glar ingly brutal and barbarous feature which ought at once to be wiped out for the credit of humanity and the redemption from butcherdour of the nineteenth century. A scar.cd face is a mark of honor, and Prince Bismarck has carried all his life the evi dences of his reputation as the greatest fighter of his university. His example may have had something to do with perpetuating the savage practice, which is not engaged in from any enmity of individuals or .sections, but to maintain the lighting standard of the corps to which the student belongs. On the occasions when the combats take place the participants are encased .11 armor all but the top of their heads and faces, at which they are permitted to stab away as violently as they please for teen minutes. Physicians are in attendance to prevent fatal conse quences, bur the students are often dis figured for life. A CIRCUMSTANCE occurred to a party consisting of two young ladies and a gentleman at a cafe in Berlin quite recently, which illustrates the honesty of the students and the frequenters of such places. It was a highly respectable res taurant, frequented by professors and stu ST. PAUL DAILY GLOBE, RL^DAY MCTR.^TITnG,SEPTEMBER 27, 1885. —SIXTEEN PAGES. ' dents, particularly because it was the agency of a celebrated Nurnberger beer, and the little party of three had just called for some with the usual accompaniments when a servant came to the table andasked if one of the young ladies had lost a watch. At first both said no, but on examination one of the young ladies discovered that her watch and chain, very beautiful and costly, were gone. The servant was followed and the fact made known. lie asked the lady to describe the property, which she did, and immediately he brought it to her. She gave the man a gratuity and asked to be allowed to thank the finder, who was said to have picked it up outside the cafe, at the en trance. The tinder declined to be thanked but was pointed out in Hie person of a dis tinguished-looking student—handsome in spite of a terribly scarred face—accompa nied by two magnificent greyhounds. The girls were from Cincinnati, 0., and will vouch for the strict truth of this slory. The new picture gallery of Berlin, called the "National" gallery, is back of the Roy al Museum, and contains principally Wag ner's collection. The most remarkable picture, at least the one that draws the largest crowd, is Hans Makart's fa mous "Catherine Conaro." The Royal Museum seen at the side with its dome is popularly known as the l*Old" Picture gal lery. It contains pictures gleaned from the royal palaces—especially from San Souci and largely collected by Frederick the Great. The galleries and museums are •<;! --ways open on Sunday and are usually well tilled. Thousands too embrace the oppor tunity for excursions to the country, so that every means of conveyance is crowded. Formerly the shops were kept open a few hours in the morning—or till church time now they are usually closed on 'Sunday and the tendency more and more Is towards sup pressing business on that day. but opening every possible avenue to self-improvemeni and the enjoymeui of the "out-of-doors," which Germans so love and from which so many are cut off by their dailj avocations. CICIIMA.V AMUSEMENTS. There is no place in the world where there are so many places of amusement as in Uerliu— not even in Paris. There are seventeen theaters, at which the prices oi admission rate much lower "than in am other large city, and innumerable "gar dens." The principal oi' these arc the kk-1. garten, Thler garten and the Zoolog al garden. TheKroll garten is a very favor ite place of amusement, with two bands of its own and a complete company of per formers. Fine military government bands play in the Thiergarten and in t!;e Zoologi cal garden, both of which are open all the time and in which during the summer a concert is given in one or the other every evening. The entrance fee is half a mark —except on concert nights and then it is a mark (35 cents). But the gardens are beautiful and possess man; attractions. In the Thier garten is a Japanese village, the houses made of bam boo, the occupants Japanese men and women, pursuing their usual avocations. The greatest interest on the part of the crowd was shown towards the real pretty young Japanese girls, who were busily em ployed making fans and screens, and also in the "play house.''where a number of Japanese children were engaged at a game which looked like leap frog. The Zoolog ical garden is controlled by a company, who rent the grounds in one of the parks from the city, and is enormously well paid for its investment. The collection of aniiir.il: does not compare with that of London, but the attractions are greater, and draw thousands of people every Sunday. Stand ing on the castellated heights, which have the appearance of a ruin, and looking down upon the lake. en circled by a row of electric lights on a lovely summer evening, watching the graceful movements of the black and white swans, and the moving masses of happy people, one quite agrees to the general proposition that it is an enchanting specta cle, and that the Germans know how u> en joy themselves. We paid a burned vWn to Charlottenberg, which is three-quarters ol an hour by train, h> order to see tiir; palace where the previous emperor, brother of the present emperor, Frederick William IV., was confined for the last years of his life after lie became Insane, and also the 2 soleura erected to the memory of the father and mother of Kais< : V. lllielm and I'■1 '■ ick IV., Frederick 111 and Qi ien Loi i The beautiful queen died.it 84 of grief . ; the subjugation of her husband and country by the all-conquering arm and armi< Napoleon. It is n small stone chapel, with pillared front, containing two tombs and two magnificent marble vases with sculpture*] figures. The exterior of t!n% touibs is in the form of couches, upon one which the < squisite figure of the queen re -1 oses, her hands crossed upon her breast, her head slightly tinned to the side. Llghi is admitted through plain blue glass win dows and there is no ornamentation wive a fresco over the altar, which represents the king and queen resi-jnimr Iheir earthlj crowns ai.d receiving from the Savior ii< ay- enly ones. Upon the wall is also a copy o Gnido Reni's "Ecce Homo," made by the sifter of the present emperor when she was eighty years old. We also made a flying visit to Potsdam, ten miles from Berlin, A SMALL TOWN' FAMOUS in many ways, the most modem of which is the choice of it by unhappy persons who wish to put an end to their own sorrowful lives. Quite near to the station is the old palace, now little used, bat which contains the celebrated dining-room used by Fred erick the Great when he Wished to dine with his ministers unattended by servants and had the central part of the table let down to the kitchen through a trap, filled and sent up again as often as required by his own appetite or that of his guests. The old church where Frederick the Great is buried is in sight from the palace, but there is nothing remarkable in its appearance. From this point it is a short drive to the "New" palace, which Frederick built at the close of the seven years' war to prove that he was not so poor as the world said. The palace is now the home of the crown prince and princess, and the large salon, whose walls and ceiling and pillars are studded with uncut gems so thickly that they seem to be composed en tirely of amethyst, lapis-lazull. crystals and the finest, most delicate shells, is used as a ball room. One tiny oyster shell was re-» marked as containing the pearl just as it was found. "Sans Souci," only a short distance from the palace, the building of which was instigated by his pride, was THE FAVORITE RESIDENCE of Frederick the Great. Here he fitted up the rooms occu pied by Voltaire with Fontaine's fables worked in the tapestries, and the parrot, the magpie and the monkey, as emblematic of the conceit, the malice and chattering propensities of his distinguished guest. It was here, also, that Fiederick the Great died, and the chair in which he sat, the book he was reading—a French work—are shown. Here, too, are the graves of iiis favorite dogs—eight In all—and his pet horse, each honored with a separate gravestone. From Sans Souci one must re turn and ride quite to the other side of the town to see Babbelburg. This is the pri vate residence and property of the emperor built with his own money, one room at a time, when he was crown prince, and the most cosy, delightful, homey sort of a house in the world. It is a low, irregular structure, ami looks exactly as if it had been built a little at a time. The rooms are up and down two steps and come upon you in the most unexpected manner. Un like Queen Victoria, who likes to keep Os borne house to herself, the .emperor PEBMXTB THE FBEEBT INSPECTION and seems to be happy in having nothing to conceal and in living on the most intimate terms with his subjects. It is at Babbels burg that the famous room was upholstered iii Scotch plaid out of compliment to the Princess Victoria on her marriage with the crown, prince. The hideous result can be imagined. The prettiest room is the one dedicated to the use of the emperor's daughter, the grand duchess of Baden. It is upholstered in dark blue velvet and embroi dered in a design of wheat and asters in !/o!d and paler shades of blue. In the em peror's room is a chair tijat the crown prince madeof pine when he was learning bo be a carpenter, it is not ornamental. It is a motherly housekeeper who show you ovei the domain at Babbelsburg, and she exhibits with great pride a stick cut from the forest by Kaiser Wilhelm'a own hand, and says it Is the one he always car ries. The dining room is a lovely high room with a gallery and shelves, upon which are ranged quantities of the most beautiful Venetian glass, (".inched with the anus of various countries. All this has been received as gifts, and is highly prized .vii 1 treasured.! o.V!: END OF THE DINING-KOOM looks out oh the park and the other on a lake upon which were two yachts and miniature men-of-war owned by members of the royal family. A: the head of the staircase are trophies of the chase in the shape of deer head and antlers; also the contribntoin of I son and grandson. In many respects Bab beisburg is more simple than many a coun try home of a rich merchant prince, but ii bears every evidence of being one of the happiest homes in the world. It is a little curious that the growing wealth of Berlin is lessening the number of persons who live in apartment houses and rapidly increasing the number of lint; houses and individual homes. As we are. taking up j and rustling into apartments and great apartment houses, Berlin is getting away from them — that the conditions ~ which existed in regard to dwellings in the two cities a few years ago may be reversed within the next decade. Jennie Joe. Copyrighted by G. W. Henna, 1885. r ! I banner flies and flaunts {" OY7UV\P C O'er those who freely I Ufii/lflO O use the "Wants." AGES OF THE SIDEISTS. Gen. Grant f'.is Youngest in Office. Them Cleveland. The first three presidents of the United States all represented a generation which had been prominent at the beginning of the great revolution that made this country in dependent and secured to it a place among the nations of the world. Washington and John Adams were almost of the same age. Both were born in the fourth decade of the eighteenth century. Jefferson was their junior, but was a leader when the colonies emancipated themselves from English rule. lie represented the fifth decade of the last century. Madison, born in 1751, was 25 years old when the Declaration of Inde pendence was adopted, but he attained eminence at a later ('ate. Monroe was Madison's junior by seven years, but as compared with Washington and John Adams, he represented a new generation. But the accession of John Quincy Adams, the son of the second president, impressed the country with the fact that the entire generation of the founders of the govern ment had passed from the public scene, though Adams and Jefferson were still among living men. - Andrew Jackson was born in the same year as his immediate pre decessor, 1707. Jackson's successor, Van Buren was the first president who had no personal recollection of the struggle for In dependence, for he was born in 1782. At this inauguration, he called public attention to the fact. "Unlike all who have pre cened me," he said, "the revolution that gave us existence as one people was achieved at the period of my birth. I feel that 1 be long to a later age." Yet Van Buren'a suc cessor, Gen. Harrison, was born in 1772, or tlnee years before the Declaration of In dependence, lie was the only president i who represented the men born in the eighth • decade of the 18th century, and the oldest I man who ever attained the Presidency, Tyler was born in 17' JO. His successor, Polk, was five years younger. Bui Gen. Taylor, who succeeded Polk, was born in 1784. Miliard Fill more was born in 18 10. Pierce in ISO 4. Buchanan was the last president born in the 18th century—l79l. Abraham Lincoln was born 1809, a year later than his successor, Andrew Johnson. Gen. Garfield was bom in 1881. President Arthur in 1830 and President Cleveland in 16-->7. The latter attained the presidency at an earlier age than an of his predecessors excepting Gen. Grant. President Cleve land's term closes the first century of presi dents of the United Siates, and the decade of the present century which he represents SO far as the time of his birth is concerned, corresponds to the decade of the last cen tury which the first president represented in the same way. ■Si Tinu> on Lake Constance. The lake of Constance is only some fifty miles in length, but anyone who travels from pier to pier and wishes to know the right time of day at each ought to carry live watches. Its waters wash the shores of five diffeient states Austria; Baden, "Wur teraberg, Bavaria, and the Swiss federation, it you land at Rorscuach and want to catch the train atßagatzor Churyour watch ought to stand at Bern times In Fnedrich shafen you must know the Stuttgart time, in Constance the Baden time, in Landau the Munich time. The Austrian time is not reckoned from Vienna, but from Prague, which differs no less than '2S minutes from the Hern time. Hence a traveler crossing over the Austrian frontier at St. Margareten must put back his watch half an hour in or der to set himself right at the Swiss station. This non-conformity among the clocks may be an amusement, or merely a slight incon venience, to the tourist, but it must be a serious hindrance to the men of business in this center of increasing international traffic. —Pail Mall Gazette. -•>« ft l Kivc? the "Wants a boom. Ik NT I '-'1 VI Stil! they coiuo and still hlAll/l infl there's room. A Calf in it Storm. In speaking of a recent storm in Cal houn. i.a., and the damage it did, the Times of that place says: "A colored ten ant on Mr. D. M. Durham's place had a calf, tied with a twenty-foot rope to a tree, in the field to graze. After the storm had passed over the colored man went out to see about his calf, and found him prostrate, the tree twisted off just above where the rope was tied, and a ring around the tree deep enough for him to lay his finger in. It is -aid that the ring around the tree was made by the wind taking the calf up and whirling it round and round at the end of the rope, while the other end made the ring. On Tuesday morning the calf was able to walk, and is now all right." WALT WHITMAN. Builder of numbers vast and intricate! No feeble fantasies are born of thee; Thy poems are as potent as the sea Of human passion beating at the irate Of mortal being—Man of the low estate— Forth leaping in thy soul's necessity. Like to some tethered giant tearing free The galling fetters of ignoble fate! Gray bard thou seemst a relic of the days . When stalwart Shakspeare and Ben Jonson trod • The wines of wisdom from the vats of God, And drank the round world's undiluted praise: And yet thou art a target for the scorn Of these, the very days thou dost adorn. .; . iSSBSKS^fSISj^SiSS^v— N. Matthews. BEHIND THE CURTAIN. Brightly Gleams the Little Light, When the Stars Are Winking, Blink ing In the Sable Fires of Night, When the Busy Din of Business and the Many Oares of Men Are Forgotten in Tlielr Slum bers, Then Reporters Take Their Pen cils to Amuse the General Public When the Day has Come Again. There was a light in the window. The sight was an unusual one. The faint reflec tion fell upon the silent street and caused more than one passer-by to pause and look up at the third story, it was late at night, and the steady gleam of that window was solitary and startling. The busy city was hushed in the deep repose that contrasts so strongly with the mighty and noisy pulsing of a great mercantile heart, and up and down the shadowy, deserted thorough fare gleamed that solitary window. The slow, ponderous tread of the patrolman wakes the echoes, and the grim watchman of the night throws a wondering glance up ward as the window light meets his gaze. A wild, reckless laugh rudely jars the air as a party of midnight revelers passes, and alter Hie corner is turned, the echo of "shomebodish (hie) shink!" lingers in the street. Even they have noted that one window with unfaltering li<,'ht. A timid footfall scarcely disturbs the air, and with pale face, wild eyes and disheveled hai a girl slinks along and he .akes time to wonder at that light, while she crouches in a doorway until tlie even tread of the officer dies away. And still the light burns on and tlie win dow gives no sign. What can it be? In one corner of the room is a low pallet, on which are stretched the remains of a once proud v.nd vigorous manhood. Fever gleams iv the bright eye which is now moistened by a tear, and the thin, skeleton hands and sunken cheek tell of the ravage of a fatal disease. The seal of death on the pale brow could be seen by all but the devoted watcher—the fund and lovii.g wife whose years are flying with the hours as she sits bowed by the bed, burying her face in an agony of grief to conceal her misery. Two children have lost their cares and forgotten their hunger in the oblivion of sleep, and the lamp gleams and flickers, touches to diamond brightness the tear in the eye of the dying man—that tear the last mes sage of tlie soul ere its bark pots off into tlie unknown sea—and throws a faint light to the street below. A deep sigh trembles down through the room and the wife raises her head. A piercing shriek rings out, two children are startled into wakefulness and a slight form falls with a convulsive shiver on the dead body of her youth's dear love. The lamp flickers and dies away and darkness settles on the misery of one life's acts, and the wolf of want strides nearer the door. But tlie light gleams on tlie street, and it is some other scene it reveals. In tliis room the tide of life beats high and warm, "with banquet song and dance and wine. ' It is a handsome apartment, softly carpeted and richly furnished, and the lights gleam down from gorgeous chandeliers through soft stained glass. Colored waiters flit noiselessly about bear- ing costly wines and expensive cigars to a table, about which are seated sev en men. Conspicuous among them is a young man whose face and manner tell of a certain nervous want of sympathy with his surronndigs. lie lias eagerly grasped the five cards dealt him and is furtivelj watching the 1 faces abont him. The excitement runs high. lie has launched himself into the sport with reck less abandon and sees his coin swept away. The ex< itement passes and despair and re morse combine in their attack upon him. A moment of dejected quiescence and lie passes from the room, with its fumes of cigars and wine, leaving be iiind him tiie clink of the coin, the heartless laugh of the players, On the street he turns and looks up at the window and then passes slowly alonjj the street. But where? How will lie replace the money? But the window he sees is another one. The light gleams on steadily. The light looks down on a thoroughfare crowded by day, but now tenantless. A man and woman pass stealthily along and with a last glance up and down, enter a hallway and proced up stairs. She is clad in the height of the mode. Silks and fine raiment adorn her person, and the scintillating jewels in her ears are backed with tinsel paper. She wears a mask of pink and white never in tended for the garish light of day, and she calls him "baby." He is a prominent bookkeeper, and has been "de tained down town by a rush of business," but he has a guilty look and feels relieved when tliev have gained the friendly shelter of the hallway. The woman takes a key from her pocket, opens the door, and they enter a handsomely-furnished apart ment, from which the light streams down upon the street. A stealthy step has followed them up stairs but they are unconscious of it. Time passes and—a creaking sound is heard, and looking up, they see the face of a police sergeant peering over the transom. Ten minutes later a man and woman, under ar rest, are being escorted down street, the woman smiling defiantly, while the man, with shame and remorse, glances back where the light streams from the window. But this, too, is another window. What is the window and why the unusual light? At a table in the center of the room sits a young Mian writing. Burning thoughts pour in thick and fast upon him. and sheet ril'ter sheet of manuscript ilows from be neath his magic pencil. The hours pass, and still he toils and smiles as he toils. The thoughts that thrill his existence have been caught and chained in language, und at last his work is complete. lie is only a reporter and the lii'lii, so unusual, streams from the rooms of the Min neapolis Press club. And while be has worked the city lias slept and in the morn ing reads the history, which he, the faith ful chronicler, has burned the midnight oil in preparing. The columns of the paper are hurriedly scanned, but how much thought is given to the humble historian —the worker of the night, who skims oceans, climbs mountains and traverses continents to lay the history of the hour upon each breakfast table. The light in the window burns on and excites a feeble wonder, while in the minds of passers-by run the pictures given above. The lilted curtain shows only that devoted worker and wonder ceases. Curi osity, even, will cease when the glimmer ing light of his erratic life shall flutter and expire.. WAIt STORIES. Occurrences Just Previous to the Great Franco-Prussian War. The Emperor Napoleon, says Paris Figaro, believed he was sure, from what was told him, that all was ready, and as regards material this was true. Only one thing troubled him: If a war had to be made there was no man capable of directing it. In this state of affairs the council of min isters met. A decision bad to be come to. It was no longer possible to delay, and every one was perplexed, not seeing how to escape from this fatal necessity. Sud denly, at an hour already late—s or 6 o'clock—the Due de Grainmont said: "Here is what I propose: Call a con gress of the great powers, which will settle the dispute and enforce its decision. What ever it is. we shall be protected and war will be evaded. If the congress wishes the prince of Hohenzollern to reign in Spain we have nothing to fear from it. What the Spanish people are is known; they will not support him. His reign will be short and we shall have no ground tor self-re proach. Let us, then, hand over the de cision of this great affair to a congress. That means no longer war, but peace." No sooner was the proposal made than the expression on the faces of the ministers changed. All were enthusiastic. "It is deliverance," said the emperor. ' 'It is unanimously approved of. There is no use in making further inquiry until we have the congress. M. Ollivier," added the emperor, "this resolution must be at once communicated to the chamoers. They are still sitting, and you have time to go to the chamber of deputies. Go into the room at tiie side and draw up a short de claration, which you will read to us and then communicate to the chamber. I, how ever, will tell the president to continue the sitting." M. Ollivier entered the side room, and re mained there a long time, and, whether through fatigue or unwillingness, he, who generally was such an able writer, came back with an utterly unsuitable declaration, which met with approval from no one and which he himself confessed was insullicient. In consequence it was decided that thu matter should be delayed to the next day, ■hat M. Ollivier should prepare at leisure what was required, and that the document should be read next day in the chamber. A message was sent to the president that he might close the sitting, and the council separated after agreeing to meet next day at 9 o'clock, The emperof, on leaving the Tuilenes to go to St. Cloud, was cheered [by the crowd collected in the square and on the quay. The crowd called for war, without under standing all that it meant. On arriving at St. Cloud the emperor was surroundered by several persons, who had brought the news of the famous article inserted in the Ger man newspapers, in which it was stated that the King of Prussia had dismissed M. Benedetti, telling him that he had nothing further to add. Count Bismarck had calculated and published this false statement throughout all Germany, in order to compromise everything to force the hand of France and to bring on war. And he attained his object. f\ is needed, not much money— i\OVt^O "Wants" the comb that holds \JOfIOO the honey. Preferred Unknown Punishment. Merchant Traveler. The municipal census-taker was around takine names, and pulled the bell at Bliff stick's and Bliff came to the door. lie was put through the usual formula, and linally the censuser asked the age of his wife. •'Can't tell," responded the husband. "Can't tell?" echoed the questioner. .''Why? Don't you know?" "Of course I do." . "Then you must tell me. The law says you must." ♦The law? What law?" "The law of the state." "What will they do with me if I don't tell? "Put you iv jail for contempt." "All right; put me hi jail." "Why man," exclaimed the astonished official, "you won't go to jail and suffer rather than tell your wife's age, will you?" "Well yes," he said resignedly; "I've never been in jail, and on one occasion I did tell my wife's age." A Mania For Chickens. Rochester Post Express. Dobson—Well, Uncle Zeke. I'm glad to see you. The last time we met. I believe you were becoming very much interested in Neighbor Hood's chickens. Uucle Zeke — chile, an' 'twasn't long arterdat I got verymuchtakenup wid 'em, to my disgust. Dobson —How was that? Uncle —Why the cop collared me wid a bagful of them. Two Ladies of the House. Detroit Free Press. "Is the lady of the house in?" he asked as he stood on the steps of a residence in Cass avenue the other morning. "Which lady of de house?" asked the girl who answered the ring. "Why, are there two?" "Sartin. sir. If you want de white lady, she am out. If you has bizness with the cull'd lady, purceed to dewelop." LIFE'S CHIVALRY. Where in the busy city's care and strife, Its thirst for riches and its toil for bread, Is found that soul of chivalry in life Which sonic are mourningl for a3 truly dead? Shall we seek for it in the forest glade? In hoary dim cathedral, gray with age? In chancel where the mailed knights arc laid With rusted lance no further war to wajje? In mould'ring- castle or in ivied tower. Where pomp and pageantry were wont to be? Ah, no! But yet the ancient spirit's power Is with us and its form, if we would see; To labor cheerfully from hour to hour, To do good graciously is chivalry. —Chambers' Journal. SPURGEOFS TABERNACLE. The Great London Preacher In Ills Pulpit. His Methods, Manners and Church— How He Talks. A London correspondent of the New York Tribune says: Mr. Spurgeon and his Tabernacle are one of the sights of London, and nobody who "does" the city thoroughly fails to pay a visit to (his institution." The Tabernacle is in the Borough, as the part of the city on the Surrey side of the Thames is called, and faces tiie street called New ington Butts. 1 suppose the Btreet is SO named because there formerly was a rifle range in the neighborhood, but I could get no information on this point, although I made inquiries of several persons who ought to know, i walked to Newington Butts from St. Paul's, going by way of London bridge and the Borough High street. The most direct route would have been by Black friars bridge and Blackfriars road, but I was curious to go through the neighborhood of the bank and contrast the Sunday quiet with the week-day bustle in that crowded quarter. In the streets where a day or two before 1 had found it almost dangerous to attempt to cross, only now and then a 'bus or an occasional hansom was to be seen. The contrast was aiino>t startling. The great preacher's tabernacle is a solid looking structure, with no claim to be called handsome. There is a large portico in trout, supported by six massive columns, ihe evening service begins at 6:30. When 1 arrived it was 5:45J but already people were assembling on the sidewalk, and in a minute or two tue high iron gates were thrown back and the people were allowed to take places in the portico. Some stood in front of thu oak doors, while others sat on the steps or the pediment of the columns. The crowd gathered slowly. Meantime pew-holders and favored persons passed in by a side entrance. By o:ir> the portico was pretty weil filled, there being :ioo or 400 men and women in waiting. The doors wore not opened until seven minutes later, and by that time the crowd had nearly doubled. The live or six doors opening from the portico were thrown back at the same mo ment, and a rush was made fur the interior. There was some pushing and jostling, but not much. "Plenty of seats," cried an usher. "Go as far as you can." ".Room enough at the bottom;" said another, meaning near the pulpit. I got a good seat near the middle of the church (it is only a chapel here, however, in spite of its pretentious name), and while others were being seated had an op portunity to glance about me. The build ing is rectangular in Bhape, with two gailer ies running all the way around it. The windows are numerous and plain. The i, ras was lighted, but turned low. The odd est thing in the building is the pulpit. It is a small platform built out on a level with the bottom of the first gallery. A railing extends around it and a stairway runs up on each side. Within the railing are a ta ble and a red upholstered chair. Under neath this pulpit-platform and extending out a little distance is a small platform, some rive feet above the ground floor. lat first supposed that this was the place for the choir, but 1 found that there is no choir. Neither is there an organ or any other in strument. The singing is congregational, being led by what a young ruau who sat next to me called a "precentor." When I looked at the pulpit again the chair was occupied by a stoutfy-built man with ii on-gray hair and whiskers, rathei closely cut. When he arose a minute or two after (5:30, he was seen to be above the medium height and well-proportioned. He wore a black Prince Albert coat, unbut toned. He introduced the service with a brief but earnest prayer. The first impres sion was that of a simple, sincere, straight forward man; and the impression was strengthened as the service proceeded. His voice is easily heard throughout the huge building, and yet he speaks without appar ent effort. He announced a hymn, reading the, rirst stanza and repeating the first two lines; when that was sung he read the second stanza, and so on; reminding one of the frontier preacher who used to "line" the hymn, because the congregation were not all supplied with hymn books. The second hymn, however, Mr. Spur ceon read entire, but the third he took up stanza by stanza. This hymn, by the way, is a favorite and familiar one in. revival meetings. Before reaching the third or fourth stanza the preacher said: "The next verse very softly; therefore let only the sisters'voices be heard;" and so it was sung through by the women alone. After the rirst hymn came a scripture lesson, with plentiful comments. The preacher never hesitated for a word, and rarely selected a wrong one. The second hymn was followed by a prayer, which was long and impetu ous. Mr. Spurgeon at first leaned partly upon the railing: then lie would grasp it with both hands; at intervals he would raise one hand or both in gestures. There were half audible "amen-s" and similar ejaculations hero and there in the congrega tion, which was composed of respectable people of the middle cless, I should say. After the third hymn the preacher put on his spectacles and read his text. Then he laid them aside, stepped forward to the railing and began to talk in a simple, easy fashion. There was no ranting. His ges tures were emphatic but not numerous, and in good taste. The only mannerism iv ges ture that I noticed was that several times he raised his right hand to his head and seemed to push back his hair. His lan guage was plain and easily understood, even by people below the average intelli gence. Saxon words predominated and all the sentences were short. There were no rounded periods, "i hate oratory," he said. "1 go down as low as I can. High flying and line language seems to me wicked when souls are perishing." He said that large numbers of people in London did not go to hear preaching, adding: "And a good deal of the preaching isn't worth hearing. It is in what may be called Latinized En glish. They ought to use the good old Anglo-Saxon mother tongue." All his illustrations were of the simplest kind, drawn from every-day life. He de scribed in a most vivid manner the reading of a will to the heirs and relatives of a deaf man; and later he told how he had stood not long ago under a beech tree, in which he saw a squirrel, and contrasted his feel ings toward the tree with those of the squirrel, who made his home thero and lived on the nuts. His only classical allus ion was to Ulysses and the sirens. He used one odd word, convincement; and once he reversed the usual mode of expression, re marking quaintly: "Say I then this much and I have done." He pronounced "filled" in two syllables—lill-ed. To impress the points of his sermon on his hearers he found in his text a precept, a proverb and a prom ise—certainly easy things to remember --Ho also urged his people to hear attentively and retentively. Some of his expressions were singular,but no doubt characteristic and well suited to his auditors. "May God's spirit come to home grips with you." "What you fish for you shall catch." "The best preaching of the gospel is when the preacher enjoys it." He said there was "a cornucopia in the hand of God," and spoke of "stepping away from the preaching." He used the expression, "liun in and get a snack, 1' and advised his people to "take their regular spiritual meals. No soul is fed on music," etc. "I have great pleasure in obliging people who want to find fault with my preaching," he said at one time. "If you want to you can find plenty of faults to find." The sermon lasted just forty minutes. The gas was not turned up until five min utes before it ended, although it had grown dusky and the preacher's face could not be distinctly seen. The sermon ended, Mr. Spurgeon said: "I will give you a benedic tion," and did so while the people bowed their heads instead of standing. The clos ing was rather abrupt. The service occu pied an hour and a half, and the congrega tion slowly dispersed, some staying behind to attend a prayer meeting. HOW TO I'KOSOIACE IT. As Mick and Biddy walked one day A pleasant valley through, Said he. "A kiss I'll steal away;" Said Biddy, "Mickey do." Then, hesitating, Mickey said, "I hardly think I ough'to;" But Biddy coyly hunjr her head And coaxing said, "Mick, aw do."