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16 SCOTTISH CROFTERS IN THEIR HOMES. They Earn lint Little More Than Enough to Meet (he Land lord's Demand. LSEARY, LONESOME BUSINESS. ■ . There Is but Little Romance About the Crofter's Every-Day and Home Life- Girls Who Have ■ to Join the Herring - Curer's ■Crew: During : the Summer Months— What a Crofter's Home Is Like. Special to Tax Sunday Cali. . .- " . -. ' tT - — 1 ' "', -BEWICK (Shetland), Oct 2, J. [ . Whatever may be the r. -S average tourist's Impressions . V f f~l from passing glimpses of croft ' J'l J ( * ers' communities, crofters' t__ -A homes and the crofters them * selves, 1 believe l-ne who passes some timo ' among them cannot turn from them to his own world of brightness ar.d i regress with •' out a genuine sense of sadness fur their permanent, hopeless condition. It is un questionably true that ihe "Crofters' Act" • of 1886 was a just and benefi ent measure. . "Fair rents" have been almost universally fixed; arrears impossible .of liquidation • have been either wholly canceled or largely : reduced; and personal freedom as a man, subject and Voter has been established. . .The . Crofters' Commission has already ■righted countless wrongs to which tlie crofter had been subjected for nearly a century aud a half; and it may be truthfully ■ said that all has been done for this High l.-.nd . groundling that ever can be d.no • under the present land system of Great Britain, individual owners are so few, * such vast tract?, especially ir the north and * west of of Scotland, have been permanently transformed into game preserves, such ' insignificant' and ir adequate holdings are iv • the crofters' lossessibn under Hip new* order ' * of things; and communities of these people . are.so lew*," and these so meager iv numbers, -that betterment to these Highlanders as a class 3c(-ms Impossible. As stated in a previous article, the process of 'thinning them out of, or their actual ex .' tinction from, tremendous area* had been . so,tho. ou2h by the owners of lff*hland es . tates, that lew crofters were lelt to receive '..'benefits. I'he tenacity with which, despite .' ail sacrifice and terror, these fe* clung to ■ ' their mountain homes, is a woudeiful tribute to .. ; : . '■ LOVE OF HOME-I.ANn, • "which, in. a hardy race like the Highland :.• crolt.< could have been turned to infinitely ■'..better account by Scotland, and even Scot tish landlords, than could the rentals from ■sportsmen tenants. . This sentiment is so " strong and deep a ono to-day among Scottish people of ail .sections that here is a notice . . able .growing and stubborn demand for : "land division," "kind reform," and even in some quarters for "nationalization .• of the: lanu." .Many intelligent crofters seem . confident that some form of legislation . will s- me time give them adequately large . holdings. An idea is certainly gaining " ground that at least sportsmen will go out and Hieep-iaiiing return. ' Sentiment is not •■wholly responsible for this. The first ex periment by. the great highland land-hold ers, after the barbarous clearances of the Highlanders, was in sheep-raising. This ..• was successful, and, in consequence, the clearances were. largely condoned by a most '. important class in Scotland; men 'who assist -. in making and unmaking Parliament. These • ., were the Lowland farmers. Countless thou sands of Highland sheep, reared in the north, . were annually driven through the Gram .. pian passes, l and before reaching the . shamble's wintered- by Lowland .farmers, .-.who tnus secured profitable disposal of •': immense quantities of produce. Since the .- British sportsmen got possession of the • northern and western glens, Highland * sheep lave become practically extinct. • - Therefore -what the Highland estate owners * have gained by game the Lowland farmers have immeasurably more than lost. ■' The ',' latter have .no pity. fur the crofter on his own. account, but ■ they know in a direct,. •_ hard-headed nay th it he aud his collie dog are the .best shepherds In. the world. So '.'these and some other pressing . economic **: forces are gradually bl tiding the "crofter ■ question " and the " land .question" in Scot .land,. and providing an ec< nomic.question . •; which may at least reach that form of legis . : lation which will break down 'the now 7 in ■ visible jet inflexible walls of these great Highland*, estates, and.cause the repeopling of tin ir grand mountain sides and glens. But that can hardly come to the "grave, sad • eyes of the crofter who now lives. And it is *:' this tnftn whose condition,- environment .and' . .bome.-liffe.l have set out to describe. . * " • Whether he lives in the same cabin where : his forefathers lived 'before : him, or is one •who has been "removed" from the old . home-to' some new and* worthless patch * ground for the larger liberty of deer, he' is - never the possessor, as tenant, of more than ,' thirty' acres of land, while nine-tenths of .. the entire class do not occupy more than five. In some instances be has an "outrun". . or "common grazing" • with,, others, where ..from twenty to ' thirty sheen and two or . three cows may be grazed, and when this is ...so, be Is -considered very well.off. ; • •* TO FIXD HIM is THIS CONDITION fl Is the rarest exception; and ordinarily his • miserable patch of soil, of from say two to six acres, scarcely affords him' the barest ■ means of- livelihood. For this tiny croft he • pays au average rental of £6 under the new •''fair rent" system, and under the old "rack rent" regime he tried to pay, -but never * paid, from £10 to £15 and £20. With the ■ certain uncertainties of Highland climate In .mimi, no one can for a moment believe it possible/ for a crofter to pay even the' re duced rent, and sustain himself and family •irom- the results of his labor upon the soil • sb ne, - 1 believe It would be a truthful asser • tion that the croft in no single instance ever .sustained the crofter. It will not sustain him under the "fair rent" system of to-day. The landlord now gets nearly the utmost limit of what' the soil it-elf can produce. '•• The salvation of the crofter can only be at tained by providing him with larger crofts, so that the labor of himself and family may .-* be concentrated where most profitable re sults can obtain.; or rentals for the beggnrly . putijh he is foiced to exist upon must be re duced t-i almost a nominal sum. A prosper . ous peasantry is impossible where the ener . gies ol the family are dissipated In a half ' dozen different vocations to -simply pay rent • that a thatch may be' kept over the beads of • the very old and very young of the family. Briefly, that is tbeconditiuuof the crofter, and it is all that is, or ever has been, the 'matter. with him.'. To merely exist he has • been forced into becoming fisher, kelp-gath erer,'poacher; anything to live., Ills wife . becomes fisher, : "gutter,"or dresser of her rings at the seaside, mussel-gatherer, or does any tortuous labor possible to add pound or • * shilling to tfie store for meeting the inexora '. ble demand of the rent. The daughters are forced from home into service, and their al tered condition and needs deprive them of '•■both their love of the. Highland home and the power to bestow more than a pittance upon its keeping. The sons become gillies 1 1 Highland sportsmen* with a few weeks of demoralizing luxury and ten months of idleness and unrest; or better, though still • bad, are crowded to the towns to further im poverish labor there; or perhaps in the end, best, reach Canada or the States, where for yeais the little saved beyond a bare living finds its. way back to the crofter father and eventually to the landlord for rent. As a rule the oldest eon marries and remains at . home. He seldom has the inclination or the means to "hive off" and set up housekeep . . log on another croft, and besides it is the in flexible policy of Highland landlords to re strict, rather than increase croft holdings.. . This leads to. a subdivision of the already • Inadequate home-croft and two families, in stead one, repeat an intensified struggle for existence, . INCREASING the EVIL* , And giving warrant for the ever-recurring landlord cry of "congested crofter dis tricts," while millions of acres of land, idle • save for its use to sportsmen, are sweeping away Into almost impenetrable wildernesses around them. . ■■- , ■ .In-all the, crofter settlements, established at the different occasions of "clearance"," there is little of interest save the unvarying desolation of environment and every-day * life. -■ This class of. critters are* the most' mulch..-.-, voiceless people that I've. ■ Fring ing the entire.- northeastern, northern. and • northwestern . coasts _of Scotland may be. ■-', found hamlets of this class. There is not the sound of mirth, the tone of content or the look., of hope to be. heard or seen in one. _ The land is barren," the sea-coast is grewsome and dreary, the habitations are " wretched,' fishing is ? : precarious and " the entire life of tliese people Is a ceaseless, sunless effort to live. *: It is' only in. the glens, on the mountain-sides, within* the Bl ._«■« itiifiiiflimrii Siriimir • ■airtriimrii nirTHir—tfmr'i straths, clustered in the upland cor ries or hollows, or here and there nes tled bj the side cf mountain lochs and rivers, "a here the "removals" nnd "clear ances," like some wild mountain tempest, swept over the old Highlanders without annihilating all their homes, that the crofter ol old, the crofter of song and story and tourists' tales. . may yet be found. He is grave and silent in his loneliness; but about this child of the mist lingers nearly all that remains of Highland tradition, folk-lore and picturesqueness of environment. The sin gle, lonely, isolated croft is too dreary for winsomencss. But you will now and then come upon an old "clachan," where three or foor, or perhaps half a dozen, crofts nestle in a corrie together, are huddled under the friendly protection of some precipitous crag, or are grouped like brown gypsy tents be neath the strong arms of primeval trees; and here life and customs are in many re spects very primitive ihdeed. The "auld clachan," aside from so uni versally being tho hamlet-home of the crofter, it is worthy of attention ou Its own account. The word is occasionally a mis nomer among Scottish people themselves, as applied to any ancient and picturesque hamlet of a hall-score or so quaint old houses. Clachan has a more ancient aud honorable signification, lt is a pure Gaelic woul meaning "a circle of stones." The clachau was the fane or place of worship of the pagan Caledonians. When Christianity was introduced the missionaries from lona very wisely planted the cross within the sacred clachan. In time little chapels, and finally churches, followed. Houses grew up around these, aud then the tiny church place or hamlet itself took the name of the spot where the old pagan rites were ouce celebrated. It is interesting, too, to note '.'ow exactly identical is the Gaelic of the crofter Highlander of to-day with that of his heathen ancestors of ISOO cr 2000 years ago. lustead of asking his neighbor in Gaelic, "Are you going to church to day?" he will ask, "ABB rOU GOING TO TIIE STONES?" (Am bheil thu'dol don clachan)? The quaintest bits of primitive architecture in all Scotland are to be found in these quaint old nests. The pagan clachan is gone; the chapels and churches— fcr they were of th sort iconoclast Cromwell did not like— were lons ago razed to the ground. But if you have the archaeological instinct .you can find bits of ciosses, cinerary urns and sacrificial stones built into house- alls, just as you will find at Bowness-on-Solway, Unman altars and first-century Human inscriptions iguo bly set in pig-sties and byres. A vitrified fort will often he discovered near at hand. Huge cromlechs and menhirs, marking pagan burial-places, are never far away. And there is always within,' or just witliout, that clelt of rock whence has trickled for centuries the crystal stream which in Co liimb's days was ever blessed and sacred. Because the clachan and croft have almost always been inseparably connected tlvre is little wonder thai the crofter clings lovingly to these weird old places; that his manner has become subdued and grave from endless feeding upon the Gaelic lyric of a mystic past; or ihat the forgivable superstitions and wraiths which cling about these eerie spots have wrought very many fantastic fancies within the warp and woof of bis spiritual nature. There is little romance about the crofter's every-day and borne Ufa .if. he can make his rent partially from his land, lie tills it in the hard old primitive way, with tho rudest of tooN: and in Skye, the Hebrides, in re mote parts of the North and here in Shet land the cr poked wooden spade, or earth fork, is still to be seen; If he cannot lie is forced to leave lie croft to the care ot his wife and . children and turn fisherman. Often his wife and grown daughter leave the croft aud join the ln-rritig-curers' crows on the coast lor several months of the sum mer. • His subsistence gained from the croft is always precaiious; aud were it not that his wants are few he could not live at all. His principal crops are oats and potatoes; but ' often the variable nature of the climate ren ders a steady return doubtful. Often the oats fail to ripon. Again, when they mature, the little crop is frequently destroyed by rain. Potatoes of late year-, occasionally blight or rot. When both the oats and potatoes fail, actual famine comes. By the greatest vigi lance enough grass may be cured for the long winter supply for the few animals ; but there is always peat to be had for the one bright spot in all the crofter's life, the great, open fire-place of his cal in. Alter the cows are milked in the morning, the younger children, accompanied by the collie "dog, set out to herd them, for the crofts are seldom inclosed. Old coats or. jackets are thrown over their slioulders, nud they listlessly move about like a bevy of automatic scare crows, keeping the cattle* or sheep within bounds the whole day lons. B"| DREARY, LONESOME BUSINESS THIS, In the old days or in these days, but of late some of thesoddenness of this life is being relieved by the books good folk have put in the youthful herders' bunds, and the winter school is gradually opening a new world to their eacer, childish eyes. It is customary where there are only one or two beasts To "t«ther" them with chain or rope. The horse or "sheitie." if the crofter has me, is also "hobbled" Some times half a dozen sheep will be. tethered by day and put into the sheep-cot at night. Such croft sheep are universally called pets. The world has heard of the famous "pet lamb case", between the great American deer-stalker W. L..Winans, who controls a gamepreserve of over 250,000 acres, ami the shoemaker of Kintail. 'i ha shoemaker's only lamb strayed from tin* highway, tres passed on the great man's aire;., was pounced upon and slaughtered by a game keeper; and finally caused an action at law that agitated the hole of Great Britain and became the subject of many an* eloquent outburst in and out of the liouse of Com mons. The crofter's home is often a sod hut with a sod thatch. More frequently it con sists.of four low wniis of apparently un cemented stones, with a thatch of straw or fir-branchrs and straw, held In it- place by stones anchored from the eaves by straw ropes. The structure usually incloses but one room. .There js a low. wide door, per haps a window or two, but. in some cases only a "boa!," or square ape:ature for ad mitting light aod air, will be found, A bunk answers for a bed for the old folks. The children are disposed of in the loir. A few rude benches or square blocks of stone uear the fire-place answer for seats. A spinning wheel, here- and there a hand-loom, more or less fishing-gear, some iron pots, a little earthenware, and often the square wooden diinkin^-cups, or " mothers of tho ancient Gaels will be found. A few of the. more fortunate crofters may possess a " but and ben" house, that is, a house with two rooms, when "gancin' but" or "hen" Is the aristocratic possibility. The crofter's food almost universally comprises porridge and milk, and perhaps bread and tea, for breakfast. At dinner he may have a ban nock of rye with an egg. The supper will be the breakfast repeated without tea. Sometimes the dinner is varied by herrings and potatoes. He is a total stranger to fruit, as wo know it, though there ore sometimes a few wild mountti n berries to be got. He is utterly devoid of amusements. The old Highland camen have entirely disappeared in the Highlands. In the old days the "ceilidh" (pronounced "kailoy ") or gossip ing party, occupied the hug winter even ings, lt lingers still where the clergy's sharp eyes do not too often come; and in it are whisperingly preserved all the old tales of clan and tartan, witch and warlock, and the sweeter folk-lore of this tender-hearted, long-suffering, hospitable, hopeless people. Copyright.* Edgar 1.. Wakuiax. SAVED ill BUI'S LIFE. Then, %a Flagman McKigney I. raped, He MVna Killed by the Locomotive. Edward McKigney, a lineman at the Grove-street cro.-sing of the Pennsylvania Itailroad in Jersey City, was killed yester day morning. Since the lailroad company began to elevate the tracks iv the city there have been no gates at the i rossings, but the number of guards Ims been quadrupled to prevent accident. McXigney wns one of the new men. lie had been employed in a foundry for twenty-five years, and had ac cumulated sufficient property to live on for the remainder of his life. He had also raised a family, and their earnings made it possible for him to give up his employment in the foundry and take life easy. Thomas Tennant, the trackmaster on the Jersey City division of the road, an old friend of McKigney, suggested that he might take the place of flagman to occupy bis lime aud add something to his income. About 9:30 o'clock yesterday morning a west-bound express train approached the crossing at a moderate speed. McKigney and his fellow flag-men stood on either side of the crossing waving their flags. A boy darted behind McKigney, and was on the track before the latter saw him. A warn ing shoutl from the other flagman attracted the attention of both, and without a mo ment's hesitation McKigney Jumped for ward, seized the boy ami hurled hun out of the way of the approaching train. As he was in the act ot leaping from the track himself the locomotive caught him. He was dashed to one side and killed almost in stantly. The boy escaped, and was probably so badly frightened that he did not return to learn either the name or the tale of ids rescurer. | It was said that lie wore a mes senger's uniform, but neither the Western Union nor the American District Company, the only concerns in Jersey City which em ploy uniformed messengers, has been able to learn that it was any of ils employes. Mc- Klguey's body was * taken to his home, I'M Itailroad avenue.-X. Y. Sun. * .-MBI • The Richard Wagner Monument Commit tee in Leipsic has accepted the design sub mitted by Professor Schiller of Berlin, and has received permission from the city au ; thorities to erect the statue ou * the Old Theater place, a fe* step from Wagner's old home.** "ou the Bruhl." 'lhe figure will cost £13,000. THE Morning call, san francisco, SUNDAY. November 30. 1890-SIXTEEN pages. THE WORLD'S EXPOSITION. The Chicago Columbus Tower to Be Finished ia 1893. Ssorstiry Dickinson's Flan for a Military Display— The True nature and Object of Ths Great Exposition. fSyniCAGO, Nov. 27, 1890.— Although *yy| the past week [has been a busy and I— ',' exciting one, progress has nut been rapid. The Directors are troubled at pres ent with the apportionment of the buildings. The Lake Front is again the bone of conten tion. Why it is not once for all abandoned Is hard for outsiders to learn. Why it was ever considered as part of the site is to mauy a great puzzle. Several of the National Commissioners areconcemed build ings now mentioned for that place. How ever, no trouble should be borrowed on that account, as the fair proper will be placed at Jackson and Washington parks, and the agricultural and live-stock show will have all the advantage of being placed alongside of the greatest attractions. Herewith is presented a picture of the Chicago Columbus Tower, of which mention was male In a recent letter. It will be com pleted In 1893, and will be 1500 feet high by 480 feet at the base, joustructcd of steel and iron, and supported by sixteen great arched legs. The architecture is of modern Ratals •ance style, and it was designed by Messrs. Kinkel & Polk of Chicago. It will require over 7000 tons of steel and 0000 tons of iron. Its estimated cost is 52,000,000. In the cen ter will be a large dome 200 feet wide and 200 feet high. This is calculated for con cert and theatrical purposes, with a seating capacity of 25,000 people. The walls and canopy will be richly decorated in Oriental style. Eighteen elevators, with a capacity of fifty people ca h, will make twelve trips an hour. Only two elevators will run a dis tance of 1250 feet. Many will take ad vantage of the trip. Here money will se cure passage for at least a short journey in the direction which all would like to travel. At the landing willbe a large restaurant, where the travelers can rest and lunch be- fore returning to earth again. At the apex will bs a great globe of 33 feet in diameter, provided with 10 powerful electric lights,* which will be obs?rvahlo fifty miles dis tant Admission fee will be 25 cents, 00 cents to 400 feet and Sl to top. When com pleted it will be 500 feet higher than the Eiffel Tower In Paris, and the greatest architectural construction erected in the history of man. It will be the pi ide of the American continent and one of the most at tractive features of the great exposition. ■ Lieutenant H. A. Heed of Leavenworth, 7 Kans., Is strongly in favor of Secretary Dickinson's plan for a military display at tin- opening, and would extend the time to about twenty days. He allots the time as follows: Presuming that as mnch of the United States army as the President may permit, of foreigners who may come and all the Na tional Guard who may desire are assembled, I should assign them to three distinct camps of cavalry, artillery and infantry, irrespect ive of Stales or nationalities, and would ar range days aud exercises somewhat as fol lows: , First and second— Devoted to encampment Destroying tho Pyramid*. The Bosphore Egyptien announces a new act of astounding vandalism, which that amiable journal does not hesitate to insinu ate is connived at by the Egyptian Govern ment. Three gangs of workmen, under two local sheiks, are daily extracting blocks from the lower courses of the two largest pyramids of Gizeh. These are broken up on the spot and carried away on camel-back for building purposes.: The sheiks allege that they are doing this work of destruction by permission of the Government; whereas they have, it is said, obtained only a permit authorizing them to -remove scattered blocks. That these Arabs should exceed their license is not surprising; but it is surely, to say the least of It,* extraordinary thata Government partly administered by Europeans should have anted such powers to native overseers, - unchecked . by the presence of one of their own officials. '1 he pyramids do not belong to the Khedive nor to his Government; they do not even belong to the Egyptians. They are the Inheritance of the world.— London Times. •■:■':. The Knights of Pythias are so well drilled that they could • put an army of 50,000 men Into the field at two weeks' notice. . duties; all the duties incident to the estab lishment of an army in bivouac in the field, with guards, etc. - Third— Company drills, separate parades and guard mountings for each arm on its own ground. : Fourth— Battalion drills, grand parade and guard mounting, all arms invited on the en campment grounds; all will probably have arrived by this time. Fif th— Street parade. Sixth— misli drills. This will fit the National Guard lor what is to follow. Seventh— formations for attack and defense. ■■-,•*** ■ Kighth— Attack and defense of a position with infantry and artillery only. Not a sham battle as ordinarily conducted, but one on military principles. Ninth— The same, of greater extent, and with all arms. The troops will be in good condition by this time. Tenth— Grand review by the President or his representative. Eleventh (Oct. 12th)— The formal dedica tion of buildings and grand military ball. Twelfth, thirteenth and fourteenth — Knights of Pythias a.id zouave drills, elec tric light drills, etc. - The forenoon, except on the first, second, fifth, tenth and eleventh days, when all day CHICAGO'S COLUMBUS TOWER. is devoled to the special exercise, should be occupied by competitive drills. The committee appointed by the National Congress to investigate the condition of World's Fair matters are at present in the city performing their task. As yet they re fuse to express any opinion, but "apparently arc very well satisfied. At present the city Is full of strangers gaining information to enable them to at once begin preparations for the fair. The officials are constantly interviewed. The decisions of the present week aro anxiously awaited. For the first time since the proposal of the Columbian Exposition the true character and object of the enterprise is beginning to be fully understood. From Its first concep tion the promulgator of the .scheme meant it to he in the broadest sense of the term a world's exposition, in which all nations of the earth should equally participate, and as far as possible become equally interested. It is the celebration of the greatest discovery in the history of the human family, and one which has proves more or less beneficial to all people. In view of that fact It was pro posed that the exposition should bo com mensurate with the occasion It commem orates. Aside from that feature It affords for the first time an opportunity for the nations to amicably assemble, each to bring forth and place for compar ison tho productions of their skill and handiwork, showing the point to which their people have advanced, while the centuries have come and gone, in a sense the Colum bian Exposition will be a vast Cnsmpolitan University, where the nations will become voluntary pupils and the work of their han dicraft serve as object lessons for the study and benefit ot all. It will form a universal society and reception, to which all the hu man (amity are invited, regardless of caste, creed or color. The children from the East can meet these from the North, South and West, and each can learn of the advancement and progress which his fellow man lias made on his respective portion of the globe. Here will be achieved a peace conquest, more potent in its influence, more beneficial and far-reaching in its results, than all the victories gained in the history of wars. The occasion is opportune and will be a mighty factor in bringing about that feeling of uni versal brotherhood, which in time will result in " the Parliament of man, the federation of the world." It properly is an Interna tional institution, in which all should par ticipate. Its coming will be an Intellectual banquet, from which all will depart to their distant homes feeling it was good for them to have been there. All national strife and sectional lines should for the while at least vanish, and that littleness of soul give place to the more generous disposition of human interest In humankind, j. b. Campbell Carolina Unrichnl. The life of Caroline Hersche', one would imagine, was anything but favorable to long lasting. Insufficient sleep, irregular and hasty meals, long fasts, excessive toil, both bodily and mental, were the conditions of her life— at least during the fifteen years she was her brother's housekeeper and astro nomical assistant. A lady who devoted her self to hard work, one of the necessities of which was that she had to spend the whole of every stairy night, covered with dew or hoar frost, on a grass plat in the garden, would not, one would think, lie likely to make old bones. At the age of »>, however, according to her nephew's account, 'she skipped up two flights ol stairs and rail about like a girl of 20. She died at the age of 08.— All the Year Bound, y • V. Suffering From Urown Ooltors. ., In : the county of Surry, or at least in a i certain part of it, we have two remarkable j diseases, to wit: "St Vipers, his dance," | and the "brown gaiters." The terms needs I no explanation, but I may casually observe that the "brown gaiters" aro known to or- I dinary persons as "bronchitis.— and 1 Queries, yyfly flflflflfl THE DANCING BEAUTY. A Sage Disquisition on What lie. comes of the Ballet-Girls. TLt-y Have Been Known to Viv.* ecus Talk of One Who Knows Lights and Ehvlcws. Glimpses Behind Stage Tinsel. T<_.':|^ nAT becomes of the ballet-girls? rail/ ' iero is a superstition prevalent Vmjm l;A among a certain class of old-timers having a maximum of cheek and a minimum of hair that the ballet-girl never dies, never ceases to be a "girl," and never quits danc ing. .They are ltd to this conclusion from the close observation of years in the front rows at the physical drama. But then this is a biased judgment. | Certain it is that nobody ever saw a dead ballet girl. But who, except those who have been In tbe army, where mules were sometimes killed, ever saw a dead mule? What becomes of mules? Do they gradually grow old and wither away at a breath?' It Ib true there is no parallel between a ballet-dancer and a mule beyond the fact that loth are well known as eccentric kick ers and as tough as Joey B. II the induce ment of assured perennial youth were not sufficient this fact of never ceasing to exist in the garish atmosphere of the footlights is enough to attract the rising female genera tion, it Is the fate of womanhood in the ordinary walks of life to marry and become old. if they do not marry they nr^soou old anyhow, and are a neglected, if not a de spised, lot. she's always admired. Not so the ballet-girl. She may be mar ried or not— and she frequently is lhe mother of a family of young kickers— .-he may be 15 or 50, or anywhere along between those in teresting extremes— she always ■ has her share of admirers. * If fairly good looking she has many of them. Why men wiii sac rifice restful nights, money, sweethearts, Wives, at the shrine of the ballet-girls is oue of those mysterious -things to be decided after this life. But it is a fact that they, will, and do, and a fact quite well known to the ballet-girl herself." Who has 1 not, for that matter, at some period of his life lin gered wistfully in the 'shadow of .the stage door? fl'-""' The ballet-girl may be said to remind ns of a mule in another respect — she is born and not made. No woman born was ever molded over into a ballet-girl. She may be-: come a famous actress—she may be made into a lay figure' for the spectacular, get a job as a chorus-girl, or have a thinking part in a modern farce comedy— become a ballet-girl, never! You might as well talk of taking a brakesman off the railroad and turning him into a contortionist. . ONE BEAUTY'S STORY. . "My mother was a dancer before me," said one charming young ballet-girl the other evening. She reierred to the fact wlliasi,-h. Hie hart done a matinee and evening turn at Palmer's iv tlie "Bed Hus sar" and was polishing off a lunch of broiled chicken and beer. . Her appetite is enough to throw a sickly shade of green over the worn-out men-of-the -world who can scarce ly eat a single square meal a day. "I began dancing when 1- was a mere child. My mother was dancing with the grown-up ballet as lam now. 1 danced in children's parts. You might say I was a born dancer, for my mother had been filling an engagement, which she resumed as- soon as possible. " Yes, mother is living now, but not danc ing," she- laughingly retorted in answer to the stereotyped joke, "so that disposes of at least one blanch of the popular supersti tion. She. is too Stout One of the evils of the' many we have to contend with Is the early tendency to stoutness. When you first saw me I was a slender slip of IT; now look at me 1". She has undeniably broadened and thick ened* during these six years, though the change improves her personal appearance. STOPS- AT TWENTY-TnREE. . "If I keep on growing stouter I shall have to diet myself, and that will break my heart. I'm now 23— don't give it away. * I wish to remain 23, see ?" "' "What-- becomes of the girls? Oh; some are with the Kiralfys. Emilia's with some show in the West; -Kate is married, so is Sophy, and— " ■ "No, no: : what becomes of them finally ?" "Why, dear me! how do 1 know? Die and fo to heaven? * Not if there's dancing there, • hope, It is quite enough to be a balle.t glll here all your life! Nearly all of the girls I knew when a child dancer are still alive and kicking. In fact, I don't actually know if any of them are dead. They are about all in the business, too." "Yes, tliey have a good many offers of marriage. Some marry*, but they nearly all get back to the stage. The girls can't stand the yoke very well, you see. The quietude of married life would so, kill most of them. We get awful tired of this, but from the ex periences of those who have quit (he stage to marry, I should say there are worse things. If marriage is the thing it's cracked up to lie, why do they all come back? Answer me that!" MATRIMONIAL PHILOSOPHY. Her black eyes fairly snapped. Sho had evidently been considering the matrimonial problem on her own account. The next ob servation of this philosophical maiden made that certain. " The trouble is that the kind of a man I would have is the kind who will probably never ask me to nmrrv him, anil the kind who docs ask 1 wouldn't have. That's it— up to date! Having been born and bred to this business, I scarcely know how I would manage to live any other way. But, dear me! There are two sides to this matter. Look nt the kind of men we meet! What sort of a hur.band is a man likely to make who gets wild over the ballet? Why not give us credit for some womanhood; with some tastes, good desires, feelings, ambition, the same as is accorded other girls who must work for a living? These same girls, who are spoken of contemptuously as only ballet girls, are niacin of better stuff than most women of good society. - Now, I do wish yon would say a good word for us," plead ingly. "There Is rarely anything printed about us except slurs, insinuations ami con temptuous sneers about our calling. Not that it really makes any difference, because it doesn't. Only it, would be refreshing to read something different." THE SALARY PART OF IT. The ballet busiuess with tho ' Red llus sar' is easy for us," went on the ballet girl; " I mean compared with our work with the Kiralfys. Tlv re is no danger of growing over stout with the Kiralfys. When the lumbers were at outs and fighting, each other they used to bid for us to keep us away from one another. But they made us work hard, for the ballet was always the principal feature. Good dancers In any con siderable number are hard to get in this country, and two big spectacular shows like the ballet at the Madison-sqnnre Garden and 'Nero' use up nearly all the material. That is the reason you see In the front near ly all of the samegirls. "We have only two short dances here, and it is considered a good engagement. - We get $20 a week. The . chorus-girls get 815. Any kind of a pretty girl can be -put in a chorus. We never have anything to do with them, on or off the stage! (This with some snow of- pride.) They are probably very nice girls, though. The managers know all of us, and they make engage with us the same as are made with actors and act resses for the presentation of the regular drama." But what a life To those who must live it the thing is a matter of course. To nine tent lis of the mothers : and fathers of the great world of quiet homes tlio spectacle of these young girls amid such daily and nightly associations would carry with it the sentiments of profound sorrow . and com miseration.— T. Murray, in Pitts burg Dispatch. : HENRY CLAY'S PICTURE. A Painter Who Did Justice to (he Great Orator's Mouth. On one occasion he said :. to me: '. "Mr. Healy, you are a capital portrait painter and you are the first who has ever done justice to my mouth, and It Is well pleased to ex press ■ Its gratitude." : (.'lay's mouth was a very peculiar one— thin-lipped and extend ing from car to ear. : "But," be added, "you are an Indifferent courtier; though you come to us fiom the French King's presence, you have not once spoken to me of my live stock. Don't you know that I am prouder of my cows and sheep than of my best speeches I confessed my want of knowledge on the subject, but I; willingly accompanied him around the grounds and admired the superb creatures, saying they .would do very well j in a picture. / 1 fear that that was not : tim sort of appreciation he expected, and that I sank very low in his esteem from that mo ment. -2* '• .* -"■ *. ■; ' ".- y :•• -"■.-■• . »:.'.*■: .-.v. * But on another occasion I proved a worse courtier still. His jealousy of * Jackson ;is stilt known, and the t»o men formed a very striking contrast."; During a long silting he spoke of his old rival,' and, knowing that I had just painted the dying man's portrait, he said: • - "You, who have lived so long abroad, far from • our political contests and quarrels, ought to bean impartial judge. : Jackson, during bis lifetime, was held up as a sort of hero; now that hois dead bis admirers want to make him out a saint. Do you think he was sincere?" "1 bavo just come from his death-bed," I answered, "and if General Jackson was not sincere, then I do .not know the meaning of the wcril.'iaSimßlWtffeWqgHP*-"- 11^ 1 shall never forget the keen look shot at me from under Mr. Clay's eyebrows; but he merely observed : . - "I see that you, liko all who approach that man, were fascinated by him." Another time a friend of Mr. Clay, Mr. Davis, speaking of Jackson's provarbial ob stinacy, said that ono day, looking at a horse, Jackson remarked : "That horse is seventeen feet high." "Seventeen hands you mean, General.". "What did I say?" "You said seventeen feet" "Then, by the eternal, he Is seventeen feet high." Clay would never have sworn to the sev enteen feet. He knew how to make himself loved as well as admired. . After his defeat by Polk he refused to see any one. It was with great difficulty that his friends obtained his presence at a banquet given in his honor. ' When he entered the diniug-hall, where 200 guests were assembled, no one present was able to restrain his tears, so popular was Mr. Clay and sn great was the disappoint ment at not having him for President.— G. P. A. Healy, in the North American He view. THE SOUTH SEA BARBERS. They Fill Their Customers' Hair Witb Lime and Slack It. Savage Heads Fairly Sizzle— Then tha Locks Are Done Tip to Besemble Spiral Eteel Shavings— Shaved in Sp?ts. ■f^yjEARDS and mustaches arc rare iv J!^Y? the Pacific Islands. There is but a .faJ scanty growth of hair upon the face, and though the straggling hairs are rarely pulled out they grow so slowly that shaving is not resorted to more than three or four ' times a year. The barber's chief occupa tion is in the dressing of the hair, and in this branch of the business he finds enough to do nnd ample scope for the exercise of bis ingenuity' iu ways that would never occur to his civilized rival. • .One custom holds good throughout the Island realm wherever hair is worn at all, and that is the lime-shampoo, based upon motives of comfort and convenience gener ally, the same as led to the whitewashing of coops and loosts on a , hen-ranch.' Tliese things abound in the tropics, and must be accepted as a distinctive feature of the life, to be dealt with in the readiest • fashion. A long and irritated cxpeiience finds its best solution in lime, and lime, therefore, is used; by all. . jyvwA head sizzling DOT. Having lime the savage combs all the kinks out of the three, four or even six inches to which he allows his hair to grow, sifts the fine lime In among the hair, selects a com fortable * place . in which to lie," gets the bar ber to sprinkle water on the lime and shuts his eyes, while admiring friends stand about to watch him sizzle.* The water slakes the lime with much blowing of bubbles and the evolution of thick clouds of carbonic acid gas, the subject submits Cheerfully to turn his head into a mortar-bed until, the heat becomes too much for him to bear, when a dash of water waslie* away the steaming lime, and the first step has been taken toward dressing his hair. *• - ' Many are content to simply comb the hair after the lime application is over' and so leave it for a month to come, yet even this . simple operation is a work of time and pa tienre, for a man would be disgraced who. should appear with the' hair lying. Hat and smooth upon the head. . The comb consists of ten or a dozen wooden skewers about four inches long, run down fine and smooth and secured by cords and gum side by side at the. end bf a. long and. light piece of carved wood, which served as a head orna ment. With this comb the hair is carefully raked 0ut,.60 that each hair will stand on end, and together they will appear like a light mop. . WOMEN'S HAIR THE SHORTER. . Between men and Women the only distinc- . tion observed is that the men often wear the hair six inches long all about the head, the women seldom more than two inches, stand- Ing out even on all sides, while men train ' the hair below the crown upward, so that it, too, will grow parallel with, the hair on the top of the head.* This Involves much comb lug and much use of bandages before it will answer all the requirements of fashion and satisfy the wearer that he will look suffi ciently grim to his enemies when they meet in battle. Others prefer spiky ringlets which are cither trained to stand erect or to fall away from the ciown in all directions. These ringlets are mane after the hair has been limed and combed out stiff. Beginning with the forehead, the barber grasps not more than ten or a dozen hairs Blowing close to gether, wraps them tightly around a single spear of grass and covers the whole with a layer of bread-fruit gum. In the end the ornamented Islander will present much the appearance of a blushing porcupine. Eor fully a week the hair must remain in its curl grasses, which are carefully bundled in a cloth saturated with oil. LIKE SPIRAL STEEL SHAVINGS. At last the barber decides that his work will do him credit, wipes oft from each wisp of hair Its * abundance of gum, draws out the core of grass nnd leaves the ringlet standing erect and about as graceful as the fine spiral shavings which one finds in a ma chine shop where they have been planing steel. The man who elects to wear his hair in a mop or ringlets must conduct himself with a single eye to preserving for fully a month the simple beauty of his coiffure. lie may not swim witliout first tying his hair in oiled cloth, and the pattering of the rain warns him lo bundle un his head. At night he may not sleep with his head upon the soft mats, but must rest Ins cheek upon a wooden pillow. The simplest form of these pillows Is a joint of bamboo supported on crutches at each end and three or four inches long. '1 be natural black color of the hair is sel dom seen even in the children, and so al most universal is the practice of liming the head that the colors, ranging between straw aud brick red, which result trom the use of the lime, may also be taken to stand in place ol the natural color. Some leave their hair of the color to which it has been burned, but many others elect to dye it either of a .single body color, uniformity laid on or in bars or blocks of gaudy hues. A favorite device is to color the hair in two contrasting hues along the line of the mid dle, blue on ono side and red on the other, red and greeu or yellow and black. LIKE A TAINTED TARGET. Others indulge in irregular patches of dye, giving a marbled effect, and on ouo isl and they have reached the artistic height of concentric rings of bright colors, giving to each head the appearance of an animated target for the skill of opposing archers. Among such as Shave the head of all bnt a tion of the hair there is a multitude of fashions,* and each consults his own taste or the riper judgment of his barber. The varied results are striking in the extreme. Some are seen whose hair is confined to the front of the . head, .- leaving all behind the crowns as smooth as a ball ; and yet others reverse the process, exteud their foreheads tothe crown and carryall their docks be hind.* Heads bare on one side are as com mon as in a Siberian convict train, and one never gives such an oddity a second glance. The warrior's delight above all others, the regular fighting clip, is a Cleanly shaven head with a cie.st about two inches wide ex tending from the forehe.id clear back to the nape of the neck, and trimmed to such a length as will best insure its standing erect. The savage islander must know what be comes of every particle ot hair which is clipped from his head. He bikes the bunch home, burns it, mixes the ashes with water and drinks it. He believes that if any one could get possession of a lock of his hair, burn it and swallow the ashes that person could draw all his strength away, and he would weaken and die just In proportion as the other waxedhearly. Therefore, he takes the - dose himself.— William . Churchill ln Pittsburg Dispatch. - The Chid of an Evil Parent. fl: Malvollo says In Shakespeare's comedy of Twelfth Night, '-Some are born great, some achieve great- ness, and some have greatness thrust upon them." So it Is with nervousness. Some are born nervous, some achieve nervousness by their own Impru- dence and neglect,* and ; lomo ' have nervousness tbrust upon thorn by disease. The basic starting point or this aliment, which grows rapidly and as- sumes alarming proportions when it roaches the stago or hypochondria and chronic sleeplessness. is weakness, the child of indigestion, parent or many evils. - For the Incapacity' or tbe stomach to digest food, and of the system to assimilate It after di- gestion, Hostetter's Stomach Hitters has ever proved a sovereign remedy, . Sleep becomes tranquil, appe- I tite Improves, abnormal sensitiveness of ti.e nerves Is succeeded by steadiness anil vgor in those deli- cate tissues, bodily substance Increases when tbat signal restorative of digestion la systematically ; used. : Conquer also with It malaria, rbenmat sm, kidney Inactivity, ■ liver complaint and conslipv 'J_i___B_-_iß__^_SB_£ ! >'' :" «s DECORATIVE FANCIES. A Central-Arm Sofa That Will Never Become Popular. Portieres of Ling Eilken Cords— A Handsome BaUroad Csr-The Craze for the Antique Is Dead— A Clever Scheme. [From tLe Cloisterer for November.] A dear, sweet soul, whose folks . have brought her up admirably, lends us a hump backed sketch, showing a sofa which Is lated family of girls there is always a back parlor lounge, which seems perpetually kept affluent and well dressed ou one tali, and badly abused on the other. The central-arm sofa seems eloquent of a refined aud iceberg conversation, while our lit I 2 " )%0) . mitpji O'l n/^J I Ji y 4 ' liiiWlll j Mil HIIHISSSt ill SS • back-parlor friend has a purring appear ance, and seems everlastingly lo threaten to call ma. : , The propriety sketch is all right, young lady; we are glad you sent it, for it is very handsome,' and this book wants to look just as pretty as lhe "after" cot in a com .'plexion .ad.; but It will never expedite a 'match.' . We have. had portieres of beads and bam bcoj and portieres of stringed rice. We row have portieres made by using plenty of long silken cords, hanging over a back-ground of any solid-colored fabric. The cord maybe knotted at different points or caught into strands, or it may lie In fish-net form, like an over-dress. At the top of the fabric, where it is attached, the cord is worked into loops, fringe-like, so as to make a kind of frieze. Tlie color harmonies are of course left to one's own judgment, but the scheme Is an admirable one, and open to many pleas ing varieties. The handsomest railroad car in this coun try is undoubtedly the one just finished by Prettily Festooned. the Pullman Car Company for Austin Cor ban. All the fittings and furnishings are gorgeous with brass— brass bedsteads, brass chairs and brass tables. It is quite proba ble that In the future no private or excur sion car will be completed without its brass bedsteads. The rage is started at all events. Said one of the .best-known furniture dealers the other day, a man who does only" the very highest class of trade: " The craze for the antique is dead. Of course there are people who are judges and admire old work for its Intrinsic value, but the average woman who buys old stuff merely to give her house an air of age and solidity is done with it, simply because she has been sub jected to many embarrassments and annoy ances through the fad." We heard a woman of social rank say to a dealer recently: "Mr. X, 1 wish to get rid of all my old furniture, if I can get any where near what 1 paid for it. You see it is so exasperating for me to answer ques tions, and people will ask questions, if only to show a polite interest in my treasures. They say: 'What a magnificent cabinet! Is it an heirloom ?' and when I reply in the negative they lift their eyebrows | and say 'Oh!' in such a tantalizing way. ■ Then, again, some folks, with that breezy ingenu ousness which denotes a candid disposition, say: .'What do you have this old piece for if it's not a family-piece And I can't tell the truth about It and say I bought it be cause it lent eminent respectability to my establishment."- _ y-x On other occasions the presence of an oid piece of furniture In a house sometimes stalls a guest on reminiscences about chairs that Mrs. Jones', great-grandfather left her or Mrs. Smith's niece on her grandmother's side possesses, aud it is calculated to make" one leel stupid to just simply sit and listen to all this and have _to confess to oneself that ' one has not a single genuine family piece in the whole house. So the craze has .licit out. . .' - One of tne cleverest schemes for a wide window which we - have seen for some time we herewith reproduce. We have shown as a background an arch and fretwork arrange ment, but iit can Ibe done In stained glass if desired.* A * soft, opalesque i tint iof glass, with quiet, gray tones, would look Well re lieved ,by some contrasting colors in bric-a brac on - the ' window-mantel. *? The window can,' if * made up with care and good taste in tne selection of colors, bo one of th" most elaborately ornamental us well as original. ■ >■:' Some one Is out with the argument that pillows give one wi inkles on the face,' and that Japanese do not have wrinkles because they do not use pillows. "Cuddle down to sleep upon a feather pillow." says this - au- ; thority, "and notice how it increases the . furrows around the eyes. • On the ether hand, see how beautifully. a block pillow works. ! Place it comfortably under the neck and you will enjoy the position very much, and it is marvelous to note how little strain is put upon the facial muscles and how smoothly they lie in consequence." .. An interesting combination, and one more over which is very novel„sliows an arrange ment whereby the festoon i 3 draped over a deep fringe. * This Is an excellent treatment - for a long window having a stained-glass transom, as the light will show through tha fringe. •• Lace curtains are of the utmost signifi cance in interior decoration. Should tho cur tains bo too long, as is usually the case, and not too expensive, it is better to cut them off, allowing about a quarter of a yard for the hem and shrinking; but when tco valu able to cut,* the surplus can bo left at the bottom and the curtains caught up into fan shaped plaits. To do this take the lower back corner up to the tassel hooK and gather tbo curtain into plaits. Time was, only a short while ago, when a . man in furnishing a room had the choice of ebony, cherry, black walnut or brass cur- . tain poles, and ono or the other had to do. To-day, however, the wooden pole is stained to match the wood-work or the furniture of a room, and a brass pole is only used in cases where the furniture is brass, or whero there is a general prevalence of brass fur nishings. ■ Lace curtains are seldom used now alone as a window treatment, but aro combined with some soft-toned light silk festooned at the top and down the side a little to break— the harshness of the plain white color. The demand among the wealthier classes for genuine tapestries for wall hangings has encouraged the manufacture iv this country of hand-painted wall hangings and the work is so cleverly done that the colors look ex- . actly :-s if woven into the goods. An old bedstead, very * handsome, was offered at auction last month in Loudon. Five shillings were bid for it, until someone discovered that Gladstone had slept on it every night for seven mouths and thereupon the price ran Into a fabulous sum. It illus- - trates the fact that people who hunt antique '* furniture now-a-days place little value upon '* it unless accompanied by history or an ." ancestral pedigree. Old Italian furniture of the sixteenth and . seventeenth centuries is now being shown by the extremists of the furnishing trade. . '. '1 lie French schools are becoming passe and • Sheraton and Chippendale are the fashion able" periods iv vogue. divided by a tall, central arm. The scheme will never be | popular. It prevents a sit-closer tendency, and has a prim and proper look about It, In deep and dismal con trast .with that old parlor lounge which most of us helped to wear out on one end, for in every well - regu- FOR A WIDE WINDOW . FALSE COURBETS. Th* Counterfeits nt French Picture's In' the City or Carta. The counterfeiters of French pictures, it appears from the Paris journals, having be come aware that the market is overstocked, with false Corots, . Itousseaus and Dupres, have begun to turn ■ their attention to Cour bet. A cousin of the painter," M. Eugene Cuurbet, lias lately been busy tracking them out and has discovered no less than six c lever painters « ho are making a dishonest living In wholo or in part by imitating the Communist painter. He was first attracted to Geneva, where his cousin had taken refuge after the fall of the Commune. While, .there Courbet was oppressed by the fact that he could not return to France until he had paid for the Vendome Column, whose • overthrow he had decreed. He accordingly set to work with great industry, making uso of some four or five of his pupils to push tho work faster. Two of thu cleverest of thoso caught so well his spirit of tricks and color and handling as to readily palm off their work fo. his. After his death they estab lished themselves in Paris and forwarded ' their pictures to .Brussels to a dealer, who charged himself with the task of adding Courbet's signature and disposing of them. Four other falsifiers, not so dangerous as tliey and uot so clever, have since turned up. These all keep themselves on the safe side of the law by not signing Courbet's name to their works, and the dealers who do sign it are out of France. The Innocent " amateur, however, who . buys of these dealers and .afterward brings his pictures into France is liable to have them confiscated. . The story may serve as a warning to those would-be connoisseurs of ours who really care more for the possession of the name of an artist than bis work. - It is safe to say that more than half of Com bets to be found ln private picture collections in this country belong either to the classof pot-boilers which were dashed off by this conscienceless painter during bis sojourn in Switzerland, or to that of tlio more or less clever counter feits by his pm ils. Cuurbet is what is called "a painter's painter." His rugged, vigorous, almost brutal style must, even when he is at his best, be "caviare to tbe general, who richly deserve to be punished or pretending to like whit they would not think of buying hut f.ir -the fascination of the signature on the canvas or panel. That even the commissi may be deceived lit judging of Courbet's work is proven by the revelation that among the forgeries just de tected was one of the- paintings passed by the jury of experts and conspicuously hung at the great Paris Exposition of last year.— The Art Amateur. • . • • . Mr. Stanley makes the length of the Nile 4100 miles. ' * ' The Use Of Harsh, drastic purgatives to relieve castive- • ness is a dangerous practice, and more liable to fasten the disease on the patient than to cure it. What is needed is a medicine tliat, In effectually opening the bowels, corrects the costive habit and establishes a natural • daily action. Such an aperient is found in A ' * *'* is v^ ■ ■ ■ Ayer's Pills, which, while thorough In action, strengthen ' as well as stimulate the bowels and excretory- . organs. '■.* , ' .' • " For eight years I was afflicted with con- stipation, which at last became so bad that the doctors could do M mure for me. "Jhen ■ I began to take Ayer's Pills, and soon tlie bowels became regular and natural in their movements. lam now in excellent health.", . — Wm. H. DeLaucett,- Dorset, Ont. * "When I feel the need -of a cathartic, I take Ayer's Pills, and find them to be more Effective than any other pill I ever took." — Mrs. B. OL Grubb, Burwellvllle, Va. : "For years I have been subject to consti- pation and nervous headaches, caused by de- . rangement ot.the liver. After taking various remedies, I have become convinced that , Ayer's Pills are tho best. - They have never failed to relieve my bilious attacks in a short time ; and I am sure my system retains its tone longer after the use of these Pills, than .'. , has been the case with any other medicine I have tried."— H. S. Sledge, Weimar, Texas. ' Ayer's Pills, PREPARED OT ' -" " Dr. J. C. 'AYEE & CO., Lowell, Mass. .- Sold by all Dealers In Medicine.' SalS TrSQHoWeAiry . j r.<UM