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Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, April 10, 1887, Image 2

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•‘FOR I KNOW THAT MY RIDEEM*
KR LITETB.”
F r**w ths +tdtwy,
Sba.il the nio'e, from the night rr.dergrnond.
call the Peas:* from toe ua;-glare to
IP ;
thal. tnecwl ■ uarge the bint-. ‘ I : m
Goto! Seek tbe shadow* with p e
fball a man b'nd his eves and ct am: "it
Tain that men weary to see ’ 4
Let him walk in the gloom, whoeo m .
Peace be with him 1 But whence ia hi*
r
To assert that the world it In uarknes*. be
canse he has tarn, and from the light ■
Or to *e<-k to o’er-hadcw me lay with the
pail of hti eelf-cfa .’*en night 4
I hare listened, like David's great son. to the
voice of the beaat and the i-irdi
To the toice of the trees and it.-.- :aps. yea
a voice frc m the atones J rave hear 1;
And the sun aod the n.orn. an 1 the stars in
their courses, re-echo the worn:
And one word epeac the bird aad tre beast.
and the hyssop thai springe in lb* wall.
And the cedar ioat oft* its proud Dead upon
Lebanon, stately and tall.
And tne roc aa. and the sea. and the star*,
and “Know I'’ is the message of a.l.
For the answer has ever been n gh unto him
who would question and learn
How to bring the stars near to hi- gaie, in
what ortot* the planets must turn:
Wht the apele meat fall from the bough:
what the fuel that tun-fires burn.
Whence came life 4 In the rocks is it writ,
and no f inner hath graven it there'-
Whence ‘-Blue iigbt* D.l it* mo'ions ar.se
without binding 4 Will acien "dee.are
That the taw ruling a l hath up l : rung from
Nomina. that au.deth Nowhere -
“Tea. I know:*’ cried the froe man of od.
And whosoe'er w: s it may know.
•My Redeemer existetfi!’* ! seek for a all
of fils presence, and 10.
As he spoke to ihe .got. and it was, so he
sneaks to mv son . ard I know.
OOLOgGg “OLIS-COFES.
THAT DICK POND.
ItY F. R. BURTON.
'C'+PV’’* 2f r “."
It wa evening: or to be more exaot, it
Was about to be evening.
The hid was junt about to set, the
flower* were getting ready to fold tbeir
SpetAJs for the night, and the poultry were
itAtbking of climbing to tbe re -t. Again,
to be exaot, it should be said ton*, only a
•ma:l portion of the veeetable world was
contemplating the action suggested
Above; for It was autumt), and moat of th“
flowers bad blown long since in beauteous
BPbsoma, and more recently had blown
(teem.elves upon a fertile aotl in fluffy,
reproductive pods and fuxzy seed Tea-
Mis. A tew last roses of summer and
lani but gorgeous golden rods stood
Iflilvering on the brink of winter in a
Jttt (1 ot free-to-all contest to see wmch
Hot: Id bold out the longest,
i A limpid stream coursing lazily
<jirough a grove gave a belated green to
grasses that bathed their roots in its
■basin, aud came to an expansive paueto
gr, artificial pond where lilypads flour
ished and bull frogs sang to tae departing
l*y.
A wee whiff of a breeze, born of two
wloudlets. came whis ertng down lo’n-
WvlthsriDg leaves ot a great oak and play
aully pushed an acorn from its stem. The
And brown nut fell to the ground with a
that caused a slight s: art to agitate a
■'wistful girl who sat gazinu at tne p nd.
•%tie stream, the flowers and the sky wuo-
TDut seeing any of them. There was £
Book ol waiting In her eyes, and a flutter
ing of expectancy and dread at her heart
very rustle in tne dying grass recalled
her absent spirit to tae trysting ;. ac-
Then she searched tne grove with her
love-lit eyes and sighed to see not
•be sought.
*•***
It was evening, sure enough, when the
young man came. The sud uad blink" 1
u farewell pe-ka-boo at his friends by
the stream in tbs grove, and the chill o
an autumn night came bristling up from
the ground.
•■Albert!” exclaimed the young girl,
rising impulsively.
Hestopped in his siow walk while ye'
several :eet distant and cast bis eyes
down.
“Well, Hildreth,” he said quietly.
“Youhave seen him?’’
“1 have, Hildteth.”
‘•And he refused?”
A shudder arid a silent bowing of the
head was the vouaz man’s answer.
“Why, why,” moaned Hildr-ta, “way
dir' bertfuse? Whaidirl hesav?”
“He said,” answered Albert, raising his
head for the first time, “that i was not
only a poverty-stricken schoolmaster,
but a teach*/ of a public senooi under a
system be despises, and that i bail taken
an ungrateful advantage of the dignity
of my station to presume to love b:e
daughter. I would have shown h'm how
.illogical ms reasoning was, but woen I
irled to frame a syllogism, he ordered in*
from the house, never to appear there
agaiu.”
“And he ordered you also never to see
me?”
“Hedid, Hildreth ”
Then Hildreth, too, looked down, and
tbo silence was so great that the dark
ness could be heard gathering in the ire -
tops. At last sue looked up.
“Aren’t you going to come near me,
Albert?” she said.
“But your lather’s command?” he
Jiuened, while joy and despair wrestled
or mastery in his bean.
“My father may command himself; ols
daughter will command herself. And
aren’t yon breaking ms command just
as much in standing there as you would
lieru beside me ?”
Albert d*s bed for ward into tbe shadow
•f imflisi ■ >.. Tare was a dm,
m>.line of arms, and presently s resound
ing smack : oat mad*- tne wee wnifl of a
breeze lati*b, and another acorn turn bleu
to the ground.
• •••**#
It was a black night wnen the lovers,
driven partly by a sense of duty and
partly by the cod, thought ol separating.
Albert to find his way to the village, Hil
dreth to eruss tne familiar field* o eer
father's estate to the great maoei in.
Tney paused at the sboteof th pond.
Albert thought he saw alone, Iste water
Illy almost wlfbln reach. it was fg
ality a frost-bitten, yellow pad, nut Al
bert believed it was a bioseoui, and ne
looked upon it with longing.
“Hildretb,” he said, “let me give you
tnat flower to keep in token of our h.p
and pereeveram •
forthwith be reached out with bis
cktie, aiming to eaten the crook round tne
stem ol the lily and draw it towards him
until be could grasp it. Tne supposed
tilossoni was easily caught, but us slip
)*ory stem slid on the hook and the pad
flouted back to Its place. Albert made a
convulsive grasp after it ns it slipp-d
away and speedily and directly follow and
bis osoe Into the water. It was deep, and
he disappeared wiln a great splash into
the dark ness end the pond.
“Ah ! ah! ah ! au !” These were pierc
ing shrieks that rent Ilia air Irom llll
dreth’i throat. Tbe impulse to leap In
alter bar lover was great, but she wa*
saved tbe eacrlfloe wuou Albert came
wheezing and cbokmg to the surface and
cued out tnat she must not be afiaid,
'.list be could swim. Tba wabfl was not
over bla bead, but the laud that nout isht il
tbe Illy rooie wae soft aud deep, and be
could with tbe greatest uillicully an.
preach the baak. A uiloule passed anxi
ously by; tbea be reached out bis baud
and illldretb grasped it. lu vain ana
tagged, the mud would out yield and At-
::r! stuck fast n the chilling water.
! Toen a welcome voice broke through the
t Eight.
••.Miss Hildreth, where are you?”
I: was Jane. OGe of toe maids of the
m.n-m. searching for her mistress, ~ae
. 1 the shrieks end came rushing
t > the rescue. By dint of their cm
bim-d efforts the girls finally extrica ed
Ait'ert from bis cot.ling situation. He
shivered upon the bans whi'e Hildreth
wrung her hands and his dripping coat
alternately in deep distress.
AND HE DISAPPEARED WITH A GREAT
SPLASH.
“1 must go to ruy house as fast as I
cn." he chattered, "or freeze to death.”
“You shan’t do any such thing, Albert
d°ar." exclaimed Hildreth. “It's two
Ions: miles and you wifi catch a death
cold on the way.”
* “But what am Ito do, then?” ne queried
almost savagely.
“Come up to father’s house: it’s very
near.”
“But be bss forbidden me!”
“No matter; you are in danger; he
could n >t refuse you help in this plight,
and. besides, we won’t let him see you.”
“That we won’t,” put in -Jane, sympa
thetically; “we'll smuggleyou in through
the kitchen.”
Coe young tr.au realized the dangers of
* is condition too clearly to resist longer,
and together they hastened through tne
grove and across tne lawns to the man
aion. Carefully they approacned the
kitchen moor and entered there. The cook
stared in bewilderment.
“Add.” said Hildretb. emphatically,
“say nothing to anybody!”
Anotner minute and tney were in Hil
dreth's bourdolr. where a bright fire was
giowing in tbe grate. Tbue lar tne girls
had succeeded admirably, but uow the
questi >n arose, how were they to help me
unfortunate young man further? Hil
dreth and .lane looked at one another slg.
miicantly, and it was Ciear tnat each com
prehended the difficulty. As for Albert
crouching over tne fire, be. to, under
shod u. Hiidretu had no brother. There
were men servants about the house, but
■jane couid not secure any of their gar
ments at that hour without attracting
suspicion. Yet Albert must have warm
clotsio ’ and a chance to dry his soaked
coverings, or he might as well he trudging
across toe country to his house.
Alter a moment—“ Miss Hildretb,”
said Jane. solemnly, and then sue
drew her mistress to a corner
of the room and whispered to her.
Tney both blushed, looked askance at Al
bert's back, then whist-ered again, gig
gled a little,and finally decided that it
must be done. Hi Id rein, however, ex
claimed in a frightened aspirate:
“But he is so tail!’’
“Nonsense!” replied -fane, determined
ly ’twon't do mm any harm to snow
•us heels a bit. Tain’l as if 'twas either
of us, Mies.”
“But 1 can't tell him,” persisted Hil-,
dre’.n. b'.ushiag still more deeply.
“Well, 1 can and will,” aaid Jane.
>o tbe domestic went up to the young
man and said in a straightforward way:
“.Mr. Morton, you’ve got to nave a
change and will have to put up with tbe
oest we can do for vou, lam going to get
two or three old skirts of mine and Miss
Hiidrsth's, and by putting one over the
other and wrapping a loose gown over
all, ar.d putting a shawl round your
shoulders, ycu can be quite comfortable
au<l the looks won’t matter.”
Then tbe young man blusr.ed also, but
in the next instant be smiled, and in the
next alt three fell to laugnuig. Jane
bust.ed out of the room and presently
bustled in again with an armful of fem
inine drapery and some big towels.
“Tnere,”jo said, “be sensiole and get
into them.”
Tue girls thereupon withdrew, and A1
oert proceeded lo mae tue best ol the
situation.
*******
When Jane and her mistress re-entered
tbe boudoir they knew not woether to
laugh or tremble. Hildreth was anxious
about her lover’s health anti distracied
v.ith griet at his interview with her
father. Albert, however, win was
no igti ween he came into the room, bad
gamed heart from tbe warti’.u or tue lire
and was disposed to be cheerful. tv> they
all laughed again, but softly, for fear of
alarming somebody. Albert wai thor
oughly, though not beautifully, clad In
skirts and gowns. The loose wrapper
just buttoned around his coest. His
lower extremities were covered by the
upper two-thirds of a pair of long brown
stockings, tbe ’eet of woten flapped at the
eud ot bis toes. His own ciotnes were
distributed on the backs of chairs before
tbe lire. Jt was certainly very
funny, but happ.ly effective. Tney
began lo enjoy the situation.
Jane Detbougbl herself that Hil
dreth nad nad no tea and tnat Albert
might be Hungry, and started to go for pro
visions. A knock at the door stopped her
and she turned very pale. No one spoke,
and the knock was repeated.
“Hildreth, are you mere?” said a voice,
and the knob was turned.
i he door yielded and Hildreth’s father
enteied.
“Hildreth,” he said,“we’ve been look
ing for you—”
fie stopped right there and stared in
blank astonishment at tbe strange figure
by the fire. Jane turned away, Hildretb
began to cry, and Albert simply looked
blankly back at tne lather.
“H'*W IS THIS, MR?”
“How ts this, (sir ?” exclaimed the father
In a terrible voice, “riiHsqueraditig In my
daughter’s room alter I have foi bldde i
you ifa* house?”
“On, papa,” Hildreth sobVd. coming up
to him and putting her anus around bis
n*ok, “Ue isn't masquerading ai all ho
fell into the pond and he would have
caught his death cold, and I loss him,
tiapa. and can’t levs anybody eUe.aiui he
tad lo get warm somehow, and I just look
him bets, be aiun’i want to come, aud
SAVANNAH MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY. APRIL 10, 1887— TWELVE PAGES.
please take back what you said this after
neon, papa dear, please do, it wasn’t
ats fault.”
I'apa looked grimly at his daughter
after tnis and tueu, turning to Albert,
said sternly:
“You fed into tbe pond, eh ?”
“Yes. sir,” replied Albert plainly, “I
did."
• And that is how you show deference
to my wishes. Is it ? ’
••My dear s.r, I—” began Albert, earn
| eetly.’
■He didn’t mean to, papa,” interrupted
i Hiidretu.
“Oh, fie didn’t mean to, eh? well—”
and papa looked once more at Albert.
The young man's earnest, blx.uus ex
pression and respectful demeanor fitted so
Incongruously witn his garb tnat a faint
twitching came to tne corners of papa’s
mouth,
“Hr—Jane.” he said, “go and find
Thomas and tell him to bring this gentle
man a suit of man’s clothes. Hiidretu,
come witn me: I want to talk with you.”
* * * * * * *
A half hour later Albert, looking again
like a man, but still in garments that
failed to lit, entered the library of the
great mausion.
“Mr. de Grote,” he said, quietly, “1
want to assure you that my return to this
bomb- was woolly unintentional.”
••Humpa, i suppose so. Now, air, X
have been talkiug with Hildreth. lam
afraid you have influenced the silly child
into thinking a great deal too much of
you, a great deal more than you ars
worm, sir.”
“1 do believe, Mr. de Grote, that Hil
dreth loves me,” responded Albert, sim
ply.
“Ob, you do. Humph! Well, sir, lam
inclined to th.nk snedoes. But—” and
papa grew exasperated; ‘‘why, in tbe
name of wisdom, are you a schoolmaster
aad a puolicschoolmaster at tnat? Why
aren't you a private teacher with a de
cent sy6'.em at leas: t”
“My education seemed to adapt me
best to teacuing, Mr. de Grote, aud as
for the public senooi system, it is not
so bad that men of sense canuot improve
it.”
“Just so, just so; I wonder you didn’t
say tnat this afternoon. Mr. Morton, I
am—er—not inclined to be tyrannical
witn my daughter, aDd though 1 cannot
woolly—er—admire her choice, I—er
Mr. Morton. 1 was just about to refresh
myself with some Burgundy, Will you
join me?”
Albert had all tnis time been repressing
a series of saivers.
He said:
“Yes. Mr. de Grote, I shall be pleased
to. My involuntary hath has thoroughly
chilled me.”
Rapa looked squarely at the young man
a minute and inquired:
■ Perhaps you'd like something hot?”
“1 should, indeed.”
“Whisiy today?”
“if you please.”
A ring at a bell brought a servant and
not water and a black bottle. Mean
while, the two men stood silent. After
they had refresaed themselves papa eon
liau-d:
“Mr. Morton, I must say 1 rather like
vour frankness. Er—” and then papa
went to tne window, tbrust his hands into
nis trousers pockets and stared at tna
dim figures ot the trees on tbe lawn.
He saw them soiemuly bowing to one
another as the nirht breeze whirled
•long, and he wondered if tney would
seep up tne ceremony ail night and ba
just as far apart in tne morning. Albert
aw that there was good reason to hope,
and dry clothes, the genial beverage and
a buoyant heart caeered him. But he
kept discreetly silent. When papa had
concluded that the trees were nut of a
progressive order of bein a s, he turned
about arid began again:
“Mr. Mori >n, my chief objection to-day
was your apparent devotion to tnat dem
ocratic humbug, the public senooi sys
vem. If you hadn’t seun fir to defend it
we might have got on. Bother your
poverty, 1 say; 1 Was poor once myself, a
long time ago. Now it occurred to tae
that as you are a trained instructor, you
might— er—in tne event —er —of your hav
ing some dar— er—”
"Y’es, sir.” said Albert, encouragingly.
“Thai is, I mean to s?y, in the event of
your becoming the father of a family,
you might bequite qualified to instruct—
er—your child! en and condemn the pub
lic schools. eh?”
“Certainly, elr,” assented Albert.
“Yes; all these things nave their com
p-nsatlons, 1 suppose. 1 still maintain
that Hildreth thinks a great deal more of
tou than you are worta. out—er—well, I
nave sent my man to your house to get
you your own clothes. While tney are
coming, pernups you mlgnt talk witn
Hildreth. She may tell you what I told
her if she wants to ”
Anotner ring at the bel! and a slight
wi t brought Hildreth to ihe door. Rap*
aa<l poured himself'another glass of Bur
gundy. but had not touched it.
’•Hildreth,” ue said, “go with Mr. Mor
ton into toe drawing-room; 1 will join
you presently.”
They disappeared, leaving papa gazing
absently intonis wineglass.
“Humph!” be finally muttered; “if it
had not been for that'confounded duck
pond I presume he’d have gone away and
llildretn would nave forgotten mm. Hut
some other equally objection aide fellow
would nave ta':en his place, or she might
have lingered along halt heart-broken.
Well, such an affair is better over witn
than hanging tire, so here goes to tbeir
happiness and my own with them.”
Tue rare old Burgundy tickled his
palate aod inspired a warmer glow to bis
blood than he had felt tor uiauy a year,
and he went to tne drawing-room smiling,
woile the wind and tne trees laughed to
gether at the sigutof him, and the golden
rods waked up to iuquire what all the
fuss was about.
“That duck pond,” whispered the
winds, and tho golden rods forthwith
went to sleep again, knowing that every
thing was just as it should be, lor was
not the placid pond still there, ready to
serve Its purpose in the world whenever
occasion snould require it?
Hot Lottery tor it Nomination.
from Workington Lrttor to the HaLtimorr .Sun,
Mr. Win. Hayne Berry, who represents
the H “urm houtn < farolmadistrict In t on
gresa, is known at horn : us a strict econo
mist, anil it was expected that he would
rival. If not excel, Mr. Holman in guard
log toe treasury. During tbe Forty-ninth
Congress be din not figure very conspicu
ously in the debates, lull witn two ses
sions’ experience he may astonlsb his
Congressional associates hi the next
House, home of ms friends In Uroenville
remarked when ne started for Washing
ton, just alter being elected, that “Berry
would fall in a fit or drop dead the first
time ne encountered a bill appropriating
several million dollars” lie survived
one term In Congress, and hopes to pull
through the Fittletn. Tnat he Is a child
ot fUruna is shown by the story of Ids
nomination. After bis predecessor, Col.
KviDM, died there was a lively and a pro
longed contest over tne nomination. < iver
200 ballots were taken without a result
being reached. Finally It was proposed
to pul the names of tbe toree leading can
didates Into a nst, ami that the first name
drawn out should receive luo nomina
tion, winch was equivalent to in election.
Messrs. Berry, Giliynrd aud Monroe weie
tbe rival ‘ undid it*’*, and th<*ir names
were placed in tbe hat. Mr. Mon
roe's representative was givn ihe first
draw:, and. in hi* disappointment tna
slip ill paper be drew from tue hat con
tained toe I Bine and Berry ibe mun wuom
lie nad been fi/iiting vigorously through
out the contest
**l(ucli on lth,”
“Hough on Hob” curse skin humors,
eruptions, ling worm, letter, salt rbciiiu,
fro-led feel, cfiiHdalus, It' S, Ivy pOISOtt,
harbor's turn, Mie.jaia.
A TYPICAL BEGGAR.
THE STORY OF ONF WHO FOL
LOW'i;i> I HK PROFESSION,
An Air of Gentility About Him —flow
He Entertained an Acquaintance at
His Room—The liiriiiiirr in Which He
Tramps the Street—How Me Quickly
Metamorphosed Mtiuseir.
New York, Aprils.—l could not readi
ly forget him as he mads an impression
on me. It was a tall, slender, snambling
figure with flowing ligut brown beard,
clothes of an English cut that were the
worse for wear, that ambled up to pas
sers by and in a feeble voice muttered:
“Kindly give me a bit of silver, I’m sick
and hungry.” and then shot away in tbe
crowd after feebly ejaculating, “Thankee,
sir,” wnether repulsed or rewarded. The
furtive glanoes and caution characteriz
ing tnis genteel mendicant indicated that
be was aware that tbe police are ordered
to arrest all beggars detected in the act.
The street beggar has always interest
ed me since one in Madison equare con
fided to me that it was easier begging
than working; and ta-re was an air of
gentility about this person that enlisted
my interest and excited my curiosity. I
found oy inquiry tnat tne police had a
description of film, but had never been
able to arrest Dim, as he was always alert
for tbeir presence wnen soliciting alms.
He seldom appeared in the same locality
two days to succession, but at intervals
of a fortnight or more; and had it not
been that his assumed leebleness of voice
be’if-d bis physique I snould nave con
cluded he was &<i invalid indeed, and not
able to be about In ail wea her. I attrib
uted tbe fact tnat he generally appeared
towards dusk to his desire to avoid atteu
tioD as well as police Interference, less
likely in tha shadows and nurrying crowd
at tnat hour than lu tbe broad dayligntof
tbe fashionable promenade, i always
make it a rule to give beggars some
thing, if only a copper, because a charity
always makes me feel happier; and get
ting a good cnanoe to look at him I
studied bis face In a glance and concluded
that my conjecture tbat he was a supe
rior man witn a history was correct. As
I have said. I could not readily lorget him
and looked in vain for nun tor some days,
but as he did not reappear in the locality
of Broadway and Twenty-taird street, 1
concluded be bad sought other fields ot
begging.
I
|
I
|
THE RECOGNITION IN THE SALOON.
If the personality had not made such
an impression on me I should not have
identified the man when 1 found him seat
ed at a table in a Third avenue beer
saloon one evening wnen I chanced to en
ter for liquid refreshment. Recognizing
him I dropped into a chair near him, and
after glancing over the evening paper 1
ventured to comment upon the news by
way of engaging him in conversation,
He was evidently cot inclined to be talka
tive, but,on the contrary, quite reserved,
with a dignity that did not comport with
the surroundings or my knowledge ol
him. 1 was not to be discouraged, how
ever, and finding that the current news
did not interest him, I ventured to speak
of tne attractions of the city to a
stranger like myself. Tne statement that
I wss a stranger caused him to lose some
of his restraint, and he admitted that tne
city was interesting to a stranger, yet
was not a great city like London. 1 then
observed that there was an English ac
cent in bis speech, not tbe generally ac
cepted cockney, but the well-bred Eng
lishman. There was not the slightest in
clination towardfriendline-s on nis part,
and his manner was plain that he talked
simply not to be rude and would much
rather be left alone. I, however, was riot
easily to be discouraged, and rattled on
so pleasantly tnat finally he became
quite cordial, the characterizing reserve
wearing ofi' gradually. Hisconversation
was that of a man "who had received a
common school education and bad seen
considerable of tbe world, aud my inter
est in him, with my knowledge of his
career on the street, in ere as and. I as
sumed that while in hard luck because ol
nou-rec iptal of ramittances be bad taken
to street begging to get along. 1 went so
lar as to invite him to go down to the
Bsople’s theatre, tie hesitated and de
cli.-ieu, bat when 1 told him the attraction
was a sensational melodrama, entitled
“Taken from Life,” the scene of wuicn
was laid in London, he said that ne would
go on condition that he was allowed to
pay biaown way, English style. Ue ob
served that he Should have to change bis
clothes ami take nis dinner.
“Hum—if you bavon’t dined, won’t
you dine with me?” 1 replied, on
condition be would allow me to
pay my share. He said his dinner
was ordered in bis room above stairs, and
that there would be enough lor two; tie
added that he had a room up-stairs and
had merely stepped in to get a glass ot
beer, as be had been walking
all tho alternoon, and was
weary (be did not say he bad
been on a bagging tour, but 1 assumed as
much, and thougnt it would be a good joke
iodine and go to tbe theatre with a pro
fessional street, beggar, especially one as
intelligent as my newly-found triend). He
led tne way through a side door into the
hall adjoining, and thence tin three
flights oi stairs to a door, tbrustiug open
which a neatly furnished room was re
vealed. He ushered me in with the
courtesy of one to the manner born, of
fering me a chair. He rang a bell, and,
excusing himse.f,disappeared in a closet
between bis owu and the Iront room. A
waiter from tbe saloon below responded
to the bell, and the muffled voice of my
friend, in the act of washing nis face,
ordered dinner lor two—tne waiter, evi
dently accustomed to suoh instructions,
disappearing immediately to execute
them. A glance at tne toom revealed that
the furniture was all old, but everything
wats scrupulously neat aud tidy. There
was a laded old portrait over ine mantel
in a dingy gilt n ame that was evidently
tbat ol the occupant of the room in
earlier lile. There was nothing else,
however, about the apartment to glveauy
indication of the tastes or condition of
nit newly lound friend. On tne enn
trarv, tbe absence ol comforts nnd orna
nnntation impartod to llie room nis own
aspect ol secrecy and icserve. He
nil rged Irotii the iav itory 01.'.d in a noat
dark woolen suit and Him hair in and near I
bl ushed so carefully that he tva* com
pletely me*ataorphosod, appearing like a
well-to-ilo Englishman. Almost simul
taneously with his appearanceiln* water
c.iiiie w tb a ttav, conspicuous oti wbicn
was tfie tsli slender buttle of Rhine er n*.
A table, wnieii I nave neglected toslaie
was l-i the centre of th* room, tvm spread,
nd wo* w*re soon vto s-vis, enjoying him
Heriii iii iahl>- d'hote mat was lunushid
(I re member *<v a sign ) 111 lee saloon be
low lur 40 ', Tils bottle of wine, hi* bust
explained, wruacatru, milling that be liaed
the Vintage,
1 gradually dlrvetad tbe conversation
to hiuikclt, but at first he was nut in
elined to be biographical. He naerelr
said that be was an Enulisamau by birth;
; that shortly after arriving in this city
i some years ago ae had been stricter with
i pneumonia. and when he recovered tound
ail his friends gone. He confessed that
he bad had a very hard time for a while.
•‘Why," he exclaimed, unguard diy,
4, l had to resort to begging in roe street.
Yes, sir, I became a professional V.-gear.”
raff'll
THE HOST RECEIVES HIS TISITOR.
“Couid you get a living at that?” I ex
claimed.
'•Easier than you think,” he replied,
"and for one fond of outdoor pedestrian
ism it is not as laborious as poring all day
over a desk, particularly alter you have
got over the sacrifice of self-respect and
dignity.”
"AuAmateur beggar! you interest me!”
“Y’ou get a good many rebuffs and
refusals, but if twenty out of a
hundred give you a nickel each you have
sl. Now l can live comfortably on $1 a
day—in this quarter of the town.”
'•And you are your own master,” 1
laughed.
“And boss, too.”
“ADd can make your own hours?”
"Yes,” he assented, “but in begging,
as in everything else, thrift is only
achieved by industry, and the beggar
must always beon the go. Tramp, tramp,
tramp, from morning to night, in storm
ana in sunshine—everybody, excepting
indeed the competing beggar, is your vic
tim —client, I should say. You can form
no idea of the persons who will listen to
your appeal. I nose whose benign coun
tenance certainly leads you to believe
that they will listen to your heartrending
story hurry by, ignoring you. while the
one least promising will stop, hear you,
sympathize with you and give you some
thing. There is consequently an excite
ment incidental to the pursuit that can
he only appreciated by the initiated.”
“It is not so easy a life, then, after
all?”
“No,” he replied, musingly; “early and
late, always on the go. The moderately
crowded thoroughfare, when the people
are not in too great a hurry, yields the
best; large crowds are no good. Harvest
time is the midnight when there are many
revelers about, who are inclined to bs
sympathetic and 'gqnerous, and not to
critically examipe their small change.
The hour when the crowd is hurrying
home to dinner is propitious lor a pitiful
story of starvation. But it is impossible
to calculate on fickle humanity, and some
days, without any apparent reason, the
public will b'Xjkiye, up a cent, and then
the beggar, unless be hds some change iu
his pockets, has to goto bed or resort to
degradation ol begging food in tne area
wavs. Still, by industry, an enterprising
and intelligent street Deggar can get
along very comfortably in a large city
like -New York, eTon if he has only a lew
routes, as the large floating population
keeps the streets continually filled with
strangers.”
“1 suppose you had a different story for
each one?”
“No, because you might run against
the same person twice the same
day, and ten chances to one
he would rudely remind you that you
bad told a different story before,
w hich would stamp you as an impostor.
Of course the story has to be changed
with the seasons and various circum
stances, but the same one must be told as
long as it goes. You know it is not a good
plau to change horses while crossing the
stream.”
“Do not—l mean did not you experi
ence any troub.e with the police?”
••Y'es, yes; but they will be indulgent
unless you are too fresh. 1 mean they
used to be; for you know now i am speak
ing of my past Hie.”
“I am glad to see by your surround
ings that you are doing much better
now.”
He did not reply, but I could detect a
covert smile through his flowing beard,
wtiica he nursed affectionately.
“1 taka it,” I said, “that you are now
established in business.”
“i 1?” he exolaimed. “I am a pro
fessor of anatomy. 1 write on the sub
ject.”
•■Ah!’’ 1 explained.
“There is not a harder working man in
this city than 1 am in my line. 1 consider
1 earn every cent I receive.”
By this time the dinner was finished,
and a pull on tho bell brought the waiter
up with the cafe noire. l“ was provided
nuh cigars and my friend accepted one
from me. Finding we bad consumed
more time at dinner than we could spare,
we nastily drained our coffee and depart
ed lor the' theatre. .My interesting friend
confessed that it had been a long time
since he had attended the theatre ( be
cause his professional engagements kept
him occupied). He was vary much in
terested wall tne pertormance and
evinced a knowledge ot all the localities
revealed. He displayed in his ofluand
criticisms a knowledge of human nature
and character that would nav<> been in
valuable to a dramatist, and it was clear
that he derived his information from per
sonal contact with me world, which be
solemnly declared was not so bad as gen
erally depicted.
Alter the theatre we walked up town
together and I prevailed upon him to tßke
oysters and beer with me. in vain 1 en
deavored to get him to talk again about
himself, buyie could not be drawn out.
When 1 arrived at my corner or, at all
events, the one ne thought 1 ougnt to taks
to my hotel, he stopped, put out his hand,
observing:
“Well, you .will return to your West
ern home and more than likely we snail
never meet again. 1 have to thank you
lor a very pleasantevenlug.”
1 perceived tnat he warned to get rid of
me and 1 leti him, and nu disappeared in
the shadows ot the nigut.
When walking m tne dusk the next
twilight 1 encountered my iriond attired
ui lus old suit, with unkempt hair and
beard, industriously pursuing Ins “pro
fession.” 1 avoided him, uud went to lbs
saloon and left word I would cull later in
the evening, wishing to identify him in
his proics-ioual attire beyoud any ques
tion. .lodge my surprisu when 1 tound
in.n awaiting in his room to receive mo,
e.gar in hand, Inc blazing In tut) grate,
and wearing nis best suit as II it were
not suen. ile evideully regarded ibis
Visit as an intrusion, ile begged me lo
forget bis idle tali, of lbs uigui be.ore,
and sought to convey the Impression
ti.at be li >d an income from tne “o' or
sid.” independent of ins professional
sai mugs.
1 left film regretting mat I bad In
truded upon him. He must have met*
amorpbosed bimseii again the urmi-in
I 1011, lor .i little wnlle alter, wimemroll.
in on Font t. eni B street, bel ween Ttiiid
avenue and Headway, I discovered him
soliciting aim I purposely placed mi
s' l. in ins way, pretending nit to r cog.
ni/.s mm, und be probably fuelingsecura
in oousenutiioe, wbihpoied in nu ear a
pitiful la.e ol niiug r aid sickhSs*. I
gave him a b g brown silver (idler,
w uicll ao surpriS and Ulin that he was tils.
eoucsrlcd; our uiaii there yas au
instant mutual recognition, but aot a
word. He inclosed the “donation” in the
palm of his hand and mechanically mut
tering: “Thankee, sir,” stole away
is the crowd, and for the life of me I
couid not overtake him to assure him
that ! would not expose him to the crowd
or think the iessoi him now that I knew
bis true history. 1 have only to add that
a few days after, prompted by idle curi
osity, 1 called at his abode, and learned
from the proprietor that “he have move
away,” wulther the Herman declared he
did not know. The man told me that he
understood from bis lodger that he was
employed bv the city as a street inspec
tor. * John d’Ap.mb.
DRE-S BKPOKM.
The Great Advance Made lu
Women's Wearing Apparel.
New York, April 9.— “ Do the dress re
formers make any approaches to the
Bazar?” repeated Miss Mary L. Booth,
a few days before she left her sanctum at
Harper’s for the trip abroad ou which she
sailed yesterday. “Certainly they make
approaches enough, but I can’t say they
have left any tangible impression. I don’t
see, indeed, wbat the dress reformer
wants,” aud the busy editor dropped a
handful of papers aud wheeled about to
face the questioner.
“Can anybody point out a single de
partment of social economy in which a
greater advance has been made in the
past twenty-live years, or one in which
common sense bas come nearer to gain
ing a solid footing than in the dress of
women? Look at our boots, with their
thick soles aud broad low heels, and com
pare them with the paper slippers of our
grandmothers. Think of the low necks
and short sleeves which they displayed
in ail weathers and at ail hours of the
day, and which we have relegated to the
evening anti to full drees occasions. How
much, by actual measure, do you sup
pose the average waist bas expanded in
two or three generations? It basgrown
from a thirteen or fourteen inch span,
like Richardson’s Pamela, whom her
lover could clasp with bis two hands, to a
subsiantial girth ol twenty-four or twenty
five inches.
“Doesn’t the dress reformer know that
the fashion of to-day is that there isn’t
any fashion at all? Individuality is the
fashion. Wnateveryou choose to wear,
that within certain very elastic limits
you can wear, and be as much in the
mode as your neighbor. Fashion doesn’t
call tor anything that you don’t choose to
put on. The more ot your own mind, your
own taste, your own whims, your own
caprice that you can put into your
clothes the more successfully dressed
you are. The oue woman who above
all others is not in the prevailing
style is the woman who is enslaved to a
model.
“Does anybody suppose that fashion re
quires corsets? ’Fashion doesn’t care so
long ae you have the art to make your
self acceptable to the eye whether there
is a single steel or the ghost ot a whaie
bone in your bodice. Is it fashion that
mattes a sine qua non ot tuetournure?
Not a bit of it. Press your draperies flat
as you like. If women choose to jump
like a flock ol sheep one after another
over a wall it is their own fancy in athlet
ics. That is not fashion. Fashion at
present rather smiles on brains. For the
daylight toilet, at least, nobody need
make a martyr of herself with a single
article ot apparel that is not hygienic,
and the woman who suffers is bringing
the woes on herself, not obeying ilrs.
Grundy’s will.
“Tne standard age at whioh little New
Yorkers put on tneir stays is 8 years,”
said a woman physician in busy practice
to whom 1 submitted Miss Booth’s view
of the irrepressible clothes question the
same afternoon. Call it Dame Fashion
or call it Dame Folly, tne results are
much the same in the long run to Hie.
Ask any dry goods dealer and he will tell
you that he never sold corsets for babies
so young or women so old before. The
stay habit is spreading at both ends ot
life, and directly or indirectly two thirds
ol my patients came to me through the
dressmakers thrall.”
tasked Miss Bertha von Hillern, as I
found her packing her trunks for asketch
ing tour in California, the other day,
wbat sort of apparel she found most con
venient and practicable for an active
woman living an out of door life. For
answer she showed me her outfit for
some mouths’ roughing it on foot; a light
weight blue flannel garb with blouse
waist loosely belted, short skirt and drap
ery sufficient to acknowledge a bowing
acquaintance with the conventionalities.
Soft, loose shoes and a wide felt hat com
pleted a toilet that was on the face of it
comfortable and eminently suited to the
uses to which it was to be put.
Omega.
THE EVOLUTION OF THE MUFF.
A Floral “Offering” Kxcites the
Wonder of Broadway.
New Yobk, April 9.—There is material
just now tor an interesting study of the
subject of muffs. The old-fasbioned notion
ot the muff was that it belonged to the
winter, and the idea has prevailed that it
was made most appropriately of iur. But
disabuse the mind, if possible, of preju
dice. The reason of the muff’s existence
is to spoil the carriage of the body in
walking, and only lucidentaliy to warm
a pair of daintily-gloved bands. This
premise granted, the way for tbe evolu
uoti oi the muff is open. Behold tbe spring
muff, tbe summer muff, the possibilties of
the muff lor any seasou of tbe year.
Tbe feminine brain has grasped the
situation; the uiuffot the luture has ap
peared. The path of progress lay from
the iur muff through the lace muff to that
final goal of one’s striving, tho flower
muff, summit of all effort. Tbe laoe m ff
appeared some months ago. Within fbe
fortnight it bas begun to show signs of
uneasiness, of approaching change. One
afternoon a bunch of tulips appeared
thrust into its interstices. It was the sig
nal for metamorphosis; the coming muff’
was readv to break its bonds.
I saw it on Broadway for the first time
yesterday; a floral muff unabashed and
unashamed; lilies of tbe valley just out of
tbe greenhouse woven together in the
oddest aud most intricate of nests that
ever held a lace handkerchief or a
change purse, and pansies nodding iu tbe
April wind. It was a curious notion and
mure than one pair of eyes followed its
triumphal course. The muff received
their homage with composure; it enjoyed
tbe brief crowning minute ol ita career,
it was alone oi Us son in the big city, but
to-morrow its imitators will be counted
by scores. lue flower muff withers, and
Us briei joys fade. It is not a very ser
viceable piece of apparel, but Lent has
been long and anything for a wimn.
The Juto-i play thing is ibu phot >graphio
oaineru, aud it is surprising how many
women there arc among its devotees. At
the lirst annual exhibition ol the amateur
jiuniographerso: ihe count: y, tie.d in New
York in"t week, sn.nu ol the beat bus of
woik aud a good ei.u ot those ijmaira
ting new processes were Irom Iduiuiie
panda. The new detective cameras, that
i iciend to fm u. at traveling cases, but
ea ch an * fled:V *to o giouplng In a
twinkling lor you with nobody the wiser,
are a godsend lo Urn woman with me ar
tist.c Instinct but wuuntil tbs artistic
laculiy, aud promises to taka tbut piucu
in thv summer vaoalom ouifl' iiiuuopo.
liz 1 hitherto by t m sketch book and
pencil. K p. H.
*'Jtnu N on I'tUrrh"
I nfracts offensive minis at uune. ITm
piele cure ul wmsl cuoiue eases; also
unequalod as gargle for diphtheria, sore
throat, ieul immitb, Mis.
THE “WHITE ROOM” CRAZE.
How it U Furnished and Upholster,
iu Satin Broeade,
New York. April 9._No sooner ha
we furnished our houses in sombrecolo
with dark mahogany *nd early E n ell,'
turniture sf black oak, whih apn fc .‘®“
worm-eaten, if it really was not, W h!r
lo! the dealers inaugurate a peneet or.,
lu white furniture, light-colored U n ß *f
stery goods, ana irom tbe dig*i*(.d
aristocratic English or colonial airi? 04
become imbued with the period i„ ,*
Kings. However, the dark rich lurnim 1
is too beautitul to .rive up without kit,./*
gle, and fashion now diotatoo that tno
who can afford it shall have each room !!
their residence furnished to represents
only a distinct period, but a certain cou!'
try as well. Thus w c have English ro
I reach rooms, colonial, Egyptian alui
Japanese apartments, according to th.
purse or fancy. “*
Tne first “white room” built in
York of any prominence is the an!,,
room in tbe Villard mansion, now ovrma
and occupied by Mr. YVhitelaw Reid y!,
floor is highly polished in light colors
woods, and tbe entire apartment is 7'
ivory white, picked out with gold, and in
the panels of the walls medallions n
lutes, ribbons and scrolls of music.
A handsome “white room” has ibefloor
of polished wood, with here aud tber#
white Astrakhan rug; the furniture is of
white, picked out w ith gold, upholstered
in white satin brocade; the curtains and
other draperies are of white plush am
broidered with gold: the picture iram es
are white and gold; a white easel stands
in one corner and a white and gold piano
It makes a most beautiful apartmeut. Not
long ago 1 described this room to a clever
young w lie who lives iu uu adjacent town’
-he bas comparatively little money o U [
excellent taste; recently she invited ine
to see her “W hite room,” which she snr
prilled me by stating w as all tne result if
her own ingenuity and cost but imi*.
1 be wood floor baa been stained and yv[.
ished to look like cherry, and several
white fox rugs, which cost about s3s#
were laid here and there. She had Ucught
several of the tripod legged tablet with
pice tops; tbe legs sue painted white nidi
gilt lines, using the liquid gilding. Tie
tops were covered with white plush and
another with white felt, with yellow saim
bows at the corners and gold fringe. Joe
also made a mantel scarf of white plush
trimmed with yellow bows. Au old-:an!
toned bigu-backed kitchen chair she paint
ed white and made for it a yellow piush
cushion. Oue of the ordinary Shaker
rocking chairs was also painted woke
and gold, and over the red and black
braided seat she had tacked white felt,
with some yellow flowers embroidered
upon it, while the back was decorated
with a yellow Chinese silk scarf, flams
grew in common flower pots, painted
w hite; an easel was madeoi pine, painted
white, while oyer the mantel was an old
fashioned ovai mirror, suen as used to be
used fifteen years ago. Between windows
she bad hung the mirror lengthwise and
painted its common black wamut frame
white, looping a white 1U scarf, witt
gold figures, around it. A milking stool
also painted white, with a bunch ot yel.
lew dowers painted upon the seat, stood
n a corner; at the windows were walte
China silk curtains, tied back with yeilnw
bows. These curtains, being of the same
material as silk handkerchiefs, of course
wash as well. Old disused walnut pic
ture frames were aiso painted and glided
to match the ether articles. And a beau
tiiul wall bracket was made of a square
of pine board to which was nailed three
little shelves put on irregularly like three
steps. This also was painted white, gild
ed on the edge 9 of the shelves aud uung
up by screw eyes, which were concealed
by yellow bows, a pretty yellow. Leeds
vase was one of the ornaments, a waits
candlestick whioh held a yellow twisted
caudle, a choice bit of Royal Worcester,
wuicn were among her possessions, and,
of course, other ornaments about tue
apartment. A bird sang iu a brass cage,
narmonizing with the decorations. I wish
everybody could see that room; the effect
was like fairyland, and in spue of tain
fact tne pretty owner ot all lulormed me
that this charming result was leached ai
a cost not exceeding sio. It would be dil
oult for me te suv which was the more
beautiful, the “white room” of my wealthy
Irieud with its gorgeousness aud waits
piano, whiou apartment cost iu the neigh
borhood oi SIO,OOO, or tnat of tne pre.ty
young housewiie who, with little money
but much taste aud industry, had creaied
an apartment unique, beautiful ana, bet
ter man all, snowiug uer own individu
ality. Evelyn Baker Harviku.
THE BUsJiLK.
A Painful Humor that They are to be
Abandoned.
New York, April 9.—There is a rumor
afloat that bustles are eoon to be aban
doned aad clinging Greek draperies adopt
ed. It is to be hoped that this report,
which, by tbe way. comes direct Irom
Paris, rests upon a substantial basis,ior,
while so severe a style ot dress as ue
Grecian is not becoming to all nineteenth
century feminine forme, it is sale lo give
it precedence over the bustle, which n
becoming to no human being under the
sun aud can never, by any process of in
genuity, be made to lend itself toaugai
approaching grace. .
1 happened to see last week the beauti
ful daughter ot a distinguished New toil
lawyer and lecturer dressed iu aoosiums
that every artist would admire, aud, 01
course, we are all artists in one way or
another. The girl herself was tall n
statuesque, with dark hair and very reg
ular features. Her gown was of sou
white oashmere, sleeveless and
on tbe shoulders by heavy 8°
clasps with sapphires. The robe wa
innocent of draperies and “dress >■“•
orover.” It fitted loosely to me “*•
ure. displaying, however, every •
and was confined at the waisl by awn _
silken scarf knotted careUssly on
side. Tbe edge of tbe skirt was embrow
ered in gold thread. It was at an even *
teceptiou tnat leaugbtstkhtof ~
lul aud picturesque figure standing
in bold contrast to the be-hooped, be
tied, he-laced women who surrounded 1 •
It made me nope for better things j
way of womanly outline. It goes wiU *
saying that a gown of the sort ju
scribed is not meant for fat downs
sorawney maidens somewhat past
youth; but, then, neither are bust ■
CLARA LA>*A.
“Bough on Corns.’ „
Ask for Wells’ “Rough on ' born •
Quick relief, complete cure. Corns,
bunions. lt>e. _
LK .lON Kl IXIB-
A Pleasant Lemon Drink.
Flftv cents and ono dollar per 0
Sold by druggists. . 0 .
Prepared by H. MOZLBY, M. 1 •.
U > ab|
For biliousness and constlpat' o "
Lemon Elixir. . tak*
For indi.estlon and foul stom
Lemon Elixir. . tak*
For sink and nervous bsadaobs
Lemon Elixir. . tak*
For sl'“p,essues and nervousn
Lemon Elixir. a.iuiiiy t M
For loss of appetite und debiiivr
Lemon Elixir. _ taM
For livers, chill* - g ’ri*
lenwn Elitir, all of whioh dlsea
from a torpid or diseased liver- I
1.-iuuu llul Drops
ciire all coughs, colds, hoarse** •
throat, bionohllis, and lbri !„,|4 Ifl
lung dtsouses. Price Vt ic.iff.l
ilrugglsis. Prepared bv ,r - 1 j
AtUuin, Os., iu both liquid u H
i mm. ■

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