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THE BABY SHAD
Its Development as Witnessed at the
fish Commission Station.
WHY THIS FISH IS SO PLENTIFUL
A Picturesque Phase of the Work
at the Fishing Shore.
HAULING THE SEINE
Written Exclusively for The Evening Star.
UST NOW, WHEN
"most savory shad"
?is most savory;
when the river is so
full of Us countless
schools that the fish
erman is abusing the
same fates for giving
him too many fish
which he abused a
few years ago for
not giving h i m
enough, is a favor
able chance to see
llow the fish you had yesterday probably
got Its start in life. You should take half
an hour and drop into the central station
of the United States fish commission to
observe how some of nature's methods have
been improved upon by man, and how he
has discounted her boasted economy.
The large, stone-flagged apartment on the
ground floor of the establishment is oc
cupied in part by six or eight large tables,
each surmounted by a dcuble row of glass
hatching jars arranged in series of twelve
around small aquaria. The jars are from
one-half to two-thirds full of shad eggs,
which are kept in constant agitation by a
stream of water introduced through a tube
Tlie Gillera* Camp.
Connected with a general supply pipe above,
and are joined by an overflow siphon to the
aquarium, whither the young fish are con
veyed as soon as hatched.
You may see, in the different jars, every
stage of the entire process of development,
from the condition just after fertilization,
when the egg is no more than a tiny trans
parent sphere, about the size of a small
pea, until the first shadowy outlines of the
embryo appear and gradually assume the
form of a fish, wriggling for a day or so
with increasing vigor until it breaks the
shell. It is so nearly transparent that
without close observation you will see but
little of the animal except two very bright
eyes, even so late as the third day, when
the fish is on the point of being hatched.
But under a microscope the changes can
be watched and recorded from moment to
moment, and the rapidity with which they
follow each other Is astonishing. Compared
with the weary dawdling of a setting hen
the celerity of development is marvelous.
In a very minutes after the egg has been
Impregnated one side of the yolk has swol
len perceptibly into a small, elevated disk,
which gradually spreads over about one
half of the sphere, and shortly you can dis
cern upon it the rapidly growing outline of
Immediately the eyes, which are the first
of the seise organs to be developed, ap
pear at one end and at the other the tail
begins to bud. At the end of the second
day in the jar this appendage has sprouted
to considerable length and the little fellow
Is able to flirt Itself about in the narrow
confines of the egg. Some time during the
next twenty-four hours it will break
through, and after a struggle has set It
free from the incumbrance of the broken
Bhell It will swim about in the jar until
the overflow carries it into the receiving
tank to join some hundreds of thousands
of its fellows.
The fresh-hatched shad has little of the
beauty and symmetry of the full-grown
fish. His countenance, in the first place,
is indicative of callowness and vapidity. In
the second, his shape is spoiled by the
enormous distension of his abdomen, to
which is attached a considerable portion of
the original yelk. But in this his beauty has
been sacrificed to a very praiseworthy
utility. He will subsist upon this yelk for
nearly a week without having to hunt for
a mouthful, and will thus be able to de
vote his entire attention to his education.
The Line of Tcntn.
Before the contents of his larder have been
absorbed the fish will be planted in some
tidal stream to make his own living and at
last to go down to the sea for the winter.
Thus the young shad is given* at least the
shadow of a ghost of a chance to live to ma
turity, which under nature's haphazard
method.it would scarcely seem to have. Un
told thousands perish in the egg to every
one that is hatched; whereas, the proportion
lost in artificial propagation is infinitesi
mal. It is this manner of manipulation
which has saved the shad fishery of the
Potomac from almost complete extinction,
and the best possible commentary upon the
fish commission's work is the present glut
of the market. In 1878 the product of the
fisheries of this river, whose value had
steadily decreased after the war, amounted |
to about 18G,000 shad. Today these fish are i
so plentiful that it Is hardly profitable to
catch them, and many shores have sus
pended operations. But the most pic- I
turesque phase of the work is to be seen
at the collecting station at Bryan's Point, j
some fifteen miles down the river. Uncle
Sam operates a fishing shore there, with all
Its interesting accessories of old boat
house, seine boat, capstans and negro seine
haulers, supplemented by the half martial
appearance loaned by the line of tents oc
cupied as quarters by the employes. This
Station was formerly at Fort Washington,
fout when the War Department commenced
the construction of the new battery at that
t>oint it was transferred, the buildings
Were floated down, hauled ashore and set
up 1n their present situation.
The "berth" is only leased, however,
though it is likely that some day the com
mission will acquire permanent possession
*nd establish appropriate buildings and
rearing ponds. At present the men enjoy
the luxuries of camp life?with' different
decrees of satisfaction. But it is not an
entirely disagreeable experience when the
weather is good, for though the hours are
somewhat irregular the work is not ar
duous. The spawn takers are conveyed
down the river each day and dropped off
at the various fishing shores and gill net
fishermen's camps for the purpose of se
curing the eggs, and as the tide is about
thirty minutes later in every twenty-four !
hours it happens that at times they are i
up nearly all night. But this is about the
extent of their hardships.
There is nothing dry about a seine haul,
either figuratively to the spectator or lit
erally to the operators, and the big darkey
fishermen in rubber hip boots are the
equals in every respect of artistic interest
of those of Holland or Normandy, so often
painted and described. When the tide
serves they are summoned from their qiAr
ters adjoining the boat house. whence J
hive heard the occasional notes 01 ine
fiddle and banjo. They wade out tum
ble into the long shanow selue boat
ihe stern of which is piled the net,ana
with the regularity of w?w!thn?ir"ya
nar's-men they drive her with nearly a
score ? oars out into the stream and over
aFrommthSeest^1Cis paid out. first, some
hundred yards of hauling Hne. tlien a vast
length of seine. A curve of nearly a mne
hrlrcs the boat ashore again and all
hinds lay hold of the seine for a long,
wUrv way. The men wade well out inio
IS SiS S'iSHiflyjg
stoDS and the swearing begins.
a ? hang" is a sunken log, a stump or
other malicious device of 'j|e "c^lo?
ZTn. ^rrcaTcu\ha?edUtok olt^otn
xto fiftv yards of net and to cause a
fanity but the statement was made by a
A Ughter ls brought alongside and the
ers begins. The herring are separaied from
Ff ^Hdgandhfaromathese^re seethe
arePready for spawning. From these the
eels and milt are taken by pressing the
thirty-sfx hours development before ship
PThendnlghtase'lne haul Is even more Inter
erceeyAs8ethT boat dashes away from the
accompaniment ot X
breeze, you have emotions which you would
"rtaSeta abrare?ha?mony there-the night
the P^Wwaterjethe gentle ?f_?Jhlch
makes you yearn for an immortal power of
makes you y make It permanent, that
pe" ?i-rht share Its charm with those who
you might snare its e You look
ining a feeent leak^^h.s rubber h???;
he is not in a .? . superannuated
expression pcrswde > poetry as you
carried away by .he ? f*1 ^ into giving
-Good evening, uncle. It is
"l.fht.- you say. as a starte . ^ )g
I says to my ? wo?hjn. shoV An' ihe
gwine down to d. sho]y ,g a foo],
says, sass ?,h?' h~u'matics down t'roo de
Gwine totin jo r . Jak you wa3
wet erass an trompi BUt.ny km be
a if?n?'eaKut gcod Ian'. Wen de stahs Is
a idjit. Bu g ljp-hts on de sho is a
a-twlnkl n , an de: g breeze i3 a-blowin'
glimmerin an a line (s a_haulin.
lak dis .iah. an l de o]ft man
seine an" a-smrin , wny & mes3 0- cat.
?lesW Yah,3 yah! Deed he is! "Deed he is.
Mr. Squlnter?"Why don't you look where
Mr. Joker?"Why don't you go where
"A Lunic, Sweaty Pull."
FIELDS AND WOODS
The Abundance, Beauty and Variety
of Wild Flowers.
IN THE MARKETS AND ON THE STREETS
Where They Come From and How
They Are Obtained.
tt-^ROM the time
when the memory of
man runneth not, the
people of Washington
have boasted of their
could be found the
thousand and one
good things which in
the mind of so many
make life worth liv
ing. But while the
have a full supply of
all the substantiate
and delicacies which tempt the sense of
taste, not until recent years have the peo
ple had their sense of sight delighted by the
sweet-smelling masses of llowers now to be
daily seen in the Washington markets.
Today, stand after stand, covered with
growing plants and flowers, and with cut
flowers as well, gladdens the eyes of every
one visiting the piarkets. The floral dis
plays in the Washington markets are, in
deed, wonderful, and are an endless source
of pleasure to all visiting them, particu
larly so to those strangers who rightly con
sider our markets points of real and at
There are other floral displays, however.
In which appear the sweet and innocent
dwellers of the fields and woods. But these
displays are made not within the walls of
the markets, but on the sidewalks and
roadways about them. They are brought
to the city by the country folks and by the
colored men. women and children, whose
natural picturesqueness is one of the feat
ures even today of the Washington mar
kets. Keeping pace with the production
and sale of the cultivated flowers, the
abundance and demand for the wild flowers
Abundance of Flower*.
Where, a few years ago, two or three va
rieties of these inhabitants of the fields and
woods were offered for sale, today are seen
a score or more. The country about the
city Is remarkable not only for the numer
ous varieties of wild flowers, but as well
for their delicacy and beauty. One has to
go but a little way outside of the city to
gather a beautiful bunch of these flowers.
But most of those seen in the markets
come from beyond the limits of the Dis
trict. The hills and valleys about Arling
ton furnish many, as do the river banks
and fields above the Aqueduct and Chain
bridges. The neighboring counties of
Maryland are no leis generous, and while
fiowers are plentiful throughout the fields
and woods of the District, the supply from
the outside is by far the largest.
The first wild flower to appear In the
markets Is the delicately perfumed arbutus,
which comes in March. Quickly following
.It comes the wood or field violet, the per
fumeless cousin of the English violet. Then
come the yellow buttercups; the morning
stars, white, star-shaped, long-stemmed
flowers: Innocence, tiny blue flowers, upon
slender stents; (Quaker bonnets, small, dark
blue clustered flowers; wood anemone, or
wind flower; azalea, or swamp honey
suckle or pink; may apple; pansy violets,
or Johnny jump-ups; columbine; Dutch
man's breeches; Jack in the pulpit, and
then the daisies, or, as they are known to
some people, white weeds, and with the*n
come the cone flowers, or yellow daisies.
And about the time the humble little
daisies are In the markets and on the
streets the swamp magnolia,with its sweet,
pervading perfume, makes its welcome bow.
Recently has been found on sale what Is
called by the country people who sell it
California or Russian clover.
It has a rather attractive appearance and
in the fields a number of them look not un
like a patch of ripe strawberries. Then,
too. arc sold in the markets crabapple blos
soms, wild cherry blossoms, dogwood, and,
not infrequently, branches of peach and
Effect on the Mnrliet.
But not only are wild flowers sold in the
markets, but also in great quantities on
the streets. Of course, their sale has to
some slight extent affected the demand for
cultivated flowers, but not nearly so much,
stated a well-known florist to a Star re
porter, as might be expected. The class of
people, he explained, purchasing the wild
varieties are altogether different from those
purchasing cultivated stock, the difference
being mainly a matter of mere taste. Then,
too, said another florist, the wild flowers
flourish when nearly every one is growing
flowers and at a season of the year when
cultivated cut flowers are in light demand
Of course, some varieties of wild flowers
have been cultivated, the daisy being the
most prominent one, perhaps, but such
cultivation is not attempted to any great
extent. Most often a wild variety is culti
vated because of some reigning fad, al
though in some cases the natural attract
iveness ot the flower secures for it such an
honor. The fad today, however, Is the wild
flower pure and simple, and not to have a
bunch of them on the street or at home Is
to confess your Ignorance of quite the
proper thing, you know!
CRIPPLES WERE HEALED.
An AmiiHlnK Incident of Scml-Snvoge
Rule In tlie Hnwiillnn Inlands.
From the Pacific Commerriai Advertiser.
Judge Austin of Hilo relates some In
teresting experiences of his own while sec
retary to Princess Ruth, in 1854. At that
time she was the governess of Hawaii.
He had been appointed secretary, but
with orders from Kamehameha III that
Keellkolani should never interfere with his
work. In that year there was a large
gathering of the natives at Kailua, com
manded to assemble by her In order to
explain to the people the tax laws and to
ei force the payment of taxes. A large
lar.ai was provided. In which the meeting
took place, and she proposed to address
It was the unwritten law that the very
old and Infirm, ail cripples and incurables,
should be exempt from taxation. The na
tives were unwilling to pay taxes, so they
prepared for the meeting.
Many who were young men and in the
best physical condition came in, appear
ing to be doubled up with disease. Many
used stairs anil walked with trembling
steps. Some walked slowly, coughing at
every step. Some held up a leg and ap
peared to be cripples. One enterprising
native appeared on a stretcher, carried by
four of his companions. When the assem
bly opened it appeared like a hospital with
out a well pereon in it, and it numbered
several hundred. The princess made a
brief address, and was followed by her
secretary, Judge Austin, who told them
that all present would have to pay taxes,
a3 there was nothing the matter with them.
At once there was a commotion. The
men who were doubled up straightened
themselves out. The coughing stopped.
The men with "game" legs moved about
quickly. The man who came in on a
stretcher got up and made a speech to the
crowd, showing that he had a very poor
opinion of the government. JThe staffs
were flung aside. In a few moments a
fine stalwart body of men were seen tak
ing the mountain road and moving off with
perfect ease, and the lanal was littered
with the debris of the materials they had
used In making themselves apparent crip
plea and Infirm.
From the New York Weekly.
Crack Boat Builder?"Ah! How-de-do,
Mr. Rlchman? How did that rowboat I
made you last summer suit?"
Mr. Rlchman?"Perfectly I"
"Ah! I'm glad to hear It. I always like
to give satisfaction. Suited perfectly, eh?"
"Yes. I left It In front of toy boat house
all summer, and every scalawag who tried
to steal it got upset or drowned."
A WOMAN OF ,fIHE FUTURE
W. J. Lampton in Life. , j ,r
How silvery soft the inoon shone clown
upon the world that riigtot in June. How
sweetly tha fragrance* -of the roses came
and went upon the brea/tihing air; and the
great errth throbbed to the gentle pulses
of two tende * hearts thatibeat as one.
I had known Herbert .'Martin but two
weeks, yet in that brief space my whole
future was bound up in his life, and I wait
ed only for that sweet:smile of encourage
ment which should be the signal for me to
lay all the burden of my wishes, my hopes
and my fears at his feet.
And cn this night in June I had asked
him to walk with me to the old tree in the
lawn, where we had spent so many happy
hours since first I had met him and known
the sunshine of his presence.
"Dear Herbert," I said, after we had
communed for a few moments beneath the
giant arms of the great oak, "I have some
thing to say to you."
"I am sure, Miss Linger," he said, with
the coy grace of an old-fashioned girl, !
'that whatever you may have to say it will
?a P,easure for me to hear."
"But I am not so sure, Herbert," I re
sponded with that deep doub* which must i
come to every sincere soul at such a mo
ment as this.
"How could you say anything to me, Miss
.Linger, that would not please me?" he ask
The moon came peering through the
leaves above us, and as a silver line of
? if? ?? across his fair young face I saw
the silver turn to pink upon his white fore
i ou know," I said, with my heart beat
ing iaster each moment, "that a woman
may say some things to a man that have
.?vpo'to chanee his whole life."
. ies; he almost whispered. "I think I
..t **eaci of such things in novels."
In love stories?" I asked, laughing softly.
*hey were," he smiled,
i ? sho01d say them to you, Her
1.1- 8toPP3d and tried to catch the light
in his great brown eyes
^.nOW' Miss Linger," he whisper
ed. What it would be like "
i? .oa" me -Miss Linger.' " I ex
claimed, impetuously. "Call me Eliza "
he blushed" 1 *"*** With me lf 1 do?"
..Jj^"gry with you, Herbert?" I said.
How eouid I be angry with you^ You
who were created for the birds to sing to"
darting*' 5owc^rie?ber-ngry W"h y?U'
those' thln? .?he Said; "you mustn't say
things to me. X am too young to
woman Pana^h"15 f,r?m you or from an>"
women' iXro always told me that
n.-i/tlr ?! .f 1r waiting and willing to
"R?t ^5 1 1 must not listen."
things"?'I JL?.U ,,ot 'ove to hear such
mine ""swered. taking his hand In
sighehde.ysa0fetlyhe Sweetest 1 ever he"d." he
berfnfh'?ftVyid you,that 1 loved you, Her
oend'ed ^ r ove my who'e life de
a desert to me " ,he wor,d wouM
were not in lf your <iear hand
guide I wn?M t, .,>e my Rentle ?tay and
fo ,he ar?r th7h ,er away an<1 he >?st
I^Iit That YouId you think?" ' |
I waited anxiously for his an<jw0?.
Ca,"wh0n^'hat depen<3ed so much
V ? you say It' Eliza?" he asked
V> fh'nk of Herbert saving that
iarn"ureofWiIul7liIIW<1 '"?thed in the fuli
-h- . . guileiessness, and had wnr
shiped as the one altogether artless
both hi0CnK aJtef'" 1 exc'aimed. catching
both his hands in mine, and kissing him
?" ?n%; azinK cheek in spite of his strug
gles. Oh >ou more than wise oharmer
H?0imanKln. Do you thns doubt me?"
hi?i laughed with a cute chirp, as of a
bird, and smoothed out his rumpled neck
Wh? shouldn't-1, when you preface
H ai'?n Wi,h ,hat hateful Mr?" he
of thear3usteicms?e?td l? the faFther end
"But you know that I love ycu, Herbert "
1 !rts'3'eJ- "How could I help oving you?"
mnnnl! ?.taS^ e when O'le is in lh?
moonlight of a night in June," he said
tenderly as he gazed upward at the stars.
, easy to love you. Herbert, under
?n w 'eUmS,al\Cwes- To Iove ls nothing; not
to love you is the task."
"How nicely you talk. Papa was right
when he told me how the women could
natter when they tried."
irn^hlm1 ,S',eak so' dear one'" 1 urged,draw
mg mm to me once more.
"Women are deceivers ever," he laughed
anS h8 the revised version of the old poet!
fook ?n 1 ki"? my eyes wlth that
frnm f k . .J J k"eW C0U,d COme only
from a heart that beat true to mine, what
eXei m'Rht say to put me oft
sc'uare in the face you
i.1 y , 8 e wlzard," I said, tak
ing his face in my two hands and holding
him there, and listen to what I tell you:
I, ^ you; I love you; I love you."
'And?" he added with a great overgrown
Interrogation point after it.
"And I shall love you forever."
"And?" he questioned again.
?.wan* you *? *ove me the same."
?,? n agrail\ the Interrogation, no less
smaller grown by so much use.
i '\Ancl 1 lo?e you more every minute I
look at you."
??And?" ever the "and," with that ques
tioning inflection which coaxes an answer,
?i w^nt you to be my own dear lit
tle husband, forever and ever, Herbert."
"Dear Eliza," he said in a tone of relief
so sweetly. I thought it was the stars
singing together as in the old time, and he
laid his head upon my shoulder and I felt
the clinging grasp of a hand that would
be in my hand until death should come
and take It away.
"Darling," I murmured and our lips met.
Even so. and as the nights of later Junes
come to us again, and the moon lets down
its silver chords to bind us together to
that one night in June when first we
started upon the path our feet have trod
so happily since, I can only be thankful
that I have won Herbert's love, and that
as he clung to me then, he clings to me
still, and my loving care and protection
have been to him all that his dear heart
I could have wished.
As for myself, there are no heights to
which I may attain that with me Herbert
| shall not go as a husband whose great
love makes him the equal of his wife in all
, the honors the world may confer upon her.
A perfect husband, nobly planned,
To love, to comfort and command.
Written for The Evening Star.
"The city of magnificent distances!"?
Ay, so it ls, though erst in scorn so named;
Yet other titles well may be by't claimed?
The city of magnificent forest trees,
And city of flowers, for it is both of these,
But chief, the last?of Flora's fairest famed
From Outre-Mer, and those wise Art has tamed,
The free-born wildlings of our woods and leas.
They smile along its green-parked avenues;
Its statued squares and, circles quaintly fill
In groups that every n^pon new blooms disclose;
They charm it with sweet odom and bright hues,
The city of flowers, from the first daffodil
Till fall the lust chry&nthenium and rose.
A Dirthdn?* Rondeau.
(May 6.) <-f
I wish you Joy on this you? natal, flay,
When flowers deck cartlij green'leaves garb every
tree, ' 1
And love's sweet impulse*.all hearts haste to obey;
When air grows mild, the Jheavens soft hues display,
| And the glad streams dajice on .with melody.
1 Methinks for you the birds more blithesomely
Sing, while the West breathes blesiing, and with me
Joins merry May, rejoicing, when I say,
(I wish you joy.
Not only now, but In the years to be,
May all the best life boftsts attend your way?
Love, and esteem, and great felicity;
Yea, whether, as now, a maiden fair and free,
Or, some time, blushing in a bride's array,
I wiuh you Joy.
?W. L. SHOEMAKER.
Their Idea of Life.
From the Cincinnati Tribune.
"The great trouble with young men who
want to see life," remarked the corn-fed
philosopher, "is that they imagine that
there is none of it worth seeing by day
The Silver Linings.
Chicagoan?"What ls the most pleasing
discovery "you've made since your stay
New Yorker?"The fact that there are
two hundred trains leaving daily."
Some of the Stylish Dcjiigns for Golf, j
Hunting-, Yachting:, See.
A woman who lays any claim at all to |
being In the swell set now prepares for the j
summer sporting season, exactly as a man
does She has to have her hunting boots i
and climbing shoes, her guns and golf
sticks, tennis rackets and togs, just as
men have them, though, as a matter of
course the racket has a bow of ribbon to
match the predominant color in her frockt
and her gun and fishing rod have a stream
er or two somewhere
about them. A wo
man is a woman,
wherever you find
her, and she wears
her trousers and high
boots with a greater
difference than does
a man who dons her
dress on occasion.
She's bound to catch
them up when she
crosses a puddle of
water on her heels,
and she never will
learn that she must
not sit on her coat
tails. But she goes
on acquiring a liking for both just the
same. Whether one likes it or not, one has
got to "lump it," as the children say, and
lock to see women wearing abbreviated
skirts and none at all, pretty much every
place one goes this summer, because wo
men are going in for "sporting" more than
Golf will be one of the fads till it wears
out A very good authority says that golf
is especially well adapted for women, in
fact, about the most rational outdoor game
that women can play. A woman who plays (
golf has got to be dressed for it. She can't
go out in a trim long-tailed gown and com
pete with her less conventional sister in
long distance tramping over the "links."
Her shoes should be easy, her skirts above
her ankles and loose and flowing, her cor
sets must give her room to expand, and a
blouse is the only comfortable thing for a
* White duck and whipcord and white
pique make bewitching golf gowns, with
blouses of soft bright silk. One young
debutante will play golf this summer in a
white wool crepon
skirt that is banded
with three rows of
red satin, and a
blouse of the same
shade of surah. It's
stunning and no mis
take. Being one of
the "snow maidens"
who never gets flush
ed when exercising,
she can stand those
colors, not many
could. A soft, firm
serge makes the best
skirt, and under it
should be worn Turk
ish trousers of silk _
almost the same color. The silk affords
less resistance than any other material for
an underskirt for a woman who wishes to
do much walking.
For hunting, fishing and mountain climb
ing a very different dress is necessary.
The acecptable one comes just a little be
low the knees, where it meets long but
toned leather leggings, which are drawn
over boots laced high on the leg. In some
cases the boots lace nearly to the knees,
and then the leggings are dispensed with.
The skirt ought to be of some heavy, firm
woolen goods and have very little fullness
in it, and not a bit of trimming, as a mat
ter of course. Jersey web trousers to wear
under it, and a coat and waistcoat com
plete the costume, in which a woman can
get about just as well as a man. A soft
hat of the Alpine variety should be worn,
and all attempts at coquettish head dress
laid aside. One or two misguided women
are planning white serge hunting dresses!
It would take at least two a day to keep
them presentable. The woman who does
not want to be counted a nuisance on an
"expedition" will always attire herself sim
ply and pack as 4ittle luggage as possible.
The place to display pretty and effective
toilets is aboard a yacht. The yachting
dress is susceptible of exquisitely dainty ar
rangement, and the woman so fortunate as
to get invited to take
a trip aboard one of
the elegant yachts so
common about the
places on the coast
can please herself
and Dame Fashion
too by selecting al
most any elegant ma
terial she likes, so
she gives it a nautical
touch In make. Of
course, serges and
mohairs, crepons and
cravenette are the
most serviceable, and
white with braidings
of blue or red the most popular. It isn't ad
visable to put any more frills on them than
on the hunting dress, though Vandyke em
broidery and heavy lace is sometimes em
ployed about the shoulders as in the illus
tration. Unless you want a neck like tan
ned leather, don't bare it in sailor fashion
to the sea wind's kisses. They are unkind
to a dainty skin. The regular sailor waist
is not so popular now as the chic little
jacket, but it may give way to the plain
back and blouse front before the season is
over, as everything else bids fair to do.
CAT AND DOG FRIENDS.
L Slight Misunderstanding: Which
Was Satisfactorily Explained.
Tommy Kirby is>a cat. His habitat Is on
Capitol Hill Among his many friends and
admirers Tommy Kirby numbers a large
Newfoundland dog, called Jack, who lives
at the same house with Tommy Kirby
The two are often seen in each other'
company, and on hot afternoons take their
siestas on the same back porch in the
most amiable, friendly fashion. They
have a most thorough understanding, and
on meeting after a brief separation will
express their mutual satisfaction in short
cries and ejaculations in their own lan
guage, which they seem perfectly to under
stand. The other afternoon Newfoundland
Jack lay wrapped in slumber iij the yard.
Tommy Kirby came out and, after look
ing up and down the causeway, concluded
to go over and visit a friend named Billy,
who was himself a cat of worth, and be
longed to Tommy ?Kirby's set. He was
picking his way across the street with
that dignity and composure that some cats
assume, when he encountered a strar.ge
dog. The dog was disposed to make it
case of assault and battery. Now, Tommy
Kirby is a cat of great valor, end the
neighborhood has night after night rung
with his war whoops.
Instead of flying from his assailant he
came to a full stop; made green his eyes;
enlarged his tail until it looked as if it
was meant to clean lamp chimneys, and
gave his back an arch of much hauteur.
Then he spat with exceeding emphasis, and
as one who announced himself ready for
the worst. When Tommy Kirby had thus
fixed himself, what they would in St.
Louis call his tout ensemble very much
daunted the strange dog.
Instead of rushing wildly in and rending
Tommy Kirby as he had at first proposed,
he gave way to clamorous barkings. This
uproar aroused Newfoundland Jack, who
came tearing to the scene. Never having
beheld his friend Tommy Kirby in this
heroic guise Newfoundland Jack utterly
failed to recognize him. Being a dog of
vigorous methods he unhesitatingly as
sailed "Tommy Kirby out of hand. Such
base behavior on the part of his friend and
ally was too much for the composure of
Tommy Kirby. He straightened the arch
out of his spinal column, lowered his tail
and fled with a screech of painod surprise.
Then It was that Newfoundland Jack
recognized him. He looked after Tommy
Kirby, while grief and remorse shone in
his eyes. He was full of apology to the
brim. This lasted for a moment, and then
the meditations of Newfoundland Jack
took a new turn. He. abruptly fell upon
the strange dog, whose caitiff uproar had
gotten him into this mess, and gave him
such a trouncing as few dogs get, and
which sent the strange dog howling from
the scene at a faster pace even than that
of Tommy Kirby. The next day Newfound
land Jack and Tommy Kirby were seen
sedately walking the yard together; so
they must have made mutual explanations.
Where They Hang It.
From the Indianapolis Journal.
"You remember Daubyn's new picture
that he went about praising to the skies?"
"Well, that was where the committee
Drew the Rigrht Inference.
Prom the Chicago Record.
The Girl?"Lottie told me the other day
that she had no idea of such a thing as
The Other Girls (after a pause)?"I wonder
what his name is?"
.jitlARU OPKIll HOtSE.
NEW OPERA HOUSE
The Building Which Will Occupy the Old
Blaine House Site.
Steel ConNlracUnn Will Be Inert?A
Description of the Interior unci
the Hoof Garden.
The Lafayette Square .Opera House,
which is being erected upon the site of the
old Blaine residence on Madison place, just
above Pennsylvania avenue, will be com
pleted and ready for occupancy next Sep
tember. Mr. John W. Albaugh, the well
known and popular theatrical manager,
will assume the management of the new
theater upon completion, and promises to
make it strictly a first-class house of amuse
The new building will have a frontage of
nearly seventy feet, with a depth of 146
feet, with public alleys on three sides, thus
affording ample exits. The ground contains
about 10,000 square feet. Madison place is
ninety feet wide, including a thirty-five
foot pavement and parking. The building
will be six stories in height, with a roof
garden. The work will be pushed as rapid
ly as pcsslble, in order to open on Monday,
September 23 next, as has been arranged.
The work of excavation has been com
pleted, and the steel frame construction is
under headway. This mode of construction
has been adopted throughout the building,
from the basement to the highest point in
the roof garden, which will tend, it is
claimed, to make it one ?f the few abso
lutely fire-proof theaters in the country.
The foundations are composed of a frame
work of columns of steel, built on concrete
seven feet thick. The buff brick which will
fill in the skeleton frame of the building
will serve merely as a protection from the
The style of the exterior will be of the
classic Grecian order. It will be built of
gray polished granite to the portico, above
the* first story, and buff brick ornamented
with buff terra cotta will constitute the re
mainder of the front elevation. The col
umns of the .colonnade in front of the first
story will be of polished granite. The
drawing from which the cut accompanying
this article was made was prepared by
Messrs. Wood & Lovell of Chicago, the
architects of the building, located in the
basement of the building will be Turkish
baths, the fioor and walls being laid in
tiling and white marble; and in addition a
barber shop and toilet rooms. The struc
ture will be lighted throughout by elec
tricity and heated by steam, the dynamos
and engines to be located under the rear
alley and separated frcm the main build
ing by a fire-proof wall.
The main entrance to the theater will bfl
thirty-six feet wide and only a couple of
steps up from the sidewalk, and opening
into a lobby which will be finished in ma
hogany and floored in mosaics, from which
two broad marble staircases will lead to the
upper floors. The office." of the theater
will be in the northwest corner of the build
ing. In the southwest corner will be the
elevators. The house will have a seating
capacity of 1,800. In the auditorium the
foyer will not be railed off, but marked by
statues and ornamental vases. The main
floor, which will be laid in tiling, will rise
in five tiers, and a feature will be Its con
struction on the cantilever plan, so that
there will be only two supporting columns
on the main floor and three in the balco
nies. None of these will interfere with a
view of the stage from any seat in the
house, as they are set in the rear of the
last row. The chairs will be of iron, with
leaher seats and backs of mahogany, and
will be fastened to a wooden strip embedded
in the floor for that purpose. There will be
no center aisle, means of egress being fur
nished by two side aisles sloping directly
to the stage.
Above the auditorium will be a mezzan
ine floor, divided into thirty stalls, ^eating
from four to eight persons each. There
will be sixteen proscenium boxes, eight on
either side, adjoining a reception room and
promenade. The ornamentation of the
fronts of the balconies will be composed of
artistic wrought steel, as will also be the
doors throughout the building. A new fea
ture will be the ceiling, which will slope
down to the top of the proscenium arch,
thus forming an immense sounding board.
The ceilings of the proscenium boxes will
also rise in a series of curved sound boards,
which will greatly increase the acoustic
properties of the house. The latest im
proved system-of ventilation will be used.
The stage, like the other parts of the
building, is also to be constructed of fire
proor material, and equlrp&d with the latest
fire-proof scenery. A rigging loft, sixty
five feet above the stage floor, will be
erected, from which all the scenery and
drops will be operated. Beneath this loft
will be a narrow gallery, on either side of
which will be the steel ropes and pulleys
used In securing the scenery work from
the stage floor. A handsomely painted as
bestos curtain will be raised and lowered
by an electrical arrangement connected
with the rack of the musical director.
A roof garden, accommodating 1,500 peo
ple, will be connected with other portions
of the house by two commodious elevators.
The new theater will open on the date
stated with the Lillian Russell Comic Op
era Company, in a new opera by De Koven
and Smith.. J. M. Wood is personally su
perintending the construction of the build
ing and PauUO. Connor is the contractor.
THE LAMP SHADE.
A Great Industry Born of the Demand
for These Trifles.
From the New York Times
The e\ olution of the lamp shade has been
of mushroom growth. We all remember
the little green pasteboard affair, with its
pictures of family groups and landscapes
of impossible nature, which decorated the
family drop-light barely ten years ago. Its
present representative has opened a very
broad avenue of trade, and a corresponding
one in the exercise of talent and artistic
ingenuity. Little thought the woman, whose
subtle instincts of art and beauty led her
to first fold a bit of colored tissue paper
around her porcelain lamp shade to screen
the eyes, what she was bringing into the
world. Little she dreamed of the beauty,
art and delicacy of color she was ushering
in on the one hand, and the important in
dustry, with all the ramifications of such
industry, on the other. That feminine
touch for taste and comfort has changed
frcm a tiny bud to a full-grown flower of
great beauty. Alas, that the dark roots
end vigorous branches which give it exist
ence should be repeating the same old story
of avarice and profit.
It is too true that the sweating system
pervades the manufacture of these airy
trifles, as it does that of practical shirts,
coats and trousers. Poor pay ^.iose meas
ures, long hours, pale faces, ceaseless labor
for a starved existence?inese belong to the
g? s?amer shades as to the prosaic clothing
The production of lamp shades is an
enormous business. The majority seen in
the shop windows are made by the whole
sale in great work rooms In the large cities.
One may reflect, while looking at them,
that hundreds of gentle girls and older wo
men are seated all day long, plying the
reedle as fast as they may, for pay depends
upon the number of shades turned out in a
day. The work is generally done by the
piece, so the incentive to labor rapidly is
A good trimmer can make two piano
lamp shades in a day, for which she may
receive $1 or $2 apiece, according to the
amount of labor and elegance of the affair.
Prices for cheaper and smaller shades
range from ten cents up. Very small can
dle shades are quickly worked off, and a
good hand can cover four or six a day.
Considering the price of these little and big
elegancies to the purchaser, the cost of
labor is a bagatelle, and the reflection is
obvious that "some cne" makes money in
the business. Notwithstanding this dispro
portion between the price paid by the con
sumer and the cost of production, so keen
4s the desire for profit that at least*one big
manufacturing house, it is said, sends
frames and materials to Mexico, where
they are made up for a few cents.
Material is cut and made into packr^es
ready for the individual worker by fore
women. Shirring, gathering and plaiting
are largely done by machine in piece.
Extra fine materiel is intrusted only to
expert workers, and they do all the detail
by hand. Like all trades, there are the
gocd, bad and indifferent workers, and
prices are p\id accordingly, but even with
fair workers it is found hard to make a
few dollars ovsr living expenses.
lilt It at Once.
Prom the New York Commercial Advertiser.
"Can I see you apart for a moment?"
"You mean alone, don't you?"
"Yes; a loan?that's it exactly. I want to
borrow a dollar."
The Old Man's Idea.
From the Indianp polls Journal.
"Gosh!" said Mr. Jason, stopping on the
corner and turning clear around to get an
other look at the young woman passing by,
"kissing a girl with them sleeves on must
be nigh the same as tunr.elin' into a ging
ham sunbonnet, like a fellow had to do
when I was a boy."
Evolution from a P. D. Q. locomotlv
DO.V'T TALK TO THE BABY.
Mothers Often Do Serious Harm by
Much Talking? and Fondling;.
From the Philadelphia Times.
"What, not talk to my baby!" exclaimed
the young mother, who sat holding hef
three-months-old baby and chattering to it
with the fond foolishness of which young
mothers are capable.
"No. my dear; don't talk to him so much,
not nearly so much," replied the older wo
man. "Dear as he is, you must not forget
how delicate in every way a tiny baby is."
The young mother was sobered, but not
convinced. "How can it possibly hurt him?"
she asked. "He cannot understand me, and
I do so love to see him smile and answer
my talk with his happy look."
"Which proves that he does understand,
and in his way replies to your loving talk;
and it is that which is the strain. You
take beautiful care to feed the baby with
the greatest exactness and to keep him
clothed daintily and comfortably, and that
is right. His brains, however, are just as
weak and undeveloped as is his body. What
his small mind needs most is rest, and
when you talk to him the tax on his men
tality is beyond its strength. It is like hur
rying the unfolding of a rose by pulling the
leaves of the bud apart.
"Of course, all babies are not so sensitive,
but I know of a little six-months baby, a
little girl, who has been very ill of serious
brain trouble, wholly brought on by the
continued attentions of a large and admir
ing circle of friends proud of an unusually
bright baby. Another baby girl of eighteen
months began to droop, apparently for no
reason; nothing helped her, though much
was tried. The puzzled physician instituted
careful inquiry, and found that she had
been coaxed to dance a little each day, be
cause 'it was so cute to see her.' An im
mediate stopping of the practice, with rest
and quiet, restored her to health again. A
young babe cannot be kept too much like a
little animal; let him sleep and eat, and
eat to sleep again, keeping him in cool,
well-ventilated rooms and not too much in
strong light, either of the sun or artificial
"Be advised early, and let your baby
alone. Let him grow naturally, and not by
any forcing process. One more don't.
Don't send him to ride on noisy streets,
under the elevated roa?ts, or along the trol
ley or cable lines. Those are not nerve
soothing places for an outing to an adult,
much less to a tender, delicate baby."
SWALLOWED HIS BATON.
A French Drum Mnjor Who Introduc
ed a New Aet.
From the New York World.
A decidedly unique variation of a drum
major's usual performance when on re
view occurs In one of the French regi
ments of the line?or, rather, did occur?
for the colonel of that regiment has now
put down his foot and issued a positive fiat
that his subordinate shall henceforward
confine himself to orthodox tricks.
The musical leader In question had at one
period of his life been a mountebank, and
evidently a good one. for, after practicing
in secret a number of times, he astonished
the regiment, drawn up in review one day,
by suddenly throwing his stick high in air,
catching it in his mouth upon its descent,
and swallowing fully half of it. Having
accomplished this gastronomic diversion,
he stood for a moment while the spec
tators gazed in awed amazement, and then
disgorged the half of the baton which he
had swallowed and continued his march
down the line.
He repeated this trick a good many times
and the regiment was very proud of him,
but it brought it such an unenviable repu
tation that the colonel finally had to stop
him. New his performance Is thoroughly
to the president of the road.?Life.