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Written for The Evening Star.
"The bone solo," remarked an old minstrel j?erformer to a Star reporter, "though once very popular, is rwjarde-1 as a hoodoo In the burnt cork profession and is never al lowed any more u? der any circumstances. It is feared as much as the yellow clarionet, ?which, according to the superstitions of the show business, is one of the mo3t fatal things that exist- The yellow clarionet not only induces bad?that Is, poor busi ngs?but in addition to this it causes trouble among performers, produces rail road accidents, and. in short, it winds per formers and comj-anies up. There was a tine in the inlnstrel business when it was Just as natural to have a l>one solo played by some performer during the evening as It ?was to have a ballad sung, and the public to^k as kinlly to one as it did the other. There was scarcely any difference between bone solos. They all sounded about the same anl the imitations were always stere otyped. Every bone soloist went through the sa me performance, and used a chair in the center of the stage to heighten the ef fect. Who of the hundreds and hundreds of thousands who have heard a bone solo played can forget the imitations of the starting at:l stjpping of a railroad train; the battle, the charge and repulse; sawing ?Rood, a.id others equally familiar, livery bone loloist thought it was necessary to give an imitation of a two-forty hor^e go in-' up the road, and especially to imitate the sounds of the trotter crossing a bridge. H.: verly lirst put the ban on bone solos, an i one of the clauses in the contracts he made with performers was that they would tot under any circumstances while they Trre in his employ, either in private or pub lie. attempt a bone solo. No minstrel per former can explain where the hoodoo conies Jr. but they fear it worse than any of the other omens ot bad luck." * ? * ? ? "The general impression that exists and has existed for so long a time that the teeth of the negro?man. woman and child? ?were harder than and superior to those of the white man," volunteered a leading den tist to a Star reporter, '"never had much foundation in fact, and has less now than ever. Though the teeth of the colored race look very white and strong. It is a fact that there are today more bad teeth in propor tion to numbers among them than the whites. Feeling that they were specially blessed in this regard, the colored people have never been as careful with their teeth as the whites. Another thing not generally known is that if It was not for the work of drawing teeth of colored per sons many of the country dentists could not exist. The colored man or woman takes no chances in the matter of his or her teeth. If the teeth give them pain they Insist on having them drawn, and nothing else will satisfy them, it is no use to say to them that by the proper treatment? lilling. bridging and other work?their teeth c^iu be saved for years, if not permanently. They insist on ha.ir.g their aching teeth drawn, and manage to chew up their food without them. It is a very rare thing for colored people, except among the more Intelligent, to have any false teeth put in. There was a time, no doubt, when the col ored race had stronger teeth than the ?whiles, but that was years ago. and the conditions which then favored the negro are now against him. The moment the colored man gave up eating corn bread two and three times a day. that moment his teeth began to go through the same ex periences as those of the whites. * * * * * "If the late Jerry Rusk had been Secre tary of Agriculture two or three months longer than he was he would have issued a tx ok on The Trotting Horse,' which would have been in as much demand as his other book. Diseases of the Horse,1 the circula tion of which has been phenomenally large," said a prominent horse raiser to a Star reporter. "He had had prepared nearly all the matter for the book and had the work divided up among experts, in the same way as he had 'Diseases of the Horse written, tach chapter l>eing prepared by a person Specially competent to write it. The work v.-as to be handsomely and generously illus trated by photogravures. The late Senators Btockhrldge. Stanford and others who were Interested in horse raising, and especially raising the speed horse, had secured for the work photographs of all the best fami lies of trotting horses bred in this coun try. and besides, had furnished a great deal of information on the subject. The article on Ambassador, the famous Mich igan sire, had been prepared by Senator Stock bridge hir.iself. while that on Elec tioneer. the king of trotting sires, would have l> er. the work of Senator Stanford. The theory of these gentlemen was, and In inis Secretary Husk concurred heartily, that It Is no more expense to raise a fine bred horse than it is a common horse. In one rase hardly ???"? couid be expected to be realized from the horse, and seldom that amount, while in the other, the care fully br. i horse, there did not appear to l>e any limit to the price. Senator Stock bridge ga\; many instances where he sold hors?-s for *lo>, l.ut after he gave some at tention to the breeding his prices rose into the thousands, the average price of Ambassador eolts being over Senator Stanford in his article instanced the case of the famous mare Beautiful Bells, owned by him. In twelve years she had nine colts, which ranged in price from $5,000 to each, the latter being the price se cured for Arion. now owned by J. Malcolm Forbes of Boston. Arion was foaled while President Harrison and Secretary Husk were \isiting Senator Stanford's farm in California, and originally was named by President Harrison, who was asked to give th^ colt a name. Baby McKee. Mr. Forbes change'1 the nam upon becoming the own er. Th-- total received for the colts of Beautiful Bells has been over $200,000, or as much as could be secured by raising common-bred horses. Secretary Rusk had no trouble In seeing that the big money in horse raising was in horses of fashionable breeding, or those which, in turf parlance, bred on, that is, became faster and faster in each generation. As I say. the book was almost ready to go to press when Secretary Rusk got enthusias tically interested In President Harrison's campaign for re-election. He temporarily laid aside the book until the campaign was over, and the result being the opposite of what was ?xpected he gave it up for his successor to finish, and that seems to have be?*n the end of the matter." * * * * % "Though the Chinaman keeps the laundry." explained a colored woman who Is fully poste-l on the subject, "and is sup posed to "wasnee washee,* the average CI" in a man seidoin. If ever, washes an ar ticle that comes into his laundry. It is not because he cannot wash, for the Chinaman can wash if he wants to, but because he does not want to, and will not If he can avoid it. He is perfectly willing to do the ironing and polishing, and does it. The reason why a Chinaman cannot Co washing is because he insists on wear ing long linger na'ls, some of them from a quarter to a half inch in length. These ?re his pride, and a heavy day's washing would wear them away. Therefore, in stead of doing tne washing himself, lie hires others to do his laundry work proper. They prefer to employ men to do the washing, but as there are not many men, colored or white, who know how to wash, they ?*re forced to employ women. They do not like to have women about their places, however, and get rid of them the moment their washing is done. Some time Ago the Chinamen paid as high mm seventy HQS WEARD five cents a day to men and women who ?i<l their washing, or four dollars per week, the washers providing their own meals. Since the Chinamen cut their own rate in consequence of the competition among the two factions of Chinese who are es tablished in this c'ty, they pay but sixty cents per day for washing, or three dollars per week, where they hire help by the *(fk. As a rule, they prefer to have their work done by the day." ? * * ? * "Economy and stinginess are two differ ent things," observed a gentleman to a Star reporter. "I have had considerable ex ferienee in collecting money for a univers ity and other religious ard educational work, and I have always found that my largest contributions came from the men and women w+io were most economical. The free and easy, the spendthrift and the people who have their purse at their fin ger's entl, seldom give any large sums for universities or other great work. They con tent themselves with letting their money go out as readily and as easily as it comes in. but 111 small packages. When I start out for a subscription from those who have secured wealth by economy, I feel that I am more likely to succeed and succeed handsomely than I do when I lay siege on ihose who got their mony easily. Some time ago I had occasion to visit New York and the offices of two or three very promi nent men to get them interested in a Washington university. It happened that the day I called at the office of one of them, another gentleman I wanted to see WiiS also there. As I entered the room I found them complaining to the office mes senger because he had cut the cord from a bvndle rather than untie the knots in it. These men were economical In everything that related to their business, and It was i ut natural that they should resent any waste. They both subscribed handsomely to the work I presented to them, though many that I met spoke of them as being stingy. I had a similar experience in this city. As I was entering the house of a well-known gentleman I met a lady coming out. I knew the lady, and spoke to her and as-ked if the gentleman I wanted to see was in his house. She told me that he was, and that she had Just had an experience with him that convinced her that he was the stingiest man in the city. She explained to me that she had Just settled up a finan cial matter with him. released a mortgage for a rather large sum, and that in the cal culation for the interest it was found that there were a certain number of dollars due and twenty-flve cents; that she had asked him to strike off the twenty-flve cents, so that she could draw an even check, and that he had declined to do so. insisting on every penny due, which she had paid. Though she thought this prejudiced me i gainst him, it had the opposite effect, and it was not many minutes afterward when without very much solicitation from me he gave me the entire check he had received from her. for the university. It was his habits of economy and strict business trans ections, not stinginess, that made him de mand up to the last cent that what was due him. He gave it all over to me with much easier grace than she gave up her check for the odd twe<nty-five cents. The lady. I may mention, has no idea of what economy is, for she or none of her family has ever practiced it." SIDEWALK PHILOSOPHY. A Sore Way of Determining; the Itcnaty of n Woman. A Star reporter was walking down Penn sylvania aveme the other afternoon with a friend. The latter was'a close observer, an all-around philosopher and logician. He is something of a Conan Doyle in the way with which he reasons out his deductions. It Is very seldom, tco, that he fails to land on the solar plexus in this respect. A fine-looking lady was walking down the avenue in front of the two pedestrians. The lady had a good figure, was welt dress ed, and from the distance of probably fifty feet which intervened between the two men and th? supposedly beautiful lady she might have been taken for a Diana. "I'll wager the mysterious female is as beautiful as Venus and as lovely as Aphro dite." said the newspaper man to the other. "Make it a half dozen choice cigars and I'll go you," raid the other. "Far from be ing pretty, I am positive that she is abso lutely homely. "That's a go," said the reporter, and bcth increased their speed so as to over take the lady who had been walking ahead of them for probably a block. As she was passed the plotters turned and looked at her; in such a manner, however, as not to disconcert her, and then passed on. The reporter acknowledged that he had lost, without attempting in the least to save his bet. There was no use, for the lady was really ugly, there was no doubt about that. She was terribly plain, and the difference between the appearance of her face and what might have been expected from her figure and general make-up was surprising. "If you'll give me the secret by which you found that out I will throw in another half dozen cigars," is what the newspaper man told his friend. "That's the easiest thing in the world, if you just tumble to the fact once," said tho other. "If you had noticed, as I did, that although several men passed'the lady, com ing in our direction, not one of them took the trouble to more than glance at her. Some of them did not look at her at all. If she had been good-looking these men would have given her more than a glance. If she had been pretty they would have let their eyes rest upon her at least until she had gotten past them. If she had been as beau tiful as you imagined they would have turned their heads to look at her. I noted this, and I made my bet on this conclusion. Just try it yourself, and you will see that I am correct." The experiment was tried during a fur ther walk down the avenue, and it was found that the idea panned out exactly. Literary Value of Wle'kednesa. From the Literary Digest. That the villain of a play or a story Is ge-nerally the most interesting character In It has been discovered by most readers at an early period of life. Charles Leonard Moore. In commenting upon literary values in general, after references to the literary value of style, of invention, of observation, and of enthusiasm in one's own creations, turns aside for a moment to mark the Im portant part assigned In Action to wicked ness?a subject, one may remark In pass ing. that would afford ample material for much more than the incidental treatment which he gives It. We quote from his arti cle In the Dial: "The fact that an author has enjoyed a character is one test of its reality. Jane Austen evidently delighted In her curates, whereas Charlotte Bronte half hated and wholly despised hers. The difference is felt. There is hardly any one in Shakes peare's world?villains, criminals or fools Included?whom he did not evidently love, hardly any one against whom he would have been willing to draw an indictment. "It is curious. Indeed, that wickedness and weakness force themselves to the front as the protagonists of almost every drama. Great literature is the biography of criminals and fools. Average morality and avetage intelligence are not the stuff out of which to create characters that will Interest. Evil, lnde<?d. seems to be the en ?rgt tic force of the universe, and is the cause of the obstacles and collisions from which events spring. Every great creative poet is a Manichean. In spite of himself, Milton was forced to make the devil his hero; and Richardson was shocked to dis cover that his Lovelace was a most at tractive monster. The populace are willing to pay for crime. Nothing sells a news paper like a murder. Even in the natural world, those lurid villains of nature's melodrama, the lightning and the storm, get infinitely more spectators than the milder and beneflcent agencies of sunlight and dew. Goethe said that he had learned from Polygnotus that our business on this earth was to enact hell. Except Poe and Hawthorne, no American writer has ever had any suspicion of this fact. Ever since that adventure In Boston harbor, there has been a flavor of tea In all New England literature." FOR SiLENCE WAS GOLDEN The Philosopher said he wanted to talk about marriage, and then he talked after this fashion, although with the Philosopher quotations are not allowable: This is all about marriage, and I have not been married In the past few weeks, either. I ha,-e been married so long that my wife never thinks of calling me mister even before my sixth cousin. She calls me mister when talking to the milkman, and I suppose that Is honor enough. One of my main reasons for getting married was to have some one to elevate me to the al titude of mister, and, lo and behold, I was unable to breathe the rarified air for more than six months, when I dropped back into the valley of Jims and Jacks. Speaking of this matter, I once knew an old lady up north who made herself awfully unpopular with a young couple just on this line. Sam Green had only been married a short time when Aunt Debby called on the bride, whom, as well as the groom, she had known since their teething stage. "Come right in. Aunt Deb," said the young wife, when the old lady appeared at the gate. "Come right in and set down; Mr. Green has Just run down to the post office, but " "Mister who?" said Aunt Debbie. "Mr. Green?Sam?my husband," with a blush. "Land sakes alive," ejaculated Aunt Deb bie, "has that good-for-nothing, shiftless, sawed-off Sam Green actually got some one to call him mister?" All this, however, is straying from the point I started to reach, which, now I come to think about it, wasn't marriage, either. I started out to relate a little in cident connected with marriage, which may serve as an example to other husbands. In .Cairo, Egypt, not many years since, the American consul general was a young mail from Kansas, without any acquaint ance whatever with khedives and poten tates, but with a fair knowledge of kings and queens and spades and an intimate knowledge of fun, whether found among the aristocratic denizens of Shepheard's or in the picturesque Arab quarter. Up to the time of his arrival in Cairo our consul gen eral s idea of dress for the male portion of humanity had been confined to long froek coats or dress coats, with turn-down col lars and black string ties. The presence, therefore, on constant guard in front of the consulate of two dark-skinned Arabs in now mg white and gold robes and curved and sparkling sclmeters, was a matter of constant awe and admiration to him. ihese two individuals served the United tatates at a joint salary amounting to al most $ly per month, but they were beautl tul in grave faces, spotless turbans, pic turesque robes and gaudy weapons. Jn themselves they were well worth the price or admission, but one of them, and he the graver and more graceful of the pair, had a wife. Like so many wives, this wife refused to be awed by the imposing get-up. She utterly disclaimed any intention of calling her liege lord mister, and on frequent oc casions would drop around and hold ani mated conversations with him on the street in front of the consulate, during which af fairs she would express her opinions of him and his sex In earnest Arabic. This sort of thing was too much for even the easy-going nature of the gentleman from Kansas, and one day, after a more than usually exciting family affair on the side walk, he called the dignified husband to his presence. "Suloman, who is that woman?" "She is my wife, oh, guardian of the stars." "Well, I am a man of few words and lib eral ideas. I am Trom Kansas, and have associated with Susan B. Anthony and Mrs. Lease. I don't expect the impossible, and therefore I don't tell you to keep your wife from talking, but understand that you have got to stop her from doing her talk ing around this consulate, and that's straight, see." "Oh. child of the sun and brother of the moon, It shall be as you say," and Suloman departed with a profund salaam. After that the peace and quiet around the house could be cut with a knife. The hot sun glistened on the turbans of the sentinels, the little donkeys went scurry ing by, now and then a long, ungainly camel passed with noiseless footsteps, but no woman, wife or maid broke the calm of the square. Several days later the consul general, entranced at the eace after the storm, felt called upon to compliment Sulo man upon his success. "You have done nobly, my boy, and I intend to raise your salary ?.ll per month, if the government will stand it." "It Is nothing, most high; she will come no more." "If I felt real sure of that I would make it $.13." "It is certain, oh, glory of the world and ruler of the winds; I have divorced her." "What!! Great heavens, man, I didn't mean anything of that kind." "Calm yourself, lord of the west, it is nothing. You are my master. Your word is law. You pay well and I do nothing but stand In the sun. Not one nor 500 wives could come between me and such ease. Be sides. I have married her already three years. It is done, I have divorced her, and today. If your smile light upon me and give me the afternoon, I marry a woman dumb since her birth. The Philosopher said the only moral to his story was the information that Cairo can be reached in about fifteen days. Walk Oner u Wedding. From the New Orleans Times-Democrat. The cakc walk proper had Its origin among the French negroes of Louisiana more than a century ago. There is little doubt that It Is an offshoot of some of the old French country dances. It resembles several of them in form. From New Or leans it spread over the entire south, and thence north. It was found of convenience to the plantation negroes. They were not wedded by license, and it was seldom that the services of a preacher were called in. At a cake walk a man might legitimately show l.is preference for a woman, and thus publicly claim her for a wife. In effect the cake walk was not different from the old Scotch marriage, which required only public acknowledgment from the contract ing parties. So this festival became In some sense a wooing, an acceptance or rejection and a ceremory. This explains its popularity with the blacks, outside of its beauties, with the accompaniment of music, which is competent at all times to command negro support. Cake walking has Improved, as do most things that are constantly practiced. It has lost its old signilicarce in the south. Negroes now get married In white folks' fashion. It has be come, however, a pantomime dance. Prop erly performed It Is a beautiful one. The cake is not much of a prize, though the r egro has a sweet tooth. Golf Daft. From Life. Between fifty and fifty thousand con temporary Americans are golf-mad. There is no dcubt about the prevalence of the mania, but the number of the afflicted is hard to estimate. It is a case like that of the three little pigs, who Jumped about so much that the child could not count them. The golfiacs, who are far gone in their delusion, straggle about so and enjoy such a vast publicity that they seem an army, whereas it may be they are only a squad. Golf can't last at the pace it is going now. It ought to be squelched in the interest of its own permanency. Family Record*. Indignant parent?"You are a very naughty boy. Tommy, telling a lib like that! 1 never told fiba when I was a little boyi" Impenitent ton?"When did you begin, then, fathwr , READING "How many volumes can a man read In the course of a year?" was the question recently put by a Star reporter to a gentle man whose ^Ime is largely employed as a book reviewer on .otie of the leading maga zines. jf "Well," said the/gentleman, pointing to a row ot bookL "thjre is a collected edition of the English po^Sp. The work only comes down to Cowper, ftpho died in 1800, but it comprises twentyAne volumes royal 8vo, double columns,' mall type. Kach volume averages 7<M*pages. This gives a total of 14,700 pagtsjTor 29,400 columns. Now It takes?1 ha^ mate the experiment?four minutes to ftad a^column of such matter with fair attention. Here, then, is a good year's work in reading over, only once, carefully, a selection from the English poets. "The amount of reading, however, which a student can get through in a given time hardly admits of being measured. The rate of reading varies with the interest one takes In the subject matter of a book. In other words, a page of Kaut's Critique of Pure Reason requires proportionally more ?thorough attention than the latest work of fiction. Still, just to have something to go by, It will be found pretty accurate to make a calculation like this: Suppose a i.ian to be able to read eight hours a day. No one can really give his receptive or critical at tention to printed matter for eight ho:irs regularly every day. But take eight hours as the outside possibility. Thirty pages 8vo is an average hour's read, taking ore book with another.. This would mane 240 pages per day, 1,480 per week and 87,;'.'? pages in the year. Taking the average thickness of an 8vo volume as 'too pages only, the quantity of reading matter which an intelligent student can get over in a year is no more than an amount equal to about 220 volumes 8vo. Of course, this Is merely a mechanical computatlin by which I would not pretend to gauge the reading capacity of the average student. But it may be interesting to know that the merely mechanical limit of study is some 22) vol umes Svo per annum." FOOLSCAP PAPER, Was First Mndc by Order of the Ramp Parliament. "Nearly everybody knows what "foolscap' paper Is. but there are probably few peo ple who know just how it came to bear that name," said a large wholesale station er in New York to the writer yesterday. "In order to increase his revenues Charles I of England granted certain privileges amounting to monopolies, and among these was the manufacture of writing paper, the exclusive right of which was sold to cer tain parties, who grew wealthy and en riched the government at the expense of those who were obliged to use such paper. At that time all English paper bore the royal coat-of-arms in water marks. But when the parliament under Cromwell came into power it made sport of this law In e\ery possible manner, and among other indignities to the memory of Charles it' was ordered that the royal arms be removed from the paper, and that a fool's cap and bells should be used as a substitute. When the Hump parliament was prorogued these were also removed; but paper of the size of the parliamentary journals, which is usually seventeen by fourteen Inches, still bears the nam^of foolscap in England. "In this Coventry foolscap was used large ly by lawyers, writers and other profession al men for copying purposes until a few years after the civil war, when a smaller single sheet at paper, known as legal cap, was introduced, "phen came the typewrit ing machines, requiring the manufacture of a paper of suitable size for copying, and today there IS-very little demand for fools cap outside of- a few school rooms. i, ? ? BROTHERLY SARCASM. One Lawyer SmrneMK to Another the Mintnkr He Hade. Down in a Virginia town there lives a lawyer, one Major Blank, who Is powerful ly disliked by,,all tjie other lawyers in the place. So atronf; l&.thl3.. antagonism to the major that tl*? other lawyers', will not even have an office In'the sgjne building with Mm. In the same town Is'd' former Judge, who is so gorift-inaturedrthat he will even be on terms wi^h the unpopular major. Recently it happened that the Judge gave up his offices J*ist p.cross the hall from a law firm, and the majbr hearing of it slipped in and rented them bo/ore anybody else had a chanpe at them. When the firm across the hall heard of it they showed their appreciation of the major by giving him JGO not to move in as their neighbor. Of course, they didn't put it exactly that way, but that was exactly what they meant. Then the Judge met the major. "I got fifty dollars for my bargain, judge," said the major, who didn't see the point at all. "So I heard, so I heard," responded the judge, as if he were not pleased to death with the major's luck, "and I'm sorry to hear it. I always knew you had a great head f ir fine financial transactions, major, but you missed it badly this time." "Missed it?" exclaimed the major, In much surprise "How do you mean?" "You ecld out too cheap, major; too oheap. You could have got twice as much if you had held out for It," and as the judge rubb-id bis hands unctuously the major beg2n to regret that he had put his figures so lew, but he never suspected the judge. Joke on the Doss. From the Detroit Free Pre##. The r. an who was doing the talking has endured a good many hard knocks while making a successful way through the world, and, like most persons who have survived such experience, has very de cided opinions of his own. "I've ;ilwpys regarded women as the weaker vessel," he said, "but want to say right here that Mrs. Slims is a very remarkable person. I don't believe she could tell a Pereheron from a Kentucky thoroughbred, yet I saw her st;,rt a balky horse the other day after twenty men and boys had been beat ing, kicking and cursing the poor brute for half an hour. The persuasion she used was a couple of lumps of sugar and a few kind words. "But ii. was just yesterday that she con vinced me of her great superiority. You can gauge her knowledge of dogs from the fact that she paid $o for a long-haired mongrel puppy under the impression that she was buying an ftristooratic pug. Slims has a bull terrier that's a. professional fighter, and Torton, who lives next door, owns a big St. Bernard. Tho two dogs began an argument through the fence, and the larger one simplified matters by crashing through a board into Slims' yard. The whole neighborhood was soon engaged In an efTort to part them. Strong hands tugged at talis, legs and ears. Clubs were freely used, water was dashed upon the belligerents arid the? stern orders for them to "break awdy' coifld be heard blocks off. When Mrs. Slims 'appeared on the scene she seemed to grasp tho situation Jn one terrified glarftfe. She flew into the hou3e, dashed out again, and Inside of a minute had the savage fighters slinking away from each other." ~ "How did she do it?" "Bottle of ammonia. Surest thing on earth to break up a dog fight, and It's original with her. Why, those two terrible beasts quit like pet^heep, and the joke of it is that each dojt thinks tho other ad ministered the awftrt dose. Thoy never see each other now that they do not curl their noses as though suKJlng ammonia, and trot briskly in opposite directions." Squeaked (lice Too Often. From Span Moments. Maccabe, the ventriloquist, was a great practical Joker. Several years ago he was on board a river steamboat, and, having made friends with the engineer, was al lowed the freedom of the engine room. Presently a certain part of the machinery began to creak. The engineer oiled it and went about his duties. In the course of a few minutes the creaking was heard again, and the engineer rushed over, oil can la hand, to fubrieate the same crank. Again he resumed his post, but It was only a few minutes before the sama old crank was creaking louder than ever. "Oreat Jupiter!" he yelled, "the thing's bewitched." More oil was administered, bat the en gineer began to smell a rat. Pretty soon the crank squeaked again, when, slipping up behind Maccabe, he squirted half a pint of oil down the Jokefs back. "There," said he, "I guess that crank won't squeak any mora." WAITERS AND THEIR WAYS "Every man about town Is familiar with the waiter, but It la only a superficial fa miliarity at best," remarked a commercial traveler to a Star reporter yesterday. "The roiseless and urbane figure in full dress fliU across his gastronomic vision only for h moment, and gets no more than a passing glance, or a passing quarter. Now I, In traveling about from one city to another, have made a 3tury of the waiters and I ob serve that he has an individuality of his own. There are many types of waiters, and class distinctions are as closely drawn as in ary other walk of life. All nationalities, creeds, and previous conditions of servitude are represented. I "There is the French waiter. Perhaps he I is a count, perhaps he isn't; but whether or I no, the grace and dextdkity of his move- I ments suffer not. His field of operations is I the first-class hotel, restaurant or club, and I he is always seen in faultless evening dress. I His coat is of the blackest of black broad- I cloth and fits him like a glove. His trous ers are ditto, and an immaculate expanse I of linen relieves the otherwise somborness I of his attire. You sit down to dine. He ap- I pears at the end of the table. You do not I hear him coming, you do not see him until I he is at your elbow. There is only one I hinge in his body?at the waist. He bends I it, and lays the menu under your nose. The I hinge straightens him up again, and he I waits. You order; he disappears. Then I you wait. It may be for a minute. It may I be longer. j "He reappears with a pyramid of smok- I ing dishes, flecks imaginary crumbs from j the table cloth, and without clatter or I clash, a good dinner is before you. His Idea of Arithmetic. "Being an American, you gulp down your I dinner as fast as your jaws will let you, I and all the while the waiter's eyes are upon I you. Then, when you have finished, he is I at your elbow again with the check. You I give him a bank note. This is where his I arithmetic comes in. No matter what the I denomination of the note or the amount of I tlie check, he will so lix the change that I there Is a quarter and a ten-cent piece in I It. You ^give him either or nothing, as I your generosity or principle dictates. He pockets the either or the nothing with the I same air of Imperturbable gravity, but if it I Is the nothing, you put on your topcoat I ycurself. If it is the ten-cent piece he I simply holds the coat for you: if the quar- I ter, the coat is put on, your undercoat pull- I ed down, and the collar neatly arranged. "Then there is the German. He may also I be a count with a long name split in the middle with a 'von.' His methods are I closely allied to his French brother's. He is equally noiseless, polite and deft and equal ly on hand when the fees are to be given I out. He Is somewhat broader In figure, and broader in his manner of serving you, but he gets there just the same. Have him wait on you and you will soon recognize this. "The colored waiters' dusky presence comes and goes like the seasons. He is here today and you miss him tomorrow. Seme hotel autocrats, yclept clerks, declare that he is not so submissive as of yore, and entertains a high and mighty opinion of himself. This, however, may bo an unjust color line drawn by the aforesaid autocrats, for the fact remains that the colored man and brother continues to handle dishes In n.any first-class hotels and restaurants in nearly every city of the United States with his 'old-time' dexterity and dispatch. On the Iionerj*. "But it is the 'hash-handler' of the cofTee-and-cake saloons who stands forth in startling originality. Ha- is a distinct specimen of the genus waiter. He may be tall or short, stout or lean, but Is always pale and round-shouldered. He wears a collar and a necktie, or he doesn't, accord ing to his fancy or early training. His shoes are always too large for his feet and he never lifts them off the floor when he moves. His Btock in trade is a semi sarcastic. semi-blaze expression, and a long string of outlandish and original titles for the ordinary articles to be found on the bill of fare. Order a steak. He will call It 'one slaughter house.' Epgs fried on one side are white wings with the sunny side up. 'One with the light out* is his yell for Coffee without milk and beans minus pork is 'a brass band without a leader.' His chief hold on popularity Is his dense Ignorance of fees. He never thinks of one, never looks for one. and seldom, if ever, gets one. He will stand twentv feet from you, and shy your check at the'table. I ractice has made him perfect in this, and tho piece of pasteboard will drop beside your plate. Sometimes it will fall Into vour soup, but if It does you have struck a new hand at the business. "Like other branches of labor the waiter has his union. Besides this he belongs to the Amity Club, the Columbian Club, the L nlted Waiters' Association, and the In ternational Society. These are benevolent institutions and takes care of their mem bers when illness or accident prevents them from taking care of themselves " THE BETTER BARGAIN. Considering; the Price of the Palpit and of the Preacher. "I can remember very distinctly," the minister was saying, "when I was in very I truth passing through the wilderness of my ' calling, hoping every day, and never quite doubting that after awhile Canaan would gladden my eyes and give rest to my weary mind and body, for I think when a preach er's row is hard to hoe It is very hard in deed. My salary was about $40 a year, and what 1 could pick up, and the picking wasn't anything to boast of. The bulk of what salary I did get was paid by a most exemplary Christian womtn of our congre gation, who also very largely met the other expenses of the church; tut as she was rich for the section in which she lived the bur dun was not too heavy. "But the poor little church was nearly as badly dilapidated as its poor little pastor, and after a year or two of preaching in it, the pulpit became so unstable that I was J afraid it would fall down with me, and in order to reduce the strein upon it to the minimum I restrained my emphasis to such an extent that the congregation complained of my lack of animation. Upon this I went to see the main prop and pillar of the churclj- I told her what was needed and what she already knew as well as I did, but she shook her head. " 'Well, I can't preach in It unless some thing is done,' I said, with considerably mere emphasis than I would have used In the pulpit. " 'How much will it cost?" she asked. " 'About thirty-four dollars.' " 'Thirty-four dollars?' she nearly shriek ed: then let her voice tall. 'I guess,' she I said, 'we'd better change preachers.' And for the year or so I staid there I preached from the pulpit steps." One View of the Jubilee Presents. Phil May la Sketch. I M.C "Well, and wot's the queen cola' to do with alt them jewels and things as was give to 'erf" "She can't wes? 'em &1L We'd know wot to do with 'era. Bin. tf it was only tarara of diamonds wot she got." PHILANDER. jOHNSOri* Written for The Eveninjr fUr. The Li (chining. Mistuh I^ecturla >ity, way up In de cloud. Reckon you'd break loose an' git me ef you was allowed! _ Wonduh how de city-folks keeps llvin' dat a-way, Pushin' froo de week, like ebry day was mahket day? ^ '^road y Wha^ to 'urnish him an easy WhiIexp^odeTS a'rUmmaff'n'- a? rea^ ^ I d .."Ve Way otC sume Place an watch im in de sky, Whaef hiSS LeCtUr'SSi'y cant ketch me 1 kn^,.I1doesn' ?tan- out as a mahk o" ?pedal note, BUt bLlaM?;hrnter some,""es shoots de blackbird, jes' foh spoht. n- It's as like as not dat hell pick ou: some no-count scamp An" chase 'im wif a street-car or else bun, 'im wif a lamp. So, whah's de use o- resks, when fum rum cabin, day by day, ? I kin see de storms a-gatherin' or kin watch de sun-beams play? A cabin whah no wires comes a-circulatin' by, hah Mistuh Lecturisiity can t ketch me ef he try! I's nyuhd de white folks tellin' dat he he ps em out a heap; 1 But all de he-p he gibs 'em dey Is welcome foh ter keep. On peaceful, gentle faces I has seen de paleness spread De minute aftuh readin' whut de telegraph done said. I'se seen de people tremblin' like dey done took sudden-sick When de sheen'ry in de corner gun ter cough aroun' an' click. So, I's content to live wif nuffln' but de wild-birds nigh, Whah Mistuh Lecturissity can't ketch me ef he try! * * * A Philosopher. The man who keeps a second-hand book store utterly failed to sympathize with the excitement of the customer who had been looking over his stock. "Did you see that woman?" inquired the customer. -Ves." replied the book-seller, prepar ?*F light his pipe. That well-dressed woman with the large cape?" "Yes?" "The one who glanced hurriedly around, and when She thought no one saw her shoved a book under her cape wuh a?'iked away "But you didn't say anything." "No. I never do." "Do you mean to tell me that you permit terferl' v^f' ?that ' ?iS dut>' not to In td ?s^hjsss acme of them are instructive, and the ma Moral Tnnueice^That^6 why Veh<f SOmte' wifl 'attractheattenUoiiWnj^S ^ ^PurloiTu01! w?ole,dn~kS ,bad'y breathe a ?vii?hE . n 1 ralse a han<l or find something In ?t whlchwufL f.he ?a>' ing point thaf leads h^^oTbeuerli^ * * A Cr?P Failure. f "Uj!Uri3, thU here ^ministration a-doin' urme. Inquired Farmer Corntossel "Tell me that. Whur's ail that thurT^pemy make ?fe I,'" ??me a-saiIln' i" on me an" lnquired his "Prospered! All I've got t , show fur the irzi'TTi'",uck ??" the m -in r sea"8Tass hammock. Spent the money fur repairs long ago " But you surely have no cause to crops."' the m?ney y?U are gettin^ J our ;;i ain't gittin- no money fur no crops." Why. my dear sir, wheat went up-" me nongood " ab?Ut that" But " did"'t do were?a ftlfuk?^" t0 teU me that crops .'.'."Exit's about the size of It " "Nope." "Rain?" "Nope." "Insects?" "Nope." '?VVeM1 iCnu,u haVe,J?een 'he trouble?" none." >0U the truth- 1 dida \ Plant * * * Armament. Used to have some big debates. Settln' 'round the store; Both the men was heavyweights An' had met before. Talked 'bout politicians' games. Wrath too great to smother, Riz,^ an' Jake called Joshua names An" Josh says, "You're another." Useter Jes' git middlin' riled In their tariff talkin'. Silver found their tempera spiled' Left 'em both a-balkin'. ' An', while each the victory claims. Argyments seemed rut her Mixed, when Jake called Joshua An' Josh says, "You're another.' Sometimes bigger men than they. When campaigns is wnrmln". Try to sum it up an' say 'Tuther needs reformin". But. towards fact, though each on. blames. They don't git much fu'ther 'N them, when Jake calls Joshua names An' Josh says, "You're another." * * * Beta* s Bohemia*. Some poet wrote, ?Td rather live In Bohemia Than any other land." Willie Wishing ton read the poem and was much Impressed thereby. A gentle grief arose within him at the thought that he tad been born into a sphere of affluence which might make real Bohemlanlsm im possible to him. Nor did he understand that the word, like "charity," Is used to cover a multitude of sins; that It Is pounced upon tT eveir person who ha. by any means rendered himself ineligible to desirable as sociation and offered a. a pIctm^T Uation for Indifference to every sort of law regulations. There was but one Bohemia to Willie's mind; the Ideal Bohemia, which * after an. UmimI; the ambition strives honestly, and in which hope laughs at failure*. In which Idraii of the imagination if not of substance abound: where comradeship is frank and unsellish. and where faults may be for given because of the greater virtues linked about them. It was this kind of a Bohemia that Wil lie pictured to himself. He resolved to en ter It. If possible, and havtng heard that Bohemians do not usually have much money at a time, he made a practice of having his friend* introduce him to any body they knew who looked especially im pecunious. Having thus secured an exten sive. seedy acquaintance. It was only neces sary to separate the frugal millionaires from the people who lived from hand to mouth. He gathered about him one man who said he was an actor, another who said he was an artist and others who described them selves variously. "Ah, yes." said the alleged actor to whom W illie had broached the subject of Rohemianism. "It is a hard thing to cul tivate. A man must be born a Bohemian, you know. There are very few people fit ted for .*' companionship In which sordid considerations count for naught. Very few have ihe temperament which enables them to get away from the mercantile realities of life, my boy. I have seen several peo ple who tried to be Bohemians. But thejr were always counting the cost. They were constantly thinkng of dollars and cents when their minds ought to have been ou the sublime, don't you know?" "That's the trouble." echoed the alleged artist. "I'm sure I shouldn't do anything like that." exclaimed WllllQ. "Perhaps not. But you can't tell. The ability to regard the possessions of one as the common property of ail without envy or regret, is a gift of nature, the same as any other form of genius." "I really think I have It." said Willie, earnestly. "Well, >ou mUrht try it for awhile. By the way. aren't we a little thirsty?" "Yes," was the response; "but we haven't any money." This was Willie's opportunity and he met it. The opportunity whs repeated several times. Ti'.ey even received him into fellow ship so far as to take dinner at his ex pense. When he had occasion to do a little arithmetic in his cLeck book fiat he Might ltecp his account straight, he went away into a retired cor.ier for f ar they would think he was ccunti: g the cost. The friendship progressed for about two weeks. Once he had gotten a start, ho found noth ing easier than to meet Bohemians. It was surprising lh.;t there should be :*> many in towr. without his havi-g nu t thim be fore. One morning Willie discovered that he was likelv to be embarrassed by the delay of a remittance. That is to say, iie would have been embairassed If he had not l>een a Bohemian. But with confident foot steps and a light heart, he sought the haunts cf ii'.? friends. "All," exclaimed the man of histrionic pretentions, "congratulate me!" "On what?" "I've got a job." "You mean an engagement, don't you?" "Yes?of course." "Are you going on the road?" "Yes." "With what company?' "Payster and Stickum. It's one of the tiggest wall paper concerns in Philadel phia. I lave a stated salary and a per centage on everything I sell over a cert tin amount. They let me have a couple of weeks' pay in advance too." "That reminds me." said Willie. "A de lay occuired in some?er?some matters (his friend had glared in a way that re minded him just ir. time that he was aliout to speak of something so vulgar as money), end I thought I would come around and take dinner with you?Just in an Informal Bohemian way. you know?that Is, if you haxe the time." "Well," was the reply as the sneaker lilted back in Ills chair and put his hands in his pockc-t; "I'll tell you. Bolieinianism is all well enorgh when a man is young and has years of life In-fore him; but a time comes when he must realize that life has an object and that the minutes are precious. I made up my mind just before I came down town this morning that it was time for me to settle down and give up tills wild and reckless way of living." * * * His Heart Fulled Him. "I reckon ye may think it strange," said Meandering Mike, "but I'm in favor of not follerin' this road any furder." "Mike," said Plodding Pete, reproach fully. "I never tuck ye for a quitter." "Dera's some t'irgs as'll spoil de nerve of de bravest." "But If we turn around an" go back we'll pass all dera houses where dey turned us away." "I know it." "We wc-n't stand no better show dls time dan we did de fust. You know dey even lai ghed at us when we asked 'em for work." "I know 1?. It wus a dangerous bluff to make, but it seems like folks is gettln' to expect It." "We'll try Jes de nex' house." "No. sir." replied Mike. "Ye can't drag me past de place, much less make me go in an' have any talk." "Did ye see any marks on de gate port dat scared ye?" "No. I'm almoi* ashamed to tell ye. But a man dat looked an' acted like he owned de place passed us a minute ago an' went in de front gate. I heard a woman call him by hla fust name." "Whut cf It?" "It akeered me off." "Ye don't mean to say ye lost yer courage Jes' from hearln' a man's fust name." "I do. It may look to yer like supcrstl tien. But as soon as I heard it I felt de cold chills run up an' down me back like I was havtn' a presentiment of evil." "What name was It de woman called him?" "Hiram." * Attractive. From the Bocton Trsve'.er. She?"So he married her for her money?" He?"Yes." She (thoughtfully)?"How awfully rich she must bet" la a Wrath. Frew Fllegcade Blatter. m* Let me tell you, Alois, If you assert onoe more to strangers that you ate under petti coat rale, then just loikiaL