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