The new North-west. [volume], February 05, 1886, Image 1

About The new North-west. [volume] (Deer Lodge, Mont.) 1869-1897

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t)cor LJodge, - - Mont ana.
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Deer Lodge, Montana.
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AND
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JOHN H. OWINGS, M. D..,
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HELENA. MONTANA,
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D ENTIST,
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hirst lNationa .Bank New York, I Y.
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Paid up Capital ...... $00.000
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R. W. KNIGHT, A. J. DAVIS.
T. C. POWER. B.M. PARCHBN,
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DBE B 0OD i, XOJfAIA,
Sam. 8cott, Proprletor.
Boar lDay s0 Lss is,
THE FAVORITE SALO.N
PETERSOaN & COitiNIFF. I'it3 .
Main & Secornd, DEER IROTECQ
Thotoughly Over..led,eel a.dDelt.
All DriAns sa.d r a gd ,
Ph. get Mti'.1washee `ig.dIf
ALWAYS PLU1AID TQx 33 f* J3*
.~: ..- ··~4:9..
t~tS v. ` ýý
V.,O2EL ,I F B RUR ` ii886 WHL N8
VOL. 17, NO. 82. DEER LODGE,. BONI.,ANA, FEBRUARY 5, 1886. WHOLEQ NO;865.
_~~ _: __ - ---- - -- - .. . . . ... . . ... ... . . . . . .. _ .... ,...
THE HOUSEHOLD HISTORY.
She had not one whhen she a bride
Stood young and fair at father's side.
For see that photol faded tho'
It is and marked- long ago
The baby fingers feld it, wooing
The pictured face With baby cooing
fl ;w smooth the oitlines must have been
Where dimplos luiked in cheek and chine
::ow we who love her well may trace
The household history on her face.
Those creases on the forehead might
Be eloquent of many a night
And dreary day of heart-wrung tears,
So slowly passed those four dread years,
When martial notes thro' all the land
Rang out, and father, with the rest,
Fought for the caiuse he thought the best,
Came home alive, with glory. Nayl
Not glorious--he wore the gray.
A stray line here d there of toil
May speak of howj a stubborn soil : .
i AlrA4I% l(Ied toled,
I; bI' geerous gye oevery field.
Then sister Bessie went "out west,"
The first young bird to stranger nest;
And mother, smiling, made her sweet
As for her happy troth was meet.
Yet sad lines came, for parting will,
Tho' ne'er so sweet, be sorrow stilL
And those that have a trick of showing
When she is serious, and going
Off in smiles, right well I know
Though she would never have it so
Were thoughtlesa plowed by a wayward
child;
She says: "Why; Will was only wild
Awhile, as any man will be;
Where is a better son than he!"
I make her say it now anon,
For Will-that Will and I are one.
But this about the mouth. Ah, this
Will only melt when angels kiss
For love the piteous seam away
When one among them--little May
With shining eyes and aureole hair,
A lovely thing where all are fair,
Will clasp her close and make forgot
The graveyard gate, the grass-green plot,
The little mound, with sculptured dove
Its wings outspread the mound above.
And so we read our household book
Upon her face where still outlook
Undimned and brown the eyes that shine
As on that bridal morn divine.
-A. M. Dunne.
MAINE'S VANISHING RED MEN.
A Handful Left of the Once Powerful
Tarratines-The State Annuity.
The handful of Indians who represent all
that is left of the once powerful Tarratine
tribe, who were the foes and superiors in war
of the Mohawks, are now loud in their
lanmentations over the death of Sockbesin
Swasson, the governor of the colony on Old
town island, twelve miles above Bangor.
Governor Swasson dropped dead the other
night, and the tribe is left without a head un
til a new election can be had.
These Tarratines are intermixed with the
Frenoh-Canadians to a great extent, and are
pretty well civilized, but for all that they are
rapidly dying out, as are the Passamaqucd
dys, and the day is not far distant when it
will be possible to count Maine's red men on
the fingers. In view of this the Maine His
torical society has taken measures for
the prevention of Indian relics-village
sites, mounds, shell heaps, etc. The
Tarratines, or Penobscots, as they :are
commonly called, live by river driv
ing, a faint attempt at farming, and by
the manufacture of canoes, snowshoes, fancy
baskets, etc. No white man can make a
canoe like the Penobscot Indian; neitlct can
any other Indian fashion the birch so grace
fully. Their snowshoes are so good that re
cently an order for 100 pairs was received
from the far west. The fancy baskets go
everywhere, as do the pretty bows and arrows
and birch bark bric-a-brac-the like of which
is not made anywhere else. The old men and
squaws and the children make these wares and
the sales now aniount to about $12,000 a year.
The state government pays the Tarratines
an annuity of about $8,000 a year, and this,
with the basket money and what the young
men earn river driving and hunting, supports
the 390 survivors of this once powerful trib~.
Their money is expended largely for- pork,
molasses, tobacco, and rum, the latter com
modity being obtained in Bangor, on the
streets of which city may be frequently seen a
rod man "over the bay." There are several
elderly squaws, principal `among whom is one
called "Betsy Francis," who are familiar
sights here, coming down in the morningwith
their burden of baskets and going back at
night drunk. But the Tarratines are a great
deal better people than they once were, and
this is because of the watchful care and
guidance of the Catholic priest and the island
nunsa--Bangor Cor. New York Sun.
"'Making Up" for the Stage.
The next alartment c'L-tains two young,
slender, smooth-faced fellows, who are to per
sonate a fat Dutdh soldier and an obese Irish
policeman. They sit in front of mirrors mnak
ing up their faces. One gas in front of hinr a
cabinet photograph of Ben Butler. He takes
a piece of wax and sticking it on the end of
his nose moulds it with his fingers until it as
smes the proportions of that great candidate.
The bladders under the eyes are made of the
same material and fashioned in the same way.
Then grease paint is applied to the whole face
and with dr-ker Mlors all the lines and
wrinkles on the fao in the portrait are repro
duced onthe ani.ate mask A bald wigis
then donned and the joining seam on the fore
head blended with grease paint. A huge
padded garmemt gives rotundity to the figure
and the boy is transformed into a capital liket
hess of Brutler.
The methods employed -by the other are
quite differenk The eyebrows and the spreag
ing rosy nostrils are made of pink jewellerP'
cotton, bits of which are fastened., ples
with spirit gum sad then pulled and ,pinched
into shape. For the rest, the press.ot paint
ing and lining the face s the same, andthe
.padded garmentof similar construction but
more pointed and less rotund as to the abdo
men.-New York World.
How Steamship Compalies Are Cheated.
Speaking of how ocean steamship com
panies are annually defrauded, an officer of
one ofthem says in an interview: "Every
person who has ever crossed the Atlantic has
noticed several elegantly attired gentlemen,
who at times would wander haughtily among
the steerage passengers, condescend to con
,verse with the intermediate people, and on'a
fne days invaribly promenade the bh.r cane
deck. No one knew who they were; no one
had ever seen them eat anything, and the pas
sengers, one and all, disussed the mystery of
'where those fellers hung out every nightr
Well, these same gentlemen obtain all this
*frdedom and 1- ,ury by simply buying a
steerage ticket boarding during the voy
age in either t_ rp 's or boatswai's
room."-Exch5an
A California dIver Blowa Dry.
During the rece at high windstorm Link
dvdir was blown almost entirely dry, sa
much so that men and boys walkea'l
across the bed of the river picking up
dah by the hundred. As this statement
may be doubted by some exchanges we
will explain by stating that the river has
numerous falls and the win kept the`
water from Sowing from utpper Klamanth
uIke ihlsb t.si sew we ke cold esaothek
up above the Sal ;- orlrals Pam.
• - " ..-t
Labowsebere a, ieb fem.
'Tnbe is no ca in the contry so ~
nw4WiWmsi end so -sews a o rich aim
They .aml s »t:the wased is creisted~
a and that the ase-s ateim ote
~~osi~gI pe to aareblet il atavs
havei and to bta : whit
ll wbat I ls lthe s
:dh7 ahaiii sbE± des ate
:- o·is 1J ~··~
THE AMERICAN OPERA.
ITS AUSPICIOUS OPENING AT THE
ACADEMY IN NEW YORK.
"The Taming of the Shrew ".A Goodly
Company and a Fine Audience.
The Chief Figures in
the Company.
Nxw YORK, Jan. 1S-America has its
own opera at last. The eagle has beens
taught to sing as melodiously as any foreign
bird that ever wore feathers At last, after
years of homage to Italy and Germany, we
are on our own feet in the matter of music,
and can stand without wobbling. We can
produce the emotional lyric dramas with
our own talent and in our own tongue, and
do it welL We can go to the, o ra
without lying. ln -We aee ai
appreciate The simplest of us= can fit the
words to the sound-a tremendous gain;
surely.
The opening of this heretofore intact seal
occurred at the Academy of Music on Mon
day night, the 4th inst. It was an event of
great magnitude and very bad weather.
Nobody minded the rain, however, for the
old academy was filled with the most imn
portant human material the city could
produce.
This new departure is the work of a wo
man, or women-several having assisted in
the great work, Mrs. F. B. Thurber taking
the lead. The project of American opera is
her own. Mrs. William S. Blodgett, Mrs.
August Belmont, Mrs. Richard' Irvin, Mrs.
Thomas W. Ward and others have helped
bring the enterprise to its present status.
Mrs. Thurber's
work in musical
\ circles has been
something extraor
dinary, and until
V recently has not
)) been known to that
presumably all-see
Sing beast, the pub
lic. She has a large
and independent in
come, a great part
of which she de
votes to the prac
..RE tical , encourage
THEODORE THOMAS. ment of musical
projects. In addition to this she generously
gives her time and efforts, frequently, it is
said, taking upon herself the thankless task
of management. It is also said that she fur
nished the capital for several stiusical cam
paign-,'in which Theodore Thomas has been
the chief figure and Charles E. Locke sec
ond.
She employs two secretaries to attend to
the correspondence and other affairs which
are the natural outgrowth of the important
musical affairs in which she is interested.
During the musical seasons she is constantly
importuned by the strugglers in the mu
sical field-singers or' would-be singers,
pianists, violinists, artists of much ehergy
and poor luck-to lend her influence in pro
curing engagements, and sometimes to opet
her purse, for the wolf of hunger roams un
checked in Bohemia. She receives these
callers, one at a time, in a back parlor de
voted to business The front parlor contin
ually overflows with waiting applicants.
It is not generally known that Theodora
Thomas' tour' with the Wagner singers,
Materna, Winkelmann and Scaria origi
nated with her.
,She is the wife of
the well-known
anti-monopolist.
But to the open
ing. As I said be
fore. everybody
was there, every
body who had dia
monds and other
operatic accessor
ies, for what wo
man can appreciate
opera with covered
shoulders, and
what man could en- CHAR
joy it in anything taaager.
but the severest
evening dress? So successful was this open
ing that the applause began with the rising
of the curtain, and ended not until the going
down thereof Theodore Thomas was the
conductor, of course. Who else could have
done it? And he was so well pleased with
the performance that, at its 'close, smiles
chased each other over his face like streaks
of sunshine in cloudland, and this wasn't
his first experience in conducting opera,
either. Look at him in the picture and see
if he isn't as handsome and youthful as ever.
The Sun, of this city, Says what all lovers
of honest, home-brewed music will indorse
in these words:
'In the hundreds of concerts which he his
given, and which have reached from the At
lantic to the Pacific., Thomas has cultivated
in thousands of Americans the love of music
of a high class, and has done much for the
musical education of the people. He has un
dertaken now to provide the talent of Ameri
cast boys and girls with the sunshine of en
couragemenht which it needs to develop in,
and if he carries out the plan it willbe a
prouder work than anythingl that be has
done before. By and by, when we have
Pattis of our own sending their voices up
out of sight, and bassos with double base
meat and cellar voicesa this picture will be
graven in the hearts of proud mothers, and
hung instead of the bless-our-home mottoes
in the happy hon.m of genius all over the
land"
airrwmax aBI. .
Herman Goetz's "Tsming of the Shrew,"
was given. Mudians know it as occupying
for a dozen years a favorite and °dis.in
guished place in the repertoire of German
opera houses; but heretofore It has been un
known to the dwellerson this conteimnt. It
was first produced at Manhelm, in 1874. Its
composer died in 1874, without having en
joyed the fruition of his work. His sym
phony in F has made him known to this
oountry.
"The Tapinyg of the Shrew" is an adapta
tio of Shakespeare's play of the ame name.
Playgoes are farmiliar with It through an
abridgement entltld "Katherln and Nltru
hia." The plot is anantpz ee, foundedm
on medievarl notims of woimanood and
wooing. The goveringt prialphis foenad
hi the.-ed saw, "If you want a dug er a
anes to like yesa eat him -oI her'.
fat slne and! Pfitgac are o.' ta. i 'n a
rich gent lnan of P ntuame baaraIdhptlsf&
Ranhc&-s of the canventional attean aof
well behaved. ohellent and insipid yoag
wanoen, bat KIaL ine hs trya. tacentio
and BHortemel4, two po a ngumnitlemen,
love Blanca, bt he wt r declares that
she shalt not sie yu''aid har elder asster is
rovided with a BlbsiSD the loves a"e
rea tlrtmt oat at tin ataveatrs turat ot
About this time Puiruchie with great
weelth and a ,w' l ata i a tamg na
d Me& omsteb H. Rais*ed. ofbribi* ·
.twisek btgo ardramis eeler thtsd )
- -
®R 4'-~
ana Lueentio ii the successful suitor. Petlt
chio dalares his intention of proposictid
Katherine. Her father gives his co
but the tug of war is in getting Kather0se'I
consent. She is furious at his presumption,
but he refuses to accept his dinmissal, .pd
obstinately declares that he has been do'
cepted, and fixes the wedding day. IE4
keeps her waiting on the bridal morning
arrives late, indifferently clad, marries llt .
and hustles her away before the weddi
festivities have scarcely begun. "'He sube
quently breaks her temper and wins
affection," as one critic expresses it,
extraordinary things to do certainly, -
all things are possible in opera, w
frequently distinguishes itself by getting$
far from nature as fiction can go.
ANNIHILATING A MUSICIAN.
The days preceding the wooing of the fiery
Katherine were exciting ones for her attend
ants. She fairly annihilates a maid who is
dressing her hair, and brings a music teacher
to grief. The picture. "Between B!asts,"
gives an idea of Miss Katherine enjoying a
li 1 between the blasts of temper; another,
entitled "Annihilating a Musician," repre
sents a resultof her displeasure. "The Shrew
Brought to Terms" depicts a scene in the
process of "tamipg."
The ballet was exceptionally fine; largely
American, too. It danced into the hearts of
the people at once to the music of Ruben
stein's "Bal Costume." A large number of the
coryphees, the premieres and the secundas
are from Italy. Twelve are of the Ameri
can school, some of whom are in the first
line, and the thirty-six figurantes are Ameri
can-. It has Leen asserted that American
genius has no leaning toward the ballet.
it has had no endouragement. The princi
p ls. with but few exceptions, in this ballet
are natives.
And as for the chorus, it was an improve
ment on the imported article. It consisted
of fresh voices and fresh faces, and every
member of it was as elegantly attired as the
principal singers. Let us hope that the
ugly, frayed and ragged choristers of sunny
Italy will eventually be banished from the
stage entirely.
THE SHREW BROUGHT TO TRMS.
The principals of the American Opera
wsmpany are the products of a dozen states
dme. L'Allemand, a leading :oprano, was
trn in Syracuse, this state. She wa5
sever heard in this country nutil the open
ng night of the opera, wLen she appeared
ti Katherine. She studied in Paris, Dres
ien and Stuttgart, and has been one of the
)rominent colorature singers of Europe
Miss Helene Hastreiter, also a leading so
lrano, is a native of Louisville. Mr. i heo
fore Thomas is considered an American, if
he did make t .e mistake of not being born
on native soil.
Kate Bensberg, soprano, who played in the
role of Bianca, is a native of St. Louis. and
has been five years ao student in Germany.
Alonzo E. Sted
dard, who sang
Hortensio, is a
baritone from Mas
sachusetts. W. H.
Fessenden, tenor, -
the Lueentio, is
from Buffalo, and
was. graduated at"
Dartmouth college.
Heused tobeinthe
Kellogg concert
company. W. H.
KAT BESIR, Lee (Petruchio) il
Spa. BEWBB a New Yorker, not
vet 2. years old.
yet 21 years old,
and has 1 een before the public as a singer
ten years He i. a baritone. high, and
;hou.do take the chromo for perfect enuncia
tion. Miss Emma Juch is almo.t an Amer
ican. She was born in Vienna on the 4th of
July-not this year, I.ke Galata a-but not a
treat whi.e ago. Annie Montague, soprano,
is a Balt.morean. She ha; been with the
Kellogg company, and with Strakosch in°
Italian opera. Charlotte Walker and Min
nie Dilthea are both Americana
Jessie Bartlett Davis, first contralto, is an
Amer;can. The other contrialtos are Helen
Dudley Can pbe.l, Esther Jacobs, Mathilde
Muel~4nbach and Mathilde Phillips.. Wil.
.liam Cand;dus, leading tenor, is a Philadel
phian, who has fought in the war and sung
abroad. Charles Turner, tenor, isn't an
American, but be has done some powerful
vocalizing on oAmerican soil. Chailes U'
Thompson and Albert I aulet are among the
tenors George Fox, baritor, is Englisa
but he is notto blame for It. He has hal
both operatio and dramatic experience
abroad, and is a composer.
Everybody knows Myron W. Whitney,
great in oratorio, a basso that makes the
earth tremble. He began life in Massea
chusetts. He be
lieves firmly in the
continued succeess
and growth of
American opera. ,
He attained his :
proficiency in ore
torio in London.
He has traveled
with the Thomas
orchestra, sung
with the Boston
Ideal company dand
at all the festf- BxM.l nasra irNa,
vahl east and wehpt "bints Sop5)o.
John. Gilbert (basso), csoeciated with Mr.
Whitney, is a jotdnalist as well as a singer,
al.d -an American. He has been with the
Eamat Abbott English Opera company.
The American Opern company is not
synonymaous with the Amert an School of
Opera, recently started in thiscity, though
Theodoet Thomas is at the head of tote.
The orgtr sations are distinct, but occupy
common .' iind in the. effort to educate
Anerleaemita musical wva t bhe opera co.m
.payr will give oppor.un :les to nupihtlof the
school, as they are prepared for work frop
time to time.
Oib oirhc lts 'The noble motive which
setnheied hitsb bing or this operati
renture. as neell as
Sthe econmse ment+ o
of ar shop .ichis
•oW esy the germs,
::'lo * ahy to
41 11 *4t`
ficient in any quality necessary to the de
velopment of. a very high class of art mani
festations. We are sensitive imaginative,
inventive. ambitious, persevering acute, and
ihere is little reason to doubt that in future
days this country will be the peer of any in
the creation of musical works of lasting
fame. As for executive ability, no nation is
more gifted, either in voice or in general
musical talent, than we. as is constantly
being more clearly shown."
Yes, we are at last beginning to realize
that our blessed mother tongue is good
enough to sing, as iwell as talk and write in,
and that a performance need not lack in ar
tistic effect in consequence of the words be
ing English.
Another critic says: "Foreign prima
donnas have ruled us at the rate of $100,000
a year, and custom has chained us down to,
yelling 'Brava' at things we don't under
here is a strong belief that American
opera will be auecesstfL That in some re
spects it-is superior to the Italian brand goes
without saying. The chorus, particularly,
is a step upward, and a big one.
Again, it has another strong hold on the
good will of the people. It Is a new and
promising Ameri
can industry. It
opens, the way for
hundreds, perhaps
thousands, of eager
hands, as well as /
finished throats, to
exercise themselves
with hope of re
ward. It develops
specialists in many
lines of work. and
suggests possibili
ties of stupendous MYRON W. WHITNEY,
successes in the fu- First Basso.
ture. The costumes are to be prepared. This
requires archaelogical lore and artistic
sense, as well as good, reliable, old-fashioned
industry. The opera of "Lohengrin" alone
requires 900 costumes.
Scenic skill is needed, and numerous aids
not visible to the naked eye will have a field
in which to exercise their talents. All in all,
this new-born child of American enterprise
and talent has the good wishes of its kin
folk, and will doubtless have their substan
tial assistance in the future.
A. J. BOTHWELL
A CITY ON THE WATER.
It Dissolves in Sninmer. But Is Hailt
Anew Every Winter.
It will perhaps be news to our readers to
learn that there is near by a new city, one
which is migratory and comes and goes with
the swallowa This may seem strange and
striking, but it is nevertheless true. In all
this city there is only one trade-one pro
fession, if it may be so called. Strangest of
all to relate, this city forms no integral por
tion of any domain. It is a fleeting but
permanent reality. At ever-recurring sea
sons it dissolves of its own volition and
wanders in sections from state to state,
coming together again at stated periods and
resuming the functions of a well governed
and civilized community, and, incredible as
it may seem, the marvelous city is within a
stone's throw of New York. It is bounded
by Brooklyn on the east, by Manhattan
Island on the west, and its foundations are
continuously washed by the waters of the
East river. Indeed, it is upon the water,
anid its precise location is in the Erie basin,
and its title is Canalboat City. Every
winter, when old King Boreas pays his
chilling visits to s, the novel city forms.
All the canalboats which ply upon the Hud
son and the intermediate waters during the
spring and summer lie up for the winter in
the Erie basin.
Not less than 1,200 canal boats compose
this community, and on these wooden hills
4,000 people live throughout the season. All
the necessaries of life they have among
themselves. The massive hulks are trans
formed into business marta Gr(ocers' ships
and liquor saloons, and even barbers' shops
rise up where cojl and ltmber find a home
during the season of transportation. The
people live wholly among themselves. They
are transformed for the time being into a
business community. The cabin of one boat
is brought into use as a billiard and pool
room, while in another a tailor's shop pre
vails. Then in the hold of another there is
a miniature coal and wool yard, while sev
eral of the boats bear signs that washing
and ironing are done. A pretentious cigar
and tobacco shop is a feature of this city
also, and brings in a handsome revenue to
its owner.
By the means enumerated, the inhabit
ants of this community are enabled to reap
a considerable incoma Many of the able
bodied men work along the shore when the
weather permits. Net a single case of out
lawry, assault or larceny has ever occurred.
Whatever little disputes happen are settlel
among themselves. It might readily be
thought that drunkennees would previrail, but
this is not the case. The men, as a class,
are sober and industrious Their wives and
families live with them through all seasons
of the year, and know naught of the pleas
ures or wickednes of city lif'. In t e sp:-ing,
summeroand autumnm mnthl; the mnu earn a
comfortable living pursein; their ocupa-.
tion as boatmen. The busina.ss is, all things
considered, lucrative. They have no rent
to pay. It coste little for clothing for them
selves and families, and they are accord
ingly enabled to save much money. Some
of tse boatmen ply a lucrative business by
letting out small boats during the winter
months to fishing parties--Nev York Mail
and Expreg.
A Marked Expression of Gratitude.
While the Philadelphia cricket team
was in London, F. E. Brewster and D. P.
Stoever distinguished themselves by
courageously stopping a runaway horse
on Regent street: The carriage, contain
ing two ladies, had been run into by a
stupid hansom, the collision throwing
the coachman from his seat and starting
the.horse along the crowed thoroughfare
at a hot gallop. Brewster was consider
ably mussed up by his heroic 6fforts, but,
lifting his hat to the fair occupants he .
had resened, he spked if they had been
injured, "Not at all, thank you," was
the chirpy response. "Can we do any
thing further for yo?." inquired Stoeyer.
"Yes! Won'tyou please run beck and get
the numbei of that hansom?" said the
prettierof the two young women. "I'll
teach him how to drive a horne," she con
tinned, shaking her'hand in the direction
of their late perilous dash. The two
Americans hurriedly brushed their sailed
clothes and started toward their hotel,
deeply impressed ifth suok a marked
expression of gratitude.-Philadelphia
Press.
What 1 ehplhia leetrician Claims.
A prominent electrician of Philadelphia
as received letters ptent for an invention
whieh says will revolutionize the mail,
. '.adtelephomic systems now ti
ua ja liels termed an ele.tio-pms -
atie treasts, and is deigned to earry let.
tarandpaskgssfrom city to city at a
rate of nine mes a minute. The tbe will
be of itam,; ineseid n froan, through whick
a daiso tting mstlie carriages-eo tafing
thsetiails will be proiestedby volueasof
compresed asir. Intermediate cities a. l
to;ki wll have tubes cmmncting with tihe,
malntete, ai4t his dmadnri a tioa the nar
riage will be i der ib cdst e . the esr
etar at tes diek is, who awituaniplate
the yitcbhes byul* etrlcty; w. thus be es,
IB er .Ia 0ewepm u eSa. -y.
"Ds }idres," -smid thsneatuebe, 'to.
iiiEgbit i r sps .*.haut snpoa e+ ar
ba& ·Wdn
'ý a -t ae'! I` Vi s.i
~OIY~;JI~~7 7r8~
Y F'~c'·f3f~~
THE UND}RAPED MODEL
WHAT CHICAGO ARTISTS HAVE TO
SAY OF THE NUDE IN ART..
The English Controversy-A Hindrsce"
to Amateurs-Families of Models is
Europe-All Sorts of Specialties
-A Sculptor's Opinion.
Social circles in England have been greatly
disturbed of late over a resurrection of that
ancient sensation regarding the immoral
characters of artists' models and the per
nicious influence which they are supposed to
exercise upon society in general and upon
art students in particular. Probably more
irrelevant matter has beien written upon this
subject by petsois wholly incompetent to
touch it than upon any other topic in the
whole gamut of questions and debatable
points included under the terms of literature
and art.
In a general conversation on this subject
Mr. L C. Earle, of Chicago, said that the
drawing of the female figure by amateurs
was rather detrimental than otherwise to
their progress, because there was so spuch
more to draw from in the male figure.
"I have known many models," continued
Mr. Earle, "of good character who thought
nothing of sitting, but I have frequently
seen women of bad character who would re
fuse to sit. As a rule, the life classin Munich
meets every night, and there are from 100 to
150 students drawing from the same model
When the pose is particularly good the boys
are filled with enthusiasm. They forget all
about it being a nude figure, and they don't
think any more of it than if they would if
they were looking at a wooden Indian on the
street.
AT HOME AND ABROAD.
"Here in Chicago so few artists paint the
figure that it is almost impossible to procure
a model. In Paris and all over Europe
there are families of models who take great
pains to keep their figures in good shape by
bathing and exercise. As a rule the Euro
pean models are noted for excellence in
some particular feature-head, arm, or bnst
-but a model who has a satisfactory figure
throughout is a very rare thing.
"In the costumed life class in Rome, where
there there are over 300 students who paint
in water colors, they have models who can
pose for two consecutive hours without a rest.
Of course the longer they can pose the better
models they are. So long a pose isn't neces
sarp for a nude study, but in painting drap
ery, or a satin dress for instance, it is ex
ceedingly advantageous. The muscles of
these models who are capable of such pro
longed poses frequently become so set that
they are unable to step from the platform
for some minutes after a pose.
"The models in the old country have all
sorts of specialties. Some of them are called
"christs," because of the shape of their
heads. I remember a man who started pos
ing as a boy and at last when he was 80'
years old and had lost his hair and had be
come puffed with wine he was used as a
model for a monk, and he made a capital
one, too. The poor classes of Italy can earn
more by sitting as models than by doing any
other class of work."
Mr. H. F. Spread thought that the ques
tion of painting from the nude depended
somewhat on the career that the, artist had
marked out for himself. If he intended to
follow landscape painting a study of the
nude was not. necessarily indispensable, but
if he purposed to become an artist in the
figure line he could never becomera thor
ougly good painter without studying from
the nude model.
THE PERFECTION OF ART.
"My reason for thinking so," said Mr.
Spread, "is that the perfection of art is the
suggestiveness with which the artist inter
prets nature, and you can't treat a thing in
a suggestive way unless you are perfectly
acquainted with all the details of the object
th't yop want to treat. I do not know of
anything in which this holds good so well as
in the figure. We all know how the move
ment of the half an inch one way or another
will give expression to a different thought.
In the same way it is necessary for an artist
to know the possibilities of any movement of
the figure in order to enable him. to see
whether any giveh pose is really a possible
one or not. For fhat reason artists are
obliged to suggest, even in a draped figure,
more oftentimes of the real form than the
drapery over it will admit of their seeing,
knowing that the subtlest change in that
pose will give a different impression of the
mental action of the figure.
"So far as the moral phase of the question
s concerned, I have worked froni boyhood
in Europe in various nude life classes, and I
have never discovered any tendency to im
morality of any kind."
SMr. Howard Kretechmar, the sculptor,
said that it was impossible to study art
without nature as it would be to study sur
gery without anatomy. There was more
drawing in the male figure, it was grander
and stronger than the female figure, and it
was considered by artists as a better study.
No sculptor, however, would be fitted to pre
lent a Venus or a female figure in the
nude without a study of it any more
than he would be able to draw
the male figure from a study of a
female model. We dan't giraw a form
that we don't understand Everything de
pends upon the way in which the artist
treats his subjects.. I have seen studies- in
the academy that were almost revolting and
others that were beautiful--the difference
was simnlply a difference of treatment.-Chi
ocago News.
Using an Adaptable Old Story.
There is no more useful article in this
world than an adaptable old story. Lowell
says that the first point that the good after
dinner speaker sees to is his anecdote. First
catch your story and Fee that it is a suitable
one There are oa number of New York
conespondents who make a living out of
the adaptable story. Whenever a noted
man dies these enterprising fellows adapt
the stories in stock to him and the adapted
yarns go the rounds.
I saw a while ago that Josh Billings once
agreed with a party not to laugh at any bf
° the jokes a rival-wit got off on a certain
evening. The rival wit felt very bd.
Then I saw one time that John McCul
lough was in Washington and went to a din
ner where Barney Williams was to be aml
they agreed to laugh at nothing Barney
said, and they didn't, much to Barney's di.s
comfork Then it seems that Vanderbilt
wet not as devoid of humor as many sup
posed. Once he dined with Jim Scott and
they made up that they would never laugh
at one of Sco's stories, and Jim felt so mad
that he went out and told his best stories to
a board tence, and thus the round goa.
Pro Tem. Preeldents of the lesate.
As an iadicxtlen of how often it has hap
pined that at an important time, elther ow
i nlg ttol death of a p ent or vice presi
dent,a presidentpro tampor hasaa presided
over the a te, it may he mn4rimed that
in forty yemra-that is, since the ebewtral
votres wre cm ted for Polk and Danls in
Fey,, 180.-ai~ setaa vicep resi" h.
presidediduri u thu lu~ of tbe voses
finr ps-idena and vice prondent in the pres
ece of the two hoe : of onugre but four
times-ain 188, whep-Joem C( BrwieekiJadge
was vim' mraddeat; l Iia, whin Heanibal
°Hawlln held that _ofce; in 1873, when
S&hnylss Ciatax hld' It. and i 1881, whep
Will A Wbahe2 held It In 1840,1853,
185g, 18e, 1tl7 aid t11 a presidant pro
tempera of the asnt opened the certiscates
of the ,dItes, eQ, s d Anow seesmsLasvit
bibl t mstlusmewil be th. can in i888
The; A ithyE lptlta of Trseatse
Tb Eqaeih . tOautoe i
No wse a1 aps etele1
-Sh aiam
- -t j d u erM "
NOTHING LIKE LEATHER.
WHAT A REPORTER SAW IN A SHOE
SHOP IN LYNN.
The Process of Making Shoes from the
Haw 2-aterial-Machinery Called
in to Aid Labor--Triumph
of Human Skill.
Having given a general outlin, of thema
terial used and whore it is olt .ined the
proprietor invited the reporter to aecompany
him to the basement,, where the several
dozen men were turning big yellow sheets
of leather into leather soles for ladies' shoes.
One man cut the leather up into strips as
wide as theshoes iLsto be long, end these
strips were taken by another man and run
into a machine that rose and fell in response
to the w~orkman's will, and each blow cut
out a perfect sole. The knife that did this
was sharp, and worked up and down like a
doughnut cutter in the hands of a pastry
cook.
The soles were passed from here to the
"dinker," whose duty it is to place them in
a metal mould, shaped and curved with
shoe-like symmetry, and press them. When
they come out the instep is arched, and the
edges of the sole turned up the way they ap
pear in the shoes offered for sale.
Fromthe dinking machine the now well
formed sole goes to the bench where it is
"channelled," a process which consists in
turning up a slice of leather on the bottom
and near the edges of the sole, so the stitches
that hold it to the "uppers" will not be ex
posed to the wear of walking. The sewing
is done along these channels, and after that
the leather that has been raised up is turned
back and cemented, covering up every trace
of stitching.
PUTTING ON A "VEKEER" SOLE.
At other benches were men with big
metal mallets and steel dies, cutting out the
heels by hand. The heel of a lady's shoe is
small, and can be cut from sole leather
shreds that can not be used for any other'
purllose. Most all the heels are worked up
out of this kind of leather, and though the
cutting could be done easily by machinery,
it is found to be cheaper to do it by hand.
"You see that sole, do you?" aked a
wort min, holding up one all ready to be
attached to the uppers. "Well, that is
what we call 'veneer' sole, because it is
not what it seems to be It is all leather
every bit of it-and the outside or bottom
is good stock cut out of a side, but the top,
or part that comes next to the foot, is
veneer. See, there is where it is joined to
the leather."
The reporter looked and saw a faint streak
or line of junction, looking like a piece of
ham between two slices of bread in a res
taurant sandwich. The under part was
genuinb leather, all of a color and all of a
texture; the upper was slightly darker and
had a marbled appearance, suggestive of
Castile soap or Roxbury pudding stone
The uppers are cut by hand. This is to
ensure having good stock, free from flaws
and' imperfections. If they were cut by
machinery many pieces of leather having
holes and rough places would bhe used. Now
the skilled workmen can cut around these
imperfections by hand and economise a
great deal of stock that would otherwise be
wasted. They stand at benches knife in
hand and cut out the different parts by zinc
patterns placed on the leather.
Froic the cutters the soft dark uppers are
-taken to the sewing-room, where lqng rows
of girls sit by their huzpming machines,
sewing up seams, binding, lining, working
buttonholes and performing all the work
necessary to complete the uppers. Every
girl has a part assigned to her, and whea
she has performed her part the piece is
passed to another and another until it is done.
The limp flat strips of leather are brought
in at one end of the sewing-rooms, and
when they go out at othe other they are all
sewed, stitched and lined, the holes are
worked, the buttons are put on and the up
pers are ready to be soled.
WITH A MOUTH FULL OP TACKS.
Fifteen or twenty young men stood in a
long,, well-lighted room beside benches,
busily engaged over shoes in the process of
completion. In front of each one was en
upright shaft of iron aboat. eighteen inches
high.' On top of this was a horizontal at
tachment hung on hinges, so as to be turned
up or down and held An place by springs
working in slots that could be adjusted to
place the top piece at any angle required.
On these horizontal pieces wooden lasts were
placed and the uppers hauled on over the
lasts. Then, with a pair of steel pincers,
having curved, flat points, the "uppers"
were hauled tightly over the lasts, making a
smooth and "perfect fit" This done, the
workman took a tin can. containing small
tacks and emptied a portion of its contents
into his mouth. Having filled his mouth
with tacks, the workman proceeded to take
them ott one' by one and drive them into
the leather, holding it firmly in place.
The sewing on of the soles is a very simple
process. The shoe is placed 'sole up in a big
machine, a stout man puts ils foot on a
brake and turns his shoe and the stout
needlegoes clattering through the thick
leather as easily as a lady can hem a cam
bric handkerchief. When heotakes the shoe
out the black "bights" of the thread can be
seen gleaming down in the channels made
by that man in the basement, and following
on the dizzy edge of the delicately-curved
ole as it it dared not goinanyother
place. When the sewing machine has done
with the shoes they are passed over to a man,
who inoistens the ehanels with cement and
then pises the doles .through a machine
that turns the raised furrows 61 leather
down into the channel and prese It upon
the uemnent soid.
GIVING 16» WNISHJ5E O TO0UC
When the shoe is made up to this point
the trimming of the sole comes in, a job
Which is done by a machine operated by a
man. The sarp knife follows along within
a third of an inch of the rwing, never get.
ting nearer and never going further. When
done the whole line as smooth and regular.
The putting on of the ,heels is done by
hand. A majority of the heels are made of
the leather "shoddy:" with only one layer
of the genuine leather on the outsidq.
When the heels Are in i~ an nailed
they are pared by machinery. After this a
liquid black-dye is rubbed over the yellow
edges. As soon as this is dbe the edges are
polished by a machine that holds them up
against revolving discs of cast ron, that
are ept heated to a certain degree by gas
jets burning inside.a 4 boot heel that has
been polished in this manner will stand a
great deal of welting and rough usage be
tfee losing its lustre.a 8adpapering the
soles so they will be smodh is another beau
tfying proceass that i. applied Thils done
by a revolving face do emery, that can be
tuined so as to fit all partef the surfacn
One of th last "touhes" s painting the
diverging uprays on inuers of black or
broes that are on the soles, beginning near
the heel and diverging .en. ltha reach the
bafllofte too This isputn by a brah
in the heads of , sh~itr pla er, wiso ,mnkes
th. ase Lmnes with his bash as seily and
r3enly as seashees;eawhitaia pine sr-v
in. The last thisg bIes going dowan
atunesIs tit sl whidi is dead by ab
A Thanksgiving Daller all.Med..
IaStope Beaceal
Much bilarty was occasioned at a Thanks
giving dinner party by the cook serving the
turkey with paper ruiei around its legs
and another of be proportions
roand the long neck, on which she had
fastened an improvised head, composed of
vegetables There was arlso A "button-hole"
bouquet of parsiy se a` rtlend "catva ed'
in beta The galn snltsmmas's enetb
was drunk in eom "eantre dry," of which
the cook dly .rpvked tar earm in the
kitchens
.kilwt Passage .f the CanaL
I, ert', =trp. bgse bees piraitted to.
to~s Athriaisk; ýQ ý tiisd nss)ý
TERMS-INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
One .eur.......................... ........ $4 .
I4t Month.'.... ................. ... ....... ('4*
Thre Months ........................... . ....I Lvu
Whennot psid in advance therale will be Fi e
Loi.tas per year.
NEWiF PI PER DECISIONIb.
1. Any one who takes a paper reunlarly I e tn, t h
L'oetadce-whether directed to his name or another's
or whetherhe has subscribed or notr-is responsible
for tie pavmmt.
. It a personorders his paper discontinued, be
most pay allafrearares, or the pablislier will con
tinue to send it until payment Is made and collect the
whole amount, whether thepaper is taken from th
office ornot.
3. Thecourtahavedecided that relusint to take
thenewspapersor perodicals from the?otoffce, ox
,Wpm.viead oting them uncalled for, is prima
fact evidence of intentionslfraud.
Pape!odered to any address can be' cangcd to
another eddressat the option of the subscriber.
Remittances by drtft, check, money order, or reels.
ter.-d letter, may tesentL t our rifB. All PoetmaEterf
are required toreiester )ttuerson.applration,
ABE AND THE SHERIFF.
The Diplomacy Neeesaary to Serving a
Warranot oa Lost Mountain.
On one occasion, shortly after the war,
Abe had gone to the little county town on
buriness, and had been vexed into laying
rough hands on one of the prominent citizens
who was a trifle under the influence of
liquor. A warrant was issued, and Dave
McLendon, the sheriff of the town, a stumpy
little man, whose boldness and prudence
made him the terror of criminals, was sent
to serve it Abe, who was on the lookout
for some such visitation, saw him coming
and prepared himself. He stood in the
doorway, with his rifle flung carelessly
across his left arm.
"Hold on thar, Dave!" he cried, as the
latter came up. The sheriff, knowing his
man, halted.
."I hate to fling away my manners,
Dave." he went on, "but folks is gittin' to
be. mighty funny these days A man's
obleeged to s'arch his best frien's 'fore he
kin find out the'r which-aways Dave;
what sort of a dockyment is you got
eg'in' met"
"I got a warrant, Abe," said the sheriff
pleasantly.
"Well, Dave, hit won't fetch me," said
Abe.
"Oh! yes," said the sheriff. "Yes it will,
Abe. o I bin a-usin' these kind or warrants
a mighty long time, an' they fetches a feller
every whack."
"Now, I'll tell you what, Dave, "said
Abe, patting his rifle; "I got a dockyment
here that'll fetch you a blame sight quicker'n
your dockyment'll fetch me; an' I tell you
right now, plain an' flat, I hain't a gwine
to be drug aroun' an' slapped in jail."
The sheriff leaned carelessly against the
rail fence in the attitude of a man who is
willing to argue an interesting question.
"Well, I tell you how I feel about it,
Abe," said the sheriff, speaking very slowly.
"You kin shoot me, but you can't shoot the
law. Bang away at me, an' ther's another
warrant after you. This yer one what I'm
already got don't amount to shucks, so you
better fling on your coat, saddle your horse,
an' go right along wi' me thee ez neighborly
ez you please."
"Dave," said Abe, "if you come in at that
gate you or a goner."
"Well, Abe," the sheriff replied, "I 'lowed
you'd kick. I know what human natur' on
these hills is, an' so I thes axed some or the
boys to come along. They er right down
thar in the holler. They hain't got no mo'
idea what I come fern'n the man in the
moon. yit they'd make a mighty peart
posse. Tooby shore, a great big -nan like
you ain't afeared ter face a little bit er
law."
Abe Hightower hesitat-2d a moment and
then went into the house. In a few minutes
he issued forth and wont out to the gat3
where the sheriff was. The faces of the two
men were a study. Neither betrayed any
emotion nor alluded to the warrant. The
sheriff asked after the "crap," and Abe told
him it was "middlin' peart," and asked him
to go into the house and make himself at
home until the horse could be saddled. After
a whils the two rode away. Once during
the ride Abe said:
"I'm mighty glad it wa'n't that feller
what run ag'n you last fall, Dave."
"Why?" asked the sheriff.
"Bekase I'd.a plugged him, certain an'
shore,'J said Abe.
"Well," raid the sheriff, laughing, "I
wuz a-wielhin' mighty hard thees about tt&st
time tiemt. the t'other feller had got 'lected."
--J, t4 L .aadler Harris in The Century.
THE FARMER TELLS HIS WIFE
About His Experiene. in Trying to Mnap
It on a Sleeping-Car.
"Yes, I slept well enough when the
cars were moving, but we got into the
depot from St. Paul at 3 a. m. and when
the car stopped I woke up. I 'wanted to
sleep till morning, as the car stopped
there, and so I rolled over to go to sleep.
It was just as quiet as death around the
depot, until a switch engine, began to
monkey around switching cars. Did you
ever try to sleep when an old cow with a
bell on was browsing around in the,
street, or in a garden? Then you know.
hbw it is. That switch engine would be
'heard away up In the yard half a mile
away, ringing her bell like a cownibbling
a. cabbage, then she would work up
nearer, and I could hear her 'chew
chew,' and snort as though she had
swallowed a turnip and got choked.
Then she would hitch on to a car or two,
and move away.
"I would get a little nearer asleep,
when she would come back slowly, then
stop and blow her whistle, as a cow would
bellow, and I couldn't get it out of my
mind that it was a cow. I found myself
dreaming about going down into the pas
ure barefooted, to dfive up a drove of
locomotives to be milked. I had them
surrounded, and their cow-catchers all
pointed toward the cow-yard on the old
farm, and they would stick their heads
out side'ways to nibble grass, and I would
'yell at them, ant one old ugly locomotive
with one horn would turn and run into a
-ibrindle locomotive and she would run
away off in the woods, and I would have
to go after her. When I had got her back
'into the road, all the rest of the locomo
tives were acting up, one pawing the
ground and. bellowing, another running
her horn into the ground and throwing
dirt over her back, while others were
rearing up and hooking, and acting just
like a lot of cattle.
"The only one that had sense was the
old 'bell locomotive,' and she started right
along towards the house as soon as I
came out of the woods, and the rest re
luctantly followed. It was hard work to
get the whole drove of locomotives
through the gate of the old barnyard, in
my sleep, because some would block the
way of others, but finally the hired man
began to set out pails of slops and bran
mash, and the locomotive with the bell
on ran its cow-catcher clear down, into
the bran mash, and then the hired girls
came out with milk pails and stools and
told the locomotives to 'hoist,' and then
they sat down right by the tender and
pretty soon I heard the milk from the
locomotives streaming into the tin pails,
and the girls said 'so, boss,' and I went
to sleep. Say, pass them pancakes."
Peck's bun.
Boyhood of Wagner, the Composer.
Geyer, Wagner's stepfather, wanted to
make young Wagner a painter; but the
'boy was very awkward at drawing. He
sayi: "I had learned to playj'Ueb immer
Treu and Redlichkeit' and the 'Jungfern
'krans' (Freisehuts), which' was then
quite new. The day before his death
(Sept. 80, 181) I had to play these to
iGeyer In an adjoining room, and I heard
him faintly saying to my mother, 'Do
you think he might have a gift for
music?"' " A the age of 14 Wagner
secretly begap to write a grand tragedy.
it was made up of "Hamlet" and "Lear",
forty-two men died, sad some of them
had to return as ghosts to keep the fifth
tact going.-New York Sun.
The Oratitade of Eaglbk Operative.
In St. Giles' house, the ancestral home
of the earl of Shaftesbury, there isa
monument to which thelate ownercould
hardly poait withoiiut emotion. This is a
large bust of the earl, "Presented to
-Emlly, wife of the seranth earl of
Shaiflpbtiyri, by the operatives of the
n Qannactaunag districts of the aorh of
kag1atg, hasa token of their estgm and
regard for the presetinga and sueseestful
f*ortd eLter nouiLeb U diuad pmmnting
iby legi tive es.et' a lIitaton of
the houn aot selýor of cden, females
'and yoios e odsein iied; min; sand
s.... ass-ememedat ion
IF-pka' An