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By W. HEIMBURG. \ ('rintlnued. "Why should s-? 1 have not told her nil my private a hairs 1 refm ned purposely, tor then I could not have avoided introducing her to Antje, and 1 do not wish to do that; you know very well why." "Why, la-. 0, you are the most uncon scionable fellow in the world! lias it never occurred to you that in your dally Intercourse with a child ‘ like that, who has just only put her head out of the home-neat, a ” “Well, what?” cried Jussnitz, “That she might conceive an un lucky attachment for you, for one thing?” "But the announcement of my mar rlage would not guard her against that." “I would not he sure of that, my friend,” returned Malborg. "Well, then, let her inquire me tip before she bestows her heart on ntc,” replied .Jussnltz, peevishly, turning his back on his friend, and bending down to the Baroness, who held out her hand authoritatively, saying: "Will you wager with me that to* morow I can tell you exactly how large your picture Is that, you are painting now, the pose of your Span ish girl, and the color of her lace trimmed, skirt? Will you bet, Herr Jussnltz?’’ "1 could not possibly make a bet whi< h i am perfectly certain you will lose.'’ “I shall not lose." “V’ery well, then. At what hour to morrow, shall I hear th's. Baroness?" “Fix the hour yourself." "At six, then,” he said, with a smile. "Done! Your hand upon it.” “What Is the prize*?” Inquired Bar ronberg. coming up to them. "Oh, some nice little present.” re plied the Baroness, with a Hmile. "What do you say. Jussnltz, to a copy of the picture? Yes, we will make it that.” And then the little white figure dis appeared amid the throng of guests Someone in the next room began to play a Strauss waltz nnd the next moment Nelly Ben ken danced past with Lieutenant Oaten, and the others joined In with all the ardor of youth. An hour might have passed when the music broke off suddenly In the midst of a waltz. Antje, who had sat down beside the loquacious old colonel's wife, who was relating the sad story of the death of three husbands, paid no heed to her neighbor's words, which simply soundest In her cars like the murmur of a fountain. Suddenly the lady in green velvet atopned speaking, and the hurried, agitated tone of the Baroness came to them from the next room. “Bray, my friends, all come In here; the young people are going to give us some tableaux vlvants —only a few, and they w'Hl be given quickly before supper.” The old lady put her arm into Aatjo’s. "Come, Frau Jussnitz. let us go to gether, or—are yon going to appear too? Then of course ” “No. said Antje, walking on beside hor. In the next room they had closed the wide foldlnK-door which opened into a third room. The y ung Rirlf, and some of the gentlemen wore in there, and sounds of laughing and gig gling were heard occasionally. A serv ant was placing chairs opposite the door for tin' spectators among whom were Malberg and Jussnitx. In the front row sat Ant.'e between the colonel's wife and the young and ele gant widow of Barrenberg’a hunting friend, who declared quite frankly .that these improvised tableaux and charades, so fav as her experience sent, were generally very poor. “Iton't you think so. too?" she asked Antje. "I have seen very few.” Antje re plied. 'I envy you." sighed the beautiful widow. "Mere in society we are ah solutely Hooded with them." The folding doors opened and dis played iirst a Christmas seene. in which Molly aga'n played her pail a;< angel. Then came a l.orelei, who sat on fho aim of a sofa whence she looked d<>wu at Lieutenant listen, who was! rowing about iu a great old Ueimani cheat. Nelly UenUln s golden hali 1 was charmingly effortive and pro cured for the picture a loud Biaxo’ "Spanish lisneer, after JusHiiit*:" j now announced the little llaron s Jussnitx shrugged u shoulders with u smile and looked at Mail.org “It Is too—" But what he v * going! to say can never lie known r-.- there' stood—— A universal murmur of adm istion passed through the roe in then a pause of cdrairlng attention Only Anils turned her eyes from the girl ish figure and looked across at her husband IJe had his head bent for r avd and was gating at tie lovely face with a look of surprise and de light .... Hildas slim figure was thrown up Ijr a background of dark-leavrd plants. She stood on a slight eleva tion, in the ame pose as in the pict ure, her left hand in the folds of bar pale yellow gown, the la., in her right. The upper part of her figure was half bent backwards, and she displayed to fhe spectator her beautiful face, with the dark, veiled, seductive eyes. The little white teeth gleamed out b> tween the rosy, smiling lips. 3h stood quite motionless; only her ear rings shook lightly and showed with how much difficulty she kept herself quiet. Slowly the folding-doors dosed, and then there came a hurst of applause. For the moment compliments were showered on the Baroness, who was besieged with questions; but she i seemed to have no time to listen to them. She rushed up to Jussnitz. “Help me to persuade Frauleln von Sweldorf to stay to supper; she says she will not!” He followed her mechanically. "Baroness,” he said, “why do you do this?” Shi: thrust lil in, without speaking Into the room where Hilda had sun!’ exhausted into a chair, “Thank you. It will bo better for me to go,’* she replied curtly to the r<<- newed persuasions of the Baroness. “My aunt will be expecting me-; please let me go.” “You are right, Frauleln von Zwei dorf,” said Jussnltz, coming,up to her "I will escort you home. How in the world did you happen to come here to —play this role in a circle where yon know no one?” The young girl looked at him de fiantly and was silent. "Don’t spoil sport, Jussnltz,” ex claimed Barrenberg. “I must say It is a queer sort of thing for you to carry Frauleln von Zweidorf off now.” And taking her aside, he added - “Don’t you understand that my cousin will be suspected of smuggling into the house a beauty who Is not present able, and that would lie very un pleasant for mo for the sake of my guestr?" Ard then he turned to Hilda with an air of decision, offere r her his arm, and said: “Allow me io present you to rny guests." During the scene Antje had been standing In the midst of a circle of curious spectators. "Pray, Frau Jussnltz, why did you not introduce us to this new star?" in quired Lieutenant von Osten. “Is she a relative of yours?" in quired the actress. “Good Heavens, what surprises the Baioness docs get up! Were you in the plot, Fiau Jussnltz?" cried an other. “Oh. it aas only a joke such as ou* good Baroness loves,” said the beauti ful widow, shrugging her shoulders. "Who caras how she brought It about? Perhaps it ,s her dressmaker, or soni - thing of that sort.” The i, 'nerwl r four daughters nodded at each other significantly, as if ,o confirm what had just been said. But Melty Be ikon said quite frankly that probably papa would not like It very well If be km w* Nelly had been help ing Cousin Erlach to carry out a practical joke. "Papa was so opposed to our com tng. she com luded. "and now w shall eat-n ft! I hope uncle will take the Spanish girl back where Irene got her from as fast as possible." Antje was perfectly silent. From her silence peorh naturally conclude I that she, toe thought there was soni thing wrong. Then the Circle op< ned, and Hilda von Zwcidorf n| peered on Barren berg s arm. pale, agitated, holding hex head rigidly erect: and her costun.e at this moment had a coquettish, theatrical air. Antje held her fan tightly clasp yd in b.th hands, and again the eyes -if these two mot, as they had done thi - morning, in a long, scan hlng look, he ' then 1 -eo whispered In his wife’s ear "l entreat you to befriend this young girl!" ’ Do net do it! Do not do it!" a voice eien! within her. "Turn your back on her, and she will be harmless for all time!" For • -ie moment. one short momeut slu* stoud fat I tig Hilda, with her heat! thrown proudly back: she could set tilt- peculiar glances which the gnes.s tat itt the young girl, saw hw Osteu Hxi I his monocle Impertinently in lus < ye. ami -how the colonel's wife put un her lorgnette - -out! the next moment Vitje went forward a few steps to me t Hilda and grasi and her hand. I am delighted to see you again this tv-mlnx. my dear Frauleln von Zwcidorf. You have given us all. and especially my husband and myself, a ! charming Mtt-prise—hasp’* ghe, Leo?" She tin rvd to her husband as she j blushing at her falsehotsi. He declared that ho agreed with h *r j entirely and announced that he had jUmwn Frauleln von Zwcidorf ever ; since she was so high—measuring | with his hand about hair a yard from j the floor. ‘. T,u ' I ' v< > la-lb * "ere mb? Mantlnc hand in hand, but Hilda’s ryes had j dropped before the young wife’s glance At length the servant who aa* j nouncod supper created a diversion. Jussnitz and Osten presented them selvfs to Hilda at the same moment, each offering an arm, Jussnitz with an air of nervousness, Osten with tbit ■ agor chivalry which prompts kind hearted men to expiate a wrong, even though only ir. thought. Hilda did not lift her eyes; she mad a step backwards and caught blindly at an arm that hail not been off.-re 1. Maiberg looked down in surprise at the little hand which tou hed his arm. Then he smiled, placed It carefully n his black coat sleeve, and walked be side its owner, who moved timidly on toward the diuing-rcc-m. Osten fol lowed close behind, in order to g*t .. place near her at least. Jussnitz sat next to the Baroness; ' she looked at him slyly out of her dark eyes. “You have don',- Frauleln von Zwoi dorf no kindness. ’ he said shortly, “Bab!” she replied, loudly, turning from him and looking at Antje. “A man must not keep everything for himself, my dear Jussnh.-'. Tell nuv Frau Jussnitz, w here did your hus band keep Frauleln von Zweidorf hidden away? Have you secret cham bers at Slbyilenburg?” “You ought to know yourself, my deafr Baroness,” replied Antje, “as you brought the young lady here.” The Baroness laughed until the tears came into her eyes. “Ask her to tell you where I dis covered her." Antje made no reply. She talked to her next neighbor, but she felt as if the room w ere whirling round with her, so that she did not know what she said or did. Only one thing was clear to her—that she must on no ac count iet that woman see what was going on in her mind. The supper seemed endless, and gay and mirthful as the whole com pan • was, neither Antje nor Hilda could join in the. merriment. Hilda was suffering ns much as Antje. Good Heavens, what a whirlwind she had brought about her ears! At last, at last, the last ice was eaten, the crackers were all pulled. aDd people began to push back their chairs. Antje slipped unperceived Into the cloakroom and sent a servant to call her husband. He came, fretful and cross. “You wish to go?” he Inquired. “Yes,” she replied. “But first I must accompany - Frau lein von Zweidorf hone.” “You ?” “Who else is there?” “Very well,” she said, firmly; “hut you must allow me to drive there with you, Leo, and then to go straight home, for it is impossible for me to stay here any longer." He gave a short laugh. “If it is any pleasure to you." he said, “I will in vite Maiberg too to join us in this ex cursion. She blushed suddenly. She had not bean moved by jealousy at that mo ment; she had though of nothing but getting away as soon as possible. In a few minutes they were sitting in the landau. Antje could still feel the soft, caressing touch of the Baron ess. at parting, on her arm "It Is really wonderfully nice of you, Frau Jussnitz, to act such a motherly part toward that little girl,” she had said. They drove in silence through the quiet straits, which seemed endless. Then the clocks began to strike twelve, one after another—it was Christmas morning. “And peace on earth!’’ murmured Antje. and she felt for her husband’s hand, and laid her hot. slender fingers In it. Only one hearty pressure, and nit would have been well. But there was no response. He passively sub inittod, and that was all. Slowly she drew her hand a wav. Hilda, on the seat beside her, did not stir till the carriage stopped be fore Aunt Polly’s little dwelling. Ig o sprang out quickly and help *1 the young girl to descend. Upstairs there was still a light, in the sitting-room, and as l,eo pulled the bell, a window was throw-u up in the I>e?t parlor. Is it you?" called out the voice of Tiati Berger, scarcely recognizable for agitation. " Yes, aunt." Indeed! Well, then, you can just go straight back to where you came from’ It is all over between us two and—you ruay like to know that a letter to your Tat hew is already on the way.” “Aunt!” shrieked the young j a horror. But the window was closed violently upstairs, and the light put out. l.eo Jussnitx shrugged his shoulders "What Is to be done about it?" ha said. "Aunt l’oll.v is very angry. Get in again and come to Sibyllenburg with us." Antje had put her head out of the carriage window. "For Heaven’s sake, what sort of people are they that she in longs to?" went through her mind. She could see the* young girl now pulling desperately at the bell. - "Aunt’ Aunt!’ her trembling voice sounded through the silent night "Her people will not let her in. it seems." raid Malberg calmly. "Then give It up. My wife will be very glad to have you go home with us," they ?ear lao s voice saying out side. “You see we cannot possibly make an uproar here iu the middle if the night." Antje moved silently over to the other side of the carriage, and the next momeut the girl’s trembling figure sank down among the cushions beside her. Sobbing with anger and mortification. To be Continued. There are 3? students on the staff of the California daily press. BROADWAY HABITUES MEN WHO PASS THEIR LIFE ON THE ONE STREET. THEIR LOYALTY PECULIAR Sort of a Poetry About the Good Oid Lane Which Charms and Holds Varying Moods of the Streets With the Day and Season—Queer Types of Men. Up on the Broadway of the Tender loin there may be found well-dressed prosperous-looking men, with that about their gait and general bearing which says plainly, “for years I haven’t been off the city pavements.” All of them will tell you, with no visible sign of amusement, that they have not been below Fourteenth street in years, and, with the exception of some few principal side streets, they assert that during that time only Broadway has known them. Just what the tie is that binds the con firmed citizen of Broadway to his one thoroughfare only those Into whose blood Broadway has entered may say. “No, I couldn’t tell you just why I love and live on Broadway," said one of a fashionable hotel on the Rialto, “but this much I can say: I get my living on Broadway. I spend my money on Broadway and 1 have my lodgings right above here. I never go away for the summer, and the men of my set don’t either. If the day is warm there is always a breeze on Broadway. And the trolley cars make it alway spossible to keep cool. Then most of the people who go to seaside resorts spend a good portion of their evenings listening to violent vaudeville shows which are of the poorest description. Now, right here on Broadway, if I have any time of that sort to spend, I can get the best vaudeville, with all the accompani ments of cool breezes and cool drinks Asa summer resort Broadway Isn’t bad. Then in the cool of the evenings. Instead of associating with a lot of strangers, as one is forced to do at a summer place, I merely stroll up the line. My friends are spread out all the way to Forty-fourth street. We know each other’s habits so well that it’s only a matter of a few moments to find any given person. “Of course, the average man with out imagination who comes but oc casionally in contact with the Broad wayer would say that the reason we like the big, long street is because we’re lazy and the street’s so con venient, with its miles of assorted wares. But -there’s something more than that in it all. There’s a sort of poetry about the’ good old lane. To me Broadway has as many moods as a woman, only they're not all feminine moods, by any means. In the morning when you feel like going out to battle with the world, there’s the rush and roar of Broadway to sot you on. Cars, cabs and trucks beating their various noises together make up a symphony which loses little, even though its theme is buy and sel.l If a man were totally without ambition. I believe if he were set out on Broadway In the morning he would be fired to do and dare. Everybody is rushing some where with a very defluite purpose, to judge from the bearing; so the loiterer fels that, it Is no place for him. un less he has an aim. And if he hasn’t one, he speedily finds one . Why, even I, on a slack day, when 1 may chance to stroll out on the old alley, although 1 haven't the least bit of business to attend to in the world, suddenly find myself rushing off down the street as though to keep an ap pointment with a railroad president. And sometimes, just to keep in the swim. 1 find out some new bit of busi ness tci attend to. though when I started I hadn’t any idea of so doing. Thus Broadway adds to my susten ance. "But Broaway isn’t all business. She has tenderer moments. In the even ings she is given over to pleasure. Smoothly drawn cabs take the place qf the commercial traffic of the earlier part of the day. She is bright with gay toilets, men’s laughter and wo men’s smiles. Up in the Tenderloin's the theatergoers take possession for a few hours. Then their sway is over. Fiercer and more unrestrained be comes the mood of Broadway. From the side streets float up and down the alley snatches of coon songs which originate in the intersecting street re sorts. Men In evening dress support tipsy women to cabs .Then the cool night breeze of Broadway In the early morning blows up. The loiterers and pleasure-seekers disappear. Occasion ally some party of wellknown Broad way comedians lurch up the way to their hotels. ’ The forerunners of the day’s com merce, the milkmen and newsboys, come clattering around. Then the day's round of moods Is resumed. There is one mood, however, that comes to Broadway but once a week, if Rip Van Winkle were to wake up from a 20-years' cat-nap on Broad way of a Sunday afternoon, aftkr faring round a bit, he would exclaim; ’1 don't know what this town is or who toese people are. but It’s Sunday afternoon.’ "For on that afternoon Broadway displays her gentlest mood. There is no roar of traffic; commercialism, for gotten, sleeps. Bright sunshine and quietly moving crowds are the rule. People from the extreme east and west side* of the town make the big wide street their pleasure ground. Of course in this town there are those who prefer to walk upin Fifth avenue, but the man—or woman either for that matter —with Broadway in his 1 veins doesn’t quit the dear old street i simply because it’s Sunday. ’ "Then there are certain annual [ moods of Broadway whose infinite | < harm time can not spoil. Election night, for instane’e. On that occasion people don’t go to Fifth avenue to I celebrate, even if there are no street I car tracks on that thoroughfare. By a tacit and non£ the less hearty consent, rich and not so rich, poor and -not so poor, make for Broadway, especlally the Broadway of the Tenderloin. There, no matter what the result may be, it is fittingly celebrated. Howling, joke-playing, happy people occupy every inch. Besides the usual ele ments of every New York crowd there ar present on that occasion people from the most exclusive residence sec- i lions of Manhattan. Some of the best women In town I have seen on that ! night wildly blowing horns and then smiling into the eyes of any passing stranger who happened to understand their mood —or rather this particular mood of Broadway. “On Broadway ‘the woman’ is seen at her loveliest, and in some senses her saddest on a rainy night. Through the downpour and the perspective cre ating'mist her bright lights flash like a woman’s smile through her tears. She is tender; you arc loath to leave i her. You bear her no resentment be j cause she lias gotten yon a trifle out of press. Even the voice of her traf fic is softer and richer. “Some poet said somewhere that if he could comprehend a flower in its entirety he would know what God and I man were. If I could comprehend, ap preciate, and know ail that makes Broadway the most wonderful stretch of pavement in the world 1 would come pretty near knowing what man is. Certainly I would comprehend the whole of life and human nature, for all of the passions, the emotions and the ambitions of the human soul exist simultaneously on Broadway.”—New York Times. JEWS OF NEW ENGLAND. As Faithfully Described by a Boston Rabbi. Picture. for yourself, says Rev. Samuel Hirshberg in the Jewish Mes senger, if you chance to be a resident of any of your large metropolitan cen ters. the situation of affairs within your own 1 j-al Jewish community and its outlying dependencies, and you will have a fairly accurate likeness of such a situation as it exists in Bos ton and New England, or. for that mat ter. any large center of Jewish life in this country. It is true of people generally that they are “pretty much the same the world over;” and it is equally true of us Jews, especially If we used the won! "wt>rla“ h%re in the restricted sense of America. We have about the same proportion of earnest, devoted, truly religious members of the synagog, and the same proportion of their indifferent, apathetic, and even “dejudaized" brethren here in New England as you will find in the community with which you may be particularly acquainted. We have the same spectacle presented to the eye of the large majority of our male Jews, strangers to the house of God on ordinary Sabbaths, gathered there on the high holidays almost to a man. as you will have offered to your view In your respective temples on the forth coming Rosh Hashonali and Yom Kip pur. We have the similar com posite community, representing world wide native origins and extract'ons, and "view's" of every variety of shade, from the most ultra orthodox to the most extremely radical, with the former, as sponsored by our Russian co-religionists, largely the dominat ing views, if we accept numbers as our criterion. We have the similar social lines drawn between those who either in themselves oi their parents had or lacked the singularly precocious prenatal foresight of se lecting as their place of birth or an cestral hailing some special portion of God s fair earth where “superior" Jews are rained. and the similar humorous, if they were not often too serious. Instances within our own ranks of a "Rishuth,” which exercises us so much when manifested by the outside world. And. as the outgrowth of these conditions, we are met with the similar difficulties and perplexities, the similar encouragements and dis couragements. the similar hopes and fears, and cherish the similar optimis tic view of the present and its out come In the future, as may you whose eyes these lines may meet ac cording to your individual mood and its susceptibilities Speaking for myself, who am an optimist. I find ample reason for en couragement in the situation here in New England. Some discouraging features, indeed, there are. The ma jor portion of out* • people are not as much In earnest about their religion as we should like to have them. They give us frequent reason to complain about their attendance upon divine worship; they do not stand as ready as they once did to make sacrifices for their religion. Still, despite such circumstances, an appeal to their Jewish consciousness where the weal of Judaism and its Institutions may be In question, when we have had oc casion to make such, has revealed the Jewish feeling" to be still as deep, .is strong and vital as ever. The po t ullarly Jewish institutions are well ‘upported—the temples, the religions schools, the various eleemosynary or ganizations and enterprises, the or phanages. cue foster homes, the free burial societies, the dispensaries, the immigrant relief associations, and, of course, the “Jewish’’ clubs. We have read, the last twelvemonth, of a num ber of Jewish synagogs in New Kng land which were in course of constrac tion or finished and dedicated. Massa chusetts possesses a number of the#e, and but lately, the present summer, to fact, witnessed within the confines of Greater Boston the ceremonies inci cb nt to the laying of the corner-stone of two such structures by corigroga tors but newly organized. Of such congregations. namely, the newly o:ganized, we arc constantly receiving information. And whll“ these in the main an called into being by our K msian brethren, who seem to have special genius for such things, as also a pecuiiai ambition, more or lees landfill'' according to the ability to harmonize they may evince therewith to be each individually a cougrega | tional manager, the cause of Judaism [locally 1 talc it. is on the whole on the advance. As to 11 future of these congrega itioos. as of their older kindred of the • ( rthodox i. pc, I am of the opinion that by the stress of circumstances, the “spirit of the times.” if you will, they will be obliged to surrender their present policies and ally themselves with the relorm movement. The fu ture of Judaism in America, I am con vinced, belongs to reform. it may I take several generations yet, but in good time we shall see those who hold Ito the orthodox faith abandoning a ! ritual which has become obsolete, and ■laying by therewith forms and eere | monies which have lost their signlfi cance. and adoptir = a form of wor ship and observarce which expresses with closer correspondence to modern ideas and feelings on religious ques tions. the great principles and truths and aims of Judaism. It is with a peculiar pleasure that 1 look forwa.’d to such a consummation. Along with many today. 1 share the view that, the most hopeful and prom ising element in our modem Jewish communities are our young Russian men and women, the children of ortho do.c birth and rearing, as they chance to le In this country. These form the preponderating majority of young New England Jews. They will not be content to worship as did their fathers, nor abide by the practices which these did. A sense of filial loyalty and reverence, of which we constant}- witness beautiful instances, may keep them steadfast to parental methods and observances for the time being. But the liberalizing spirit of the age will in due course have its ef fect.- and well then may progressive Judaism rejoice to have gained over to its cause such young people whoce devotion to Judaism, so deeply im bued within them, would put to shame and stimulate anew the Sagging inter est of so many of our young people within the reform ranks now. These young Russian Jews now under prejudice’s social ban, but bound to come to the fore, bound to assert themselves, socially as in every other way, are most prominent to our hopes at the present -writing; and with them to the fore in my mind, it is that I venture to express re}self sanguine!} of the prospects of Judaism in New England, and to predict for it a bright and flourishing future. FOREIGN NOTES OF INTEREST. Berlin now uses an electric system for lighting street gas lamps. Twenty infantry companies in the French army are now equipped with folding bicycles. The English war department haß of fered a $4,000 prize for the best self propelling military wagon. The proportion of people in Norway who speak English is larger than in any other country in the world. The cellars of Portugal hold 132, 000,000 gallons of wine and there is no more storage room for the new crop. No fewer than 587.554 prisoners were in the prisons of British India in 1899-1900, an increase of 92,064 over the number for 1891. Of this huge total only 24.555 were females, which is a much smaller proportion than in -western countries.i Paris is just beginning to realiz. how priceless are treasures which it has Secured b.v the late Baron Adolph Rothschild’s bequest of medie val gold and silversmith’s work to the Louvre. The collection will all go into one room, which is now being pro pared for it. The collection is esti mated to be worth $4,000,000. happy tit bits. Barnes—Yes, I guess it is true that It is the little things that count. Howes—So you have come to that conclusion, have you? Barnes \es. You see. I was walk ing with Tedworth and he said if he should find a million dollars he’d give me half. Presently he picked up a dime, and when I asked him to share it with me he abused me like a pickpocket. * * • That was a good picture In the paper yesterday of your son. the foot ball player, Mr. Husking." aas, I knew who 'twas just as soon as I seen th' name under it" • * * Towne—Do I understand you to say that Spencer’s case was really a faith cure? Browne— Yes. You see. the doctor and the druggist both trusted him. The Jersey Brand. Quinn —Were the mosquitoes hie out there? De Foue Big? Why, when one entered the house it set off the burglar alarms.