West Virginia Democrat. [volume], June 24, 1887, Image 1

About West Virginia Democrat. [volume] (Charles Town, W. Va.) 1885-1890

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VoI. 111., No. XVI. CHARLESTOWN, JEFFERSON COUNTY, W. VA., FRIDAY, JUNE 24, 1887._ Price 3 Cents
No One Need
Remain
A Dyspeptic.
-I have i»een suffering for over
two years with Dyspepsia. For
the last year l t amid not take a
drink of eol l water nor eat any
meat without vomiting it up.
Mv life was a misery. 1 had
had recommended Si III metis
Liver Regulator, of which I am
now taking the second hottle.
and the fact is t h it wor Is can
not <'\|ii'i 'S tin*!' lii'f l tee!. v
•ipjii tile is verv g *•» l. n, •. I di
go.-t, everyth’ag »*■ ihlv. I
!«i-p well u i.v. an i l ns *d to he
verv restless. ! r*m i» *s!>:ng up
i;i>i; go. >d, strong tool and
.d(muons Liver il -gulator have
done it a!i. 1 write this iu
hopes of henelWn* some one
who has suffered as I lid. and
would take oath to these state
mentis, if desired.
K. S. Rai.i.oI', Si'ntcuse. Ye/».
(ienuiue has Z tn red on front of
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I ‘ oNI.Y liEXUlNK a i
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ft,w.\. i’A\ Siv«,o.Vts
f C,\V:‘c6.
Vc^‘' v
Cancer of the Tongue.
Mr v. iit son* three or four years ago.'.. «>• n- u
tt d withal! ulctrouth© m-ta ot her “ I*Kua D**^
De throat. The pain *w tnce saut. car !»«f •**
tr ra-ep and producing ureat nervous yri*n*lk>n.
A -co-iu-anying this trouble was rheur.wtiani. It
i'j .inyr«from the ahouMere and contend in the
;■ r hand she alin<>at loamir the use of It
Between thesuffering of the two, lUe had gtown
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iX^bStUrtOl Swift's specific,ahe w.ts entirely
rtitefetl auti reatonhl to tualtb. Ttui wan V1^10
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eltc ** ’ H. L
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t. P. UPP1TT.
RIFLE SHOOTING.
THE OLD KENTUCKY STYLE AND
ITS MODERN MODIFICATIONS.
An Interview With a Veteran llifleman.
The Kentucky Hunter’s Method of
Takiug Aim—The rialnsman’s Way.
German ltiUcmcn—Military Style.
In the palmy days of Creedmoor no man
was better known on tho range than Jim
Coulin, the rifleman. Tho veteran has given
up long rango shooting, but still talks in
structively about handling firearms.
*• W hat can you tell about tho methods aud
principles of offhand shooting?” ho wssasked.
‘•I can begin by telling how to stand while
ting,” he replied. “Tho Kentucky stylo
of offhand shooting was tho right tiling and
In . t I e :i improved upon. Let us go back
t<> the old original Kentucky shooters of the
I ’ ana l Uooiio type and seo how they shot, f°r
they were the first accurate riflemen in tho
wo111, and rifle shooting may be said to have
lux-u born in tho backwoods. Hero is a genu
ine Kentucky squirrel rifle. Tho barrel is
f..i iy niches long—ten inches longer than tho
-porting riflo of to-day, and there is metal
ea« ugh in it for a crowbar. The whole piece
is four fwt eight inches in length and weighs
about twelve pounds. The stock runs tho
whole length of the barrel, same os a musket,
and there is a brass box in tho butt for
patches. It takes a strong man to hold such
a gun to life shoulder offhand, boenttso tho
barrel is so heavy forward. Old Kentuck
didn't hold it that way when ho could fiud
anything to rest it upon. When he wanted
to draw a bead on a redskin ho looked for a
l«-.g or a sapling to rest the barrel against.
Powder was powder in those days, and it
didn’t pay to waste a shot When there was
no sapling handy tho Kentucky hunter inado
use of his ramrod. He always had a hickory
ramrod that he whittled out himself, and was
ns proud of its perfect shape and finish as a
fisherman is of his fancy bamboo fly rod. Ho
would take the ramrod out and hold it in his
left hand, with one cud against his hip, so as
to make a brace to support tho weight of the
rille and steady his arm. 11c would do some
pretty fine shooting at short range. Tho Ken
tucky rillo carried a ball 33-100 of on inch in
diameter, tho size of our modem 32 caliber,
and was loaded with not over sixty grains of
Imuder, anl twenty rods was considered
j .-l tty good range for accurate shooting with
it offhand. In loading a linen patch was
used to cover the ball and take tho grooves,
and, as there was but littlo friction, the ball
came out smooth and had a lot* trajectory at
short range.
“Now we get down to tho (Kentucky stylo
of shooting with a modem sporting rifle.
The find thing is to stand erect, feet near
together, body easily balanced. Grasp
the tore end between the left thumb aud
forefinger at a i>oint just a trifle forward
of where tho rifle will balance. Tho right
hand grasps the stock so that the barrel,
hand, wrist and forearm ore in line, tho
same as in bolding a pistol liaise tho butt
t.itne shoulder so tliat the curve wilt just
lit. not resting the lower point of the butt
against tho shoulder as some do. The riflo
then falls into tho palm of the left hand and
the ends of tho fingers just touch tho right
side of tho barrel. You don’t draw tho
rillo toward you with the left hand at
ull, but merely support its weight,
with the cHkjw in a vertical line ex
actly under the barrel Tho right elbow
is raised as high as the top of tho ear when
you drop your check against the ball of your
thumb, bringing your right eye in with the
sights. The right hand draws the rifle firmly
against the shoulder, nml tho fore finger
presses, not pulls, the trigger. The Kentucky
method of taking aim is to raise tho muzzle
iu line, and shoot when it gets up to tho right
elevation, although a few shoot on tho drop.
That is the stylo of shooting adopted by tho
lu-st offhand riflemen in tho world — the
American frontiersman of the past—and I
have taught it for a great many years. An
old Kentucky method of shooting at the word
was to h- >!d tho riflo butt against the shoulder,
muzzle pointing vertically to the ground,
keep the eye fixed upon tho mark, and raise
tho rifle, with the butt as a pivot, quickly to
the line of sight.
r-The plainsmen of to day hold a rifle differ
ently, but they shoot under somewhat differ
ent "conditions, and no doubt their stylo is
U^t adapted to their needs. They extend the
left arm to full length without rigidity nud
grasp the barrel well out toward the muzzle.
This givi>s better control over tRo barrel in
shooting at moving objects, and tho principle
is the same as in trap shooting with a scatter
gun. Dr. Carver shoots iu this way, and he
demonstrates that the extended arm enables
the shooter to follow a moving object better
with the muzzle ami change the lino of sight
more quickly and accurately. In firing from
horseback the advantages of this style are aj>
parent. Tho nearer the left hand is to the
muzzle the loss deviation does any accidental
or unavoidable movement of the hand and
arm make in the aim. If the left hand is
close to the trigger guard a movement of half
an inch then.1 will move the muzzle an inch
and a half at least.
• The German method is nulicaljy different
from tho American. Go to a schuetzenfest
and notice how the chaps in Kossuth hats and
green aprons handle their rifles. They are
great fellows for shooting with a rest, but
they do get down to offhand work. The
German balances bis rifle on the ends of his 1
left thumb and fingers, with hiselbow resting
on Lis left hip. The left foot is advanced anil
the body bent backward a little to give the
hip rest for the elbow. The right hand bare
lv grasps the stock, but tlio arm is relaxed
ami very little power Is exerted by the ulus
ell's to press the butt against the shoulder. A
hair trigger is used, and a mere touch fires i
the rifle. The Germans do some good shoot- l
w but you can't call that sort of thing Lold
iug a.ritle. It is simply balancing the piece
and touching the trigger, and it would be ton- i
practi able for sporting and quick shooting.
Sonit times a German rifleman has a handle
about six inches long which he attaches to :
the under side of the rifle just for
ward of the guard. The end of this
contrivance rests in the palm of his left
hand, and in that way lie gets a better hip (
rest without bending his body so much, and
at the same time raises the barrel to the level
of his eye. Of course sonio German riflemen
shoot iii tho American way in this country,
1 nt the method I have described is peculiarly
German, and is adhered to by schuetzen corps
as a rule.
-The approved military style of holding a
rifle comes nearer to the Kentucky than auy
other, the principal difference being that tho
right elbow is not raised higher than the
shoulder. The left hand may be anywhere
forward of the lock plate, but the best position
is at tho point where the gun will balance on
the {aim of the hand. It is better forward
than back of that point. If the i>oint of sup
port is too far back, the weight of the barrel
is inci eased by leverage, and a totally un
necessary amount cf strength wasted in re
sisting the tendency of tho barrel to drop.
The extra strain upon tho muscles is liable to
cause unsteadiness and trembling, and a very
little movement < f the arm will spoil the aim.
The (i« moan style would not do for a soldier
at nil. Haviug a gun that kicks like a mule,
ho must follow the Kentucky idea of bolding
It firmly against Uis shoulder with his baud
and forearm.r—New York Sun. . 'n
HANDSOME MRS. KATE CHASE.
Pen Picture of the Lady who Ruled
Washington Society Fifteen Years Ago.
Some days ago an afternoon reception was
given by the wife and daughters of Mr. A. B.
Mullett, formerly supervising architect of
the treasury. Among the ladies receiving
with the hostess was Mrs. Kate Chase, as she
now calls herself—tho once famous and al
ways beautiful Kitty Chase. It was the first
tinio sho had appeared at any social gathering
in Washington for many years, and this
woman, who fifteen years ago ruled M ash
iugton society as it never was ruled before
or since, was not personally known to ono
fourth of the guests present. Beside her stood
he.* daughter Ethel—a slim, indefinite kind of
a girl, possibly to bo pretty, but never to be
as handsome os her mother.
As for Mrs. Kato Chase, her beauty is of
that noble sort that ago cannot wither nor
custom stale. Besides, she is a woman who
has passed through great storms without let
ting them agitate her unduly. She is now
nearly 4o years old, but Bhe looks ten years
younger. She has lost the first brilliancy of
her youthful complexion, but sho can’t help
l>eing superb and distinguished. Iu the day
of her jxwer sho was intensely feared and ad
mired, but never inspirod or seemed to try
to inspire affection, so that tho animosity
she awkakerted on the part of those who saw
her for the first time in many years assisting
at a party was of a critical kind. No doubt
this suited her quite as well, because pity is
something she always disdained.
She is no longer rich, and inherits Chief
Justice Chase's financial inabilities in a marked
degree. The sum of what she has now is tho
small competence left by her father, who
lived aud died a poor man. Whatever claim
sho has upon Canouchet is worth nothing
now, and this woman who could order twenty
two gowns with all accessories from Paris
not many years ago, and repeat tho order
whenever she felt like it, appeared tho other
day in the simplest kind of a black costume.
But it was nevertheless elegant and appro
priate. because it couldn't bo anything else
with Kitty Chase as its wearer. Sho ulways
hail a perfect genius for clothes, and her
striking beauty gained effect from tho style
in which she dressed.—Washington Letter.
A Young Indian’s Self Torture.
Muzzah, a promising young Sioux Indian,
who is one of Buffalo Bill’s attractions, re
ceived word the other morning of the death
of his brother at Pine Ridge agency, Dakota,
and lie began to mourn his loss in true Indian
fashion, lie first uttered u prolonged series
of yells, shrieks and groans that brought all
tho police in the neighborhood to tho garden
and aroused all tho inmates of that extensive
structure who were taking a morning sleep.
They all knew what the matter was and only'
the uninitiated in Indian customs gathered
around him to watch the proceedings. As tho
fervor of his grief increased ho drew his long
bowie knife from its sheath and began slash
ing his bared breast, arms and legs with it.
While the blood from half a dozen wounds
was coursing down his body and forming red
pools at his feet, ho sat down aud with tho
samo bloddy weapon began whittling out
wooden pins about the thickness and length
of a lead pencil, which he sharpened to a
point. Daring the time that i( took him to
manufacture a half a dozeu of these he kept
up the loud, dismal howling, expanding in
volume os the pain increased and tho pools of
blood grew larger.
When tho skewers were ready ho caught
tho fleshy part of one leg between the thumb
end tho fingers of the left hand and drove tho
wooden pin into tho flesh until the pin pro
truded. Ho did the samo to each limb, aud
also drove a pin through either check. These
ce allowed to remain for two hours, during
which time none dared to speak to him or at
tempt to interfere. Among tho Indians it is
on pain of instant death that one Indian
speaks to another who is in “mourning" until
after tho third day. After the Indian drew
out the pins he rolled himself from head to
foot in his blanket aud crawled into one of
the mangers, where he lay all day' without
food or drink, moaning and groaning and
occasionally breaking out into wild shrieks as
ho thought of his loss. Tho blood stained
wooden pins were exhibited to many visitors
to the garden, and there were many applica
tions for them to bo kept as mementoes. —
New York Tribune.
A Lady ltailroad Stenographer Talks.
I have often thought that the humdrum life
of a stenographer had a tendency to break
down and eventually drive out altogether the
imaginative and {joeticnl in one's nature and
make lifo practical in nil its details. The
murmurings of poesy on moonlight, violets,
memories and hope, grate harshly against the
whisperings of the chief clerk on subject of
draiu tile and the tariff rate on wheat in car
loads, with the result of giving the poem a
dry flavor, savoring of owner's risk with a
rebate. Leisure hours cannot be devoted to
poetry, because thought must be concentrated
upon rate quotations, billing directions, un
stamped tickets, w hile one's dreams are filled
not with the beautiful, but with mocking
ghosts of rates, tariffs and waybills.
Inspiration may come at times, but so cer
tainly will also coino the rate clerk with the
request to make a hektograph copy of a lot of
per cent sheets, dreadful things with strings
of figures, not nice, even figures, but with
lots of fractions to them which must not be
mixed up with the various other per cents.
Most of my working hours are spent in a rail
road office, and I lmvo almost given up my
poetical dreams to look after shipments of
water pipes, stove castings, potatoes, butter,
furniture, hams, hides, stoves, oil cakes,
lumlier, beer, eggs, live stock, patent medi
cine, etc.—Globe-Democrat.
Senator Stanford's Wife.
It seems Mr. Stanford will never be a great
society woman, although this winter, for the
first time since their son's death, she has
come out of retirement and has also enter
tained \ But she can't help having her
superb tonds remarked on and her
gorgeous ; observed. She still wears »
kind of half mourning—the kind which ad
mits of lace and diamonds—anil she is a dig
nified and fine looking woman. Both she and
Senator Stanford have a life work in per
petuating the memory of their son in a way
to benefit other people's sons—and Mrs. Stan
ford .says she is too deeply interest oil in that
to give a great deal of time to society. But
Washington is such a fascinating kind of
place that she will be just like everybody else
—give a great deal more time to it and go
out vastly more than she expects.—New York
Mail and Express.
Wales as n Scientist.
Tho London correspondent of Science
writes that the Prince of Wales has just been
elected an honorary member (probably tho
first British one) of tho Linnman society,
which has hitherto been somewhat chary of
bestowing its “parchments sealed with wax.”
This famous society was founded in 17SS, and
is the owner and custodian of the library,
manuscripts and herbarium of the illustrious
Linnseus, who died in 177S. These were or
iginally bought from his family for about
$3,500, by Dr. James Edward Smith, who
founded anil was first president of the Lin
mean society, which has comprised in its roll
all the most distinguished naturalists of the
day, and may be considered to be a select club
of scientists.
THE FIRE KIKG'S TRICKS, j
\ REPORTER’S EXPLANATION OF
HOW THEY ARE PERFORMED.
' -- . , I
k Marvelous Medley of Magic—Wonder
ful Performance of a Man In League
With tho Powers of the Fire and
(
Brimston World.
The professor was a little man, generous I
ind expansive in the matter of shirt front,
•ed as to hair and blessed with a surprising
implitude of coat sleeve and tail.
‘ Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, coming
»tho front of the stage and turning back
lis cuffs with an innocent air and that gen
?rally clean fingered dexterity which cliar
' icterizes the manual motions of sleight of
aaud men—"ladies aud gentlemen, begging
four pardon in advance for tho liberty 1 am
along, I wish to state that in tho hall of
;his opera house, just outside tho door, there
is a faucet connected with tho pipes which j
supply tho city with water. If some young
gentleman in the audienco will bo so kind as
X) fill this tin utensil in my hand’’—ho lifted
l tin quart bucket from tho table and tapped
it with his forefinger—“with water from j
;hat faucet, I shall proceed to burn it—not
ooil it, understand mo, but burn the water 1
• with a flame which yon may all see.”
After a little natural persistence aud somo
urging from tho professor a couple jit young
gentlemen, aged about 13 summers, conveyed
die tin bucket out into tho hall, whence they
presently returned with a quart of water,
which tho professor demonstrated to bo pure
water by drinking a few swallows of it A
suggestion from tho rear of tho hall that tho
jrowler might contain beer was properly ig
uored, aud the remainder of tho clear fluid
was poured from tho bucket into a glass fruit
iish.
"Salamandissimus, salamandos!” remarked
tho professor, solemnly, while ho waved his
hands over tho surface of tho water. "I com
mand thee, once; I command thee, twice; I
command thee, three times, In tho name of
brimstone, firel”
A rose colored flame appeared on tho water,
and gradually spread until it embraced the 1
whole area of the surface and rose pyramid
wise.to a height of about twelve inches. Dur
ing tho subsequent proceedings the water con
tinued to burn.
SEVERAL FAMILIAR CHEST .'UTS.
Then ensued the cracking of a number of
familiar chestnuts, such as tho cooking of an
omelet in a borrowed silk hat. tho mysterious
production from nowhere of an outfit of tin
ware and a guinea pig, et id oinno genus.
A bar of lead was melted in a crucible over
a small furnace, and according to the prom
iso on the bills the professor proceeded to
wash his hands in the molten metal. Ho did
the work thoroughly, plunging his hands to
the elbow into the crucible, now and then
scooping up tho liquid load in his palm and
dropping it upon the board floor of the stage
where it instantly hardened in thin flake!
Tho blade of an ordinary steel table knife
melted like wax in Ihe flame of a tallow
candle under the inOwucc of his touch, and
then, dipping a pen into tho dish of burning
water, tho professor went through the mo
tions of writing upon a folded newspaper
handed to him by one of the audience. When
the hail was darkened tho words, “Phorguson,
the Phire King, right hand of his Majest}'
Diablos!” stood out in green flames from tho
surface of the puper.
So far, so good. Tho tricks were per
formed ; but the city editor’s instructions to
find out how they were performed and to
write an expose of tho Fire King's secrets un
huppily were not yet carried out While tho
audience was conveying itself through tho>
doorway into tho street I ell>owed my way’
behind the scenes and corralled t ho professor,
who was engaged In packing bis parapher
nalia. When you want a man to do you a
favor, it is by no means best to approach him
with an obsequious air; if you do, he will
probably tumble to your racket, so to speak,
and givo yon the cold shake. I kept my hat
on and paralyzed the professor with a steely
glaio and just a shade of hauteur.
“Representing the press,” 1 said brusquely,
producing u pasteboard. “Are not the
chemicals used in your—ah—ah—tricks, are
they not dangerous—of an inflammable nat
1 urc—apt to explode; and all that?”
A SCARED PROFESSOR.
While I was talking. I made somo notes in
a manuscript book, giving tho professor the
idea that the jottings were to the effect that
his entertainments wero of a character
hazardous to the audience.
“Good gracious, sir! no!” lie gasped; “by
4II means do not publish such an insinuation;
it would ruin me. All my agents are innocent
when rightly used.”
I smiled cynically—“Yes, of course you say
so.”
“But I can provo it. Potassium, phos
phorus, brimstone, quicksilver. Are they ex
plosive!”
The trail was getting warm.
“Well, of course, that depends. Tho potas
sium, for instance, how do you uso it?”
‘T drop a small quantity of it upon tho sur
faco of the water in the glass dish. Upon
contact with the water it immediately flares
up and burns with a rose colored flame.
Simplest thing in tho world. With the brim
stone I merely touch a piece of steel mado
ml hot in the flame of n candle, and tho steel
melts like tallow. No danger there. A stick
of phosphorus is affixed to my pen when I
write upon the newspaper, and of course in
tho darkness the writing stands out. To wash
my hands in molten lead ifcju only necessary
to batho them previously in an ointment mado
of ono ouueo of quicksilver, two ounces of
bole ammoniaco, half an ounce of camphor
and two ounces of aqua vitas, beaten together
with a pestle in a brass mortar. I keep this
mixture by me constantly, and havo never
yet had the slightest accident.”
The still, small voice of the call boy’s clock
said “11” just as the professor was finish
ing his meaty sentence, and 1 rushed around
to tho office with scant time to write up and
hand in ray copy by 1- o’clock. I had not
exposed the professor's whole business, but I
had got at the marrow of four of his best
tricks.—Detroit Free Press.
Ihc Cloml Dispelled.
Alonzo—Dearest Edith, candor compels me,
on tho eve of our wedding, to confess that I
am a
Edith (in consternation)—Not a married
man?
Alonzo—No; but a somnambulist.
Edith—And is that all, dearest? That
should not separato us. Why, papa was
brought up an old fashioued Methodist and
mamma has always been a close communion
Baptist, and they've got along very well to
gether.—Harper’s Bazar.
An Epidemic of Rheumatism.
The Philadelphia Ledger thinks there is an
epidemic of rheumatism this winter, and says
that ‘Test for tho brain, tho body and tho
digestion, and a diet of hot water and cheer
fulness, is the treatment best warranted to
bring tho sufferers right.”
Stains can bo removed from marble by
, making a mortar of lime and strong lye and
spreading thickly on the discoloration; leave
for several days, then wash off perfectly
clean with a scrubbing brush. _ _
OLD CURIOSITY SHOP.
A PLACE FULL OF STRANGE AND
VALUABLE ARTICLES.
Paintings Worth n Fortnnc—Alexander
Hamilton's Dueling Pistols—A South
erner's Mistake—A Package of Dia
monds—Story of a Photograph.
“Yes, I havo received many curious and
antique articles since I began business thirty
fivo years ago/’ said Robert Taggart to a re
porter tho other day. Mr. Taggart is a pio
neer iu tho storage business and liis establish
ment is filled with old objects, each of which
has an interesting history.
“Now, among a vast collection of fine paint
ings which I got in tho course of busi
ness,” continued Mr. Taggart, “arc two
which I have been told timo and again are
originals by Ruliena One represents the
adoration of the Saviour in the stable of
Bethlehem. The subject of tho other I do
not know, as I have never met any one who
could tell me. • There is an inset iption on this
picture in one of the dead languages, I be
lieve, because I havo never been able to find
any one learned enough to translate it. The
picture represents a queen on a magnificent
throne giving orders apparently to somo of
the royal guards.”
“How did you become possessed of the
pictures 1” asked the reporter.
“The day tho first gun was fired at Fort
Sumter a gentleman who was very well
known hero then nnd hated equally as well
for his avowed sympathy with tho southern
cause came into my place and told mo ho in
tended going south ami aiding tho Confeder
ates with his money and every way else ho
could. lie asked mo to take his household
furnituro on storage.
“You won’t have to keep them long,” he
said. ‘The south will win sure, and I’ll re
turn to New York, for 7 can't live anywhero
else.’
NEVER CALLED FOR.
“I took liis furniture, but it lias never been
called for. He raise! a regiment south and
fell at Bull Run with his two sons at his side.
Ho had no near relaU res to mourn his loss and
so I havo his furnituro still. Tho Rubenses
were among his chattels and also a picture of
Murillo, for which I had boon offered $30,000,
There is practically no price on the Rubenses.
Besides these pictures mentioned I have as
fine a gallery of paintings os any connoisseur
would wish to look at. I havo always l»ecn
fond of pictures and never tried to dispose of
any of them, although some of them would
bring fabulous prices.”
Among other articles which Mr. Taggart
showed to tho reporter was n pair of beauti
ful dueling pistols inlaid with solid gold and
silver, which are the ones, Mr. Taggart says,
used by Alexander Hamilton in liis deadly
encounter with Burr ou tho Elysian fields,
where Weehawken is now growing up. Tho
pistols were once owned by Gen. Grunt, but
they jkissC'I from him to another branch of
tho family, and finally came into tho jxvses
sion of a Broadway jeweler, who is unfor
tunately addicted to drink. During one of
his periodical sprees he placed the pistols,
with some other property, on storage with
Mr. Taggart in order to raise money enough
to continue his debauch. Ho nevor called for
tho weapons uud tho man's wife wants them
sold, ns she says she hates to see them lying
around the house when her husband is on a
spree.
“ About two months ago,” said Mr. Tag
gart, “a well dressed middle aged man camo
into my place and, handing mo a small
chamois bag, asked mo how much I would
ask to keep it for him for a day or two with
out examining tho contents. ‘Twenty-five
cents/ I replied.
AN OUTRAGEOUS PRICE.
“Well, sir, tho fellow kicked like a mule.
Ho sworo he wouldn't pay such an outrageous
price, and finally l>oat mo down to twenty
cents for two days. Next tiny a detective from
tho Central office came in looking for such a
bag, and told mo the fellow who had left it
with mo was a famous western crook and
1 hat ho had him locked up in tho Tombs. I
went down there with tho bag, which was
opened in preseneo of tho judge and found to
contain diamonds valued at nearly $ 100,000.
it surprised mo that a man wishing and think
ing he could safely conceal such a plunder
would kick about tho cost, especially when
you consider the little I asked him.
“Oh, this is tho saddest thing I ever recol
lect,” continued Mr. Taggart, ns he showed
the reporter a photograph of n laughing, fresh
faced, curly haired girl. “Sho came into my
place ono day about two years ago and put a
few little effects in storage. Next morning
sho jumped from a ferryboat into tho North
river. When her body was recovered my re
ceipt for her furniture was all that was found
on her. I buried her and then proceeded to
trace her history. It was tho old story. She
was the darling daughter of a curate in a
littlo country town in tho north of the state.
A city stranger met and wooed her secretly
and she finally consented to elopo with hirn.
When they came to this city he deceived her
further by a mock marriage, ami when ho
finally deserted her she found cut that be was a
gambler. Then sho determined to kill herself.
Her sad end, which I could not help telling
her father and mother, broko tticir poor old
hearts and tbev soon followed her to tho Other
world.”
Among many other curious things which
Mr. Taggart has are skeletons, coffins, grand
fathers’ clocks, hon^s, sheep, cows, in fact all
kimls of animals and fowl, and as a curiosity
shop in every respect his place cannot be
heateu.—New York Journal Interview.
Few Know What They Drink.
•‘It is a fact,” said a somewhat famous
mixer of fancy drinks last evening, “that there
aro very few good judges of liquor. It is a
very old chestnut to set out whisky when
brandy is called for, and not one in ten cau
tell the difference. I have often been told by
a customer that he had never tasted finer
brandy when ho was drinking a very ordi
nary whisky. There are few |>eoplo who can
distinguish between high and low priced
wines. I remember nearly splitting my sides
once laughing at a man who was ordering
champagne. IIo was drinking Werner's
American extra dry, and told his friend how
he once drank it with M. Werner in Paris.
He thought it was the highest priced French
wine until ho found out that it was costing
him only a dollar a bottle. Then bo wilted.
“Even manufacturers arc sold. Once at a
convention of the bder brewers of the coun
try I heard a brewer boast that be could
name any kind of beer with bis eyes blinded.
Wo tried him, and when the handkerchief
was over his eyes wc gave him nine sips out
of the same glass and heard him name nine
different brands: That was very good sport.
As a matter of fact, this telling liquors by
the taste is very delicate business. By mod
ern processes distillers can age liquors so as
to fool even the old timers. The worst case I
ever struck was a fisherman who rowed ine
down the river last summer. I offered him a
swig out of n bottle containing very fine
whisky. He returned it, saying it was poor
stuff. I handed him a bottle containing some
‘rot gut’ I used to clean my gun He took a
long pull, and said it was as good liquor as be
ever tasted.—Buffalo Courier.
Grained wood should be washed with cold
tea.
THE DRESSING ROOMS.
AN ACTRESS SPEAKS POINTEDLY OF
A GREAT GRIEVANCE.
Accommodation Oat of Town That Are
a Disgrace to Manager#—Experience In
a Den Infested With Villainous Cock
roaches—A Nuisance.
The radiant adolescent was talking to the
sunny haired actress, or rather was drawing
her out and doing the listening. Ho was one (
of those little, stagey men who blink and look
wise when they know nothing about tho sub
ject in hand, and who maintain an appear
anco of blandly stolid imbecility when their
mind is not quite a blank.
‘‘And so they treat you so badly behind tho
scenes!” ho said smoothly, as the sunny haired
actress tried to clean a pink satin slipper with
ammonia and then made a wry face because
tho pungent chemical “went up her nose
ruthlessly. “I wouldn’t stand it, by Jove, not
for a minute.”
“Oh, yes you would,” said the littlo lady,
making another ammonia dab; “you'd stani I
a great deal more than I do; you’d jump If
yon got the chance, hal ha! You see, we all
expect too much. Now, Ijeforo I went upon
tho stage I used to imagine that each evening
I should lxs shown to a dainty little dressing
room, richly carpeted, handsomely furnished, j
be-looking glassed, be-ebaired and be-sofa’d.
I was idiotic enough to suppose that tho man
agement would supply a wardrobe in which j
I could keep my dresses, my properties and j
everything to which I laid claim. Instead of i
all this—oh, my heart sinks when I remcmlxjr
it”
“You don’t mean to say that you don c get
decent places to dress and undress in?” asked
the radiant adolescent, possessing himself of
a pink slipper and standing it on its little big
heel.
IN THE OCT TOWNS.
“Listen,” she said tragically, striking an .
attitude like the favorite poso of Fanny Dav
enport in “Fedora.” “I’m not going to tell
you anything about New York dressing
rooms, liecause—well, I don’t know very
much about them, and my engagements—
aliem!—call me principally to the provinces,
but I can tell you all about the accommoda- ,
tions out of town. They are simply villain
ous. Thoy are a disgrace to the managers of
theatres. Now, in one town I visited—I
won’t mention names—I was shown my dress
ing room by the manager himself, who told
mo he thought it such an improvement on
the general run of dressing rooms. It was
a wooden box, not as largo us one
of the bathing rooms at the Battery
baths. On one of the walls was a piece
of cracked mirror, which made my poor uose
look as though it were cut up iuto sections,
and gave mo a ghastly tint which no amount
of rouge would remove. There wero chink*
everywhere, and if there had been} ono of
those peeping Toms, one of whom frightened
Mrs. Langtry so much at Birmingham, 1
grieved to think of the predicament 1 should
have been in. Was it cold? Well, I should say
it was. That night I shivered In my poor lit
tle slippers—those very pink satin ones. 1
came to the theatre from a hot dining room,
in the full process of digesting my repast.
You can imagine with wliat danger to my
health I was forced to undress, put on a low
bodice, and stand with trembling shoulder?
while I rouged myself, gloved myself, and
concluded myself. If my constitution hadn't
become accustomed to such exposure I should
have died. I’m going to tell you more terrible
things. At one theatre I went to, I was
positively shown to a dressing room without
a door—not a vestigo of one. If I eboso tc
dress in it, I must do so in spite of the stage
carpenters and men of all work who passed
and repassed”
“But you didn’t chooso, I trust?'’
. “No, i thought it best not to do so. I de
clined to divest myself of a stitch until a tem
porary door of some kind or other had been
rigged up for me. Of course the men of all
Aork wero most unwilling to help mo, so I
kept every one waiting by llrst hunting for a
sheet, nailing it carefully where the door
should have been, and then dressing. Next
day I found a door—a brand now thing, but
still a door, and though it bad no lock, I was
very thankful for it
AN INFESTED DEN.
“While I was still new to tho business,"
continued tho sunny haired actress, sitting
down by tho radiant adolescent, “I had to
play tho part of a bride in a little far away
place with ono theatre—a grand opera house,
of course, where'grand opera never could,
would or should bo beard. I hod a magnifi
cent white satin dress, on which I prided my
self extremely. I caused it to bo sent to the
theatre to my dressing room to await me
there in tho evening. I went early. I may
say that l was feeling very nervous and un
strung, and when I feel like that [simpering]
everything upsets ny?. Well, the evening
come. I was shown to my dressing room.
Such a place! Such a vile, cold, contempti
ble, bare den! I was undressed and was just
taking up my whito bridal robe to put on,
when to my disgust, my horror, my loathing.
I saw insects crawling over it. I uttered a
shriek, dropped it, and I think I fainted.
Anyway I don’t remember bow two of my
colleagues got into my room, but there they
were. My den was literally infested as with
a plague. There were cockroaches in all di
rections—cockroaches to right, cockroaches
i to left-the most disgusting, persistent, con
tinuous stream of the—to me—terrible little
insects. What could I do? I hail cither to
put my dress on or disappoint the audience
and relinquish my salary. I put iny dress
on. I went shudderingly through my part,
but my cockroaches kept making me a mental
visit, and when the critics next morning said
that I seemed tube playing with a preoccupied
mind I think they were tolerably correct In
their surmises.
“In a very great many theatres," she went
on, “you find tbe walls of your dressing room
—if you can dignify them by tho name of
walls—covered with Jegends which some
playful predecessor in a fit of nlistraction lias
left to immortality. They are mostly excla
mations, and though they are biblical they
are not elegant. You get weary of • Jumping
Jebosaphat’ and ‘Holy Moses, when you too
them at intervals of half an inch where your
wall paper ought to be. I tell you that the
dressing room nuisance U one of tho biggest
nuisances of tbe day—to as. We stand not
tbe least chance of having their condition
ameliorated. We are in tbo bonds of tho
1 managers. They can do as they like with us.
Our grievances can never be ventilated, as
no one is sufficiently interested in us to help
as. People only care for what they can see.
They know that wo always, or generally, look
nice, and it. is a matter of complete indiffer
ence to the*geceral public by what means wo
look nice. In many respects oars is a thank
less profession—there’s no doubt about that.”
And the radiant adolescent, looking up in
her face, did not dare to express a doybt, and
as bis face was a gentle blank on all occa
sions be had no difficulty in appearing pleas
ingly vacuous.—New York Times Interview.
The Religion* Pres*.
Tbe Rev. Waldo Measaros, of Philadelphia,
said from his pulpit the other day: “Few men
1 read the religious press; it is not vivid
enough; there is too much patchwork, too
much stateness, and there is not the enterprise
of the secular press."
LOOKING OUT.
TTpon the heights of hope oil day
My soul stood looking far away.
Enwrapped in such sufficing thought.
That even your absence counted naught.
For blue the sea of distance grew.
And clear the archiug atmosphere.
Till I could plainly see you, dear—
Serene and joyous eyed and true,
And constant (as of old I knew>—
In the far away, which now drew near.
Lily Curry in Xcw York Graphic.
THE ODIOUSNESS OF TROUSERS.
They lleveal Inequality ot Wealth—A
Plea for Knee Breeches.
No article of clothing moro distinctly re
veals the condition of u man's purse than the
trousers. The fraying at tho lower edge of
the leg, which is sure to como with much
wear, is generally taken as a sign of very nar
row means, and tho bagging at tho knee,
which is also inevitable, besides producing a
foundered appearance, liko that of a horse
which is “gone’’ in the forelegs, is a sign that
a man has onlyono or two pairs. It is as
sumed by the world generally that nobody
would wear trousers bagged at the knee, with
all tho term applies, if ho could afford tho
number of changes necessary to prevent this
phenomenon. In fact, almost tho only
marked difference remaining in our day bp
tween tho clothes of a man of fortune and
leisure and those of a toiler of moderate
means lies in the straightness and smooth
ness which mark tho trousers legs of tho
former. His wordrob© always contains a
great many i«iirs. At any theatre, too, the
makeup of a i>oor teacher or literary man, or
poor devil of any kind, includes invariably a
pair of baggy trousers.
And though last not least, the condition of
the trousers in muddy weather is something
which it is painful to dwell on, tho conver
sion of an inch or two of the bottom into a
wet and iilthy band is only preventable by
turning them up, and we all know bow this
looks. An effort has recently been made to
meet tho struggles of men of few trousers to
escape tho bagging at tho know by an inven
tion of a machine called “the trousers
stretcher,” which is literally a metal rack on
which offending trousers nro stretched over
night, and the deformity effneed by a power
ful tension in the direction of their length. It
may, therefore, lx? said tlmfon the whole tin
knee breeches were tho more democratic ol
tho two. They undergo no degeneration in
wear, except what comes from the actual do
struction of the cloth. They reveal nothing
as to tho condition of a man's wardrobe until
they reach their last stage. They nlwnyr
look neat and tidy, and do not come in con
tact with the mud, leaving that to lx? < u
• countered by a boot or stocking which can
lx» readily changed. Hut they are in summer
a hot garment, owing to their fitting
closely around the knot?—a defect, however,
which is perhajw compensated by tho poaai
bility, without damage to npiK'ariuice, ol
mukingthem very loose.
They are, too, now making a gallant effort
to regain their old supremacy and oast tin
trousers. They have made conquests of most
of tho sporting men and athletes, and hnvo
made considerable gains in tho continental
armies. Tho Turks, who abandoned then?
under Mahmoud, tho reformer, for the (on
them) hideous trousers, have gone back to tin
breeches. Some faint attempts havo been
mode to introduce them again into evening
dress, but these have faihsl, owing in part hi
tho light and frivolous character of thom? who
havo made them. If undertaken in a soriom
spiiit by any of the crowned hoods, or by
gr-iat warriors and statesmen, or in thiscoun
try by great railroad men or stock ojK-raton
tho enterprise would probably succeed.—New
York Post.
How G. IV. Cable Com me need.
“What kind of work did I do on The* Pirn
yuncl That’s a question, and there is when
the trouble canto in. There was no such tiling
as a division of labor in those days, mid on- li
man had to do anything mid everything that
might turn up. I had stipulated at first not
to do certain kind of reporting, and thi
didn't plcaso the old man very well. It wo:
one of his rules that each man should d<
whatever was required of him, and I U n;m
rather in tho way. Then l wanted to !»• al
ways writing, and they wanted me to Is
always rcjjorting. This didn't work well, and
so when the summer cumcon, mid they began
to reduce expenses, it was intimated that my
resignation would be accepted. I vow«d Unit
I would never have anything to do with a
newspaper again, and I went hark to liook
keeping. I was in a large cotton house, and
I kept their accounts for u while, until 1
finally offered to take entire charge of tin
counting rooio at so much salary per year,
ami hire what assistance I want- -1. Thi*
suited the firm as well as it did me, and I lie
gan to do more and more literary labor.
Finally I employed a cashier, and nil day 1
would write at my desk, only living consulted
by him on inqiortaut matters. I was making
a lieginning then. I first carried on n weekly
column in The Picayune, but it wasn't very
pleasant to work for n [»a|ier managed by o
board of directors, and at last I quit it. Thi*
writing of trifles after a while grew weari
some, and I resolved to put it into stork-.
But it was not until six years ago that i
abandoned mercantile pursuit* entirely for a
purely literary life. I drifted into it in tin*
most natural way in the world, and I wouldn't
almndon it now for nil the fortune that rood
lie made elsewhere.”—G. W. Cable in New
Orleans Picayune.
UhcumatUm a* an Inheritance.
This seems to Ik* a rheumatic year. The in
te resting hut not welcome disease lias fnelud«d
in its fraternal grip invn ami women without
distinction ns to ages or social conditions
Htalwart President Cleveland ho* not been ex
empted from the list of sufferers. It i- a
mysterious malady, and though there are
thousands of remedies, there appears to l»o no
cure for the plaguey complaint. An old lady
who assumes to know all about its origin inter
viewed the fomented writer of Ibis para
graph, who has been a two months sufferer
somewhat after this style: “Keumatis i» a in
herited disease; you got thij from your
father or mother, didn't yer?" A ns: “No*,
that I know of.” “Then you bad it from y< r
grandtber?" Aus: “I think not.” ‘■Tbenj'ni
certainly got it from yer great-grandtber."
Ans: “No, there was no rheumatism ki. ».vn
in my family history. Perhajw some of ray
ancestors may bare been exposed to the heavy
wet during the deluge." “Look here, sir!"
exclaimed the old lady, “I didn't come hero to
be made fun of,” and out she bounced.—Bos
ton Budget.__
Experimenting VTftli Flair Dye.
In a sketch of tho early Mfo of Thomas
Bailey Aldrich, a writer in lit. Nicholas says
that when Thomas w;u> quite young bo ra w
advertised a preparation highly recommended
for making hair grow on bald headt lie
bought a bottle and applied it liberally to on
old hair trunk, whoso long residence in tho
attic hail left it very little hair. Tho bey
watcherl for results long and hopefully; but,
it is added, they were not satisfactory.—New
York Hun. __
The Beggars of Borne.
It is estimated that the beggars of Route
receive $2,000,000 a year in alms and that 500
of them are worth from $15,000 td $25.0W)
each. A Roman who can make money by
begging is uot going to work.