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THE PiRflDE OF THE A FOUR HUNDRED. i _ _ Billionaires Have Caught the Bicycle Fancy Dress Parade Fever and Will Sleep Down Bellevne Avenne four Hundred Strong. “THE LADY AND THE TIGER” AND UNCLE SAM. Venus, the Velvet, Flora, Delft Ware, indian, Sons of the Revolution, Pierrot, Watteau Flower Girl and Baby. OTSER PARADES AT SARATOGA. LONG BRANCH AND ASBURY PARK Newport. July 28.—The craze for the iaucy dress bicycle parade is at its very “eight, and can be called a craze in deed. Last year there were a few bi cye’e flower parades, but this year the genuine fancy drees parade takes place upou the wheel and upon the principal streets. Saratoga's bicycle flower parade is yet to come. Long Branch has just enjoyed one, when a score of pretty actresses received prizes for <thelr line dressing and their beautifully trimmed wheels. But by far the finest of the fancy dress bicycle parades will take place at Newport this summer, when, full 400 strong, they will sweep down Bellevue avenue, carrying with them a storm of applause and showers of flowers from all who are fortunate enough to see the procession. It will be modeled after the Long Branch one of two weeks ago. The bicycle fancy dress profession may be said to have begun with the Bradley Martin ball, when fancy dress .was made fashionable. The second gvfcflt impetus it got was from the great ball of the Ducbess of Devonshire, held a few weeks ago in London, when all came in fancy and historical costumes. Meanwhile, the bicycle flower parade has been going on every summer, be cause the wheel lends Itself so beauti tully and so naturally to decoration; and, therefore, when It was suggested that the fancy dress and the flower pa rade be combined it met with an en thusiastic reception. A bicycle fancy dress parade Is the easiest thing to arrange. The costume must first be obtained, then the wheel must be dressed In some characteristic way, after which the rider mounts and takes his place in the procession. Noth ing can be easier of conception or more beautiful to look at. The Newport bicycle parade, which take place this summer will be le of the most notable things that tre ever seen in Newport, not only its novelty, but because the Four ed who are supposed to be seat every kind of enjoyment, lend jives, heart and soul, to this new pleasure. “ the parat ? is in its Incipi ps t has been oilked __’ theaa^slumes rjrsftU ale to )l tiie to be ine of trons, Yau Paget ami O. H. Wilson. Mrs. rotter Pal rveers wnubs « (octal life. as could be obtained from a the people who are iuterest hirvrle oarade. here of the figures m they will ap peThe parade will be led by Uncle Sam. ■who will ride in the middle and a little ahead upon a nickle-plated wheel . Up ou the front of the wheel there will be torched a great stuffed eagle, whose ™~nce alone would proclaim tne ?Ser even if it were not for the known white hat and big coat wi'h gtars upon the collar and etrtpea «» be worn b, Vncle S*m. At Uncle Sam s right will ride the Watteau flower girl, who will be one of tha rnost beautiful matrons of Newport. 1, is said that the part will be taken by Mil Hobart Chattteld Taylor of Lhi c-^o.who recently celebrated her twen tv-flfth birthday in most glorious and JL. * style She is a very beautiful fouus woman, and an athlete and would carry out the part of the.deli cate Watteau beauty most acceptablj, vf, whether she can make her eummer arrangements so as to be present is u fliiMtloa But if she can be persuaded to come to Newport for this pur.de■th>» ran. will be assigned her. 1 he W at flower girl will dress In pmk and W wheel there -til he a w J Knf flowers put on a Trame r^’semwe a Sty. tL flower, will pink roses .ad blue forget-me-tlo ... with a background of green leaves to set them off. . The dress of the Watteau flower girl will be a pink and white striped silk 7k rt The waist will be figured in de £e pink flowers and bows 1 of blue ribbon will decorate it. wtthAi rising ribbon d lt, ^lue tor, ‘"“me-uou uo^rrKath it. This de smu like the other. Is fui.Hslwd by "fe of the mf.t celebrated of ^tr't'ncle Sam’s left wilt ride the ••lidy and the Tiger. ” Th . Is a ten i,!nLi Ip Newport belle, dressed for an Xrnoon drwe. wearing * pallor b« and the regulation street drum Be hind her will sit her groom, namely, tor Tiger. This Whwl t» n tandem. «d the “Tlger-J^ ££ The front of the wheel will be deron.. ed with flower, to m.tch the parasol. visT Louise McAllister, who is one oi , accomplished whee’women of ^cw^rt. will be asked to drejs in this ^Mhe 'extremc right of th# forward row will ride the Baby, whu | part will 5^ mken by one of the delitantes of d immer It is though*?that Miss S^an Aleu, the second <iauS^r of the known J J- Van Aleu. Vbose re si*,!* on as minister to l aiXrreatcd go much of a sensation four Jhrs ago liirike this part, as she u fhe most fin ous of the summer s debutantes. Thp°dress worn by the Baby will he white muslin, with a big white hat tied with a big white ribbon; J»d on tne front of her wheel will b fe^nea a big doll. One of the beauties of t that each character 6hows at first sight. Thi» frtUr axjteriaed all fancy {garden partial the —l finite character figure is left out and you can tell by plain sight just what the figure is in the parade. The other favorite, Pierrot, will be taken by one of the beaux of Newport. Pierrot has on his big white ruff, his little scull cap. his coat with big but tons and his loose trousers. Upon the front of his wheel there is a great ; bunch of daisies. He must be the most accomplished rider of all, for it is ex pected that he will perform many evo lutions upon his wheel. He. like the Baby, at tbe other end. is not expected to ride perfectly in line, but to cut up all sorts of entertaining antics to make the parade interesting as it sweeps along. Another figure is the Jester, known by his fool's cap and bells, whose mer ry tinkle sounds as he rolls along. The Son of the Revolution has on a three-cornered cap and a yellow and black striped suit with a ruffled shirt front. Another conspicuous figure is the Indian in his war paint, and his moccasins. The Violet is taken by a young lady in all purple, with clusters of white on her head and a pasteboard hat. cut like a violet. One of the pret tiest figures of ail is Delft Ware. This is taken by a young woman who wears a blue delft suit. It is a blue duck, in that peculiar shade of blue which delft always takes. Upon her head is a windmill of wood to represent one of the Holland wind-mills. All the gods and goddesses are also in the proces sion. There are Flora and Juno and Minerva and Venus, Apollo and Cupid. These are patterned after the famous pitces of sculpture and the paintings ! by well known artists, so that they are recognizable at' sight. It is very fashionable, this summer, to hold iancy dress parades for the benefit of favorite charities, and it is hoped that the Newport parade will be sea down to some well known charit [ able enterprise. However, this is very I unlikely, as it is purely a social thing. ! A great deal of charity is done inci dentally became a great deal of money ; is distributed, but the people of New port are not willing to invite people who line the pathway to see them. It is more for their own pleasure and gratification. It may be said incidentally that a bi cycle fancy dress parade is one of the cheapest things that can be planned for summer. The wheel costs noth ing, because one already owns it; and the fancy dresses are made up of the very cheapest material, for they are to be worn only once. The jewels which the heiress of the season wears may be largely rhinestones and big ornamental paste, loaned by all his friends, and the very elegant ornaments worn by ‘•the best catch of the season” are ga thered together by him in the same way. The object is to get up some thing very pretty. To make the parade more interest ing there is a prize given to the one who has the handsomest costume, per haps it is the most correct one histor ically, or it may be the most beautiful one, or the prize may be given to the mcst graceful rider. There is some ideal set when the invitations are sent out and all try for it. After the bicy cle parade there is tea upon the lawn, and the day ends so happily that you wonder that no one ever had the good sense to think of it before. HARRY GERMAINE. COULDN'T KEEP UP WITH ’EM. A Georgia man was arraigned for beating his wife. “What have you to say for yourself?” asked the Judge. “Kiu I speak out. Jedge?" "Yes. What have you to say?" 1 “Jedge. ver Honor. I want to say jest this: 1 never did have no trouble with I none er my wives, 'cept this one. My fust wife was an angel my second came mighty nigh bein' one. my third wuz willin’ an' reasonable, my fo’th wuz moderate, my—” “In the name of goodness." inter rupted the Judge, "how many wives have you had?" The man looked thoughtful and then said: “Jedge. I don't know. I use ter keep track of Vm. but 1 quit countin’ after Lee's surrender!”—Atlanta Constitu tion. -o FINESSE. “How in the world did you get Old Curmudgeon's consent to wed his daughter?" “Finesse, me boy. finesse. I told all around that he caught seventeen four-peund bass on that last fishmg expedition cf his."—Detroit Free Press. “Pa. who was Shvlock?" “Great goodness, boy! You attend church and Sunday school every week and don't know who Shylock was?” cried his father, with a look of surprise | and horror. "Go and read your Bible, sir.” -o m **ch ^ » * ijiii r m NEWPORT'S FANCY DRESS DICYCLE PARADE AS IT WILL_SWEEP DOWN BELLEVUE AVENUE^ (Modeled after the Loug Branch Fancy Dreea Parade.) A. H. Hummel Describes Her So Accu rately That All Girls Can Become His “Ideals”—Must Understand the Art of Flirting. Intelligent, But Not Too Much So; Sharp, But Not Too Pointed; and Mu6t Ee Good Tempered—Tesla’s j “Affection Testers.” It isn't fair to ask a business man his ideal of a summer girl; for the chances are that he must take her as he finds her, for he hasn’t time to look her up. But as for me, since you ask me point blank by ideal conception of the Goddess of Summer, I say that, though her name is Legion (for I like all girls and all women). I still have my ideals ; to which I cling, and which I discover j when I can. My ideal summer girl is beautiful. Now* I can’t ask for a perfect concep tion of beauty, an Idealized goddess j with features as If chiseled from mar ble and a form like that of Diana. But by beautiful I mean one who looks beautiful; and in this I must include the “handsome is as handsome does” Idea. My ideal summer girl is good tem pered. Deliver me from a woman who ; Is quarrelsome on a hot day. Such I time to settle up conclusions, I must say that I am a conventional man. No man more fond of law and order than I. Anarchy, incendiarism, blood and booty find no answering chord in my nature. It*l6'fhts^iMr love df law and order that has led my professional footsteps to where they are. I hate distress and disturbance; and I hold that the men of my profession do more to allay it than any other profession under the sun. This may teem as aside, but it is not. It is an argument to emphasize my re mark that I lil^e conventional people, and particularly conventional women. It will often happen that, in their aim to become “ideal summer girls," young women will throw aside the appearance of conventionality and act as our grandmothers would call hoitv toitv, but for such there is never the answer ing charm of admiration at least not so far as I am concerned. Better Miss Prude than Miss Don t-Care, for I can laugh at the former, but there is only pity for the latter. My summer girl, my true ideal, un derstands a dolce far niente. She can lie in an easy chair upon the piazza by the hour and smile and smile. She can toy with a book, or doze off, if I am reading, yet be e^er awake and read} to laugh when the laugh is called for. 1 like an indolent rummer girl. One who has possibilities, nut is content to let them go—sometimes. 1 like a rest ful girl. 1 like a soothing girl. I have heard, yes, and seen, Diana the Huntress—the athletic summer girl. I have beheld Psyche. I know' all about Juno, for she has posed for me —and the rest of the piazzaful of peo I CHE ENJOYS A DOLCE FAR NIENTE-LOVES TO DO NOTH _1NG SWEETLY.____ women should be transported to the South Sea Isles, where they place a bad tempered woman upon an Island bv herself and let her nght it out with j the dolphins. Or, if a nearer expedi ent Is sought, she could be taken to Ocean Grove and set down in the audi torium tot a course of sermons and lectures. The ideal summer woman is as unruffled as a summer breeze and as calm as the moon when it shines [ like a pearl over a silver heaven. As my ideal summer woman is more than a creature of mere form. I must speak of her attainments. I like her to be intelligent, yet not too much so. I like her to be informed, yet^not posted to the point of argument. I like her to have ideas, yet not too original ones. I like her to think new thoughts and do new things, but by no means those out of the conventional run. When all is said and done, and it le I nle 1 can recall Minerva ana ner ever lasting book and her tiresome ques ! tions—looking -always for information. But as for me, give me the restful girl. The girl who doesn’t ask you to chase a ball over a netting, who doesnt thorn you Into taking a mountain ! tramp, who is willing that you should let the wheels in your bicycle recuper ate together; the girl who lsn . a - ways planning a trip somewhere. A young woman once said to me: “Mr. Hummel, I know why you like i your sister better than other girls, it i is because she lets you alone. Maybe she was right. I am not go ; ing to say. But I will remark that It would be extremely dangerous to my I peace of mind if I were to find another girl I enjoy as well as I do my sister. That girl would have to take the name of Hummel, or Hummel himself would have to go away and learn the little ' I’ " £ song about “Forgive and Forget, My Darling.” But such girls are scarce. Have I never seen them? Yes, hundreds of i them. But, by the worst fate that | ever overtook a man. some one else had seen them first—and so ’twere j l useless. My ideal summer girl is dainty in her 1 dress. She isn’t elaborate. Mo man admires frills and fuss. But she is i dainty. That is the only way to ex press It. If she wears a ribbon, it is. oh so fresh! If she attired In that lady’s favorite, a shirt waist, it is, oh, so spotless and smart! If she wears a. sun hat it is tipped at exactly the right angle, and her boots are poems at which I would gaze In delicate ad miration. The dress of the summer girl is something upon which a man grows eloquent in thought. And every man thinks the same about it, at least every man whose soul aspires to know and be known in summer girl dom. Chauncey M. Depew once said good thing* about the summer girl. It is so good that it is no harm to uso it , again and to think of it often. J “My summer girl," he said, "hasn’t a great deal of brains. She doesn’t need them. I have enough for myself and her, too. She hasn’t much mon ey. She doesn't want it. 1 can earn 1 enough for us both. But—she is fond I of me." I I think It was Tesla who recived a i letter asking if such a thing as an affection tester could be added to the brain cameras now in use, and if Mr. Tesla would send the first one C. 0. , D. to the named address. If there were such a thing as an “af fection tester" I should purchase one. for the summer girl who is heartless and who plays with a man for chafT. leading him into prettiness only to make fun of him afterwards, is a crea ture who is not worthy the name of summer girl—the name which is a synoym of all that is sweet and lovely in summertide. You ask for a description cf my summer girl—in one word. Then I should say it is—grace. For in that little monosyllable is summed up char acteristics, not only of the body, but of the mind and heart as well—grace! And did I add that the summer girl ought to know how to flirt? Perhaps I forgot to mention it—but she ought. j Marshall P. Wilder Tells How the St. Louis Beat the Campania On a Home Run—Five Hours From Nantucket Shoals to Dock-Mrs. Astor Waved Enthusiastically and Thomas Nelson Page Saw a Chapter for His New Novel. “Thank God, It Was an Ameri can Done It!" I wish to say. to begin with, that this is no race! The steamship companies expressly forbid racing, the captains are down cn it, and Old Ocean has never countenanced the laying of a race cjurse over Its surface. But all the same, when we of the St. Louis went to bunk Thursday night we knew there was something in the air. ; And that the "something ’ was a great I Cunarder coming up behind us »e j i knew not when or where! On the great race tracks a jockey , dees his best from start to finish, as long as he knows there are others be ' hind him. But on the ocean it is not a race unless you can see the rival ship i bearing down upon you—and you are trying to beat it. But we knew it was coming. It was a short night s sleep we put in Thursday night. The last night aboard 1 ship! Everybody knows how it is! There is packing to do (with all sorts j cf tunning tricks to deceive the Custom l House officials—tricks by the way, that never deceive them at all). And there are good-bys to be said, bands to be shaken again and agata. Last words ! spoken once more, ar.4 all that fool i iahness gone over and over again—■ as every one knows aboardsbip. And ! when at last we lay down it was tor • what they call in Holland "a snooze.1' 1 only a doze, and nothing more. ( At 4 Friday morning we were ail out * on deck. It was grey aud misty, black ycu would have called the ocean, and | the sky murky in the dim, thick glow j of the before-sunrise-tea. We are bound for port—for. home! : Yet. strange to say, non? of u*. locking towards America's sh But backward! Had we all turn “blarr ^d Erelish" that we coul leave England's jubilatk shore* out rogret? No, it was som more. The captain voiced it at last. ing through those wonderful glasses backward he saw something looming up black and w'hlte and red all at | once. "There she is!" he said quietly. At once every glass was levell-d that way. We could see nothing but a great gray mass on the horizon, as every stoker below knew, that It was the Campania steaming «p behind us, ana that we were "in" for an ocean race. You who have seen horse races and their quick rnd exciting denoument can have no idea of the slowness of an ocean race. It is like watching the minute and the hour hands of a watch as they separate at 12 o’clock. They draw apart, but unless life hangs upon i their movement you do not notice it. j And eo with the great Campania coming | up behind us. You had to hold your glasses a minute to your eyes before ' you could see her funnels. Then an other minute before you could distin-1 guish her bow. Next time you looked you could catch the first splash of her . foam as her sharp bow cut the waves. I But it was an hour before you could see the great tidal waves spreading back from her stern as she scattered the waters on each side of her. "'Meanwhile all was excitement on beard the St. Louis. "It’s a race." ex plained one of the passengers (and a very distinguished one at that.) "It’s a race divided into four parts. The first quarter is where you're get ting ready to sight the ship. 'I he sec ond is when you see her and begin ning to put on extra coal. The third is when you’re coming up to Fire Island and the home stretch is the thirl.--erne miles from Fire Island to the lightship. Now' get ready to cheer for we’ve got to beat her. But the Cunarder was drawing near er! It was plain that she was trying to beat us. Her great bow became clearer and clearer and for a few sec onds it seemed to us as though she were going to luugh at us on the home race. “That’s nothing. Don’t be scared, called out an experienced old ocean traveller. “The sun has lifted and that brings her closer. She isn’t gaining much on us ” Meanwhile the captain, gallant Capt. Randle, was hurrying hither and thither. His orders were not to keep steam up. but to keep steam off. To stop coaling, not to coal up. But how are you going to restrain a whole ship ful of would-be stokers and five hun dred pleasure-seeking souls? I verily do believe if the good captain had given orders to reverse the engines and put out the fires he would have been seised and put in chains right in sight of land as Columbus wan In that eventful voy age of his four hundr d yenra ago. But the captain knew better than to go beyond his power. Instead of fruit lessly waving his hands and shouting he bore himself in a dignified, even beaming, way. and sTme one whispered that the captain would not cry were we to win the race! Ah, Captain! But the Cunarder was gaining on ua. We could all see that. “What’s the matter?" called out some one. “We’ve got to stop to take up a pilot, explained the experienced traveller. “But I can tell you he II meet w uu ' quirk treatment if he doesn t hurry. But the pilot did hurry. He wa» brave pilot No. 7; and when he saw ua coming full head on he grasped tl.o situation and a rope and was ready for us. I have crossed the ocean twenty times but never in tho course of my travels have 1 seen so quick a landing- The pilot boat swung as near us as she dared, the St. Louis kept on all the speed she could, and whizz—zz* -splash —h—h-quick as a flash! The pilot was up the side of the ship and aboard! We had the Man at the Wheel. But In the second we lay alongside the pilot boat we lived an eternity of anguish. Suppose the pilot should take it in his head to deliberate. Suppose he should not understand! But there was no time for that! From out the port holes came twenty heads. And one composite voice yelled hurry!” It was the stokers imploring the pilot to waste no time. The Campania had to take up her pilot, of course. And Is here where all* lost. Her pilot wua taken off the same pilot boat as ours. Atnl it took time to turn around, change her course and come alongside the big Cttnarder. I he Cunardera meanwhile sweating ocean loam and lashing the waves wiin iheir impre< ationa! They say Thomas Lip ton. who gave $126,000 to the Queen s Jubilee fund, was aboard and Frederick Adams, of the British Embassy, and Edgorton Wlnthrop. If so, Ood help them! They suffered a thousand de feats in that brief minute of picking up me puui; But now we are coming to the light ' ship and there was Quarantine ahead ; of us and the Custom House. There could I** no more racing! With a few dexterous turns past the shoals of ti e harbo.. Pilot No. 7 carried us past the lightship, with the Campania two miles Id our stem, and we one and all ehout i ed a cheer! “Three cheers for Capt. Randle! cried one of the passengers. The Captain ruised- hia hand in pro test. , . "Three cheers for Walls, the chief engineer!" cried some one else. “I won’t cheer for him!' came back a chorus. “We all volunteered to go down and help the stokers, and he wouldn’t let us. He could have had at least a dozen millionaire atokers for the , asking!" Everybody laughed. Wall most of all. i ‘Three cheers for the 8t. I<ouls! cried the others. “Ye*, and three cheers for Uncle Ham!” cried we oil. for the spirr* of New York city were coming In sight aud we were ready for “Home, Sweet Home!” "Did you enjoy the race. Mr. Wilder?’’ asked a reported of me as 1 stepped ashore. "Yes I did.’’ said I, “and I think we all did, from Thomas Nelson Page, who I saw a chapter for his new book, to Mrs. Wm. Astor, who la a true blue. “As for me. I couldn’t help saying af I stepped into my cab. John L Sulli van expressed my sentiments four years ago—"Thank God. it was an American I done It!” I Merrily yours. | MARSHALL F. WILDER. X THRE2 CHEERS FOB CAPT SAMI’*