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DEAD ROSES.
Only a handful of scented dust:
They were roses once, they were sweet and
fair;
You must take their loveliness now on trust.
I wore them against my hair.
Roses your hands proudly bore
Through the crowded dancers, one summer
night;
You blushed as you bent with your pretty gif!;
Have you forgotten, quite?
Poor little flowers' It were easy now
To crush and scatter them down the wind;
But I think, wherever their dust may go
Their sweetness would stay behind'
And so I keep them, untouched, unchanged,
To smile and sigh ateyou wonder why*
Well, that is a woman’s way, you know—
They are good to reniemter by.
I like to remember how fair they wen
On that summer night when w e sat apart,
And your breath seemed caught in the eager
throbs
of your itassionate strong young heart.
What did you say to me ? Words more true
Than ever again your bps can say,
F> >r love and roses and life are new;
They are withered and dead to-day!
—Madaline 8. Biudoes.
ECHOES OP A BIG STRIKE.
Reminiscences of the Upheaval Among
the Southwestern Workmen.
From the New Y(rrk Times.
•‘I don’t hear any shooting to-night boys.”
The speaker was Maj. Joe Herrin, a man
who had both heard and had done a good
deal of shooting in his time. •
“The ‘angels’ are too busy to-night,” re
plied one of the “boys,” Supt. Fleming, of
the International anil Groat Northern rail
road.
“Don’t you hear ‘em yelling at the cows?”
added Supt. Jake Frey of the M. K. and T.
The railroaders occupied a special car that
was hung up for the night at Texarkana,
Tex. The correspondent who was with
them had heard a variety of noises without
knowing exactly what they meruit or how
they were made, and hail noticed numbers
of lights moving in an irregular maimer on
what seemed higher ground than the road
bed on which the special car restod. He had
asked no questions, howover, for it’s highly
in Texas to allow any one to sup-
don’t know the yell of a cowboy
MpUm you hear it. Once heard it’s not likely
Wk mistaken for anything else.
|KmB" cowboy is one of the ornaments of
Quiet and peaceably disused
may acknowledge to themselves, but
most secret manner, of course, that
could well be dispensed with;
are careful that such a thought
Mid not be attributed to them, at least not
until they have looked tbeir last upon Tex
arkana. The town is a sort of round-up for
them, and during the cattle season they 1111
the night air with yells that no animal but a
Texas steer could hear long and live. The
cowboys are useful to the cattlemen and to
persons who sell spirits, and where they
gather there is likely to be some excitement.
But on this particular night they had their
hands full, and made the fact manifest by
HHfing through the darkness, a lantern iii
like .so many will-o’-the-wisps,
Hydling like thoroughbred Comnnches.
night, was warm, and the occupants
special car sat on the the broad plat-
HB at the rear, for the car was built for
puqioses. For a time the rail
- talked of matters purely railroad,
tegan to drift into reminiscences.
'* tT is time last year,” said Maj. Herrin,
then doing his Seventeenth year of
most of them as Huperintend-
Texas, “we were in the middle of the
Strike.” (The railroad strike of 18.56
Southwest is always spoken of there
capital “G” and “H.”
V other railroaders nodded. Thev had
in it. Frey at Denison, Texas,
and other lHiintein Kansas; Fleming
]/>uis and along the line of the Iron
Maj. Hen-in made his headquar
iiiit *' Palestine during the strikes, though
to he found at all jioints on the In-
and Great Northern, from Pal -
:lM to Galveston, and from Kan Antonio
Worth. The strike had developed
characters in Missouri, nut
I'iidMfc of them lacked the wild Western fe
of many of the strikers in Kansas, A r-
and Texas. In Texas the strikers
owned the railroads for a time,
MtiLaiuch as he chafed against their rule,
ju Herrin was for several weeks power
■ 110 haii seen hard fighting, too. Dur-
Mjjtdjic war be had performed several secret
SI dangerous commissions under personal
and ions from Gen. Grant, and seventeen
sySthj under the torrid sun of Texas had
neither sapped his energy nor lessoned his
courage.
Day after day he would attempt to move
a train, having by tremendous personal ex
ertions obtained a crew who had promised
to stand by him. Day after day, when the
tug came, the crew surrendered to the mob.
Even the engineers began to dislike their
jobs, but they had not joined the strikers
and had not manifested a great deal of
sympathy for them either, except In indi
vidual cases. Herrin grew desperate, par
ticularly when ho discovered that the legal
counsel'of his road advised further delay in
the moving of trains. The railroader, who
knew that nis road was blocked with freight
except at competing points where his rivals
were getting all the business, tried to explain
the situation to the man of lu.w. The latter
Byrai>athized and attempted to soothe, but
wound up by again counseling delay. Then
the railroader slammed the lawyer’s office
door after advising him to visit the section
preferred by Phil Sheridan to Texas.
“I was boiling mad," said Herrin, "for the
longer those fellows were allowed to stop
traffic the harder they were to handle. 1
made up my mind to move a train. I got
the train made up, or ready for it, and had
men I could trust to get on board. Then I
hired Chris Rodgers. Chris was known at
Palestine and all over Texas as a bad man.
He could shoot quicker and faster than any
man in town. He was a handy man on such
an occasion. I told Chris what 1 wanted. I
told him just liow many men would bo on
the train and who they were. His orders
wore to allow none else on lioard. He was
to appear in the yard at a certain time. He
was on time, and his apjiearanco caught the
crowd’s eye mid gave it a start. He carried
a Winchester rifle slung across his arm, and
in his belt ho carried two revolvers. He wore
no coat.
“I didn't feel too certain of the engineer,
so I thought I would make matters sure.
When I was ready for him I jumped on the
cab and nodding mv head in the direction
of the mob, I said, 'They sav you’re afraid,
Bill.’ The blood rushed to nis face. Then
the color left his cheeks and ho became
white as cotton.
“ ‘We’ll sec,’ was all he said.
“Then I knew he’d drive his engine
through blood. He bail been afraid in Ills
heart, and that mob was enough to shake
any man’s neiwe. He knew a bullet might
skip through the cab at anv minute or that
his engine might be disabled without liis
knowledge, nut to be told to his face that
others had said he was afraid mid to have
others believe it. was worse to him than all
the chancre against him. Ho stood with his
.hand on the lever waiting for the signal and
paid no attention to the entreaties or threats
’ of the crowd. His fireman stood at liis side,
with no thought of leaving his post. I told
Chris to get on top of the train. His orders
w ere to allow none but the men pointed out
to him on board.
“As he climbod up, the crowd swarmed
about the train, many jumping on. One
good look at Rodgers and his outfit was
enough for all but one man. Ho stuck to
the train until he was given a minute to let
go. Then he dropped, swearing to come
back and kill Rodgers. We moved that
train, and it was a beginning.
“M hen Rodgers got back to the station
hs saw the innu who had threatened to kill
him walking m his direction and trailing a
Sm. Chris had him covered in a moment.
e didn’t tell him to throw up his hands,
but to reverse arms and march toward him.
Th” follow did so. When ho was within
reach Chris took the gun from him and then
nickel him out of the yard."
Not long afteward Rodgers was sot upon
dark night by six gcutlfemen, who ap
pearently wanted to explore the inside of
ti H t>fnre ho was aware of their in-
s-unlonn Bedsore was kaocktd from too
pavement into the street. As he lay there
lie emptied liis revolver at his assailants, mid
under the circumstances did remarkably
well, for he put bullets into four of them.
He was a shining member of the class
of men among whom “Jim” Court weight
was a bright, particular star.
The correspondent who listened to Maj.
Herrin’s story was introduced to Court
wright at Fort Worth. How many men
Court wright had killed up to that time was
not exactly known, as he did not carry a
notched stick, but contented himself during
times of peace with two revolvers. His re
putation, however, was sufficient to insure
nim a polite, if not cordial, greeting at the
hands of the New Yorker. Court wright, as
he appeared in 1880, might have been 35 or
45 years of age. His face was cleanly
shaven and unwrinkled, yet not youthful.
He was about medium height and slimly
built, but looked wiry. His eyas were his
most unprepossessing feature. They were
small, dark, and glittering. They were rest
less, too, and seemed anxious to look in
every direction at. once. It was commonly
l s'lie ved at Fort Worth that if Courtwright
had l>een armed with a Winchester instead
of a revolver when Harding and his gang
attacked the train he would have killed the
entire attacking force. As it was, he shot
three of them at a distance of 500 feet,
and through a culvert with a Colt’s revol
ver.
During the strike an attempt was made to
kidnap Courtwright and take him to Mexico
on a charge of having killed three men there.
One night, as he was passing a church, he
was fired at by a gang. He fell fiat on his
face, as if he had been killed. The bullets
had not touched him, and the ruse was in
tended to draw his assailants on. They re
fused to take the risk, however, and after
waiting a few minutes Courtwright jumped
to his feet and dashed around the church.
He found no one. His assailants had not
waited. Courtwright was a dead shot, and
until his death, recently, was a marshal at
Fort Worth. In the language of Maj. Her
rin, “He was a good man on yonr side, a
devil on the other.”
“You had no bones broken during the
strike, Major, had you?” Inquired Capt.
Frey.
“No,” replied the Major. “Had you?”
“I though one day,*' was the answer,”
that I had none left unbroken, but I was
mistaken. It happened on the first day we
moved a train at Parsons. We had a nice
lot to deal with there. Men with whom I
had always been friendly turned their backs
on me during the strike. It had soured them,
or they were afraid to be seen talking to a
railroad officials. Well, the freight kept
piling up on us, and our customers were in
bad humor. Business, there wasn’t any. The
whole town was standing around with its
hands in its pockets. The railroads and
their sympathizers tilled the yards and pa
raded the tracks. We hud tried several times
to move a train, but couldn’t make it. The
strikers would swarm on board and un
couple cars much quicker than we could put
them together. Word came one day that
an attempt would lie made at a certain time
to move trains all over the system.”
The others nodded. They had received
it too, and remembered the general riot
that betokened the breaking of the strike.
“Well,” continued Frey, “we buckled
down to work for the occasion. More than
once our engineers hadn’t shown as much
earnestness as was wanted, and for this at
tempt I picked outoneof our best men. We
got the train coupled. On top of each car
stood a man armed with a Winchester and
two revolvers. When all was ready for a
start I got into the cab and said to my en
gineer:
“ ‘Do you mean business, Bradley?’ He
wasn t liiuch of a talker. He said: ‘I do.’
“ ‘Will yourflreman go?’ I asked.
“ ‘He’ll go where I go,’ said Bradley.
“ ‘Then at a signal ho started. I remained
in the cab, as I wanted to be on hand for an
emergency if it happened. Our trains gen
erally slacked up at the stock yards, and the
strikers know it. They st< kkl there alongside
the tracks in hundreds. They intended to
make the first fight there by jumping on
and uncoupling. Bradley saw taeir move.
He pulled her open and ’we shot past the
mob at a 30-mile gait. But half a dozen of
them got aboard liy catching the side lad
ders. Bradley put on steam and we whiz
zed along. The train struck a down grade
and wo wore going like a blizzard, when,
looking ahead out of, the cab, I saw a spiked
rail. The strikei-s.had laid their plans to
ditch the train if we got past the stock
yards.
“I rang the alarm with all my might to
five our men on top a chance for their lives.
lie strikers who were clinging to the side
ladders knew what it meant. It was sure
death to hold on and pretty ceitain death to
let go, but they let go and flew in every di
rection. The men on top of the cars threw
their arms overboard and they jumped.
Bradley and his fireman and myself junqied
pretty close together. I thought I’d never
stop going, and when I lay still I was afraid
to stir for fear of pegging out on the spot.
But I was only bruised mid shaken, had no
bones broken. Bradley escaped too, but the
fireman had an arm broken in two places,
and one of the brakemen had an arm and a
log broken. The engine and cars were piled
30 feet high.”
“Any strikers killed?" inquired tha corre
spondent.
“Not one,” was the mournful reply. “But
that little attempt at wholesale immler,”
added Frey, “brought us relief. The strik
ers had gone to far, and in a few dajs eight
companies of soldiers were stationed at Par
sons. The strike was broken, and so were
the Knights of Labor.” T. B. F.
Another War Article.
From the Norristown Herald.
“I have here,” said a seedy-looking indi
vidual, placing his hat on the editor’s table
in the office of the Daily Annual and ilruw
fortli a formiable roll of manuscript, “a
true account of the battle of Shiloh—”
“Battle of whiehlof’ interrupted the edi
tor, with a puzzled expression.
“The battle of Shiloh,” said the visitor,
“written by an eye-witness.”
“Did the battle take place in this coun
try?” asked the editor, with an air of in
terest.
“In this country?” echoed the veteran.
“Stars and planets, man! Did you never
hear of the war for the Union!”
“Not a word. In which State was it
fought?”
“State?” howled the visitor. “State?
Why it was fought in more than a dozen
States.”
“Was it precipitated by tho Chicago
Anarchists?” queried the editor, flirting
over tho pages of the manuscript.
“Anarch—great universe, no! It was a
fratricidal struggle between the North and
South, anil your humble servant fought ail
through it. I was at the battle of Shiloh,
nnd nlso —. By the way. d’ye see this flat
tened bullet in this charm attached to my
watch chain? Well, that was shot into my
body at the battle of Shiloh. It pierced ray
breast and lodged against my spinal
column, whence it was removed only a year
ago by a decidedly delicate and dangerous
Surgical operation. All old soldiers carry
around a bullet as a niomcnto of wounds re
ceived in the bloodiest war of modern
times: but I rather think—”
“Say," suddenly broke in the editor, “as
the l Kittle of Shiloh has never lieen written
up for publication, I'll buy your manuscript.
I am willing to pay liberally to get a scoop
on my rivals in the matter of fresh news.”
And the editor shoved tilt' mnnucript into
n pigeon hole, handl'd the historian n chock
for #75 and resumed work on an editorial
entitled “The Iniquitious Interstate Com
merce Bill.”
The old soldier pocketed the check, gave
the editor a military salute and marched out
of the office with the slow and measured
step of a funernl procession.
An hour later he returned with the infor
mation that the bank on which the check
was drawn refused to cash the paper, as tho
editor had no funds there; but the editor
was conveniently out. and the clerk said he
had just started for Florida for the lieneflt
of his health and would not return for three
months.
The communion table from which George
Washington received the sacrament on the Sun
day before bis death Las just been restored to
i 'nri.c, Church, Alexandria,by MlssSulliestuait,
v.'Un leee vod It toun • rear relative hv taaiMSt.
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, MAY 15, 1887-TWELVE PAGES.
TEN DOLLARS A SHAVE.
Princely Fees Paid Some Lucky Bar
bers.
from the Neto Haven Union.
It is said that John C. Anderson pays $3O
a week to his favorite barber for his ser
vices. This tonsorial artist, who is a New
Yorker, and whose name, it appears, is not
known to any of the knights of the brush
and razor in this city, has attended to the
elimination of Mr. Anderson’s facial hirsute
for many years, and now makes three visits
each week to the Savin Rock residence of
the munificent millionaire, each visit net
ting him $lO. Although there are a few
men in this city whose wealth nearly
reaches the seven-figure point, an investiga
tion discloses the fact that, while they each
have a favorite barber, they do not pay such
a princely fee.
Every man, no matter whether he is rich
or poor, has his favorite barber who ho
fondly believes can shave him better than
any other tonsorial artist in the world.
A reporter dropped into a chair in a bar
ter shop situated in the business portion of
the city last evening for the purpose of ob
taining a shave, a luxury which he indulges
in annually. The loquacity of barbers is
proverbial, and in answer to numerous
questions propounded by the scribe, the
barter said:
“I have no doubt but what John C. An
derson does pay $lO a shave, and lain sorry
that I am not the barter who has the good
fortune to te patronized by him. .Such
sums as he pays are not the general rule,
although I have in my sixteen years’ career
received fees nearly as large, but I did not
receive them regularly. In 1873 I was
working in a barber shop that had as a
customer a man named Hayes, who re
sided in Brooklyn, but at that time had the
contract of building some sewers in this
city.
ONE MORNING A MESSENGER
came to the shop and asked for a barber to
go to Mr. Hayes’ room in the New Haven
House to shave, cut his hair and shampoo
him. I gathered my utensils and started,
after being told by my employer to get $3
for my work. I worked on him for nearly
an hour and a half, and when I had finished
he gave me a $lO bill, with instructions to
keep the change. That, was the largest fee
I ever obtained. Several yeai-s ago, while
running the shop in the Sterling House,
Bridgeport, I hail a number of good paying
customers, among whom was a gentleman
named Sandford. He spent most of his
time in New York, and would only visit me
about three times every month. He paid
every month, and would never give lass
than #lO for three shaves, and would often
pay as much as $3O. Withui few customers
like that a barber could retire from busi
ness in a short time.
“The largest fees that I have received in
this city of late have been 50 ami 75 cents,
and those were received from meiovho take
a special pride in having their hair and
beards look nice, and who want to have
both trimmed nearly every time they sit in
the chair. Of course I take special pains
with these men, for they pay me for so
doing, and I often work on their beards for
an horn-. I have a large number of such
customers, all of whom are business men.
“Among ray customers are many travel
ing agents for New York, Boston and
Springfield firms, who, when in this city,
always call to see me and have me to shave
them, or cut their hair. Some of these
drummers will not allow any other barter
to give them a hair cut, and I have known
one of them to wait four months until he
had a chance to visit me and have his hair
cut. I have heard it said that a wealthy
Bostonian visits this city twice a week to be
shaved by his favorite barter, but in my
opinion, and as far as I can learn, this is not
a fact. That storv, I think, originated from
the custom of some Boston drummer who,
when in this city on business, patronized
some local barter who he looked upon with
favor. Among my many such customers
when in the Sterling House barber shop, was
a man named Park, a drummer for a large
silk importing house in New York. He
always called on me when he wanted his
hair cut, and I telieve he would have alkwei 1
it to grow as long as a Comanche Indian’s
hair before he would have
LET ANYONE ELSE COT IT.
“A barber shop is a great school for any
person who wishes to become thoroughly
acquainted with human nature. Some of
my customers are very hard to please, and
some have curious ideas in regard to the
manner in which they wish to be shaved.
One of my customers does not consider
himself clean shaved unless I have gone
over his face with a razor about six times.
Another one likes to be shaved in peace
and will fly off in a towering passion if a
word is addressed to him from the time he
enters the shop. But the majority, if they
have any like failings, conceal them.
“There has, of late, been a great change
in the style of shaving. A few years ago it
was the rule to lather a person twice and
give a very close shave; now only one
lather is put on and we do not shave so
closely. There is a good reason for this
change. We noticed that shaving too
closely caused the beard to grow coarser
and to stick out like the hairs in a shoe
brush; it also caused it to become lighter
colored. Still I have many customers who
ask for a very close shave and imagine that
it is a very good thing to promote the
growth of the beard."
“I cannot tell you,” continued tho ton
sorial artist, “what the quickest shaving
time is. Quick shaves are called railroad
shaves by us. I have shaved a man in a
minute and a hall', • but of course I would
not call it a very fine job, and have given a
hair cut and shave in eight minutes. My
regular time in about ten minutes for shav
ing and twenty to twenty-five minutes for
a good hair cut, but when in a hurry I often
increase my speed, and do as good work in
less time.”
Tho reporter soon after visited another
shop, the proprietor of which was at leisure.
The conversation soon turned to the dif
ferent styles of dressing the hair and board.
“Many persons,” said the tonsorial artist,
“believe that the manner of dressing the
hair uml heal'd have remained tho same for
years; but this is not so, for many different
styles have been in vogue, most of which
were originated by Parisian barbers. In no
place on earth is more attention paid to
the fixing up of the hair and beard than in
Paris. The style in this country at present
is what is called the pompadour style.
IT WAS ORIGINATED IIY AN ACTOR
ilk the Theatre Francaise, named Brossant.
whose hair was naturally inclined to stand
on an end. I never saw anything to admire
in that style, unless it was* the fact that a
large amount of trouble in combing was
done away with, for all a person had to do
was run liis fingers through his hair every
morning and it was all right. This style is
a modification of the German student style.
“Hair parted ill the middle and combed
gracefully to either side is called tho Capou)
style, after the tenor of that name, who
was endowed by nature with hair that was
very nrtistic appearing. The dudes of Paris
have n style of dressing the hair which is an
improvement on the ‘hanged’ style of the
American dude. The hair of the Parisian
is dipped shorter at the top and combed
down on the forehead, and the hair on the
sides is allowed to remain longer than that
on top, and is combed forward over the
ears.
“In dressing tho lieanl there are many
handsome stylos. The Merovingian kings
were the first, to notice the improvement
made in the appearance of the face by
trimming the teard. Their style was tocut
tlie beard short on the sides arid let it grow
luxuriantly on the chin. Fronds I. inaug
urated anew style by letting the beard
grow long and parting it in the middle.
This was the first style that attained tho
permanent glory of a standard of taste, and
is a favorite to the present (lay ”
Senator Ktasfosh relate* il*j (.■ earned bis
first money when >; years old try sending to mar
ket a let * f horse radish wide*) grew In bis
tather's garden tun second venture, which he
declares use the most sis •. ssfnl |jnuullU<iti of
Ills life, vn* selling five hostels of i liestnnls
"bleb lie an* I Ills brother lad gathered for fam
ily use, for Sr,
The Prince of Wales L said to get almost os
mini'/ lefii'U' letters as i'lesidr-il Cleveland.
RAIDING THE SPOOKS.
A Muscular Ghost Attacks His Would
be Captor—Tho Spirits Run to Cover.
FVom the Boston Post.
Tho blow of exposure has fallen on another
materializing medium, the victim this time
being a Mrs. Fairchild, who holds seeances
at No. 35 East Chester Park. Mrs. Fair
child has been doing a thriving business in
Boston for some months. The recent raid
on Mrs. Ross’ establishment at 96 West Con
cord street is still fresh in the public mind,
and the little band of investigators, having
let the light into her cabinet, determined to
direct the rays of the same lantern into that
of Mi's. Fairchild. Yesterday afternoon a
reporter (ailed at the house at the appointed
hour for the sceance, and was met at the
door by a lady and gentleman, who, it
afterwards transpired, were Mrs. Fairchild
and a Mr. Sawyer.
“Are you a spiritualist?” asked the lady.
While the answer was not strictly in the af
firmative, it was evidently satisfactory, for
she replied: “Well, all I ask is that you will
do nothing to disturb the materialization.”
On being assum'd that nothing of the kind
would be done, the lady showed the visitor
to a seat in the parlor. The room is some
35 feet long by about 13 feet wide, and fronts
to the north. The floor is handsomely car
peted, and the walls are hung with pictures.
The cabinet is situate! in the rear of the
room, and is made of heavy curtains that
part in the middle. From this cabinet a
door opened into the back room as well as
the side entry, through one of which the
spirits evidently enter. The parlor was
dimly lighted by one gas jet, inclosed in a
glass globe, coated with dark paint. Just
before the seance began Mrs. Fairchild,
dressed in a Mother Hubbard gown of helio
trope-colored silk, stepped into the middle of
the room and appealed to the honor
of those present not to disturb i the
seance. The solitary gas jet was
turned still lower, so low in fact that only
the vague outlines of those in the room could
lie seen. The indispensable parlor organ
was called into requisition and struck up a
funeral air that was intended to add to the
solemnity of tho occasion. In a moment
the music ceased, and a voice that sounded
like the utterance of a plantation negro came
from the dark recesses of the cabinet. “Ise
Black Hawk, I is,” it said, and then was
silent. The organ groaned again with its
burden of sombre music, and again the al
leged spirit of Black Hawk made its presence
known. It is well that it announced itself,
for the nearest relative of Black Hawk never
would have recognized it; and if anything
would cause the famous Indian chief to ap
pear, this libel on his voice would do it. He
was satisfied, however, to be heard and not
seen. Another groan from the organ was
the cue from a pair of forms, robed, of
course, in the full dress of spirits, to appear
for a moment in front of the cabinet. They
soon vanished, and one, evidently a female
ghost, came out and stood at the en
trance of the cabinet. Mrs. Fairchild, who
was the medium, approached an old wliite
hairod gentleman and said; “She wants to
speak to you.” The old man rose and tot
tered to the white figure. A deathlike si
lence prevailed, in order to hear what they
said, if possible, but not a whisper could be
detected The bent form tottered back to
his seat. In the dim light a white handker
chief could be seen in the old man’s hand,
apparently wiping away the tears that had
been caused to flow by his supposed commu
nication with the dead.
More music, and the medium advanced to
the Mr. Sawyer above mentioned, who oc
cupied a seat next to that of the reporter.
“She wants you.” Mr. Sawyer slowly and
solemnly approached tho awful presence.
In a moment he returned to his seat, and,
leaning over, said to the reporter in a voice
that had more of a sigh than an articulate
sound in it: “That is my wife; she's been in
the spirit world four years.” The next per
son called was the old man that was first
favored. The spirit, which was that of a
woman, was evidently willing to do the
square thing, and as the aged believer "had
gone to it the,first time, it approached nim
and took a seat by his side, where'it re
mained in silence for a minute or two. The
spirits seemed to have some fears of the
strangers in the room, and Mr. Sawyer’s
presence was for the second time desired by
the ghost.
When he resumed his seat he said, with a
sigh: “That’s my niece; she’s been dead for
many years.” He went on: “Mrs. Fairchild
is a splendid medium, and calls the turn
every time.”
The moment had arrived for the begin
ning of the end. A lady named Mrs. Torrey,
who was in the audience, was summoned to
the cabinet by what appeared to be a female
form. Being possessed of more than ordi
nary courage, this lady seized the spirit
around the waist and held it firmly, calling
out: “Come on!” Hhe was mistaken in the
sex, for instead of a female spirit the “spook”
turned out to lie a muscular young
man of 16 or 17 years of age, at
tired in shirt, trousers and socks,
and enveloped in an old lace curtain. With
a quick movement he freed himself from
his would-be captor and struck her a vicious
blow on the side of, the head which nearly
threw her to the floor. Mi's. Torrey, how
ever, did not release her hold on the spectral
garments, and carried away nearly a yard
of the curtain material. Then the battle
began. The young man, finding himself
free, started out or the room and ran up
stairs. But this was not all. Out from the
cabinet there rushed another young man
and a girl, who followed with marvelous
rapidity tneir fellow “spook” up the stairs.
Meanwhile the audience began to get, in
some work. The lights were turned up, and
the blinds thrown open. The parlor became a
pretty lively place, for everybody seemed
to be yelling at the same time. One gentle
man followed the retreating spirits up stairs
mid saw them disappear in a room, tno door
of which was quickly bolted. He asked to
be admitted in order to further pursue the
ghosts, but Was told that there was a case
of typhoid fever in the room, and the
patient could not lie disturbed. Meanwhile
Mrs. Fairchild, who tips the scales at 300
pounds, was making “day” hideous down
stairs. She was beside herself with rage,
and declared that she liad been betrayed.
But by whom? No one seemed to know
anything about it. “It was a villainous out
rage,” she screamed, “to come into a
private house and disturb a private seance.”
“Yes it is,” chimed in the old man, who was
evidently a confederate. Mr. Sawyer, who
had seen both his wife nnd nieee, joined in
the tirade against the intruders who had
broken up the show and deprived the house
of aliout 830, which would have been col
lected if there been no disturbance. Mi's.
Fairchild even wont so far as to strike Mi's.
Ton y in the face, laying all the blame of
the exposure to her, and enforcing her
remarks by some pretty strong language.
Another confederate, whose name was not
learned, was pale with suppressed rage.
Canes flourished in the air, Mrs. Fairchild
raved, and Mr. Sawyer shook his fist and
apparently wanted to annihilate everybody.
Just as the war of words was over, and the
crowd was dispersing, a young man, said
to lie Mrs. Fairchild’s son, came down stairs
boiling over with anger. Ho wanted to put
everybody but of tho house forthwith, but
was dissuaded from carrying out his in
hospitable plan. Ho is supposed to
bo “Black Hawk,” and tno rude
spirit that Min. Torrey caught. The
necessity of changing his dress caused
his .delay in appearing on tho
scene of notion till after tho tattle was over.
After the assembly had dispersed, one of the
party touched the lighted end of a cigar to
the captured robe, to see whether it was
earthly or spiritual. He was soon satisfied,
for the cigar burned a hole in it. The doors
of the Fairchild mansion were locked ns the
company passed out, and the place was soon
ns quiet ns the grave that ought to have
tsH'ii fho resting place of those Sunday
desecrating spirits. Last evening another
"sjiook factory,” as they call them, was
visit'd by a few determined investigators,
but tho wary doorkeeper refused them ad
mittance.
i I.EHK sn.vKßsTosK—Mbther Schaumburg, in
der future I vents you to dreat mu mil more
IsilltoiioMKaa and eoiisiderashuns.
Hosa Hchaumburg diidigiiaiitly)—-You vnnt
more bolltenemes, eh? You tarn tool, you ttnks
1 pays you tervelve to liars n veok to make
inaoue* on you, eh?-7>iea* siflinos.
EARTHQUAKES.
Those of the Wild West Do Less Dam
age Than Those of the Effete East.
From the New York Sun.
The earthquake superiority of the Pacific
coast, threatened with eclipse by the per
formances of the Charleston earthquake,
is again assured. The new earthquake dis
trict has won no very enviable distinction;
but as it is a distinction that can be more
cheaply carried where population is sparse,
it is well that the West should have the
honor. If the crust of the continent will
do all its settling in the Territories for a
few years to come, and hide all attendant
pyrotechnic displays in their mountain fast
nesses, the ola settlements will make no
complaint.
But the performances of the far West in
the way of earthquakes are by no means re
markable. We have heard a great deal
about them, and perhaps had population
been more dense in that section the record
might occasionally have received a more
tragic emphasis. But the earthquakes of the
Pacific coast have really accomplished very
little during the period of recorded historical
events; and when we come to look up their
record we are compelled to admit, with a
feeling of some disappointment, that they
are no great shakes after all.
In the first place we find that between the
year 1769, when the first missionaries began
o penetrate into the region now known as
California, and the year 1800, there is no men
tion made of any earthquake whatever, not
even so much as a tremor. This is some
what remarkable, since earthquakes, even
of the mildest manners, are apt to make a
record for themselves wherever they go.
We are bound to conclude, therefore, that
during the first thirty years of Pacific coast
history either the good fathers or the earth
must nave slept very profoundly. Proba
bilities favor the notion that the profound
sleeper must have been the earth.
But after the year 1800 there seems to have
been an awakening. The earth became per
turbed. An unquiet spirit seemed to lie
moving from its centre to its circumference,
and tins spirit began finally to materialize
itself in surface manifestations. The mission
houses of Southern California began to rest
unsteadily on their foundations. At last, in
the year 1813, the mission church of San
Juan Capistrano, in Los Angeles county,
came tumbling down on the heads of a large
number of the worshiping congregation, and
many persons were killed. At the same mo
ment, or as soon thereafter as an earthquake
could reach a point 100 miles distant, the
mission church of Purissima, in Santa Bar
bara county, shared the same fate, and with
precisely similar consequences. Timing its
movements to these events, the sea
also, in the neighborhood, retreated far out
from its shores, and, having gathered force,
it returned in a roaring succession of great
waves that went thundering inland until
they broke down against the impregnable
hills. This finished the manifestations for a
time, or at least seems to have so far broken
the back of the subterranean demon, that
he had no strength left to produce anything
more startling than an occasional shake,
which, from its feebleness, could Ik? product
ive of no greater disaster than a panic.
Down to the year 1850, although there were
unquestionably shakes, at intervals not too
long to be remembered, nothing of sufficient
importance occurred to take a place in gen
eral history. The manifestations of un
steadiness in the globe were only sufficiently
violent to keep alive a scientific interest in
the subject.
Knee 1850 a close record has been kept,
ana we know precisely how many times
California has teen shaken, in whole or in
part, and, while it must be admitted that
the occasions have been frequent enough to
give the San Francisco Academy of Science
an apparently endless theme for discussion,
and to make the institution seem like an
articulate seismoneter, it cauiiot be said that
much harm has been done. In the year 1850
there were five shocks; in the year 1851 six,
one of which was severe enough to break
windows, throw down merchandise, and
cause the ships in tho harbor of San Fran
cisco to roll heavily. In 1853, a year not
distinguished for the number of shocks, there
was one manifestation of sufficient vio
lence to open a mud volcano in the Colorado
Desert. In 1853 the number of shocks
reached a total of fifteen, and some of the
number were severe. The year 1854 gave*a
total of 13; 1855, 11; 18.56, 14; 1857, 17; 1858.
8; 1859, same number, and 1860, a total of
only 3. One of these shocks, however, was
severe enough to ring church bolls. Only
one shock startled California in 1861, and
the succeeding two years gave an experi
ence of only two and five respectively. This
is -a fair illustration of the frequency of
California earthquake shocks in these lat
ter years, and while it will be seen that they
come often enough to interfere with the
popularity of elevator buildings, they are
not by any means continuous, nor violent
enough to overcome tne attractions of aline
climate for persons desirous of settling.
But earthquakes are a source of consider
able entertainment in California. On Sept.
4, in the year 1866, a party were camping
on the Kern river, in the central portion of
tho Sierra Nevada mountains. They had
been disturbed a great deal during tho night
by subterranean noises, but this was not
thought a serious cause for uneasiness. At
8 o’clock in the morning, however, thoro
came the crisis. The subterranean mutter
ings swelled into a roar, tall trees were
swayed to and fro as though about to be
prostrated, and large boulders were sent
tumbling down the sides of the cliffs in
threatening proximity to their encampment.
They were obliged to decamp speedily and
seek more open ground, stimulated in their
movements by a succession of shocks—fortv
one in the first hour by actual count. The
disturbances continued up to the morning
of Kept. 6, and at that tune the sportsmen
had counted 500 shocks.
All parts of the Pacific coast seem to offer
very good fields for the study of seismic
phenomena if a student is desirous of ob
taining his facts by actual observation. Is
anotsky Pass, in the Aleutian Islands, was
once navigable. It is not navigable now,
and the Captain who discovered that an
eartlicpiake had teen putting its antic
disposition on in the neighborhood nearly
lost his schooner in making the discovery.
Thanks to the fact that America is be
lieved to have teen the first continent up in
the early morning of creation, we have rea
son to hope that the more violent disturb
ances of the eastern hemisphere will never
tie paralleled on this side of the globe.
We are furthest on the road to want an equi
librium.
WHY THEY PASTED.
Reasons Which Induced a Hundred
Frenchmen to Abstain From Meat.
/Void the Pull Hall Gazette.
A reporter of the Paris has taken the
trouble to question a numbor—a hundred,
he says—of Parisians of the male sox who
abstained from moat on Good Friday as to
the motive of this deviation from their
usual practice. Several of them replied
that they did so in deference to old custom
and because they saw most people around
them doing so. ‘ Nota few declared they ab
stained from choice, as they really enjoyed
a (lsh dinner onco in a way." Four ate i Isti to
please their wives, four because their moth
ers asked them to do so, and one because
lie know it would make a good impression
on the mother of a young lady whom ho
hoped to marry. Three answered that they
left their dinner menu entirely to the cook,
and that she had sent up Homing but tisli.
Two of the number were strict vegetarians.
A young clubman owned that he fastest
simply liecause it was "chic.” In only two
cases was there any acknowledgment of a
religious motive. One man answered, “be
cause l am n Catholic,” and another, while
admitting that he novel - put foot inside a
church by any dianee, stated that ho was
"haunted by a remnant of belief” which
indisposed him to a meat dinner on Good
Friday.
Thk Emperor of Japan |s dark and his fea
tures are heavy and irregular, hut there Is much
digulty and majesty in his carriage. His uniform
is handsome, the white cloth trousers having
broad stripes of gold chrj saiitheuiuins. and the
black coat being almost covered with em
broidery in obryi'inthcniume.
THE LATEST BRIDGE-JUMPER.
Bill Nye Makes the Acquaintance of
the Triple Somersault Youth.
From the New York World.
One of the chief advantages of a residence
in New York is the wonderful opportunity
thus afforded in seeing the celebrated men
of our day. Professionally or otherwise,
most of them are sure to visit here, even
if they do not have a residence in New
York.
Emanuel Defrietas, ‘‘The Boy That Cone
the Triple Somersault Off the Brooklyn
Bridge.” as he states in his advertisment.
has been visible the past week on the second
floor of a Bowery musenm, where the plain
people could feast their eyes on him at 10c.
per feast.
Mr. Defrietas occupies a common wooden
chair coverod wi th cretonne, or a raised dais
on the thumb-hand side of the room. Back
of him the wall is decorated with a scene in
some foreign country, I presume, as the
trees and water are different from anything
I have ever seen in America. In the left
foreground there is a large water-wheel that
looks as though it wouldlike to revolve if the
water could be limbered up a little. It is a
good water-wheel, with no visible means of
support, and the water has a far-off look.
On the right, in the foreground, is a repre
sentation of a boat moored to a hitchmg
post, but Ido not think it would go away
even if it had not been tied. This boat rests
on a bay with water in it. This water comes
out of the bay, turns a sharp corner and
climbs up tho water-wheel, when it catches
a good view of the country. I wish that
more people who love art could go and see
this picture'. No one who has closely studied
nature could fail to enjoy a view of it. The
artist certainly has not plagiarized anybody,
especially nature.
Here, surrounded by total strangers from
10 a. m. till 10 p. m., Sir. Defrietas remains
visible to the naked eye, now and then
speaking a kind and encouraging word to
some unknown man, or greeting with a
smile those who desire his autograph.
Emanuel Defrietas was born in Halifax,
N. S., and, though he had nothing but a
common school education, succeeded in fall
ing from the bridge in such a way as to
strike on his head, thus preventing any pos
sibility of injury. The rise and fall of Mr.
Defrietas should convince us all that a col
legiate education is not absolutely necessary
in order to succeed. It is moro perhaps a
close study of the wants and needs of our
people with a firm resolution to meet those
wants and needs that have made Mr. Defrie
tas thus prominent.
But he has not yet reached the height to
which he may yet attain. Innumerable pos
sibilities loom up ahead of him. He has al
ways been careful to avoid antagonizing any
political wing or faction in the country, and
so, with his groat personal popularity
brought about by his earnest desire to
please, he stands a good show to be nomina
ed in 1888. Always very shy about express
ing any opinion whatever, yet possessing
a faculty for impressing you with the idea
that he agrees with you heartily though he
does not really say so, there is absolutely
nothing whatever in the way of his nomina
tion asido from his age and the fact that he
is not a native born American citizen.
Through Mr. Defrietas does not have to
work any more, he does not feel himself
above those who toil. He conversed freely
with the writer, whom he succeeded in plac
ing at once at his ease.
He is below the medium height and is but
19 years of age. His manner while on the
stage is rather engaging, and he does not
chew so much flat tobaicco as the Albino.
Mr. Defrietas cannot remember when he
first felt a desire to fall from a great height.
People tell him that w-hen he was only a
year old he fell down stairs, striking on his
head, which has always possessed great elas
ticity. He says that when he can land on
his head, no matter from what height he
may - fall, he feels perfectly safe.
Emanuel holds a reception every hour, but
as he does not have to swallow a sword or
write his autograph with his toes, the brain
fag, which is so often incident to museum
life, is spared him, and he comes forth at
night fresh and in good spirits.
He says that many people consider his
pudden popularity ephemeral and extremely
transitory, and believe that it was more the
result of luck than of mature thought and
deliberation, but such is not the case. He
has fitted himself for the position he now oc
cupies before the people, and that is the rea
son he so soon obtained recognition and the
indorsment of the museum.
He wili eontinue on exhibition for one
more week, when it is to be hoped that he
will write a book. A small, rod autobio
graphy-, prepared by Mr. Defrietas, it is
thought, would be greedily snapped up by
the American people and give anew inqietus
to the now flagging somersault industry,
Bill Nye.
A Ticket-of-Leave Baronet.
Fi ain the London New.
Not so long ago a thin, little old gentle
man, with clean-shaven lace and closely
buttoned, thread-bare frock coat, was to be
observed, be the weather wet or fine, in the
neighborhood of the Stock Exchange. Who
he was or where he came from no one knew,
for the simple reason that he belonged to a
past generation, and was in the heyday of
his youth and good fortune when the present
race of our young men were reposing in
cradles or imbibing the contents of pap Trot
ties. He was always smiling and cheerful,
and only too happy" to take lunch with any
one generous enough to "stand” a square
meal. He never appeared to do anything
in particular, but, m a quiet way, he con
tinued to make a little money now "and again
by giving "tips” concerning probable fluct
uations in the financial market. Where he
obtained his information was a mystery, but
his advice generally turned out correct and
his reward took tile shajie of a few shillings
or a pound or two, according to the magni
tude of the transaction he hail been indirect
ly instrumental in bringing to a satisfactory
conclusion.
That this city celebrity, who by the bye,
was familiarly known as “Mr. Clifford,”
was exceedingly poor, there could be no
matter of doubt, aud this supposition was
fully confirmed at his death, which took
place in a miserable, unfurnished attic sit
uated in a squalid neighborhood in the East
End. Yet this man was no other than Sir
Clifford who, at one time, was one of
the “bucks" of the metropolis. His down
fall w as occasioned by his killing a man in a
drunken brawl, for which indiscretion he
suffered iienal servitude. After (Kissing a
good many years in one of her majesty’s
prisons he obtained a ticket-of-leave, but his
friends refused to have anything to do with
him, and the host of boon companions who
had helped to spend his money in former
days were either dead or had forgotten him.
Thus it came to pass tliat he gradually sank
lower and lower, until he reached that con
dition of impecunious respectability known
as “shabby genteel.”
What Is the Social Status of a Bull
Fighter ?
From, the at. James Gazette.
Can a bull fighter claim to Vie considered
a gentleman.' This imixirtant question has
lie n warmly discussed in .Madrid society
during the past fortnight, a challenge sent
by Mazzantrii, the famous torero, to a jour
nalist wno had, ns he conceived, written in
sultingly about him. having brought it on
the tapis. The challenge took Madrid by
surprise, no member of Mazzaiitinis profes
sion having ever been known to claim rep
aration for an affront at tlie sword’s point
before. Nevertheless, he had no difficulty
in obtaining the services of two members of
the Veloz Club to convey lii.s demand for
satisfaction to the offending journalist, who,
however, refused to entertain it, sheltering
himself under an ancient statute which ex
pressly forbids the subjects of Ids Catholic
Majesty to cross swords with “actors or bull
slayers.”
flazzant.ini and his friends declined to ac
cept this answer, the newspapers took the
matter up, and a hot controversy ensued.
The question has not I icon settled one way
or the other, though the difference that
raised it has been amicably adjusted.
Mahsijam. I’. Wii.pkr, the humorist, and Cnpt.
A. K. Williams, o f the New York police, never
drink imvtiiiiijr intoxicating.
A LIVE MAN’S TOMB.
He Erects a Monument to Perpetuate
His Memory and Inscribes the Shaft.
From the New York Evening Sun
Mr. Lewis Masquerier, and eccentric and
wealthy nonogenarian, who has resided i
Greenpoint for the past forty years h
after fourteen years of labor,
tomb in Cypress Hills Cemetery which k
intends shall perpetuate his memorv u
a receptacle for his remains. From th
oddity of its construction and the peculiarity
of the inscriptions engraved upon the lid™
it has become an object of much curiositvul
those visiting that city of the dead It k ?
plain obelisk of Quincy granite, 16 feet hick
with four equal sides, which taper gradual!
from the base to the cap. It is surmounted
yvith a bronze representation of Bartholdrt
statue of Liberty. The statue, instead o?
bearing a torch, holds a globe in its uplifted
hand, upon the surface of which the divis
ions of the earth, according to the designer’*
notions, have been traced. • 6 *
Mr. Masquerier entertains some peculiar
ideas of government. He has indicated th
manner in which he believes the world should
be'divided upon this globe. He says that
Bartholdi’s statue is only to light ships into
New York harbor, but his is to enlighten th
whole world.
The shaft of the monument ;is formed of
three blocks of polished granite. The side*
are covered with inscriptions setting forth
the views of the designer. On one side of
the shaft Mr. Masquerier has had engraved
a declaration of his principles. Another sida
is dedicated to his memory, with a blank
space to be tilled in when he dies. Each in
scription has a caption or head line cut in
gothic letters an inch long. Among some
of these are: “Rights of Man,” “Wronc*
of Man,” “Remedy,” “Plans of the Divisicm
of the World into States, Townships, and
Farmsteads,” “Education of Children ”
“Legislation,” “Landlordism,” “True Lib
erty,” and -‘Happiness.” Mr. Masquerier
has also had engraved on the shaft a scheme
of his phonetic alphabet, which by the use
of eleven elementary characters he says may
be made to embrace all the sounds of the
hiunan voice. The engraving or lettering
covers a space 54 square feet, and can be read
with ease.
Mr. Masquerier was born in Paris, Bour
bon county, Ky. He is a printer by occu
pation, and for a time practiced law. He
edited the first newspaper published in
Greenpoint. It was called the Gazette.
When he came to Greenpoint, forty years
ago, he says there were not more than a half
dozen houses in the place. Owing to partial
blindness for the past twenty years, he has
been unable to follow his accustomed avoca
tions. He is the author of a work on socio
logy. which he published in 1877. It is oc
tavo in form and contains 300 pages. In it
he has fully set forth his views on the ques
tion of the reconstruction of society, and has
also given an eloborate scheme of his phone
tic system, by which means, he claims, a
person may be taught to read with one-half
less labor than that of any system in use at
the present day. In the introduction to his
book he says:
“The earth should be laid out into sections
comprising all land lying between the even
numbered degrees of latitude and longitude,
and these should be sub-divided into town
ships six miles square, which should again
be divided so as to give to each person the
proportion he is entitled to; ten acre to be
the minimum or least unanitity of ground
allotted, as that is the smallest number of
acres on which a family can exist. Each of
these homes, with the dwellings, bams,
shops, and surrounding gardens, fields, and
orchards, will combine farm, village and
park into one, and make a rural city of the
whole earth.”
Before losing his eyesight, Mr. Masquerier
delivered several lectures on sociology in
various cities. He said to a reporter that ha
was in search of a man who entertained
views similar to his own. If successful in
finding one, he said he would bequeath to
him his entire property for the purpose of
propagating his ideas and reproducing his
book. He admits that his views are in ad
vance of the times, but firmly believes that
they will yet be put into practice.
The monument is situated in plot 516, sec
tion 9, near Locust Grove. It will be inau
gurated on the first Sunday in June, when a
large number of land reformers will be pres
eflt.
GENTLENESS.
How the Man Who Looked for His
Penny Was Carried Past His Street.
From Tid-Bits.
“You dropped a copper in the straw,”
said a horse car conductor to a pompous
looking old gentleman the other day.
“Dropped what?” asked the bereft pas
senger.
„ “A copper. I saw it fall.”
“Oh, well,” was the indifferent reply, “1
guess a copper will neither make nor break
me, still—”
He began poking around in the straw with
his cane.
“It glanced off to the left,” said the con
ducter, stooping over and stirring the straw
with his hand.
“Oh, it’s of no consequence at all,” said
the loser, “a copper is nothing; however,
one might as well —” he dropped down on
one knee and stirred the straw carefully.
He turned and crawled back toward his
scat, plowing up the straw with both hands.
“Oh, well,” he said, as he peered as far as he
could under the skirts of a lady who had sat
next him, “a copper is but a trifle after all;
still I—would you mind moving over a little,
madam? It might have fallen here, you
know; sorry to trouble for such a trifle, but
then ”
He marie the straw fly for about five min
utes, then he rose slowly and sadly to his
feet, stirred around with his cane and finally
sat down, saying:
“It is of no consequence, not the least.
Let it go. A copper is—ah, there it is!”
He bounded half the length of the carand
grabbed up a handful of straw in which
there was —a brass tobacco tag.
The joyous light died out of nis eyes. lie
sank back in his seat dejectedly; but he tried
to grin and again said: „
“It is of no consequence, not the least.
“Fifty-ninth street,” cried the conductor.
“Great Scott!” shouted the copperle®
man, “I ought to have got off a mile bacK
here. Here, let me off.”
PICTURES FOR THE POOR.
An Artist Who Turns Out Half a Mile
of Paintings a Day.
From the New York Evenin' 7 Sun.
A large crowd gathered in front of an
up-town store. The attraction was high art.
A young man with a soft, slouched hat
tipped over his left eye sat before an easel
at work on a picture. Ho was putting toe
finishing touches to a weird landscape con
taining a boy, a cow, several sheep an* l 8
barn. About twenty other completed pic
tures stood around him, some with “*in e
and some without. Every movement of tne
brush was eagerly watched by an admiring
throng, whose necks were craned to get
good view of the artist as ho turned out
masterpieces at the rate of half a mile
The proprietor of the studio, a brisk libk
man with a bald head and a habit of ru
bing his hands together and bowing to
tomere, informed seekers after knowleog
that one of those elegant oil paintings'
“pure oil and no fraud about it
had for the modest sum of , T* lo 11!
itself ho said was worth 30c. a foot.
When the store dosed a journalist nc ’
paniud the artist to his home on the top n
of a dwelling not far from
square. The artist acknowledged that
occupation did not meet the ideals of
youthful ambitions. In early days he
dered through art galleries filled witl
hope of some day seeing his own pic . '
hanging on the walls, aud ho built oil < •
of his future fame and affluence. 01
had long ago given up those
was becoming resigned to the fate that p
him an humble worker in a store win •
He had not labored quite in vain, ho 1
for liis productions decorated the home*
the iHKir. who were quite as well satisii
they would be with higher works of ai