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2 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