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WOMEN AND T.HEIR WAYS.
They Lack the Poetry of Motion—They
Know Not How to Walk.
New York. Jane 35.—One of the rarest
things in the city is a woman who van
wn!k. The woman wlio can run hardly
eri-'ts. The average woman is possessed of
fee? nnd exacts from them a certain amount
of piaetical service, hut tlie chances are she
does not walk. Walking is a graceful excr
ci'rfi, ami the average well-dressed woman Ls
awkward. The better dressed she is—as
notions of dress go— the more awkward
■he becomes. To attribute much of the
poetry of motion to the gentler sex is
one of the politest as it is one of the most
palpable fictions of the code of civilized
society.
Two jxiung girls passed d< >wn a leafy
avenue of t be park in front of me this morn
ing. They were pretty girls, stunners, a
diminutive specimen of the old chappie
called tliem, flicking off a late dandelion
bloom with bis cane, and taking the rosebud
out of his mouth as he said so. He was
justified. They were stunners, as New York
girls, whose efforts in that line are better
directed and more apt to be successful than
those of other girls, are wont to be. Bright
eyes, flowing hair, a bewilderment of colors,
audacious, and at tiie same time perfectly
harmonious and in keeping with the June
luxuriance alxnit them, a swing and a jingle
at bead fringes and clanking chatelaines set
tliem off in the New York girls own high
spirited vivacious style.
They were discussing summer plaits. One
was going to Newport in a week and the
other was alternately congratulated because
her father was going to take her on a long
yachting voyage, and condoled with be
cause she was likely to get no tennis this
summer. Yachting and tennis. That
sounded like out-of-door living, and yet
neither of them could waik. The great
bulges of drapery on their backs swayed
with every stop from side to side aggravat
ing a jerky motion that was of the same
sort if not as pronounced as the painful for
ward hitches of a man on stilts. It seemed
to the observer as if. instead of having any
free command of the muscles that produce
a given motion, the whole body was turned
perforce into a locomotive machine that
pivoting somewhere tn the chest brought
one side forward and then the other
with an all-together effort that was
not especially noticeable in a slow saunter
but because positively distressing at a quick
pace.
The critical anatomist of raiment woukl
• hive called them victims of three incubuses,
tlie tailor gown, the bustle and beads. The
tailor gown, one coi-setiere assures me. has
reduced the size of the average New York
girl's w aist two inenes in as many years.
The tailor gown almost never weighs less
than ten pounds and it runs from that up to
mare than 30. The girl who has worn it is
prepared to put on a panoply of jet that
will make the delicately l>e.vied net that
locks so cool and airy that you might think
a fairy could dance in it weigh neurer forty
pounds. Sho has grown so accustomed to
dress burdens that her lace dresses for the
seashore have steels enqugh in their bodices
and lead weights enough in the silk slips
under their skirt' to make them far from
the summerish things they look. With the
body muscles strapped down and a loose
and swaying bustle mountain tied upon the
back, carrying more weight than would tire
a hearty man. it is small wonder a woman
can't walk. She can’t use her body because
she has made a pack mule of it. The spring
ing step with R>me vitality and relonnd in
it that is the true walking gait, is almost in
compatible with her attire.
Women, it is to be presumed, Ruit them
selves, and men, fortunately, are not criti
cal, are indeed im-ajmhle of judging of
woman’s dress or her walk dispassionately,
and so the present state of things may be
right enough after all. A man ought t>r> be
tolerant. When a woman is s( mulling the
I greater part of her life in studying how to
dress herself it is reasonable to assume that
she knows more about her own needs—and
consequently that to be able to walk is not
one of them —than the exoteric critic who
cynically views results when the cold
hearted horse <ar conductor half way down
the block bids her hurry up. And man is
tolerant. A great majority of masculine
humanity having a tender side for every
reasonably good-looking woman, ajjd being
accustomed to see the most of their angelic,
acquaintances drew and walk in a particular
fashion, conclude against the evidence of
their senses that both dm* and walk are
graceful and becoming, which, as before
said, all things considered, is a most fortu
nate state of affairs.
THE TRUK INWARDNESS
of the tale that has gone the rounds of the
Sress aliout Mrs Catherine Wolfe’s $1,000,-
X), supposed to have been appropriated, in
intention, to the projected Protestant
cathedral, but lost to’ that end through in
ability to frame a codicil to her will m the
lad feeble moments, was given me by Bishop
Potter in the cool, scholastic-looking offices
of the diocese the other day.
“Miss Wolfe was greatly interested,” he
said, “in the plan to build in this city a
cathedral that should tie to us what West
minster is to England—an embodiment of
the highest religious feeling and a receptacle
for the memorials of our honored deud. Hlie
would liave made the proieet one of the
main objects of her latter days and would
have taken a large shore of the financial
responsibility directly upon herself. She
was ready to identify herself with the move
ment and to devote her energies to it. It
was something that she had planned to work
for in her lifetime rather than bequeath
money to, and unfortunately she died
before the project, as revived—it ori
ginated in the days of my father—came to
ahead.”
It will be strange if the cathedral does
not enlist the sympathies and attract to it
self some of the superflous wealth of New
York's rich women. Denominational preju
dices are popularly supjxwed to soften less
easily among women than men, but on the
other hand the religious sentiment that de
lights in the twilight that flitters through
rn h glass on dim aisles, and mementoes of
holy things and men revered and pasetvl
away is attributed more frequently to women
and would incline them favorably to
Bishop Potter’s plans.
EX-SECRETARY MANNING
is not altogether a well-looking man, in spite
of his undoubted improvement, since his re
turn from England. Ho is slightly lame
and cannot wholly control the movements
of one arm. Mrs. .Manning, however, has
greatly profited by her trip, and the change
in her ajijienrauce from the tired-looking
woman wearied by the strain nml yet more
hv the anxiety of the last few months at
iVnshington to the cheery figure in trim
shopping costumes that walked rapidly
down the corridors of the Fifth Avenue
Hotel the other day was a marked one. Mrs.
Manning is a fine-looking woman with a
serene and composed manner and a reliable
look about her as if she were always as good
ns her word, if not a little better, too. She
has n cordial manner and kindly ways that
leave a pleasant impresssion With till who
meet, her.
"We had a pleasant trip,” she said,
“though there was nothing aliout it suffi
ciently removed from the ordinary run of
visits abroad to make it worth talking
about. We went with the single purpose of
recuring rest for Mr. Manning and held to
that idea throughout,. Bournemouth, where
we took lodgings, is in the south of England
und is, I think, as pretty and as healthful a
reeoi tn. it would lie easy to find. Here we
rtowed ourselves away, and read a little und
wrote a little, and enjoyed the sen air anil
the rare greenery of the beautiful English
spring. It was vacation, worries all left Ire
land, very quiet and very pleasant. Wo did
nothing we did not wish to do, and very lit
tle of anything at all. Tlie very atmosphere
help, one to take life easily there. It is not
so sharp, aim insistent as hei e and nobody
hurries ns all Americans do.
"When Mr. Manning had begun fairly to
improve, my daughter and 1 went to London
for a short, time, getting the beginnings of
the season.”
“Minister Phelps thought your standing at
home sufficiently assured to <xit,itlo you to
Bre.eijtatioo at court, did lie i.oir”
“We were presented, yes, and a curious
ceremony to an American, it seems. We
made a nving trip to Paris, too, and then
back to England and home again.”
• ‘Do you expect t< > tak-* house in New York
and become one of the permanent residents
of Gotham 1”
“It is too early to sj>ak of that definitely,
Vet. We have a pleasan- home iu Albany
that it might be hard to give up: but I like
Xt-vr York nnd beyond all things lam re
joiced to get Iwrk to America.”
Mrs. Manning looks her pleasure in the re
turn, and her friends fu’.lv expect, in case
the ex-Secretary of the Treasury proves
physically equal to his duties as President of
the Western Bank, to see her domiciled in
New York by fall.
IF MRS. CHI ARA CION A RALE
should be allowed to hang for the crime of
killing her worthless and abusive husband,
while in mortal fear lest he should execute
hi.- brutal threat.- against her, a good many
women in New York State will tako pains
to acquaint Gov. Hill with their displeas
ures, vehement if ineffectual. It is only a
few mouths since Mrs Dru-e was hung for
a similar offense, committal under circum
stances not widely different, wiiile within a
year a number of men have missed hanging
who abundantly deserved it. One of these
cut his victim's' body up and packed it into
a trunk, throwing the head into the East
river. Another was a police officer who
killed his superior hecause the latter was at
tempting to enforce the rules of the depart
ment. Another was a fellow who poured
vitriol upon the face of the landlady, who
died in the most excruciating agony. All
thiee of the men escaped hanging and the
women of the State—even those who have
no particular objection to men and women
faring alike as to capital punishment—are
comparing their eases with those of Mrs.
Diaise and Mrs. Cignarale, and the more
they eomjiare the hotter their indignation
grows.
The certainty that the new theatre for
amateurs, ground for which was broken a
fortnight ago, will tie ready for opening by
Thanksgiving week, has already stimulated
the formation of plans for next season, and
the probabilities are that winter will
see an outbreak of amateur acting,
good, bad mid indifferent—mostly the
latter—to which the past year’s craze was
as moonlight unto sunlight, or as water unto
wine.
JOHN BOYLE O’REILLY
has a beautiful wife. Not that I ever
chanced to see her. but a plaster head and
bust, of life size, done, I think by John
Donoghue, the Boston sculptor, aud sent to
Now York for perpetuation in bronze, has
bren exhibited to a favored few within a
day or two past. It is like her. for it has
life-likeness marked in every Line. The
model has a Greek face, eyes almost with
speech in them, lips parted, hair drawn back
and loosely knotted behind.
Dr. H. Pereira Meades, one of the best
known Hebrew rabbis in this country, puts
a great truth tersely and well when he snvs:
“Humanity is not religionized if women
need escort of a night.”
He might liave added, a city is not civi
lized so long as women without an escort
must go hungry in its streets of a night, as a
woman novelist, whose name is known over
this country and Europe, has done in Now
York within a fortnight, because no
restaurant, until she could provide herself
with a male acquaintance, would serve her a
meal.
If yon have an unloved and uncared for
India shawl make a tea gown of it, and your
early affection will revive.
The flowered silk gowns with broad
flounces of lace on the skirt, open necks
puffed sleeves and panoLs on the side, make
the summer girl of the present season look
as if she might easily have sat for one of the
familiar portraits of" Marie Antoinette in her
younger days.
Black satin draped with silk net is a favor
ite combinat ion of materials with women
whose hair is prematurely gray and to whom
black silk or satin unrelieved is more or less
trying.
An apron overdress wholly composed of
the milliner’s best make of French daisies
woven together into some sort of consistency
by their own long stems is the last oddity
for country wear. A daisy lx>lt and wreath
for hat go with it. E. P. H.
FASHION POINTS FOB WOMEN.
The Feminine Mind Haa<3-ot Hold of a
New and Attractive Fad.
N w York, June 35.—A new faiNif the
feminine mind * not an aspeeiully attrac
tive one. Many women persist iu pencil
lingtheir eyebrows with India ink. It may
lie condoned where it is an improvement,
but not one woman in ten understands how
to do this without making herself ridiculous.
I met a mother of grown daughters at a re
ception recently who had evidently
“marie up" in a hurry, or in a
room insufficiently lighted, for one eyebrow
was half an inch higher than the other, more
arched and much longer. It gave this other
wise dignified female the apjiearanee of giv
ing a diabolical wink with one eye, which,
to say the least, was grotesque. ’ I haven’t
seen such an eyebrow since the days of
•‘Humpty-Dumpty” Fox, who used to paint
hts that way, and I declare his face was no
funnier than that of this lady of society,
with her aira, graces and burlesque eye
brow.
At the house of a friend the other day I
saw a screen which was particularly pretty
in its place in the gold and white -bedroom
of a dainty maiden. With the white gold
flowered cretonne hangings and upholstery,
the shining brass bedstead and table, the
delirtite frames of etchings and the
thousand and one materialized fancies of
a young girl of taste and the means to
gratify it, the screen liecame a charming
accessory.
It was iu tree panels, the frame being of
carved wood enameled white and picked
out in gold. Above the framework, which
was of wood up some eighteen inches, was
shirred white China silk, with d?lieate gold
tracery running over it. A handsome gold
colored satin Ikiw tied on one upper corner
finished the screen, which, simple a> it
was in construction, was a marvel of deli
cate art in furniture.
Evelyn Baker llarvier.
HANDKERCHIEFS OF GREAT PRICE.
Some Suggestions as to What Thoy are
Intended for.
New York, June 35. —Handkerchiefs are
obviously no longer intended for use; at
least those that now-a-days form so con
spicuous a feature of a fashionable woman’s
toilet are not. I saw some the other dav
mads of the most delicate shades of surah
silk und edged with the daintiest lace im
aginable. To allow such handkerchiefs as
these to fall into the clutches of the every
day laundress would bo the ruin of them.
There wore others of bright scarlet mull,
and more unpretending ones of rose-colored
und turquoist'hued batiste. Anew fashion
is to have the monogram, crest or initials
embroidered in the centre of the handker
chief and not in one corner as heretofore.
Of course no vulgar white thread is to bo
used for this puniose. Tho design must bo
worked in silk of the same color as the hand
kerchief. or else of a contrasting
shade. Wash-silks are employed, though,
us eve-ylioily knows, they are not to lie
washed. Any kind of embroidery silk wil 1
•ffo as well.
At a large country luncheon given last
week thp guests were invited at the conclu
sion of the meal to the imultry yard. What
fori Why, to search for new laid eggs, of
course. Each woman of the party was jiro
vidod with a straw basket tied with ribbons,
and handed to her on a silver salver by a
pmve looking butler. Armed with those
implements, the fair dames went poking
about the poultry yard in tin- ran, at the
risk of ruining their tempers nnd their oom-
Dlexious, and all for the exquisite pleasure
of finding or not finding an
eg *. The hostess appeared to con
Kider th idea an exceedingly novel and
brilliant one. Novel it certainly was, but
as to its brilliancy—well, 1 think I. am safe
in saying that egg hunting is not likely to
become a common feature at rural entertain
ments this so-mmer. Mlara Lanza.
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, JUNE 26, 1887—TWELVE PAGES.
DINING WITH EXILES.
SIX DEATH SENTENCED CONSPIRA
TORS BREAK BREAD TOGETHER.
They Relate Their Experiences in
Escaping From European Monarch
ies-A Woman Who Was Knoutedfcy
Order of the Czar Tells the Story
of Her Terrible Experience.
New York. June 35. —There is a wealthy
gentleman residing in a handsome domicile
in the most, fashionable part of this city
who, during the volcanic period of the past
dozen years, lias made u keen study of the
revolutionary movements throughout
Europe and the men engige.l in them He
has studied them as Darwin studied the
varieties of species in nature, wholly fret
from prejudice, and with the sole view
of understanding the method of their
development. In the course of his study he
has visited Europe, where he got an inside
view of their workings and made the ac
quaintance of some of the actors in them.
In this city, to winch so many of these actors
have drifted or fled the past few years, he
has prosecuted his search for knowledge
according to opportunities possessed by a
mail who is thoroughly trusted and fhithful
to the trust. lam familiar with the gentle
man in question, and a short time ago lie
told me of a singular project, in which he
desired me to join him in a confidential wav.
Among his underground acquaintances fn
New York he had found five men and one
woman, fugitives from various countries of
Europe, all of whom had been condemned
to death as revolutionary conspirators, and
each of whom, within a few years, had
escaped to this country; and he had the
notion of bringing them all together, the
group of condemned conspirators, at his
table at a friendly banquet on a Sunday
afternoon. 1 enjoyed *tne prospect of the
novelty. All of the proposed guests were
visiter! during the week hv my friend aud
cordially invited to his table, each of them
being told of his purpose and the names of
the propised guests. It turned out that
none of them knew the others. The whole
six. including Miss Blank, accepted the free
handed invitation. I was at my friend's
mansion before the hour of norm, which
was the tim-- fixeri for their presence, in
order that I might join him in welcoming
each of them utmii arrival. It struck me as
the strangest incident of all my experiences
in New York, where I have met so many
people with singular histories and careers. I
was to dine, at the request of my host, with
six conspirators upon whom the sentence of
doom hail lieen pronounced, but who had,
in various ways, esca|>ed the fate which had
befallen many of their revolutionary com
panions.
■ P: Hi’ I ‘<L , l;j jI 11
DINING WITH THE DOOMED.
The first to arrive was a black-haired
Russian, Slavonic in tyjfs, slight in figure,
with a furtive expression and countenance,
guarded in his words, and seemingly sus
picious of his surroundings as he glanced at
the interior of the mansion. He had been a
student at St. Petersburg, and had been
charged, said my host, with being concerned
in the dynamite" explosion in the Winter
Palace during the reign of the fated Czar
Alexander I L, who was finally killed by a
bomb in the streets. The day after the ex
plosion he was in a duugeon of the fortress
of Bt. Peter and Paul, and two days after
ward he was condemned to the scaffold by
the military tribunal, with three days of
grace before execution. Fortunately for
him, money is a power even in a R ussian
fortress, and his aristocratic family used it
lavishly in his behalf, so that on the morning
set for the execution his cell was found
vacant, and before the uproar among the
officials had ended the alarmed Governor
of the fortress was doomed to Siberia by
“executive order” for negligence of duty.
The next arrival was the young Russian
woman, large in the mouth, high in the
cheek liones, small in the eyes, and wearing
some gay articles of the unique garb of “little
Russia," x who, as our host told me, had lieen
found guilty of complicity in a conspiracy
at Kharkoff, and had been sentenced to the
fate that overtook Sophia Peroffsky. The
next arrival was a Spaniard of the “Black
Hand,” who had deserted from the Spanish
army to join the insurrection at Carthagena.
and who, upon the capture of the city, bad
been condemned bv drum head court-martial
to be shot, but who, in the confusion at the
close of the struggle in the harbor, got aboard
of a small trader bound for Gibraltar, in
which he concealed himself till he reached
British soil. A refugee of the Paris Com
mune of 1871, sentenced to lx- shot by Gen.
Gallifet, next joined us and was introduced
to the party. He was one of the hundreds
who, by various subterfuges, made their
escape during the progress of the executions
in March, and several of whom aro yet in
this city. Next came a German Anarchist
who had lieen implicated in Hodel’s attempt
upon the Kaiser, but who had evaded tne
arrest which was necessary to the execution
of his sentence. Our last comer closed the
list of half a dozen in the jierson of a gray
haired conspirator whom our host called
“The Unknown,” and of whom no infor
mation was given beyond the fact that iiis
revolutionary career had once brought him
within the pale of the executioner. He
spoke perfectly the English language, with
which also the two Russians had a '(leaking
acquaintance, and which was spoken with
broken accents of differing kinds by the
three others. It was a polyglot group of
five different races, beside my friend and
myself, but we all fraternized, as we were
bound to do under the circumstances, before
entering the spacious dining hall of our
host. The half dozen guests were all in
rough garb that strongly contrasted with
their rich environment, all of them being
refugees who are isinqieUed to eke out a
living by devious means in those quarters
of the city where the poorest class of
foreigners middle in the tenements. The
decorations of the banqueting table were
worthy of the feast which our ho it had in
structed his French chef to prepare for the
occasion, but. the service had to Is- managed
by our host and myself, because the guests
had been promised" privacy in their enter
tainment
The six condemned revolutionary conspi
fst >rs were at the table, with Miss Blank
on our host's right, myself in front of him.
Course succeeded eotii-se; white wine was
followed by Burgundy till the piece tfe re
st it a nee was laved in ehanqxigne.iuid finally,
after several hours of enjoyment, the ban
quet gently closed amid the fragrant future
that soothe tho quickened brain. Tho
demeanor of every guest had been worthy
of the courtly host, nnd it turned out that
all were iiossossod of intelligence more
nil'-prising to mo than to him. Wo were
apart from the world, though in the heart
of tluj citv. We were alone behind closed
diHii™ Wo met on terms of equality ami
confidence. We conversed freely, without
reserve. We Rpokc of revolutions, conspira
rios and plots, of despot' nnd their power,
of surprising escapes,nairlireadtu adventures
anil the ragged edge. At last, as nightfall
upprnnehed, it was agreisF that each of the
condemned should tell the tale of his
revolutionary career. Then followed a
series of nan-stives which would make one
of the veirdast volumes ever written,
tl ough some oi them were bardiv intelligi
ble in the broken English in which they
were given. And the evening glided away
8S my friend and myself sat riveted, till the
clock struck midnight, when our black
bearded Russian, whose furtive expression
had now beto-re frank, struck up the "Mar
seillaise,” is which all joined, and amid the
strains of which the curious group prepared
to depart.
I had never before been in the company
of the condemned and never expect to see
it again. It was to me a revelation, which
Ido not yet understand, of several of the
features of life among the refugees ill New-
York.
f /*
' It
THE ANARCHIST PICNIC.
The experience has led me to make inquiries
among classes of which 1 had previously
been ignorant, though I had supposed I
knew niv native city from the Battery to the
Bronx. I hrve found camps of Russian
Nihilists, among whom figure Leo Hartmann
nnd Goroff; camps of German Anarchists,
among whom figure Most, Braunschweig
and Rolling; camps of French Communists,
who are still bewailing the death of their
leader, Edmond Megy; camps of Italian
Irridentists and camps of like kind from all
the other countries of Europe, not excluding
the Irish of O'Donovan Rossa. In every ex
ploration I have found, to my satisfaction,
this fact, that almost every Terrorist of
them all is wholly opjxised to resorting to
violence for any purpose in the United
States, and pveti the very men whose names
so often excited the community profess that
their plots are neooessary only under the
despot isms of Europe. To me this ciroum
stani-*- has its assuring features, for though
it would be easy for the American com
munity to repress revolutionary disturb
ances,"it is easier to feel that New York Ls
in no danger from them. The trifling
scrimmage at the Anarchist excursion across
the Hudson on the 12th of June was undeserv
ing of the reports which the new-spapers
gave it.
An anecdote which is absolutely true in
every detail will illustrate and explain the
feelings of some of the refugees in America.
Not far from the police station on Elizabeth
street is a large 3-story brics building.
Years ago it was a handsome dwelling, but
time and the small boy have played navoc
with its facade, doors, windows and railing.
It is occupied by a well-to-do Russian who
yeai-s ago fled his native land for alleged
complicity in some plot against the Czar. It
has long been the rendezvous of political
refugees of both sexes, Russians, Nihilists,
Polish lilierators, French Communards,
German Socialists and cosmopolitan Anarch
ists. The circle met there is composed of
educated and clever people. Nearly all are
excellent linguists and more or less success
ful in trade, literature or professional life.
Owing proliably to the terrible scenes in
which they have been actors, all are more
or less eccentric in behavior, speech or ideas.
Not long since a party of a dozen men and
women were spending the evening in the
large old-fashioned parlor. All smoked, a
few sippod the vitriolic Vodka between the
whiffs of their cigarettes, while all the rest
assuaged thirst with the cheap wines of the
Rhine and Moselle. The conversation had
been political and literary rather than
anecdotal in character, and had flagged until
the room was almost silent. The only
jierson sjteaking was a handsome Jewess of
34 or 35. whose name or nom de querre was
Theodora Ounavitseh. She was of a rare
type of that race, being a superb blonde
with bright golden hair, large, lustrous blue
eyes and exhibiting the powerful figure and
splendid health which characterize the He
brew women to so remarkable a degree. As
she paused at the end of an argument and
drained a glass of Joephshix-fer, someone
asked, “Wnat made you a Nihilist, Dora;”
THEODORA ORNAVITSCH.
“Nothing very remarkable to us Russians,”
she replied. “I belong to a good family in
a small town in the Warsaw Province. I
married tho rabbi of our synagogu \ and we
were very happy for a few months. The
Czar then male a change, and sent down a
new Governor from St. Petersburg to re
place our old one, who was a good and just
man, although a Russian General. The
newcomer liad every vice and no virtue of
any kind. He was so bod and cruel that our
friends and relatives wrote us when he came
warning us against him. My husliand the
next Sabbath in the synagogue told our
jieojile about him, and advised them to be
over cautious in not violating any one of
the thousand tyrannical laws with which
we were cursed. Though he spoke in He
brew for fear of spies, someone betrayed
him to the Governor. He was arrested,
tried, flogged on the public square into
insensibility and sent to Siberia for life. I
was present when he underwent his agony,
and stood it until I became crazed. I broke
through tbcf crowd toward the wretch of an
official, anil cursed him and liis master, the
Czar, and swore vengeance against both. 1
too was arrested, tried at court-martial and
sentoiu-ed to receive an hundred blows with
tho rod in the public square. I, a woman,
was taken by drunken Jloujiks and heathen
Cossacks to the jilai-c, tied by my hands to
the whijiping poet, itiy clothing torn from
niv body to the waist, and beaten before all
the soldiery and the people of the town. At
the twentieth blow I famPsl, but the rop-s
held me up, and tho lull hundred were
counted on my body. They cut me down,
rubbed rook salt and water and some iron
that ate like fire into my back to stop tho
bleeding and carried me to tho hospital. I
lay there two months and was discharged.
I had but one ideu then and that was ven
geince. By patience I managed to get
employment in the Governor's palace as a
seamstress. One afternoon he was in his
bath and he sent for towels. The attendant
was tired and I volunteered to tako them. I
threw them over my arm and under them
I held a long stiletto, sharp as a needle. 1
entered the room and he was reading and
smoking in the bath. I laid the towels by-
Lis side with mr left hand and at the next
lri-ment with my right I drove the knife
* r sugh his heart. It was splendidly done.
He ne rer made a sound and I escaped to
tms land. That is whv lam a Nihilist. I>o
any of you doubt”' She sprang excitedly
from her chair and in half a minute had
bared herself to the waist. The front of
her form from neck to belt might have
passed as the model of the Venus de Milo,
but the back ’ Ridges, welts and furrows
that crossed and interlaced as if cut out
with reuhot iron: jiatobes of white, gray,
pink, blue and angry rod; holes and hollows
with hard hideous edges, half visible rite
and the edges of niinel muscles, nnd all of
which moved, contracted aid lengthened
with the swaying of her body. There was a
gasp.from every one present. The aged
host rose, silently kis>ed her on the forehead
ar-l help'd her to put back her garments.
Then again the wine pas-ed round and
what secret toasts wore made as the party
drank will never be known.
William E. S. Fales.
ITEMS FOR LADIES.
Slip Covers, Sofa Pillows and Foot
Stools.
At this season of the year the wise bouse
keejier has carefully brushed and put away
the heavy draj/eries that add so much to the
warmth and luxury in winter, and, like her
self, arrayed in summer finery, so are her
rooms arranged. Everything that will gath
er dust or exclude the air should be removed,
and it is astonishing how much more attract
ive a room decked for summer is in the warm
weather: most of the ornaments should tie
put away so as to protect them from flies
and dust and to give the apjiearanee of
greater sjiace. If one has an alcove where
(xirtieres have hung all winter, which looks
too bare without anything, the Japanese
bamboo jxirtieres are a j>retty summer sub
stitute—“them whiplashes.” as Joshua A\ hit
comb calls them in that delightful picture
of New England life, "The Old Homestead.”
Another very pretty decoration for an alcove
is to drajie a lawn tennis net across the top
like a lambrequin. All the furniture should
be covered with slip covers, not only to save
the furniture, but because it looks and feels
cooler. Formerly a dark gray linen was
used, bound with red or blue braid, but since
we have thought more of household decora
tion, much taste and novelty is shown in this
direction. Avoid the very heavy linens, as
it is apt to do the furniture more harm than
goal by rolling constantly against the ex
pensive fabric with which the furniture is
already covered. A soft, rather thin mate
rial is the best for the furniture and it laun
dries much better. I saw a room where all
the slip covers were made of white gingham,
plaided off with yellow; in these days, when
white and gold are the colors par excellence
for drawing rooms, the effect was very beau
tiful. The gilt picture frames were covered
with white gauze, with rosettes of yellow
gauze, and the gas fixtures were treated in
the same way. Blue and white plaid ging
ham, with more of the white than the blue
is pretty, and white squared off with pink is
very beautiful. Plash covered tables are
also covered to match the furniture, also
mantlepieces.
Another beautiful cover for furniture is
of white dimity, made esjiecialiy for these
slip covers, on"which a design is stainjieil,
which is worked in outline stitch. A sofa
cover that I saw had a bunch of flowers, and
underneath the words “Rest for the Weary. ”
Sofa pillows are covered the same wax - , the
covers being laced on each side with linen
cord and tassels. “Pleasant Dreams” and
other appropriate designs are done in outline
upon the jiiliow covers. A foostool had a
white linen cover, on which was worked
Toujmir a rospieds. By the way, if any
voung lady desires to "give her fiance a
Christmas present of her own workmanship,
get a piece of gold colored plush and work
the above motto njx>n it in white silk and
have it made up next winter at any furni
ture dealer’s; it will make pretty fancy work
for the hotel piazza this summer and is not
difficult. The motto is certainly appropri
ate, and if the eventful question has not yet
been asked by a too diffident lover sucii a
footstool would lie sure to bring him to the
decisive moment. It would be meeting him
half way, in a suggestive but not unfemi
nine manner.
Avery pretty dado for summer may be
made by tacking one width of fine straw
matting lengthwise around the entire apart
ment. The matting should lie put on just
above the baseboard, or as they call them in
Boston and throughout New England “mop
lioards.'’ The matting is just wide enough
to bring the top of the dado at the projier
distance from the floor. At the top of the
matting, where it is tacked on, attach a
tiny upholstery fringe or gimp, and use
gimp tacks dr ornamental brass headed
tacks. If the floor is left jierfectly bare or
is covered with the matting, the effect of
this dado is equally attractive. A great
many artists use the matting as a dado in
their studios, which proves that it is the
correct thing in decoration.
Evelyn Baker Harvier.
Ghastly Exhibition.
Washington Letter to Baltimore American.
George Starr, a very well-known “im
pressario,” so to sjieak, in the matter of
amusements, announces that he has "se
cured” the head of Guiteau, the assassin of
President Garfield, and that he will exhibit
it at Brighton. He tells a readable story of
how he bought the head from Prof. E. M.
Worth, a great collector of curiositibs. This
is how Prof. Worth came in jxissession of
the head, at least, as told by the jiresent
owner. It is sufficiently gruesome to be in
teresting rending, and everybody knows
that, with showmen, truth is altogether an
incidental affair. “About a year ago.” he
says, "Prof. Worth received several letters,
signed fictitiously, stating that Guiteau's
head was intact, in perfect preservation.
The Professor replied to these lettei-s, aud at
last secured an interview with the writers.
He found that he was dealing with respon
sible jiersons, and that there could he no
question as to the truth of their statements.
Guiteau's head had been removed, jilaced in
alcohol and hidden in the cellar of a residence
in Washington.
“Only two jiersons knew of its where
abouts, and for a year or two the people
living in the house slept in jieaccful igno
rance of the fact that a jx/rtion of Guiteau
was so'aking in spirits beneath them. Prof.
Worth filially secured the head. He suc
ceeded in restoring it to an almost life-like
apjiearanee. He trial to have a square glass
jar made, as a round one distorted the face
ar.d magnified it. Molds were made nnd
several glass factories trial to turn one out.
But the size was too large and a i-omplete
failure was the result. He has had photo
graphs taken of it, as it will be exhibited.
“The head is susjiended in an upright, sec
tional square vase twenty-seven inches in
height,. The vase stands upon a four-font
jx-destn! lutt.ie of bras.., and all this is sur
roundedkKd framework to keep spectators
at a diThe head is almost jjerfect ir.
short hair and moustache in
ns the day he was executed. Tne
eyes opened and the loagt:--shows
the lips. There a faint
ycllr(Hrt itt to the flesh. The small white
scar that was noted iqwn the scalp a? the
jxist-mortom cxajnination is plainly to be
seen. Partly around the neck is a yellowish
furrow- made by the rojje which strangled
the assassin. All these correspond with
medical rejiorts of the autopsy. Compare
the head of Guiteau to be exhibited with tho
picture token of Guiteau before the execu
tion und all doubts arc ajijjarently removal
as to Prof. Worth having secured the genu
ine thing.”
For Rickets, Marasmus, and Wasting
Disorders of Children,
Scott's Emulsion of Pure Cod Liver Oi! with
Hypophosphites is unequaled. The rapidity
with which children gain flesh and strength
ujxin it is very wonderful. Rend the follow
ing: “I have used Scott’s Emulsion in cases
of rickets and marasmus of long standing,
and have been more than pleaird with the
results, as in every case the iiuprovanient
was marked.” —J. M. Main, M. D., New
York.
RiMßissn nciio-ts •-cwlne of "Christ
Healing the Sick" has be njbought by the Brit
ish Museum (or JpU.uuo. inure are but eg ,t
impressions of this etching in exUtenca, and oie
lust, which amt on the market m 1897, brought
$U.403.
BADY STARS.
Young America’s Ambition to Get
Ahead in the World.
New York, Jane 2.5.—1 tis a Rood thing
to pay one's way in the world, and Young
America is coming to do it not infrequently
at a very early aee. The Country li eek
Association and the Fresh Air Fund may do
their work never so thoroughly, they will
not find it easy to provide anv more high
swings, or hammocks, or plaything, or uur
fcrv privileges than a bunured and more
youngsters down at Erastina on Istatea
Island are commanding for themselves, with
more or less cash besides. A stagelu! of
children, dear, little chubby urchins not
yet out of their round-cheeked, round-limi e:l
period just following babyhood, is one of the
facts which impresses itself on the visitor to
the great spectacle, the "Fall of Babylon,"
which opened this week, a fact which sug
fests a string of questions to the mind.
tables, one might think, are stage struck.
There they are. a bright-eyed Hock of them,
and there they will live all summer long,
appearing on "the stage nightly and given
over to the care of a matronly bend of nurses
by dav. They have been ’in training for
their summer business for a couple of
months past. They are attractive-looking
little folks with the stage tinsel stripped off
them, and they seem happy, too. A hard
life for babies maybe! And yet there were
600 or more applicants where 150 perhaps
were wanted.
The frequency of the employment of very
young children on the stage, beyond a doubf,
is on the increase. A baby in a play lie s
come to be looked on as a masootte, and oi-e
is often introduced wholly without reason,
simply to bring luck when the child has
nothing to do. like the blby which comes
on in tne fir. t act of “Separation, ’ or the
infant which confines its energies to playing
with its stage grandfather's watch in "Josh
Whitcomb.” There is something in the
superstition, too, for whenever a child is
upon the stage, for no matter how short a
time, it usually engrosses the attention and
conquers sympathies of at least the feminine
portion of the audience. ‘'May Blossom"
was the first play ever produced at the Madi
son Square which introduced a child, but
since the days of "May Blossom” the baby
star has multiplied ad infinitum.
But where do they come from! Some of
the children are "property" urchins, so to
speak, belonging to some member of the
cast and so producible on all necessary oc
casions. Where several are wanted, as in
the first act of Clara Morris’ “Miss Multon”
to dance on Christmas eve to the plaudits of
a wet-eyed audience or to utter the child
like prattle which never fails to produce its
effect in "May Blossom,” a manager can al
ways advertise as for anything else conceiv
able on this modern earth. Every theatre
has upon its list of supes, a woman or two
who has a child trained to do juvenile busi
ness on short, notice, and at least one of the
dramatic agencies can furnish any number
from one to 100 with no trouble at all to the?
contracting employer. Little folks are easily
enough had from parents who think they
have a budding genius in the family, or from
other parents wno want bread and butter.
And though most of these tiny actors are
employed solely on account of their childish
beauty, some of them have more than a
childish cleverness too, are well known in
the profession and command salaries of tol
erable dimensions.
Bijou Fernandez is the child actress par ex
cellence, though m her recent unique at
temptto star as a child heroine in a play
written expressly for her, she did not suc
ceed especially Vfell. Bijou has played in
everything from “Topsy" in “Uncle Tom's
Cabin” some years ago, to the child pa ru
in "The Silver King," “The Merry Wives
of Windsor” and ''Marselle," as presented
by Miss Forsythe's company, the present
season. She has reached an age now when
she ought to leave the stage and go to school
if she is to make a mature actress of any
merit by and by.
Other stage children more or less well
known to the play-going public are Baby
Woods and the other pages who hold up
Miss Mather's flowing train as “Juliet;”
the Ogden sisters, who play with Clara Mor
ris ; Grace Pauling, who has a long: standing
engagement with Cora Tanner: little Miss
Chiocchi, who has taken a variety of roles;
the two talented children of "George H.
Adams, of “Humpty Dumpty” fame; Tom
my Russell, who has played in other roles
besides that of “Yank” in “May Blossom;"
Mabel Malley in “The Ivy Leaf,” and young
Walter Van Vleek, who has appeared as a
very precocious “Marks,” the lawyer. A
year or so ago this list would not have been
complete without Peggy Miller, the child
in “Fritz.” but poor Peggy has left the stage
and this earth together.
Nine times out of ten the stage child be
longs to the more precocious, if not the clev
erer sex. There are exceptions to the rule,
however. I remember m particular, one
lovely long-haired little boy whose mother
told me one day with a mother’s pride that
he played in German parts at the Thalia one
week and in English, at the uptown thea
tres the next. He often took a boy’s part
in the afternoon and a girl's in the evening,
she said, and though his curls were getting
heavy and burdensome, she could not afford
to cut them off because to do so would in
stantly reduce liis value in the market one
half, since he would be no longer able to con
ceal successfully his ruder sex.
Little people on the stage sometimes re
in nn simple ami natural, taking the mimic
drama for another phase of real life, like the
child in “Claudian" who was broken-hearted
when Wilson Barrett was struck by the
stage lightning, supposing him to be really
killed, and sometimes become very critical
little actors, standing in the flies and keep
ing the grown stars well up to the mark.
One young lady of 0 or thereabouts, who
has a seven by nine part in a queer play
called “Infatuation,” always watches the
whole thing through; when anv actor
makes a slip or mimes a point she is the first
one to remark it with a half-complaining,
half-contemptuous, “He didn’t do that
right, now, did he?” She and her kind
learn the tricks of the spoiled actresses.
They want flowers; they stamp and scold
when their small pranks fail to elicit the
customary meed of laughter, and make peo
ple very unhappy behind the wings.
Does the child actress always become a
grown-up actress of the first rank or does
such an early exposure to stage life tend to
permanent mental stunting; is a question
which it would lie hard to answer. Prob
ably the girl who begins her stage life as a
child has in life, less nervousness before the
footlights than the girl who grow up in a
more usual way, but the latter ought in
most cases to more than make up the differ
ence by her better general education and by
greater power of application—perhaps also
bv remaining so much longer unspoiled by
fin t ry. “Baby Benson,” who made her
l r t appearance in the “Three Hunchbacks"
at the tender age of years, is perhaps a
pretty good illustration of how stage child
r. u are brought up. At 9, up to which time
she had been constantly playing, she did
not know how to read or write and her
mother sent her to school for a few years only
when she wax back upon the stage again ns
a young lady, her childhood—poor tiling!—
having Lam clipped short at both ends. Yet
as Marguerite Fish, the soubrette, she is
proving fairly successful now. Jennie Yea
nians, another of our cleverest character
actresses, lias been on the stage since her sth
year, with the exception of about three
years in her early teens. Fanny Davenport
is another example of the stage child be
coming callable as a grown woman of doing
the very best of work. Annie Pixley
played all sorts of roles in short dresses, and
instances of the same sort are fairly numer
ous Anyhow the question of the pro' able
effect of stage life on voting children is likely
to be pretty thoroughly tested. The Society
for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children
has practically censed interfering with their
employment and they are now numbered
lit’*rnly by tho faruirlrodv. In tho course
of twenty or thirty years we may see how
runny of these precocities become Booths i r
EI.IZ A PVTXAM 1 It;A 11 N
5V nonniMimt. X. 5'.. with a population of MV*
• a* two septuagenarians, eighteen octozenar’
lam, In i t. o iiouMM-ib.. .an*, aggregating aismt
t.suu \e.irs. iii IRHS tnr> was in the town
twenty-five citizens ranging L , rn go to 110. The
average is about the samo Still.
ON THE TOP OF THE HEAP.
An American Girl Who Has Become a
Leading Lady In London.
New York, June 25.—Lady Randolph
Churchill! The name of this charming
American lady will live in the pages of ths
history of the latter part of the Victorian
reign, and the inquiring students of the t u .
ture will ransack every available work of
knowledge in order to find some contempo
raneous view of a personage so uniqu,..
The few strokes of pen-sketching done l.y
Pepys, the diarist, present to the mind more
forcibly than any painted }>ortrait which is
now extant, the charms of the noted women
of his day. His frequent aiiusions to Neil
Gwynne as “a mighty pretty soul" have
sustained the reputation for beauty of the
famous orange girl of Drury Lane, whi.-ti
no portrait of her—not even that hung m
the Beauty room at Hampden Court Pal
ace—quite substantiates; and it is mainly
upon Horace Walpole’s persistent references
to the loveliness of "the beautiful Gunnings"
that we base our belief in their amazing
comeliness; for, certainly, the canvas re
cently destroyed by fire in Argyle Castle,
which depicted the beautiful Gunning, who
captured in marriage two dukes in suepes
sion, Argyll and Hamilton, did not picture
that especial combination of attractions
which we usually look Mpon as unchal
lengeable beauty.
L nfortunately, nay. perhaps fortunately,
for these celebrities of loveliness, that hard
hearted truth-teller, the photographer, did
not exist in their day. Photographs of
Lady Randolph Churchill abound. \Ve see
her American ladyship in court dress, in
walking costume, in ball dress. With these
photographs, as with those of nil of us, the
general features of tho face and form are
presented satisfactorily enough: but the
light that shines behind the eyes, the flame
from the unquenchable fire of tlie soul is
absent. The crowding world of all London,
which was present at Henry Irving's single
.afternoon representation of “Werner,"
brought me to elbow-rubbing proximity
with Lady Randolph as she and her Lorcl
stood waiting for their carriage in the gild
ed lobby of the Lyceum. Talent and deter
mination are written in characters unmis
takable upon this young wife’s face. The
wide brow shows the mind to conceive, and
the square chin proclaims the power to exe
cute. There could not be a single disas
trous eventuality in life in which the judg
ment and advice of this beautifully clear
eyed woman would not be of comforting
value. Those dark limpid eyes are large
and full or thought; there is gravity, but
not sadness, worn upon the immobile lies.
Though comely in face and form, “Lady
Randolph would never be placed upon the
lists as a professional beauty. She has too
much brains.
She was attired in a tight-fitting dress of
small blue and gray plaid silk and wore a
high peaked stringless bonnet of black lace,
upon the summit of which a handful of gold
hearted daisies nodded prettily. Lord Ran
dolph made lus way leisurely through the
crowd, which evidently contained many of
his admirers, for he was greeted with hearty
l eers from the audience when he showed
himself, with his wife, in a grand tier box.
Americans would have less difficulty in un
dei-standing the immense popularity of Lord
Randolph if they could see how "youthful
and engaging is his appearance, and' could
comprehend that, by nmglish Conservatives,
Ireland’s demands for self-government are
looked upon exactly as we looked upon the'
intention of the South to secede*—namely,
as rebellious and wicked. The young pala
din fights for his altars and his sires, and—
Joan of Arc with a difference —the splen
did, slender New York girl he has wedded
enters the fray and battles for the mainte
nance of the traditions of the ancient land
which is now her home. The secret of her
secession from democracy aristocracy? Ah,
it is easily read: “Love rules the camp, the
court, the grove.” What says the Biblical
maiden? “Whither thou goest I will go;
thy people shall be my people.” Her inter
est in American enterprise shows that Lady
Randolph's conservatism is to be traced to
the fact not that she loves America less but
her husband more. Olive Logan.
IN A DREAM.
How Mrs. Butler was Warned of Her
Son’s Death.
From the Brooklyn Eagle.
The body of William J. Butler, aged 19
years, of 220 Grand street, who was drowned
from a row boat off Bowery Beach last
Sunday afternoon during the squall, In*
not yet been found. A reporter called at
noon to-day at the home of the deceased's
parents. The mother was greatly distressed
over her loss. The suddenness of her boy's
death and the manner of it added to tha
poignancy of her grief.
“I had a presentiment,” said she, “that
some calamity was about to occur in my
family. Several nights and last night I
dreamed about death, and was so impressed
by the visions that I told mv boy not to go
to Bowery Beach or he might get drowned
in some way. I heard him say with the
other boys” Bobert Smith, of 16 Filmore
place, and William Gillespie, of 285 South
Flint street, that he would go out rowing
and that was probably why I mentioned
drowning. My boy laughed and replied:
‘Mother, dreams are all nonsense. They
are foolish.’ I had some strange presenti
ment of death.”'
Robert Smith, who was in the Butler
apartment-*, said: “After the squall striking
and upsetting our boat, Butler went under
the water a dozen times and I rescued him
and put him on top of the boat each time,
but the strong waves washed him off. After
struggling for half an hour I saw a passing
boat manned bv four men and swam out to
them and asked for assistance, but I was
told that it could hold no more and that
they had been fishing all day and were
tired. I sighted the Morrisania next, and
swain toward it. The boat stopped and
blew one whistle; when I called to the
captain. It immediately passed on. how
ever, and left us to our fate. When I
swam hack Butler was under the water
again and I rescued him and put him on tho a
boat, but he was swept off by a swell frorl
the steamboat. I rescuad him again, biHi
shortly after, while my back was turned,
he disapjieare.l out or sight forever. I
struck out for the shore and Gillespie wAs
rescued. Gillespie went to the boat Mor
rissiana yesterday and recognized the cap
taid as the man he saw, and who declined
to recue them. The captain refused to con
verse with him, saying that he was in a
hurry.”
The deceased was five feet five inches in
height, slim and dark, smooth face and
wore dark diagonal clothes.
The Sleeping Men of India.
From the London Society.
Talking of "sleeping men," I was one da/
on my way to Dnolpurn, near Agra, and
when baiting to rest our horse.; heard casu
ally of a “Jogi” of some local celebrity who
was in a neighboring tope of mango trees.
I walked over to the sacred shade and there,
standing upright against a pillar of rough
masonry, was a fakir. Like all three saint I J
personages, lie was extremely dirty. His
hair, worked up into rope-ends with grwj"<
and dust, hung nearly to his waist; hlabody,
stark naked, was (tainted with a gray pig’
nirnt; but, to exaggerate the skeleton idt'Ui
the ribs, chest,bone* and ankles were “picked
out” in yellow ochre. One eye was wide
open; over tho other drooped a paralyzed
eyelid. The mouth was wide ojien and out
of a corner were sprouting several blades p*
corn. His hands were clinched and his nans.
I was told, wore growing through the pain's
of his hands. He hnd liecn, moreover-*
am still only quoting that was said —in the
“trance” in'which I saw him for two montus.
In spite of all that I have read and heat 1 *
about these ecstatic Jogls, I ventured to i*
skeptical. But I offered an oblation of cop
per coins at the holy man’s shrine, round
which, ih pious assemblage, stood a qu* l: ‘
tity of other offerings in kind —“little du*
of wheat and oil.” He may have been au
impostor, but it struck me as a very dreart
form of imposition indeed. All alone them
under the dusty trees, with the shrilling''
the kites in one's ears all day long, any *
nigut the dismal company of ribalu jacks'* I