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2 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