Newspaper Page Text
miss _ R A KTO - N ’-
"THi CARF.IA3S WILL. CALL AT
HALF-PAST SEVEN.”
From the Xetc York Tribune.
"By jove, old man, this is luck! I haven't
seen you for a long time, though I m set
your ex-fidus Achates, Jack Olmsted,
often enough ?” What is the trouble be
tween you two, anyway?"
“Do you mean to say that you’ve never
heard about that little unpleasantness,
Dick?’’ asked Bob Ferrers.
“Never. Girl in the oase, I suppose. Tell
me about it, wont you! That is, if you
may. No I’ve nothing to do. How
could Ibe occupied here* For unparalleled
loneliness, commeud me to a summer hotel,
where one is a stranger to all tne other peo
ple, and the o;ber people are all intimate."
"But you know some of the crowd here;
in fact the leading characters of my story,
Eunice Barton a id Olmsted."
“Olmsted is well enough, but he’s with
the Thorpes all the time, and I don’t like
them. As for the little Barton girl, ugnl
she'd take first prize in an ugly woman
show.
" She isn't good looking, I’ll admit; but
she’s a good little soul, retiring, modest, and
all that. My chief objection to her is that
she is a Barton, and the Bartons are such
uncommonly vulgar upstarts.”
i'ersoral gossip in publio places is some
thing worse than folly; it is a orime. While
Dick Van and Ferrers were discussing her
alfairs, Eunice Barton sat in a vine-clad
summer home, within ten feet of them,
t-upposing that the men would walk on, she
kept perfectly quiet. Their words hurt her.
The truth is apt to hurt. It was small com
fort to be called a "good little soul." She
knew that she was homely, and her heart
r.c' ed at the knowledge.
Pretty women cannot sympathise with
her. They do not know what it is to be
shuuued by men or accorded a word now
and then too obviously from pity. They
caunot realize that to the poor "wall
Hover" a ball room is a place of humilation
and torture.
Had Eunice Burtou pleased herself, she
would have lived the life of a recluse; but
her family could not understand her dis
taste for society. Bne was the only ohiid,
and to them her lack of beauty was nut ap
parent. The Bartons lived in a rented
house, and Pined in the front room of the
basement. They had risen above horse-hair
sofas, but they had succum! ed to the evil
influence of figured cotton-back plush.
Their ideas of decorative art excluded
samplers, but a wax vase with wax flowers
be eath a bell glass was to them a thing of
beauty. Any and every form of entertain
ment was a "party” to them. They had
heard of “five o’clock leas,” t ut disapproved
of such functions. "Tea at 6 o’clock, as we
always have it, is early enough for me,”
Mr. Barton was wont to say. Eunioe went
to church sociables with her fattier or her
uncle. Other girls went with young men.
Eunice eyed them enviously. The young
men never invited her.
Every summer the Bartons spent four
weeks in the country, and every summer,
when they were ready to start. Uncle Joe
Barton made the same remark:
“Now Eunice, keep your eyes open. Hay
ketch a beau while you’re away. Who
knows!”
Eunice almost hated her uncle when he
said that. She had heard it ever sinoe she
left school at 16, and now she was 25.
At first she, too, had had vague ideas of
some oue who was to come and rescue her
from the wax flowers and the sociables aud
tbe other things she hated. Then to hope
succeeded bitterness. She saw that men
did not even dislike her; they were abso
lutely indifferent. She realized that the
long ng for love, that is the curse of the
blessing of a woman’s heart was destined to
be unfulfilled, and she hated other happier,
prettier girls.
She was at the X—— hotel because her
family liked the place. It was noisy and
vulgar, but that they did not know. To
them it was tbe abode of all that was fash
ionable and magnifioe.it. Their names were
oopied from tbe hotel register into local pa
pers, and once they had eveu been printed
in a New York daily. Mrs. Barton bought
numbers of these precious papers and oeut
some to friends; others she kept in a trunk,
with her love letters from Mr. Barton,
Eunice’s first shoes, and other similar
treasures.
Eunice, sitting in tbe summer house, had
been thinking over these things. The con
versation she overheard was but a crowning
torture.
A convenient bench tempted Vane and
Ferrers. They sat down, lit their cigars,
ar.d continued their critioism of the Bar
tons. It was too iace to retreat, so Eunice
was forced to listen.
‘’ihose Bartons a e wor3o than stupid,”
said Ferrers, "but to do them justice, if
they are insufferably aggressive, it's all for
Eunice. How they push that girl forward!
Throw her at a fellow’s head, you know.
That’s why Olmstead aud I are out.”
"Great Scott! You don’t mean to say
you quarreled about Eunice Barton!”
Vane laughed as he spoke, and to Eunico
the laugh seemed infinitely worse than
words. It was so scornful aud contemptu
ous.
“Yes, it was about Eunice, indirectly.
You remember May Seymour’s wedding?
You taat every one in our church knew it
wes to take place Tuesday, Feb. 9. long be
fore the cards were out. Well, early in
January Mrs. 3arton wrote to Olmsted say
ing that she wished to see him about some
thing particular. Of course he went, and
what do you suppose the something was?
She wanted him to escort Eunice to May’s
wedding. She told him she would engage
a carriage which would call for him on the
evening in question. How was that for an
ambitious mamma? Jack is quite the
bright, particular star of our church, aud
he’s pretty well lixed financially. All the
mothers run after him, but no one had ever
been quito so open about it as Mrs. Barton.
Jack was taken by surprise und oculd tuiuk
of no excuse; and anyway he’s an awfully
good chap, so he said he’d be delighted to
oblige ber. Then he went out and kicked
himself.
“The day Miss Seymour’s invitations
came out Jack received a second note from
Mrs. Barton reminding him of his engage
ment to accompany Eunice. Poor boy, he
wasn’t likely to forget it! She added a
postscript to say that a carnage had been
ordered and that it would call for him at
7:30 o’clock. Jack wrote and thanked her.
“The Saturday preceding Feb. !) Jack
met Mr. Barton downtown. You know old
Bartou, pompous aud condescending to
every one, including bis superiors. He
shook hands with Jaok. ‘By the way,’ said
be, ‘my wife told me to tell you, if I saw
you, that a carriage has been ordered to
lake you aud Eunice to Miss Seymour’s
wedding. It will call for you at 7:3oo’clock.
Be punctual, my boy, be punctual.’
“Sunday morning on his way to church
Eunice herself stopped him. She seemed
embarrassed. Finally she blurted out that
Jack was very kind to act as her escort, but
that if he did not wish to he need not. She
said she felt mortified that her mother
should have asked him. Jack is a gentle
man, so he told a lie. He said that, even if
Mrs. Barton bad not suggested it, be had
intended asking her to go witn him. The
ugly duckling turned the color of a boiled
lobster and tuauked him so gratefully that
he, in turn,thanked buaveu be had fibbed.
Then Eunice went on:
“ ‘Mamma told me to tell you that she’d
B§nd a carriage for you and then you’re to
come for me. The carriage will call at 7:30
o'clock.’ Jack kept his face straight, but
fied as soon as possible. After church he
saw Eunice's uncle bearing down on him.
Perhaps you’ve met her uncle? No? Well,
he’s a genial, jovial old person, illiterate and
vulgar. Hej slapped Olmsted on the back
and chuckled. He’s particularly m awful
w hen he chuckles.
‘“Well, ray boy, going to take the little
gal out, en? 81y dog! Young folks will be
young folks. Te-be-he!’ With one of his
maddening chuckles he poked Jack in the
riba, ‘There’s a kerridge been ordered,'
•aid lie; ‘mind you behave now, you and
the little gal in the kerridge. Te-he-he!
No nonsense, eh! The kerridge ’ll call at
7:30 o’clock.’ Another pjfce la iho ribs, an
other chuckle, and he uaddled away.
“Poor Jack waited for the otter Bartons
to get away before he loft the church. Mrs.
Barton saw him, but was too far away to
speak, so she motioned with her lips, and
Jack knew she was saying: "Don’t forget;
the carriage wid call at half-past seven.’
"When she had disappeared Jack turned
to go, but he saw the sextoa coming toward
him. Ever see our sexton! heshufiles and
talks in a whisper, and he’d make you think
of funerals eveu if he didn’t combine an un
dertakiug establishment with the livery
stable he runs. He seemed to have some
weighty matter on his mind as he ap
proached. He was more mysterious than
usual. He looked around suspioiously to
see if any one was watching or listening.
The i he put one finger on his lips and
winked at Jack.
“ ‘P’raps you know whv I wjshto see you
sir!’ said he.
*" ‘No, I don’t,' said Jack.
" ‘Well, it’s just this way, sir. A certain
lady, to speak plainly, it’s Mrs. Barton, sir,
has engaged a carriage of me for naxt
Tuesday evening. She’s going to send it
for you at half-past seven. She feared she
might not see you herself so asked me to
tell you. The carriage will call at half
past seven. Good day, sir.'
“Sack felt like cursing the carriage, but
he didn't. A lot of us fellows were
in his room that evening, and he
was so annoyed at the Barton tactics that
be told us the whole story. He did not
realize that he was doing a foolish thing
then, but he did the next Tuesday morning,
for when he entered his oflioe over a hun
dred postal cards lay >a his desk. On every
card he read the hated words: 'Thecarriage
will call at 7:30 o’clock.’ Then there we. e
pictures of a couple, presumably Eunioe
and himself, getting into a carnage or get
ting out. One card was labeled "The Bo
suit,’ and there was Eunice again with her
hand in Jack's, and her uncle Joe, as a fat
cherub, hovering over them aud saying :
"Bless you, my children.’
"There's nothing more to tell, except that
he took Eunice to the wedding, and was as
kind and attentive as possible to her. But
he has avoided the Bartons ever since, and
he’ll kill the man t at says to him: "The
carriage will call at 7:30.’
"But Bob, in spite of the length of your
story, you haven’t explained why you and
Olmsted quarreled,” said Vane.
“O, it was a mere trifle. I sent the
postals and he found it out.”
‘‘ls that all? The ending is common
place. You led me to expect a tragic de
nouement. Hullo! It’s almost dinner time.
We may a9 well go back to the hotel.”
The two men strolled away, quite uncon
scious that in the summer house homely
little Eunice Barton was crying as though
her heart would break. So, that was tbe
way men spoke of her. What hurt her
most was to know that Olmsted had Had to
her. It had always been a com
fort to think that once someone
had actually wanted to take her
out. Without realizing it. she had made a
hero of the only man that ha i ever shown
her any attention. She felt that she o uld
never again faoe him or any other men that
knew the story. She ha 1 received the
most orushing blow ever dealt her in h>r
life that had been fhade up of slights
and humiliation. The intensity of shame
overpowered her. She could not reason
caltuly. What whs the use of living, auy
way, when there was nothing to live for?
She wasn’t merely horoeiy, she was stupid,
she had no talents, nothing to atoue for her
lack of beauty. People ridiculed her. Ridi
cule is harder to bear thau anything else.
The world was harsh and cruel. She nated
every one, and most of ail hersolf.
"I wonder if homely people go to heaven?”
she murmured.
That night Dick Vane came up to Ferrers,
in the office of the X hotel.
“Say, old man, where’s Olmstoad!” said
he; “I want to chaff him about that story
you told me.”
“For heaven’s sake, hush your infernal
tongue. Haven t you heard? Mis 1 ; Barton
was in the summer house this afternoon.
She heard everything we said, and ”
“And what?” asked Vane, thoroughly
shocked at the news.
‘‘And somo one saw her leave the sum
mer house and—aud walk toward the lake.
And they have only just recovered her
dead bedy.”
Ferrers’voice rose as he spoke; his faoo
was ghastly in its pallor. He paused a
moment, then orled, fiercely: “Damn you,
is the denouement tragic enough, now ?"
AUNT TABITHA’3 LEGACIES.
How She Disposed of Them While Yet
In the Band of the Diving.
From the Washington Star.
Aunt Tabitha Bobbins had always said
that she didn’t approve of the conventional
method of giving legaoies.
“My dear,” she used to say to one intimate
friend or another, "I can assure you that I
will never give people an opoortunity to
fight for my little possessions after I am
dead. In nine cases out of ten when any
body dies there is more or less of a struggle
among the surviving relatives for whatever
personal i elongiugs may be left behind to
be divided up. And Inasmuch as the claim
ant with the least delicaoy of feeling makes
the first grab, the consequence usually is
that whatever is best falls into the
hands of the individual whom the defunct
would least have cared to benefit. My ob
servation has been that in such a case there
is always a grabber at hand to gobble
things, aud the others are obliged to be con
tent with whatever may bo left. In my
own family there is a woman who hus al
ways made a business of grabbing in this
fashion whenever a relation gave up the
ghost. Ou suoh occasions she has made it
a rule to be first on the scene, assisting with
the last ceremonies and incidentally gath
ering in whatever was most valuable. Asa
result she now owns practically all of the
jewelry and old silverware that has come
down through the inheritance of genera
tions of our kinsfolk.”
Aunt Tabitba’s plan for preventing such
a thing from happening ia her own case was
a very simple one.
“When my time comes to die,” she was
accustomed to remark, “I propose to ar
range things in a sensible manner before
hand, unless I should bo taken aivay so
suddenly as to render preparation impos
sible.”
Precisely what method she Intended to
adopt for accomplishing this end nobody
was told, but the nature of it was recently
revealed. Aboutamonth ago Miss Bobbins
fell ill. She did not take kindly to being
siok, having always been an unusually
healthy woman. To her physician she said
indignantly: “Hero I have lived for more
than sevemy years with hardly a sick day
that I can remember, and to be taken down
In this way seems to me too bad?” Never
theless her Indisposition progressed so alarm
ingly that ai length the conviction forced
itself upon her that shelwas on her death
bed. So she summoned all her relatives,
and, after delivering to them a short lecture
on the brevity of life and the vanity of
human efforts after happiness, she prooeedod
to divide her personal belongings among
them.
“In this wav," she said, "there can be no
dispute among you as to who shall have
what. My nephew George can have my
silver teapot, sugar bowl and milk jug.
They are coin, not sterling. To my niece
Eliza I give my hand-painted teacups and
eleven silver teaspoons. One of the tea
spoons was lost some time ago, and I have
always suspected that hussy named Jones
who was my maid last winter of appropri
ating it. To my cousin William I bequeath
my portrait of my dear father, which is a
molt admirable likeness and accurate in
every particular, even to the wart on his
nose. My sable cape aud muff, which are
as good as new except for one tail ou the
cape, which a nasty dug chewed off, I give
to iny cousin Maria. Sly cap with the vio
let ribbons und real lace my niece Belinda
can have. 1 advise her to begin wearing it
at onoe and to give up pretending to be
twenty years younger than he looks.”
Following out this plan Aunt Tabitha gave
away all her personal possessions of value,
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, DECEMBER 11. 1802— SIXTEEN PAGES.
Insisting at the same time that the recipients
of the gifts should carry them away with
them, in re-pouse to p otests more or less
i erfuuctory she declared with some asperi
ty that sue had a right to have her wishes
obeyed when she was on her death-bed at alt
events. She did not propose to have aDy
squabbling over her things after her de
mise. This was her notion ot making a will
and being sure that it wa3 fulfilled. There
was nothing to do but to acquiesce, and the
heirs Anally took their departure with their
newly acquired property.
Now, all this would have been entirely
satisfactory it what was expected had come
to pass. But, much to her own astonish
ment, Miss Bobbins suddenly began to con
valesce, aud a fortnight ago she was out of
her tied and on the high road to recovery.
Her physician said that she could have tea.
So she wrote to her nephew;
“My dear George: Kindly return mv
silver teapot, sugar bowl aud milk jug at
once. I have decided to say in the wick
edest of all possible worlds a little longer.
Your affectionate aunt, Tabitha.”
To her niece she wrote by the same mail:
"My Dearest Eliza: Please return to me
by bearer my teacups and teaspoons. Now
that lam going to get well I shall need
them again immediately. Your affection
ate aunt, Tabitha."
George promptly sent the articles re
quired, but Eliza responded with a rather
formal note, saying:
"Ileareet Aunt Tabitha: lam sorry not
to be able to obey your wishes in rotation
to the teacups and teaspoons whioh you
gave to me. They were a free gift on your
part to myself ana I do not feel inclined to
relinquish what must always be to me so
agreeable a memento of you. You affec
tionate uieoe, Eliza.”
The rage of Aunt Tabitha on receiving
this note nearly occasioned a relapse. At
the same time it prepared her to a certain
extent for ottier experiences of a similar
nature. Niece Belinda promptly returned
the cap with violet ribbons and real
lace, declaring with emphasis that she had
no use for it, but Cousiu Marla neglecte 1 to
answer the application for the sable cape
and muff. Though Cousin William sent
back the portrait which bad fallen to his
lot, several other articles of furniture and
apparel were retained gently yet firmly by
those to whom they had been given. Borne
of these were very essential to the every
day comfort of Miss Robbins. Taxing
everything together she did not get back
quite two-thirds of the property she had so
thoughtfully bestowed. Tier rage has not
yet abated.
"My dear,” she said to an intimate friend
yesterday, “X give you my wora that on the
next occasion when I find myself on my
death-bed, after making perfectly sure that
ray case is hopeless, I will have all my per
sonal possessions carefully burned before
my eves.”
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF DREAMS.
Less to Do With the Future Than
With the Stomaoh.
From the London Teleg aph.
What the a t.ial scientific view of dream
ing now is may be inferred from a lecture
which was recently delivered on the subject
at the Royal institution by Dr. B. W.
Richardson. In the poet's view dreams are
visitors from the iron gate, or, as 8 :akes
peare calis them, "child en of an idle
brain;” but science is more prosaic aud
teaches that dreams may be. after all,
“nothing more than the common vibrations
of terrestrial media acting upon a cor
pureal vibratorium,” like the sound hqsrd
on a wire in tension long after it has been
struck by the mis oian. “Afl musical in
struments dream,” says Dr. Richardson,
“after wo cease to play on them;’’ and if we
bring the microphone into u-c we can hear
the dream. This is us near poetry as science
will permit us to approach in explaining
the phenomena of thought going on during
sleep, for the accomplished leoturer pro
ceeded to inform his audience that dreams
are all explainable on physical grounds—
there is no mystery about them save that
wbioh springs from "blindness to faots.”
After dividing dreams into subjective
and objective, and mixtures of both, he
went on to class among the first spociea
dreams produced by indigestion, pain or
fover; while objective dreams are those
started by noises or oi her events going on
outside the sleeper. This is a fair sample of
tho ruthless way in which scienoe disposes
of “superstition.” Again it the imagina
tive view of the significance of dreams
men of science protest, and will probably
continue to protest as long as there are any
men of science left. They quote the old
lady in the Spectator, who believed tho
earthquake at Lisbon had some mysterious,
but quite unexplained connection with the
fact that a few days before she had hap
pened to spill some salt at table.
Ferhapj the most practical lesson taught
at the Royal Institution lecture was one
which may assist us to know wlnoh of our
dreams are signs that something is wrong
with our bodily o:ganizatiou. As anile,
eald the lecturer, it is better not to dream
at ail. Dreamlessnossia generally a symptom
of allround good health. A child’s dreams
are invariably signs of disturbed health,
and should ne regarded with anxiety. For
adults it is a good thing to know that we
may be sure that our brains are being over
strained when our nightly dreams relate to
events of the day, and if we actually seem
in sloop to be continuing our daily work
this Is a danger signal wnich must never be
disregarded. Wtieti we feel wearied in the
morning very likely it results from dreams
that we have forgotten, and then 'he best
thing to do is to take exercise. Without
coming to any decided opinion as to the
supernal ural meanings attributed to dreams,
we can at least profit by these practical
hints.
Considered as products of bad digestion
dreams cauuot be reasonably expected to
tell us anything of a useful character or to
supply us with any warning, except one
directed against the continuation of de
praved dietetic habits. If it is true that
the sleep of health is dreamless, then it
becomes difficult to believe that the only
persons to whom visions in sleep are vouch
safed should be the victims of indigestion.
It is always a puzzle for persons of an un
imaginative turn of mind to understand
how the future, which does not yet exist,
can be supposed to have any effect on the
present, and it must be admitted that dreams
of warning are much harder to believe in
than the “brain waves” and "thought
transferences” which members of the
Psycnical Research .Society take
a. matters quite in the ordinary
course of things. There is a considerable
mass of testimony in favor of the power
of the mind to produce results atan enor
mous distance by some system of psychical
telegraphy of which nobody has yet discov
ered the secret. A tnan who goes to sleep
and dreams that his brother is being killed
by a wild tribe in Central Afrioa, and who
afterward hears that he did meet with that
fate at the precise time when the vi.ion oc
curred. need not fly to any suoernatura! ex
planation of the phenomenon. It is quite
different when a dream tells of something
wbioh is to happen in a tew months’ time.
In the latter oase most people will prefer
to join with science in attributing the fact
either to a law of coincidences or to a sim
ple delusion.
We must do science the justice to admit
that if she increases the gloominess of life
in some directions, as by her doctrine of
the struggle for existenoe, she decreases it
lu other respects, one of which is by aiding
in the gradual banishment of any confidence
in visions and omens and “weirdness”
generally.
Minks—Hello! I thought you’d gone to
Dakota.
Winks—Changed my mind.
Minks—Hut you said you wanted to get a
divorce, because your wife made things so
hot for you you couldn’t lire with her.
Wmks -I’ve concluded to Keep her until
that tarnal coal combine buns. —New York
Weekly.
Not a Remedy.—Mother (returned from a
call) —Why, you have taken a cold. You
arc feverish. Don’t you feel hot? Little
Ethel—Yes’in. I've been havin’ Johnnie
tell me some ghost stone,, so’e to make cold
cbille run down my back, but it doesn't do a
bit of good. — (Jood Newt,
NEWS ABOUT BIRDS.
MEN WHO MAKS FEATHBSED
CREATURES THEIR STUDY.
Egg-a That are Dangerous Explosives
and Others Which Were Laid by
Giant Reptiles Long A go—Odd Uses
of Hggs and Egg Shells—Feathers
for Out-of-the way Purposes.
From the Washington Star.
The ornithologists in eonvention here
recently said more interesting and remark
able things about eggs ad feathers thau
ordinary people have ever dreamed of. For
example, who would have imagined that
aay kind of eggs could be dangerous to
human life? Yet they declare that ostrich
egg- sometimes explode like bonib
euells. Not long ago Dr. Bauer at the
Smithsonian Institution was the victim of
such an accident. An ostrich egg in which
he was boring a hole for the purpose of ex
traotiug the contents had beooaie very much
addled sad tbe gases genera ed inside caused
it to blow up in his band, the flying frag
ments of shell cutting him severely. On at
least two occasions similar occurrences have
resulted in the serious wouniiiug of persous.
It should be remembered that the shell of
an ostrich egg la more than a quarter of au
inch thick aud extremely bard.
THE MAMMOTH HOC EGO.
By the way, the most interesting egg at
the Smithsonian Institution discounts the
egg of the ostrich in point of size, being of a
bigness equal to 148 bens’ eggs. It is tbe
egg of a roc, rich as Siubad the Sailor de
scribed. Though h-.s account of it was
somewhat exaggerated that bird did actu
ally exist only a few hundred years ago in
Madagascar, whence accounts of it were
brought by voyaging Arabs. It is known
tosoieuceas tile epironls. aud it stood ten
feet high in its bare feet, its leg bones being
as large aud heavy as these of a horse.
Many ot the eggs of this gigantic fowl have
been taken irom tbe graves of native chi fs,
in whioh they were buried.
EGGS OF GIANT REPTILES.
But, the ornithologists say, it would tie a
great mistake to suppose that the egg of tbe
roo is the biggest that has ever been known.
Most, if not all, of the giant reptiles of tbe
mesozoio epoch laid eggs. Imagine how
great in bulk must have been the egg of
such a creature as the atlantosaur, which
attained a length of UK) feet H orn its nose to
tbe end of its tail. The mosasaurs of that
wonderful period, which were actual sea
serpents eighty feet loDg and more, were
egg layers. Science is rattier iuolined to
think that such soa serpents do in roa ity
exist at the present day. How very
interesting it would be if au
egg of oue of them should be
discovered. Doubtless the eggs of
some of these mighty reptiles of the past
were a least three feet long, aud they must
have had soft shells, like the eggs of modern
reptiles. Presumably they were laid where
they oould be hatched by the beat of the
sun. One might imagine such a huge egg,
in shane nearly cylindrical and purely
w hite, lying on the shore ot ac: etaceous sea.
Presently it opens and out crawls some
such lnfaut monster as the st> gosaur, which
a few years later will have a length of thirty
feet, being clad in an arm r of massive
bony plates and possessing a brain in its tail
ten times as big as that in its skull.
THE MOST VALUABLE EGG.
The Smithsonian Institution, under the
auspices of which the ornithologists held
their c invention, possesses the most valuatde
egg in the world. It Is an egg of the great
auk, whioh became extinct about fifty years
ago. The value of it is nominally $1,500,
but it could not be purchased for that sum.
Most people do uot realize that thero are
other eggs besides those of hens whioh have
enormous commercial value. In England
so-called "plovers’ eggs," which are really
those of lapwings, are sent to the city mar
kets from the rural districts by hundreds of
thousands. They aro esteemed a great deli
cacy and fetch a very high price, the use of
them being for that reason confined almost
exclusively to the aristocracy aud other
luxurious persons. Being only about the
size of pigeons’ eggß a good many of them
are required to make a dish. Men make a
business of gathering them from trie nests
in marshes and wot fields. A vary extau
sive trade exists in the eggs of certain sea
fowls, chiefly the niurres and guillemots,
which congregate in vase numbers about
Iceland, Greenlai and, Labrador, the Hebrides
aud elsewhere in the North Atlantic as well
as iu the North Paoific. Fleets of vessels,
known as “eggers,” are regularly employod
ia gathering these eggs, which are
as good to eat as those laid
by hens, though* the Hash of the birds is
too fishy to be edible. Much of what is
known us “egg albumen,” used by bakers
and others for cooking purposes, is manu
factured from the whites of these eggs and
sent to market in tho shape of a dry crystal
lized product resembling fine glue in ap
pearanco. 1 hese sea fowls’ eggs have one
remarkable peculiarity. They are noarly
conical In form, broad at the base and
sharp at the point, so that they will only
roil in a circle. They are laid on the bare
ledges of high rooks, from which they
would utmost surely roll off save for this
happy provision of nature.
THJC PHAIRIE COCKTAIL.
One of tho ornithnologists at the conven
tlon spoke with high praise of what he Baid
was known in the west as a “prairie cook
tall." It is very much in favor with army
officers, who declare that it is the most ef
fective of all bracers after a too free indul
gence in stimulants over night. The pre
scription is simply one raw egg dropped in
a glass, floated In enough vinegar to cover
it. with a pinch of salt aud a dash of pep
per, and swallowed at a gulp. Referring to
the commercial uses of eggs it is worth men
tioning that a factory was established a few
years ago at Gloucester, Mass., for the pur
poseof making albumen for photographic pa
per from codfish. Most people have seen the
beautiful jewel boxes which are made out
of the dark green eggs of the emu. The
Japanese turn out a kind of lacquer ware
with a mosaic surface composed of pieces of
egg shell. It Is an old story, by the way,
that the Chinese bury eggs for a year and
then dig them up. when they have obtained
a flavor which renders them much prized as
a delicaoy. People all over tho United
States send freak eggs to the Smithsonian
Institution, which has several specimens,
each containing a smaller egg complete,
while others r-semlile crook-necked squashes,
with necks like jug handles. Eggs with two
yolks are not uncommon, and sometimes
they bring forth 4-legged chickens. There
is in Afriou a species of tree snail which
lays eggs resembling those of pigeons, about
the same size and with hard sheila.
BIRD FEATHERS.
Dr. Elliott Coues, noted as an ornitholo
gist, says that the feather of the bird is
merely the scale of the lizard or a serpent
modified. It is kuowu that all of the birds
are descended from reptiles originally. Cer
tain species of reptiles millions of years ago
adopted arboreal habits, jumping from
bough to bough. In the course of genera
tions some of them developed such feathers
as the penguin now posse see. Some of the
penguin’s feathers are hardly more than
scales, consisting simply of broad fiat quills
without any barbs, in fact, the penguin
serves admirably to illustrate the manner
in wbioh the scale was formed Into the
feather by fraying out at the edges, as oue
might say.
FEATHER BONK.
Anew employment for feathers has re
cently been found, the quills of domestic
fowls being split a:id quilted together for
making what is known as “feather bone.”
This is utilized as a substitute for whale
bone in women's corsets. Leaving orna
mental purposes aside the most important
commercial use for feathers is in the manu
facture of fishermen’s artificial flies. They
are oollected from all parts of the world by
agents who are sent on from Paris to pro
cure the skins of the rarest and most beauti
ful birds, it is the damaged ones that are
mostly made availab.e by the fly makers,
who buy them from the milliners and
taxidermists. Nearly all of the feathers for
filee are thus obtained from PYanoe, rep
resenting winged creaturee from every Qui-
ner of the earth, such as the scarlet ibis of
South America, the leaden : allied bustard
from the Cape of Good Hope, the argus of
ludia. with tall feathers four feet long and
bearing great eyes, parrots from Afrioa
and golden pheasants from Japan.
A SALMON FLY.
It is astonishing what a va-lety of plumes
is required to compose such a small article
as a salmon fly, for ex ,mple. Perhaps the
tail of the counterfeit insect will be made
from the feathers of the golden pheasant,
while tbe butt end of the owudal appendage
will lie formed from a bit of the red breast
breast of a crow from India. Adjoining
the tail, the hook, which serves as a skeleton,
is wrapped with a scrap of yellow floss silk,
and about this is put a yellow feather from
the huge-bliie 1 toucan of Brazil. The front
part ot the body is of black silk floss, ribbed
w ith silver tinsel. Next, to represent the
bind legs, it is necessary to wind
around the book the hackle
or neck feather of a cock, dyed black
while for the front legs ie required tbe
shoulder hackle of a guinea hen. This is
only the basis of the fly. for as yet the wings
are tacking. They are added with the
wing tip of the domestio turkey, covered
with the sword feather of a peaoo-k. A
few strands of yellow and rod macaw tail
give additional brightness to the effect. The
cheeks of the fly are made from the blue
wing of the Houth American chatterer, and
the head is of black ostrich feather. Files
So elaborate as teat cost sl3 a dozen. Of
course there are endless variations m their
makeup. Cheapo eof comparatively in
expensive material would probably be quite
ns effective lures, but they woul t not satisfy
the luxurious taste of fanoy anglers.
EFFECTIVENESS OF BURNT FEATHERS.
One of the oddest uses for feathers is to
recover women from fainting spells by
burning them. Probably their effective
ness for this purpose is largely imaginary,
tut faith in their efflcaoy is widespread aud
persistent. An ornithologist at the conven
tion mentioned the fact that sal ors make
tobacco bags out of the skins of the feet of
the albatross. They also manufacture pipe
stemsoutoftheradmswingbo .es of that
great sea fowl, whioh are more than a foot
long. Tbe wing boDe of the wild turkey is
used for a whistle, with which sportsmen
imitate the cry of the gobbler more accu
rately thau is possible with any other instru
ment.
The only bird’s beak that Is useful in any
wav is that of the roseate spoonbill, which
Is employed as a handle for fans oomposed
of the spoonbill’s own feathers. Beaks are
ordinarily insensible to feeling, but those of
tbe snipe and woodoook aro exquisitely
sensitive nervous probes, which, when in
serted into the ground three inohes or more
perceive the presence of a worm. The eye
of any bird possesses an optioal peculiarity
which is very extraordinary. It has the
form of an acorn and is kept in shape by
a bony cup or ring Burroutiding it.
Inside of the back part of tbe
organ is an apparatus for the instantaneous
adaptation of foous to any distance. For
isok of such a contrivance the eve of a hu
man being requires an appreciable time to
chauge its focus from the distant to the
near point, vice versa; hut wi'h a bird it Is
different. For example, a bumming bird
will see a flower a rod away and dart to it
like lightning; yet on reaching the bush
whioh bears the ilower it is able to grasp
the twig with its feet with certainty, as it
oould not do except for the peculiar ar
raugemeut described.
TWO OF A KIND IN KENTUCKY.
Charles Sullivan, the Blind Burglar,
and His Devoted Wife.
From the hew York Sun.
Louisville, Dee. 3. -The Luulsuille
alms house has just reoelved bank two
queer inmates. They are Charley Sulli
van, the blind burglar, ami his wife. After
making tboir atiuual pilgrimage over KeD
tuoky, selling load pencils and watches,
they have returned to tbe winter quarters
that have sheltered them for jeers.
The siulllvaus are a curious pair and have
had a strange history. They met and loved
ot the alms bouse, and ran away from there
to get married. He was old, blind and
foeblu. She was past middle age and as
ugly as a witch. He had just come out of
the penitentiary, whero be had finished a
three yearn’ term for burglary. His former
friends had died or moved away, his cour
age was gone, and as he did not care to
continue bis criminal oareer, he beoame a
paupor and went to the alms bouse. Thera
he mot the woman who married him. She
had been a pauper for a dozen years,
perhaps, but though well advanced
in years was able-bodied. In fact,
when the alms house was building she
helped in the work, aud did as much as
any man around the place. At her own
suggestion she carried a hod, and besides
doiug it well she has the satisfaction of
knowing that she is probably tbe first
female that ever mounted a ladder to do
that sort of work. Bbe lived on in oontent
incut until the blind burglar found a borne
there, and then she lost her susceptible
heart. She proposed soon, aud be accepted
her at once. One evening they quietly
slipped away to this city; she purchased a
license and they were married by a justice
of the peace. It was summer at tbo time
and as the did uot care to return
to the almsh use they spent the honeymoon
In a tramp around the country. At the first
sign of winter they returned and lived until
spring had come again. Then they went out
onoe more, and thus they nave continued to
do for a dozen years or more. Tney wan
der over oounty ufter oouuty, begging iheir
meals when they can, and. when the weather
is pleasant, sleeping by the roadside. They
are a strange looking pair, aud the life is a
hard one, but they seem contented, and the
woman is actually happy. Hulliyan is tall,
old and bent, with a wrinkled faoo and gray
hair. Mrs Hullivan is short, fat and feeble
minded. Hhe has no teeth and is the typical
pauper hag.
In his early days Sullivan was a hand
some, stalwart young follow. Ho was
famous for ms strength and good manners,
and his eyes were as sharp as any one's.
But he had been bred to crime and was a
professional thief. He used to loiter about
the saloons and low dives of the worst
auarter of the city, and made his living by
robbing drunken strangers. He was very
shrewd, aud was long suspected by the
police tiefore a crime could lie laid at his
door. He was a pluoky fighter and a sort
of king bee among the hoodlums and thieves,
in whom he found his friends and com
panions. At last he was caught picking a
man’s pocket. He was sent to the woik
house, and there the accident occurred
by which he lost bis sight. He hud been put
to work in tho quarry and was selected to
a-sist in blasting the rook. He knew nothing
of the business, however; be bad nevor
been there before, and the consequence was
that he touched off a (use before the other
man was quite ready. He failed to get out
of the way in time, and when ihe blast ex
ploded be was knocked down and nearly
killed. When pioked up he was in such a
condition that he lay for months in the hos
pital, moaning, blaspheming and cursing
bis eyes from which the light had gone out
forever. When liberated he did not mend
his ways. He was blind, poor and crippled,
but be met with a welcome from such
friend- 1 as bad e-caped the prison. They
treated him well, and soon, blind mau
though be was, he was able to get about the
streets again. With the wonderful in
tuition some sightless peotde possess he
could find his way anywhere, and It was
not long before a number of burglaries
were reported. It seems almost beyond be
lief that he could break into bouses and
secure any booty, but the polioe declare he
did. Fiually he was caught in a handsome
dwelling near where he had made bis home
for months. He was tried and sent to the
penitentiary for several veare. When he
came out his health was broken, his outr
age gone, and be was glad enough to seek
the almshouse. Htraneely enough, his life
had not ended, for there he met the woraau
who has been his wife so long. Capt. West
fall, the superintendent of the place, save
the “blind burglar” and his wife are not
the beet paupers in the world, but they
might he worse, and he is not sorry to see
them return each year before the snow
flies.
DRY boons.
ECKSTEIN’S
PRICES COT IN HALF.
Children’s all wool Cloth Roofers, 4 years size, worth *5. at Si !W.
Children's all wool Cl *th Knetfra, years size, worUi jO. a §2 75.
Children's all wool Cl th Keefers, *< years ei/.e, wortu t sl,
Children's all wool Cloth Roofers, 10 size, worth s>. at $3 25.
Children's all-wt>ol 1 1 th Reefers, 12 years size, worth $7, at $3 j(X
$lO Misses’ Reefers at $5.
$5 Ladies' Cloaks at $2 50.
For the Holidays, a superb linn Hold handle Silk Umbrellas.
For the Holidays, a superb line of Feather, Gauze and Satin Fan,.
Fur the Holidays, a superb line of Table I .mens and Artistic Linens.
For the Holidays, a superb line of Lice aud F.tnhroldoied Handkerchiefs.
Bor tbe Holidays, a superb line of Bucket liooxs and Shopping Bags.
Our Goods Are the Best.
Our Prices Are the Lowest.
Our antir* stock of Dolls and Toys to go at any prlco.
Our entire ntock of Holiday Articles to go a! any prioe
Our entire stvxjk of tin** l>i***Ks < Joo Is to go at any price.
Our entire stock of Rlack and Fancy Hose to ko at any price.
Our entire stock of Winter Underwear to go at any price.
Ladies' Cloaks Half Price.
Ladies' Suits Half Price.
Grand Bargains in Black and Colored Dress Silks. ,
Grand Bargain!* in flue, largo Calif -rnia Wool Blankets.
Orand Harvruins In due White and Fancy Marseille?* Spreads.
Grand Harfcainn in Silk and Flannel Hahnoral Underskirts.
Grand Bargains in Lace Curtains, Tidies aud I.aoe Bed Seta
Best Black Goods in City.
“Ours "the Placeto Trade in.
Special attention to our fine window display, Whitaker and Congress streets.
Oar oounters are loaded with suitable Holiday Gifts for old and young.
GIISTAVE ECKSTEIN & CO.
MILLINERY UUMUs.
Mils UK
French Felts 75 cents , were $ 1 25 and
$ 1 go. Our Dollar Felts go Cents. All
our Winter Millinery in proportion crowded
from basement to roof. Just received. ’ thou
sands of Walking Hats in all colors; also
Sailors in every shade. All Savannah come
here for Millinery. Ladies and Childrens
Hats , Ribbons , Furs , etc. All Savannah ,
north , south , east and west , must come here
if price, style and big stock is an object.
They come here and buy here be
cause they save money and get cor
rect styles, the latest always, and our
shelves are overcrowded with Ribbons
of all kinds and our show room upstairs
with most stylish and exquisite pattern
Hats, which are now sold to suit every
body's pocket. Just think, seventy-five
thousand dollars’ worth of Millinery at
your service, and we pos'tively sell on first
floor at strictly wholesale prices, and the
Ribbon Sales continue as before.
KROUSKOFF’S
MACHINERY, CASTINGS, ETC.
/'DnWHN ROURKE & son,4^b>
(Tgfrt—sSa NOVELTY IRON WORKS,
XSs£!i~*!-®IRON AND BRASS FOUNDERS AND
MACHINISTS, BLACKSMITHSAND BOILERMAKERS
THE SAMSON SUGAR MILLS AND PANS.
DEALERS IN
STEAM ENGINES. INJECTORS, STEAM AND WATER FITTINGS.
CORRESPONDENCE SOLICITED—ESTIMATES GIVEN.
Noa H. 4, aud U Hay and. X. H. 3, -A, 5 and G Kivor Gtraata.
SAVANNA £U Cr A.
13
