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WAREMAN'S WANDERINGS.
Hop Raising and Hop Gathering in
Southern England.
How the Hops Are Cultivated—Much
of the Field Labor Done by Women.
Universal Trepidation Over the Wel
fare of the Growing Vines—Gather
ing and Curing: the Plumy Fruitage.
The Vast and Vicious Army of Pick
ers That Annually Sweeps Down
Upon the Hop Fields of Kent.
(Copyright 1803, by Edgar L. Wakeman.)
Maidstone. England, Sept. 30.—A trav
eler journeying through the magnificent
garden shire of Kent cannot fail to be im
pressed with the amplitude and snugnoss
of most of its country homesteads. They
are very ancient, stone-built and exceed
ingly large; low, but wide, with out
spreading wings and “lean-tos.” Centu
ries-old ash. lime or oak trees cluster
about them. Fine old walls enclose
shaded lanes leading to and from them.
The outbuildings are large and substan
tial. Great orchards are set about them.
The groupings are pictures of rustic opu
lence, thrift and good husbandry. They
almost cause the wanderer to long to
know them and tarry within them. But
a stranger not understanding one of the
sources of the groat wealth of Kent, will
curiously regard certain strange looking
structures standing near every farmhouse
in many districts.
They are round and tall and white.
Some have red-painted cones, and these
are in turn surmounted by white cowls,
shaped like an arched fan, their mouths
always opening in the direction opposite
that from which the wind blows. Against
gray and wintry horizons these odd
structures form weird silhouettes. But
wherever you see them you may know,
at any time of the year, that you are in
the long famous hop country of Kent. It
is to these quaint, and always picturesque
old kilns, or "oast-housss” as they are
here called, that the bops are brought
for drying, or curing, after they are
picked by the motley throngs in the odor
ous gardens and holds.
In all of England perhaps SO,(XX) acres
are planted in hops. Nearly one half of
the entire area is within the shire of
Kent. The system of hop-raising, pick
ing and drying is simple and interesting.
The plants, which are perreunial, are set
in hills one foot high, six feet apart and
in rows, as wc plant Indian corn in
America. These hills from being rounded
are called ‘‘crowns.” There are about
1 ,200 to the acre, and each one requires
from two to four poles from ten to sixteen
feet in length, according to tho variety
of the bops planted. These poles are of
larch, alder, ash, chestnut, and occasion
ally of oak, and owing to the scarcity of
woods in England, in themselves repre
sent a very large outlay.
Early in April the “crowns” are opened
and trimmed of the last year's shoots
which have been cut close to the ground,
and these ' sets" are used for propagation
in nursery beds. The new bine or stem
now springs from the bottom of the per
manent setting. In the open winter
months the hop-garden has boon dug to a
depth of eight inches with ilat-tined forks.
Shortly after the opening of the "crowns”
and trimming of the old bines "polling” is
begun. This is done by the aero or by the
hundred poles. The laborer’s wife aud
children lay out the poles while he makes
the holes with an iron "hop-pitcher.”
Women are solely employed In the next
process, called hop-tying. The puny
shoots must be trimmed away, and two or
three ofthe hardy ones tied to the poles.
This is done by the acre, and whatever
portion of the hop-garden is thus attended
to by one woman is called a “taking.”
For securing tho shoots to the poles with
out injury, rushes are exclusively used,
and these are harvested from marshes,
haughs beside streams or wet meadows,
and dried in a manner to render them
tough, by children. The women must go
over their "takings" many times, cutting
out sickly or broken bines aud tying in
newer and healthier ones until the work
is beyond their reach.
Then the men resume tho work. They
go over the “takings” as the women have
done, standing upon short rough step
ladders, until they reach the top ofthe
poles. Then “niggeting" season begins
and only ends w hen the hop-gardens are
in full bloom. The liigget is an imple
ment with iron tines, something like a
huge hoe slit into several narrow divi
sions. With this the "ulleys" between
Mie row s are kept tin clean of weed as a
twly plowed field, and the soil is con
stantly broken and pulverized about the
“crowns” that the roots may derive all
Possible nutrition, air and free moisture.
These comprise all the necessities of cul
tivation; but the alarms, vexation
arid anxieties of tho hop-grower are
only fairly begun as his heaviest labors
are ending.
No ono ever knew of an American
peach crop, good or bad. that was not a
half dozen times menaced by this or that,
or ruined by something else altogether.
So it is with the hop-vines aud hops in
Kent. For nearly two months before
they are secure from danger every true
Briton who quarts his "four ale” or "bit
ter,” is subjected to qualms and starts and
pangs through announcements of success
ive lmiiending calamities to the braw
bantling of Kent; and every hop district
of that shire is in perturbation and tur
moil indescribable. The “mildew” has
rotted the hop; the wet weather has
drowned it: the drought has scorched it;
the blight has taken the very life out of
it; the smut has smothered it; the flics
from which it can only be res
cued by millions of mysteriously
arriving "lady-birds,” are eating
its head off; innumerable insects are
preying upon its tendrils and body; and
even the pestiferous fleas have made
deadly assault upon its very stem aud
roots! Bulletins are posted at every ale
house in Kent. Nothing else is talked
about in every parish of the shire. The
Loudon market is “feverish” while the
hop is in its throes. In fact, all southern
England is solemn and serious until the
hop has passed from bine to bud and
bloom and is ready for the tens of thou
sands of hands that are tingling to wring
its neck for gain.
Picking and curing are the final pro
cesses. Perhaps from 80,000 to 100.000
souls could at one time be found in the
hop-gardens of Kent. Half of these are
from London, and comprise tho most in
describable lot of “human warious” ever
drawn together by a common interest in
all the world. If a field of twenty acres
is to be picked, thoro will bo from six to
ten "sets” of pickers with from half a
dozen to a score of pickers in each set.
These, ranged along the entire length of
the field, are each supplied with a "bin.”
The biu is a rude, low frame-work of old
poles, built after the fasbiou of an Ameri
can settler's log-cabin, about three feet
wide and six feet long, with elevated
cross-stakes at each end supporting a
stout pole above tho pickers’ heads, like
the “rider” rail of an old-fashioned
“stake-uud-rirter” American rail fence,
agaiust which the hop-poles and their
feathery, odorous burdens are rested
while the hops are being picked and flung
Into the sack, depending from the bin’s
corners below.
1 be pickers are supplied with poles of
hops by "polo-pullers." employed by the
hop-raiser There will be one to it set, if
the set comprises a large number of piclt
ers, and often on>- man will supply two or
three He U provided with un implement
cubed a "hop-dog.' With this he not
Why cuts the bines or vines close above
1 the ground but also pries (‘‘Prizes’' ho
will call it) the pole out of the ground,
! and carries it and its downy fruitage to
; the busy pickers near. Women follow
the pullers and stack tlie discarded vitics
for use by tho compost-makers or the
mills where the cheaper grades of paper
are made, and stack the jioles into tidy
piles against the next season's use. in
this way a hop-garden is cleaned up as
closely as if swept by an army of grass
hoppers or an all consuming fire.
in tho meantimo huge four-wheeled
carts aud wagons are gathering up the
hops for the “oasts” or kilns. The “mas
ter” usually measures the hops from tho
bins. Pickers are paid on the basis of a
certain agreed upon number of bushels
to the shilling—four, five, six or even
eight, according to the leanness or fatness
of the crops. Precedent old as hops in
Kent demands that he shall not have a
“heavy hand.” that is. that he shall not
not press together the hops taken from
tho bin; and an equally unimpeachable
custom will not permit him to pack or
heap the almost weightless stuff in the
measures. Scores of keen and
almost savage eyes are upon
his every movement. “Th ’ops
must ’hover’ ” in the bushel, or be
dropped in it as lightly as can be and
were the bushels heaped an iota above
their rims the master knows that in
stead of hops a series of strikes and riots
would instantly be on his hands. Fol
lowing him is always the tally-man who
credits the measurement to each “set” in
the “tally-books;" and the custom is that
the pickers may at any time draw in cash
to the amount of three-fourths of what is
due; tho remaining one-fourth to bo
forfeited should the pickers leave tho
master before his crop is gathered.
All sorts of signals are used to bring the
pickers together in the morning and
afternoon. Some of the old farm-houses
have belfries and bells. At others hand
bells are rung in and about the pickers’
quarters and camps. Tin horns are com
mon and the conch-shell horn is not in
frequent. Work begins shortly after
dawn. The mid-day rest as well as
quitting time at night are indicated by
the master or the tally-man entering tho
field and shouting "No more poles!”
This is in turn shouted by the polo
pullers ; and at onee scores, and often
hundreds, of pickers’ voices will echo,
frequently derisively, and always in mimi
cry, the order for temporary release lrom
toil. In many fields the pickers wed their
cry to improvised doggerel rhymes fitted
to the air of the latest popular London
music-hall ballads, and make much
melodious clamor as they are leaving the
fields.
Most experiouced men are employed in
the oasts or kilns. They get no rest dur
ing the season of hop-gathering, exeopt
from Sunday morning until Monday
morning. From six to eight small brick
stoves are constantly burning in each
kiln. Charcoal and smokeless Welsh coal
are solely used, and a dash of sulphur is
occasionally added, which gives the dry
ing hops a slightly yellow tinge. About
eight feet above the cement chambers en
closing the stoves is an open floor con
structed of strips like laths. On this is
laid a loosely woven covering of horse
hair; and u|K>n this horse-hair cloth the
hops are piled to about the depth of
twelve inches. They are frequently
gently turned, and remain in the kiln for
eleven hours, an hour being allowed for
tho change from a dry to a green “shift”
of hops, each of which consists of about
500 bushels. The dry hops are then
spread on the floor of tho oast, not only
long enough to cool, but also to regain a
certain amount of atmospheric moisture,
w ithout which they would remain brittle
and break into slivers and dust. They
are now packed in “pockets,” or long,
strong bags, holding a few pounds above
one hundredweight, and arc ready for the
London market.
Of the 80,000 to 100,000 souls who se
cure nearly a month's lucrative employ
ment in the hop-gardens of Kent, perhaps
one-third are Kentish cottagers and vil
lagers. The remainder are from the low
liest and one might say the most hopeless
classes of Loudon and immediate sub
urbs; although a sprinkling of respecta
bility leavens the latter in a few broken
down folk who have seen better days, and
invalids with lung and throat troubles
who have been told that tho country air
and a long “smell o' the ’ops” would re
lieve their ailments. But this great army
of pickers which each year lakes ixissos
siou of Kent, divides instantly and sharply
into three grand divisions.
The first comprises the Kentish rural
and village folk. These aretfavorites with
the masters. They include the entire
families of the farm laborers, the hedge
builders, the drain-layers, the hop-dryers
and all countryside folks;while from the
village comes the painter, the shoemaker,
tho saddler, the carpenter, the brick
layer and stonemason, and all their fami
lies; while I have even seen the family of
the schoolmaster aud the poor country
curate not ashamed to thus add to their
yearly dole. Separate fields are nearly
always given to these folk. Among them
you will find most interesting groups;
iusty youths, handsome lasses, lino and
rugged old men and women, and some of
the poaehiest aud prettiest children in
all England. To these hop-gathering days
have a bright, genial, almost social as
pect. When the day's work is over, as
they trail along the lanes and highways
to their village homes, they form won
derfully pastoral groupings, fitting so
character! qlly into the mellow and re
poseful Keutish autumnal landscape, that
it is a pity the near world’s metropolis
has no artist heart and hand to transfer
to canvas their marvelous simplicity find
winsomeness.
Another class numbering all told from
3,000 to 5,000 souls, whose guest I have al
ways been whenever visiting the hop
gardens of Kent, arc the London and
suburban Gipsy van dwellers. I have
previously written extendedly of this
class. Its members, living in vans or
house wagons of every conceivable
description, circle around and around the
outer edges of the great city; hovering
like birds of prey near race tracks, outing
resorts, and all places where crowds of
tho lowly may gather. lam glad to say
that while any dukkering and
dickering among the hop-garden
throngs is never overlooked by
them, that they always tome here for
honest work. They travel in their creak
ing vans whidh contain all that may he
required for food and cooking; pitch their
hooded tents or "whuuunel” their single
carts for additional housing; are adepts
at all the little shifts and exigencies of
out-door living: are really the best con
ditioned of all the “foreigners” who
sweep in upon Kent; and as to morality
and. common decency, which are generally
utterly abandoned in tho hoppers’ camps,
they are infinitely superior to all others
who come. They are quick, deft, silent.
They are the fastest, cleanest pickers iu
Kent; and I have frequently known a
single large family return from their sea
son's work with as much as L'dt) with
which to assist them iu tiding over the
to them hitter winter mouths.
But oh, that other mob that comes
down from the purlieus of London!
Sometime I shall write a story about the
pestilential lot. To truly tell of its awful
hordes without tho tender lights of ro
mance with which to search out and re
veal redeeming traits, would be to com
mit an unforgivably revolting literary
crime. Bestial women, meu more brutal
than brutes, with few exceptions, are
these. Among the exceptions 1 have
come upon the most interesting phases of
character met in all my years of wander
ing. In all the others no wanderer since
the world began ever found more bo|ie
lessl.v sodden or desperately wicked ani
mals in human frames No wonder the
masters herd them in the descried
sheds of their cattle, in straw
huts behind the hills, or in tented
■ amps that may subsequently be burned,
by the roadside as far impossible from the
peaceful old Kentish country homes.
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, OCTOBER 22. 1893.
I Their aid is necessary. Their presence is
1 a blight and curse. Whiiesuch are here,
1 it is only when you can shut them out of
mind and sight, that you can realize that
the air is full of odorous thyme; that the
J musk of the ten thousands of hop-gardens
! brings the sweetest of all repose, and
that in no other land beneath the stars
does labor and night invite the tired one
to such wondrously life-giving and ever
dreamless sloop as among the beauteous
hop-gardens of ancient Kent
Edoar L. Wakeman.
FIELD OF MANY DUELS.
Visit to a French Place Set Apart for
Settling “Affairs of Honor.”
From tho Chicago Herald.
Paris, Sept. 20.—Your correspondent
paid a visit the other day, accompanied
by a friend, to a famous restaurant in the
island of Ea Grande Jaate, opposite
Courbevoie, where almost all the duels
that take place near Paris are fought.
The waiter asked us what we would
order, jjikl as we hesitated a moment, he
added, “Perhaps you gentlemen have
come to arrange about a duel?” The
writer winked at his companion and
answered “Yes. Please fetch the proprie
tor.” Tho waiter rushed down stairs and
began shouting at the top of his voice,
"M. Martinet I M. Martinet 1” Wo. fol
lowed aud were looking over the estab
lishment, which comprised a ballroom,
several dining-rooms and the inevitable
cabinets de societe, and a number of rustic
bowers, when a jovial-looking individual,
just about 60, with a long, fair mustache
sprinkled with gray and trained down
ward, joined us.
“Ah 1” he exclaimed at once, “ it's for a
duel. Well there is the ground behind
the swing: twenty meters of splendid
ground, quite smooth and hard. Beauti
ful trees and shrubs; plenty of shade;
quite quiet and private, you see. Over
there on the quay, bordering the narrow
branch of the Heine, is where the carri
ages stop. M. Dehayuin and M. Jacques
Lebaudy fought there only the other day.
M. Lebaudy received three centimeters
of steel in the middle of the chest. Would
you like more open ground i Here you
have it. What beautiful air. How free
ly one breathes here. How inviting this
fine sand is. Last month we had an un
usual affair on this very spot. A duel be
tween ladies and smart ones, too, i can
tell you. It seems they were actresses.
One belongs to the Varieties, but I do not
know where tho other plays. Love was
the cause of the dispute aud they fought
like tigresses. Upon my word you would
have thought they were mad. The sec
onds were elderly gentlemen, both deco
rated and evidently rich. The girls were
naked to the waist and wore full riding
breeches. One of them had her breast
pierced three times before she would
give in. She will have to keep her bed
for at least a month.”
“But,” the correspondent inquired,
“you are not present at the duels?”
“Oh,” he answered reproachfully, “most
absolute solitude reigns|here on those oc
casions. All tho doors are bolted and
the waiters are shut up in the cafe. I re
main near at hand, behind one of the
bushes for example, to give assistance if
needed. My clients need bring nothing
with them, but their arms. I supply
everything except the doctor and his in
struments, of course. Two salad bowls
full of carbolic acid and water to wash
the wounds, bandages, lint, cotton-wool,
in fact, all that is required for the first
dressing. In a word, you are just as com
fortable as if you were at home.'But you
have not seen all. The ground I have
just pointed out to you would not do on a
rainy day. In bad weather these affairs
are settled in tho ballroom, which has a
beauthful smooth, even flooring as you
will see. Just like a salle
d'armes. It was there that
tho Mores-Meyer duel was fought. M.
Clemenceau, who is one of my best cus
tomers, will never fight anywhere else.
He was here a few weeks ago to settle an
affair with a deputy, but the commissary
entered by one door, my customer went
out by the other and did the business in
Rothschild’s park, where M. Clemenceau
had all the time he required to put two
or three inches of steel into his adver
sary’s ribs. When M- Clemenceau is not
here others arc. I generally have from
twelve to sixteen duels a week.”
MIXING MADE EAST AND COMFORTABLE.
“And what is the fee!”
“Oh! a mere nbthing; HO.'servicecom
plete. If it were not for the refresh
ments, it would not repay one the trouble.
When the affair docs not terminate
badly, the gentlemen often lunch here.”
“Then it is still customary to shake
hands and lunch together when the duel
is over?”
“Oh! no; that is not considered correct
now. Ono of the principals lunches with
his two seconds and his doctor in one ar
bor, and the other with his friends in
another, fifty metres apart. But the de
jeuner that is the most curious and profit
able is that which is given a day or two
afterward. A duel naturally makes lions
of the principals, who are talked about
by their friends, and when it has not had
an unhappy issue, one or' the other of them,
sometimes both, but at different times re
turn here with a party of ladies and
gentlemen and fights his battle o'er
again—in words. The ground is inspected
and everything minutely explained. The
hero is applauded by the men and ad
mired by the ladies, who give utterance
to suppressed shrioks and exclaim: “So
you wounded him, mon cher, did you?
Well, it was very chic anyhow.” Then
they cuddle and kiss him, and you can
easily imagine what a setout there is
after that. Thereupon the proprietor
hurst into a lit of laughter. When his
hilarity had somewhat subsided he ex
claimed: “And now, gentlemen, if you
will name your day and hour everything
shall be at your disposal.”
Blew the Water Out of the River.
From the Chicago Herald.
Toledo. Oct. 7.—One of the most pecu
liar phenomena ever seen in this part of
the couutry was witnessed by people in
the Maumee Valley this morning. The
terrific gale of last night blew the river
dry. From the rapids at Watorvilie,
twenty-two miles above the city, to the
Lake Shore bridge, just above the harbor,
people walked across the bottom as on
dry land. The cause was the direction
from which the wind came—
the southwest. It is not uncom
mon for the water to drop four to
eight feet when the wind blows toward
the lake, but never before has it blown so
hard that the river bottom became visi
ble. Thero was over twenty feet of
water in the harbor yesterday. Many
large vessels were tied up at the wharves,
anti soon after the water began running
out they rested upon their keels. The
steamer C. B. Wallace was making her
regular trip up stream last evening to
Perrysburg when she was caught half
way to Perrysburg and stuck in the mud.
Just above Perrysburg is a series of
rapids. The river is two miles wide and
filled with limestone islands. This small
archipelago was drained as dry as a
mountain side. In the pools thousands of
fish, of every kind known to the lakes and
many which no one in this part of the
country ever saw before, were caught.
When the country people looked out tills
morning they were astounded, but they
readiiy grasued the situation, and coin
meueod to fill barrels, wasbtubs, and
everything that would hold them with
fish In the rapids many interesting ar
ticles which had gotten into the river
above were found. About noon tho wind
mimed down and the water rolled back,
much like an ocean tide. This evening it
is as dead as usual, and the largest steam
ers on the lakes are going back and forth.
Son—Mast is auecelver'
Father <wbo ft. a Hula deafi-A tr.su my
boy. who 1* spixmiu il ... ta courts to hold
out piom.se* to lb creditor*.-Hard* are.
TITE GOSSIP OF GOTHAM.
The Unpolitical Anxieties of Grover
Cleveland.
Adventures of Fred Grant—A Fortune
in an Ostensorium and a New Aspect
of Van Alen.
New York. Oct. 21.—When it was first
rumored among a limited class of per
sons in New York that Grover Cleveland's
personal pecuniary affairs were not in a
flourishing condition there was general
incredulity'. It is well known that Mr.
Cleveland is surrounded by as astute a
set of financiers as over lived, and it
seemed surprising, therefore, that he
should make unfortunate investments.
Now it transpires that this very' fact is
responsible, although, indirectly, for an
unpleasant reduction in the amount of
the President’s private fortune.
When Mr. Cleveland was inaugurated
he was worth, over his liabilities, about
$500,000, less than that sum rather than
more. This con
sisted of real es
tate, unencum- E !
bered; a bank ac- ,i*
count amounting, "V '•*” n
on March 2, to some 'JB B U if 111.) fjv
*4.000; stock in a
street railway, and Ay .a&ligSiSe
of a snug sum, '□a
stated to be SOO,OOO,
invested upon bond Ar
and mortgage in
New York and Buf- Cleveland’s wash
falo. Shortly after inoton house.
Mr. Cleveland's election he changed en
tirely the nature of his investments. No
inconsiderable amount of his fortune was
so placed that it might .be affected by his
official actions. In order to avoid even the
appearance of evil, the President-elect had
all bis securities disposed of and the pro
ceeds invested in such a manner that no
official policies of his could either increase
or decrease their value. This was simply
following a precedent set by all our chief
magistrates, President Harrison having
done a similar thing shortly before his
inauguration.
But when the cares of his office began
to weigh upon Mr. Cleveland he found it
entirely impossible to attend to his per
sonal affairs. The real estate, for lack of
management, yielded no revenue, and the
stocks were not holding their own. The
President never owes much money—slo,-
000 would pay his debts and more at
almost any time, but the scale upon which
he lives and the losses which he sustained
through his investments have left him
poorer by a good deal than when he en
tered the white house last March. It is
stated, upon an authority which leaves
the assertion open to no disputo. that Mr.
Cleveland is worth to-day barely $250,000,
and his salary is being spent as fast as it
comes in.
It is to this state of affairs that the
whispers of a possible resignation of the
presidency are due. In the retirement of
his private residence, near Washington,
Mr. Cleveland has expressed his disap
proval of the present partisan tendencies
in no uncertain way. No secret is made
of the fact that Mr. Cleveland and Mr.
Gresham have discussed together the
possibility of Vice President Stevenson
being called to a higher office otherwise
than by a death.
J. J. VAN ALEN’S FUTURE.
That Mr. Van Alen will sail from New
York as ambassador to Italy is now a set
tled fact. Indeed, his agents here have
been making pur-
Mr. Van Alenowns
U/m f -u a rare assortment
" of sporting tackle,
[' fishing rods, guns,
* saddle bags and the
van alen. like. Then he pos
sesses pictures and
bric-a-brac without limit. The transporta
tion of these articles to Italy has been de
termined upon, and is a matter of per
plexity to one of the foreign express com
panies.
It may be of interest to note that Mr.
Van Alen and the young prince of Italy
whom Humbert loves so much are on
more or less friendly terms. The pair
met in Paris at a dinner given by the
Duehesse d’Uzes. This lady having al
ways maintained a sort of half mourning
in spite of her social gayeties, wanted to
have one dinner as a sort of swell interna
tional affair. One minister in Paris was
then away on leave of absence, and the
Ducliesse invited Mr. Van Alen in the ca
pacity of an American. There he met the
prince, at that time an inexperienced
young fellow. The two fell into conver
sation on sporting subjects and ever since
Mr. Van Alen has almost been on speak
ing terms with Italian royalty. But as
the Queen of Italy does not approve of her
son's intimacy with any porsons not of
the Roman Catholic faith, our ambassa
dor may find the Quirinal a rigid place.
To bo sure he can go to the Vatican for
the ecclesiastical halo.
Many persons having wondered why
Van Alen selected the Italian of all for
eign missions may be less puzzled by con
sidering how agreeable it is to improve
one’s acquaintance with royalty.
THE GRANT FAMILY.
It seems that Mrs. Nellie Grant Sarto
ris wishes her children to become out and
out Americans, and for that reason tho
English branch, so to speak, of the Ameri
can general’s fam
il.V will become ao
olimatized hero.
Col. Frederick VuSh
Grant is mainly re
sponsible for this. TTaJiCv- m
In a letter to Mr. \ j
G. W. Childs he Wpy
lately expressed a /
longing to have all
the family at home, j/f** —> 3%?*'
Moreover, Mrs. % /, ,
Grant, the soldier's '■v,
widow, is no longer /tJep i \ 'Vi
robust, and it is felt/' or f f CO
that her children J I U j ’ A \
and grandchildren J ' I r HI
should be about her * ] \
iu these declining
years. mbs. sartoris.
It seems likely that the Sartorises will
settle in New York, but it is denied that
an attempt will be made to get the boys
into West Point. The youths.are not
qualified lor the academy, anyhow.
Young Col. Fred. Grant is a remarkably
shrewd man of business. He has many
money making projects on foot, all of
which are turning out well: but he is, un
fortunately forhimself, too generous with
his frienus. He gives to every needy chap
who comes along. While in Austria his
back door was crowded in tbo early morn
ing hours by the niedicants of Vienna,
eager to share in a distribution of the
kitchen surplus. *
When Colonel Grant got back from his
lt he was visited by the representative
of a young lady whose uncle was a well
to-do war veteran This veteran con
cluded to leave ail his money to bis old
general s son, but he had a niece In the
fur wrest whom he knew little of, and
who was naturally worried at the pros
pert of getting nothing by Inheritance
front bet- uncle Ho she had her legal
representative in New York call upon
Colonel Grant. The Utter when he
rest bed Iters front abroad, was not slit
tie surprised to receive letter front the
eccentric veteran announcing that he had
made the son of his old commander his
heir. As soon as tho ex-minister learned
how matters stood he wrote a handsome
letter to the old soldier, expressing grati
tude for the mark of devotion, but declar
ing that he could not accept the bequest
for various reasons, although he looked
upon it as a very flattering mark of es
teem. The next thing was a letter from
the niece, thanking the colonel for his ac
tion. The uncle had made another will
in her favor.
A FORTUNE IN METAL.
One of the costliest ostensoriums in the
world has just arrived at the archbishop’s
residence from France, and will shortly
go upon the cathedral altar in New York
Q v city. An ostensor
ium is that part of
Catholic ceremoni
v KVj al plate in which
v\V fvr// th® blessed sacra-
.7'OzyS- uient is placed, and
, ///it is moved only
upon the most sol-
If ( a: pmn occasions.
Many thosands of
’ dollars have been
V\>SnV* expended upon this
'ri/llk new ostentorium,
'! ryJTVa which weighs
f about twenty-five
pounds, and is all
gold, silver and
gems. It was paid
for by contribu
tions. which have
been coming in for
a long time. The
article was re
ceived in bond aud
delivered at the
'L archiepiscopal res-
DJ/ P idence under gov
ernment soal, the
“ tVJ clergy not opening
it until the customs
ostensorium. officials had visited
the house to break the seal. The jeweled
object was found intact, and with its
flashing rays and reflections almost daz
zled the eye. All things considered, the
cathedral of New York is becoming one
of the most superbly appointed in the
world. Its altars are a paragon of cere
monial pomp, and the decorations and ap
purtenances are beginning to rival the
old world's edifices. The new ostensor
ium is only an item in a long series of
costly accessories.
A PHILANTHROPIC GAMBLER KINO.
William J. Thompson has so long been
known as the gaming Duke of Gloucester
that the news of his charitable deeds in
New York would be reeeivod almost with
incredulity Yet he
has given liberally
V to worthy objects
LI % _ 1 in Gotham for some
fegf time past. When
. V I cases of destitution
V I come under his
V notice he is ready
A ■‘vJ/ at all times with
yl\ -JxhL. money. He once
1 \ met in Park row a
'f starved old fellow,
4_ | who had been kind
/ 1 \ 'y to him in his own
C 1 \ / youth. He gave
' 1 V / S hlm a supply of
* w cash, and procured
w. j, Thompson. him a situation.
Thompson also likes to befriend young
fellows who wish to educate them
selves, and he lias been very generous to
unfortunates on the track. This man is
certainly the queerest compound that
ever lived—a sort of Mephistophelean
philanthropist. His yearly income is very
great, and the success with which he
defies law and order and slips through
legal meshes would make an eel envious.
THOSE VANDERBILT HOUSES.
The finest set of photographs ever taken
of a single structure are now on the way
to Spain. They go to the Infanta Eulalie,
and are of the
Spy# aces on ‘ av ’
MjLyC in New
BjHblit! IW husoand she ex
pressed great ad
... i- ’buildings and
wished to be
5 V ? '* '-' r/S shown through
VANDKHLILT HOUSES. Vf*
lady was here un
der the tutelary instructions of Uncle
Sam, a private visit was not to be thought
of. There exists a set of negatives of the
buildings which were made use of to se
cure the present pictures. Theyare quite
large and unusually striking, mounted on
“ivoryette.”
Superb as these dwellings are. how
ever, they no longer rank as the archi
tectural triumph of the city in that line.
Many a stately home now rivals tho Van
derbilts' mansion in magnificence, and
several at present building are calculated
to surpass it. The Astors are a noted ex
ception to this millionaire habit of living
in a palace. Their residences are costly
affairs, but invariably plain and unassum
ing in appearance.
THE OSCAR WILDE AGONY.
Those esthetic souls who have been
made anxious by statements that Oscar
Wilde will not come to America this year,
after all, may compose themselves. Mr.
Charles Frohman states that he will
surely be here early next mouth, if not
sooner. Mr. Wilde is to visit Philadel
phia and Boston, in addition to New
York, but he will uot make an extended
tour. He proposes, adds Mr. Frohman,
to make a study of American social con
ditions with a view to anew work on
lines similar to “Lady Wiudemere’s Fan.”
Shortly after landing Oscar Wilde will
supervise the production of his new play,
in which Miss ltose Coghlan is to star.
The visit of Wilde is another tribute to
the managerial ability of Charles Froh
man. Thoso apostles of the sunflower
crusade who decry the stage should be
grateful, at least, for the fact that they
owe to this theater Napoleon the pleasure
of having Wilde among them all.
David Wechsler.
Only Nine Hats of Napoleon.
From the London Daily News.
Careful inquiry has led to the discov
ery that there are no fewer thun nine of
Napoleon I. s hats still in existence. A
writer in the Vie Contemporaine gives a
list of them. Ono is in the possession of
Mme. Claltte, whose grandfather, (Jen.
Giraud, picked it up in Marengo. At a
critical moment Buonaparte started off at
a gallop, and the wind blowing off his
hat he did not stop to pick it up.
Another of the hats is in a little crypt
beside Napoleon’s tomb at the Invalides
This was worn on the 7th, Bth, and 9th of
Feb. 1807, at Eylau and it is the identi
cal one represented in the colossal picture
of the battle by Groa, to be seen in the
Louvre. During the peace which suc
ceeded the battle Gros was commissioned
to paint the picture, and in order that
the figure of the emperor might be faith
fully depicted, the hat was given to the
painter.
At the death of Gross in 1835 it was
found under a glass case u|>on a wooden
stand, and it was sold b.v auction among
the painter’s effects for 2,047f. ROc. to
Ur. Delacroix, who presented it to Louis
Philippe The latter, after the famous
second funera! of Napoleon, ordered it to
he placed beside the remains with the
emperor’s crosses and the sword he wore
at Austrrlitz. Of the remaining hats
one belongs to Prlnoe Victor Napoleon’
and another to the museum at Gotha. ’
The French government lias determined
to suppress two new and peculiar Industrie*
< me is a pris es* for turulag old playln? cards
into new in order to escape the heavy m*
The authorities have seized three such factor
tea The treasury has already lost teoonuo
through their operations The older trazle
Uinienovsted m . and hand gravtz a-d orn*
menu which the French use esui.elvny
The Object of the latter reform I* to stop Lhe
wholesale despoiling ofzucmvterlca.
A DOME OF PURE GOLD.
Ten Thousand Square Feet to be Cot
ered by Shining Metal.
Interesting Details of the Gilding of
the Dome of the New National Lib
rary-Hundreds of Ounces of Gold to
be Used in the Work—How the
Precious Yellow Leaves are Laid
Down—Their Brightness Defies the
Storm and Sunshine.
From the Washington Post.
Hitherto the great white dome of tho
United States Capitol, rising into the blue
sky like a Bnowy mountain, has been one
of the most conspicuous and beautiful
sights of the city of Washington. It is to
have a golden rival. The roof of the new
national library is to be capped with a
dome of generous proDortions, covered
with pure gold. Part of the work is al
ready completed, and a gorgea'is picture
it is. The new library building is but a
stone’s throw from the capitol, and its
golden dpme glitters and shines like a
young and brilliant sister by the side of
the white hemisphere that crowns the
capitol. A dazzling picture these twin
domes present, and one that lingers long
in the memory of the visitor or the dweller
within the gates who is fortunate enough
to witness it.
The work of gilding the dome is full of
interest. The details are worth remem
bering. More gold will be used on this
dome than on any gilded dome in the
world. This is appropriate to the new
library building, for the structure will be
the largest of its kind on the earth, cover
ing no less than four acres, while the
contract for the granite alone was $1,260,-
000, the largest contract for stone ever
awarded at a single time. There are
some 10,000 square feet to be covered with
the precious metal. Imagine some great
hotel lobby, like the Southern hotel at
St. Louis, or the Grand at Cincinnati,
paved with gold, and some idea is gained
of the immensity of the work which is be
ing done.
There are not many gilded domes in the
world. The Hotel des Invalides in Paris,
the Connecticut state house at Hartford,
and the Massachusetts state house at
Boston, are the best known, and yet the
dome of the new library building is larger
than any of these—two-thirds larger, it is
estimated, than the famous dome of the
state house in Boston. It is not hard to
realize, therefore, what a conspicuous
sight it presents, although there is no
doubt but that it loses some of its brill
iancy by being somewhat less spherical
than the great golden ball which shines
and shimmers above the Boston common.
Only a portion of the work has been
completed. Some six weeks ago the upper
part of the dome became enshrouded in a
huge bonnet of dirty white canvas. It was
the ugly chrysalis. Underneath the can
vas where the wind could not blow its
disturbing breath, a score or more of men
were at work placing the little bits of
gold leaf upon the metal frame, and pres
ently. when the covering of the chrysalis
was thrown aside, the dome stood re
vealed in all its golden glory. Now the
workmen are busy with the lower part of
the dome, below the balustrade. This part
of the dome is too large to be bonneted
all at once, and so tho canvas only shields
a’ section. It is a slow and tedious task.
The men will be six weeks yet before they
have the surface gilded, even if they have
good weather. If rain or fog comes they
will have to suspend their delicate labors
and wait for the atmosphere to get dry
again.
Under the shadow of the library build
ing are the offices of the government
officers who have charge of construction,
and in the room occupied by Bernard I’.
Green, the representative of the chief
of engineers, is a little safe. In this safe
are kept the precious packages of gold
leaf. Gold is worth at the mints about
sl7 an ounce. Purchased by the govern
ment in the form of gold leaf it costs
a&out $27 an ounce. There are2,ooo sheets
in an ounce, each a little less than four
inches square, but these 2,000 sheets will
only spread themselves over about thirty
square feet of space. With 10,000 square
feet to cover it it is easy to see that the
government will require a good many
ounces of gold to carry out the work of
gilding the dome.
“Gold has many curious characteris
tics,” said Mr. Green, “but the one that
serves us best in this particular work is
its extreme malleability. See how gossa
mcr-like this sheet of metal is? It is as
light as a breath of wind. It takes 150,-
000 to make an inch in thickness, but an
instance is recorded where gold was
beaten so thin that a leaf of it was 867,-
650th of an inch in thickness. It is the
extreme malleability of gold that makes
its use possible in covering large surfaces
like this dome. Otherwise tho expense
would be beyond the treasury of even
the government of the United States.”
"Is a golden dome a matter of utility or
mere beauty?”
“It is both useful and beautiful. De
spite the extreme thinness of the gold
leaf, it will defy the weather for years
and years. The dome of the Connecticut
state house is as bright to-day as it was
when it was first gilded sixteen years ago,
and the same can be said of the gold on
on the Massachusetts state house, which
is still untarnished, although it shows on
the eastern or storm side of the action of
the weather. In a climate like that of
Washington, where the winters are not
severe, a golden dome will practically
last as long as the building itself It
might be hurt by sharp pieces of ice, but
ordinarily the gold is tough enough, even
when beaten thinner than tissue paper to
resist tvear. It preserves the metal upon
which it rests. Did you ever notice ”
asked Mr. Green, as he blew a ruffled
golden wafer into position, “that on an
old wooden sign the place where the gold
was laid preserved the wood from decay?
Gold is a great preservative and so in a
sense, it pay*; to put it on the roof of a
great structure like the new library
building.” '
“Does it take experts to put the gold
leaf in place?”
. V.y? B ’/ 1 does Still it requires less
skill to lay the leaf on a rough surfaco
like the dome than it does to gild a pic
ture frame or oven write a sign. In our
work, the men come and get the gold leaf
from me and carry it to the roof, where
they are at work underneath the canvas
Opening the book of gold, each man care
fully and with considerable cleverness
manages to transfer the yellow leaf to the
roof without a wrinkle. This is where
the expertness is most noticeable He
manages also to overlap the edge of the
leaf already down with the new leaf
The latter attaches itself to the sticky oil
with which the dome has been covered
and then it Is patted down with a little
pillow or pad, and there it stays through
storm amt sunshine, never losing its bril
liancy and defying all kinds of weather ”
No attempt has been made by the gov
ernment officials to learn whether thev
are covcrmg the dome with American
gold or not, but they are rather Inclined
U> believe that the precious metal which
they an- using came entirely from Amer
ican mints. It Is beaten Into leaf in Bal
timore by a man who has achle-.cd quite
a reputation as a gold beater, and he
seuda it to the Library building pack
ages of twenty books, ea< a book contain-
Ing twenty-five leaves. Another tnU.n-st
iag feet shout the gold is that it is the
Purus, that can be used, -j w, nt> V,ur
tarsi gold Is the purest form of u
: l , h * !" jld u Ir-mg used to
beautify and adorn the greatest gilded
dome in the world la u carats fine. *
Surtsi ÜBEiijts
-^■MsSigg
SWIFT’^PECIFtc
! was enred some years ago of
inmy legby usfcfg-jjgg-p
symptoms of ro^^^ tan ,
PAUL W. KIRKPATRICK, Johnon City, T enß
T realise on Blojdand SkhTZl*Mes mailed frw fO
BTnpTppßcmoCoji^xY t ‘
Atlanta. r.
EPILEPSY OR FITS,
Cao this disease be cured? Most physician,
No-Isay, Yes; all forme and the worst case,
ter 30 years study and experiment I have found
remedy.—Epilepsy is cured by it; cured , not s,l
dued by opiates-the old, treacherous, quack tr el
ment. Do not despair. Forget pasUmposition,™
your puree, past outrages on your confidence nJ
failures. look forward, not backward. MyreS
is of to-day. Valuable work on the BubjechM
large bottle of the remedy—sent free for triii
Mention Post-Office and Express address
Prof. W. H. PEEKE. F. TV. a c-a q,
FLOUR.
Hot Biscuits
For Breakfast;
Easy enough to make
One pint of
Cold Water,
One pound of
Self-Raising
Flour.
Bake immediately
in a hot oven.
a
Railroads.
irtlipiii
SCHEDULE FOR
isle oi lope, MoniQomery and All nay Si®
SUNDAY TIME.
CARS RUN AS FOLLOWS:
Leave Bolton street 9:07 a. m.; leave Isle of
Hope s-? 7 a. m.: leave Bay street to, n u.m,
12 noon. 1,2, 8, 4, 5. 6. 7 and Bp. ra.. running
direct from Bay street to Isle of Hope, anl
connecting with the steam cars at Sandfly.
Leave Isle of Hope 11:15 a. m„ 12:15,1:15,
2:15, 3:15. 4:15, 5:15, 6:15, 7:15, 8:15 and 8 p. B.
Cars from l’hunderholt to Isle of Hope every
hour after 2:00 p. m. until 8 p. m.
Leave Isle of Hope for Thunderbolt at 2.x
and hourly afterwards until 8:80 p. m.
CITY AND SUBURBAN R'Y CO.
F. E. Laughton, Supt
HARDWARE.
HARDWARE^
Bar, Band and Hoop Iron,
WAGON MATERIAL,
Navaf Stores Supplies,
FOR SALE BY
EDWARD LOVELL'S SONS
155 Broughton and 138-140 State Sts.
FINE LINE OF
m • FIXIIES • AND' MB
AT
L. K. MCCARTHY'S
SHOES.
T^Jj^jgg
What is on Foot?
On the feet of most of
the best dressed men m
this town you will find
IDE BJ M. tt Si-
IT LOOKS RIGHT,
IT WEARS RIGHT. R[ojm
—FOR SALE ONLY AT—
THE LITTLE STORE AROUND THE GORNLfI.
BUTLER & MORRISSEY.
120 BROUCHTONST.
IF YOU WANT
If you want a DAY BOOK HAD*-
If you want a JOURNAL< *?A
If you want a CASH BOOK MA
If you want a LEDGER _
IX you want a MAD&
If you want a CHECK
■BSffiSgSg
WKIIDINUa.
Wedding InvlUtloiui sail la t 4
engraved at lb and
latest atylrs. WOOfrrf covelepwi
sslerled sleek of JXFordtr*
cards especially tor ,ucb ....
sent on stiiilloafton ..uitri iNd UOlOm