Newspaper Page Text
PART TWO.
CHEAT MEN AT THE CAMERA
Sawny, Falk and Pach Relate Their i
Experiences With Celebrated People. 1
Some Good Stories About Cleveland.
Poor John McCullough's Last Visit
to a Photographer—A New Picture
of Garfield—Thurman’s Grim Silence.
How Bernhardt Was Frightened by a
Pair of Trousers.
(Copyright, 1893.)
New York, Dec. 16.—Mr. Blaine was
the only eminent man who told me a story
while I was taking his picture. This hap
pened a number of years ago, when we
were not so far advanced in photographic
science as we are now, and after an im
pression it was necessary that the plate
be removed to the dark room at once.
Mr. Blaine went in with me and seemed
very much interested in what I was do
ing. I poured the solution over the plate
and his features appeared upon it.
••That is the mystery, you see,” I re
marked.
I could hear his laugh and see his bright
eves sparkle in the dark.
■The best explanation of a mystery I
ever heard was given b.y an Irishman,”
he said. One son of Erin asked another:
‘Begorra, Pat, an’ what's a mystery?’
Pat knocked him down by way of reply.
•Do yez know why I hit yez!’ asked Pat.
‘Begob, that's a mystery,’ responded the
fallen Mike.”
Mr. Blaine’s great rival. Rescue Conk
ling, took a very cynical view of picture
making. When 1 stepped up to bis desk
one day in Washington and asked him to
give me a sitting, he gave his Curly brown
locks a toss and replied:
•A picture, eh * Ask me anything else!
hut a picture, never! Other photograph
ers had no better success. Alexander T.
Stewart was simply callous. He would
not even entertain a proposal to sit be
fore a camera. When he died there was
a memorable rough-and-tumble scramble
among the newspaper men to get any
thing in the way of a likeness of him:
most of them being compelled to rely upon
their recollections of him—and their in
vention.
I made photographs of Gen. and Mrs.
Grant from the beginning of his adminis
tration in ’73 up to his death. I distinctly
recall one occasion when I wftit to the
white house to made a photograph of him.
•■Expedite matters as much as possi
ble,'’ he said, when he came in from his
office, “for there are eighteen patriots
waiting to see me who are anxious to
serve their country.” His method of
speaking it waß quite as grim as the
humor itself?
Sometimes the unexpected prevents the
photographer from getting a celebrity be
fore his camera. This happened at Lake
wood two days previous to the inaugura
tion of President Cleveland last March.
Both Mr. and Mrs. Cleveland were will
ing to grant the favor I asked, and the
nurse and Miss Ruth were accordingly
sent for. “L fear you will find the nurse
a little suspicious.” Mr. Cleveland said.
The nurse came in promptly, but without
Ruth. She put her foot down, as women
will sometimes, and declared:
•‘She shall not have her picture taken
to-day. If she should, Mr. Cleveland wiU
never live to be inaugurated.” That
settled it; for the will of Ruth’s custodian
was law in that household. Then I
turned to Mr. Cleveland and asked him to
sit for me. ,
•Well," he said in his calm way, “you
photographers bother me a great deal and
5 do not care much about having my pic
ture taken.”
“Let nie take you standing in front of
your house. Possibly you may not care
particularly now. but ten years hence
these pictures will recall pleasant days
and scenes.”
HThe idea seemed to strike him favor
ably.
“You may get them all together for me
some day,” he replied. And my request
was granted.
Only two persons who have my faced
camera never spoke a single word during
the whole operation. They were ex-Sen
ator Thurman, “The old Roman,” and
Richard Croker. I firmly believe that
Thurman could have remained in the one
position for half a day without moving a
muscle or opening his Ups.
The most sedate of photographers could
not have refrained from laughing when
the famous Senator David Divis, who
weighed 350 pounds, said, as his eyes
twinkled: “Please make me as thin as
ion can.”
Phillips Brooks was the celebrity
w ho did not wish his photographs put up
for sale. “You may send them to Har
vard students but to no one else” was his
command. Possibly this was one of the
reasons why “crimson’s men” so rever
enced him. But the students were not
true to their trust. They could not resist
the coaxing of friends who wanted a por
trait of the great pastor of Trinity to rest
upon their mantelpieces.
There are two rules which must be in
variably followed in order to make a
strong and true photograph. First, the
Photographer must understand the face
of his subject; second, he must know how
t" pose that face so as to bring out its
striking qualities. Sometimes a striking
view is caught in a glance: again it re
quires a quarter of an hour.
Joseph Jefferson is the same good fel
low when he is having his picture taken
that he is always. We chatted during
the whole time of our last sitting. Di
rectly he looked up to say, “When are
you going to take the picture!” “I have
taken two already.” 1 replied. “Won
oerful!” he cried. Just as he closed his
“PS I snapped the camera and cot the
best picture ever made of him.
G. Pach.
MR. FALK AND HIS CUSTOMERS.
I should call Lawrence Barrett the man
°f “iron nerve.” After having pla.ved at
a matinee and the evening performance,
he left Philadelphia at midnight and, al
though owing to a commotion on the cars,
he was unable to get any sleep, he ap
peared promptly at the hour of his ap
pointment and spent all day in posing in
'he character of Kienri, without showing
sisns of fatigue. It proved to my satis
faction the truth of some of the criticisms
of Barrett. His genius was the genius of
hard work.
John McCullough made the greatest
impression upon me of any man 1 ever
Photographed. He came to me for a sit
fuig shortly after he was released from
*n asylum. His countenance was a trag
in itself. In it I could see the iast
"Park of the great genius, besides, humil
‘ation, sorrow, desperation and the
s hadow of death. Shortly after
wards he died and, unfortunately,
”'l* priceless negative wad destroyed by
tire.
i homas Edison chats upon all sorts of
J?Mcs. He asked me n number of ques
uons about the latest developments in
Photography, and before I had half com
pleted an explanation his active perccp
®bc Jltettiiig
tion had caught the idea, and with the
delight of a school boy who has mastered
a problem in arithmetic, he fairly took
the words out of my moutli in telling me
what I had intended to tell him.
As I was arranging my camera I heard
a terrible cry of agony and surprise from
Lilly Langtry’s dressing room. All of
the attendants rushed to her rescue at
once. The object of her fright was nei
ther mouse nor man. She had attired
herself in a ball gown. There happened
to be a bowl of black and a bowl of white
powder upon the table. While her head
was lifted she had reached down for the
powder, and had applied it to her bosom
by means of a few swift touches with
out looking into the glass. When she
did look she saw her fair skin was as
black as that of a negress. hence the cry
of terror.
Black powder also figured in an inter
esting little anecdote about Col. Ingersoll.
I thought that if his eyebrows were dark
ened I could make a more striking pic
ture. When I approached him with the
bovvl he jumped to his feet and cried out
with oratorical fierceness:
“X don’t want to be made up like an
actor. I want a picture of myself, with
out any frills or furbelows.”
I explained that my intention was not
to make him look “handsome,” and that
the object of using the powder was truth
fulness, not fiction. Not until a friend
who accompanied him advised it would
he allow his light eyebrows to be colored.
His preliminary preparations to pose as
the hypocritical minister were amusing.
Gen. Sherman was very brusque, very
dignified, and insisted upon sitting per
fectly erect. Jay Gould was serious,
thoughtful, silent.
Mark Twain arrived in the dressing
room to find a score of chorus girls. He
drawled out in his nasal twang, “I want
to go home.” The author of “Innocents
Abroad” insisted on absolute realism.
I have found an almost universal good
nature among great men.
While I was arranging to take the por
trait of Emil Fischer, the eminent singer
in grand opera, I unconsciously hummed
a tune as I often do when at work. When
Fischer had borne with me as long as he
could he burst out: “For God’s sake,
Falk stop singing. Do I take photo
graphs?”cn Falk.
SARONT LE PETIT.
We photographers have queer experi
ences. Ours is a most excellent opportu
nity to study human nature, and making
a baby laugh is not the one trick of the
calling. In order to take a good photo
graph one should know something about
the sitter’s habits and surroundings. This
he must learn at a single glance or by an
adroit question.
Please look at these two portraits of
Wilkie Collins, one being done by an Eng
lish artist, the other b.y myself. I leave
you to judge which is the American.
In the English picture there is a
“notch” in Mr. Collins’ nose. It is neither
a Roman nor a Grecian nose and certainly
represented, as it is anything hut
a strong nose. The head has an appear
ance of emptiness, as it were, while the
whole effect gives the impression that
Collins is just as likely to be a dealer in
groceries as he is to be a great writer. I
turned his face a little. Lol We have a
Roman nose, a strong countenance and
the real Wilkie Collins—thdgreat novel
ist.
I had the pleasure of having my por
traits of Mr. Collins scattered all over
England. He was delighted with the re
sults and I captured him in a dozen differ
ent positions.
• The notch was a deformity which no
donht had its origin in some slight injury
received in early years. The least bow
in ichildhood will deform the nose perma
nently.
Henry Ward Beecher thoroughly en
joyed having his picture taken. To put it
in his own words: ‘•Whenever 1 have
ten minutes to spare I run up and have
Sarony make anew photograph of me.”
Mr. Beecher was impulsive and earnest.
By talking to him for a few moments
about a favorite subject I could arouse his
enthusiasm and then, when the fire was
still in his eyes and his face was lighted
up with expression—I snapped the camera
and got a picture in which Beecher, the
orator and preacher, and Beecher, the
thinker, stuck out at every point.
When Garfield and Hancock were oppo
sition candidates for the presidency 1
photographed them both within a few
days of eacn other. They were truly
great men. I placed my hand over the
lower portion of General Hancock’s face,
and said: “You have a fine head, fine
nose, fine eyes and fine mouth, but your
chin is weak.” He looked at me curiously
for a moment and answered simply:
“You are right.”
“You need a goatee,” I continued.
“I wore one during the war,” he replied
with a little show of pride, as he straight
ened up his magnificent shoulders. My
suggestion that a goatee be painted into
the photographs was accepted and, there
fore, a tuft of hair covered the general's
chin in all of his campaign pictures.
There was something of the noble Ro
man in Garfield's profile, in fine, the out
ward evidence of those strong qualities
which made him bear up so heroically
during those three months of suffering
after the assassin's bullet enterod his
back. Hu wore a slouch hat ana was
dressed in the customary senatorial
Prince Albert coat on the day he came to
the studio. The hat was held in his hand
while I was taking the impressions.
When I mentioned that I was done he
arose and placing the hat carelessly upon
his head started to walk away. “Stop!'’
I shouted excitedly. “Remain just as you
are.” “But a picture in a slouch hat will
not look very statesmanlike,” he said
jokingly. “I want it just the same. I’ll
make two. You may have one and I will
keep the other.”
The portrait which resulted was the
most characteristic of the man ever made,
but the ■•undignified” head-gear forbade
its wide distribution as a campaign i>os
ter. iam happy in knowing that Mr.
Garfield, himself, was personally pleased
with it.
1 shall never forgot the last photograph
I made of Mr. Blaine. Death was then
stamped in the settled gloom of his coun
tenance. He was so unlike the powerful
man .brimming over with vim and vigor:
I had photographed before. His flesh was
as white as his hair and his e.ye had none !
of its old lire and cunning. The promi
nent nose alone remained of the former
Blaine as if it defied sickness or even
death to rob his face of its distinguishing
feature Mr. Murat Halstead was with
him. There was a bloom in Mr. Halstead's
cheek and lie stood erect as a soldier,
every inch of his six foetßsserting itself.
One could not fail to notice the contrast.
1 did the best 1 could to put life and
health into Mr. Blaine's picture, but as
everyone knows, who has carefully ob
served it. my success was only partial.
It is to be hoped that the picture taken
on this occasion is not; to be the Mr.
Blaine who will be*perpetuated in his
tory.
In reference to Mr. Cleveland my last
photographs of him are much better than
my earlier ones. When he first came to
the studio he was very cold : he scarcely
spoke to me, and did not smile at all. His
manner froze my talent, and 1 could not
SAVANNAH, GA„ SUNDAY, DECEMBER 17, 181)3.
do him justice. On the last occasion he
shook my hand warmly and said, heart
ily: “How do you do, Napoleon?” Such
cordiality put me at ease and in sympathy
with him at once.
There is a great deal in this sympathy,
this magnetism, or whatever you choose
to call it. It is the kindred spark which
must exist between the artist and his
subject before truthful artistic work can
be done.
It would bo quite as extraordinary for
Sarah Bernhardt to be prosaic as it would
be for certain persons within the knowl
edge of all of us, to* be original. Bern
hardt has endeared herself to me bv call
ing me
“MON PETIT SARONT!”
My appointment with her was at 1:30
p. m. She arrived, after her proverbially
eccentric fashion, at 3:30. With her
came her valet and a number of trunks
containing costumes. When told that
auother appointment should be made, as
the light would become too dim to do
good work before we wore half througli
with our sittings, she turned te my assist
ant and asked if what 1 said was true.
He said it was.
“You have no heart!” sho cried out,
striking her chest dramatically. She was
imperious, inflexible; she demanded that
she have her pictures made on that very
afternoon. We complied.
In the part of Cleopatra. I desired very
much to catch her expression as she
stamped upon the messenger who brought
unpleasant news from Antony.
“But I have no messenger,” she de
clared. Someone suggested her man.
She caught at the feasibility of the idea
readily and n moment later the astonished
valet was dispatched behind a screen
with some drapery to array himself as
tho imperial newsbearer. Bernhardt pre
pared herself in the usual manner to re
ceive him. When he came in the bottom
of his trousers were visible below the
drapery.
Any other actress would have said in a
matter-of-fact way : “Take off your
trousers. They are not consistent with
the ancient costume.”
Not so, Bernhardt.
She was never more dramatic when
actually acting upon the stage.
“MonDieu: But take oft your trous
ers,” she cried.
She was very anxious to see the proofs
and appointed an hour when I might call
upon her at her hotel the other day. I
arrived a little before the time agreed
upon. It was with considerable trouble
that T induced the attendant to take up
my card at once. He returned to say that
her majesty wished the proofs sent up
with all possible haste, but that I should
remain below. Her majesty was informed
that the proofs and I could not be separ
ated, as I desired, ou my part, to see how
she received them, a dramatic treat I was
loth to deny myself. The answer came
that since she could not have the proof
alone, she would receive both of us, and
although she was in her wrapper, I was
admitted to her presence. She flattered
the proofs and called me “Mon Petet Sar
ony” again and again.
1 found Edwin Booth the most genial
and good-natured of men. I could never
associate the companionable, yes, even
the jolly Edwin Booth, who came into my
studio on so many' occasions with the Ed
win Booth, of Hamlet, and because of
this ho was the inoro admirable as man
than as actor. The portrait of him with
his pipe in his hand he disliked very
much. Yet he and his pipe were insepar
able.
Of all men, I most enjoyed making a
portrait of Edwin Forrest. His own
magnetism and vigorous personalty put
me at my best. Richard Mansfield is a
realist; he appreciates the limitations of
photography; and unlike most actors, in
stead of desiring to pose in a dramatic
fashion, he wishes to be taken so as to re
veal the strong characteristics of himself
or of the part he is impersonating.
Chauueey M. Depew has never been
taken at his best. His smilo is at once
wise and good humored, and, of course,
his chief characteristic. Asa sitter he
is self conscious, strange to say about
him of all men, and it is impossible to
destroy a certain make-up for the oc
casion appear in his countenance. If
he coula bo caught unawares in the midst
of a story, during a political speech, the
real Depew might be transferred to albu
men paper.
For that matter, this applies in a sense
to all celebraties. To catch the eminent
person in a moment of action, of triumph,
means that he shall be perpetuated in a
manner at once idealistic, and realistic.
That, of course, is a part of the photogra
pher's art. Still the eminent person is
as sensible of the fact that he is having
his picture taken as is tho ordinary mor
tal. Napoleon Sakonv.
THE PATHOS OF SUICIDE.
Poor Heart-Broken People Who Apol
ogize for Dying.
From the London Illustrated News.
The frequency of suicide in this coun
try is not only in itself deplorable, but
still more so as regards its cause, which
in the vast majority of cases is ex
treme depression. It is remarkable how
femperate and tender are tho farewells
of these poor people: "I have tried my
best, but I have got no employment;
when I ask for it I am told I am too
old. I can no longer be a burden
to my children.'’ Some of them again
are full of piety: “If I am doing wrong,
may God forgive me. My dear ones
will get on better without me. which
must be my excuse. Let them think as
kindly of mo and of what I am going to
do as they can; lam useless and life is too
hard. If there is no heaven for such as I
am there will be surely rest.” These ut
terances, however blameworthy, are not
selfish. They are interspersed with 1 ov
ine messages and gentle apologies, not,
like that of Charles 11., for dying so
slowly, but for dying at all. There is not
a trace of lunacy in nine out of ten of
them: there is also no romance—of the
French kind at least—but an infinite
pathos.
On the other hand, there have been one
or two recent instances of the “epidemic”
in question which arouse no sort of pity,
and may be called anarchic; the victims
are consumed by the soeva indignatio of
which Hwift offers so melancholy an in
stance, and on apparently as insufficient
grounds. “1 beg to curse the entire
world,” writes one gentleman (in chalk)
on leaving it. This, though brief, is as
comprehensive as the coinmination in
“Tristram Shandy.”
The Mud Wasp.
For centuries the mud wasp has built
its cells of soft mud; in the bottom of
the cells the female lays its minute egg,
building its mud home Just the size that
the young will be when grown. Before
closing this mud-walled cell the wasp
catches a suitable sized spider, injects
into its body a fluid that causes it to re
main torpid through the winter until with
the warmth of returning spring the wasp
grows, consuming the spider for food,
thus gaining strength to break the mud
walls and emerge into the outer world a
full-winged insect. And yet no mud
wasp from the beginning hag ever seen
its young.
THE WOMAN OF FASHION.
Tbe Old-time Christmas Fern Has
Abated Considerably.
More Common Sense Promiees to Be
Employed- Dress Lengths That
Make Charming Gifts-Gowning of
the Christmas Shoppers—Two New
Gowns and a Model Velvet Jacket.
(Copyright ISU3.)
New York, Dec. 16.—A genuine Christ
mas buzz is in the air. That period of de
lightful suspense, so dear to the children,
is at hand. Everybody is busy, buying
presents. It is easier to buy them this
year, it would seem. For a fortnight or
more ago, the shops put on an especially
inviting look; and those who entered in
search of gifts found the counters laid
out with fresh, pretty little trifles that
were almost irresistible. They say that
this year more economy will be practiced;
that there wiU be less expenditure of
lucre and much more of loving thought.
This would account for tho multiplicity
of these small things, and it would also
bring great comfort to those thoughtful
souls who are really anxious to remember
all their dear friends and acquaintances,
but whose purses refuse to co-operate
in the work of love. So many lists of
suitable presents had already appeared
in brief, besides the catologues of the
great shops themselves, that 1 shall re
frain from appending any long array of
names. Only let mo say that, if you are
clever and deft with your tigers, and have
any originality, you will no doubt bt* able
to manufacture much more acceptable
articles: and the thought and time be
stowed upon their preparation will be far
more gratifying than the gifts themselves.
If you do purchase: however, try to
establish a harmony between the recipi
ent and the gift. Don't present the hand
some scarf which you bought only be
cause it was such a bargain, to the woman
whose house iscrowded with them already
nor an elaborate silver pin tray to the
girl that hasn't yet been able to afford a
cover for her bureau; nor an
elegant gold pen to the man who will not
write with anything but his old stub
under any circumstances. If you can
make your presents useful luxuries, they
are likely to bo more acceptable than
those that look so pretty on bureau or
table; but are always, nevertheless, in the
way. The dress lengths, both in wool
and cotton goods, which are in all of the
shops, make sensible gifts; and they are
coming more into fashion every day. One
generally includes linings and trimmings
as well—while embroidery with the cam
brics, and velvet bauds or braids with the
woolen lengths. But if your acquaint
ance is too slight to warrant a useful arti
cle, a bit of chiua, no matter how small,
so long as it is genuine, or an attractive
etching, will never fail to give pleasure.
For your literary friends you nood, never
be at a lost. to provide a suitable gift.
Books in neat, sensible bindings, give real
pleasure.
This morning everybody was busily
buying. The clear, crisp air soemed full
of pleasant suggestions; and the shoppers
seemed gentler and kindlier than usual,
intent as they were upon their errands of
thoughtfulness. I noticed a great number
of the short, fur jackets that were cut off
just at the waist, and worn with plain,
heavy skirts. They made admirable
shopping costumes, and were lightened a
little by the softer sleeves that were in
serted. A rod-brown skirt bad one of
these jackets of seal, and red-brown
sleeves of moire. Another was an as
trachan. worn with a neat black skirt,
and with black velveteen sleeves. An
other rather sensible costume was a cloak
that fell to the feet, made of a heavy
dress goods, of mixed terracotta shades.
It had a double-box plait back, and a
plain front: a single cape of green velvet,
edged with a subie band and green velvet
sieevos.
One bright woman passed in n coat that
was unmistakably but cleverly remodeled.
The scant back had been rut up in three
places, and wide V's of black moire hud
been inserted, so that a pretty and full
effect was given to it. A full moire cape
had also been added. There were some
ludicrous attempts to making last year's
garments look stylish. One woman had
opened her sleeves at the top and inserted
an epaulette of astractian. The coat was
otherwise severely plain. Another had
moire sleeves of correct shape, put in a
plain, short jacket of scant skirt and
plain collar. A brown costume had been
freshened by a narrow V of astrachan, run
ning from neck to waist, by moire sleeves
and boddice ruffle in black. In fact. I was
surprised at the quantity of moire that
was in the streets to-day. It is certainly
particularly handsome, joined to astra
chan or the softer lamb. One girl sug
gested a land of perpetual snow
clad in her long, high collared gar
ment of gray krimmer; she wore a
flat, plain tam-o-shanter, of the fur, as
well. Avery tall blonde passed, clad In
a three quarter length mink. I looked
at her for a second in astonishment, for
the shining bangs of her hair were visi
ble both at the side and top of her head.
Had her hat blown off, I wondered? Then
I noticed a little rim far back on her head;
and looking after her as she passed, saw
that the rim belonged to a queer littlo
braided bonnet that fitted closely to tho
back of her head. Two sloeves attracted
my attention. One striped lengthwise
with lamb and moire, the fur wide and
the moire narrow; the other, the thinnest
bands of astrachan running, slantingly,
round a black satin foundation, in close
rows.
Two dainty dresses fresh from Paris
indicato that the tide is turning more and
more in favor of the tunic, the drape, the
skirt with godet plaits. Women will
not give up their comfortable skirts that
fit so easily over the hips, and give such
ample breadth at tho feet, without protest .
But the draped skirt that has appeared
shows no signs of tightening and
drawing back, as did the skirt of a few
years ago. We have grown so accustomed
to the width that admits of a free, stondy
walk, that the mincing gait would be too
irkso'me to be assumed again. And al
though the helplessness so inseparable
from 1880 was donned, as a garment,
for the nonce, methinks the true girl will
never submit to shortening her easy step
to the painfully small and insipid one.
But to my gowns-a pretty cloth in lime
green makes the shirt of the one, braided
at the feet with plain pretty device. A
princesse tunic, of rich dark green, falls
more than half way over, cut up at the
bottom into irregular scallops, and edged
with sable, their tiny fur heads appear
ing once in a while. She waist of the tu
nic is gathered into the belt and caught
with a bejewelcd buckle. At the front
the tunic is cut away altogether, show
ing a nile green bodice beneath, orna
mented with braid. A draped upper
sleeve of .Russian green falls over a
braided cuff of the lighter.
CHALLENGED!
To-morrow we begin the seventh week of our Great Sale of
new, clean anil stylish Winter Wearing Apparel at prices with
which WE CHALLENGE ALL COMPETITORS.
THE GREAT BARGAINS OF THE CHALLENGE SALE AGAIN
—AND AGAIN—DARE ANY RETAILER OR WHOLESALER TO
COME UP TO THEM WITH EQUAL FORCE, WITH EQUAL
VALUE, PRICES, QUALITY, STYLES, FIT, MATERIAL AND
WORKMANSHIP. HERE ARE THE CHALLENGED PRICES.
READ THEM CAREFULLY:
M Men’s all-wool Suits
or Overcoats; soldj
for $lO. All styles.
_ ... - . -
tfJU Aft en s Tailor-made
OO.U I Suits or Overcoats;
sold for sl4.
|
Cjl f Ift Men’s Tailor-made
UHIj.UU Suits or Overcoats;
sold for $lO. All styles.
MPine Custom-made
Suits or Overcoats;
sold for $lB and S2O. All
styles.
M Boys’ solid color
Brown Cassimerej
Cape Overcoats; sold for
$5.
(P 7 ftC Boys’ Black Cheviot
00. LU Cape Overcoats;
sold for $6.
Doing business Enables us to
of •••frv'w of MLL
COMPETITION.
A rich chestnut cloth is the material of
the Other, and one is slightly surprised at
first to see how well the rich, warm red
of the satin that trims it accords with
tho chestnut. The brown and red make
a most happy combination, if just tho
right tints are employed. The skirt of
this gown departs very little from the
plain skirt: it is simply plaited Into a
godet at tho left side: and opens below
over a red satin petticoat. The edge is
finished first with a band of old red,
embroidered with true red, then witli
a red satin band. The godet is similarly
trimed, and this trimming forms the
yoke of the plain bodice. The yoke is
cut in points at the bottom, finished with
the satin bands, and the ombi-oidery runs
out even into tho puff of the sleeve.
The calling costume is often such a con
trast to the shopping costume that ono
wonders how women survive the sudden
change. The secret lies in the fact that,
snug, warm garments are worn under
neath the apparently aeanty covering of
the caller. For she will often have noth
ing more than a small jacket over her
skirt, a jacket reaching only to the waist.
One of a soft, leopard shade, for instance,
has a skirt perfectly plain, except for the
big scrolls of steel that ornament edge
and one side. The bodice is plain, the
waist tied neatly b.y a dark green velvet
ribbon falling in long ends. The velvet
jacket is very tiny indeed, for besides be
ing so short, it is cut up, both front and
back. Into a rather deep point. A Jet
fringe finishes the edge. Its sleeves are
rather quaint. Just covering the elbow.
The full puff is gathered into the arm
above the elbow, and then a stiff, round
ing cuff stands well away from tho neat
cuff of the bodice sleeve. Such a picket,
while really inexpensive, makes a rich ad
dition to many a plain dress: and, if of a
serviceable color, can bo worn with more
than one gown.
Eva A. Schubert.
Their Call to Prayer.
From the Philadelphia Press,
New York, Dec. 10.-~Tbe first call to
prayer by the muezzin of the first society
of Mohammedans took place to-day from
the window of Union Square hall. Emil
L. Vabokoff, wearing a fez, leaned far out
of the second story window, which suf
ficed for a minaret, and placing his
thumbs behind the lobes of his ears, with
the palms of his hands turned forward,
he called out the formal summons to
prayer. The words were in Arabic.
On the sidewalk below were ranged a
few of the faithful, being Mussulmans
from the world’s fair. They drew them
selves up in a straight line, elbow touch
ing elbow, facing toward Mecca. Quite a
crowd collected, and about sixty followed
the Mussulmans upstairs to the hall. Mo
hammed Vabokoff then delivered an ad
dress. stating tho objects of the society
and tne creed of Islam. Tills Is the first
public mosque in this city.
A Yale professor is quoted as of the
opinion that football makes the students
sluggish in their studies. The T-oudon
Ijincet records 100 cases in which partici
pants lu football games played in 1893 in
Great Britain received injuries so se
rious as to require hospital treatment.
rftn Men’s Silk Initial
OUu Handkerchiefs.
Mbox of Men’s Linen
Initial Handk’ch’fs.
(P I TA box of Men’s Extra
01,0. Pine Linen Initial
I landkerchiefs.
98c
Men’s Pine Fur Alpines,
linen or unlined, all shapes;
colors: black,brown,mouse,
blue and pearl.
ft ftp Men's Camel’s Hair
Ouu Shirts or Drawers;
so and for sl.
ftfln Men’s White or Nat-
JOli ural Wool Shirts or
Drawers; sold for $1 50.
njRNITURE^Am^^ARPETS.
You'll say mo, too, after seeing our vast stock. All kinds for all people. Our artist
graphically portrays the astonishment of Sants Claus when he oalled on us. .Specialties for
the holidays. Make sens!Me presents. Nothin? better than good Furniture. The only kind
we sell, we had almost said "keep." We don't keep any. It is continually going. Folk*
will have it. Our prices have had a close shave. Our famous reduction ra/.or has again been
at work. You reap the benefit.
E/VUL A. SCHIA/ARZ,
125 and 127 Broughton Street.
ART GOODS ANO TRIMMINGS.
MEYERH&BW ALSH
Are Now Ready to Assist I,adieu and Gentlemen In Selecting Their Holiday
Offerings.
Celebrated Kid fSloves
Tortoise Shell Sticks.
Gents' Handkerchiefs.
Pocket Rooks.
Card Cases.
Infants’ Caps.
Infants’ Sac^ues.
All Handkerchiefs bought of 11s Stamped Free of Charge. Bring In yoar
orders for Fancy Work before the rush.
Store Open Evenings all This Week.
PAGES 0 TO 1.
O Boys’ All - wool
double - breasted
Gray Cassimere School
Suits, 4 to 15;sold for $2 50.
$17 T Boys’ All-wool
,(0 double-breasted Bl’k
'Cheviot or Gray Scotch
[Tweed, 4 to 15; sold for $3.
(PI ftO Boys’ All-wool Ex
u)!.Ju tra Heavy Black
Twilled Cheviot, double
:breasted, 4 to 15; sold for
$3 50.
fl>n ftft Boys’ All-wool Ex-
WL.JJ tra Heavy Gray
Scotch Tweed, double
breasted, 4 to 15; sold for
$4.
$4.98 SUIT.
Boys’ Fine Blue Tricot,
Blue Beaver, Blue Rough
Cheviot, bound, all double
breasted, 4 to 15 years;
sold for $6 and SB. See
them.
Fine Hosiery.
Elegant Fans.
French Embroidered
Linen Handkerchiefs.
Faney Baskets.
Fancy Articles.
Sofa Pillows.
Bureau Scarfs.
Mouchotr Cases
Japanese Table Corers
and Scarfs.
Larabreauins.
Leather Legging.
Sofa Cushions.