Newspaper Page Text
ft 0 )\ A rsj r 0 R L D.
i Few Things of Interest to the
Fair Sei.
Experiences Which Some Hostesses
Hi ve Had-A Few Hints About
Bathing-Life Made Tip of Contra
dictions -How to Make Tea Palata
ble-End of the Reign of the Bud.
'other Interesting Suggestions Gath
ered Here and There.
\n English writer says that the reign
f ',he -bud” is ended, and that in a year
„ r two nothing less than thirty may ex
,t w win admiration. She triumph
p\ ly fjnotes Plato’s statement that
woman reaches the zenith of her charms
forty and ends her able plea for the
old maid in these words: “The immature
■ ss of eighteen or nineteen has too long
been on a pedestal, and if she is being
dethroned the men are to be congratula
tion their sense. Most men, I believe,
become tired of the companionship of one
who babbles little “nothings,” or dis
courses crudely upon subjects which her
iind has been incapable of digesting and
classifying-” _____
While the post-prandial coffee was be
im- served in the drawing-room at acer
• in charming house the other evening,
, the jfew York Tribune, the conver
sion drifted to the subject of the vari
ous contretemps which had happened to
different members of the party in regard
to dinners. .
■1 had a funny experience not long
since " said a pretty little Murray Hill
hostess "We had a number of people
dining with us, and among the first to ar
rive was a man whom we had not invited.
I had a slight acquaintance with him,
however and knew that there was some
mistake, so I managed to put my husband
au courant with the situation. When din
ner was announced 1 found everything
arranged for: my son resigned his partner
to the unexpected guest, and an extra
place was provided for him. A couple of
this afterward 1 received a note of the
most profuse apologies from the poor
vouth, who. meanwhile, had found out his
blunder. He had been asked to dine with
mv namesake, Mrs. C. B. It was merely
a mistake of the initial and street on his
part.”
■My last dilemma was much worse
than that.” exclaimed another matron
whose husband was more or less inter
ested in polities. “Jack was dining at
the dub the other evening, and I had Just
made myself comfortable in my teagown.
promising myself a cosy little dinner
with anew novel as a companion, when
the bell rang. As 1 never dreamed that
any one would come In unexpectedly at
that hour, and I had consequently given
no orders to the contrary, the footman
ushered in, one after the other, three
western magnates, to whom, fortunately,
1 had been introduced the week before.
The situation flashed upon me at once!
Jack had asked them to dinner and had
forgotten the day! And my surmise did
not need the confirmation which speedily
came in Mr. —’s saying: "1 stayed
over to-day. Mrs. X., especially to have
the pleasure of dinine with you.’ Here
was a complication, and lam proud to
say that I was equal to the occasion. ‘I
must make my husband's apologies, gen
tlemen.'l said, with all the sang-froid I
could muster, as he will be unavoidably
detained half an hour. 1 hope you will
not mind a little chat with me en attend
ant.’and blessing my stars that we lived
near the club, I excused myself a mo
ment later and dashed off a note to my
delinquent sposo. commanding him to. re
turn immediately, and to bring his din
ner with him. I also told my
people to arrange the table for five,
and I then returned to the drawing room
with the delightful consciousness that
I had on a lovely teagown at all events,
and could afford to await the denouement
calmly. Just before the half hour, Jack,
the imperturbable, sauntered in and
apologised most naturally and menda
ciously for his unexpected business en
gagement. and, when dinner was an
nounced ten minutes later I found every
thing en regie, and a most uelicious menu
prepared. Jack had appropriated the
dinner which was to have been eaten at
the club with a couple of friends, who
generously put up with simpler fare for
the occasion.”
"I had an awkward experience in Eng
land." said a third dame. “1 was not ac
custom. and to tile long interval between the
invitation and the dinner which is cus
tomary over there, and presented myself
a week too soon at a very grand house in
London. Fortunately the family were
dining quietly at home, and they took m in
and made me comfortable, and I'had a far
nicer time than at the more elaborate
fuuction the week after.”
‘■My first English dinner was memora
ble,'said another lady, “in that mv hos
tess introduced me to my own h cS jand, and
asked him to take mein to dinner! It
was a very large affair, and she had evi
dently quite forgotten who we were, and
just mumbled over something to do for
names. What did we do? Why Mr. A.
offered nm his arm with great gravity,
ana I rcceptod the situation, and we
marched into the diningroom, Darby
and Joan fashion, together!”
-T hc a PParel, says the Chicago Tribune,
oit proclaims the man, and invariably the
vioman. There is no escaping the inriu
ence of clothes. Philosophers have
cognized that fact. Essayists have
concerning it. Dramatists have
used plays on that fundamental law of
n iiiian nature. And yet, with quiet un-
In @n and women of sense are
*be spread of antique styles, as
triw i 110 1 itongiug of fashions were too
riviai an affair for them to worry over,
tm V would undoubtedly believe that a
f iter urchin could be reclaimed by being
rw t 0 ,y e U P 10 respectable garments.
wou ld probably acknowledge that
*„, r ® s ® Hannah, the sweet Friend,
miv i ba , ve a little leaven of frivolity
' ‘ Wlta her piety should she doff her
Lum 41011 re(l ribbons. But they
an,i tw tl)at the rule ls universal,
of i vui • t , he ' VOl nan who adopts the garb
ls ,' 011:011 hy the unconscious inliu
an.i , 01 0 011108 lnto adopting the manners
and morals of 1830.
Wf i bas al'vays been pointed out that no
atbUa Col f ld wear 1830 shoes an<l he an
a f,.nV,' At hletlcs are incompatible with
the time wiien languor was
n, ‘ _desirable. Sloping shoulders
thatA# 10 tle Period of coyness, not to
with n cotnra(l eship. and no young woman
of evil proper re kard for the consistencies
ami , lalcnce ' v °uld think of being frank
wci to a man when she was
tin- nJL? j Peierine. Pelerines belong to
and ™. lod of hlnshes. down-dropped eyes,
an las hes. Those are the
u ii. i/ b,ls that must be revived to
“atoli antique garments.
m*;!*®,' sa y* the New York Tribune, is
iiiconcr'ln ° f con tradictions, and it is not
flu- iin,,r oUS v. tO f S1 ‘ ea ' £ ot the rich poor and
"wit./" I *’*?'. al ter all, poverty and
tin ~ ® im Piy less or more than
pauiieii °t There are more rich
erallv . m sooiel .V than would be gen
whet, especially this winter,
quentiv „. B l ,rin hage of values, and. conse
w hile th?, . m< ’°, n ’ e s, has been immense,
high •,r,H „CK U *' lartl of living remains as
than i,.„ ooll Kntions are increased rather
11 is not generally con
"(,u yf!* l , it actually costs a manor
w-aith, the reputation of great
activ ti, ,l . ear twice as much to buy ex
oi m„t„L I*° e lblD Ks as it dues a | arson
moderate means.
Cduuot have my attle breakfast
room refurnished as I wish to this vear ”
said the wife of a well-known millionaire.
‘*\V e cannot afford it.”
i absurd for you to savthat!”
lauprhed her moderately-well-off friend,
who had just renovated her drawing
room. "Such a little room as that must
ea mere bagatelle to you."
“Well,” answered the other, “it would
seem so but Mr. ” (naming a cele
brated decorator) "tells me it will cost
ebO.OOO to have it done as I wish it.”
Another case in point is thatof a gentle
man whose middle name savors so
strongly of wealth, he being connected on
his mother’s side with one of the richest
American families, that he has been
obilged to drop it, finding it a positive
disadvantage while traveling in Europe
t*> be identified by the trades-people and
innkeepers with his golden relatives.
“You have no idea how hard I find it to
make both ends meet,” said the wife of
an opulent banker. “I actually lie awake
at night worrying over the expenses of
the family, which, do what I can. I can
not manage to keep within a prescribed
limit. I often envy my maid, who has
everything provided for her, who has no
appearances to keep up, and who receives
her monthly roll of bills as clear profit.”
Certainly, domestic servants, did thev
hut know it, may be numbered among the
"rich poor,” for in no other class are the
individual expenses so small in proportion
to the amount received, or the comforts
enjoyed so great.
Mrs. Richard Clarke, says Kate Field's
\V ashington, wife of the congressman
from Mobile, Ala., is one of the few women
brave enough to scatter witty things in
the waste of five-minute official calls. At
the house of Mrs. Hale, of Maine, the
church service was mentioned.
“There’s one portion of the litany,”
said Mrs. Clarke, “that always used to
bother me. It’s where we pray especially
for the ‘widowed and fatherless.’ I never
could see why they need praying for so
much, as I thought motherless children
deserved pity much more; but I’ve just
found out why the motherless aren't men
tioned. It's because there are so few of
them, as the first thing a man does when
he is bereft of his wife is to look around
for anew mother for his children.”
In the laugh that followed, Mrs. Clarke
clinched her argument on the litany with:
“I think I ought to know, for didn't 1
marry a widower myself?”
They say, says Clara Belle in the En
quirer, that flirting is out of fashion.
’I hat it is now the thing for girls to look
their admirers in the face with steady,
honest eyes and just talk the simple, wo
manly truth to them. Now, isn't that
lovely! If ever a man is in danger, it is
when the girl levels steady, honest eyes
and comes the "simple womanly,” and the
adoption of this method only proves that
the girls have decided to come right down
to business, and that the men had better
look to themselves. It is nonsense to talk
about abolishing flirting. Society could
not exist without it. It is, indeed, a corner
stone of civilization, the prerogative of
emancipated woman, and finally, no family
should be without out. The history of
flirting would include the history of wo
mans progress. There are as many kinds
as there arc girls, butitissafe to say that
the most dangerous of all to the man is
that which conforms to the present mode.
The girls of some seasons past have been
all challenge and aaillery; they have
dazzled ana attracted the men on all
sides, and have laughed and threatened.
Men have gotten so used to this
method that that they have become lazy.
It is no odd thing to see a man just lean
ing back passive and being flirted at. Of
coarse, this will never do! Hence this
sudden change of method. The old style
has ceased to stimulate. The new style
will be sure to set the men to work. Now,
when a -girl is introduced, instead of
bursting into a sparkling flood of small
talk, instead of being all nods and quips
and quirls, flash of wit and flip of tongue,
she lifts a pair of very solemn eyes and
with mouth a little dropoped, just waits.
The man is naturally startled, and he
thinks this is anew sort of girl. She
speaks, when she does speak, slowly and
very softly. She is a bit dreamy, seems
to take things seriously and appeals to
the man with her to help her
understand all the wounderful things
she sees. This same girl really
knows just as much as the man does
Maybe she told him and showed him as
much only last season. If so, the change
in her is absolutely intoxicating. She
takes herself entirely in earnest. He can
not trick her into seeing the joke of the
new attitude and the first thing he knows
ho is talking a blue streak and trying all
the tricks he knows to see what she will
do. So it looks as if flirting would really
take anew and inspiring impetus from
the new method. T here is some excite
ment in proposing to a girl when she is
as like as not to refuse you from not
really knowing what you mean. The
girls say they are getting three proposals
where last year, at this time, they had
one, and that by hard work. Men have
so long been dosed with the witty and
self-possessed woman that the new girl is
a downright dissipation. Naturally the
adept at the old method is the very girl
who adapts herself most bewilderingly to
the new. The really solemn and shy girl
is no more ago this year than she ever
was or ever will be.
The Wednesday Club, of St. Louis, a
woman's club, is about to erect a build
ing, which, white it will house the club,
will also be a business building, where
various enterprises conducted by women
or catering to women will find a place.
It will cost $250,000, will be five stories
high, built in Greek classic style, of white
Carthage marble and buff Homan brick.
The ground floor will be yielded to mer
chants who look to women for patronage,
the second will have offices for dentists
and physicians, the third will be the home
of the Wednesday Club. The St. Louis
Decorative Art Society will occupy the
fourth floor, and on itho fifth will be a
handsome theater for the useof amateurs.
The ladies of the elub are very enthusias
tic over the project, and expect the build
ing will be a monument to the enterprise
of women.
The report recently in one of the medi
cal journals from a well-known physician
of recovery in three cases of gastric ulcer
following a diet of ice cream revives at
tention to tne beneficence of this diet in
certain forms of dyspepsia. The first
patient of the trio was a woman of 35,
who had lost twenty-five pounds from in
ability to assimilate food, and also suf
fered great pain. She was put on the ice
cream diet, and for two months she con
sumed from one to three quarts daily. By
the end of that time she had gained
twenty-four pounds and her ordinary diet
was resumed.
The theory is that the healthy intes
tines recover first from the chill of the
frozen food, and do the digestive work,
giving the diseased membrane rest and
semi-insensibility, while the cream af
fords ample and excellent nourishment.
Physicians who prescribe the diet are
careful to avoid chemical flavorings, and
prefer, usually insist, upon the ice cream
being made at home of pure materials
and uuder the best conditions.
On some parts of the European continent
a small niece df vanilla is put into the
teapot together with the tea. The flavors
are said to blend well, just as in Kussia
you take your tumbler of tea with a, slice
of lemon instead of milk, and as in France
and Germany you add a teaspoonful of
arrack or rum in your thimbletulof after
dinner coffee. , ...
But there is yet a daintier way of tak
ing your vanilla flavor with your tea.
And this refined manner is British and
not continen tal. When tea or coffee serv
ice is tiring made vanilla uavor is added
to the china when it is in the potter’s
hands, and thus it ia baked into every
article of the set. ,
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 4. 1894.
Whenever afterward, as the tea things
get hot as they are being used, they ex
hale a faint aroma of vanilla, which to
the fastidious may be preferable to the
actual infusion into beverages of the
piece of square stem of the vanilla
aromalica.
IT'S A FREAK WINTER.
All Sorts of Natural Phenomena Re
ported from Everywhere.
From the New York Press,
Washington, Jan. 29—This is a freak
winter. With the 3now line 500 miles
north of where it ordinarily is during
January, the entire winter wheat region
has been bare. That important crop has
been exposed to destruction by the always
possible sudden cold wave. Meanwhile,
people all over the country have been
sending to the weather bureau reports of
out of the way meteorological phenomena
unusually varied and peculiar.
There have been snowers of angle
worms in New Y’ork and showers of land
snails in Ohio. A box full of the latter,
to furnish proof, was sent to Wachington
by express. They were about the size of
pinheads. Instead of falling from the
sky, they must have been brought out of
the ground by the wet. Worms aad small
toads are fetched out of the earth under
like conditions, appearing in great num
bers after storms, and thus give rise to
stories that they have rained down.
Spring showers of what used to be taken
for sulphur occur in Washington
every year. When the sky clears
the gutters are found choked with yellow
stuff. Under the microscope, however, it
is quickly seen to be vegetable. It is
merely the pollen of pine trees, blown
from forests many miles distant.
People in all parts of the United States
are constantly reporting such freaks to
the weather bureau, with demands for
explanations. Often the puzzles thus pro
pounded are too difficult for Uncle Sam s
professional prophets to solve.
SHOWERS OE BLOOD.
No fewer than twenty-one “showers of
blood” have been recorded during the
present century in Europe and Algeria.
These phenomena excited widespread con
steration in ancient and even compara
tively recent times. They were regarded
as dire portents. They are accounted for
by very commonplace reasons. In 157(1 a
shower of this kind fell at the Hague and
caused great excitement. A level-headed
physician got a little of the crimson fluid
and examined it under the microscope.
He found that it was filled with small red
animalcules, which proved to be a species
of water flea. Doubtless they were
brought from a great distance by wind
and deposited with the rain.
In March, 1813, the people of Gerce. in
Calabria, saw a terrifle cloud advancing
from the sea. It gradually changed from
a pale to fiery red. shutting off the
light of the sun. The town, being envel
oped in darkness, the inhabitants .rushed
to the cathedral, supposing that the end
of the world was come. Meanwhile the
strange cloud covered the whole heavens,
and, amid peals of thunder and flashes of
lightning, red rain fell in large drops,
which were imagined by the excited
populace to be of blood Analysis after
ward made of the fluid showed that its
coloring matter was a dust of an earthly
taste. Probably this dust was ejected by
an active volcano, carried a great dis
tance by the wind, and precipitated by
the rain.
A BAIN OB INK.
“There was a rain of ink in the city of
Montreal on Nov. 9, 1819. Some of the
liquid, collected and forwarded to New
York for analysis, was discovered to owe
its hue entirely to soot. The explanation
of it was that there had previously been
immense forest fires south of the Ohio
river, the season being remarkably dry,
and the sooty particles from the conflagra
tion had been conveyed by strong winds
northward, so as to mingle with the rain
when it fell.
In 1824, in a district of Persia, there
was an abundant shower of a nutritious
substance strange to the people. Cattle
and sheep devoured it greedly, and bread
was made from it. It proved to be a kind
of lichen. Large quantities of vegetable
materials are always floating in the air.
Astronomers have frequently mistaken
such organic bodies for meteorites as they
passed across the field of tho telescope.
They were finally discovered to be mostly
the feathered seeds of plants carried by
the breeze.
FISHES IX THE AIR.
Small marine fishes are sometimes found
scattered about on dry land far from sea.
They are transported by storms, which at
first take the form of waterspouts, suck
ing up the finny creatures, together with
a portion of their native element, and car
rying them shoreward. Showers of frogs
and the levae of aquatic insects are pro
duced in a similar fashion by tornadoes.
The “cyclone twister” will sometimes
suck a road dry in passing.
Tornadoes are the most extraordinary
and among the most destructive of atmos
pheric phenomena. It has been reckoned
that, on an average, each of them costs
one life. That which struck Louisville in
1890 wiped out $3,250,000 worth of property
and 135 lives. The funnel shaped cloud
which does the damages run at a speed of
from forty to eighty miles an hour.
POWER OF TORNADOES.
No structure that can be raised by man
above the surface of the earth will resist
this kind of storm. It perpetrates many
extraordinary freaks, plucking chickens
bare without hurting them, tearing tho
hair from women’s heads and twisting it
into ropes, and stripping people naked
and covering them with mud. Every
tornado seems to carry great quantities
of mud. It has been known to take up a
carpet from the floor, to which it was se
curely tacked, and carry it out of the
house without tearing it. On one occa
sion a piece of scantling seven feet long
was driven lengthwise through the body
of a hog.
A SILVER TnAW.
One of the most wonderful of atmos
pheric freaks at this wintry season is the
"silver thaw." which clothes the trees in
shining coats of ice, every twig sparkling
in the sunlight. Yet few take the trouble
to inquire how this comes to pass. It is
very simple. At tho beginning of a thaw,
the air, laden with water, passes over the
’loughs and twigs, and the moisture it
contains is frozen upon them. Every
year stories of great hailstones are circu
lated in the newspapers. Some as big as
elephants are said to have fallen in India,
and they have been fairly well authenti
cated. Unfortunately, however, these
wera doubtless aggregations of hailstones,
partly melted together.
Delicate Ourang-Outangs.
From the London Daily News.
One of the simian Irwin brothers who
have for some weeks been fetching crowds
to the Jardin d'Acclimatation, in Paris,
died on Wednesday night. They were,
our correspondent says, of the ourang
outang species, and tall, gaunt, loosely
built and shaggy. They resembled at a
distance a couple of bears, and had as
much hair. Their gait was lumbering,
but in swinging themselves from branch
to branch they were lithe and rapid in
their movements. These simian brothers
were known as Max and Maurice. Cap
tivity soured their tempers, and they fell
out so often as to make it necessary to
keep them in separate cages far enough
apart for their arms not to reach from one
to the other. The house where they were
kept was constantly well heated, never
theless the sudden fall of the mercury at
the close of last year had a deadly effect
on Maurice.
Tommy (looking thoughtfully into his
aquarium/ -Mamma. 1 think the worst
thing about being a little fish would be
having a mamma without any lap.—Har
per's Young People.
GORGEOUS FUNERALS.
Bib Roundly Denounces Mortuary
Extmaganct. i
Costly Casket*, Plumed Hearses,
Wired Flowers and Sombre Crape
Means Mockery—Mr. Van Million's
Aristocratic Obsequies—The Rever
end Doctor Velvet’s Insincerity at
the Tomb—A Minister’s Fat Fee So
called Mourners Filling the Coaches.
New York, Feb. 3.—Who is to be con
sidered—the living or the doad ? Do you
know what I mean ? Put yourself in the
place of the man who is earning $75 a
month; he has a bit of a home, two or
three children, and, by the care amt econo
my of his wife, Obey live along without
getting into debt; and yet because illness
will come to the rich and poor alike, be
cause there may be a desire to give a help
ing hand to an erring brother, there is no
mone.v saved. One day death comes into
that little fiat which represents home to
these people. It may be the baby who is
dead; it may be the oldest child; and
sorrow of sorrows, it may be
the wife, or else God help them!
it may be the man himself. The
first awful . grief over, somebody
says something about the funeral. You
and I shrink with horror from the funeral
trappings, and yet they must come. There
may be a little money giTen here and
there, from one and another of the family
but the undertaker glibly reminds the liv
ing that so much will have to be paid for
the horrible plumed hearse that carries
that which you love, living or dead, and
that behind it must come a troop of car
riages filled with so-called friends, who
absolutely enjoy the morbid curiosity that
induces'them to look at you in your grief.
Well, you give the little money that
you have; you think how you loved that
dear, dead one, and you feel as if some
body insists upon it that you must not
fail in the outward respect due
TO THIS ONE WHO IS SLEEPING.
And then, for months after, there must
bo money saved ; you must give up the
idea of doing what you wish for the liv
ing until you have paid for this wretched
poinp shown to the dead. And the boy
who wanted to go to school another year
is forced out into the world, and the girl
who was anxious to study something that
she might in the future give a helping
hand, has to slay at home and shed quiet
tears over her disappointment. All be-
cause a miserable, mean conception of
what is right and what is wrong says
that you shall bind yourself for many
months to the dead and ignore the living.
I can't tell you how much I feel about
this. I have seen it, and whilo I know
that a loving pride dictated it, still I felt
that if the dead could come back and
speak, they would ask that only a quiet
resting-place be given to them, that only
a willing prayer be said for them, ami
that if there is a flower offered in remem
brance, it will be one that comes from a
home garden, and not that which has
passed through the hands of thc flourist,
and been wired by him to form what ho
calls "a most affecting token.”
DEATH TAKES THE MILLIONAIRE.
The other day Mr. Van Million died.
His life hadn’t been any too remarkable
for its goodness, or its kindness, or its vir
tues, but still ho was dead, and that can
all be forgotten. In the embrace of death
Mr. Van Million is surrounded by blue
violets and white lillies. by costly ofchils
and palm leaves, and allrthe wreuUis and
bunches of flowers are tied with great,
broad ribbons. And Mrs. Van Million en
ters the room to go to thcchurch,amoving
mass of crape, that any woman who looks
can estimate at its enormous cost. And
the church is open, and a well-known
prima donna, well-known alike for the
beauty of her voice and the wickedness
of her life, sings almost exquisitely.
And, later on, at the grave the
Reverend Doctor Velvet makes a picture
of himself as he looks up to
the blue skies above him and carefully re
minds God Almighty that “in this, tho
loss of our dear brother, there has gone
from us one who was most prominent,
who was kind and good, and who will,
without doubt, occupy in heaven that
position in which he would find greatest
happiness and be nearest to tho great
white throne.” And the liev. Dr. Velvet
knows that in his trousers’ pocket is a
check for SI,OOO from Mrs. Van Million,
thanking him for his goodness and for the
thoughtful consideration that prompted
him to give up one afternoon of his valu
able time to her in her sorrow. Undoubt
edly, she felt this way—the Van Millions'
wives and daughterslove them, but it has
been suggested to her by some ono who
knew that it was customary to give this
monetary courtesy
TO THE REV. DR. VELVET.
He values his time well. You, who happen
that day to have gone out to look "at a
little baby’s grave, pass this group, raise
your hat,and stand still for a moment; you
know that when that baby died, if you
had gone to the Rev. Dr. Velvet, and told
him that you earned sls a week, and that
you wanted some prayers said over your
dead child, you know as well as Ido that
the man who is supposed to preach the
doctrine of him who died that you might
be saved, would instantly find a pleasant
excuse for not doing as you asked. Do
I blame the clergy? Ido, most emphat
ically ; Ido not care to what church they
may belong, 1 insist upon it, that when it
comes to a question of burying the dead,
the rich and the poor stand alike in the
presence of God, and that no man has a
right to refuse to do his duty by them,
and that no man has a right to accept
money for the consolation that he give#
the living, and the prayers that he says
for the dead.
If Mrs. Van Million realizes in her sor
row that there are others tn this world
who suffer, then she can give her check
to where It will do most good in memory
of tho dead; but the horror of paying a
clergyman for speaking words of consola
tion, has made more men lose faith than
anything else in the world.
Why can't you be a little brave about
your dead? Why can't you say. when
the breath has left the body, that no
stranger hand can touch It, and robing
it in something it had worn in life: why
won’t you put it in a plain box, without
embellishments of silver or gold; have it
carried into a dark coach, and followed
to its resting place only by those who
loved It while there was life in it? How
can you, if you have a heart, permit the
merely curious to look at your dead?
How can you allow the people to whom
she who is dead, never spoke, never knew
of, to look at and criticise her, when she
lies there helpless, unable to say a word ?
What is the matter with the men and
women? They can write beautiful senti
ment, they can talk of truth and art and
love, and yet they permit their dead to
endure vulsrar stares, that living would
have horrified them. Why can’t you
have the moral courage, when death
comes, to give to that dear body, because
of your reverence for it, the simplest and
sweetest of ceremonies, in which only
those who loved it while it was alive,
take part?
flowers se/nt for polict’s sake.
You sec tbe great wagon full of flowers
going out; it te 'ms to you the expression
of kindness. Nine times out of ten it is
the expression of policy, and many a man
has robbed bis own to buy the floral
wreath that he felt bound t> send tcEthe
home of his employer bo-auae death had
entered it Ana wbat Is th • result? Ask
anybody in the cemetery. and they will
tell you that those who prey on the dead,
and there are plenty of them, take the
ribbons off the palm leaves, break off the
freshest of the flowers, and carry away
the wire frames that were the founda
tion of the anchor, or the cross, or the
crown and sell them.
Well, after a while you have paid the
undertaker's bill And then, because
somebody else's child has one. you feel
that you must put up a marble monu
ment. and for a year, or perhaps two,
you act the thief to the living to gratify
what is, after all, not a duty to the dead,
but your own vanity. You think, per
haps. that lam a little severe. There is
not to-day oue human being who has a
greater respect than I for the dead, and
for that very reason I cannot see them
made an excuse for extravagance, nor
cau I endure their going out of this world
being made a sort of a festival day
for the mere acquaintance and the gos
sip. What do I think is right; I’ll tell
you. The first duty you owe is to the
living, but you can give your love and rev
erence to the dead without interfering
with that. Take up the form that you
loved, put it in its plain wooden box ; if
you wish, have a little plate with its
name on it, but I think at the last great
day neither God nor you will need it to
know the dear ones, bury it quietly and
with just a few, simple services, and then
come back home and go on living. I jet in
the bright sunshine, aud if you think, as
you will many times of that one who is no
more on earth, you will think with love
and not with horror as you would if, after
the gorgeous funeral each month found
you worried to get together the money
necessary to pay for what was simply
ridiculous.
THE PRINCE'S BURIAL.
When the son of the Prince of Wales
died, his father and brother walked
three miles behind the caisson on which
his coffin rested, and after them walked
all those who wished to pay respect to
the dead Prince. None of the women, for
on the other side they think, proporly
enough, that nervous, excited, tender
hearted women are out of place in ceme
teries, and that it is the duty of the men
of the family to bear the heaviest bur
dens. Here, if that had been the son of a
salesman, or a nmn in the middle class.of
lit'e, there would have been eight or ten
expensive carriages to be paid for, and
the family would be put in debt for
months. I feel all this just now very
much, becauseon the other side of human
ity I have seen so much of what I call the
burden of the dead. I know that until
the wiser oL our people insist upon fu
neral Servians being simpler, funeral
trappings quieter, and announce the pos
sibility of a great grief without yards of
crape, that this burden will rest upon the
poor forever and forever.
I do not grieve the less because I refuse
to go in debt for a crape gown, and yet
the woman of moderate means thinks the
world will believe that she did not care
for the one who has gone before unless
she gowns herself so that she looks
gloomv, and put s a heavy veil between her
and God Almighty's sunshine.
If only the dead could come back and
tell us 1 If they could only say : “My
dear ones, you do not make me believe less
in your love or In your remembrance of
me by all this folly, and I beg of you to go
on and live your lives as you have done,
and make me a living memory among you
and not a dead one.” Who is to blame* I
am afraid it is the people who have
plenty of money, and who have thor
oughly imbued all the rest of the world
with the idea that respect to the doad is
shown by long processions, by expensive
caskets, and by the wearing of stuffs so
gloomy that it makes death soern horrible
rather than restful.
THE QUAKER’S “EARTH TO EARTH.”
We could all learn a lesson from the
gentle (Quakers. Among them the coffin
in which the poor or tho rich mao sleeps
is perfectly plain; he iB laid in the ground
about the meeting house, and at his head
is put a little stone—they are all alike
on which his navte is engraved. When
a hundred years have gone by the stones
are taken up, the ground is plowed over,
and, behold It is ready to receive other
sleeping forms, those closest to the living
of to-day. I have heard this called hard
hearted, but I do not think it is.
When the last great day comes, and the
trumpet rings out its call, and you and I
and our dead stand waiting to hear our
names called, we may bo very certain that
the sin of avarice will not be forgiven be
cause the mahogany casket cost *1,000;
that the sin of impurity will not be over
looked because the handles on it were
solid silver; that the sin of dishonesty
will not bo wiped out because there rested
above us a monument of finest Carrara
marble. On, no. On that great day the
rich and the poor will really stand to
gether in the sight of God, and this mortal
shall put on immortality without there
being any question of coffins or hearses, of
funeral sermons or wired flowers, or lying
obituaries; but it will be asked of each
one, ,
“HOW IS IT WITH TOUR SOUL?”
There will never be a question of the
treatment given to the dead body, but all
will tend toward ’‘How did you do your
duty toward God and those whom he en
trusted to you?”
Think it over; it's worth while, and
make up your mind, if grief comes, that
you are going to do your duty to the liv
ing, and not make your sorrow an ever
lasting one by combining with it the hor
ror of debt and tho continual depriving
of what belongs to the living that you
may feel that you have done like the
rest of tho world to the dead. You don’t
wart to be like tho rest of tho world.
You want to be honest, clear-headed and
clear-hearted, fearing no man and doing
that which is right. And the right way
to treat your dead is to give them tender
respect and to put them in the warm
arms of Mother Earth so quietly and so
simply that your grief will have due
honor given it because you have not at
tempted to frame it in vulgarity and ri
diculous display. Am I right? Ido be
lieve I am. And I prove my belief by
putting to my opinion my name, which is
Bab.
Forced to Live on Barnacles.
From the San Francisco Coll.
Not many people are ever compelled to
subsist solely on a diet of barnacles, and
when they are it is generally after they
have been shipwrecked on some desert
island. Instead of in the midst of a
wealthy Christianicommunity. And yet
that is what u man has been doing for
several weeks He has often been seen
climbing over the half rotten piles in the
vicinity of the Mail dock at low tide and
scraping off the mollusks. but nobody paid
any attention to him until the other day
he sat on a stringer and began to make a
meal out of his gift from the sea. “Do
you like those things?” asked a bystander,
"and don’t you know they are poison?”
“They haven’t poisoned me,” answered
the man, “and I don’t eat them because I
like them, but because I have nothing
else and don't know when I will have."
His story was only another chapter of tbe
terrible experiences of tho unemployed
during the winter. He was an unmarried
man, and had wandered around the
streets of San Francisco without food un
til he nearly dropped from exhaustion be
fore be thought of eating the barnacles.
That was over three weeks ago, and in
the meantime he has eaten nothing else.
He was perfectly willing to talk about
himself as he greedily devoured the tiny,
raw bivalves. “Pretty tough food, ain’t
they?” asked the man, who was watching
him. “You bet they are,” he replied,
throwing a handful of shells Into the bay,
“but I would rather eat them all the rest
of my life than beg.”
Father—The idea of marrying that
young fellow! He couldn’t scrape enough
money together to buy a square aitai.
Dau.di sr—But what diftereu e need
that make? We haven’t either of us had
a bit of appetite for mouths.—New York
Weekly.
P p Q Pimples, Blotches
JTb—n—r_! an( j s ores
PRICKLY ASH, POKE ROOT ~ . „ ." .
and potassium Catarrn, Malaria
Makes and Kidney Troubles-
Marvelous Cures SEE:
in Blood Poison :
■■■ Mbsmui Lippman Bfcos., Harannah.
n ■ . • Oft. : Dba* file*-I bought e bottle of *
Rheumatism ■
months* treatment at the Hot Spring*. *
_ fiend three bottles O. O. D. *
and Scrofula ■
V4IILI QQI Ul UIU Aberdeen, Brown County, O. .
P. P. P. purines the blood, builds op tsyl. S. D. Johnston,
the weak end debilitated, Elves - . ~, „„„ I . .
happiness where sickness. gloomy SjjElJL r .!?I<<onsi v.!mwFtVs'nl.'nF •
feelings and flr.t prersllr/ .
s,ph r . l Va ri 7oVl!^ OD p&SS. t SS ESo’HkSS '
blotch**, pimples, old chronlo nloers. uw
tetter, seald head, boils, erysipsia*. Skin CAorer Cured. *
eczema tvo may aay, without fear of
contra.llctloo.that P. P. P. is the host Testimony from the Mayor qf tsyrfnufbfi, *
blood porlflor In the world,and makn* _
iionitlve, speedy and permanent aurea SnQonr. Tn., January It, IMH.
Id all cases. Mmssaa. larpMAM Baas.*Hawaiin in. •
On.: iimilsmen—l bars tried your P. -
toulo ami bUxui fiesnsliig prop- rltnslon from tno seat of the aleeae
ernes of p. P. P Prickly Asff. Poke end pn™*s •?"*'*** .
Root and Potassium •°*\ # *- * * oi *a
and fsel confident tbat another covree #
Mn Anv 14th lftAa will SlleOC a Wire. It htu> alwo relieved
—f esn'swJsJthn the’ ’bqflfvst* terms of ■ t ““ h ‘
your medicine from my own pereonel troubles. Xoni. tru v, .
Knowledge. 1 wee affected with heart -
dlsr.ee, pleurisy end rheumatism lor Attorney at lAwr
35 years, was treated by tho vory best " .
FvV.r^do*^rw h n u ?.^ o wfsl: Book on Blood Diseases lolled Fne. .
re h M WnrtfT ALL DRUGGISTS SELL IT. •
cheerfully eey It he, done me mors , , np.no *
good than uny thing 1 have overtaken. LIPPIvI AN BROS, .
?o.n recommend your medicine to all * " ”
sufferer, of the above disease PROPRIETORS, ■
MRS. M. M. YEARY. f- _ . _ .
Springfield. Green County, Mo. c Uppnss’, Block,anvsauh, On
VtHHXRONNU * V*Ui\iS
THE ORiaiSAL AND OINUINt Th. „a!j "sfc, *■!■*, Hid riUmbh Pill for ial. \ SKtf
LatiMro, >■! DrillliM hr IWeluUr l WnjIUA I, (among Brmnd In ReS nd floM nnUlllo \V
I . .., MI-111. rll.hnn Th • n<> Ol lirr kind Hwftuk Tuh.Mmi-mu ImUnHon. V
AH pill* in pnatoboanl bos*. pink wrappers, dnnwerown •ounterfrlls. At Druggist*, or snd ■
4c. in stomp* for pmrUruUr*. iMtlroohUls, snrt “KHiwf for l.aril**,* m U<l*r. by pstn rn MstJL
10.000 Trot! moil ini*. A torn* h*p~. CHICHtSTKR CHIMICH CO., MsiUms SsSMti
Sold bj mil Lmsl OrufUt*. IMILADICLF*IA>I.
HOTELS.
HOTEL PONCE DE LEON,
ST. AUGUSTINE, FLA.,
Casiuo, Russian and Turkish Baths now open.
O. D. BEAVEY, Manager.
BREAD OF THE ANCIENTS.
How They Prepared tbs Staff of Life
in Olden Times.
From the Confectioners’ Union.
Among the ancient Greeks bread was
not, as with us, simply an adjunct to,
but an essential part of the principal meal
of tho day. The chiefs of the heroic
period lived almost exclusively on two
dishes; roast moat (over which a little
flour was sprinkled) and wheaten bread.
The flour was ground in a hand mill by
the female servant; it was then made
into dough, a portion of salt added, and
baked in n special part of the kitchen.
Wheaten bread enjoyed a great reputa
tion in those days. Homer calls It the
strength of man. Bread was the first
beforo a guest. It represented
civilization, whereas meat was repre
sentative of the old style. When Odys
seus fled for refuge to the palace of
Aikinos, bread is especially mentioned
among the dishes set before him. In
the historical Hellag, bread played a
similar part; it was one of the principal
foods of the people, was regardod as in
dispensible by the better classes, and
certain kinds of it was looked upon In
the light of luxuries. Tho place most
celobrated for bakeries—tho Vlenna ( of
the time—was Athens, but we really
know a very little about the method of
making bread there. It is characteristic
of the position which bread occupied as
an article of food that the Spartans at
their midday meal, only had wheaten
bread on special occasions as a particu
lar luxury. Solon, also ordered that
all those citizens who were fed at the
expense of the state in the Pryiha
nelon should only have white
bread on rare occasions. In republican
Rome it was the custom for each house
hold to bake enough bread for its require
ments, and not to purchase; and even un
der the Caesars, when there was a good
number of bakers in the city, the better
class families adhered to the
old style of baking at
home. And such houses possessed a
separate room for baking, situated next
to the kitchen; the room was called
“pi&trina” (mill), for It embraced the
place where the corn, etc., was ground.
Bakers were called “pistores” (millers)
until the fall of Rome, although the two
branches had been divided long before.
In Imperial Rome the bakers wore di
vided into three classes —white bakers,
milk bakers and sweet bakers. The white
bakers, or wheat bakers, were the chief,
because they produced food, a means of
nourishment; the milk bakers made buns
and cakes ■, the third class were noted for
their skill in the baking of tarts and all
kinds of sweet confectionery eaten for
dessert. When we remember how closely
butter is connected with bread at the
present day, it is strange to read of the
antipathy which existed against it in
those times Butter was never used as a
food either in Greece or Rome; it was em
ployed chiefly as a mindicant (externally
in plasters and bandages, internally much
as we take cod-liver oil); had pastry been
made with it the Greeks and Romans
would have relected tbe confectionery
just as we should turn up our noses at a
tart made with train oil. It is true the
Thracians ate it, but they were only half
Greeks. In imperial Rome there wore,
in addition to bakeries conducted by pri
vate people, spacious state bakeries,
which played an important part in pro
viding for the wants of the people. The
Roman ovens were Just like those in use
at the present time, A well preserved
specimen was discovered some years ago
during tho excavations at Pompeii; it
contained several charred loaves, on
which the baker’s name could plainly be
seen, showing of what flour they had
been made. The loaves of Pompeii
weighed about two pound; they were
round and indented, to admit of breaking
them into eight equal parts. Similar
loaves are made even now in Calabria
nd Sicily.
He-—lt was very rudo of you to try to
show your contempt for me before all
those people.
She (sweetly)—l was not trying toßhow
it; 1 was trying to conceal it.—Philadel
phia Record.
MEDICAL.
A BILLION.
Few Have Any Adequate Conception
of What a “Billion” Is.
From the London Times.
The sheots of paper on which the Time*
is printed, if laid out flat and firmly
pressed together, as in a well-bound book,
would represent a measure of about 1-333
of an inch in thickness. Let us see how
high a donso pile formed by a billion of
these thin paper leaves would reach. We
must, in imagination, pile them vertically
upward, by degrees reaching to the hight
of our tallest spires, and passing these
the pile must still grow higher, topping
the Alps and the Andes and the highest
?caks of the Himalayas, and shooting up
rom thence through the fleecy clouds,
pass beyond the confines of our attenu
ated atmosphere and leap up into the blue
ether with which the universe is filled,
standing proudly up far beyond the reach
of all terrestrial things— still pile on your
thousands and millions of thin leaves, for
we are only beginning to rear the mighty
mass. Add millions on millions of sheeta
and thousands of miles on these, and
still the number will lack its due amount.
I>3t us pause to look at tho neat plowed
edges of the book before us. See how
closely lie those thin flakes of paper; how
many there are in the mere width of a
span, and then turn our eyes in imagina
tion upward to our mighty column of ac
cumulated sheets. It now contains its ap
pointed number, and our 1,000.000,000,000
of sheets of the Times, superimposed upon
each other and pressed into a compact
mass, has reached an altitude of 47.84S
miles! Those who have taken the trouble
to follow me thus far will, I think, agree
with me that 1,000,000,000,000 Is a fearful
thing, and that few can appreciate its
real value. As for quadrillions and trill
ions, they are simply words, mere wordsi
wholly incapable of adequately impress!
ing themselves on human intellect.
He Would Sell Himself for His Family
From the Detroit Free Press.
A most extraordinary incident, indica
tive, no doubt, of the desperate state of
mind to which many have been reduced
by the prevailing hard times, occurred at
Emergency Hospital recently. A man
about 45 years of age called at the hospital
and asked to see the superintendent or
physician in charge. When that func
tionary was called and inquired tha
stranger’s business, the man said: “My
name is Albert Stoner lam a painter by
trade, ana have a family dependent on ms
at Flint. I have been out of work for a
long time, though I have sought it con
stantly and done anything and everything
that was offered me, which was very lit
tle. My family are now reduced to very
straitened circumstances, and 1 want to
sell you my body for $25 for dissecting
purposes.”
The doctor was astonished at the nov
elty of the proposition, and said face
tiously that the hospital might have to
wail a good while before the goods were
delivered.
“Not at all.” replied Mr. Stoner. “Just
as soon as I find that the money has
reached my family I will commit suicide
and leave an order that my body be given
to you.”
If the doctor had been astonished be
fore, be was much more so at the last re
mark of Mr. Stoner, and began to suspect
that he was dealing with a lunatic. But
though he applied the usual tests in the
long conversation which followed, he was
unable to detect the slightest abberation
of mind, except that Mr. Stoneh had
brooded so long over his inability to pro
vide his family with the necessities of
life that he had become desperate, and
had even lost sight of the fact that he was
asking the doctor to become a murderer
or murderer's accomplice.
“Have the hard times affected vou!”
asked the man with seedy coat. “Kotin
the least,” said the man with the silk
hat. “May I Inquire your business?”
“Certainly; lam a professional labor agi
tator.”
Tbe death Is snnounced of Mrs. Austen
sole surviving sister ol Csrdlnal Manning,
whose senior she wag.
13