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NEGRO CORN-SHUCKING.
Come, Rrab up a rail an' fling it ’crow de com,
Sing «r jurangi, ho;
ter mu*' beat de udder squad ju»’ a* shore’*
yer bom,
Sing «r Jurangi, lio;
©e Guinea nigger shuck* like akirinin’ a squri,
Sing cr Jurangi, ho;
Xcepa de com in de air in a reg’lar whirl,
Sing er jurangi, ho;
An’ cr rake dem shucks back,
Roun’ up de com,
Put de nubbins in de feed sack
Doan’ yer bear my horn?
Watch de yallcr nigger, fur he’s gwiue fur to
cheat,
Sing er jurangi, ho;
He's got a lot oh corn dar, uu’er his feet, •
Stng cr Jurangi, ho;
Wc's diggin’ like a hen cr seratchin’ fordc hug
Sing er jurangi, ho;
Fee got a red year, come, gimme dat jug,
Sing er jurangi, ho;
An’ er dar, we’» boun’ beat yer.
Put up de peo,
Thought wo conUln't meet yer—
Foolin’ wid men.
—Arkantaw Traveler.
The Two IVfarthen.s,
Exact similarity of names between two
Individuals who are not related in any
way is generally cause for considerable
amusement to those who know of it, but
Anson Marthen, civil engineer and rail¬
way builder, whose headquarters were
In New York, suffered more or less nearly
every day of his life tor the reason that
there was another man of exactly the
same name who also lived in New York,
but had no business or profession wliat
ever. Tlie men were unlike in almost
every particular, except that both were
'bachelors and fond of ladies. Anson
Marthen, the engineer, earned a pleasing
BTim)>er of dollars every year, and always
paid his bills as soon as they were pre¬
sented; his nominal doable never earned
a penny and never paid a bill when be
could avoid it, and as his peculiarity ha 1
become prominent enough to bo talked
about, it occasionally subjected the
In most Marthen to exasperating indig¬
nities from persons who knew the name,
but not the men who bore it. The dis¬
honest Marthen, on tlie contrary, got all
accessary credit at tailors’ shops, livery
stables, and oven hotels whore the exist¬
ence of the twoMorthens was not known;
he had merely to devise some excuse to
talk of railroad and engineering to be
taken for his entirely reputable double.
His bills, in the course of time, reached
the. engineer's office, and were the cause
of much profane language from the
wrong Marthen and much fun among the
two or three clerks and draughtsmen
■whom the busy railroad builder em¬
ployed.
Worse still, the honest Marthen was
sometimes chillingly received by persons
■4o whom he was introduced and who
h;id heard of the other bearer of U><‘
’Saatmt \forstof all, ladies some
dfc afo. u ppoiwfcHl when he. w i
preseii io them, for his rascally
double was handsome enough to be
'talked about, while the engineer, al¬
though of perfect manner, unfortunately
ba<l rugged and disproportionate fea¬
tures. Wbeu, finally, ho was arrested
one afternoon on a charge of obtaining
goods under false pretenses, the com¬
plainant being the father of a lady to
whom he had just been presented, aud
the officers catching him ns he emerged
from her house, the Indy herself behold¬
ing the affair from a window, he went in
his wrath to bis lawyer and prepared a
petition to the Legislature, that for
reasons nl ready stated hi this story, he
might be permitted to assume his
mother’s family name ns a middle name.
But even this relief ho could not ex
poet, until more than half a year later,
for the arrest occurred in June and the
Legislature would not meet again until
January. One thing, however, he could
«nd would do; he would manage to sea
his troublesome double so that he mtght
afterward know him by sight and defend
himself against him whenever he found
himself in close social or business prox¬
imity to the rascal. To find the dishonest
Marthen was uo easy task; it required a
fortnight’s effort on the part of two dif¬
ferent. detectives, but at last Marthen
was informed that the man who lived
upon the engineer's reputation was at
•Saratoga, so the indignant man hastily
packed his trunk and hurried off to that
■crowded village.
On the train he chanced to find a plea¬
sant and entirely innocent traveling ac¬
quaintance. A well-dressed, not un¬
comely lady who sat in front of him en¬
deavored to raise a window and Marthen
hastened to assist her, getting a pleasant
smile and a word of thanks in payment.
Marthen skillfully involved the lady in
annvernation, and finding, to lxis great
■delight, that she was amiable but not
*mart, quite susceptible, yet not in¬
clined to flirt, he l*eeame very devoted.
He detested smart women; several of his
friends hail married such beings and
never ceased to regret the step; smart
women had often tried to “catch” Mar
then himself, for an income of a thou¬
sand a mouth was not to be despised, and
he had not always escaped with ease.
Jiaztben fully intended to marry some
<daj, but he had been determined that he
would be entirely satisfied with a plain,
rather stupid woman if only he could
And one who was amiable.
The trip to Saratoga consumed six
tiours when Marthen first made it; and
js one-sixth of this time has often been
«»fileient to the birth of violent admira
Axons of men for women, it is not remark -
•hie that when the journey ended Mar
was so favorably impreascd ^byjn s
;iew acquaintance that he regretted, on
leaving the train, that he had not strained
•iia habitual' courtesy enough to lean:
her name, and ask the honor of being
i gain allowed to meet her, for she had
let drop the fact that she was a widow.
It was now too late to do this, but E'.'
oo late to hope; he was sore of finding
i tends at Saratoga; he could hardly he!;
•seeing her somewhere, somehow, if In
emained, for she hail intimated that sin
-•ejected to spend a month with somerel
tfives; bis profession consisted in tin
work of overcoming obstacles, so he felt
Aure he would make his way again to
fh ■ side of this pleasant little lady, and
M'riiaps—
His reverie and resolution were inter
r’ij)ted as be signed the hotel register,
for when the clerk read the signature
:iiat official winked at rather a rough
looking man with whom he had been
talking, then the rough-looking man read
the signature aud exclaimed:
“You’re just the man I’m looking for,
Mr. Marthen—I’ve only just been able
to find ont where you were stopping
can’t you give me a check for this carriage
bill ? Its been running nearly a mouth,
and the boys said you—”
“I’m not the man you want,” said
Marthen, first saying something that
would not look well in print,
“Yoar name is”
“Yes, yes, yes,” interrupted Marthen;
“but there is another man of the same
name aud he’s a swindler. I came here
to run him down; I’ve got detectives
after him; come here this evening and
they will put you on his track.”
For an hour or more Marthen was in
very bad temper, but ho grew calmer
when, strolling out to look at tire crowds
of carriages and their occupants, he met
several acquaintances who had tempor¬
arily abjured billiards or flirting for the
same purpose. As he ohatted with one
of these a carriage passed slowly and
Marthen saw in it the amiable little
widow he had met on the train in
morning. She did not seem to
him, but his friend raised his hat and
was smiled upon.
:: Who is she, JeDks?— tell me,
“She’s Mrs. Whitlayton, widow of Will
Whitlayton, who was just starting to
make a fortune in wool when, a couple
of years ago, ho took pneumonia and
died. Ho loftlior twenty or thirty thou¬
sand dollars, though—enough to make
lazy, well-dressed follows swarm around
her like flies around a sugar barrel.”
“Has she any family ?” asked Marthen.
“No; she makes her home with an
uncle and aunt whom she doesn’t love
any too well, I’m told. A young widow
must have a home, though, you know,
if she doesn’t want to be talked about.
Excuse me a moment,” continued Mar
thou’s friend, taking the arm of a gentle¬
man whowas about to pass them, “here’s
a good fellow my^friend you ought to know, Cranch;
i. 4 .yon know Anson Marthen ?
Mr. Marthen, Mr. Cranch. ”
- 1 'pvf very glild’to Riiow VotT, sir^said ___
Mr. Cranch, “but, if it isn’t too impu¬
dent a question to ask on so short ac¬
quaintance, why are yon strolling on foot
with Fred here, while your charming
fiancee is riding alone ?”
“My fiancee?” exolaimed the engineer,
in astonishment, while his friend looked
inquiringly.
“I hope I am uot mistaken,” said Mr.
[ranch. “I’ve been told that Mrs. Wluf
Inyton was soon to become Mrs. Anson
Marthen.”
Marthen’s face blackened, as he s
claimed through tightly closed jaws:
“Gentleman, this is horrible. I never
knew the lady’s name until five minutes
ago. My villainous double—you know
ill about him, Fred—that rascal has
probably made love to her for her money
uul persuaded her to marry him. What
is to be done ?”
One gentleman shrugged his shoul¬
ders and the other raised his eyebrows;
Mr. Cranch finally said:
“I suppose it’s nobody's business; the
nuly nas been mumou oeiore; sin
ought to be able to choose for herself.”
“I'll make it my business,” hissed
Marthen, as he turned abruptly and
hurried to his hotel, where he had the
good fortune to find one of the detec¬
tives awaiting him and full of news.
The scapegrace Marthen, he said, had
been living quietly at a small boarding¬
house, but his servant, who had uot been
paid for so long that he was willing for a
ten-dollar bill to tell all he knew, hail di¬
vulged the fact that the rascal knew he
was being watoked; ho was frightened,
and he was up to some new dodge,
though he did uot know what, that very
evening; all the African could say was
that his master hail twice visited a sick
ly-looking man, whom the servant hail
seen somewhere as a preacher, and that
Marthen was to go there again that very
evening and meet the sickly man in a
garden. The servant suspected a wed¬
ding, for his master hail ordered his
dress suit and spring overcoat brushed
with extra care.
Marthen almost lost his head in his
rage, but the detective rapidly laid a plan
to entrap the rascal. He would hire the
negro to steal his master's overcoat and
hat, which he, the detective, would put
on and then call upon the minister, just
after dark, with the hope of success¬
fully assuming the manner and appear¬
ance of the rogue and worming himseU
into the secret. Marthen approved the
plan in general, but insisted upon one
change; he would wear the coat and hat
himself; the detective consented, for,
afxer all, money was what he was work¬
ing for, and he was being well paid for
his services.
The negro was again bribed, and he
not only stole the overcoat and hat, bfil
named the hour at which his master had
told him he would go out Then the
laithful servant led Marthen to t 4 sickly
minister’s boarding-house, while the de¬
tective prevented the other Marthen
escaping. The other Marthen scarcely
knew what to do; he paced the sidewalk
opposite the designated garden; he saw
figures occasionally enter and emerge,
but none that he could recognize.
Suddenly, however, just after U
plainly-dressed women had passed in, >
thin figure crossed the street and whis¬
pered :
“ She is there.”
Marthen followed the preacher, ■pon¬
dering in what words to break geiftly to
Mrs. Whitlayton the intelligence that the
man she had promised to marry was n
worthless scamp. But before he could
say anything the lady was leaning oi.
his arm, and the minister was saying,
“As night air—ahem—is very danger¬
ous to my lungs—ahem—I know you
will excuse me for losing no time. Ar¬
son Marthen, do you take this woman t
be your wedded wife ?”
Marthen was so astonished that he
could scarcely maintain his position oi
find his tongue. He recovered, how¬
ever, as Mrs. Whitlayton pressed closer
o his side and whispered :
“Speak—quick—if you love me P’
“ I do,” said Marthen, softly, yet
earnestly.
“Yes,” whispered the lady.
“Then,” said the minister, “I pro¬
nounce you mau and wife, and what God
lias joined together let no man put
assunder. Mr. Marthen, I will have the
ertifleate ready in the morning, if you
will send for it.”
“Come away at once,” whispered the
vide. “If the dreadful enemies you
wrote me about should see you, what
would happen ?”
Marthen talked little but thought
.-.ipidly as he drew his wife away and
rapidly along. At the first secluded
spot they reached, lion ever, he placed
Ids arms around her, with one hand
ready to place over her mouth should
dm attempt to shriek, he rapidly ex¬
plained himself. As he had already dis¬
covered Mrs. Whitlayton was not smart
She was so dnzed by all she heard that
she knew nothing but that she had been
legally married to a man whom she had
iK ver seen but twelve hours before, but
whom she had then determined was Yer
much of a gentleman. What coulyt she
do in her delicate position but act ac
cording to his advice, which was that
they should take the night train for Ne\
York and go to her husband’s home fin
his mother? So they did, and wb
they reached there, and the son had ex¬
plained to his mother, the bride confided
to her mother-in-law that it seemed she
had known her husband for a year.
And the Anson Marthen who remain 1
a bachelor recovered hat. f
without tcUdUrsi r iv.m<rMw
Hour.
A MODERN GIL BLAS.
A French Mayor Wlio would Make a ( am*
tnl American Confidence Man.
Cliquet, the notary of Mareuil, France,
lias been sentenced at Perigeux, to penal
servitude for life. He was a singular
adventurer. He wrote plays and man¬
aged theatres until lie spent the fortune
he inherited. In 1874 ho arrived in the
country of Perigord, tlie promised land
of swindlers, where dupes are many and
capital abundant. He had excellent
manners, nssumiug airs of fascination
with the pretty girls of the neighborhood
and airs of severity with his clients. His
theatrical experiences enabled him to
pose as a man of letters. He related the
triumphs which his plays had won and
the fluttering welcome which literary
Paris hail accorded lmn. He came to
know all the notabilties of Mareuil, and
borrowed money right and left on their
behalf. He signed innumerable notes
with the names of M. de Pindray, M. de
Chassang, M. de Galard de Beam, who
are distinguished forgeries people in hundred those parts.
His wore three and
eiglity-one in all. The losses of his cli¬
ents amounted to 240,000 francs.
During these operations lie came up to
Paris and presented himself at the house
of a rich banker. “Iam the Count de
la Cote,” said he, “ and have vast estates
in Perigord, francs.” I “Who wish you to lend me
50,000 are your refer¬
ences,” asked the banker. “Forrefer
enoes, he replied, “I refer yon to M.
Cliquet, notary at Mareuil.” With that
he proceeded to Mareuil ns quickly as the
•rain would carry him. There he found
a letter from the banker, to whom he re¬
plied that the Count de la Cote belonged
to a most distinguished wholly family, that his
estates were large and unenenm
liered. He had forged a seal resembling
that of a keeper: of mortgages at Mon
tron, and sent the banker a certificate
affirming that the Count had raised no
previous loan on the laud. He followed
the letter and certificate to Paris. The
banker was duped and lent the money.
His success was for a long while un¬
disturbed. He forget! railway passes small by
the hundred. Nothing was too
for his counterfeiting Mareuil, genius. and He was
elected Mayor of when M.
de Pindray, the chief of his victims,
learning by accident of the loans con¬
tracted in his name, informed the police
and had him arrested, the rogue was of¬
fering a splendid clock to the municipal¬
ity. emblazoned with the inscription:
■ ‘ This dock was the gift of Marx- Cliquet,
Mayor of Mareuil.” ft is melancholy
to think that he will spend the rest of
his life in prison. Otherwise he might
have been elected to the Chamber and
risen to be Minister of France .—Few
York Hour.
__
A horse in New Haven having trodden
on a dog's tail, the insulted cur took his
revenge bv jumping into the watering
trough and stirring up the mud until the
water was so bad the horse oowldn’t
drink it. A boy couldn t have behaved
worse-
THE HUMOROUS PAPERS.
WIIAT WE FIND IN THEM TO SJUI.E
OVER THIS WEEK.
CARVING A TURKEY.
The best way to carve a turkey, says
Burdette, is: First—Buy a turkey that
died a natural death at the age of ninety
six years, The bluer the meat the
tougher the turkey. Second—Boast it
until you can strike fire out of its breast
with a whet-stone. Third—Use the
carving knife all year for splitting kind¬
ling wood, opening fruit cans, joining
stove pipe, potting home plants, digging
fish wonns and scraping knife brick.
Fourth—Put the turkey on a platter two
sizes smaller than the bird. Fifth—Set
the gravy close to the fowl on one side
and something else easily spilled on the
other. Sixth—Then invite your guests
and then invite a young man who has
not yet learned to swear, to carve thi*
sacrifice. He will learn in six minutes.
To carve? Oh, the gods pity you, no,
no, no; not to carve.
JUST LIKE SOME OF THEM.
At noon yesterday there were half a
dozen idlers at the foot of Woodward
avenue, some asleep, some looking des¬
pondent, and two who had just assured
a pedestrian that they must have work
at some price or starve. A gentleman
suddenly stepped out of an office and
approached one of these menand said:
“You look like an honest man.”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“And you are a hard worker.”
“I am that.”
“I presume you could be trusted in
any capacity.”
“Oh, I know I could.”
“Well, I have a job for you. Our
porter at the Sixth National Bank has
left us and we must fill his place. The
only thing—that is—you see—”
‘ ‘Do you want a recommend ?” asked
the man, as the other hesitated.
“Oh, no, no, no ! You see, we have
been paying the other man $4,000 per
year, and—and—”
“And what, sir ?”
“Well, the board has decided to out it
down to $3,500.”
“Then don’t you take it!” said the
man’s partner.
“Then I woii’t! If I ain’t worth as
much as the other man was, the board
can do its own sweeping!”
The gentleman walked back into the
office the winner of a box of cigars. He
had wagered that he would offer the
man $3,500 a year, and that it would be
refused .—Detroit Free Press.
PECK'S SUNBEAMS.
“It has cost over one hundred and
fifty thousand dollars per year to main¬
tain the pleasure yachts for the queen
and princes of England.” If it costs as
KlbyAS that to T^nrarplsaarzta -yacht,
Jay Gould is not going to make much
by selling his newspaper and going into
the pleasure yacht business. He could
lose more than that with his newspaper,
and besides have a good deal more fun.
The suit brought by a New York man
against a Pennsylvania railroad for thir¬
ty thousand dollars, for the loss of a leg
in an accident was decided against tb.6
man because he rode on a pass. If the
railroad company think they can frighten
newspaper men into paying their fares
by any such means they will get left.
Editors have rode on posses too many
years to be frightened off by one suit ol
this kind.
It is reported that a vast amount ol
money will now have to be spent in re¬
pairs of the Atlantic cable. The great
strain upon the cable ii> sending over
such a large number of Bussian names
averaging from six inches to four feet in
length, for that long and exciting period
during the coronation exercises has, it is
supposed, nearly ruined the entire cable
system.
Joke on a Commissioner.
A train on the New York Central and
Hudson River Railroad stopped below
Spuyten Duyvil a few days ago on ac¬
count of a hot journal, which was blaz¬
ing up and threatened to set fire to the
car. The moment the car stopped the
rear brakeman ran back with a red flag
to stop any coming train. The conduc¬
tor went to the last car to see that the
brakeman was doing his duty, and then
set to work to cool the journal. While
he was occupied with this task a man of
dignified appearance approached.
“What did that man go back with tha
red thing for?” he asked. The conduc¬
tor paid no attention to him and he re¬
peated the question. Finally he re
marked to the unmindful, conductor:
“Do yon know who I am?” The con¬
ductor replied that he did not, and what
was more, did not care a continental
“I am a Railroad Commissioner, Sir.’
The conductor, nothing daunted, re¬
torted that *he Commissioner ought to
know without askiug what a red flag
meant .—Hew York Time*.
CLIPPINGS.
On the platform— “And to yon, kind
teachers, who have watched over ns
with such solicitous care, and have so
carefully trained us to love the beautiful,
the true, and the good, we bid an affec
tionate, though a sorrowful farewell.”
At home—“Well, I’m just glad school
* over, for if any girl was tortured to
joath with useless lessons and merciless
U , ;u , hers j ^ that girl. Oh what a re
. . that mv education is fin
-
l-ueu. (Sty - Derrick,
.
TOO MUCH COMPETITION.
‘You have always had the reputation
of being an honest man—how, then, is it
that you have been guilty of theft?’
asked an Austin Judge of a man who
had been arrested with stolen property
in his possession.
“It is not my fault, Judge. It is the
fault of the age in which we live. The
upright man who strives to make an
honest living now-a-days, can’t do it,
unless he steals. There is too much
competition .”—Texas Siftings.
An Equal Division. —An uncommon
step in the division of the property was
taken by the legatees of the late Amasa
Stone, of Cleveland. Ohio. They found
that one or two of Mr. Stone’s relatives,
and ones to whom he was especially par¬
tial, had been forgotten in his will. A
meeting was called, the matter talked
over, and it was finally agreed that
every one should set aside some portion
of his or her bequest and thus make up
an equal amount for those not provided
for. Such was done, and as an unusual
occurrence in such matters deserves
special mention.
The latest "American” story going
the rounds of the European press is
that of a traveler of that nationality who
found it necessary to excuse his inability
to join in the hilarity of other travelers
because of his poverty. “Gentlemen,”
said he, “I know I am more or less of a
saturated blanket on this party; but the
fact is I am a very poor man—steeped
to the lips, I may say, in impeeuniosity.
When I tell you, in strict confidence,
that this is my wedding tour, and I have
been compelled to leave my wife at home,
you can form an idea of the narrowness
of my resources.”
Merchant— “The article is first class,
madam; and $1.50 a yard is very cheap.
If we hadn’t got four months’ time on it
—if we hadn’t bought it on credit—wo
couldn’t sell it to you at that price. If
we had paid cash, it would have cost $2
a yard, madam.” Mrs. Brown—“Yes,
I know it must be cheaper to buy on
time. My husband tells me to purchase
iill I can get on credit. I think I’ll
take sixteen yards, and you can just
charge it to Mr. Brown .”—Texas Sift¬
ings.
A package containing two drafts, one
for $1,000, another for $2,000, and a five
dollar gold piece, belonging to a lady in
Beauregard, Miss., was found 110 miles
from that place, having been blown
there by a cyclone. It takes a cyclone
to “rmise the wind,” and you will always
find more or less breeze where there is
a draft .—Norristown Herald.
Mamie having been helped twice to
everything on the table, slid down, when
the coflee came in, from her chair, with
a sigh. “Therenow,” said her mamma,
“I suppose you have eaten so much that
yo# feel uncomfortable.” “Don’t,” re¬
plied Mamie, aniokly, with a toss, of her
little head, “I only just feel nice and
smooth.”— Harper’8 Bazar.
“Say, Pat, what ever made you go to
work for Uncle Dan ? He’s the meanest
man in the country.” “Mane is it?”
said Pat; “why, sure an’he’s the foinest,
aisyest-goin’ master iver I had, bedad;
he gives a man fifteen hours to do a day’s
work in.”
Teacher— “In the sentence, ‘Mary
loves John,’ what does ‘John’ agree
with ?” Bright scholar—“With Mary.”
Teacher—“With Mary ! How do you
make that out?” Bright scholar—
“ ’Cause Mary wouldn’t love him if he
didn’t agree with her.”
Suing the Saloon Man.
Mrs. Davis forbade John Doyle, a
saloon keeper at North Adams, Mass., to
sell her husband any more rum. “As
long as he has money to buy until,” said
Doyle, “he can get drinks at my bar.”
Davis abused this privilege by getting
drunk at once, and while in that condi¬
tion had both legs cut off by a locomo¬
tive. Mrs. Davis got a verdict of $7,500
against Doyle,- and the supreme court
has confirmed it. Suits with similar re¬
sults are constantly tinder being civil brought in
numerous States damage
laws which are substantially alike in their
provisions. In San Francisco a society
has been formed to prosecute such cases
free of charge.
A Panther Story. —Paul du Chaillu
could hardly rake up a better panther
story than the following from the Polatka
(Fla.) Herald :—“On Sunday last three
colored men were ont deer hunting Rollstown. near
White’s log camp, back of
One of them was at his stand. The dogs
were heard coming in that direction.
Soon there was a terrible commotion in
the bushes, the sound coming toward
him. The darkey, thinking it was shot, a when deer,
stepped so as to get a fair
suddenly a tremendous panther con¬
fronted'him. Hearing a noise behind
he looked round and, to his surprise and
horror, saw another in a tree, which he
fired at and killed just as it was in the
act of springing upon him. The other im¬
mediately escaped, much, as the darkey,
says, to his delight. The one they killed
measured seven feet, and the negro esti¬
mates the male to have been twice as
large.”
“Mamma, I wish I was a prairie “Why, hen,” dar¬
eaid a little nine-year-old. “Oh, those
ling?” asked the mother.
hens they sent to the Prince of Wales
are going to be turned into the royal
preserves, and I know the Queen must
have a lot of good things in the pantry.”
The Apache Indian, it is said, can
march from thirty ..... to forty , . miles a day ,
without becoming tired. It is really a
pity that the Apache cannot be civilized,
for he would be just the fellow toaccom
l»ny his wife on a shopping excursion,
HIGH-PRICED BRIDES.
WHAT IT COSTS TO HAVE THE NUP¬
TIAL, KNOT TIED IN UIGH-LIFE.
Roses at Thirty Dollars a Piece—A Small
Fortune in stationery—An Introduction
to the Accomplished Air. Johnson.
[From the New York Journal.]
“ A New York fashionable wedding is a
very expensive thing,” said a prominent
New-York carterer of Fifteenth st.
“Of coarse, ’said the reporter, “the
bride’s clothes cost a great deal, and
perhaps the groom has to pay the minis¬
ter a large sum, but do the other ex¬
penses amount to much ?”
“The bride’s outfit is something I
don’t know worthing about. If a wed¬
ding is coming off, the bride’s father or
mother or uncle or somebody comes to
me and says : ‘ I am going to have a
wedding and I want you ‘say, to furnish for
it.’ ‘All right,’ I ‘haw many
guests ?’ ' Well, about three hundred to
the reception.’ Then I set to work to
calculate what kind of a table they want.
“ How much per guest,” interrupted
the repoiter, “does it take for a very nice
wedding collation ?”
“Well, I can set a very pretty table
for SI. 50 per head. That will include
ices, bouillion, cake, jellies, bonbons,
several kinds of salads, sandwiches,
flowers, china, waiters and all.”
“What else beside the above menu
would people want ?”
“Oh! many thanks. Champagne,
oysters, a spiced fish which cost $20—
more, if he is a nice fellow; cold meats,
etc. These are all expensive things, and
of course I have to charge for them. ”
“Do you include the wedding cake in
the $1.50 estimate ?”
“Not generally. You see it costs us
about 20 cents for each box full. The
box costs a few cents, the whole white
satin ribbon that ties it about 8 cents,
and the cake about 10 cents. Each box
costs the person who orders it about 35
cents, which just multiplied by 300
cents, comes to $105. You can always
tell a swell wedding by the cake that is
served to you.”
“How do you go about serving a wed¬
ding collation?”
“I send my head man to inspect the
dining-room and kitchen. Then the
dishes and silver are sent, the kitchen
being given entirely into the hands of
my men. They set the table, mix the
salads, turn out the ices, etc., and just
before the guests come I go over and see
if everything is going smoothly. Some
caterers take everything left over away
with them. It is a bad thing to do.
The family like the remains of the feast
so much. And it is really of po use to the
caterer except for the waitejft.-lay^ caterer^ , -
As the reporter left the
encountered and rather Johnson. goffe-lookingT^sT , Johnson jM>
young
He takes charge of the carriages aLu the
admittance of guests at every fashion¬
able affair. He is to be seen standing
under the awning of the mansion at
which the ball or wedding is occurring,
and calls the numbers of the carriages,
helps the ladies out, keeps rogues away
and knows everybody.
“Why,” said a young lady, “there is
never the least danger of anyone but
those we desire getting into a house as;
long as Johnson is at hand. You can:
trust him entirely. And everyone is
sure to get their own carriage, too.
He is worth his $100 or $200 a night,
and beside he often has men to assist
him.”
“Flowers,” said a florist to a reporter,
“cost money. But there are several
ways of decorating a house. I can make
pretty decorations for $75 to $100, and I
can make decorations for $500. From
$100 to $200 is the general layout, how
ever. That will include the church also.
You see we place the palms, ferns, and
growing plants about the chancel, but
we take them all back again. But a
wedding bell, a horn of plenty, and
baskets of roses cost the money.”
“What are the other expenses ol
weddings besides the flowers and sup¬
pers ?” he was asked.
“There are the carriages at $2 to $5
apiece. The bride’s family orders about
four besides their own; and there are
the awnings at the house and church, at
$15. apiece, and about $25 to the sexton
and $10 for the use of the church, and
then there are the invitations—a big bill
in themselves. People send cards to
hundreds they do not invite. Take for
instance Mrs. Vanderbilt’s ball. She
invited 1,200 people. For invitations,
directing and delivery it cost her over
$600. Now, let ns figure up. For the
breakfast—$1.50 a head for 300 people,
$450; flowers, $200; wedding cake, $105;
awnings, $30; Johnson, $100; carriages,
$40; clothes, $300; in all, $1,195. I
think I’ll just get married and go with¬
out the wedding ”
The Oath. —Mr. E. Williams, of Fins¬
bury, London, tells of the laxity * of
morals of the people who take oaths. He
says that “some time ago he was on the
jury in a case which lasted for seven
days, and they heard evidence for the
plaintiff and defendant, and at the end of
the seven days he ventured to say that
there was not a single man, on the one
side or the other, who had given evi¬
dence, who had no t perjured himself.”
A Tor*} man from New York thought
he would like to be a farmer, and the
first day he tried it he came into the
house with his clothes in shreds, blood
him, flowing from his nose and filth all over
and in response to his wife’s in¬
quires as to what was the matter, said
he had been milking the cow.