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THE WEEKLY TRLFSttRAPH: TUESDAY* DECEMBER 11.1888 -TWELVE PAGES.
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^ ^ , GTitm LVfisswtaru**;•?** /. x - ---c : .
«irfiQ rNG TENDER. TOE storm came along and filled thebell^wltli
FlStii' j snow so thatthey remained silent and the
j fish escaped. In Wisconsin the ice fishers
fasten a lath in the ice so that it stands
upright at one side of the hole. The line
is passed over a notch in the top of the
lath and hangs down in a loop, tho end of
the line being fastened to the middle of
the lath. A piece of flannel is attached
to the loop. When a fish pulls at the line,
the rag is hoisted to the top of the lath
ginng the signal to the watchful fisher
man.
The plan of signalling is reversed at
Lake Champlain. The fish pulls down the
flag instead of hoisting it. A reel is made
out of pine one half inch thick, two inches
wide and sixteen inches long. This is
placed across the hole, with the line at
tached, sane slack being allowed to re
main on the ice to give the fish play when
hooked. A limber twig about two feet
loDg is stuck into the ice near the hole,
and a loop in the line is placed over the
twig. A piece of red flannel fastened to
the loop serves as a flag, and is in view
until a bite on the line pulls the signal off
of the twig. This style of tip up has the
advantage of attracting attention when
ever there is a bite, whether the fish is
caught or not. The tip-ups that drop back
into place, when the fish escapes from the
hook, and fail to attract attention unless
they happen to be seen at the instant,
while good in other respects require more
witching. There is danger of the bait
being taken off the hook without the fish
erman’s knowledge. A good way to tell
when the minnow is on the hook and alive
is to attach a cork or a small piece of wood
to the line where it enters the water. The
minnow will keep this bobbing around on
the water as long as he is all right, but if
hungry pickerel carries him oil', the cork
will not move.
Fishing parties are made up in nearly
all of the towns and smaller cities that are
in the vicinity of any lakes in which
pickerel or rock bass abound. If the dis
tance from the 1 >ke is more than a few
miles, the party starts one day in advance
and puts up at some convenient hostelry.
The fishing is not attempted until ice four
or five inches thick has formed, as an jn-
voluntary bath on a cold day is not in
cluded in tho sport. A still day, whether
it be clear or cloudy, is preferable to.
windy one.
Operations at the lake are commenced
at daylight. The party are warmly clad.
Strong leatter boots, a heavy suit of wool
goods, a iur cap and a pea jacket make a
good rig. A fire of dead branches and
old rails is built at a convenient place on
the shore, and one of the parly left in
charge. The others take axes and.pro
ceed to the ice. Catting the holes! is no
easy task, especially if th* ice is very
thick.
Unicss some member of the parlyis fa
miliar with the haunts of the tish in the
A FAMOUS AMERICAN
Capital Sport for a Winter
pay on River and Lalce.
A TO CUT HOLES IN THE ICE.
Ooiat Requiredi and How the Fish
Onnght—The Iuilinn Method Be-
>r .orlbed Fully—The Profit*
of a Catch.
1 Oorwtpondence Macon Telegraph.
YOKK. Nov. 23.—There is nothing
likes day on the ice for the congested
. c j a congressman, and I hear that a
r *|. of old sports, headed by Tom Reed
^ Sunset Cox are soon to try it.
Sot on skates, nor in an ice-boat, but on
, , nil b books, lines and tip ups. The
‘ J .° r weather that seals up lakes and
° fl .. m that the coy trout and sportive
. are eMe from the wiles of fishermen,
rovides mother form of sport. Although
L deceptive fly cannot be cast upon the
water, and the gilded spoon can no longer
be milled beneath its surface, to lure the
oedolous fish to its doom, yet fishing
•kmneh the ice remains.
*Uany small lakes in different sections of
country are well stocked with pickerel
“ j ,i ir ce gamy fish afford excellent sport,
flare a hungry fish always reaify to
bile and oaee hooked, make a stubborn
i,h’tbefore they surrender. The method
,(their capture is not difiicnlt. I-carned
J. McNeill Whistler on His
Way to America.
HOW LONDON’S GREATEST WIT LOOKS
now TUK INDIAN DOES IT.
wi(finally from the primitive dweller by
the lake shores-the dusky Indian-it has
been improved upon by the arts of civiii-
ntion and is cow a popular sport ihrpugh
the Eastern and Middle States. It has also
many followers in the West. The few In
dians remaining in W iseonsm and Michi
gan still fish in their own way,
tad earn a good living . from
the sale of their captures, to white men
who ship them to' the Milwaukee
and Chicago markets. They cut a hole of
about eighteen inches in diameter in the
ice, and build a rough house of boughs
over the spot. The house is intended to
make it dark at the opening in tho tee.
The Indian provides himself with a rough
irtn spear and a minnow attached to a
string. He then lies flat on the tec. The
minnow attracts the larger fish, hilt be
fore they can close their, jiws on lt. Uic
ip«ar utfwiiuD »r»u l»*v is cap.ure ..
Ihe Indians get only two and three cents
a pound tor the fish, but they frequently
make a dollar a day.
As a winter sport ( fishing through the
let has many attractive features. A day a
outing in the crisp cold air is exhilarating
and healthful in the extreme. A follower
of the (port can bid defiance to dyspepsia
and moat of the ills that flash is heir to,
and aside from the physical benefit, he
can, if he has good luclt, supply his own
table with excellent fish and have some to
ipaie for his friend-.
The paraphernalia of a summer angler
—rods, reels, leaders, flies and nets—is
nut inquired for the winter sport. The
expense of an elaborate outfit is accord,
ingly aaved, and as the finesse of. the
sogfer’i art—the casting of the fly—is not
employed, those who are not experts can
enjoy the aport. The appratrs necessary
consists of about forty short lines, provided
with strong hooks, ami attached to a reel
nude out of a piece of wood. Then a tip-
up is required for every line thnt is to be
wh This is the contrivance that signals
the fishermen when the fish is caught.
There arc doiens of ways of making tip
“l>s. Every old fisherman thinks he knows
• little more about them than any one
•be, and will take great pains to inform
”ery novice just how the tip-ups should
» nude. Ono of the oldest and most pop
ular medial* U to place a round stick flat
on the ice and so that it reaches scrors the
no!e. Then cut a stick with a crotch in
it. One limb of the crotch shuild be six
inches long and the other twelve inches
kng. Attach the line to the longer one,
wd place the shorter so that it will fit
«rer the cross-stick with its butt resting on
the ice and having a red rag tied to it to
wive is a flag. When there is a bito the
* l 8goes up and notifies the fisherman.
Another device is made out of a half-
jnch pine board. A piece eighteen inches
tong and tapering from three inches wide
•tonsend to one inch wide at the other
j« cut out. A three-quarter-inch hole is
t*ted in the piece of wood about eight
inches from the small end, a small atick
" P^red through the opening as it is
A West Point Cm!ft Who Went to the Old
WurUl anti l« Hrlneing Hack tho
Greatest Art Ilesmmtlcm of
Modern Ilmen.
Special Correspondence Telegraph.
Losdon, Nov. 111.—The interviewers of
the New York press have some work
ahead. They are about to encounter a
lamb who willJnot be dumb ^before the
American shearer. By thejtiine this ap
pears in the Telegraph Mr. James Abbott
McNeill Whistler, master of brush and
etching needle, prince of J persiflage and
badinage and (he greatest wit in all \ Lon
don will, if present plans do not miecarry,
have passed the lime of day with the cus
tom officers off 8taten Island. It is his
first visit to the states sines he left them
ns a lad to begin his student life in Paris.
He eaine to the Old World without money
or friends. lie takes hack a reputation
that will endure as long as art. Since his
marriage in August he has been at work
in the cathedral towns of France,
with headquarters at Tours, etching and
painting for a Whistler exhibition which
will open at Wunderlich’s gallery, in
Broadway near Seventeenth street, soon
after his arrival. Mrs. Whistler, nee God
win accompani?sliim and social New York
will therefore be given the opportunity of
seeing the intereiting couple together.
Mrs. Whistler is in every sense of the word
a society woman. She isa strikingly hand
some brunette with a winning grace.of
manner and an intclli, cnee and vivaci.y
that go far to explain how tho knight ol
the white lock came to be led captive at
lilt.
With the exception ol Continental
Tim DlI-KKHKNT TIP-L*IU.
i,'E d * cro “ the hole in Ihe ice. The bait
!i» * *' Uc hed to lb small etd. A bite
j ar K er end, which may be
•tire.!, *° *t W >H the more readily
the fisherman. Ailin'-
»hn |. , P cr t*nian at Lake Ifopatcong.
leT,rt *n having tome fun tUb
tkn„. n . M * the ordinary jumping-jack of
Iftv **•?**’ He buys them in lots of
ilinii- *, ? n< i *usp«nds them from
.a fastened firmly into a hole
m, fo* The line to which the hook
•tri are attached ts fastened to the
Wki! , , WorkB the legs and arm*
sen a pickerel taka* hold of the hook
t'rtiMe thwlk° f th ' JunpicK-jAck are ro
tin,; '“It the man on dutv wastes no
Still ***. K lh< r,! t" t'ke the fish off.
•Ittt.li? 0 ’.. original device waa ihe oac
, belli attar | le d lo t i, e lines. Tin
“th.- line of a good ,i*«d fish
the’belli ring merrily, hut a *now 1
GETTING ACCESS TO THE FINNY TRIBE,
lake selected, a local fisherman is em
ployed to act as guide. The best places
usually lie frqm fifty to a hundred yards
from shore, and where tho depth of tlic
water ranges from ten to twenty.feet. The
mouths ol small covis and positions oppo
site the outlets of creeks are good fishing
grounds.
The holes in the ice are cut in a straight
line parallel with the shore, if the shore
is regular, or across tho bays and coves, if
the chord is irregular. A long row of
holes in a single line, or two or three
shorter rows tide by side are cut accord
ing to the locality, and to the gradual or
rapid increase in depth of tho water. The
holes are square, and from ten inches to
one foot across. The distance apart
should not be lees than fifteen feet and
twenty feet is better. One man can at.
tend to from thirty to forty hole-, unless
the fish are very numerous and hungry—
tl’en die will need a helper to bait the
hooks while he takes off the captures.
The bait used are minnows from three
to four inches in length. They are caught
by the thousands in the fall beforo the
lakes and streams freeze, and kept in tanks
in the II ll.tr until they nr.- wnnle I f..r the
ice fishing. Some of the more enthusiastic
fishermen have elaborate arrangements for
keeping tho bait, and have a supply on
hand at alltimisof the year. The lines
are about fifteen feet in length and each
one is wound on a rough reel made of
piece of cigar box wood. The hook
passed through the minnow just forward
of the tail, being careful not to strike the
backbone, or it is fastened in the minnow’s
mouth. A bungler will maim the bait so
they will not swim naturally in the water,
but after a few frantic struggles they be
come exhausted and die without attracting
the game. When properly put in the hook
the minnow will live a couple of hours tin
less he is gobbled up by a hungry pick
erel.
The size of the fish caught vary front the
small ones weighing thrcc-quarlci* of a
pound each, to those of good size weighing
time pounds each. Occasionally u big
fellow five or even six pounds in weight is
cap ured. The large ones are very likely
to gel away either Ly breaking tne hook
or teasiDg it out of their jaws, unless the
attendant is nearby and handles the line
carefully when he takes hold of it. A good
dav’scatch for a party is from fifty to one
hundred pounds. Of course they cook a
fish dinner over the camp fire, and by Bum
down they are ready to start for home.
David Wechsler.
rings out like a bell, regardless of place or
time. In street dress he looks not unlike
a gentleman of the old school. This im
pression is highlened by a very flal-brim-
med silk hat uniformly worn low down on
the forehead that the while lock may not
be disarranged. His frock coat is of a
dark, quiet pattern, buttoned close, with
a black overcoat of similar irreproachable
style. He wears nothing loud or pro
nounced and no jewelry of any kind. In
his apartments, minus his hat and over
coat, the old-fashioned effect referred to is
lessened if it does not entirely disappear.
He then, so far as costume goes, looks not
unlike hundredsof other well-dressed gen*
indignity and I dare say that he enjoyed
the checkmate more than he would
have the money. Ilis action was
thoroughly characteristic. Si was
his letter last month to the committee
on . awards of the International .Exhi
bition of Munich upon receiving the an
nouncement that he had voted a medal of
the second class. It may be doubted,
however, if they felt the full force of the
satire conveyed when he wrote of his ap
preciation of the second class compliment
they had seen fit to bestow and how the
announcement sustained and soothed him
with a serene and tempered joy.
Mr. Whistler has a wav somewhat rare
tlemen who live within easy call of the in these days of Bocial hypocrisy, of eay-
w> ~-‘ w—i *—* *— » rl — “ ,u — *•" ing what he' thinks on all occasions. If
MR. Wl^STI.ER AND II13 AUTOGRAPH,
sketching tours mote or lisa prolonged,
Jlr. Whistler has made London his home
for many yeare. Here his brother. Dr.
Whistler, lives, a leading surgeon with a
wide practice, and here arc '.befriends and
haunts endeared to him by long associa
tion. He has always resided in lint part
of London called Chelsea, a section of
the city lying southwest of Piecadily and
along that lower sweep of the Thames
where the Chelsea embankment beautifies
tho rivir. The street is a short thorough
fare learRpfr down tu ihe emu inkin', lit. and
ibe river end of it is one of the most pict-
uresquo spots in London. The houses,
though varying in size and tint and style,
appear to have been built with a view to a
given result,-blending into a form and
color with a compactness that ia charming.
Here is the famed White House where Mr.
Whittier lived so long l now tenanted hv
Mr. Harry Quilter ( editor of the Universal
Review whom he ridicules and riddleg ’ in
public print on every possible occasion. Ho
West End tailors. When walking he
swings in one of his slender hands a long,
thin wand that can he termed a cane only
by courtesy.
As for the personality of the man,
which is vastly more important than the
mere accident of dress, nerve and grit are
written ail over him, in the set lines of
his determined face, his springy elastic
walk and the precision of his every move
ment. X should say that hie chief charac
teristics were a microscopic analysis,
intense power of concentraiion,unbounded
perseverance, magnetic qualities of a rare
order and a confidence and sell-assertion '
liinitlefs as vhe horiaon. Mr. Whistler
now prints all hia etchings himself, having
long ago determined never to sell another
plate, nor permit one to pass out of his
immediate control.
Mr. Whistler ia not a rich man, tho re
verse rather IIow far this result may be
due to a lack of proper management, it is
not necessary to inquire. The tact remains
that he has never reaped large pecuniary
profits from his art, I doubt whether he
ever received a big price for a picture in
his whole life as a successful royal acStne-
diian would understand the word. His
etchings, however, yield an income that
can always be depended on. Some of them
that are out of print commend fancy
price*, while his current work even is bo-
yond tile reach of moderate puzscs. Hia
proi'notions are little known in the states.
Mr. S. P. Avery, the retired New York
picture Cealer, has, perhap , the most com-
pleie collection of Whistler etchings in the
United States. Apart from him tlure aro
not more than three Americans
who can justly claim . repre
sentative collections. Mr. Whistler
sells best is England and Scotland, where
he is appreciatid as nowhere else. That
he has not made more money is no strange
matter. Innovators such as ho rarely reap
a money reward commcnsuraie with the
value of their semen to art, Hij brush
and needle hare never been degraded, anil
his contempt (or convention and defiance
ot the pirvenu are proverbial. In 1885, at
the time ol the dcliviry of the “Ten
O’clock,” Mr. D'Oylcy Carte made him an
unusually advantag ous oiler to repeat
the lecture in the larger cities of America.
Such a tour would p obably nave netted
him more money than lie could cam with
his brush in years, but ho declined the
offer and many similar ones. To a party
who was after him to lecture in the states
lie once wrote these wordi:
11 That you should impose that I should
make art talks from Hew York to Chicago
only bIioss tour want of appreciation of
that sublime work (The ‘Ten O’clock’),
which involved, I idny confess years of
preparation and lisa left me clothed in the
dignity of silence and comcioui that any
thing inferior in quality m 1 st never he
given utterance to by its author. I cer
tainly would not undertake to he turned
on in haiie ail over that vast continent.”
Last spring Mr. Arthur Melville, an
Edinburghartiat shocsn painthette, water
colors than any man living, and who is a
great admirer and friend ol Mr. Whistler's,
wrote on behalf if some public spirited
Scotchman oflering a large money guaran
tee, if he would name an evening and de-
JI... ihc'-TcaO'clecE” in Edinburgh. The
letter was never answered. M-etinghim
a few weeks later in Loudon, Mr. Melville
naturally inquired if he had re-eived it.
“Oh, yea,” was the re-pmu*. "I get
many such, many such”—aud that, so far
as Mr. Whistler went was all tlure was
to it. Mr. Melville relates the incident
with infinite sent ani caps the climax by
the assertion that Mr. Whialler acted pei-
fectly right.
A story ia current of tho famons por
trait of Carlyle, completed wh»ii the
gouty old philosopher and Mr. Whistler
were near neighbors at Chelsea. It was
painted without recompense as a labor of
love—for Carlyle had al> lie could do to
make both ends meet without bothering
his head about pictures—but though con
sidered a wonderful presenlment of the
original, henever been purchaeed. Once
a ptiblicsnbscriplion was started in Scot
land to buy and preient it to one of the
publie galleries<>f Glasgow or Edinburgh
New Stale* ■■<! l'ulltlc*.
From the New York Time*.
The question whether a territory is en
titled to admission as a state ought of
course to be decided without, reference to
the political opinions or affiliations of its
inhabitants. But it is equally a matter of
course that it will not be so decided while
human nature ami American politics re
main what they are. The im quality of
size and population among the original
slates was a miifortune. li tres absolutely
neces-nry, however, to preserve it and to
embody it in Ihe constitution in order to
obtain the assentpf ihe smaller slates to
that instrument. It ii uow a part of the
fundamental law, and however we may
grumble at the disproportionate |H>lilicai
influence cf Rhode Island and Ilelawsre
nobody tmsgir.ta that it will l»e bs-cned
while the form of our kovermmmt mn-
tianee.
insists that he has buried ’Ary, as he cliaf-
fiingiy styles him, at the point of his pen
but that the corpae lacks nidi ient compre
hension to appreciate its deplorable posi
tion. The feud between the two near neigh
bor* L a laughable one in that tho artist
steadfastly refuse) to recognize the journ
alist as a living actuality. The Tower house,
No. 23 Tito strict, where Mr. WhLtler now
lives, is the tallest building in the street.
It contains four litis, all with studios
attached. Mr. Whistler’s is two fliglus up,
being in the third hom the ground. It
comprises n spat ions studic, dining-room
and bedroom and ante-chamber, with
kitchen and servant’* room above. The
whole interior i* flooded with a wealth of
golden color, two tints of pale yellow,
which blend harmoniously together and
in conjunction with the. yellow hangings
create the effect of summer sunshine.
Against this background blue and white
china, ferns and quaint old mahogany reBt
so perfectly that at a glance one feels what
a marvelous master of color planned the
whole.
Mr. Whistler can be of any age. At all
times he has the vivacity and snap of
25. He ia always on the qui vive, buoy
ant,alert and brimful of an eager energy.
No man living ever had a greater flow of
animal spirits. The very antithesis of
the dilettante he derides who “forced to
serionsness that emptiness may be hidden
dare not smile,” he, bimself,“in fullness of
heart and beau is glad, and laughs and ia
happy in his strength and is merry at the
pompous pretension, the solemn silliness
that surrounds him.” Whatever life may
have held (or him of disappointment the
public has not been invited to partake.
Outwardly he is ever the same, genial and
irrenris-itiic. It is hard to savhnwoldi
he is and it really doesn’t matter. In the
marriage register ol the fa-hioiublt
church of St. Mary Abbott’a Ken
sington, b'» years were indicated ky
the words, "Fnll Age.” If any can
tianslate them into plain numerals they
will know how many summers the great
impresionist has s en. In hight he is
about five fett five and sparingly built.
His face is long and ornamented witn a
moustache and imperial, that tend tu con
ceal the shape of the niou'h. A square
chin and still iquarer forehead are
crowned with a mass of dark hair, touched
with gray, slightly cnrled, and with, one
white lock carefully pu lied back in an
erect potition straight over the renter.
A paii of shaggy eyebrow i beetle over
penetrating, deep-set ejes of gray, that guineas and then
throw everything cine, even the straight, u really mattered
fineiy-mo eied no-e, into the background, emwd of Scotchmen
One "quit k turn of 11.era completes a sen- proved of his hi t. It
lenc*. Another 11 t*h lay* hire the heart bit ion of the Mundi
of a joke without the need of words. sometimes uia queradi
Mr. Whistler’s langh it ns celeb ated as frsnkne-e. Mr. Wh
hia white lock. 1 he reeooanl iiaii I Iiah I a >t chos.-to reel-pii
The artist was asked to name hi* prir • and
he,considering the filness of the end in
view, fixed on four hundred guineas. On
that basis the necessary money was nearly
all raised when it leaked out that the
subscription paprr ingeniously stipulated
that in contributing the subscribers
disclaimed any approval ot Mr. Whistler’s
art or liieoriis. It’* effect on the mast“r’»
excitable mind may be imagined. The way
he met the matter was by wiring the or
ganizers of the movement that the price of
the Carlyle had advanced to one thou<and
. *S5££>’
ii
MU. Wllurn.KKS IS>NDON IISXH
OR dr,
little
ipp-.d. NeW
wlntlier a
improved or di sp
as merely sn exht
g brutality whirl
under ihe i aim- of
1,-r. however, dd
ruler the attruipud
he shaft happens at times to hit a social
or financial power it is to him as all
things were to Mr. Toots, “not of the
slightest consequence.” There is a wealthy
dilettante m London whoso eccentricities
aud vagaries of taste have often made
Mayfair marvel. His immense wealth,
however, causes him to be feared, and to
his face at least, respected. And besides
he gives good dinners.
The dilettante in question had long
sought a visit from Mr. Whistler, but all
efforts to beguile the geuial wit to his
house had proved unavailing. Finally a
mutual acquaintance interceded and a
day and an h»ur were fixed for the gifted
painter to pass judgment on the collec
tion. He kept the appointment, and ' the
accumulated treasures, brought , together
with a lavish hand, were passed in review
before him for critical censure or
approval. Not a word escaped him as
the nho.r progressed save a solemn “H’m,
li’m,” that might be taken to mean any
thing or nothing. His mobile face did
not lighten with eithor smile or frown,
The ililettante was nonplussed. For the
first time in its history his collection had
failed to elicit enthusiasm, either assumed
or real. When the last object in the last
room was reached, and there was no more
to see, Mr. Whistler gazed at his host with
a look of compassionate censure and ex
claimed gravely and without a emile, or
twinkle of the eye:
“ My dear sir, there’s really no excuse
for it—no excuso for it at all."
' Bolting for thoMoor, he secured his hat
and cine, his resonant “Hah I hahl” ring
ing in the ears of the dumbfounded dilet
tante, and the straDge gnest hastened
away. Thejoko leaked out, as Whistler’s
jokes always do, the indiscreot victim hav
ing related it to a friend with the com
ment that “he couldn’t understand Mr.
Whistlfr at a'!, and that he was really q
most incomprehensible person."
Mr. Whistler 1 * connection with and
presidency of the Royal Society of British
A rrists kept the art world of London agog
ns long as it lasted. Tbesociety had been
unable to secure the sanction of royalty
till he to ik hold of it.. Years ago thegenial
Thackeray satirized it as “a safe and se
cluded spot to make an assignation with
a mistress or to. secuae absolute fr^dom
from interruption if solitude was desir
able.” As it was in Thackeray’s time, so
it was down to Mr. Whistler’s accession.
Under his direction it sprang at.once into
prominence. He introduced his scheme
of yellow and white decoration, discarded
the hated dull red dent ask hsp"in<™
banished the glaring fight, secure? tfie
addition of ‘Royal 1 iG the original title of
‘Society of British Artisla/ relegalcd to
the background tho old fogies and Philis
tines whose travesties on nature had for
years cumbered the annual exhibitions,
and infused fresh blood and energy into
every department. Ilia quickness of re
partee was well illustrated on the occasion
of the first visit of the Prince of Wales to
the Society’s Private View. He went only
because he received the invitation from
Ihe witty president, who was on hand to
welcome him at the entrance.
‘•I’m sure," said the prince, as lie paused
a moment si the threshold to glance
around, “I never heard of this society, Mr.
Whiitler. till you brought it to my notice
What is its history?"
“It lias none, your highness," was the
quiet rejoinder; “its history date* from to
day.”
“The American’s continued ascendancy
was, however, too hitler a pill for the mi-
jorityof the society's (members, and last
spring at the annual election of officers
the old crowd mustered in force and suc-
cieded in naming another president. Mr.
Whistler thereupon sent in his resignation
and his friends followed suit. They com
prised the most advanced men among the
members to whoiixa return to .the time
worn ruts would nave been intolerable
after Mr. Whistler’s daihing'.and brilliant
leadership. As tho latter drily remarked
to the interviewer of a London now paper:
“It was a very simple matter. The artists
retired and the British remained."
It was after his celebrated libel suit
against Mr. Buskin, when the. critics
of the London press likened Mr. Whistler
to a butterfly broken on a wheel that be
adopted the'emblem which he now invari
ably employs as a signature both in his
letters and on his pictures.
Mr. Whistler’s struggle to attain his
present position was neither a short nor
an easy one. If written words ever had a
personal meaning to him who penned
them surely these from the “Ten o clock”
had.
" Art seeks the artist alone. Where h
is there she appears-and remains with
him—loviog and fruitful, turning never
aside in moments of hope deferred, of in
sult and of ribald misunderstanding.”
The enthusiasm which he felt as a boy
he still retains. Talking with me the
other evening of his coming trip, he spoke
of the keen relish with which he looked
forward to it, and especially of the pleas
ure he would experience in reviewing the
old scene* at West Point, where hia ambi
tion a* a cadet was to excel in athletics
and mathematic* and pursue the career
of a soldier. It is only another proof of
the * old saying that God disposes where
man propose*. In losing him the United
States government undoubtedly lost a fine
ip—. -U !»•«< fitHniw nmvrt! kind,
rnigbt’have added lustre to 'the service in
the civil war. But what may have been a
lose to mi.ilary science was a great gain to
ut, Sheridan Fobd.
There Are Penal lee Attaoheil.
From the Albeny Argus.
To bec-mie a duchees may gratify the
amt-iiion of a light-headed American wo-
oi*ii, hut there a e penalties attached to
b-c-tning the wife o? a tilled reprnbite
wi.n-h fee outw. ightlie supposed honor.
The Duches* of Marlborough i* probably
o-t-rii red of the f»ct by this time. The
reel r of the parish who refused lo permit
the cl.iu.es lo he rut g in honor of the re-
t iruof the duke to I i» ancestral home, be-
au-e h* tvuM not countenance the irreg
ular marriage ot a divorced man, is to he
honored for hi* independence. The duke
is universally despised in hh own country.
Take Ait) 8ha|>« but That.
From -h#Pelrretoo News.
Tne iih-11 f honoring ti.e -*mth by p'ac
[*.- Mshoot in Mr. Ilarri-m’* cabinet
i* r ilhi-r l'*J ridiniioii* tu lie intuiting.
PRO 1*. HllXI.KV ON ORATOB0.
Opinion of Not**—Good for m Charm
Af*t*ll Nerronanes*.
Vrom tho New York Star.
I forget what veteran public speaker it
was who gave this advice to a beginner:
“Write out your speech; and be eiqiccially
careful about writing the parte in which
you give way to your feelings.” Bat I
believe the counsel to be excellent, and,
on all.important occasions, I have acted
upon it. But I have never committed the
written matter to memory. And that for
ecvcral reasons, of which one, that I could
not if I tried, ia perhaps sufficient. Even
if I could learn a Bpeech by heart, I agree
with Mr. Bright that the burden of goin
through the process would be intolerable.
However, this ii a question of idiosyn
crasy. 1 know of at leaBt one admirable
speaker who is aaiil to learn every word by
heart, and whose charming delivery oniila
no comma of the original. The use to me
of writing, sometimes of rewriting half
a dozen times over, that which I threw
aside when I had finished it, was to make
Bure that the framework of what I had to
8a y—it® logical skeleton, so to speak—was,
bo far as I could see, sound and competent
to bear all the strain put upon it. I very
early discovered that an argument in my
head.was one thing, and fhe same argu
ment written out in dry bare propositions
quite another in point of trustworthiness.
In the latter case, assumptions supposed to
be certain while they lay snug in one’s
brain had a trick of turning out doubtful;
consequences which seemed inevitable
proved to. be less tightly connected with
the premises than was desirable: and tell
ing metaphors showed a curious capacity
for being turned to account by the other
side. 1 have often written " the greater
part of an addreta half a dozen times over,
sometimes upsetting the whole arrange
ment and beginning on new lines, before I
felt I had gotthe right grip of my subject.
A subordinate, but still very important
use of writing, when one has to speak, is
that the process brings before the mind all
tho collateral suggestions which are likely
to arise out of the line of argument
adopted. Psychologically considered,
public speaking is a very singular process.
One-half of the speaker’s mind is occupied
wjth what be is saying; tho other half
with what he is going tossy. And if the
field of vision of the prospective half is
suddenly crossed by some tempting idea
which lias not already been considered,
the speaker is not at all unlikely to fol
low it. Bu( it he does, Ifeavcu knew*,
where lie may lunl npj 6r what bitter re
flections may be in store for him when tho
report of his speech stare* him in the face
next morning." Cynical as the latter part
of the ail vie o which I have quoted may
sound, it is just when the strange intoxi
cation which is begotten by tho hrcathlesa
stillness of a host of absorbed listeners
weakens the reason and opens the Hold-
gates oi feeling that the check of the
calmly considered written judgment tells,
even if its exact words are lorgotten.
As to notes, my experience luay he of in
terest to that unfortunate mortal the aver
age Englishman, who, as you say, finds it
the hardest thing in the world to stand np
and speak for ten minutes withou t looking
or at least feeling, a fool nr a onward, of
that form of suIh-ring Ido not believe that
the average Englishman knows half so
much as I do. For twenty years I pevv-
got up to speak without my tongue cloaer
lug to the roof of my mouth; and, if the
performance waa a lecture, without an idee
lixe that I should have finished all I had
to say long before the expiration ot the
obligatory hour, and, at firs , I clung to
my copious manuscript a* a shipwrecked
mariner to a hencoop. My next stage was
to use brief but still elaborate note*—not
unfrequently, however, having the big
manuscript in my pocket to fall hack upon
in case of an emergency, which, by fthe
briefer and briefer, until I have
known occasions on which they came
down to a paragraph. But the aid and
comfort afforded by that not too legible
scrawl upon a small sheet of paper was
inexpressible. Twice in my lile I have
been compelled tu swim without float* al
together—to renounce even a sheet of
note-paper. On one of these occasions I
had to address an audience, to some ex
tent hostile, upon a topic which required
very careful handling, and f had taken
unusual pains in writing my discourse,
with the intention of practically reading
many parts of it. But the assemblage
was a very large one; and when I came
face to face with it I saw at a glance that
if I meant to he heard, looking at notes
was ont of the question. So 1 took my
courage inntytwo hairds, put my paper!
down, and left them untouched; while th*
discourse, in a way quite unaccountable
to me, rolled itself off as if I bail been a
phonograph, in order and matter, though
not in words, as it wa* written.
On the other occaiion the circumstances
were still more awkward. I had been
obliged to dictate my disc'j'ire-- the day be
fore it was delivered to a shor.hand writer
for the Associated I’resa in the United
States, exacting from him a pledge that he
would supply mo with a fairly written out
copy to bo used as notes. My friend, the
reporter, kept ills word, Slid a couple of
hours before the time of speaking the man
uscript arrived. But, ala* I it was written
on tho thin paper, which I believe is tech
nically called “flimsy.” I could not read
it at any distance with ease, and the at-
ti-inpl to make ore - f i: in speaking would
have been perilous. Sc I bad the comfort
of knowing that the local papers might
have one version and the others another of
my speech. Luckily, no one took the
trouble to compare tho two, ot the discrep-
ancies might have aflorded good ground
for suspicion that my address and myself
were alike mythical.
fir spite of this lolershly plain evidence
that if I were put to it I could very well
do without notes, I have never willingly
bien withont them—at any rate in my
pocket. At public dinner* and ordinary
ntiMl* mMimm (her hire inner ri-iml in
come out; but on more serious occasions I
have always had them before me, though
X very often forgot to look at them, i
think they acted as a charm against that
physical nervousness, which 1 have never
quite got over, and the origin of which has
always been a puazle to me. With every
respect for ihe public, I cannot ray that '
ever fell afraid of an audience; and my
cold hands and dry mouth used to annoy
me when my hearers were only student* of
nty class** much a* at other time*.
The Proposed hale ot 111* I'oilnulor (Ira-
eralship.
From the Cleveland Plain Dealer.
What ha* Wanamaker done that he
should be admitted into President Harri-
ron’s Cabinet? Qn ly supplied the reasons
when ho expressed his desire. He says
Wananiaker should be rewarded by the
republican party husure fie furnished
*100,000 for the republican campaign
fnnd. That’s the republican idea of poii-