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BEHIND THE
FOOTLIGHTS.
Recollections of a Veteran Stage
Manager.
WORLD’S FAMOUS PANTOMIMISTS.
Sketch of the Ravels—Other Famous Fnn
makers—A Fopular Child Acrobat—The
Placide Brothers Genius In a Row
Over a Few Oucumbers.
[Special Correspondence.]
New York, March 16. If panto
mime is the highest form of dramatio
expression, as so many persons declare,
tho Ravels are entitled to high rank in
the theatrical world. Not only have
their equals nev’er been seen, but their
ability has never even been approxi
mated, or, I might say, suggested. They
wero marvels, every one of them, and I
speak advisedly, as I was with them in
many of their most important produc
tions in this country. Of courso, when
I speak of the Ravels, I refer to the four
brothers—Jerome, Antoine, Gabriel and
Francois. They were not really the orig
inal Ravels, but they were the only ones
that this country ever know. Tho man
who made the family name famous in a
most unique field was Jean Ravel, the
father of the men with whom we are
TOM PLACIDE.
familiar. The mother was also a famous
pantomimist, and tho success of the off
spring of this couple in their chosen
profession would, it seems to me, fur
nish a most potent argument in favor of
the theory of heredity, which has lat
terly fallen into disrepute, but which
my extended experience on the stage has
caused me to think is of much moro
consequence than many persons are will
ing to admit.
Tho Versatile Ravels.
I know that tho average individual is
inclined to look down upon the panto
mimist as a very low sort of fellow, a
man who is devoid of everything save
agility and strength. This prejudice
may be to a certain extent justifiable
when tho opinion has been premised on
tho observation of some of the latter
day so called pantomimists. With the
Ravels, however, tho reverse was the
case. They were all gentlemen of refine
ment, education and culture, who sim
ply saw fit to take advantage of the mar
velous gifts with which nature had en
dowed them for the purpose of acquiring
in tho most rapid manner possible a
competency which would enable them
to retire and live in a manner befitting
their tastes. And this they did. The
quartet after accumulating great wealth
went to Toulouse, France, whore they
were born, and, buying four elegant
homes next to each other, settled down
to a life of luxury and ease and charity.
Jerome died at 80, Antoine at 81, Ga
briel at 79 and Francois at 63. Their
father had lived nearly fourscore years.
This certainly speaks volumes for the
correctness of their lives.
What versatile fellows those Ravels
were too! Every ouo of them was a
painter, inventor, pantomimist, musician
and machinist. In their entertainments,
which were arranged by them conjoint
ly, they were cast at different times for
clowns, white knights, harlequins,
gnomes, village swains, old and young
lovers, etc. And, strange as it may ap
pear nowadays, they never had a dis
agreement as to whose part was the best,
each usually insisting that the role of
each of the others required building up
and that his own as it stood necessitated
too much work. Think of this, ye ac
tors of today, who are willing to com
plain a whole week if a “yes” or a
“perhaps” bo taken from you at re
hearsal I •
This strong affection, which was the
predominant characteristic of the Ra
vels, was, in my opinion, the great se
cret of their wonderful success, always,
of course, admitting their transcendent
ability. And it may not bo amiss to
state that they never had a single fail
ure in their entire career. No one of
their many productions was a compara
tive success. All of them wero “un
qualified winners,” as the actors along
the Rialto would express it. My experi
ence with the Ravels was naturally dur
ing the latter half of their career. But
their books amply bear out tho state
ment which I have just made.
Th<" Marzettis and tlie Martinettis.
Perhaps the nearest approach to the
excellence of the Ravels was attained
by the Marzettis and Martinettis, all of
whom were members of their company.
There are descendants of these two fam
ilies now scattered about in this and
other countries, and nearly all of them
are following some branch of the profes
sion in which their ancestors were fa
mous, but none has done anything to
raise him above the common herd, so
far as I have been able to learn. The
Martinettis were most of them of an
acrobatic turn and would have been
considered wonderful if the Ravels had
not been living. The Marzettis were ex
traordinarily good pantomimists and
were also very agile. “Marzettis’ Mon
. jiuy. calk*- ‘•Mr-cntratiillUhefif,
and it was a most amusing one. Their
antics were a source of delight to thou
sands of children, and they were natural
to an almost incredible extent. All of
the Marzettis and Martinettis are dead.
Great os were the Ravels and great
as was the furore which their coming
never failed to excite, their star sensa
tion was made by one of their pupils,
who was only 6 years old. In the paint
room at Niblo’s at the time of which I
write there was employed a man named
Hazlam. He managed to eke out a liv
ing, but nothing more. One day, while
Gabriel Ravel was watching the artists
at work, a little boy of about 6 entered,
and goiug up to Hazlam engaged him
familiarly in conversation. Gabriel was
struck by the phenomenal beauty of the
child’s face no less than by the sym
metry ana sturdiness of his frame and
the air of confidence which seemed to be
natural to him. He learned that the boy
was Hazlam’s son, and it was not long
before the arrangements had been made
whereby he was to become an apprentice
to Gabriel. The little fellow was treated
with the greatest kindness and consid
eration, but his athletic training went
Steadily forward. Gradually the beauti
ful little body began to develop, and tho
pupil was so apt and daring and withal
so oareful that Gabriel freely predicted
that his debut would create a veritable
sensation. And it did.
A Celebrated Prodigy.
This child had been called “Young
America,” and there are many persons
living who will remember what a pub
lic idol he became. The feat with which
‘‘Young America” startled New York
was oalled the‘‘triple flying trapeze.”
Three swings were suspended from the
ceiling of the immense theater. Oue
was over the edge of the family circlo,
the next was about in the middle of the
house, and the third was well over to
ward a line drawn upward from the
proscenium arch. The child was taken
up into tho gallery, where the first
swing was hauled backward its entire
length by an attendant. “Young Amer
ica” grasped the bar and sailed off into
space. At exactly the point where the
trapeze would begin its backward trip
he let go and flew to the next, describ
ing a somersault on the way. The mo
mentum set the second swing in motion,
and ho reached the third in tho same
manner. As this one swung far over the
stage he let go, and running down to
ward the audience he bowed to the most
enthusiastic applause I have ever listen
ed to. There were no nets in those days,
and a platform was run from the dress
circle to the stage. On this were heavy
hair mattresses made expressly for this
purposo, but they might just as well
not have been there, for “Young Amer
ica” never had a fall or an accident of
any kind.
After a time, as he grew larger, he
ceased to create the former sensatlou.
But the Ravels stuck to their portion of
the contract and educated him finely.
Had he been at all shrewd, inasmuch
as ho had been formally adopted by
Gabriel Ravel, ho might have easily es
tablished his claim to a portion of his
large estate. But he made no effort to
do so, I believe. Ho is still alive aud
makes a living by working in burlesque
and pantomime productions. He has
beaten a drum iu front of a country cir
cus, this child who was so worshiped in
New York at one time that when he
went to tho gallery each night an officer
hud to bo sent along to protect him from
the proffered caresses of the scores of
society women who used to go up to
Mount Rascal for the sole purpose of
stealing a kiss from the little fellow.
One woman, who was worth millions,
came to me with a serious proposition
to pay me SSOO to engineer her adop
tion of the youngster.
It may seem strange to most persons
who never saw ‘‘Young America” that
a city should go wild over a child just
because he happened to perform a diffi
cult and dangerous feat particularly
well, and it would be extraordinary if
this were his sole recommendation. But
it was not. The little chap was a per
fect Adonis. Clad in his tight fitting
trunks, his silk fleshings and high kid
boots, with his merry and fearless eyes
and magnificent complexion aud wavy
hair showing off tho noble head to the
best advantage, he was the handsomest
picture my eyes have ever looked upon.
And it was his beauty, not his prowess,
which made women, especially childless
ones, adore him.
At the Old Niblo.
Although the Ravels, when they were
at Niblo’s, gave unremarkable entertain
ment, for all of which, by the way, only
60 cents was charged, the public in
those days wanted more, and they got
it. The performance was preceded
nightly by a farce, presented by a com
pany which in many respects was the
most remarkable ever put together for a
similar purpose. Among the best known
of the members were the famous Tom
Placide, L. R. Shewell, J. G. Burnett,
E. Lamb, W. Gomcrsal, the great Na
poleon; Mary Wells, Mrs. Gomersal,
Emma Taylor, sister of our Mary, aud.
mauy others.
Speaking of Tom Placide, he was a
queer character, but a thoroughly whole
souled fellow. While he was at’Nihlo’s
he used to keep bachelor’s hull, aud it
was his greatest pleasure to have a few
kindred spirits at his rooms to help him
prepare dinner. Among these favored
ones were “Handsome” George Jordan,
John E. Owens, the elder Mark Smith,
Fitz James O’Brien, Artcmus Ward,
Doesticks aud myself. The den, as Pla
cide always called it, was elegantly fur
uished, but be insisted on having a
board extending from ouo upturned
barrel to another for a table, upon which
to prepare the food. And Placide aud
his friends knew how to prepare it, you
may be sure. Bateman, the father of
the famous actress, Kate, once told the
proprietor of the aristocratic Langham
hotel in Loudon that he ought to visit
Tom Placido’s den for tho purpose of
learning how to serve a good dinner,
including gumbo- soup, for which Tom
was celebrated.
Everybody who takes the slightest in
-fcrcstMiv mafrtcxy xTmntvtid ~with "Tire'
THE J\\ _ BRUNSWICK, GA„ MARCH *tV <QOO
stage knows of the estrangements which
occurred between Tom Fiucide aud his
equally talented brother Harry from
time to time. Some' inns t hey did not
speak for years. One of these differ
ences, which had lusted longer than
usual, had been adjusted, and Harry in
vited Tom to visit him at his country
place at Babylon, N. Y. The invitation
was accepted.. Tom was an early riser,
and, going into the garden, he saw some
extraordinarily large cucumbers. Harry
had but a few of these, aud they were
intended for show oyiy. Tom, knowing
nothing of this, drew out his knife and
cut oue of the largest of the dew covered
prickly beauties. At that momeut Har
ry’s head appeured at the window, and
its owner shouted angrily: “How dare
you cut those cucumbers! Don’t you do
it again!”
Back popped the head into the room.
Tom took his carpetbag and left before
his brother got down to breakfast. Go
ing to Fulton market,-in this city, he
sought a dealer iu fancy vegetables.
There he found some cucumbers—a
barrel of them—every one of which was
much larger than the one he had cut at
Harry’s place. Taking one of the deal
er’s cards, he wrote on the back: “To
Harry Placide, Esq., Babylon, L. I.:
And be to you.” The dash looks
better in print than the word he really
wrote. Paying the merchant for the
barrel of cucumbers, he ordered them
sent at once by express, charges prepaid.
This was done, and that one cucumber
in Harry’s amateur garden caused an
other long estrangement between two
really brilliant brothers. Either would
have ridiculed in others the childish
conduct of which this shows them both
to have been guilty. But genius is said
always to have its acconipauyiug weak
ness, and this was theirs, I suppose.
LONDON MUSIC HALLS.
Where Peers and Vassals Are on a Com
mon Footing.
[Special Correspondence. ]
Lo'tDOS, iMarch B.—ln Louden every
one jioes to the music hall—old and
young, wealthy and poor. You may
take your family, you may take your
best girl, you may go with your men
friends You may go into thestulls, you
may go into the gallery, you may go
anywhere. It is as if you were in the
wide, open street. It matters not if you
are not eu regie as to dress. You are
here to eujoy yourself. Others are here
to enjoy themselves. In it all there is a
sense of fine, wide fellowship. True,
vice is here, but vice may hide itself in
a church.
Here is the flaneur, the young man
about town. He is here to enjoy him
self. The music hall is his stamping
ground, his hunting ground. He wears
very good clothes, indeed, does this
English swell. His forehead is low, his
jaws are full, his eyes aro prominent
and vacuous.
And here is the traveled man, with
the hard, keen eyes and strong face, and
here is the clever man, and here the
foolish man, and here the sharking busi
ness man, whoso method of getting
money is far more dishonest than the
method of a low, common thief, and—
But why particularize? Here are the
men aud women of the world—of the
vvide, strange world. Poverty, wealth,
power and revolt are gathered here.
They are drinking of the magic wine of
forgetfulness, that grand, strange wine.
Yet in the whole scene there is a sad
ness, a longing, a sense of fretfulness—
a something that eludes, a something
that may not be defined.
And still it is a scene of fine, strange
beauty—a scene that appeals to all the
senses. You are thrilled. You are in
touch with the world as it really is.
Aye, the world has taken off its mask
for you. You see its splendor even as
you see the splendor of the sun in mid
day. You see its softuess and its calm,
tender beauty. You see its misery, its
cruelty, its horror. You see what is
called its best aud worst. Aye, the mu
sic hall is the world in epitome!
Give me the music hall of London. I
care but little for the grand concerts
and the grand plays in the grand thea
ters. Their people are pose. They are
not themselves. They have come to be
edified, to be moved to higher things.
But people come to the music hall to
give expression to themselves.
Sometimes I hear people say that the
music hall ministers to a depraved taste.
I don’t see it. And, after all, what is a
depraved taste? Can the good people
who know so much about nothing tell
me? According to them, nearly every
thing that is frankly enjoyable is neces
sarily depraved. I’m afraid these good
people know less about more things.than
any other sort of people.
No; the music hall is, above every
thing, human. It has what aro called
the virtues and the vices of humanity.
It is good, it is bad, and I’d like to ask
the know all people to please remember
that good and bad are but words which
signify shifting, imaginary lines.
The music hall appeals to the senses.
It frankly says in effect that it knows
nothing of tlieosophie or psychic or any
other shadowy and debatable thing. It
has absolutely nothing to do with mor
als, whether good, bad or indifferent.
Its creed is that it is better to be inter
esting than to be good.
It may be that this creed is what is
called cynical. It may be that the mu
sic hall itself is what is called cynical.
Be that as it may, however, the music
hall is not hypocritical. There is no
living oue thing and preaching another.
The philosophy of the music hall may
be put thus: Live today, for tomorrow
you die. It is the philosophy of the pres
ent moment, and who shall say that it
is not a wise philosophy? Who knows
anything of tomorrow. And, as for yes
terday—well, yesterday is gone, is but
as the memory of a dream.
-—> — IC r. .rni'T”
A GOOD PROFESSION.
GOVERNMENT RECORDS SHOW A CALL
FOR FIRST CLASS STENOGRAPHERS.
They Can Get Work In tlo Departments
if They PosnesH the Requirements of
Speed and Accuracy—Reporters of Con
gress Who Arc Well Paid.
[Special Correspondence.]
Washington, March 10. —The list of
shorthand reporter congressmen has
been increased by one, in the person of
Samuel J. Barrows of Massachusetts.
There are all sorts and conditions of
men in congress. And among them are
several shorthand reporters. Mr. Chan
dler of New Hampshire is oue, and he
has found his knowledge of stenography
of great value in following debates and
committee hearings.
Mr. Barrows is an editor and publish
er, but of a religions journal, not a
newspaper. He has been for 16 years
the editor of The Christian Register,
published at Boston. Before he became
an editor he had a curious and varied
career. He is a native of New York
city. When he was 9 years old, he
worked for the big Hoe ..printing press
firm iu New York. That is where he
got the odor of printer’s ink in his nos
trils. He was an errand boy there and
telegraph operator, and almost all his
education was obtained at night school
while he was doing this work. Among
other things he learned shorthand, and
having done some work as a stenogra
pher he went to work for the New York
Sun as a reporter. Later he was stenog
rapher to Secretary Seward here iu
Washington and served as a clerk in
one of the bureaus of the state depart
ment.
Then he entered the Harvard divinity
school, acting as Boston correspondent
of the New York Tribune until he took
the degree of B. D. He went for The
Tribune on the Yellowstone expedition
under General Stanley in 1873 and the
Black Hills expedition of General Cus
ter in 1874, taking part in the battles
of Tongue River and the Big Horn. He
followed this experience with a year at
Leipsic university, studied political
economy under Roscber, became pastor
of the first parish, Dorchester, Mass.,
and finally was made editor of The
Christian Register. During his editorial
term he has spent one year studying
archteology in Greece and visiting Eu
ropean prisons. In 1895 he attended the
HON. SAMUEL J. BARROWS.
international prison congress at Paris
as secretary of the United States dele
gation, and President Cleveland last
year appointed him a representative of
the United States on the international
prison commission.
As if that was not variety enough
fcfrwmy man’s career, Mr. Barrows has
now come to congress, and there is no
telling where he will go next, for a man
of his versatility is just as likely to
land in the White House as anywhere
else.
A Valuable Acquisition.
All his varied experiences have been
of value to him, but Mr. Barrows thinks
one of the most valuable of them was
his study of shorthand. I would advise
any young man who is looking for a ca
reer to study shorthand and typewrit
ing. Personally I had a strong prejudice
against it when I entered on newspaper
work. I had the feeling that a stenogra
pher was little better than a machine;
that his intelligence was subordinated
to the mechanical work of making notes.
That is undoubtedly true in some de
gree of a reporter getting an interview.
The fewer notes he takes the bettor. He
seldom wants the exact language of the
man he is interviewing. In fact, the
late J. B. McCullagh, who is credited
with being the inventor of the inter
view, told me that no attempt should
be made to quote a man interviewed;
that all interviews should be written in
the third person. But for other pur
poses stenography is often a valuable
aid, and as a last resource, when a man
wants to find work, I know nothing so
sure of commanding employment as a
knowledge of shorthand.
If you look in the New York newspa
pers, you will see few advertisements of
stenographers in want of occupation.
The condition which exists there can be
found all over the country, the civil
service commissioners tell mo. While
the roll of applicants for government
places is filled to overflowing, there is
not a competent stenographer to be
found on the list today. On the other
hand, the market is crowded with in
competent ones. Maryland and Virginia
have exceeded far their quota of offices,
tod no one from either of those states
could get an ordinary clerkship. But a
stenographer from Maryland or Virginia
would be snapped up by one of the de
partments iu a minute.
In these days, when labor saving ma
chinery is driving so many men out of
employment and cheapening labor
through undue competition, it is refresh
ing to find one branch of work iu which
the demand is greater than the supply.
The reason the stenographer
bis' own against the talking machine so
well is that the stenographer is intelli
gent, and reporting, even letter writ
ing, cannot be doue in a mechanical
way. When the reporter of the senate
looks over his notes, he can dictate
them to a machine with the assurance
that they will come out in acceptable
form. But what do you think would be
the result of transcribing and putting
iu The Congressional Record exactly
what is said by each member of the
house and senate in public debate? It
would make The Record the most
amusing publication iu existence.
One of the official reporters read to
me from his notes tho other day the
language of a distinguished senator ut
tered in debate. You would have thought
it came from a man with very little ed
ucation. It was full of grammatical er
rors; double negatives abounded, and
though you could not have mistaken tho
man’s meaning if you had heard him
speak you would uot have been at all
suro of it if you had seen his language
aud not heard it.
The official reporter always edits his
notes as ho dictates them to the grapho
phone. He keeps the notes for reference
in case a question of his accuracy is
raised. The fact that his report is uot
verbatim is recognized when a member
of the house or senate demands that the
language of another member be “taken
down. ” This means that he proposes to
hold the speaker accountable for tho ex
act language he used aud uot for the
tempered report of it, which may get
into The Record the next day.
The official reporters of congress,
judged by a money standard, are as im
portant as the senators or representa
tives. The reporters of the house receive
$5,000 a year each, and they work only
when congress is in session. In tho sen
ate the work of reporting debates is
taken under contract. Dennis Murphy
had tho contract for many years. When
he died, a couple of years ago, it was
transferred to his chief assistants, Ed
ward V. Murphy and Theodore F.
Shuey. Mr. Shuey has been one of the
senate reporters since 1869. Edward
Murphy’s service antedates that time,
and Dennis Murphy first entered the
senate’s employ in 1848.
Hard Work, but Short Hours.
Out of the $25,000 a year which the
senate pays them, Shuey and Murphy
pay four assistants. These assistants do
other work as well. Oue of them, Harry
Gensler, was clerk to Senator Cameron
for many years at $6 a day, and he is
one of the brightest, quickest stenogra
phers in Washington. Murphy and
Shuey rank high as reporters of debates,
and they undoubtedly make as much as
the house reporters—ss,ooo each—out
of their contract with the senate. Their
pay, you must remember, is for work
which usually averages 12 months iu 24,
the short session of congress being
three months long and the long session
seldom more than nine mouths. Two
years ago, when the senate met in spe
cial session, an extra sum was appropri
ated to pay for the extra work of the
stenographers, though under their con
tract with the senate Murphy and Shuey
•could have been compelled to report the
extra session wii bout extra pay.
The $5,000 which the congressional
reporters receive is not the limit of their
earnings. That sum pays for their work
in reporting dobates. When they are
asked to report committee hearings,
they are paid according to the amount
of testimony taken. Not all this com
mittee work goes to the official stenog
raphers, but they have enough of it to
fill in much of their time, aud it is not
an uncommon thing for one of the re
porters to make SI,OOO during the ses
sion at this extra work.
These men are not overpaid. Remem
ber that the house reporters must bo not
only the finest stenographers in the
country, but intelligent, well read men;
that they must have sufficient knowl
edge of every question before congress—
from science to agriculture, from In
dians to tariff rates —to be able to fol
low all the intricacies
of a high pressure debate, and then take
into account the fact that the strain on
their nerves is so great that they are
likely to break down before they are
past middle age. The price is not too
high.
Some of the official reporters have be
come rich, partly through their savings
as stenographers aud partly through the
favorable investment of those earnings.
Mr. White has been in a number of
profitable enterprises, and he could re
tire from work if he chose. Andrew De
vine, another of the house reporters, has
made a good deal of money in the devel
opment of the graphophone and in other
investments and speculations. Dennis
Murphy left a nice little fortune. On
the other hand, Mr. McElhone, though
he received $6,000 a year for many
years before his death, left no property
to his family. Mr. McElhone had eight
or nine children, however, and in Wash
ington a large family is a luxury.
Pay For First Class Work.
I know one stenographer at the capi
tal who makes nearly SIO,OOO a year at
official work. But he is an expert in
certain lines, and stenography is the
least of his accomplishments. Many
committee clerks whose chief work is
stenographic receive $2,500 a year. A
knowledge of stenography is required ol
every first class committee clerk unless
the committee is so important that pri
vate secretaries of senators receive $6 a
day, some of them annually and some
only* when congress is in session. But
not all of these are stenographers. In
the White House the stenographer of the
president draws SI,BOO a year, and he
has confidential duties of a very impor
tant character, for he sees all the presi
dent’s state papers and knows the ad
ministration’s policy long before any
member of the cabinet. In the depart
ments stenographers receive as high as
SI,BOO a year.
George Grantham Bain.
Had Keen Attended To.
She—Of course, you all talked about
me as soon as I left.
Her—No, dear; we thought you had
attended to that sufficiently.—lndian
apolis Journal.
GAUZY DRESS GOODS.
Novelties Iu Materials For Hpriug and
Summer Wear.
[Special Correspondence. ]
New York, March 16. —From present
indications oue may be justified in say
ing that the coming summer will boa
gauzy one as far as dress materials aro
concerned. I never saw so many and
suoh different kinds of thin goods for
dresses. Silks are woven into grenadines
of every conceivable kind, wool and cot
ton are made into open meshed canvases,
and linen is employed to an extent never
before accorded iu dress goods. On tho
list of oponworked flax dress stuffs wo
find linen barege, exquisitely embroid
' H I#
SPRING COSTUMES.
ered and costing from $5 to $7 a yard.
Of courso it is very wide. Then there is
linen canvas, or etamine, with tinsel
all through the threads. This costs $2 a
yard and is uot as tasteful as some of
the plainer surfaces. There is also a tin
seled liuen batiste. Linen etamine, em
broidered and with lace stripes and in
sertions, is among the prettiest of these
goods. The style resembles that of last
summer, only that the mesh of the
linen is coarse and sievelike, as its name
indicates.
There are some novelties in silks.
There is a fancy taffeta, with satin
blocks over it, with several colors, like
blue, green and heliotrope, each having
a design of rosebuds on it in natural
colors. It has a wonderfully old fash
ioned look to me, though I cannot recall
where I ever saw any like it before.
There is a canvas taffeta, with gold and
white ground, over which aro scattered
black cornflowers. Blue and tan chame
leon shades have blue cornflowers. Corn
flowers and cornflower blue will havo
another lease of life, and I am glad.
They are too pretty to give up. This
silk is very expensive—up to $3.50 and
$4 per yard.
The French poplins aro offered in
hairline stripes of black and bright col
ors. The general effect is pleasing.
There are glace taffetas, with tiny bas
kets of flowers embroidered upon them.
Velours moire glace is offered iu garnet
shot with black, blue with olive, and
so on, all the suitable colors being util
ized as foils to each other. There is a
new idea in hatian taffeta. The body of
the silk is in a rather light solid color,
with irregular dots and dashes of satin,
generally black or very dark brown, all
over it, making it look like a repetition
of the Morse alphabet. There are num
bers of designs in silk lace grenadine,
where all imaginable colors are shot
with black, with white dots over it all.
In spite of all the riotous colors
shown in the stores, there are really
few gowns seen of them, though that
may befall us later. The really tasteful
woman chooses a plainer, quieter tint. I
saw one very pretty gown today, though
it is really but the revival of part of a
fashion in vogue ten years ago. This
gown was of twilled gray cashmere,
and this color, by tho way, is very fash
ionable this year. It was cut princess
shape and had the front draped across
surplice style and fastened at the left
hip. The sleeves and V vest front were
of the dotted taffeta, described above,
in gray, black and green. It was taste
ful and neat.
Another neat and tasteful gown for
outdoor wear mis of hairline poplin,
black and blue. Around the skirt were
six rows of mandarin blue velvet rib
bon. The belt and stock were of blue
velvet. Narrower velvet ribbon was
sewed on the waist and sleeves.
In one place there were two spring
costumes just done, both elegant and
NEAT SPRING GOWNS.
both showing t’ at tho high collar is as
popular as ever. One was of pearl gray
French broadcloth, the skirt lapped and ‘
stitched. The empire coat was tight in
the back aud loose in front. It ivas
tailor finished and ornamented With
military loops and braid. The other
was of cashmere, double, in light snuff
brown. The skirt was laid in deep
plaits, with dark brown insets of velvet.
The basque had a trimming of velvet
applique and narrow braid, with a gold
braid binding. Accordion plaited caps
of the cashmere finished the sleeves.
Olive Harper.
A Pinch of Salt.
A pinch of salt or other seasoning is
often a direction of a recipe. In French
cookery this is a distinct measure aud
means a teaspoonful, and not the bit
that may be held -'between tho fingers,
as the word is usually interpreted.
New York Post.