UE
Bellefonte, Pa., April 15, 1898.
WHEN MOTHER DIED.
‘We folded tenderly those quiet hands
When mother died,
And softly smoothed the silken, silvery bands
On either side,
And as so often she her vigils kept
We now sat watching while our mother slept
That eventide.
We rained caresses on that placid brow
When mother died
And kissed the lips that never until now
Our own denied.
We talked of patience and of all her care
And grew regretful as our own small share
Shrank down beside.
We idly moaned, “Were she but back again
Our hearth beside
How much unhappiness, how much of pain.
We'd scatter wide !”
“How lovingly I” Ah, me, that it is ever so!
How gleam our jewels as we watch them go
: Adown the tide!
Why speak we not to longing, listening ears
So close beside,
The love that brokenly, above their biers,
We all have eried ?
Why to so many must that ery of fate,
Come drifting earthward with its “Late, too late!
Thou art denied 7”
Go, clasp thy mother in thy strong young arms,
Dear boy, her pride !
Cast from thy life each folly that alarms
That truest guide !
Know that her prayers, her love, thy mother’s
faith in thee,
Thy glory is, aricher legacy
r That aught beside !
— Linnie Drake in Atlanta Journal.
MAJOR HASTINGS LETTER.
His Visit to Spain.—Madrid.—An Exciting Bull
Fight.—The People and the Money Question.
Special correspondence to the Warcumax.
At Madrid we ‘‘descended,”’ as the
French say, at Hotel de Paris, but finding
that hostelry excessively dear and not over
good, we sought a boarding house where
we could enjoy (?) table h’hote and pract-
ice our lengua Castellana on innocent, un-
suspecting fellow boarders to the manner
born. We found one, Calle de Gracia.
In no country of the world does one real-
ize so fully that good food is supplied by
the Deity and cooked by the devil, as in
Spain! Itis scandalous how much good
food is spoiled in the cooking !
The turkey whose physical condition has
been so much commented upon and whose
ownership has been attributed to Job, was
there baked, stewed, broiled, fried in olive
oil of suspected authenticity—butter is an
unknown quantity ; tomato omelettes gar-
nished with feathers ; boiled bacalao (cod-
fish) with whiskers on ; and a new dish,
rice half boiled (so that it would crunch
under your teeth like pop-corn), with
poached eggs of venerable antiquity.
Spain, from Barcelona to Gibraltar, is
one continuous smell of burnt. rancid oil.
We did not, fortunately, need to stay
long, or our fate would have been to be-
come as lean and lantern-jawed as the
Kuight of the Sorrowful Figure, Don Qui-
jote de la Mancha! And at table d’hote
they were so polite! To the servants:
““‘Hagame Usted el favor de pasarme el baca-
lao?’ (Kindly do me the favor to pass
me the cod-fish. )
But as compensation their wines were
excellent, and the first evening we treated
all hands to Val de Penas. A Spaniard
ordered in reciprocation brandy a blend
which would strangle an alligator. We
We thought it was an attempt to poison us
Cubaphobes.
When the ice is broken the Spaniards are
gay as children, naive and charming.
They served up the Cuban question hot-
ter than the takle d’hote.
The gist of their argument was: For the
last fifty years Spaniards have resisted tke
autonomy of Cuba. Now that we have
conceded autonomy (principally to concili-
ate the United States) we close all doors
looking to secession, to independent self-
governmert. We maintain that the An-
tilles are not colonies but provinces of
Spain like the rest of the Peninsula.
One example of England giving autono-
my to a colony is no precedent for Spain.
We want our colonies to be integral parts
of the mother country. We cannot and
will not give them up after having sacri-
ficed so many lives and spent so many mil-
lions.
And a war between United States and
Spain? Would there be any profit to the
United States? Even after the loss of
thousands of good men and mountains of
dollars, what use would it be to the Ameri-
cans. Of course they can take Cuba, but
only after it would be devastatedl—a smok-
ing mass of ruins, And Spain would con-
tinue to wage war and never make peace !
Would the Americans undertake to cap-
ture Madrid ? Would they repeat the folly
of Napoleon I?
But the United States are twelve days
from Spain, for transport ships, and even
if they did succeed in landing troops in
Spain, very few of her soldiers would ever
leave its soil. Spain has her alienable
rights, and she purposes to remain mistress
of her own house.
A nation as proud, as generous, as heroic
will never give up the struggle. Other
countries do not know us and we suffer
through the ignorance and prejudices
which have obtained abroad, where we are
judged only by our estudinantinas, our bull
fights, and our pretty manolas.
From the Cuban question to hull-fight-
ing is a big jump, but the tonrist student
cften has to make a bigger.
It has been said that the public taste for
bull-fighting is dying out in Spain. I be-
lieve the opposite to be the fact! Among
the first things I read in Madrid was an ar-
ticle about a project to bring an enormous-
ly large and powerful elephant from the
Zoological Garden at Amsterdam, to Mad-
rid, and pit him against a tiger, a lion, a
a white bear, and against five bulls.
The town was covered with flaming pos-
ters of the approaching corrida—six bulls
from the famous pasturages of the lineal
descendant of Columbus (our Chris.)
I know of no more magnificent spectacle
than a bull fight. As to its morality, or
its influence on a nation of amateurs at this
sport—that for the moment I will not dis-
cass.
Those who believe that the sport is dy-
ing out should see such crowds as Renny-
son and I beheld streaming from la Puerta
del Sol, filling the wide avenue, Calle Alcala
and finding place in the circus with its
room for twelve thousand spectators.
Everybody who can hire a wagon or a mule
drives or rides at the greatest speed of
which his animal is capable, in clouds of
dust amid a hubbub of yelling.
The driver is seated on the shafts, his
legs dangling among the mules’, which he
can conveniently whip ; and in the carry-
all are as many boys and girls as can be
seated, or hang on by their eyelids, chat- then he runs round the corridor head up,
tering like magpies. It’s a country circus
and a Fourth of July multiplied by a
thousand.
The mules and donkeys are decorated
with all sorts of ribbons, fringes, tassels
and streamers.
The day of the corrida is a holiday for
everybody.
A peasant and his wife astride on mule-
back—he carrying his gun slung
on the shoulder—are coming in from
the country ; others are on tiny little don-
keys, the rider’s feet almost scraping the
ground, like the pictures one sees in the il-
lustrated Bibles of locomotion in Palestine;
long wagous like hayricks, to which are
harnessed six gaily and festively decorated
mules ; there are hundreds of fine brongh-
ams and carriages, and such is the crush
for seats that to be sure of them, we took
our tickets in advance.
Every ticket is numbered and every seat
is “‘reserved’’; there are six great doors,
and the people take their places without
confusion. When we arrived the arena
was full of people who had been looking at
the bulls in the toril. A detachment of
soldiers enters the arena and executing a
half-pivot swing sweeps the crowd out.
The bulls are suggestively bellowing :
acquaintances are calling to each other
across the arena, which is large enough for
a regiment of cavalry to manceuvre in ; la-
dies are plying their fans, making a rust-
ling, sibilant sound like ten thousand but-
terflies ; students in groups are shouting
their college songs.
One of their number asks a dignified old
gentleman, just arriving, what time it is?
He gives the hour, and they shout in cho-
rus ‘Gracias,’ nearly startling the old fel-
low out of his wits, and everybody laughs
—except the old gentleman.
A brass band discourses excellent music ;
hawkers throw oranges to purchasers in
every direction and deftly catch in their
hats the cuartos thrown in payment. An
orange goes astray, knocks off a man’s silk
hat ; there is a grand general laugh, but
the hatless one is furious.
The audience commences to pound with
their canes; the students sing ‘‘Time’s
u 2 :
The alcade (mayor) who presides takes
his chair in the box of the Ayuntamiento
(City Councils) beside the Royal Box; a
lady faints and instantly the twelve thou-
sand people are on their feet, standing on
the benches. A fellow with a speaking
trumpet which makes a noise like a clap of
thunder calls to a friend on the opposite
side. Excitement runs high, the minute
approaches, the noise is immense—a sullen
roar—twelve thousand voices mingled.
The music ceases: at a trumpet sound,
four mounted armed guards enter the are-
na and slowly ride round it inspecting if
all is right, every barrier closed, the
ground in perfect condition.
Twelve thousand spectators look at the
alcade’s box—the silence is absolute.
The band strikes up ; the gate under the
Royal Box opens and the caudrilla, all the
toreros in gala costumes enter in procession.
They are greeted by an immense explo-
sion of applause, First came the primas
spadas (swordsmen) dressed like Figaro,
in the ‘‘Barber of Seville,” followed by
banderilleros, capeadores, picadores and
chulos. It would much exceed my limits
to describe their costumes ; every color and
material, satin, silk, velvet, laces, fringes,
ribbons, all increasing the harmonious ef-
fect.
I can imagine nothing more olympian
than their march around the arena. It
was a blend of a military review, a band of
masqueraders and cow-boys. They march
with military precision, stop before the
mayor's box and salute. The alcade
throws down the key to the bull-stalls
(toril) and all go out of the ring. except
the picadores mounted and armed with
long lances, and some capeadores, with
their red and yellow capes. All eyes are
fixed on the gate where the bull will enter
—the silence is death-like—the bulls bel-
low, the blindfolded horses tremble : the
picadores show some anxiety and settle
themselves more firmly in their saddles
and poise their lances ; the trumpet sounds
the gate opens, an enormous bull, head
and tail erect, rushes into the arena, and
twelve thousand throats simply yell.
My friend Rennyson, who had never
seen a bull-fight, turned pale. I confess
shivers chased each other up and down my
back. The bull rushed like an ava-
lanche at the first picador, who stuck his
lance in its neck but did not stop it;
the bull struck the horse amidships, lifted
him and the picador hedily from the
ground ; tossed them lightly from his horns
against the barrier, then rushed at the sec-
ond horse and the third with almost identi-
cal results. The three horses were killed
in less than a minute. Then the bull ran
out to the middle of the arena, horns and
nose covered with blood, snorting, pawing
and looking at the people as if tosay ‘‘Any-
thing more I can do for you ?”’
Everybody howled like a band of de-
mons.
The chulos (servants) ran and helped up
the wounded picadores, took the saddles
and bridles off the dead horses ; and to save
the picadores who are struggling to free
themselves from the poor animals, the ca-
peadores run round the bull flaunting their
red flags in his face, provoking and taunt-
ing ; he runs after them in a whirlwind of
dust, butts his head, in his fury, against
the barrier ; paws. bellows, again attacks
the dead or dying horses, tries to fly over
the barrier, and runs about, frothing mad
round the ring.
In the meantime other mounted picadores
have posted themselves at intervals, and
when the bull perceives them he rushes at
them frothing with fury.
The picador jabs his lance into his shoul-
der and succeeds in holding him at bay.
The bull leaves him and attacks the next
horseman.
Thunders of applause reward the pica-
dor’s successful resistance. The poor dis-
embowelled horses were disgusting to see.
At a trumpet call all the picadores gallop
out of the ring and chulos cover pools of
blood with sand.
Now comes the poetry of bull-fighting, if
I may be allowed so to explain myself. I
mean the banderilleros. Their duty is to
stick an arrow about eighteen inches long
and ribbon-decorated, having a barbed
point, in each side of the bull’s neck. To
do this trick gracefully he posts himself
about twenty paces in front of the foro and
then by gesticulating with his arms, pro-
vokes the animal, who rushes at him ; the
banderillero with lightning swiftness fastens
an arrow in each side of his neck, and
springs aside out of danger with the nim-
bleness of a panther.
Should his foouv slip, or he miscalculate
the distance or hesitate, he would be speared
like a fish. The bull bellows with pain,
snorts and jumps, pursuing his tormentors
who, running for their lives, clear the bar-
rier and are safe. Another man with bdan-
derillas enters the ring, plants two more
arrows, and after him a third man does the
same ; the bull pursuing jumps the barrier
after his tormenters, and bellowing, scream-
ing horribly is in the corridor pounded
with canes by the front seat spectators ;
looking at the crowd defiantly aud is at
last chased again into the arena.
All the spectators stand up and wildly
gesticulating yell like madmen. The ban-
derilleros and capeadores renew the attack ;
one twists his tail, another blinds him by
throwing his capa over his horns, a third
using his lance as a spring pole jumps over
the bull’s back, then throws his lance at
the animals feet, in which it becomes en-
tangled, and the bull snaps it like a pipe
stem as he runs. All this was done with
the grace of a dancing master, with the
rapidity of a sleight-of-hand performer,
while the people enjoyed, laughed and ap-
plauded. The foro now at white heat of
exasperation is considered ‘‘ripe for slaugh-
ter.”?
Now comes the solemn part of this bar-
barous spectacle.
The trumpet sounds and the prima spada
(swordsman) enters the arena, having in
the one hand the spada, in the other a red
flag attached to a stick, presents himself
before the mayor’s box, takes off his cap
and makes the Alcade a speech in which he
assures him of his homage and determina-
tion to kill the bull or die in the attempt.
Tossing his cap in the air he advances
resolutely towards the bull. Now is the
struggle! a young man of perhaps twenty
five, dressed like a dancing master, silk
stockings and slippers, alone, with no de-
fence but a small, thin sword, against the
terrible brute with horns sharp as poign-
ards, exasperated with pain, blinded by
wrath, looking hideous, frightfully bloody.
But the eyes of the vast, breathless, excit-
ed multitude are on him and six thousand
pretty hands of the senoritas will applaud
him.
The bull, head down, swift as an arrow,
plunges at him, the spada jumps -aside
straight up in the air heels together, and is
rewarded by thunderous applause. The
audacious forero advances again, taunts the
bull with his muleta (red flag) which he
flaps around his head and between his
horns, lets it fall and picks it up while the
monster is charging on him, attacks the
‘quadruped ten times and each instance es-
capes certain death by a quick jump aside.
The supreme moment has arrived, the
audience yells, Que lo mate! Que lo mate!
(Kill him!)
The espada stops, assumes a tragic pose.
shakes his flag, holds his sword horizon-
tally ; a stillness of death reigns, the peo-
ple appear as so many stones ; the bull
rushes ; we see the silver flash of a sword,
the poor thing staggers, falls on his knees,
belching blood, and from every throat
comes an infernal, unearthly yell, followed
by deafening plandits and cries of Bueno !
Viva! The tumult is indescribable ; all
are standing up gesticulating wildly, cries
are universal, it is momentary insanity ;
finer. He kept his word better than kings
usually do. The Escurial is built in the
form of a grid-iron, on which legend says,
the good saint was martyred. I have been
in the tunnel cut in the glacier at Grindel-
wald and it is cosy and warm there com-
pared with the sepulchral, hyperborean,
pleurisy and catarrh-laden air of the Pan-
theon in the Escurial. The kings of Spain
are buried there—that is to say, those who
left heirs. Alfonzo XII is now buried
there ; his son the present king having
been born five months after his death, se-
pulture there was originally refused.
The kings lie buried under such masses
of granite that I wonder if they may not
have trouble at the resurrection. The
guide shows you the room where Philip IT
lived as a monk fourteen years, and the
three-legged stool on which he sat, the aus-
tere man.
They say the Escurial has eleven hun-
dred and ten windows, and I prefer to ac-
cept the statement to testing its accuracy.
I was glad to get away without being com-
pelled to go to bed with pleurisy or pneu-
monia.
I saw Sagasta several times, driving in
an open carriage. Like Castelar and the
late Canovas del Castillo, he has figured in
politics from the early ‘‘fifties,’’ and has
Held nearly every position under the na-
tional government. He has been a con-
spirator, a revolutionist, a pronunciamien-
tist ; has been exiled and condemned to
death as a conspirator, was a refugee in
1856, and again in 1866, in France and
England.
By profession he is an engineer. He
commenced his political career as a General
of Militia. He is an impassioned orator
and unequalled debater. Now over sev-
enty years old, he is reputed to be the
hardest-worked man in Spain ; to have a
hand of iron in a velvet glove and like
President Cleveland did, works all day at
his desk, disposed to do everything him-
self.
His cast of countenance and straggling
beard give him a peculiarly Hebraic ap-
pearance.
I had several conversations, at leisure,
with a German banker, who has lived thir-
ty years in Madrid, and has a perfect
knowledge of Spanish finances and politics.
He said the number of Republicans ard
Liberals in favor of the autonomy of Cuba
is growing every day, but many were ap-
prehensive of automomy, regarding it as
dangerous, because a means of disintegra-
tion and preparation to secession from
Spain which has held sway over Cuba
since October, 1492.
The Spaniards, naturally nervous and
impatient, are excited and discouraged in
the highest degree at the prolongation of
the war, which they never cease to execrate |
and regret.
4.
(octroi) brought into cities and towns.
In addition to these the sale has been de-
creed by the Ceries of various national
properties and the timber of public lands.
One of the governmental incomes is the
amount paid in each case for substitutes by
the conscripted. This money is paid to the
government, and varies from 1,500 to 2,000
pesetas, equalling 300 to 400 dollars for
each substisute provided. Sixty thousand
substitutes have been bought, bringing in-
to the Treasury more than 110,000,000.
All this information I could not have
procured from Spaniards. They are too
patriotic to thus expose the skeleton in the
national cupboard.
I sincerely pity the Spaniards, who are
really excellent, sympathetic people. If
they afe now financially as a nation practi-
cally at the end of the tether, their ingen-
iousness in trying to conceal the true situa-
tion, and their generous, valorous, Don
Quixotic character, compels your admira-
tion.
MAJOR W. H. HASTINGS.
Horror on the Dyea Trail,
Avalanche Cost Perhaps 100 Lives.—Twenty-one
Bodies Found.—Many Clung to a Rope and Were
Saved and 25 Were Dug Out Alive from the Snow
and Ice that Overwhelmed Them.—10,000 Outfits
Buried.
The horror on the Dyea trail is growing
in magnitude hourly. As the work of
rescue proceeds it becomes more apparent
that many more lives were lost than at
first thought possible.
It is now believed that between 50 and
100 men and women were killed by the
avalanche. Many bodies will never be
recovered until the sun melts the tons of
snow and ice that now bury them from
sight.
Two or three thousand men are work-
ing in relays of as many as can stand side
by side, shovelling away the debris in
search of the dead and dying. Twenty-
two dead bodies have heen recovered and
identified, and twenty-five have heen taken
out alive.
RAILWAY GANG MISSING.
Seventeen employees of the Chilkoot
Railway & Tram Company, who went up
to the summit on the morning of the slide
to work, are missing and it is feared that
they are among the lost.
It estimated that 10,000 tons of outfits
are buried under the snow and ice. There
were several smaller slides before the
death-dealing avalanche was started.
About 2 o’clock in the morning, a small
slide occurred which buried several cabins.
The alarm spread and many people were
endeavoring to work back to Sheep Camp,
when the main slide occurred. The snow-
storm was blinding and crowds were com-
the ladies wave their handkerchiefs, clap
their hands; the band strikes up ; the
scene is past painting. The spade is again
a hero !
The spectators throw him cigars, hats,
canes, purses, opera-glasses, anything they
have in their hands. Preparations for the
next slaughter are begun ; nothing stops
the ‘‘sport,’’ not even the death of a torero.
In this corrida we saw six bulls and
twenty-one horses killed in the space of |
two hours and a half.
Rennyson was amused, frightened, dis-
gusted. Near us were children with their
mothers who laughed, applauded, and
screamed with delight. Such sights would
fill an American lady with supreme dis-
gust, but drew the plaudits from the grand
Spanish ladies who graced the occasion.
‘Who can analyze the matter psycholog-
ically? You are horrified beyond meas-
ure with the atrocious brutality of killing
the horses ; you are astonished and delight-
ed with the beauty of the display, and the
wondrous agility, the charming fearlessness
of the performers ; you feel as if you would
faint when seeing the blood of the disem-
boweled horses ; you yell and applaud the
marvellous courage, the matchless dex-
terity of the spada, who faces and domi-
nates an enraged animal who kills a lion, a
leopard, or a white bear.
Like poets foreros must be born not made
if you will pardon such dusty platitude.
The primas spadas are the nerves of the na-
tion. They are better paid than their Sec-
retary of the Treasury, more popular with
the people than their Premier, or their
greatest orator ; they are idolized by the
ladies, bowed to by the society leaders ;
frequent the most select circles, are re-
ceived at Court ; they have their carriage
and splendid horses ; their photographs, |
oil paintings and statues are displayed
everywhere in the shops, placed on fans,
figure on handkerchiefs. They are the
true heroes of Spain. i
Explain it for me if you can, for to my |
mind the enigma is complete.
I asked my friend Rennyson what he |
thought about it ; ‘‘Don’t let’s talk about
it, for I am disgusted, wearied out and
feeling as if I wanted to sleep for about !
two weeks.” Such was the expression of |
feeling on his part.
We made an excursion to the Escurial,
that eighth wonder, after the pyramids the
greatest pile of marble in the world, out to
near the Guadarrama mountains, through
the arid. desolate country, destitute of tree
house or water, which surrounds Madrid.
It isa Leviathan of architecture which '
has exhausted descriptions in untold books
and is supposed to contain invaluable, un-
explored treasures in Arabic manuseripts.
As everybody knows, it was built by Phil-
ip IT who at the siege of St. Quentin,
obliged to destroy a church called St. Law-
rence, vowed to build one muei: larger and
As to the negotiations for a commercial
treaty, it is my solid opinion that Spain is
playing with the United States. They
want to finish the war first, and then ac-
cord, in a commercial treaty, just what
! they please, resisting the claims of the
United States, which, frankly, are exorbi-
tant, and, if accorded, would make the isl-
and more American than Spanish.
The finances of Spain are in a deplorable
condition. All recent negotiations abroad,
especially in London and Paris, have
failed, and also the effort to secure a loan
from Rothschild, on the mercury mines o°
Almaden, came to nought. Spain has
mortgaged everything.
Their bonds known as ‘‘Enterior,”’ are
quoted at 50 to 60, although bearing the
interest at 4 per cent should be, at least,
120. .
The only hope of Spain being able to pro-
cure more money to pay the arrears due to
the troops and prosecute the war in Cuba
and the Phillipines, is by means of a
popular loan, as was done in November,
1896, when 600 millions of pesetas were
subscribed on a loan intended to secure
400 millions, floated at 93 with interest at
6.56 per cent. There are a great many
people in Spain possessing enormous fort-
unes in bonds and mines, and most of this
wealth has been inherited, or made in Cu-
ba or South America.
The Spaniards are a’ proud, chivalric,
brave, patriotic race, with much baughti-
ness. A popular loan might again be float-
ed if the patriotic blood of the nation were
warmed by a crisis in politics or the con-
duct of the war.
An evidence of their patriotism is the
success of the Jmparcial newspaper, which
opened a subscription for the relief of the
wounded and sick soldiers in Cuba, which
now amounts to more than one million and
"a half pesetas (300,000 dollars).
In 1876 Spain’s credit was so bad that it
paid 7.32 per cent, interest on foreign loans
guaranteed by receipts from customs and
the faith of the nation.
Now Spain has borrowed money on, and
hypothecated as the guarantee, the prospec-
tive revenues to be derived from customs
at home, in Cuba and the Phillipines ;
revenues from tobacco monopoly ; the tax
on the sale of gunpowder, dynamite and
other explosives ; and the momoply of the
importation, exportation, refining and sale
of petroleum.
Spain has placed a war tax which varies
from 10 to 20 per cent on the following :—
Street railways, carriages and vehicles of
all kinds ; railroad and steamboat tickets ;
merchandise in inland transit ; and ten
per cent additional tax on all assessed tax-
es, excepting government bonds and public
debt. A new tax has been imposed on the
exportation of lead and other minerals, ad-
vances on prospective sales of revenue
stamps, and additional tax on provisions
ing down by the aid of a rope when over-
taken.
The exact location of the slide is given at
two and half miles above Sheep Camp
and 100 yards above the Oregon Improve-
ment Company’s power house. Here an
immense gorge rises at a very steep incline
into the hills, and it was down this the
avalanche came. The telephone office here
has been thronged all day and night with
people anxious to get some word of friends
believed to have been in the disaster.
Many people have gone from this city
and Dyea to Sheep Camp to aid in the
work of rescue. It is believed that when
the full returns are in the dead will num-
ber nearer one hundred and fifty.
The slide covered the trail for several
hundred yards, at a depth of fifty feet in
many places. It has effectually stopped
travel for the present and it will be some
time before it can be resumed.
A STORY OF A SURVIVOR.
J. A. Raines, of Maine, who was fortu-
nate enough to be dug out alive, says :
*‘All of a sudden I heard a loud report
and instantly felt myself going swiftly
down the hill. Looking around I saw
many others had been caught. some with
their feet out and heads buried out of
sight. When I struck the bottom I tried
to run, but the snow caught me and I was
instantly buried beneath thirty feet of
snow and rock. I was on the verge of
death by suffocation when I was reached
by the rescuers.
I think the slide occurred about il a. m.
I am thankful to be alive to-day. Among
my partners were S.T. Burge, Emporia,
Kas. ; A. S. Smith, Kansas City ; F. G.
Brease, Emporia, Kansas.,, and J. A.
Morgan, who went down in the slide. The
rest escaped uninjured.
‘‘Many, I presume, were saved by taking
hold of a rope for hauling freight up to the
summit. Ay this means forty or fifty were
pulled out, battered and bruised more or
less, but glad to be alive at any discount.
I never want to nor expect to experience
such an awful half hour again as long as I
live.’
© Ulysses IIL.
Grandson of the Great Soldier to Become a Cadet
In 1885 General Grant addressed a letter
to the President of the United States ask-
ing that his grandson, Ulysses, be appoint-
ed a cadet at West Point. Young Ulysses
is now a strapping lad, with military aspi-
rations, and last week his father, Colonel
Frederick D. Grant, presented the letter
to President McKinley. Ulysses lives in
New York city. To a New York Herald
reporter he said that he did not expect to
go to West Point until he was 17. He is
now 16, and will put in the intervening
time in hard study in the scientific school
of Columbia University.
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
Miss Sophronisba Breckinridge, who has
just been made a fellow in the department
of physical science of the University of
Chicago, is the eldest daughter of Colonel
W. C. P. Breckinridge.
Japanese screens were never so popular.
The black ones embroidered in gold are
most appropriate for the dining room or
library, while for the parlor very hand-
some ones of white satin embroidered in
colored silk are shown. The frame is a
simple black band and the mount of Japa-
nese black and gold brocade. Simpler ones
with frames made of a thin band of plain
wood hinged ready for use, come at very
reasonable prices. These can be enameled
or stained at home and then mounted with
panels of Roman satin, burlap, denim or
embroidered linen.
Very many guimpes and shirt .waist
fronts to wear under slashed bodices, low-
necked blouses, are made with inch-wide or
even wider tucks across the yoke or gnimpe
portion, a fashion decidedly favorable to
slender figures, but by no means becoming
to those who require nothing to accentuate
width. Horizontal trimmings are the
most popular, but it is better suited to tall,
slender women than to those whose inches
from under the arm to the waist are few,
and whose breath is considerable.
The up-to-date shirtwaist is made up
with four little pleats arranged each side of
a box pleated centre. The skirt fastened
on an invisible flap underneath the box
pleat. If the waist is of silk the box pleat
is pierced at intervals to display pretty
buttons. The wash waist of gingham is
really more stylish without the studs, so
in that case the box pleat is innocent of
button holes.
If there is a distinguishing feature of the
new spring dress, it is the yoke. This is
made of buight silk contrasting with the
dress. It is but rounding back and front
and is part of the gown. The collar
matches the yoke and the appearance is
that of a silk waist worn underneath the
gown.
The first essential in the care of the
hands is scrupulous cleanliness. You can
never have soft white hands unless you
keep them free from dust and grease. For
this you need a pure emollient soap, a good
nail brush, plenty of warm water and pos-
sibly a cream and paste also. The hands
should, as a rule, be washed at least three
times a day ; sometimes it is necessary to
wash them oftener than this. A small
piece of pumice stone should he kept on
the wash stand to remove discolorations,
such as ink spots, gardening stains etc.
Use a generous supply of soap. Keep two
brushes for the hands one (a soft one) for
scrubbing the skin, the other for cleaning
the nails.
After thoroughly rubbing the hands
with the soft brush and plenty of soap and
cleaning the nails, rinse in clear water to
which a teaspoonful of lemon juice and an
equal quantity of prepared toilet oatmeal
have been added. Then dry with a soft
towel and dust over with oatmeal powder.
This method of washing will keep the
hands soft and white during the most se-
vere weather.
Hands which are natually coarse and
red or have become so through inattention
require further treatment. A thoroughly
good emollient cream should be well rub-
bed into them night and morning, and it
may sometimes be necessary to wear lose
kid gloves, with the palms cut out (in or-
der to give plenty of ventilation) during
the night.
The hands should be manicured at least
twice a week. If you have not time or
cannot afford to visit a good manicure, in-
vest in a set of manicure articles and a few
good instruments and learn to do your
hands yourself. After washing the hands,
first gently press back the cuticle around
the nails. Instead of the destructive nail
cleaners use an orange wood stick, sharpen-
ed toa flat point. The enamel of the nails
is so delicate that the steel instruments
cannot fail to roughen and scrape the un-
der surface. The dust is at once attracted
by this roughness, and the nail is much
more difficult to keep clean than when an
orange wood stick is used.
Cut the nails in a slightly pointed curve,
following the line of the tip of the finger.
If you keep the cuticle round the nail
pressed down persistently, it will need no
especial treatment. Never cut it unless
absolutely necessary, and then use very
delicately pointed, curved cuticle scissors.
If there is any irritation of the cuticle
skin, apply a little good toilet cream. To
polish the nails use a little nail powder
and polish with a chamois skin polisher.
In trimming spring hats and bonnets
handsome imported violets are used, minus
the leaves, which are seldom pretty or
natural looking, even on expensive clusters.
Another very fashionable mode of decora-
tion is to encircle the crown of turban or
toque with a thick wreath of flowers ; nas-
turtiums in all their red glowing shades
being favorite blossoms. This wreath .is
then veiled with tulle or other gauzy ma-
terial, of white black or golden brown ; re-
peating one of the colors of the flowers in
the wreath.
—
The young mother rarely knows exactly
the best thing to do when she awakes to
find her infant struggling with its first at-
tack of croup. Until the physician comes
the easiest thing to do is to wring a small
sponge or cloth out of hot water and put it
directly over the Adam’s apple. The feet
can be put in hot mustard water, and if
the child can be made to swallow hot water,
the revulsion of vomiting will soon put a
stop to the spasm of the vocal cords.
If a stove is near at hand a pan or shal-
low dish can be placed on it and a little
turpentine added. Such treatment will
often greatly alleviate the severe spasms.
The dress of the period is arranged by a
skillful dressmaker so as to make a girl
short-waisted at the back and long-waisted
in front. To this end the skirt is often
made to fasten over the waist in the back,
while the long blouse front is drawn down
in front to extend the line. Satin belts of
bias bands folded are drawn low down to
a point in front, so as to preserve the con-
tour of the old-fashioned ‘‘stomacher’’
noted in old paintings, which are portraits
of ladies.
The sailor blouse is a favored model for
waists. The back width is laid in fine
tucks in groups of five inches apart, run-
across the body. The front widths have
tucks to match.