Pittsburg dispatch. (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, May 19, 1889, THIRD PART, Page 17, Image 17

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i- ,
t Famous French Hostelries. and tho
$ Epicurean Dreams They Evolve.
A hcre to Go to Get a First-Class Dinner
With Bare Old Wines.
rcoBBiEPOSiMarcx or thx diepatch.1
PBIS, May 3. Did
you ever hear the anecdote
about Sam Rogers, whose
reputation as a giver of
dinners and breakfasts will
lire as long as his poetry?
"Will you come and break
fast with me to-morrow
morning?" he asked a
London lady one night at
tie opera, and she prompt
ly replied: "Won't I!"
which pleased him more
than anything else that
could have occurred.
There is a good deal in
dinner and dejeuner giv
ing, and I have had the great happiness in
my time to be host as well as guest at some
tolerably famous feeds here in Paris. There
was one breakfast, I remember, to which 1
was invited at the Cafe Voisin, along with
some 12 or 14 other fellows, and we sat down
punctually at 11 o'clock. We all smiled
when we saw before each plate no fewer
than two dozen oysters, accompanied by a
golden lemon, and a bottle of fine Sauterae.
The oysters were followed by kidneys a la
Old French Country Inn.
brochette, then came in some pate de foie
gras deliriously truffled, and as a windup to
this lovely feast mine host, a French author,
made us on the table, then and there, a
hot sauce for a wild duck that was one of
"cious thines I ever tasted,
, was not a better meal than
a few of us enjoyed about a
er a theater performance, and
ten by Howell Osbora.
1 been to the Varieties to see
rag about midnight dropped
in the Avenue de l'Opera
a repast such as makes my
en I think of it. We had
soupers de la cour, and this
;ourtly soup was chiccen
ips ot rarest Sevres. Then
;au au petit pois, and to
succeeded a roast chicken
on andas tender and beau-
jile of a new born babe.
JKxiih owe..jrril-,spatanf d
. . cy winch time we were ready for the
i asperses sauce hollandaise, and then came
lucious strawberries,coffee and liqueurs. In
the meantime there were white, red and
golden wines served us; ior the Sauternei
were blanche, the Boideaux rouge and the
champagnes the color of virgin gold.
There are some fine restaurants here in
Paris, ten or a dozen, not more, of first-class
ones, and hundreds in the second and third
class. The first eating place ever
known in tbis city was established
by a man named now don't jump
Boulanger. That was about 150 years
nco, and the iellow was a wit as well as a
cood maitre d 'hotel,- for he took out of his
Bible these words, "Veni ad me, omnes, qui
stomacho laboratis, et ego vos restarabp,"
and stuck them up over his lront door.
Struck by the word "restarabo," the inhab
itants of that part oi Paris gave Bo dan
ger's place the name of "restaurant," and it
soon became th trade mark ot all who were
in the same business.
Of course eating houses are much better
now than they were then. I should be dis
loyal to some of the chefs I know if I said
otherwise; and yet there were "Vatels in
those other days, also noblemen and princes
of the blood who deigned to learn how to
cook, and some of them created new dishes.
Was there ever such another place for res
taurants as the Palais Boyal used to be?
Why, they were all over it; on the ground
floors, on the first and second stories, even
down in the cellars, and the Caveau, an
underground place, was quite a resort when
the opera was over, just as the Cafe Procope
was forthose who went to the Comedie Fran
caise, which was then in the Faubourg St
It was in the Pal (lis Boyal that the Trois
Freres Provincaux was established, and
there Barras and Bonaparte often dined to
gether. Nearly 100 years Water a branch of
the Trois Preres Provincaux was opened at
the Philadelphia Exposition, and only two
days ago a friend of mine from San Fran
cisco complained to me of the stiff price he
had to pay ior a lunch which himself and
wife eat in it. Another restaurant started
about the same time in the Palais Boyal
was the Cafe Chartres, now called the Grand
Vefour, and where Grimrod de la Beyniere
was a regular client. He was the author ot
the "Almanack des Gourmands," and his
grandfather died from eating pate de Joie
gras. It was Grimrod's father who built
the house at the corner of the Place de la
Concorde and the Avenue Gabriel that is
now occupied by the Epatants Club, as the
consolidated Mirlitons and Imperials' are
He not only built the house, but he con
structed in front of it, deep down in the
earth, a refuge from thunder storm that
was topped and surrounded with roof and
walls six or eight feet thick. This enor
mous vault is still in existence, and on its
top earth has been laid and grass is growing.
It serves as a splendid terrace for the club
members. "When Grimrod's father was
quite sure the weather would be fine he
used to wander back and forward on one of
the old bridges, with now and then an oc
casional peep down into the flowing Seine.
, As for the Grand Velour, it is a richly
gilded restaurant, with a tolerably good
kitchen, and where you can get sole a la
sauce Mr. Mornay to perfection. It, how
ever, cannot be classed as among the best in
Paris. Of course, it is rather difficult to
show which Is the very best, but I think if
you asked the proprietor of any of the first
class ' places which after his own
fs the 'best he would name you
the Maison Doree. What makes
it complete is its all round excellence; that
is to say, its wine cellars are well stocked
with the best cms, its chef and head assist
ants are skilled in their calling, and
the service can seldom be complained o
I admit that the Cafe Voisin has a much
more famous cellar, and there is no denying
the fact that no other restaurant in the
world can show such a wine list as that old
and splendid house at the corner of the Bue
St. Honore and the Bue Cambon. But
sometimes the cuisine is first-class and
, sometimes it is not; and there seems to be a
II Bill LI
disposition at the Voisin to neglect new
comers'and to impose upon old customers.
When a head waiter or one of his garcons
serves you in a negligent manner, forgets
your order, or brings you something that
you never called for, then things are not
going along in first-class style, and that Is
precisely what happened to me the last time
I dined "at the Cafe Voisin. But there are
in the cellars of that house red wines from
the Bordeaux country which w?re bottled as
far back as 1811, and the price lor each bot
tle is just f 20. fc
vandebbilt's joskpe.
Bonvivants have high opinion of Big
non's old place opposite the Vaudeville
Theater, now known as Paillard's. It is a
small place, richly gilded and decorated
inside, but cheap looking as to Us exterior,
and it stands at the Tery top, both on ac
count of its cuisine and its wine cellars.
This is the place where Joseph was head
waiter when Vanderbilt ran across him.
Joseph was not the cook of the establish
ment; of course, he is a cook, for all good
maitres d hotel in Paris restaurants are
chefs by profession, but they are never the
chef ot" the establishment. Joseph was not
only head waiter, but he prepared a good
many of the sauces that his clients
liked, and there never was another
person who could look after a roast
wild duck better on a chauffing dish,
or serve youupapoulet gras with a salad
of bis own seasoning so well as he. We
used to get the best attendance aad the best
dishes out of the fellow by givin him carte
blanche for the breakfast or the dinner but
the bill used to make us wicce when we
paid it Apropos, Mr. Vanderbilt does not
pay Joseph $8,000 a year, nor even half that
sum. There is not a Vf in America, nor
in any other country, wno gets more than
2,500, and very few receive that much.
Further up in the Boulevard des Italiens,
on the same side of the way, is the Bue
Helder, and a few vards along that street is
a restaurant called the Lion d'Or, which
ranks among the best in Paris. I think,
though, that the service is not always what
it should be, but I am very fond of the
cooking. Having peeped into
you can retrace your steps to the Boulevard,
pass Tortoni's and the Maison Doree, and
presently you will come to the Cafe Biche,
which occupies the ground floor and entresol
of the New York Life Insurance building.
This is where poor Harry Homans had his
headquarters, and I sometimes dropped in
there to have a talk with him about things
iu general. The Cafe Biche can boast a rare
clientele, and there is one thing that is cer
tain, the rhef does prepare the nicest sauces
tor fish and fowl that were ever eaten. The
Cafe de l'Opera, under Drexel, Harjes &
Co.'s bank, in the Boulevard Haussuiann, is
a restaurant to be recommended more for its
high prices than for its excellent cuisine,
and yet it ranks among first-class places.
The Cafe de'laPaixhas more customers than
any other establishment in the capital, but
it is not a first-class restaurant "it is a
place where eatables are manufactured,"
was the way in which oqe of my Prench
friends described it the other evening. It
is a popular resort for fast men and women,
both for dinners and for suppers, and its pri
vate rooms are the scenes of frequent orgies.
The dinners at Durand's are notso good as
are the breakfasts. This is the restaurant
opposite the Church of the Madeleine, where
General Boulanger made his headquarters
during the electoral campaign of last Jan
uary. It is famous for its Chateaubriand
beefsteaks; the chef cuts a tenderloin of
double thickness, places it between two or
dinary round steaks and cooks it by broil
ing them over hot coals. These outer slices
are thrown away and the inner one, cooked
to a turn, is served with potatoes, as you
like diem, soufile or a la creme, being the
better way; and I should advbe you to also
'drink white instead of red wine.
There are innumerable second-class res
taurants, and very few indeed are poor ones.
It is not an easy matter to name them all,
but the general'opinion is that Marguery's,
up at the Gymnase Theater, is entitled to
first place, especially for its fishes and its
fine wines. The Bestaurant Noel, in the
Passage de Prince; the Cafe Sylvain, oppo
site the Grand Opera House, in the Bue
Halevy; Champeaux,acrossthewayfromthe
Bourse; Foyot's in iront of the Luxembourg
Palace and just around the corner from the
O.leon Theater; the Tavern Anglais, in the
Bue Eoyale, and Lathuille's, be
yond the Boulevard de Clichy, are
among the best of the second-class
restaurants. I had often heard of Lathu
ille's, but as it is so far out of the way,
and I seldom go in the Batignolle's direc
tion, except when calling on M. and Mme.
Benjamin Constant who live in that part
of the town it was not until about two
weeks ago that I went there with a party to
try it for the first time. Wc dined fairly
well, still the onlypleasant souvenir I have
of the establishment is a bit of history that
the proprietor related me concerning the
establishment and its foundation. Origin
ally, so it seems, it was au old-fashioned
sort of a roadway inn that stood just behind
one of the torts or fortifications which de
fended Paris on that side of tho city.
The Ambassadeurs, Laurent' and Ledo
yens. are three popular houses in the
Champs Blysee; they are tolerably good
places at which to dine, and their clientele
includes some of the more prominent men
of letters of the capital. As -for res
taurants at fixed prices they, too, are plenti
ful, and in their way are worth recommend
ing. Most of them are located in the Palais
Boyal. Finally we have the bouillon estab
lishments, that is to say those cheap eating
houses where you are served by women, and
w here you can got a fairly good meal for
very little money. Duval, the man who
first started them was a butcher; he left a
large fortune to an only son, who spent
nearly every dollar of it on Cora Pearl.
When she had cleaned him out she kicked
him out. In her time she spent millions,
and she died in abject poverty. I believe
he is in a madhouse.
Heottt Hayitie.
Colon Worn by Different Nationalities to
Dcnoto Mourning.
Besides black, the following are used as a
sign of grief for the dead. Black and white
striped to express sorrow and hope, among
the South Sea Islanders. Grayish brown,
the color of the earth to which the dead
return, in Ethiopia. Pale brown, the color
of withered leaves, is the mourning
of Persia. Sky bine to express the assured
hope that the deceased has gone to heaven.
This is the mourning of Syria. Cappadocia
and Armenia. Deep blue in Bokhara.
Purple and violet to express "Kings and
Queens to God." The color ot mourning
for cardinals and kings of Prance. The
color of mourning in Turkey is violet.
White (emblem of hope) the color of mourn
ing in Chins. "
Henry VIH. wore white for Anne Bolcyn.
The ancient ladies of Borne and Sparta
wore white. It was the color of mourning
in Spain till 1498. Yellow (the sear and
yellow leaf), the color of mourning in Egypt
and in Burmah. Anne Boleyn wore yellow
mourning for Catharine of Aragon.
I ' " IP! f '
Ancient Bridge Over the Seine.
A Beggar Takes Pity on a Congressman nnd
Offer Illm Money.
Wuaing-ton Letter.
Congressman Honk, of Tennessee, is
wearing a new suit of clothes. The mere
statement ot the fact will not, probably
strike the people who have not the pleasure
of Judge Houk's acquaintance as one of
much importance or significance. But
Houk's every day friends know him better,
and unless they have seen him lately they
will hardly credit the news. The truth is
that be is a man so careless in his attire and
so indifferent to -his personal appearance
that a single new outward garment is an
event in Houk's life; the donning of an
entire new suit at once marks an epoch.
It came about in this wise. The Judge was
walking in Pennsylvania avenue recently
with a couple of Western friends, when he
was accosted by a tramp whose raiment
might have been fashioneble and new on
the day of Jackson's first inauguration.
" 'Sense me, may I interrupt you for a
moment? Will you give me the price of
a meal?"
Houk promptly replied: "I'm sorry,
boss, but! can't help you. I've just been
trying to get the price of a meal irom these
gentlemen. I haven't had a mouthful of
victuals to-day."
"Well, I say, pard, you look it," re
sponded the tramp, as he sidled up to the
Congressman and looked him over. "Here's
a quarter; you are worse off than I am."
Judge Houk declined the proffered chari
ty, but he suddenly decided that if his ap
pearance was such as to excite the commis
eration and benevolence of a Washington
tramp it was time for him to visit a tailor,
and he lost no time in doing so. I don't
vouch for this story, but "they say" that
Houk tells it on himself, and it so it's true,
for the sturdy East Tennesseean is as truth
ful as he is both wise and witty.
Such Ii tho Testimony of a Dion Who Has
Had the Experience,
That the job of hanging at Ozark was
"bungling" there is no doubt, but that the
Buffering was great, except in the case of the
man who fell and revived, is far from cer
tain. In 1864 John Burns, whom I have
known long and well, lived in Newton
county, this State, on Indian Creek, about
ten miles south of Newtonia, writes a
Springfield, Mo., correspondent of the St.
Louis Post-Dispatch. Mr. Burns was a
quiet man, trying to conduct himself
without offense to either side in the
War of the Rebellion, so that he could re
main at home. But some persons thought
Mr. Burns had money, and a squad of rob
bers, in those days called "bushwhackers,"
called upon him to investigate bisresources.
Mr. B. said he had no money. The bush
whackers then tried the persuasive powers
of a rope. They took a line like a clothes
line, made a running noose, slipped it over
Mr. B.'s head, put the other end of the line
over the ceiling joists of the room they were
in, and swung Mr. B. clear of the floor.
He is about 6 feet, large-boned, weighing
180 to 200 pounds. Three times they pulled
him up, roughly, letting the body slump to
the floor. Mr. B. says that each time as bis
feet left the floor and the weight of his body
came upon the cord he became instantly in
sensible, and continued so until he revived
after falling. He felt no pain at any stage
while suspended. I have more than once
questioned him particularly about this. He
does not knowliow long they kept him up
nor whether he was motionless or in con
tortions while up. He did not fall on the
noose was simply pulled up. It was just
strangulation, with a partial stoppage of
circulation of blood to the brain. No
-wrrioot-TesuIta-faUewodcOBlyJTatsoreneM of
thenecK. . -
Terrible 9IUfortanen In Store for a Wicked
Little Jackdaw.
Irish Cor. Providence Journal. J
Up to this present hour of my life I have
held firmly to the belief that birds, beasts
and insects all religiously keep Sunday,and
now, to my sorrow, 1 am forced to open my
eyes to the sad fact that some of the lax ob
servances of these latter days are creeping
in among the birds, and for, what other
purpose than the repairing and refurnishing
of his nest does that , jackdaw want the
tuft of hair he is so vigorously pulling out
of the strawberry cow's back? Why does
she not flap him with her tail, and so bring
the old-time vengeance on the Sabbath
breaker? No, she just gives a lazy look
round, a little intimation to the jackdaw
not to pull so hard; he answers with a pert
"caw," finishes extracting just the lock of
hair he wants and flies off toward the
mined summer-house, where, no doubt, he
has a cozy nook.
But the nestling or the Sabbath-breaker
will come to no good mark my words.
The nest will be robbed; boys will cruelly
tear the screaming young ones from their
parents, from the free life of tree and field
and loug and happy flights through the
warm air of summer; they will be carried
to some poor cabin in a narrow street, most
of them will perish miserably of hunger.or
of over-feeding, or of worry; of dogs and
children; the survivor will live on, wings
clipped, so that he may never know the
bliss of a bird's greatest joy; he will have
red rags on his legs and a red crest burnt in
with hot seething wax on his head, and so
live on, a mark of scorn to all free birds
the son of the Sabbath-breaking jackdaw.
Proof That FUh Have Reasoning Vower
nnd Exercise Iu
Philadelphia Press.!
"Some time before the death of Seth
Green, the celebrated New York fish cul
turist and naturalist," said a Philadelphian
who takes great interest in piscicultural
matters, "I paid a visit with him to the fish
hatchery of that State at Caledonia. In one
of the ponds there, at that time, there were
6,000 large brook trout, every one of which
had been captured with the fly tied on
barbless hooks in unfrequented brooks in
the Adirondack region. These trout, Mr.
Green said, had conyinced him that fish
have reasoning power and memory. When
they were hooked, he said, and were reeled
slowly in by the careful fishermen who were
capturing them for the State pond, they had
time and opportunity to note the form and
character of the tackle that made them pris
oners. According to Mr. Green they never
forgot that experience. .
"The trout had been in the pond a long
time, the females never being allowed to
.spawn there, and wonld follow Mr. Green
as he walked along the edge of the water,
tossing bits of liver into the pond. To show
that his theory about their memory and
reason was correct, he would carry a cane
and a fish rod concealed behind his back.
If he took the cane from its concealment and
held it out over the water the fish paid no
attention to it; but the moment he produced
the rod with its reel and line attached away
the trout scampered like a flash to distant
parts of the pond. Mr. Green told me that
he would permit anyone to cast a fly in that
pond to his heart's content, as he was satis
fied that not one of the trout would come
near it, so vididly did they remember their
enemy of five years ago."
Patience Sometime Gives Out,
Omaha Herald. J
Human nature is very patient, tfct there
are times when its trials are too great.
Thus we hear of book, agents being found
A Stalwart, Well-Proportioned and
Picturesque People.
Living on a Piano of Equality .With Their
White Neighbors.
1. "Nice Ohaney
oranges, boss? nice
Chaney oranges?"
The speaker was
a typical Cuban
mammy, good na
tured and sparsely
dressed I She was
stationed at the door
of her cabin, where
a primitive counter
had been erected.
TTrjon this she had
iv nil J
Orange Tree.
arranged the "nice Chaney oranges" she
offered for sale.
I bought some in order to talk to the
woman, who se'emed intelligent. In the
midst of our conversation a man emerged,
from the interior of the shanty, which con
sisted of a ground floor of mother earth and
a roof of the dried leaves of the pineapple.
The man was white, and looked as if
he might be a common laborer.
My surprise was great when mammy
with a smile of happy possessorship told me
he was her "man." At this point a small
colony of pickaninnies of different sizes and
degrees of duskiness came on the scene. This
job lot of assorted cherubs, mammy Informed
me, composed their family. Well, I was
horrified. I did not then know that this is
of common occurrence here in Cuba. Any
white man who wishes can assume the re
sponsibilities of a family of mulatto child
ren. No legal form is necessary. Men may
be seen everywhere walking about with
veritable "Queens of the Night."
This mingling of the black and the white
is going on so rapidly that the probabilities
are that in 100 years Cuba will be a black
country. The negro is crowding out the
white element, which only decays in a land
never intended for it.
I once made the statement that the Cuban
men were ugly, insignificant and unattrac
tive. I take it back. I had not then Been
the Cuban negro in all his glory. He is a
most splendid type of manhood; strong,
stalwart, sinewy, perfectly developed and
splendidly proportioned. His complexion
is not the golden brown of our SoutheA
negro, but is as shiny and black as polished
ebony. A Cuban negro, six feet in height,
dressed in cast-off garments in various stages
of paucity and dilapidation, with a white
turban around his head and thick brass
hoops in his ears is one of the most pictur
esque sights in Havana.
By intermarriage with the Spanish the
negro features are often nearly eliminated.
Then we see the ttuly handsome Cuban
darkey with the straight black hair, the
oWrlv nnt features of Srjain. and when
carrying upon his turbaned head a tray
uiieu wim vrupiua iun, no bwb m ...j
in antique bronze.
The negro, like the sugar cane he loves,
is tropical. Without any apparent excuse
he is happy. Beneath a sun that would be
sufficiently hot for a clam bake he sleeps on
serenely. "Until 12 years of age he runs
about absolutely 'naked. After that time
he wears as little as possible.
The Cuban negro is not idle. In this
country of inaction he works. One-half the
population of the island is black. The
whites, by some conventional law, do noth
ing. The blacks then are forced to do it all.
I mentioned that there was not much
thrift and a good deal of rocking chair in a
Cuban's life. "Who then directs the house
hold?" The negro servants. They nurse
the babies, do the marketing, make the beds,
in fact, "run" no, the Cuban never runs
manage the house. They all eat, too. Every
one who feeds them is convinced that a
Cuban negro can eat. Some of them will
tell you that they never had enough to eat
in their life.
I enjoy fun myself, so I soon questioned
about the amusements of the negro. I
learned that he just had one dancing. The
typical negro dance is an expression of joy.
Sorrow is soon conquered through its
agency. Any Sunday evening you may see
him dance. His only orchestra is a drum,
fashioned by himself. He holds the drum
between his knees, and beats it with his
open hands. He wriggles, he writhes at
the pleasure it gives him. At the same
time a buxom yellow girl and a barefooted
lad are dancing an African can-can. She
is coy he is gallant. They simply shuffle
and twist themselves. There is neither skill
nor beauty in it. The pleasure is derived
from moving the body in time with the
monotonous notes of the drum. Originally
clumsy and awkward in movement, inade
quate in the matter of calves and often mal
formed in the shape of his ieet, a negro can
dance all night to" the tune of five notes
played over and oyer again on a battered
guitar. . .
Women soon adapt themselves to a new
language, and I soon constructed a mongrel
dialect by which I could make the Havana
darkies understand my wants. They speak
the Spanish, eliminating the harsh sounds
from the most musical language, and leave'
off all unnecessary syllables. I managed to
talk pretty well to them, but when we came
upon the native African I had to fall back
upon the worn-out and old-style maxim,
"Silence is golden." Manynative Africans
who have been captured from war ships and
who still speak their own heathenish lan
guage, are found in Havana. .T noticed
three slits In their cheeks, which our inter
preter said were marks of beauty in their
country, but I know they were the effects of
their dreadfnl language with its unpro
nounceable consonants.
They entertained us by singing a song of
their country. Now there is sincing and
singing. That which they designate by the
name of singing I should simply call wail
ing. Talk about wails of lost souls; tbey
sink into nothingness when compared with
the wails uttered by these Africans under
the deluding name, music If ever there
was a lugubrious performance, this is one.
The negro song or Cuba lacks the plain
tiyeness of our plantation melodies and is
always semi-religious in character. You
"JVJc? Chaney Oranges, Boa "
can readily believe this. All the Cuban
idea of religion is embraced in the word,
hell. Its religious songs are suggestive $f
the most intense woes and tortures of that
perspective place. ,
The yellow girl is one of the most at
tractive phases of negro life to be encoun
tered. She has enough white blood in her
to enable her to still further turn-up her
cose at the blacks. Nearly as white as her
Cuban mistress, she is a dangerous rival.
The degree of difference in the complexion
w lessened by the wholesale application of
powder. She chalks her face with it, not
regarding the manner of its appliance, nor
does she try to delude the spectator. She
tinges her cheeks with rouge and stains her
eyebrows with dark juices. If not' too
closely examined the yellow girl is really
very beautiful. She begins to keep her eyes
open, or what is better, eoquettisbly drooped
for beaux at an early age. All .week she
runs about in a tawdy skirt of her mis
tress', bare-footed and dirty. On Sunday
she blooms out in the glory of a bright
colored dress, shoes and perfume, ready to
captivate some gentleman of color.
Every negro speaks to every white person
he meets. He touches his hat and nods, ex
pecting you to dp the same. A nod or a
smile makes a Cuban negro happy. Even
a beggar would rather you refuse him a
penny and give him a smile than to give
him the money and deny him the smile.
They are the best-natured and generous peo
ple in the world, and most of themre kind
ly and polite. After hoarding up enough
Cuban Basket Makers.
to buy a meal of sugar-cane to him the
embodiment of earthly bliss-a Caban ne
gro will give you his cane if yon ask him
for it. I
All the negroes own dogs, usually the va
riety known as "yaller dogs." I wanted to
buy one, but preferred -a more exclusive
breed, One day I accosted a negKf,wlo
was carrying the most respectable specimen
of a dog I had seen in Havana,' saying:
"Have you that "dog for sale?" She
grunted what I discovered meant "No,"
but added that she had a lady friend, Miss
Jamaica, who had. I told her to bring Miss
Jamaica in company with her dog to my
hotel at 11 o'clock on the following day.
Now, every darky in Havana owns a dog,
and they all "must have received official in
formation of the fact that I wanted to buy
one. To buy a dog in Cuba stamped me as
a curiosity. Doubtless among the negroes,
no one had ever been heard of who didn't
steal a dog if he wanted it. At auy rate,
the news of the American "freak" spread,
and the owners ot canines were told to pre
sent themselves and their pups at the Pasaje
Hotel the next morninpr at 11.
I relate with agitation what transpired
upon that ill-fated day. People tell you
that "to-morrow never comes." I devoutly
hoped that this one wouldn't. It did, how
ever, and some of the candidates were on
hand by 6 o'clock A. M. eagerly inquiring
for her who had in a rash moment said she
wanted to buy a dog. By 9- o'clock the
arched court was
and, darkies. The yelping suggested the.
NeVYorBTUog fihowWteaTeame-oul to
breakfast-I was besieged by a score of dog
owners, who proceeded to describe the good
points of their animals. I felt as if I were
possessed. I was afraid to chooie one,
though they were of the same nondescript
species, lest the others might revenge them
selves in some unique and barbarous
fashion. I made a pretense of looking over
the dogs. I then announced that I would
wait a few days before making a selection,
and distributed some Spanish scriot among
the disconsolate owners of the dogs.
This method of dismissing the dog fan
ciers sufficed to make them happy, and
smiling and content they left me once more
in peace.
Until the last five years the Cuban negroes
were in a state of revolting servitude. They
worked under leaders whose emblem of au
thority was the whip. Now they occupy a
state of comparative freedom. Their chil
dren may go to school if they like (which
they often don't),, and all occupations are
open to them. Of course the negro lives
and has his pleasures apart, but hs is not
driven from the enjoyments of public places
because he is black. The white man who
chooses to associate witbT the black is not
hated on that account. If he live with a
black woman, he is compelled to have a
permit from the Governor General, and is
forced to support her and provide for her as
he would for a wife. This law is about the
only obligatory one in the Cuban code.
Wherever the negro thrives he is in all re
spects the same. He retains with his color
his African nature. "The Ethiopian can
not change his skin," neither can he change
his social, merry, loquacious, docile and
thoroughly unsubstantial character.
Lillian Spenceb.
An Accident That Canoed Great Embarrass
ment to a Hanshty Young Woman.
New York Sun.j
One day last week a beautiful and haughty
young woman in a very stylish costume
walked up Fifth avenue. Past the Calu
met, the New York and Union League
Clubs' windows she swept with a swift,
regular movement, looking neither to the
right nor the left, and the only acknowledg
ment that she gave of the attempts of the
clubmen to win her smiles was a disdainful
curl of her thin beautiful lips. In one
hand she carried what looked like a card
case. At the corner of Forty-third street
a fat, red-faced little man, in a hurry to
catch a down-coming stage,brushed roughly
against her. He struck against the hand
in which was the supposed card case, and
the latter fell to the sidewalk. It burst
open and out rolledalotof small pokerchips.
The youne woman seemed in danger of an
attack of hysterics, the little man blushed
and stammered his apology, while a Union
League Glub man came up in time to rescue
the cardcase and chips.
A smiling throng watched him pick up
the chips, put them deftly back into the
case and hand them to their crestfallen
owner with a most graceful bow.The young
woman barely acknowledged the kindness,
and went swifter down Forty-third street,
where she disappeared in a brown-stone
House Hunting;..
Mrs. Tab Tes, my dears, I like the house
very much, bat that bootjack looks very
suspicious. Life.
Being an Account of a' Strange Experiment '.in
Psychology, Eecenfly Conducted
by a Physician. . .
Written for The Dispatch by
SEDNET LUSKA (Henry Harlanrl.)
Leopold Benary, an old New York physician,
prevents Louise Masarte, a beautiful young
woman, from suiciding fn the East river at
midnight The woman says she has 'neither"
friends, relatives nor money, and she is haunt
ed by the memory of her past She resists the
doctor's interference, but finally agrees to go
to his home, where he engages to show her a
better way out of her trouble or to release her
within an hour. There sho tells the physician
that sue has been guilty of a crime that cannot
be outlived. The physician tells her that he
can, by means of -an operation, obliterate her
memory of all 'past events; that mentally she
will he as a newly-born babe. Ho offers to per
form the operation, and with the aid of his sis
ter Josephine educate her in her new life. She
accepts the offer, and the next morning the op
eration is successfully performed. The physP
cian and his sister educate her, and introduce
her to their friends as their niece, Miriam.
Four years later the doctor is saved from tho
blizzard by Henry Falrchild, a youns sculptor,
Dr. Benary Insists upon the sculptor remaining
at his house for the evening, and Introduces his
niece Miriam. Tho sculptor recognlzes the
The hall was quite dark. From the end
of it, directly behind me, came the response,
"Yes, brother."
"Ah, you are there?" I questioned.
"I have been waiting here for you to wake.
I did not wish to disturb your sleep," she
"And they where are they now?"
"Mr. Fairchild Is in the spare room,
where he is to sleep. Miriam is in her
room. I could" not come to you so long as
they were together. It would not do to
leave them alone. That is why I wrote the
By this time we were in my chamber, and
I had closed the door behind us.
"And now, for heaven's sake, explain to
me what this means," I said, holding up
the sheet of paper.
"It means exactly what it says. -He has
recognized Miriam."
"Oh, it is impossible," I declared.
"I only wish that you were right," sighed
Josephine, dolefully. i
"But how but why but - what what
leads you to think so?" I stammered.
'His action when he first saw her when
she and I entered the room where he was to
greet him this forenoon."
"Oh, it is impossible, impossible, I re
peated. "What was his action? Wlfat
did he do?"
The instant he laid eyes upon her he
started, and caught his b'reath, and colored
up, ana then turned white, and then red
"Merciful heavens!" I gasped, panic
stricken. "What ever shall we do?" my poor sister
"Did did Miriam notice his embarrass
ment?" I inquired.
"I think not She did not appear to,
Then befell a pause, during which I re
flected. "Well, brother?" queried Josephlne,after
the silence bad continued a minute or two.
"It is impossible: it is absolutely im-
possible. L'said, having. jfloverstLA.good.
deal of rayeff.possessioni '-"Her own
mother would be unable to recognize her.
She is altered beyond recognition- Why,
that dead woman would by this time be
nearly 30 years of age; whereas Miriam
doesn't look 22. Besides, the whole char
acter And expression of her face are
changed." -"All
that is true; and yet he started."
"Well, even so; what of it? Perhaps it
was of her resemblance to the dead woman
supposing him to.have known her. But
he would never dream of identifying her as
one and the same. A young girl ot one or
two and twentyl A sad-eyed, sorrow
stricken woman, ten years her senior! The
probability, however, is that he never knew
Louise Mnssarte at all; but he started and
colored up at the sight of Miriam, because
she fs so beautiful, and he is
Ka young man and an artist. What quick-
blooded young iellow wouia not coior up at
the sight ot, so lovely a young girl? Or
else, it is imaginable, he has seen Miriam
herself somewhere, before in.the street in
a horsecar or where not; and was im
pressed by her; and then he started for sur
prise and pleasure at finding himself under
the same roof with her. Yen, my good
Josephine, have jumped to a conclusion.
The chances-are ten to one it is a false one.
Afterward, for instance, did he follow up
bis start with such conduct as justified you
in your suspicions?"
"No. He simply returned our saluta
tions, and behaved toward her as he did
toward me, as if she were a perfectly new
"Good! And then, consider the non
chalence and freedom with which he talked
to her at luncheon I No, no; it is impossi
ble. Well, I will keep an eye on him
during dinner; and alter dinner you and
Miriam must leave us. alone together to dis
cuss our cigars; and then I will seek ta find
out what the true explanation of the mat
ter may be."
And my sister and I descendetLto the
dining room.
Throughout the meal I carefully observed
Fairchild's bearing toward Miriam; and
my satisfaction was, great to see in it only
and exactly what, under the circumstances,
could rightly have been expected. Frank,
gay, Interested, attentive, yet undeviating
ly 'courteous, respectful, and even defer
ental, it was precisely the bearing due from
a young gentleman of good breeding to the
lady at whose side he found himself, and
whose acquaintance" he had butvlately
"So that," I concluded, "of all conceiv
able theories adequate to account for his
behavior at first setting eyes upon her,
Josephine's is farthest-fetched and the least
For the matter of that, as I had assured
my sister, I was confident that her own
mother, had shebeen alive, must have failed
to identily her, so essentially was she
altered, both in expression of 'countenance
and in apparent age. That Fairchild did
not do so I was certain. His manner ex
hibited neither surprise, mystification, curi
osity nor constraint. It would have re
quired a far cunninger actor thanl took him
to be, so effectually to have disguised such
emotions, and he really felf them, and he
could not have helped feeling them if, hav
ing known the dead woman, Louise Mas
sarte, he had recognized her in the young
and innocent maiden, Miriam Benary. The
right theory by which to explain his con
duct at first meeting her, I purposed dis
covering, if I could, when he and I were
He a3 Miriam had a great deal of fun
together making the salad, in which enter
prise they co-operated, not, however, with
out much laughing difference as to the bett
method of procedure. He claimed that in
stead of rubbing the howl with garlio one
should introduce a chapon, or crust of
bread correctly tinctured with that herb,
and fatiguer it with the lettuce, while our
niece vigorously maintained the opposite.
And .finally tbey drew lots to determine
which policy should prevail, Miriam wi
nlng. ' "I am defeated, but my spirit is no
broken," Fairchild declared. "If there i
one accomplishment upon which I pride
myself, Miss Benaryr it is my proficiency
in the science of gastronomy. You have
taken it out of my power to display my
skill in salad-making, but now, if yon are
a-generous rival, you will give me an op
portunity to distinguish myself in the con
fection of an omelet It is an omelet of my
own invention; a sort of cross between the
ordinary omelette au vin of the French and
the Italian Zabaniano. I shall require the
use of that chafing-dish and spirit lamp
which I see on the sideboard, the sherry de
canter and half a dozen eggs. I promise
your palates a delectable experience; and
you, Miss Benary, by watching me, will
acquire an invaluable art."
So, with much merriment, he proceeded
with the manufacture of his omelet, Miriam
observing and assisting. When it was com
plete fe unanimously voted it the most de?
licious thing in the way of an omelet that
we had ever tasted. Bat Miriam sighed
and said, "It is all very simple except the
jnost important point The way you toss
the omelet up into the air, let it turn over,
and then catch it again as it descends I
am sure I shall never be able to do that."
"You must practice it with beans," said
Fairchild. "A pint of beans dry beans,
you know, the kind used for baking. Three
hours' practice a, day for six months, and
you will do it almost as easily as I do.
With the advent of the coffee the ladies
left us, and haying lighted our cigars we
smoked for a few minutes without speaking.
Fairchild. was tho first to break the silence.
"Well, Dr. Benary," be began, "lean do
1 ' i -
g A EMmf
nothing but congratulate myself upon the,
happy chance that brought about our en
counter this morning. For once in jny life
I was in luck."
"It seems to me," X replled,"that it is I
who was in luck, and who have the best oc-
Luasion Sot sslf-congrtulation."
-xnai wouia aepena upon me auoious
question of the value of life," said he. "I
am skeptical whether we confer a boon or
inflict a bane upon the human being whom
we bring into existence or whose exit there
from we prevent It is probable, indeed,
that except for our meeting you would at
this hour have been numbered among the
honored dead. Brit very likely either en
joying the excitements of the Happy Hunt
lneJGroundor sleeping the deep sleep of an
nihilation very likely, I say, you would
have been better off than you are actually,
or can ever hope to be in the flesh. About
my good fonune, contrariwise, debate is im
possible. Here I am in veritable clover,
smoking a capital cigar, after a capital din
ner, and the richer by the acquisition of
three new friends, for. as friends X trust I
may be allowed to reckon- you and your
ladies. Had I not happened to run across
you in the way I did, on the other hand, I
should now have been seated alone by my
bachelor's hearth, with no companions but
mv plaster models, and no voice to cheer my
solitude save the bowling of the storm."
"It is very flattering of you to put the
matter as yon do; but being modish in no
respect, I am least of all so in my meta
physics. Therefore I cannot share your
pessimistic doubt of the value of life; and I
assure you I should have hated bitterly to
leave mine behind me in that ungodly snow
bank. It is true, I am perilously close to
the scriptural limitation of man's age; and
I ought perhaps to feel that I have had my
fit and proper share of this world's vanities
and to be prepared for my inevitable journey
to the next, But, I must confess, I am so
little of a philosopher that I should dearly
like to tarry here a few years longer; and
hence, I maintain, my obligation to you is
indisputably established,"
"Well, then, so far as I can see, we may
consider ourselves quits."
"Hardly; the balance is still tremend
ously in your favor."
Alter that we again smoked for awhile
without speaking. Then again Fairchild
broke the silence.
"I wonder whether you would take it
amiss, Dr. Benary," he ventured, "if I
should mention something which has been
the object of my delighted admiration al
most from the moment I entered your
".What is that?" Iqueried.
"I fear you will condemn me as over-bold
if I answer candidly; but I shall do so, and
accept the consequences. The circumstance
that I am an artist may be pleaded in my
behalf if I seem to transcend the bounds of
the conventional."
"You pique my curiosity. What is it
that fou allude to? I do not think you
need be apprehensive of my wrath. My ex
tended edition of the Lite of Sir Joshua?
That is the result of ten years hard labdr.
Or my Quadroon woman by Sartain? It's a
wondertul piece of flesh painting, truly.
It looks as though it would bleed, if you
pricked it."
"Yes, it's in Sartain's best style. But this
is not what I had inmind; neither is the
life of Sir Joshua, which, by the way, I have
not seen."
"Not seen it? Oh, well, I must show it
to you directly we go upstairs. But what
then? I do not know what I have worthy
of such admiration as you profess."
"You-have a niece; and I allude to her
extraordinary beauty."
My pulse quickened. Here had he, of his
own accord, broached that very topic upon
which I was anxious to sound him.
"Ah, yes, Miriam," I assented, a trifle
nervously, and wondering what would come
next. "Miriam. Yes, she's a very pretty
girl." ""
"Pretty!" he repeated. "Pretty? Why,
my dear sir, she's who, in fiye years I've
not seen so beautiful a woman. And it
isn't simply that she is so beautiful, but its
her type. Her type I believe I am safe in
calling it the least frequent, the rarest, in
the whole range of womanhood. Forgive
my fervor. I speak as an artist, as one to
whom the beautilnl is a constanstudy. It
is a type of which you occasionally see a
perfect specimen in antique marble; but in
flesh and blood, not oftener than once in a
lifetime. To say nothing of her coloring,
which a painter would go wild over, eon-
"pages 17 roo:
sider that magnificent sweep of profile.
Brow, nose, lips, chin, throat, described by
one splendid flowing line. It's 'Junoesque,
sir. It'sworth years of coramonplacenes x
to have lived to See, it in a veritable breath-'
ing woman."
"Yet," I admitted, "it's a fine profile,
noble face."
"Her type is so rare," he went on, "that,
as I have said, nature Succeeds in prodno--ing
a faultless specimen of it not oftener
than once in a generation. Of faulty speci
menscomparable, I might say to flawed
castings she turns oat many every year. .
Have you been in Borne? Trastcvere tsems
with sucb, 'failures women who approach,
but always falllamentably short, of the per-1
fection yourniece embodies."
"Yes, I know the Trasteverine, and I see j
the resemblance you refer to. But as yo
intimate, they are coarse amct crude copies
of Miriam. That expression of high spirit
uality) which is the dominant note is her
face is quite absent from theirs."
"They compare to her as pressed terra
cotta compares to chiseled marble. In all
Lmy life I have known but one woman who
r 1J 1 .; J 2 .1.. ... I..-.!. 3iT
coiuu ub xueubiuueu iu tua muuu uxcaM n.u
her, and she was a good distance behind.
Why, to-day, when Miss Benary came into
the room where you had left me, I declare
for a moment my breath was almost takea
away. I conld scarcely believe my eyes.
Such beauty seemed beyond reality; it
was like a realized dream. I forgot my
manners in my admiration, and it wis soma
seconds before I remembered to make my
bow. When our friendship is older, Dr.
Benary, you must permit me to model her
Thus was my mind set at efse. Presently
we i'6ined the ladies, and while Fairchild
and Miriam chatted together in the bay
window, I drew Josephine aside and com
municated to her the upshot of our post
prandial conversation. She accomplished
a mighty sighand professed herself to ba
vastly relieved.
Fairchild became a frequent visitor at
our house, and an ever welcome one. His
good looks, his good sense, his honesty, his
high spirits, made him an extremely pleas-
ant companion. We , were always glad ta
see him; we all liked him cordially. I told
him that if hedidn't mindpotlucx, he must
feel at liberty to drop in and dine with ua
whenever his inclination prompted and his;
leisure would permit Ho took me at my
word, as I meant he should; and fromJthat
time forth he broke bread witty-aaTieveS
seldomer than one eveniotrimt of the seven.
At the end of a month; or perhaps six
weeks, Josephine said to me, "Do you
think it is well, brother, that two young
people of opposite sexes should be thrown
together as frequently and as closely as Mr.
Fairchild and Miriam are?"
"Whynot?" questioned L
"The reason is obvious. How would yos
be pleased if they should fall in love?"
"The Lord forbid I But I see no danger
of their doing so."
"There is always danger when a beautiful
young girl and a spirited young man sea
too much of each other." t
"But Mr. Fairchild pays no more atten
tion to Miriamthan ha does to you or me.
They are never left alone together. They
are simply good friends." ' v
"As yet, perhaps, yes. But time works)
changes. True, as, you say, they are never .
left alone together not exactly alone, that
is. But are they not virtually alone when
you and I are seated here in the library
oyer our backgammon board, and they ara
there in the parlor at the piano ?"
"But, my dear sister, the two rooms arras
one. The folding 'doors are never closed."
"True again. We are all within sight
and hearing of one another. But as a mat-,
ter of fact yon and I give no heed to them,
nor do they to us. There are certain laws
of nature which should not be ignored."
"Well, what do you want me to do?" I
inquired, rather testily. "Shall I forbid
Fairchild the house? Forbid my house to
themanwfco saved my life?"
"Oh, no, of course not. You know I
could not wish such a thing as that. Mr.
Fairchild's claims upon our gratitude must
never be forgotten; and besides, I like hlnx
and I enjoy his visits as heartily as yo do
"Only what? If I don't forbid him tho
house, how can I prevent him, and Miriam,
meeting? Shall I direct her to keep her
room whenever he comes?"
"I do thinkbrother, it would ba well if
she were not always present when he comes.
If you wish to hear my honest opinion, X
believe it'is to see her that he comes so
often, and not to see a conple of soberelderly
persons like you and me. I cannot fancy
that you and I are so irresistibly attractive
as to draw him to our honse as frequently aa
once or twice a week. However, I only
wished to call your attention to the matter.' .
It is for yon now to act as your best judg
ment dictates." ,
"Well, then, my good Josephine, I shall
not act at all. There is no occasion-for my
acting. I shall be unjust and unreasonable)
to prevent these two young folks getting
what innocent pleasure they can rrom each,
other's society and friendship, simply be
cause, in the abstract, it is true that they
are not incapable of falling in love, x
might as reasonably enjoin. Miriam against
ever going1 out of doora,- because it is pos
sible that in the street she might be run
over; against ever drinking a class of
water, because it is possible that the water
might contain a disease germ. You nftva
conjured up a chimera. Your fears ar
those of a too imaginative woman. When
I perceive the first symptom of anything
sentimental existing between them it will
be time enough to act"
"Perhaps then, brother, it will be too
late," retorted Josephine, and with that she
dropped the subject
Well, of course, as the reader has fore
seen, that very complication which my sis
ter feared and warned me of, and which I
refused to consideiv-of course that very
complication came to pass. Fairchild fell
in love with Miriam, and Miriam recipro
cated his unfortunate passion. Otherwise,
his name had never been introduced, into
this history, or rather there would have been
no such history to relate.
In June, 1888, Josephine, Miriam and I
went down to the little village of Maskata
quonk (familiarly, Quonk), on the coast of
Maine, then to rusticate until September.
Toward the end of July Fairchild joined us
there, pursuant to an arrangement made era
we left the city; and it was on the evening
of the 15th of August that he requested 4
few minutes' private talk with me, and then
iaformedme of the condition ot affairs.
"I love your niece with all my heart and
soul, Dr. Benary; indeed, I have Joyed br