THE PITTSBURG DISPATCH THIRD PART " PAGE 17 TO 2D; ' I" PITTSBURG. SUNDAY, JANUARY 26, L890. . OF Great Men "Who Are Hand some, Wealthy and Loving. GOOD SENATOBIALCATCHES Rosy, Warm-BIooded Bachelors and Desirable Widowers, HANDSOMEST MAN IN WASHINGTON rOOEKESrOXDXITCE or TBX DISPATCH.! "Washington, January 25. HE matrimo nial season of "Washington is at its height. Yon sec billing and cooing X going on in the recesses 01 tne East Boom at every "White House recep tion. The cozy nooks in Vice President Mor ton's residence have been ap propriated b y loTers and the $100,000,000 that is trotting around in petticoats and pantaloons is being besieged at afternoon teas, at eTening din-, .x. Siggim. AUK CONGRESS i 7I t $ K iXflr5 Ik Aw Usjplv x TWO SENATORIAL BACHELORS. ners, and upon every other available occa sion. "Washington has its marriageable men as well as its marriageable women, and the firty millions owned by the heiresses is offset by a like amount owned by good catches among the men. The males have brains in addition to their money, and it is no wonder that hundreds of girls come here every winter hoping to carry away a noted husband. Even the Senate has put np some good material at auction, and the girls who throw the most love and beauty into their bids will knock the persimmons. "Wolcott, of Colorado, is a bachelor,and the long skin-and-bone bachelor, Saulsbury, has retired to give place to a rosv, full -blooded, strong- muscled successor named Higgins, who has never been married, and who has made enough at the law to support an extravagant wil. Higgins would make a dear of a bus band, and I sat in the Senate to-day and feasted mv eyes on his person. Straight, broad-shouldered and chunky, he nas regu lar features, and his brave blue eyes shine with strencth and with tenderness. He has a good crop of light hair, well combed, and he dresses in taste. He is pugna cious and strong, and he wonld fight to the death for the woman he loved. He comes from South Delaware and he has made a reputation as a lawyer. His check is good for $100,000, and he is as liberal as he is rich. He has a house here at "Washing ton near Dupont Circle and his only incum brances are two pretty nieces whom, I doubt not, a new wife could manage. The Sena tor is 49 years old. He is well educated, is a graduate of Yale and is a good catch. He has the sweetest voice woman ever listened to. It is melodious, caressing and sincere, and tbe "Washington girls say that his na ture is better expressed by his voice than his face. He is forward in politics, but rather backward in love, and he recently said to a friend that a "widower had more chance in "Washington society than a bach elor, for," as he expressed it, "there is no chance for a bachelor when a widower is around. The widowers gush and flatter so much that it makes an ordinary man tongue tied." A COLORADO CATCH. Senator "Wolcott, of Colorado, is, if anv thing, a better catch than Higgins. In the first place he is yonnger, having been born only 41 years ago. He is better looking than Higgins, and, though his savings may not be so large, his income is certainly greater. He makes, it is said, $75,000 a year at the law, and spends it. He is a graduate of Yale, has luxurious tastes, and will not cut down the appropriation of pin money. He is a good dresser, and he is lull of that personal magnetism which is popular among women, and which aids in making a man a great statesman. There is not a drop of sluggish blood in his whole anatomy, and he is warm from the crown of his semi-bald head to the ends of his pearly pink toes. It is said, however, that he has had his romance, and that he loved and lost wben he was a voung lawyer in Chicago just 20 years ago. He Count at Chambrun. TWO DIPLOMATIC BEAUX. oved the daughter of one of the rich men of that city, but the father of the girl was a lawyer who had no high opinion of Wolcott. He grumbled at the yonng man's calls and prophesied to his daughter that her lover would never earn his salt, and told her she had better refnse him. The girl was more prudent than lovine. At the advice of her father she married a sober stick of a fellow who was making some money at his practice and saving his pennies. Wolcott went West and his first love still lives In Chicago, the wife of a moderately successful man, who would grow crazy if he spent as much money in a rear as'Senator Wolcott makes ay with in a day. The girl is practically unknown and she regrets, I doubt not. the chance she lost. In the meantime "Wolcott has never yet married, and the Washington girls are laying hard siege to his heart. TWO SENATORIAL "WIDOWERS. Senator Allison is still unmarried. He came back from his Alaska trip with a bran new mustache and ten years more of youth in his features. He has been, I think, twice a widower, but the gossips say that he is ready to choose a tbira wiie. Those who know best say that the story of his engagement with the lady whom he met on his Alaska trip was only a newspaper sensation, and that he and Miss Stoughton were merely excellent friends and no more. During the trip this newspaper story reached them, a paper having been sent from Portland to Senator Hale, of Maine, and this paper stated that Mrs. Hale, as Miss Stoughtons chaperon, had sent the young lady out for a walk with the Iowa Senator, and that he haa popped the ques tion under the icy brows of an over hanging iceberg. It sounded well, but it was not true, and Senator Allison is still on the market. There is hardly a man in "Washington who offers more advantages to the bidder. He is handsome and rich, and he ranks as a Presidental possibility. I am not sure that he has any ideas of marriage, and the duennas tell me that he never goes any place and cares for no woman's society save that of one of the most lovable and cul tured women of "Washington, his fragile little mother-in-law, Mrs. Ex-Senator Grimes. On her receiving days he some times comes down to the drawing room, but the only time he puts on the claw-hammer coat is once a year when he goes to a White House reception. He owns, you know, a good house in "Washington. He dresses well, and though he has lived for a gener ation or so, his skin is clear and un wrinkled, and his blood is as warm as the steam of a Turkish bath. A JANUARY WITH MILLIONS. Senator Philetus Sawyer is another Sena torial widower. It is true he is 73, but when January has millions May is very glad to Wolcott. wed. The Senator is young in reality, though old in years and experience. He is a jolly good fellow.and he has the finest brown stone castle in Washineton. He could enter tain in royal style, and his wife might order even her 'kitchen dresses from "Worth and not deplete the family exchequer. There are a number of good catches in the Honse of Representatives. Quite a number of them have gone off within the past year. Colonel Abner Taylor, tbe rich Chicagoan, shipped out to Michigan not long ago and married without giving "the "Washington girls a chance. Mark Brewer, of Michigan, came back to Congress this year with a wife, and tbe dear, blonde-mustached young wid ower, Hemphill, of South Carolina, has mar ried again. Owens, of Indiana, has wedded a pretty widow who cared for him when he was ill in a big but unfeeling Chicago hotel, Alliton. wilt N TWO SENATORIAL WIDOWERS. and Jackson, the rich Pennsylvanian, and Timothy Campbell, of New York, have not been returned. ANSWERS THE GIRLS' LETTERS. Charley O'Neill, ol Philadelphia, how ever, is here, and handsome Harry Bing ham, of the same City of Brotherly Love.has kept his affections pare, and the batchelor blush still mantles his cheek. O'Neill is 67 years old, but he does not look over 60, and I am told that he corresponds with more ladies than any other man in the House. He is one of tbe kindest hearted men in the world, and he writes to the girls strictly on business, and because he cannot refuse to answer their inquiries. He makes it a principle to answer every letter he re ceives, and he has done this ever since he first came to Congress, more than a score of years ago. His connection with Washing ton society, however, does not extend out side or his letters. He used to go to all the afternoon teas, and he was one of the lead ing figures of all the receptions. Of late he has dropped giddy ways, and though he likes to talk to ladies and takes a fatherly interest in the debutantes, he sticks to his workshop and pen. General Harry Bingham is one of the Baron von Mumm SchwarUemtein. t marked men from the galleries. He is very uanmome ana be always looks as though he came out of a band-box. He is a little bald, it is true, but his cheeks are as rosy as those of a milkmaid and his smile is childlike and bland. His history is a fetching one. He was abrave soldier when he married a lovely Baltimore girl. They lived in the prettiest sort of a house on L street, in Washington, for several years, and his wife died there a few years ago. She had been an invalid for some time, and he cared for her as tenderly as a woman. It is doubtful if he will ever marry again, for he shows himself in society only at two or three re ceptions a year. John Pendleton, of Wheeling, is the batchelorof the "West Virginia delegation. He is 49 years old, is a practising lawyer and is now having his first term in the House. He is educated and in all proba bility has money. Dunphy.of New York, is certainly rich, and he is a bachelor who has never held office. He has the seat of Gen eral Lloyd Brice in the House, and he is only 38 years old just the age for a groom. THE DIPLOMATIC BEAUX. The diplomates are beaux by profession. There are a dozen odd young attaches among tbem who part their hair in tne miauie ana jabber sweet nothings to the beanties in French. You find them collected about the richer of the heiresses, and they want noth ing under a million free from incumbrances. Among the older diplomates there are some good catches. At their head is Count Arco Valley. He says he Is a bachelor, although the actress Jani'sh bills herself as Countess Von Arco Valley, and claims that she was legally married to the six-foot German soldier. Arco Valley is a distinguished looking citizen, and when he appears in full conrt uniform, with a monocle' as big asa trade dollar screwed into his right eve, he is the sensation of the reception. He is a marked character anywhere, and as he walks up and down Pennsylvania avenue, with two beaele hounds in leasb trotting behind him, he has the whole pavement. He is not very wealthy, but his name is old and his position at the German court is assured. He has so far shown no marrying tendencies, and I have not yet seen a marriageable girl who savs that she has received a loving glance through that terrible eyeglass. THE FAMOUS CnAMPAGNE FAMILY. Baron von Mumm Schwarzenstein, of the German legation, is one of the richest of the diplomates. His family makes tbe great champagne, and he is a remarkable charac ter. He has a leg as big around as many an attache's waist, and he is over six feet in height and about three broad. Alexander Greger, of the Russian legation, is worth $2,000,000. He comes of a good family, and is fairly handsome. Mr. Arthur Herbert, of the English legation, is another catch. Among the irretistibles of the navy is Dr. L. M. Ruth, whom Mrs. Cleveland called the handsomest man in Washington. He is an authority on women's dresses, and it is said that he once expressed surprise that a woman as brune as Mrs. Cleveland should wear violet. One day after Mrs. Cleveland had heard the remark he met her at a recep tion, and as he shook her hand he mur mured: "The violet gownl" "Yes," said Mrs. Cleveland, "but it shall never be worn again." And it was not Dr. Euth had charge of the Harrison in augural ball. He has been best man at 60 weddings, and will preside at a number ot the gay affairs of the next few weeks. OLD, BUT NOT YET CAUGHT. The old beaux whom every belle forthe last ten years has known are the various scions of the old Blair family. Of the five Mr. Lowery has the largest fortune. He will one day inherit $3,000,000 from his father, Judge Lowery, who is so intimate a friend of the Secretary of State. Mr. Charles Sherrill has a million or two. He has lately returned from Europe where he accompanied his Bister to the Huntingdon Hatzfeldt wedding. Miss Sherrill was bridemaid. T. Jefferson Coolidge, of Ohio, has apart ments at the Shoreham for the winter and is one of the greatest catches in the matri monial market He belongs to the old Eos ton family, has wealth and drives the most fetching tandem in the city. I have given all the eligibles. Is it any wonder the chaperones of beauty and riches are in despair. Miss GRUNDr, Jr. A HUNGRY CUE'S KEYEKGB. Being Refused a Meal She Attacks Her Sister's Whelps. A Eotherdam correspondent of the Lon- Bawyer. don Field relates the following instance of canine retribution which came nnder his notice a few days ago: Two shepherds on the North Derbyshire moors, living in adjoin ing cottages far removed from any other dwelling, had each a dog of the cur breed that were sisters. One of these gave birth a few weeks ago to a litter of five whelps, and all seemed to go well with them until the 28th of last month. On that day, in the early morning, the mother of the pups was in the yard eat ing her breakfast, when the sister appeared on the scene. An attempt was made by the intruder to share the meal. This was re sented by a snarl and a growl, which failed to drive off the hungry sister, and again she essayed to appease her appetite, when she was fiercely attacked and severely mauled, and went limping away howling with pain. About an hour after this incident, the owner of the cur with a family went on his round of inspection, taking his dog along with him. Their departure would appear to have been noticed by the vanquished sister, for about an hour afterward she stealthily made her way to the stable wherein were the whelps before named, and worried them all. Having accomplished this terrible revenge, she proceeded to carry her victims to a place of concealment, but was caught in the act by one of the shepherd's children. SHE HAD BEEN TO CH0ECH. fler Husband W01 Proud of It and Tried to Display Her. Lewiiton Jonrnal.l I have a friend who doesn't go to church himself, but sends his wife regularly. I dined with him last Sunday, and he took advantage of the circumstances to display her devotional tendencies before company. "What was the text, Sne?" he asked. "Oh, something somewhere in generations; I've forgotten the chapter and verse. Mrs. Hughes sat right in front ot me wearing the worst looking bonnet I ever saw on "a wo man's head." "How did you like the new minister?" "Ob, he's simply snberbl And Kate Sel win was there in a sealskin that never cost a cent less than $100." "Did he say anything about the new mis sion fund?" "No; and the Jones girls were rigged out in their old silks made over. You wonld have died laughing to have seen them." "It seems to me you didn't hear much of the sermon." "The fact is, George, the new minister has a lovely voice; it almost put me to sleep." A long silence followed, during which George absently helped me to pickles and mustard, while his wife sat looking as de mure as a saint at a circus. Suddenly she exclaimed: 'There! I knew I'd forgot to tell you something! The fringe on Mrs. Brown's cape is an inch deeper than mine, and twice as heavy!" My friend changed the conversation to ihe last new novel. HEALTH AMD BEAUTY Both Threatened by the Modern Neglect of Sanitation. LA GEIPPE IS ONLY A WARNING. Shirlej Dare's Plea on Behalf of the Women of America. THE MANX ABODES OP PESTILENCE. rWKITOW FOE THE BISFATCII.I In the name of the women of America I appeal to our rulers and those who ought to be our protectors. Our health, our lives and all that makes life worth living is en dangered, wasted by criminal carelessness. For two weeks a pest has seized the coun try, flying from far, people say, who know nothing at all about the subject. Not less than one-third the population of our large cities have been taken by this terror, which the French, with their talent for epithet, rightly call la grippe, because it throttles the victim at a spring. Taking tbe case from known facts, this week's nselessness has cost not less than $25 a head for the hundred thousand smitten by the epidemic, in loss of business, time and wages, count ing from bank presidents to street laborers. This does not estimate the less of strength, the lowered vitality, the shortening of days, for nature loses no accounts and all short ages are found charged with relentless ac curacy at the closing up of life. To say that every epidemic involving a third of the pop ulation costs $10 a head is a moderate esti mate, and by this the' hotel bills, for La Grippe in her short visit to Philadelphia, for instance, will have to be paid by the municipality in a round million of dollars. FBOM A FINANCIAL STANDPOINT. Preventable ill-health is the most oppres sive extravagance a city can inflict upon itself. It reduces her able-bodied men, it dampens the talents of its keen business minas, it erases the beauty of its women and blights the brains of its children. This, worse than the poisoning of the Borgias, will sow the seeds ot death in many a brave young breast, which apparently recovers, only to find its power of resistance weak ened beyond repair. Will no one see and feel and make effort that these visitations be blotted from the face of the world ? "What are you talking about?" one says. "This epidemic was dne to climatic condi tions, a wet year, high temperature, a dan gerous state of the atmosphere. It could not be helped. It was the visitation of heaven which we could not escape." Is it unavoidable when a man in a thun der storm leans against telegraph wires and meets his death by a bolt of lightning? Is it the decree of heaven when children play ing with matches among open powder bar rels blow up a building? It is the will of heaven, of any sane deity, that foolhardy risk and constant careless ness shall receive signal penalty, not that men shall die without cause. Will you hear some condensed facts from the sound est, mtjst learned and experienced men in this country, worth any score of the profes sion that can be mentioned for strong sense and interest in hnmanity Dr. Bowditch, of Boston, and Dr. John Bell, of Philadel phia. DANGER FROM USED-UP MATTER. Each human being and animal throws off daily from one to tbree pounds of used-up matter, noxious to life in any shape and growing still more virulent with each hour of ferment. This does not fly np into the clouds, but is ground into the street dnst or washed into the sewers. The organic matter of the breath forms a glutinous deposit on closed rooms, decomposing rapidly and giv ing the offensive odor known to persons of any delicacy of sense. The rankest poison of the breath, however, is a gas whose fumes in volume little more than that which charges our close bedrooms will kill a dog in three miuntes, a poison of which you who scoff at its effect will probably die in time. Air fould with our own breath is the great cause of tubercles in the lungs, of ansmiannd blood poison of various degrees. Still', thanks to the porous nature of all buildings, we could hardlv keep fresh air out of our bouses, if we did not earnestly cultivate an inferno of noxious vapors below our houses, 6 per cent of all the gas maoe leaking into the soil, forming a choke damp, and sewage distilling its three or four corrosives, any one of which slays like Sennacherib's angel. GASES OF SEWER EMANATIONS. Dr. Bowditch, of Boston, says in his pow erful argument for sanitation, the chief gases in sewer emanations are carbonic acid gas, whose fatal effects we all know, sul phuretted hydrogen, which gives the strong smell of drains before a storm, and is a pow ertul narcotic poison, which in concentra tion kills as suddenly as prussic acid. It kills strong men cutting river tunnels, when hardly to be recognized by the odor, or by tbe test of lead piper, not more than. 100,. 000th part being present in the air. The third poison is sulphide of ammonia, the pleasant gas reeking from livery stables in cities, which generates diphtheria, and pros trates the neighboring houses with malarious symptoms, referred vaguely to some un known depravity of town air, but really manufactured by tbe decomposing heaps next door. Drs. Barker and Letheby, of London, who analyzed sewer gas with a thoroughness never excelled, report that this ammonia produces asphyxia, liquefies the corpuscles of the blood, and produces symptoms of typhoid. Worse is its dreadful property of conveying the less volatile products of putrefac tion into the air, giving validity to the putridities of streets and rivers during hot weather, holding in suspension the of fensive matters of coal gas. The light carbo-hydrogen found in sewers is what accumulates and explodes, blowing the covers off manholes every once in a while. The organic vapor in sewer gas propagates its own decay, with terrible consequences in the living body, and symptoms of most active poisons. THE PLAGUE OF THE DARK AGES. Now mark these symptoms with care. The appetite fails, the bowels are disturbed, chronic diarrhoea sets in, distress, suffocation and nausea, giddiness and twitching. Ex cessive prostration follows, until the sufferer is worn out by exhaustion or falls into low fever. What difference is there between these symptoms and those of la grippe? It is a complete diagnosis of the disease which in the last fortnight has prostrated thousands all over the country, from one and the same reasons in town or out of it, blood poisoning by neglect of proper drain age and disposal of animal waste. The hu midity of the atmosphere, the wave of vitiated air imagined to roll across the 2,000 leagues of ocean between us and Europe could never prpdnce disease, were not the conditions of deadly epidemic cultivated by our civilization. A small percentage of dry ness in the air and our winter frosts are all that continually stand between us and pes tilence, which is but a modern form ot the plague of the Dark Ages. The prostration, the purging, the giddiness, the treachery of the disease too nearly resembles the plagne to be mistaken for anything but its lineal descendant. For too many poor sonls it might as well be tbe plague outright, for disease can do no more than kill. The differ ence between our sanitary habits and those of the Dark Ages is that they kept their sewage above ground at the doors of their houses, and we bury it under the floors. OUB COSTLY SEWER SYSTEMS. It is not our costly sewers which prevent worse plagues than ever decimated Europe, bnt our pavements, which partially seal the gases of death Irom escaping into the air we breathe. The dark, close sewers condense deadlier gases than offal heaps oxydized by sun and air. These are not my words at all, but what able scientific men, sanitary en gineers and doctors have been trying for 60 years to teach the world, and which la grippe comes as avant courier to proclaim before cholera and plague come as destroy ing angels to enforce. The world will not learn, though one rise from the dead to teach; it must go down to death itself before it will believe. The truth must be told and insisted upon. The conditions of onr sani tary matters in town and country alike are simply heathenish. One ot the three oldest and wealthiest cities in the Union has a mass of public buildings unfinished, al ready costing $12,000,000, while the sewage in its business streets runs through open gutters and kennels, filling the air with sickening odors and its homes with low fevers. Those who have died needlessly from this indecent drainage should be buried at the foot of this costly monument of civic incapacity, the tower whose cost applied to public health would have saved thousands of lives yet to be lost. MORE VIRULENT YEAR BY YEAR. The filth of cities, the ignorant sanitary customs of country places where the per fume of roses and apple orchards cannot hide the smells of death from unsafe drains are so many crimes against humanity which must meet a fearlul penalty. The types of disease become more virulent year by year as the sites of human habitation saturate the soil with Surface water, gas and sewage. That must overtake our civilization which caused the destruction of the old cities of India and the great towns of antiquity, like Sardis, Laodicea and Nineveb, which Sir Henry Acland, M. D., says from his travels in Asia Minor, came to an end because it was impossible longer to inhabit those filthy and fever-stricken places; that the soil by long residence was so deteriorated that, as towns could not move, theyceased to be habitable. Nor is this all. Not one house in a hun dred has its supply of pure air direct from outdoors, but is content to breathe air of the cellar drawn throngh the furnace, bringing smells unendurable to senses used to better things. In the streets we are compelled to breathe dangerous dust, loaded with every foulness, or inhale the fumes of putrefying garbage. Public conveyances are vehicles of contagion in the breath of their inmates. W. It. Nichols, of Boston, found more than twice as much deadly carbonic acid in the air of passenger cars than in the Berkeley street sewer. PIPES LEADING FEOM HOUSES. As Prof. Kerr vigorously said before the Eoyal Institute of Architects, "A honse in this climate is a closed box from which the cleansing air is apt to beexcluded. Besides its own vitiated air the house is in commu nication with an underground world of sew ers in which the gases of decomposition are constantly generated, and all pipes from the honse to this uncleanness are pipes to the house therefrom, the sewer air forcing its way in with still greater energy than the cleansing atmospheric air. We will not speak yet the dreaded names of cholera and yellow fever, but typhoid is sure to follow upon the prostrations of this winter, and will cost the country millions more before the year is out, nnless searching reforms in sanitary matters are made matters of first moment. Alter the ten commandments, the first thing taught by Moses was sanitary law, which should be the great ruling interest with priests and politicians, teachers and society, till it is comprehended and ful filled." A FOE IS AT OUR DOORS. All our schemes of education, wealth and pleasure go halt for want of health. If we do not suspend them long enough to learn this great lesson, pestilence will suspend them for us and force us to learn. There should be no question of means when the alternative is our lives and those ot our children. A foe is at the doors worse than English ironclads or Spanish pri vateers. Government sanitary bonds should be as good investments as any 3 per cents in the markets, if the work cannot be better done. Men, fathers, brothers of America, we women appeal to you for protection against the foe which walks in darkness. Upon our pleasant things falls the shadow of the wing of a destroying angel. Shall it depart from onr coast be ore it has taken the youth, the health, the loveliness ont of our homes? Shirley Dare. BOSSES BI TDBNS. General Jubal Early and HI Faltblnl Old Body Servant. "One of the greatest instances of devotion that I ever saw," said an old Virginian to The Man About Town of the St, Louis Re public, "outside of that of a dog for his master, is that shown by 'Early's Joe.' Joe is an old negro about 70 years of age, who was born a slave in General Jnbal Early's family, brought up with 'Jube,' became his body servant, served all through the war with him, as wp.tchful of his master as a mother of her babe. After the war Joe was informed that he was free. Tsefree?' said Joe, with a look of contempt, 'I'se not free. I belong to Mas' Jube till I dies.' Early is very fond of his servant, and has told every shopkeeper in Lynchburg to let Joe have anything ne wants, and send the bill to him. Joe iollows his master around on certain occasions like a dog. When Early lets the mountain dew of old Vir gmnv get tbe better of him, Joe will say: "Mass' Jube, you mus' come home." "Why, who are you talking to? Who's boss, anyway?" "Well, Mass' Jnbe, when vou's sober you's boss, bnt when you's drunk I'se bos." , "Well, Joe.you're right. When I'm drnnk you're boss." And Early will resign himself to the faithful old darkey's care. BEETHOVEN'S LAST PIANO. It Is to be Placed at tbe Birthplace of the Composer. Fall Stall Budget. The "Beethoven's House Society," Bonn, has recently acquired Beethoven's last piauo. It was made by the court piano maker, Konrad Graff, who died at Vienna in 1831. He went to that city in the beginning of this century, and soon gained a reputation by the excellence of his pianos. The instru ment in question was expressly ordered from him by Beethoven. In consideration of his deafness, it was made with four strings to each key, instead of the usual three. Ow ing to the strength of its tones, Beethoven used it almost exclusively in the last years of his life. After his death it passed into the hands of a bookseller, Franz Wimmer, of Vienna; and, after the marriage of his daughter to a Swiss clergyman named Widmann, it be came the property of the Widmann family in Berne. Its genuineness is proved by documents, and confirmed by tbe authority of Johannes Brahms. It is now to b'e placed in the house in which the great com poser was born at Bonn. What One Man Will Eat. A railroad train of 16 cars would be re quired to convey the food and nourishment which a man blessed with a moderate appe tite consumes from the time of his birth to the day when lie attains the age of three score years and ten. Such, at least, is the calculation which has just been made public by Dr. Kuhnenian, one o! tbe principal pro fessors of the University of Berlin. ' The Alphabet la One Verne. The twenty-first verse of the seventh chap ter of Ezra contains every letterof the alpha bet, and is the only one thus distinguished: "And J, even I, Artaxerxes, the king, do make a decree to all the treasurers which are beyond the river, that whatsoever Ezra, the priest, the scribe of the law of the God of heaven, shall require of you, is to be done speedily." ROSES FOR WINTER. Florida's Flowery Fields Will Soon Supply Our Markets. THE BIRTH OF A NEW INDUSTRY. Untouched Gold Mines in the Peninsula's Blushing Soil N0BTHEBN H0NEI SPENT IN FL0WEES ICOKRXSFONDEXCZ OT THI DISPATCH. 3 KISSIMMEE, Fla., January 24. Florida roses in Yankee markets I Think of It, ye bland florists of our Northern cities The scheme of cer tain Eastern capi talists to raise flowers in Florida for Northern cities is agitating land agents in the Peninsula, thrilling the sonls of Yankee belles and striking terror to the hearts of Jersey and Long Island florists. The idea is poetical, aesthetic and flavors much of the flower markets of Paris and New Orleans. The enterprise is as yet in its infancy, but with the "grit, grip and gumption" that Florida possesses, the rais ing of cut flowers will soon be a paying in dustry here, and revolutionize the flower business, just as the Florida orange has revolutionized the orange industry. Then will smiling maidens and blooming matrons langh in the faces of Northern florists, while they luxuriate in cheap,sweet, fresh,Florida roses. Northern florists fear the usurpation of their rights, as is proven by their tonchiness upon the Bubject, and well may they grow green with envy. The most influential of Florida nurserymen declare there are millions in the scheme, and say, "Give us 50 cents per hundred for onr finest roses delivered at the gardens, and we ask no surer road to fortune." With the same trained and workmanlike preparation of the flowers for the market, as displayed by Northern growers, the venture must prove a success, and Florida become an American Biviera. Already the idea is growing, and gardeners ship to the leading hotels of the State, and in limited quantities to New York and Chicago markets. It is estimated that there are $10,000,000 invested in lands, structures and stock in floral establishments within a radius of ten miles from New York, and when one city makes such demand for horti culture, the importance of this industry can well be seen THE UNITED STATES AHEAD. The cut flower business is greater in the United States than in any other part of tbe world, New York itself paying $1,000,000 annually for cut flowers, one-third of which is for rose buds. The cost of forcing these roses in the winter season is great, and the prices paid for the forced buds perfectly as tounding. Eastern florists control the mar kets. A few dayB since a 60 per cent raise caused a howl among buyers in Western cities that would have awakened the seven sleepers. During the winter months the prices range with the demand. One grower of New Jersey a few days ago took in 300 buds of a favorite jose and received whole sale $300. Florida is the paradise of Queen Rosa's court. Eoses, such roses Marechal Neil, Bennitt, La France and the queen of all, the American Beauty, bloom constantly and profusely, growing luxuriantly on almost any soil and at any point If enough could oe saia mere nas Deen sumcient praise be stowed upon the peerless flower of the earth. The rosarian of the nineteenth century is progressive, and the American people ready to accept new inventions. Each season some new beauty, like the debutante, has its glory. Last year the new Oakmont was in troduced, James Conley, its raiser, having spent five years in perfecting it. Im provement is good, but let the old roses keep their places of honor. From the stars upon the horizon, what roses could rival the Marechal Neil, jacqueminot, La France? They are the armor-bearers of Flora's field. The Marechal Neil blooming shyly at the North, can be seen in Florida covering a long veranda loaded with deep colored buds. From a single rose, daily from 100 to 300 buds are picked. The Mare chal Neil, to reach perfection,mnst be budded on another stock the Cherokee being the favorite. Whatever other roses may be left on hand, the Marechal Nell never is. THE MATCHLESS FLOWER. "The rose that all are praising is not the rose for me," but when it is the perfection of floral realities the matchless Marechal Neil to belong to its worshipers becomes an honor. Imagination may flatter herself she can form a more perfect flower, but she has never done so. This rose has been a mine of wealth to nurserymen ever since its intro duction, and when experienced horticultur ists throughout Florida only ask CO cents per 100 for buds,- we can readily see there is money for the gardner for the railroad, the commissioner, still leaving a nice little margin to be summed up to profit and loss. The business promises quick returns and sure profits. Small gardeners will sell direct to the syndicate if they make a success, until shipping facilities are nearer perfec tion. This new Florida industry will put the radiant bloom of the rarest flowers within easy reach of every Northern ballroom, par lor and dinner table, and our Northern cities will revel in "cheap flowers,'' just as Parisians do now, and if the industry does not become a monopoly, these same "cheap flowers" in Northern markets will add one more tribute to American culture, and no longer will Northern florists cater to the taste of sestheticism at the rate of SI, $2 or $3 per rose, daring the wintry months. Neither will they decorate for ballrooms or wedding festivities at the exorbitant rates now charged, for in the rich hammocks of Florida grow rarest exotics, exquisite feathery grasses, palms, magnolias, sweet-scented jessamine that would fairly paralyze a professional florist from the blizzard-smitten North with astonishment. Here, Northern hothouse plants grow and bloom in rugged health in the open ground throughout the whole winter innocent of special care or protec tion. The scheme cannot fail. Florida can produce the flowers, and with the beauty, fragrance and aroma of tropical romance, Yankeedom will buy them. THE MANUFACTURE OF PERFUMERY. Another new industry agitating Flori dians is the raising flowers for the manufac ture of perfumery. It is known that the attar of roses can be as successfully made in Florida as in the gardens of Bulgaria. The special condition of soil and climate for the musk and damask rose is met with only in a few tracts of land in the world. In parts of Florida these varieties flourish abundantly, and nurserymen claim that one acre, properly managed, will yield $2,500 per annum. The jasmine, sweet violet and jonquil are also used for distillation or absorption. Last season at the Vanderbilt ball the floral decorations cost $3,000. Mrs. Will iam Astor, the same season, expended $1,000 on a single evening decoration. It growing flowers in Florida for Northern markets will not make a paying industry what will? Before another year the flower markets, flower farms and Marechal Neil plantations will agitate capitalists, while my lady fair in the North and in the South will alike wear roses from the same bush. LORNA DOONE. v32Y .aabt , --v hzsScfiiJ Hi S M YS i I'zpsT 183 Ft UitAPI'EB V. THE VISIT OP THE NAZAEENE. Lazarus walked home like a man blinded by light. His head swam giddily. The blood leaped in his veins. The stately form of the temple shook before him as he passed. The familiar outline of Mt. Olivet quivered against his eyeballs. The figures of people in the road wavered and enlarged, and dwindled like phantasmagoria seen in mist. He felt as if he moved above them, on a strange high level, and saw tbe world over their heads. He seemed to himself like a spirit escaped from the body, and set free to wander at will. He fled, he floated, he drifted across the current of common life. He knew not whither he would go, nor wherefore; he only knew that he flut tered upon a sea .of delight and despair. He only knew that he was alive as a bird, or a wind, or a strong tree, or some bright brute thing that has peither conscience, nor intellect, nor foresight; only the sense of living and the joy of it. The only fact he had ever dreamed ot that could separate soul and body in like manner and give a man his ntter freedom, was the fact of death. Now here was another, unknown to his grave speculation, a thing till then as unfathomed by the calm and thoughtful Jew, as the basin of the Pacific Ocean here was the fact of love. To Lazarus, the busy mechanic, the sober householder, the steadiest of citizens, the most religious of deuotees, the purest of men, the serevest of spirits unto Lazarus, had occurred tbe experience which shuts it self as an unsealed book from most human souls, albeit they are wrought of the molten fiber of passionate impulse as unknown to him as the fire of Moloch Lazarus had been J overtaken by that rare and mighty angel: Instantaneous love. Now this eodly young Jew knew no more what to do with this state of things than if he bad been cast handcuffed and blind folded into the lake of Galilee in a mid night tempest and deserted there. At first he was only conscious of the fact of sinking and of the necessity of the fact. Then he became aware of the struggle and struct out, "It is a dream," he muttered, "I forget it. I awake. It passeth. I do dream." He drew his firm hand over his eyes con fusedly; it was as if he would brush her image away. Nay, then I She was no such film. Flesh and blood will not melt at a sign ot dismissal. Shall a man wave a woman out of being by a gesture? She standeth tall and haughty, queenly, a form of power and a face ot flashing light She defieth his signal. She will not be dis missed. Seel how she holds her ground, mockinelr. merrily no apparition she. This is no dreamgodly Lazarus. Warm as the bounding blood in tbe veins of a soft strong woman the vision claspeth thee. Lazarus as he walked staggered under the pressure of it. It seemed to him as if that sweet, prond creature had entered his verv being; as if her life-melted into his; as if the drawing of his breath hung upon her curved lips. "Zaharal" he murmured, "Zaharal" When he spoke her name aloud it seemed to him as if he began to possess her. He threw back his head and trod proudly. He walked in a sweet delirium. One ot his workmen followed htm and asked him some pressing question about the work at the palace. "What did you say?" asked Lazarus con fusedly. Tbe man rereated his inquiry; his master replied with a few irrelevant, hurry ing words, and hastened on; he felt a des perate need of being alone. He got home into his own apartments quickly as be might Martha buzzed about some disturbing trifle, but he said: "I pray thee, my sister, leave the mat ter alone. I am weary and would be at peace." "It is important," persisted Martha; "I must talk to somebody." "Converse with Mary, then," said her brother wearily. "One might as well talk to the evening star," cried Martha. "I will listen, then," said Lazarus a little smitten at the conscience, for he was a good brother, and not a man to disregard a woman's chatter. "Nay, thenl" answered Martha resent fully, "I have naught to say to yon." Lazarns passed on into his chamber; and shut the doors. He looked abont the famil iar place perplexedly. He felt that a new person crossed the threshold; the man, Lazarns, whem he knew had passed it for the last time. He did not recognize him self. He was not used to dreams, and to strange views of common facts. He had lived a plain, busy, pious life. Nothing like this had ever come within his knowl edge. His quiet natnre was now a tempest All bis standard and codes were capsized like little shallops in a sudden sea. In a moment, in the twinkling of a soft eye, a woman had entered his calm world, and all the kingdoms of his natnre and the glory of tnem were Deneatn ner ieet He wished that he could have laid his reverent lips to them those veiled feet. This eminently discreet young man did indeed cherish that desperate daring desire. How gently her garments flowed about them! as a modest maiden's should concealing them in long, soft folds; as if she trod upon morning clouds. Her drapery, veil beneath veil, en closed her jealously. It was a kind of haughtiness in her, it was a kind of higher modesty, not to draw the veil across her face at first glance of him her father's work man. Lazarus recalled this with half a de light and half a stinging shame. His first thought was: "She is not as other women. She doeth her own will. She is a princess." His second: "She is the daughter of Annas. And I am Lazarns, builder to the High Priest, her father." What was he verily, in her sight, that he should dare lift up so much as his thought unto Zahara? It was dark in his sumptuous rooms. The prosperous man paced them like a beggar. In an hour he felt pauperized. He had al ways been so sure of his standing in the world; his possessions and his skill had meant credit and content; he had been honored; he had felt that his preference wonld be regarded by the women whom he knew; it had never occurred to the rich builder and prominent ecclesiastic that a woman could become to him an unattainable fact in life. His large mild eyes flashed in the dark rooms. "I am defied!" he said aloud, "X am de nied!" What wonld Annas tbe High Priest, Annas member of the Sanhedxin, Annas WRITTEN FOB THE DISPATCH BY ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS, Author of "Gates Ajar," "Beyond the Gates," Etojf AND THE REV. HERBERT D.WARD. Continued Prom Last Sundat.l the Sadducee, with Lazarns his builder, tha Pharisee, if he so much as took the proud name of Zahara upon his lips? Truly as a slave is hurled from his master's presence, so wonld the father of Zahara deal with the man whose veriest shadow should fall across barriers dearer to Jewish convention than life itself. Annas was the aristocrat of society and of theology; Lazarns, the bour geois and dissenter. Nay, the very wealth, position, influence of the builder were likely to be sources of offense to the patri cian. Better were it for Lazarus if he came like a beggar, with "help bnt God" (as his name did read), and sat npon the palace stairs, tbe High Priest wonld have regarded him as a properly classified person who knew his place and kept it, flung him a handful of coin, and observed him no mora than the ass that brought the packs of provender at tbe bidding of tbe slaves. Who knew? A man might snatch the girl at such a vantage and away with her. Lazarns checked his feverish walk, threw himself upon a rug, and in the prostrate po sition dear to Oriental emotion hid his faca and battled with himself. Lazarns was con founded at his owu condition. Within him self he found a foreign enemy; he felt him self unlearned in the tactics ot a ctranga war. He was not ready to yield, but ha knew not how to fight He" did not even give the name or Love to his swift and over whelming passion. He called it "Zahara, and studied it no more. "I shall see her to-morrow," he thought; then be remembered that he might never sea her any morrow. "But I shalll" he cried: "But I will!" Then he bethought flim that shall and will were helpless slaves in the hopeless sit uation. He was accustomed to doing as he chose. He had not been thwarted before. He had had his way. He now began to un derstand that he had never really worked for anything until this hour. Human de sire, a wild creature unchained, sprang npon him; he felt like a person wrestling with claws and teeth. At intervals he repeated her name aloud! "Zahara! Zaharal" The very sound of it seemed to him to scintillate. What a gorgeous name! "Zahara, the Bright One. Zahara, tha Shining:. I worship thee, here in my dark room, Zahara," whispered Lazarus. As he lay there prostrate with his faca upon his arms, a light and timid sound aroused him. it was the voice of Mary, hia sister, in the court bevond his doors. "Art thou ill, my brother?" "Nay, then, my sister, I am well." "Comest thou not forth that I may sneak with thee?" "Is it a matter of import?" demanded Lazarus. "It can wait,"said Mary gently. "I would not intrude upon thee." "Thou hast not the soul of the intruder,'? replied Lazirus with the hearty voice of one coming cordially from the reveries of passion to the realities of home. Mary could do as she would with Lazarus. He aroused himself and came outside the court; Mary was alone; it was late, cool evening; tha brother and sister sat down upon the near est rug, and settled themselves comfortably, Mary looked at Lazarns, but not keenly; her eyes were gentle and sweet He met their gaze with a strange sense of irresponsi ble gnilt He thought "Mary would nok understand. Mary could not understand." "I have somewhat to say unto thee," be gan Mary, timidly, "Martha would hava spoken of the matter, but thou repelledst her." "Martha annoyed me," said Lazarns shortly. "Thou never dost that." "He hath been here," said Mary with nni wonted abruptness. "He? Here? Thou meanest " Whom conld I mean? We know but One," replied Mary gravely. "The Master" hath visited us." "In my absence?" "In thine absence. He remained with M until the twelfth hour; we pressed him te tany further, but he would not, though Martha made ready the upper chamber and said many words to him he departed. Ha remained not Lazarus was silent a moment. "If thoahadst been here," observed Maryi "I think he would have tarried." " "I am sorry," avowed Lazarus. "Why, of course!" cried Mary with mora than usual spirit It seemed to her as it there were a singular lack of animation in her brother's tone and manner. Did he ex hibit the scorching grief she expected, or only a tender regret? "Lazarus," she said, with something lika reproach, "Nearer and dearer to him than thyself he hath but one otber friend among all that name the name of his disciples, ana that thou knowest" "Thou speakest of John the fisherman, and thou speakest truly, Mary. The Mas ter loveth him." "And thee I And thee, likewise. Lazarus I His own lips have said it His own deed hath proved it It seems to me that thou speakest coldly of him." "God forbid 1" cried Lazarus, starting, "I have not wavered. It any may be loyal to him and his cause I am the man. My heart can never chill toward him." But as he spoke the words a feeling al most of terror came over Lazarus. With the sudden warming of this strong and splendid flame which that day within his nature had shot fire would other feeling cool by hot comparison? Was it possible that he, Lazarus, beloved of one on whom the hopes of the race were hanging, tenderly selected by that sweet and supreme nature to the affectionate attitude of intimate friend was it possible that Lazarus could forget tha Messiah of his people, the Jesus of his per. sonal royalty, for the glance of a girl's eye) but yesterday unknown ? "It grieveth me," said Lazarus, peni tently, "it grieveth me that I saw him not. How seemed he? What said he?" "Worn," answered Mary, sadly, "worn and pale; his countenance hath a trans parent look, and bis step betokens a great weariness. Verily, Lazarns, the sight went to my heart" "What said he?" pursued Lazarns, with increasing sympathy. "His words were few," replied Mary, In a tone of awe. "His words were few and precious." "Canst thou not recall them for me. ny sister?" J "Nay, my brother, it is as if I tried to re call the rnstling of the wings of cherubim, above the altar. I have a sense of sacred sound that bore my soul above my body; of words I fear I can tell thee but too few. It, ever seemeth to me an unbecoming thing to take his words upon one's lips unwarily." "Of what did he discourse, then? If thotj venturest not to quote his language, for which indeed I do commend thee, Mary, and better were it for him if every one of onr number had so wise a conscience. We. have tongues too many and too easy, Is on flock. I haye ayseU dmir4 his o
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers