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