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B97
THE FITTSBUIG DISPATCH.
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SECOND PART.
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PAGES9T0I67--
PITTSBTTKG.v ' SUNDAY, EEBRHABT . 2, 1890.
BEFORE THE PEOPLE
Something About the Candi
dates for City Offices.
Iffi. GOUBLErS PAEM LIFE.
Career of John B. Bailey as lawyer,
as Editor and as Judge,
HOREOW AKD DEMISTON SKETCBE
nrsxTTXx ros tbx dispatcb.j
ENRY L GOUE
LEY, the Eepubli
can nominee for
Mayor of Pittsburg,
has a familiar face.
He has been so
prominently identi
fied with ofncial,
political, education
al business, and
Masonic affairs in
the State ot Penn
sylvania, that "if
yon don't see his face one place yoa do the
other."
He was born at Thompsontown, Juniata
county, Pa., October 3, 1638. His father.
Joseph Gourley, was a farmer and died in
1843, leaving two sons and one daughter
aged respectively, 3, 5 and 1 years. Being
deprived of the support of her husband and
left without pecuniary means, the mother
decided soon after his death to remove with
her three children to Pittsburg At the
age of 6 years, therefore, young Henry was
placed under the care of a farmer in Pine
township. Allegheny county. Here he
worked until the age ot IS. In order to
secure means with which to get an educa
tion he contracted with neighboring iarmers
to cut wood at 40 cents per cord. In 15
days he had cut 50 cords, earning $20 in
gold. Then, in the next harvest season he
added $30 more to this. 'With this money
rv
ui
Henry X. Gourley.
he procured four months' tuition at Wither
spoon Academy, in Butler, Pa. Upon a
further reulenishing of his purse by the nse
of his muscles, he entered Duff's Commer
cial College at Pittsburg, and graduated
thereforxn in January, 1857.
"With his diploma under his arm, Mr.
Gourley applied at the grocery store of
Joseph Craig, in Allegheny City, for a posi
tion. He staid there at $8 per month and
boarding for tour months, when, with 525 in
his pockets, he started westward. The
panic of 1857 came on while he was away,
and he came back to Pittsburg almost
penniless.
TEACHING AND LEABittlfa.
From 1857 to 1861 Mr. Gourlev's time was
principally occupied inteachingand attend
ing school himself, the former occupying his
time in the winter, while in the summer he
attended Elder's Bidge Academy, where he
prepared himself for the senior class in col
lege. In the fall of 1861 he was elected to
the Pnncipalshipof Troy Hill (now Seventh
ward, Allegheny City) school, at a salaryof
rfiO a month. At the end of two years of this
'responsible labor he took a step forward in
ihis chosen line, and was elected to the
'Principalship of the Third ward (now
Grant) schools, Pittsburj, at a salary of
$1,100 per annum. In 1868 he opened a
'select school for boys and girls.
As late as 1875 he was Principal of the
Grant school again. But for five years pre
ceding that time and three years subse
Iquently he was extensively engaged in the
text book publishing houses of Scribner &
Co. and A. H. English & Co. By the fail
ateot the latter firm he lost nearly all his
savings. Mr. Gourley then commenced
preparing, publishing and selling school
cooks himself, with the assistance of such
eminent people as Milton B. Goffand J. X.
Hunt He is now in that business.
CAEEEE IX COUNCILS.
In 1876 he was elected to represent the
Seventh ward in Select Council lor a term of
two years. This position he held uninter-
Son. John JI. liailty.
ruptedly, having been re-elected five times
His popularity, and the high order of hi8
official services, can best be understood when
it is known that in three of these elections
he received the unanimous vote of the peo
ple or his ward, representing all political
parties. In 1879 Mr. Gourley was elected
President of Select Council, and for eight
years his course "was indorsed by a unani
mous re-election to that position each year.
But one of his decisions was overruled by
Council.
Mr. Gourley was married in 1867 to Miss
Jennie Brenneman, of Pittsburg. He is
highly cultured, has read much and studied
much, and even while deep in the cares of
business finds time to keep np with the cur
rent thought and literature of the day. He
is devoted to his pretty home, which stands
at the corner of Logan street and Wylie
avenue.
THE DEMOCEATIC SOSIHTEE.
Hon. John H. Bailey, who will be the
Democratic nominee for Mayor of Pittsburg,
is a native of this city. His father was one
of those pioneers from the north of Ireland
to whose influence in the building np of
"Western Pennsylvania's metropolis, the
present generation owes so much. He was
a merchant, and the earliest training of his
sou John was in that line. Bnt the boy
cyincea a taste ior the proiessionai side ot I
labor. The public schools could not satisfy j
1
7 'smm.
vi
mKJm
3de -- " ' . -
his searches for knowledge, so after digest
ing what they offered he went to college.
His education there was of the most finished
character.
Along about 1850 young John began to
read law in the office of Judge Charles
Shaler. He was a favorite of that eminent
jurist, and in both legal and political life
afterward he reflected many of the charac
teristics of his tutor. They were both Dem
ocrats. Perhaps thst is why very early in
his professional career Mr. Bailey took an
active interest in politics. He was admitted
to the bar, and although practice in the
courts was congenial to him, there presently
offered an opportunity for the employment
of both his scholarly tastes and his political
devotions. The Daily Union was for sale.
It was one of the old-time Pittsburg news
papers, and had been originally in the hands
of Collector of Port Hastings. While that
gentleman was trying to operate both news
paper and Government offices at the same
time, the vaults in the latter were robbedof
some $15,000. A tedious government in
vestigation which followed took most of
Hastings' time. The Daily Union ran
down, and finally Hastings had to let it go.
CAREER AS EDITOR.
John H. Bailey and Thomas J. Keenan,
Esq., purchased " the paper in 1857. They
conducted it as a staunch Democratic organ.
Mr. Bailey displayed an ability as an edi
tor that made him a somewhat formidable
foe with the pen. There was a condensed
style about his editorials which added pun
gent force to them. He bad a corps of po
litical contributors that attracted attention,
and he ran the best of what was written for
the Union by John Dunn, James H. Hop
kins and Alfred McCalmont Of course
this line made him doubly useful to his
party. From counsellor he rose to leader of
the ranks, and for ten years he was Chair
man of the Democratic County Committee.
This was during war times, and after hehad
returned to the practice of law. In those
days Democratic stock was away below par,
and it required a courageous soul to lead
such hopeless campaigns. Bnt Mr. Bailey
stuck to the cause of his fellow men. He
remained all through the McClellan strug
gle, and then for five different campaigns he
led the party's forlorn hopes by being a
candidate lor judge being a candidate
with no idea that a Democrat would be suc
cessful. Butinl877he was elected one of
the associate judges of the Common Pleas
Court, defeating the Republican candidate.
Judge Felterman. His commission, of
course, extended for ten years.
BOFULAB ON THE BENCH.
He was regarded by attorneys and both
political parties as one ot the ablest dispen
sers of criminal law on tho bench, becanse
of his terse rulings and charges, and his
objection to all irrelevant matters
during a trial. He was devoid of sentiment,
and usually maintained a judicial dignity,
cold yet re'spectlul. This led to prompt
ness and business-like methods in the courts
over which he presided.
Since Judge Bailey's retirement from the
bench, he has been quietly engaged in legal
practice. Being fond ot literature, he can
be found mnch of the time at his library.
He has entered more or less into social life.
Mrs. Bailey is a charming woman,- whose
history recalls the patriotic romances of
America. She is a descendant of the cele
brated Washington family, being the
daughter of Bushrod Washington, one of
the old-time residents of Pittsburg, whose
ancestors were the brothers of General
George Washington. Mr. and Mrs. Bailey
have a son, Beed Bailey, a prominent young
man of the city. The tamily is prominent
in Episcopal church circles. They reside at
the Central Hotel since the Monongahela
House was burned out.
CANDIDATE OF BOTH PASTIES.
Anything that can be written here about
Eustace S. Morrow, the candidate of both
parties, for re-election to the office of City
Controller, will not be new. But as history
is repeating itself in his present campaign,
so must the story of his career be retold as a
Eustace S. Morrow.
mere matter of political conventionality,
Not particularly have these facts been
stated often because he has often been a
candidate, but because the remarkably
clean record he has written, and because the
repeated acts of honesty ot purpose in the
dull routine of office, has called attention
to him and caused the public to ask: "Who
is this man?" and now they know his his
tory off by heart.
Away back in 1836 Bobert Morrow was
the able and esteemed editor of the Pitts
burg Mercury (now Post). Besides that he
was a student ot the law of the land, and so
well versed in its text and principles did he
become, that although never a member of
the bar, there were few lawyers in this
country who did not prize the advice and
assistance he gave them. His equal versa
tility with municipal affairs brought him
into places of trust and honor, and when he
died in 1862, he died in such an office that
of Clerk of Select Council.
ALMOST AN EDITOR.
Such a man was the father of the present
Controller. In almost exactly the same
footsteps has the son been following, except
that the path has ascended (and is ascend
ing) to higher points. True, the Controller
has never ocenpied an editorial chair, but
there is not a journalist in this city bnt who
will understand what a grand opportunity
Mr. Morrow has had to edit all the papers
in town through the devoted reporters who
sit around his desk every day. Many a
consultation on policy has there been held,
and the next morning often the mild-spoken
little man has been astonished to find that
with strange unanimity the pnblic press has
put in type his sposien editorial. Such
power is not held in the pent-up limits of a
single editorial chair.
Eustace was only 23 years old when his
father died, but Select Council elected him
to succeed his aged parent as its clerk. The
young man also took up the study of law,
pursuing it under the eye of George T.
Hamilton and John Barton, Esqs. He was
admitted to the Bar, but under pressing
solicitation of a friend he took charge of a
set of books, for what he supposed to be a
few weeks' time. But this business engage
ment lengthening, the war broke out, and
Mr. Morrow found himself presently ap
pointed Deputy Provost Marshal of Pitts
burg with J. Herron Foster.
FAMOUS AS 'SQUIRE.
At the close of the war he became a clerk
"' office of the Clerk of Courts, under
John G.Brown. "When Hon. "William C.
McCarthy was Mayor of Pittsburg he
selected Mr. Morrow as his deputy to pre
side at hearings in the Mayor's "office' at
Municipal Halt But long before this the
rising young man had had experience in
administrative offairs. He had been elected
Alderman of the Sixth ward in 1863, and
upon the expiration of that term he was re
elected. It wrs while serving this second
term as Alderman that he . mod.
lamons an over the county as " 'Sauire."
He kept a little office open in the Sixth
W ' vlk.
ward, but there was either no crime tip
there, or else Mr. Morrow did not under
stand the modern method of inducing quar
reling neighbors to enter cross suits, for the
Alderman had nothing to do but entertain
reporters of the daily papers when they came
out that wav hunting items. Those re
porters included Frank Case, the present
City Assessor. "Judge" "Ramsey, James M.
Purdy, John 2Teeb, Ed Locke, and a host of
others who have since become public
officials or newspaper proprietors.. The
newspaper friendship then begun has lasted
through two or three generations of re
porters, and rests on a basis of personal
worth far above any sordid object
THE WEST CITY CLEBK.
In 1872 Mr. Morrow was elected City
Clerk, a position which was new and which
he first organized. Up to that time munici
pal affairs had been managed clerically the
same as those of a provincial town. He held
the office lor several years. Since then he
has been City Controller, having been
elected three different times, the last time
being like the present campaign, the Dem
ocrats refusing to nominate anyone against
him. The office is a trying one, every year
questions arising in the bnancial affairs of
the city which the Controller has to look
squarely in the face with right on one side
and wrong on the other. How Mr. Morrow
has met them, is well known.
'Squire Morrow didn't want to be School
Director once, but the people of the Four
teenth ward elected him anyhow. He re
fused to go near the polls for work, aud this
tact encouraged the Democrats to hard work
for their candidate. Thomas B. Evans. But
Morrow was elected by a majority of a few
votes. Evans threatened to contest the
election.
"Go ahead, Tommy," said Mr. Morrow,
"if you think there was any improper vot
ing, and I myself will pay the expenses of
the contest."
So Evans had the Court appoint a com
mission to investigate. Morrow paid all
the expenses, and Evans succeeded in hav
ing five or six votes thrown out, thus seating
himself. So the 'Squire did not have to be
school director after all.
ME. MOBBOW AT HOME.
Mr. Morrow's home life is interesting
interesting from its very simplicity. TJn
until 1881 he resided in the old Tustin man
sion on Fifth avenue opposite Seueca street.
JIajor J. F. Denniston.
The building is a landmark, having been
built in 1800. His wife was Annie Beed,
daughter of Ralph Beed, and they were
married in 1863. She died in 1879. Since
then Mr. Morrow has devoted his home
hours to two children. The daughter, now
a young woman, is at college in Ohio. The
son is in the pnblic schools at home. Their
father sets them an example in liberality
and charity, for which he is well known.
He is a strict churchman, never missing his
Wednesday night prayer meeting, Bible
class or preaching. He was one of the or
ganizers of the Eighth TJ. P. Church in
Soho, and is still connected with it. He
has three times been a delegate from Pitts
burg to the General Assembly of that de
nomination, and only recently missed by
three votes being elected Moderator of the
Pittsburg Presbytery. He now resides in a
modest rented house on Oakland avenue.
A MILITARY HERO.
Major Joseph F Denniston, the Republi
can candidate for re-election to the City
Treasurer's office, as is well-known, is a
military hero as well as an able civil execu
tive. He lost a leg in the war, having been
all through the great conflict, not being
mustered out until nearly six years after the
fall of Sumter. He went out from Pitts
burg with the Eriend Rifles, and was grad
ually promoted from private to captain, and
commissary of subsistence, and eventually
breveted major for gallant services. It
would take much space here to relate all the
story of Mr. Denniston's hard fisbtincr in
Virginia. He has always been foremost in
G. A. R. matters and is now a candidate for
Department Commander in Pennsylvania.
In civil life Comrade Denniston has
equally made his mark, having been hon
ored by his fellow citizens with many posi
tions of trust and responsibility, first as
Treasurer of Allegheny county for four
years, and for the past nine years as Treas
urer of this city twice re-elected to the
position by the indorsement of both political
parties.
THE MAJOR'S BUSINESS INTEBESTS.
For 20 years he has served as a director of
one of our large banking institutions, and
for seven years has been called to act as the
representative of the soldier interest on the
Board of Managers of the West Penn Hos
pital, a position he has filled with benefit to
comrades in distress. The fact that he has
to furnish the largest bond in City Hall
does not bother Major Denniston. This
bond is for $150,000. Yet he himself is not
a wealthy man. He was unsuccessful in
several business ventures, both before and
after the war. He lives in his own house
on Denniston avenue, East End, on a part
of bis father's old estate. The street was
named after his father.
Mrs. Denniston is a lady whose acquaint
ance is sought in the East End. The Major
married her seven years ago, and brought
her from Hagerstown, Md., where her par
ents had been Unionists during the war. It
is said that in profile she bears a remark
ably true resemblance to Maggie Mitcnell,
the actress. L, E, S.
FIEE-PK00P HOUSES.
A Method Used by Wealthy Japanese A
Kara Described.
Detroit Free Press.!
The combustible nature of Japanese
houses renders large fires a frequent and dis
astrous calamity; hence since a long time
ago the more wealthy Japanese merchants,
as well as farmers, have been in the habit of
building a kura or fireproof mud house con
tiguous to their shops and dwellings, yet
generally entirely isolated. Into these are
hurried at the first alarm which indicates a
fire approaching the premises the portable
property, household stuffs, merchandise,
etc., and the kura is then closed, and if time
permits, the joints of windows and doors 'are
sealed with fresh mud. A fire passing
around and over such a structure will leave
its contents unharmed.
It is jb. very common thing to see in Toko
hams, in the streets of the native town,
many of these kura built with much atten
tion to architectural effect They resemble
very closely gigantio fireproof safes which
may be one.two and even three stories high.
The kura is built of a light framework of
wood, between the openings of which is se
curely lastenea open wicker work ot bam
boo. Then the whole wall. surface inside
nnd out is solidly filled with stiff plastic
mud taken from the bottom of the livers,
and when thoroughly dried is smoothly
covered with stucco often treated .ornamentally.
THE PROPER DINNER.
Expressions From tho Best Enter
tainers of the Capital City.
EXTRAVAGANCE OF LATTER DAYS.
Strawberries at 25 Cents Each, Plates of
Gold, Napkins of Lace.
NUMBER OF GUESTS AND THE HUE
tCOKEISrONDKNCE OT THE PXSFATCH.l
"Washington, February 1.
AEBELS of terrapin
at 25 per dozen; crates
of canvass back ducks
at $6 per pair; thou
sands of ices at (1 per
plate; these are some
of the extravagances
that are slipping down
some of the throats
of the Capital's visiting population
this season. Then the flowers. Who can
compute the gold that has gone up in the
odor of orchids at $1 apiece, roses at $10 per
dozen, white lilacs at 50 cents per spike and
lilies of the valley at 10 cents a stem. On
the altar of New Year week $10,000 worth
of blossoms were sacrificed, for during that
time Eoswell P. Flower put $5,000 into the
flowers of his only daughter's wedding.
The fruits we use are also costing gold
galore. Twice in the social history of the
Capital opulent hosts have floated strawber
ries in their white wines when it cost 25
cents apiece to bring each berry from Cali
fornia to Washington. Ex-Senator Palmer,
our present Minister to Spain, treated his
guests to such a luxury last year, and this
winter these 25-cent strawberries rolled over
the palates and through the larynxes of
Senator Stanford's guests when he dined
Mrs General Grant. From all accounts
that dinner of Senator Stanford's to Mrs.
Grant was one to make your eyes bulge out
and your mouth to water. There were only
18 guests and they ate from plates of gold
and silver. The "queen of plenty" had
scattered roses all over the table and under
each bit of crystal there was a napkin of
point duchess lace while the long table
cover had a border of the same priceless web.
Instead of linen the finger bowls rested on J
uapery oi iace ana roe loraiy terrapin was
served in individual silver tureens. Every
piece was of the same costly nature and the
epicures of the Capital describe the dinner
as a gastronomic poem.
A CHINESE MINISTEB'S FEAST.
The last Chinese Minister gave a dinner
before he retired, at a cost of $28 per cover,
and the wines used-atthis feast are not in
cluded iu this estimate. His bill of fare in
cluded sharks' fins and birds nests. The
two best dinners of the present season have
been the state dinners of the Executive Man
sion and those given by Vice President
Morton. Both series have necessitated a re
form in the number of courses. The time of
sitting at the table has been cut down, and
the first state dinner at the White House
this year consumed only an hour and three
quarters, and at Vice President Morton's
the guests were at the table only an hour
and a half. Secretary Blaine and Mrs.
"Zach" Chandler pronounce President Har
rison's first state dinner one of the best they
have ever sat down to. and thii shnrfonimr
Jt ORuUnnerlhonrs prosuaes44e-a-suceesv
The cost 01 state dinners makes one of the
serions inroads on the President's salary.
Most governments feed their Presidents and
pay their society bills. Uncle Sam gives
him a house and he finds himself. Custom
makes him give at least four State dinners
every year, and inasmuch as each one of
these costs him at least $1,000, it will be
seen that the sum totalis worthy of consid
eration. Demonet, who has for the past 30
years, been caterer lor the White House,
tells me that Presidental viands are going
up. He says he served ices to President
Buchanan at $3 per dozen, and was glad to
get the money. Now he charges $1 a plate
and does not think this at all too high.
MBS. PBESIDENT HARBISON.
Mrs. Benjamin Harrison enjoys a dinner
party more than any other entertainment,
and next to a dinner she is fond ot a
luncheon. She mattes an admirable hostess
for both and she intended to give many
little affairs of both kinds had not her pro
gramme been changed by the deaths in the
administration circle. She will say nothing
of the cost or extravagance of Washington
dinners, but only states that she thinks they
are a very pleasant Yeature of the Capital,
or as her daughter, Mrs. McKee puts it: "I
begin to think I am growing old for I enjoy
a dinner so much more than a dance, and it
uscu iv uc mat never mougut or the
dining room when I was out in the evening. "
Mrs. Morton has made a number of inno
vations in table appointments and menus.
She will not have an atom of colored em
broidery or lace in her linen. She uses
very few flowers and many fern fronds,
does away with buttoniers and uses bombs
instead of individual ices. A dainty con
ceit with her is to scatter a few violets and a
bit of lemon verbena upon tbe water of the
finger bowls. She has a most elegant table
service of silver. Her dinners would de
light Brillat Bavarin. What they cost no
one knows, but it wonld not be a strange
thing if the amount of the Vice President's
salary is several times eaten up by his din
ners. When Evarts was Secretary of State
he spent, it is said, $30,000 more than his
salary in entertaining, and Senator Sher
man once told me that the expenses of bis
entertainments during his Secretaryship of
the Treasury was greater than the amount
he recpived from the Government.
THE AVERAGE DINNEB.
The extravagances mentioned at the be
ginning of this letter, however, are confined
to the wealthy lew. The average dinner in
Washington costs $12 and upward per
cover, and the following interviews which
I have had daring the past few days with
the leading ladies of tbe Capital give much
of interest regarding the successful dinner,
as to how long it should last, and as to what
it should probably cost
My first talk was with Mrs. John Wana
maker. She said: "I attended a dinner the
other nigbt which required one hour and
ten minutes for the serving, and it was one
of the most delightful affairs of the season.
The host told me that one hour was all
he would allow his wife for din
ner courses, hut that she always took
ten minutes' grace. Of course the service
must be faultless and the courses few, and I
am glad to notice that the latter has been
adopted this season. "Washington people
go so mucn in a season mat thev are too
weary to remain long at table. Mr. Wana
maker thinks a dinner should not be given
dnring the social season, for he says that
people should be at their best at a dinner.
which, according to his view, is the highest
type ot entertaining.
"Yes, it is true," continued Mrs. Wana
maker? "that I do not favor anything but
white linen both tor luncheons and dinners,
and do not in the least believe in extrava
gant embroideries and laces about the table.
The only color, I think, should be produced
by ferns and a few roses. I never serve
wines."
A QUARTER CENTUBT AGO.
The wife of the senior Justice of the Su
preme Court was next interviewed. Said
she: "Entertainments are not a whit more
extravagant now than they were 27 years
ago when I came to Washington. 1 3is
tinctly remember the elegance of the first
dinneI attended. It was given by Chief
Justice Chase and he escorted me to the
table. He was then a member of president
Lincoln's Cabinet Many, a time linos I
have recalled the menu of that night, and I
do not think any subsequent dinner has sur
passed it. Of course there were no terrapin
or canvas backs, as people did not consider
them a luxury then. The table appoint
ments were sumptuous. There whs one
wine setof Bohemian glass that was the most
beautiful thing I ever saw on a Washington
table. Mrs. Spraue reserved it when her
father's effects were sold. We sat nearly
three hours at the table. That reminds me
of the modern fad, for it deserves no higher
name, of rushing through a dinner in an
hour and a halt. It is an absurd custom.
We ought to take even a longer time to
serve our dinners than tbe English, for we
have so many more courses."
"What makes the successful dinner?" I
asked.
EOUB OF THE INDISFENSABEES.
"First of all," replied Mrs. Miller, "the
guests. They should not exceed 18 in num
ber, although a high official must often have
twice that number. Then they should know
each other so that there can be n current of
talk around and across tbe table. Second,
tbe service. There should not he an in
stant's delay in the courses. Third, the
choice and service of wines. Fourth, the
chef. I do not think a house can have a
reputation for characteristic dinners if they
have a caterer. Everything should be
cooked in tbe house and in an individual
style. Now, as to the expense. A good
dinner with wines with 12 guests ought to
be gotten up tor $150. . The total expense of
getting up a dinner has exactly quadrupled
since I came to Washington, and they tell
me this year that canvas-backs are $6
apiece instead of a pair."
Mrs. Senator Qnav said: "There have
been fewer entertainments given this year
than I have ever known, and I think it is
because people have been depressed by tbe
epidemic of influenza. Some dinners" have
been given, of course, but nothing like the
number given last season. Tbey are the
pleasantest entertainment for older people,
but it is equally true that they are the great
est trouble to a hostess. When I have given
them I have never had more than 18gnests,
as I think they lose their intimate, friendly
quality if more arc at the table. With one
or two exceptions I do not think Washing
ton dinner-givers are a whit more extrava
gant than those of other cities."
HEE DINNEB OVEEESTIMATED.
I found Mrs. Senator Hearst at home, and
asked her as to the cost of Washington din
ners. She said: "I gave an entertainment
last winter at which it was reported the
flowers alone cost $25,000. I was in New
York shortly afterward, and a friend aseed
me if I had heard the account I told her
that I had received papers from every pait
of the country commenting upon my ex
travagance, and then she asked exactly what
I had paid. I told her the exact truth when
I said $2o0. Even if I had been so imbecile
I could not have crammed $25,000 worth of
flowers into my whole house. When I came
to Washington I was told that every one
gave very large entertainments, and I said
that I should stand by my principles and
give small ones if I had to give many. They
torn me mat x coma not do it, but 1 have,
for I will not invite my friends to a crush.
It is not hospitality.
"A dinner perfect in every detail can be
got up for $25 per cover, not including
wines nor table appointments and service."
WIFE OF THE MEXICAN MINISTER.
I next called vupon Madame Matias
Bomero, who is one of the most accom
plished entertainers of the diplomatic circle,
and asked her as to these matteis. She
said: "I usually give two evening recep
tions or balls, two or three dinners and four
afternoon levees in a season. At the din
ners we have 16 or 18 guests, and our menu
differs little from others save that we always
have two or .three Mexican dishes such as
mole with sauce piquante and Chile velle-
LnotTliitfirst.. i tnrkeyprepami in Mexi
can laapion ana tne secona are red peppers,
as a Mexican thinks something, spicy and
hot is as necessary to digestion as wine. I
really do not know what we usually pay for
flowers at a dinner, hut at an evening recep
tion tbey represent the greatest expense, as
a house to be beautitul must be filled with
flowers. At the ball which we gave to
open the legation we had the walls covered
with palms, vines and flowers as though
they had not been frescoed."
A CABINET MENU.
I close my letter with the bill of fare of
one of the $1,000 feasts of the White House.
It is the menu used for President Harrison's
dinner to the Cabinet, and it reads as fol
lows: MENU.
Oysters on the half shell. Potage.
Green turtle soup. Polsson.
Boiled salmon with sauce.
Pommel Duchesse. Cucumbers.
Hors D'Oeuvre. Bouches a la Financier.
Cheese strawB and olives. Beleve.
Filet de boeuf a" la Jardiniere. Entrees.
Supreme de Valaiddes aux truffles.
Terrapin, Maryland style.
Petites aspio de Fois eras en Belleove.
Sorbet Kirsch pnncb. Rotl.
Uanvas-back ducks. Currant jelly.
Salade. Celery and lettuce mayonnaise.
Legumes. Asparagus. Entremets.
Giteau Sant Honore.
Glace. Pomfretta. Desserts.
Conserves, marrons glacis, bonbons, etc.
Cafe.
Spice tbe above with witty conversation,
decorate tbe table with the costliest flowers,
make the women all beautiful and the men
all bright and you have a feast for a King.
Miss Gbundt, Jb.
THE PEETTI BOOK AGENT.
X Boston Man'i Method of Teaching Her a
Lesson,
Boston Globe.I
"I was settling down to work," said a
book agent pestered man yesterday, "when
a pretty woman entered my office. No one
wonld suspect that she was a book agent.
She placed a volume in front of me and be
gan to talk. I told her I would not buy the
book if I really wanted it. 'Never mind,'
said she, gaily. 'It won't cost you anything
to look at it.'
"As she desired, I did look at it I read
the introduction and then chapter I. It was
aoont 10 o'clock when Iopened the book. At
11 o'clock the pretty book agent had become
uneasy. I never raised my eyes. Another
hour and she was pacing up and down the
floor. At 1 o'clock when she had nearly
worn herself ont, I laid the book down and,
putting on my hat and coat, said to the
thoroughly exasperated woman. 'That's a
clever book,I regret that I cannot read more
of it, bnt I must away to dinner.'
"She was mad, bat she didn't say a word.
Grabbing the book she shoved it into her
satchel and made for the street."
THE BABBIT'S LEFT HIND FOOT.
How tbe Goorcla Moonshiner Uses It to
Temper Jnatlcc.
Atlanta Journal.!
The Georgia moonshiner is a great be
liever in the witchery of a rabbit's foot, the
one coming from the left hind leg of the
rabbit killed in a country graveyard. When
the moonshiner comes to grief he brings his
rabbit foot with him to jail. When he is
called into court he rubs the foot over his
breast aB soon as he enters the room. When
the Judge calls him to the front he rubs him
self once more and oftimes he drops the
charmed piece of property upon the floor.
If he has his sentence suspended he at
tributes it to the rabbit foot; if he is sent to
jail he consoles himself with the thought
that he has rnbbed the charm npon the
wrong spot and carries it with him back to
jail, firmly believing that it will, in some
magical manner, secure his release before
his time expires.
The colored janitor who cleans np the
court room had at one time, a sack full of
rabbit feet found by him upon the floor
where tbe superstitious moonshiners had
dropped them.
Blaxb'
Fills Great English gout and
rheumati
remedy, tiore, prompt and effect-
ive. At i
rnxeisu'.
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COMEDY IN AMERICA.
Joe Jefferson Finds His Audiences
Are Too Willing to Laugh.
BUELESQUE GONE OCT OP STILE.
The
Stage in Need of Youn?, Attractive
and Talented Women.
EFFECT OF CONSTANT BEPITITI05
iwmri'KX fob the dispatch. 1
"Comedy is a very pleasant line of busi
ness," said Joseph Jefferson, the Nestor of
American comedians, as he sat with me one
night last week at the Arch Street Theater,
Philadelphia, in his dressing room, while
filling an engagement at that house.
"Audiences like to laugh," he continued,
"and it is usually very easy to make them
do so. In fact, a comedian's greatest an
noyance is that his auditors will persist in
thinking that everything he says or does is
funny, and in laughing at it just as En
glish society used to laugh when the late
Sydney Smith used to ask some one to pass
the mustard.
"In that scene of 'Eip Van Winkle' in
which poor Hip, after returning from his
long sleep, reveals himself to his daughter
Meenie, which, to my thinking, is inde
scribably pathetic, I have heard people
laugh as though it were the funniest thing
in the whole play. I am convinced that this
ill-timed mirth is not due to any insensibil
ity to the pathos of the situation, but to the
factthat the people who give vent to it,
having come to see a comedian, think that
his every word and action must necessarily
be funny. A comedian shonld always de
rive his humor from the character he is
playing and not from himself. If his
humor is developed from himself it is
always the same; if from his characters, it
will always be in keeping with the spirit of
each,
DICKENS TVBOTE FOB ALl TIME.
"I think the humor of Charles Dickens
the best and the most lasting. It will never
lose its charm, liiae ohalcespeare, he wrote
for all time. The ottener you read him the
funnier he seems. He grows upon you.
That last phrase, by the way, reminds me of
a capital thing I heard once at a dinner
party in London. It was during a rage for
false hair among the ladies, an J one gentle
man was speaking to another of tbe hair of
a female friend. 'She has the most exquis
ite hair, but beautiful as it seems when you
first see it, it grows upon you.'
" 'Ah,' said the other, 'bnt does it grow
upon her?'
"For broadly humorous writers there is
certainly no better field than burlesque, yet
it is a form of entertainment which in this
country seems entirely dead. Tbe kind of
burlesque which I mean that which really
does burlesque some serious production has
been dead tor a number of years, but what
old theaier-goer does not remember Stuart
Bobson's capital burlesque of 'Hamlet, or
The Wearing of the Black,' and his equally
funny 'Black-Eyed Susan, or the Little Bill
That Got Taken Up?' This admirable style
of burlesque died out, however, and was suc
ceeded by meaningless extravaganzas bur
lesquing nothing and serving merely to in
troduce pretty girls in handsome costumes
and songs and dances, together with any
nonsensical dialogue or ridiculous, grotesque
actions that might suggest themselves to the
performers. This style of burlesque was
first made popular in this country by Lydia
Thompson. It has been ..replaced" by the
less objeeUjinWtf?i4oclirinTr- GetmaH
comio operas. rue lnttmteiy-better quality
of their music draws a class" of patrons who
found nothing to interest them in the bur
lesque. The place of the Inter is also
partly supplied by the so-called farcical
comedies now so popular.
MABT ANDERSON AND ANNIE PIXIiEY.
"One of the greatest needs of the Ameri
can stage at the present time is young,
talented and attractive women such women,
for example, as Mary Anderson and Annie
Pixley. I shall never ioreet the first time
I ever saw the former. It was in one of
the parlors of the Fifth Avenue Hotel. She
had just returned from the theater on a cold
winter night, and as she came into the
room with her eyes sparkling and her
cheeks all aglow, her beauty greatly height
ened by a white nubia thrown about her
head, I thought her the very embodiment of
womanly loveliness and purity.
"Annie Pixley I first met while playing
in California. There was a stock company
attached to the theater at which I
was about to commence an engage
ment in San Francisco, and I was not quite
satisfied with the lady who was cast for
Gretchen ic "Eip Van Winkle." While I
was anxiously wondering whom I could ob
tain to replace her, I chanced to see Miss
Pixley play a part in "The Danites" and
was at once convinced that she possessed
great ability. At my suggestion she was
engaged to support me, and during my San
Francisco engagement she played not only
Gretditn, but also Lydia Languish, in
"The Rivals," and Cicely Homespun in
"The Heir-at-Law" surprisingly well. I
advised her to visit the East, and subse
quently meeting the late John E. McDon
ougb, who was in search of some one for the
role of iTliss, I recommended Miss Pixley
in the highest terms. He engaged her, and
the result was, as everybody knows, that
she became a successful star.
OVEE FIVE THOUSAND TIMES.
have often been asked what effect the
constant repetition of one part has npon an
actor. There is one enriouseffectthat it has,
aud that is, that after playing one part for a
great length of time an actor is apt to forget
His lines and take up wrong cues. I think
one part cannot be played too often, if the
actor does not lose his interest in it. It is
just as it is with our age. It was in 1865
that I first appeared as Sip Van Winkle,
and I have played that part over 5,000
times in the qnarter of a century that has
passed since then. I cannot claim to be the
original of the part My kinsman, the late
Charles Burke, was the first to dramatize
Washington Irving's famous legend. When.
at his death, the piece came into my hands,
it was readapted by Dion Boucicault and
myself. Tbe same leggings which Burke
wore when playing .Btp I have always worn
in the part ever since I first presented it to
the public." Fbakk Feen.
THE PLAYWKlGHrSI LUCE.
Public Favor Sure to be Showered on Least
Pi-omUluB Thing's.
If you have to do with the public, says
Charles Hoyt, the playwright, in the St
Louis Post-Dispalch, never bank on what
ynuhave carefully prepared, andparticu
be wary of what you think is sure to make
a hit. The mostsuccessful pieces of dra
matic work are the merest accidents. You
can find that snch is trne by referring to the
history of such men as Sothern; bnt I have
seen it so often in my own career that I am
convinced of it
A tbing may be good, and it mav be funnv
and all that, bnt no one can tell what will
please the public until the public hears it,
and nine times out often what you thought
would catch falls flat
A Coming Lawyer.
Bangor News.
One Sunday Bobby was discovered pound
ing a nut trying to crack it Mamma said
to him: "Wpy, fiobhy, what are you
doing? It is wrong to crack nuts on Sun
day. Put them away; you mnsn't crack
another one." She left him looking a little
disappointed and soon heard him pounding
again. Eetnming she said: "Bobby, why
don't yqu mind me?" "Zis isn't nmaer
-one,'" replied the little 4-year-old; "Zis same
J one."
',," A torH RIDER
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WBITTEN FOB
SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS.
Tbe story opens on the Welsh coast. Beatrice Granger, village schoolmistress and daughter
of the rector of Brymcelly, while paddlms in
oune London barrister, who
CHAPTEE IX.
WHAT BEATBICE DREAMED.
Geoffrey lay upon nis back, watching the
still patch of sunshine and listening to the
ticking of the clock, as he passed all these
and many other events in solemn review,
till the series culminated in his vivid
recollections of the scene of that very morn
ing. "I'm sick of it," he said at last aloud,
"sick and tired. She makes my life
wretched. If it wasn't for Effie, upon my
word I'd . By Jove, it's 3 o'clock; I'll
go and see Miss Granger. She's a woman,
not a female ghost at any rate, though she is
a freethinker which," he added as he
slowly struggled off the couch, "is a very
foolish thing to be."
Very shakily, for he was sadly knocked
about, he hobbled down tbe long narrow
room, and through the door which was ajar.
The opposite door was also set half open.
He knocked softly, and getting no answer,
pushed it wide and looked in, thinking
that he had, perhaps, made some mistake
as to the room. On a sofa placed about two
thirds down its length, lay Beatrice
asleep. She was wrapped in a kind
of dressing gown of some simple blue stuff,
and all about her breast and shoulders
streamed her lovely curling hair. Her
sweet lace was toward him, its pallor re
lieved only by the long shadow of the dark
lashes and the bent bow of the lips. One
white wrist and hand hung down almost to
the floor, and beneath the spread curtain
of the sunlit hair her bosom heaved
softly in her sleep. She looked bo won
drously beautiful in her rest that he stopped
almost awed, and gazed, and gazed again,
feeling as though a present sense and power
were stilling his heart to silence. It is dan
gerous to look upon such quiet loveliness,
and very dangerons to feel that pressure at
the heart A truly wise man feeling it
LISTENING- TO
would have fled, knowing that seeds sown
in such silences may live to blown upon a
bitter day, and xhed their fruit into the
waters of desolation. But Geoffrey was not
wise who would have been? He still stood
and gazed till the sight stamped itself so
deeply on the tablets of his heart that
through all the years to come no heats of
passion, no frosts of doubt, and no sense of
loss could ever dull its memory.
The silent snn shone on, the silent woman
slept and in silence the watcher gazed.
And as he looked a great fear, a prescience
of evil that shonld come, entered into him
and took possession ot him. A cloud with
out crossed the ray of sunlight and turned
it. It wavered, for a second It rested on his
breast, flashed back to hers, then went out;
and as it flashed and died he seemed to
know that henceforth, for lite till death, ayl
and beyond, his fate and that sleeping
woman's were one fate. It was but a mo
mentary knowledge; the fear shook him and
was gone almost before he understood its
foolishness. But it had been with him, and
in after days he remembered it.
Just then she woke, opening her gray
eyes. Their dreamy glance fell upon him,
looking through him and beyond bim,
rather than at him. Then she raised her
self a little, and stretching oat both her
arms toward him, spoke aloud:
"So you have come back to me at last,"
she said. "I knew that you would come,
and I have waited."
He made no answer; he did not know
what to say; indeed, he began to think that
he must be dreaming himself. For a little
while she still looked at him in the same
absent manner, then suddenly started up,
the red blood streaming to her brow.
"Why, Mr. Bingham," she said, "is it
really you? What was it that I said? Ob,
pray forgive me, whatever it was. I have
been asleep, dreaming such a curious dream,
and talking in my sleep."
"Do not alarm yourself, Miss Granger,"
he answered, recovering himself with a jerk;
"you did not say anything dreadlul, only
that you were glad to see me. "What were
you dreaming about?" She looked at him
doubtfully; perhaps his words did not ring
quite true.
"I think that I had better tell yon, as I
have said so mnch," she answered. "Be
sides, it was a very enrious dream, and if I
believed in dreams it wonld rather frihhten
me, only fortunately I do not. Sit down and
I will tell it to you before I forget it It is
not very long."
He took the chair to which she pointed,
and she began, speaking in tbe voice of one
yet laden with thenemories of sleep.
"I dreamed that I stood in space. Far to
my right was a great globe of light, and to
my left was another globe, and I knew that
the globes were named Life and Death.
From tbe globe on the right to the globe on
the left, and, back again, a golden shuttle.
in which two flaming eyes were set, was shot
continually, and I knew also that this was
tbe shuttle of Destiny, weaving the web of
Fate. Presently the shuttle flew, leaving be
hind (t a long silver thread, and the eyes in
the shuttle vere such as your eyes. Again
the shuttle sped through space, and this
time Its eyes were like my eye, and. the
thread it left behind it was twisted from a
woman's hair. Half way between the globes
of life and death my thread ot life was
broken, but the shuttle fLc-r on and van
ished. For a moment the thread hung in
air, then a wind rose and blew it, so that it
floated away like a spider's web,- till it
struck npon your silver thread of life
and began to twist round and round
It. - As it twisted it grew larger and
youne London barrister, who has been cat off from the shore Dy tne rising uae, ana accepts
Beatrice's offer to take him to shore. A storm comes up. The canoe is overwhelmed by aware,
Geoffrey is burled against a table rock and knocked senseless. Beatrice clings to him and the
seaweed on the rock. A wave washes them away, bnt sailors rescne them. The doctors work
long with botn and tbey recover. Geoffrey's titled wife comes and shows a lack of wifely feel
in& 'Squire Oweu Daviea, wealthy and honest, betrays his love for Beatrice- by waiting three
hours in the rain to hear ot her condition. Beatrice's sister, Elizabeth, Is ambitions to becoms
Mrs. Owen Davies. In Chapter VI. is described Mr. Davies' first meeting with Beatrice, bis
ever-increasing devotion and Beatrice's annoyance While Geoffrey is recovering, his little
daughter, Effle. runs away from her mother and visits him. This leads to a scene between Geof
frey and his titled wife. She chafes under poverty and he accuses her of heartlessuess.
f
HASSAE1P
THE DISPATCH.
her canoe,. discovers Geoffrey Bingham, a rising
heavier, till at last it was thick as a great
tress of hair, and the silver line bent
beneath the weight so that it soon must
break. Then, while I wondered what would
happen, a white hand holding a knife slid
slowly down the silver line, and with the
knife' severed the wrappings of woman's
hair, which fell and floated slowly away,
like a little cloud touched with sunlight,
till they were lost in darkness. But ths
thread of silver that was your line of life,
sprang up quivering and making a sound
like sighs, till at last it sighed itself to
silence.
"Then I seemed to sleep, and when I
woke I was floating npon such a misty sea
as we saw last night. I had lost all sight of
land, and I could not remember what the
stars were like, nor how I had been taught
to steer, nor understand where I must go. I
called to the sea, and asked it of the stars,
and the sea answered me thus:
"Hope has rent her raiment, and the
stars are set"
"I called again, and asked of the land
where I should go, and the land' did not
answer, but the sea answered me a second
time:
" 'Child of the mist, wander in the mist,
and in darkness seek for light.'
"Then I wept because Hope had rent her
starry garment and in darkness I must seek
for light And while I still wept, you rose
ont of the sea and sat before me in the boat
I had never seen you before, and still I felt
that I had known'you always. You did not
speak, and I did not speak, but you looked
into my heart and saw its trouble. Then I
Iooked'into your heart, and read what was
written. And this was written:
" 'Woman whom I knew belore the earth
began, and whom I shall know when tbe
future is ended, why do you weep?'
"And my heart answered, 'I weep because
I am lost upon the waters of the earth, be
cause Hope has rent her starry robes and in
everlasting darKness I must seek for light
that is not' Then your heart said, Twill
howyou light' and bending forward you
THE DBEAM.
touched me on the breast
"And suddenly an agony shook me like
the agonies of birth and death, and the sky
was fnll of great winged angels, wbo rolled
up the mist as a cloth and drew veils from
the eyes of night, and there, her feet upon
tbe globe, and her star-set bead piercing the
firmament of heaven, stood Hope breathing
peace and beauty. She looked north and
south and east and west, then she looked
upward through the arching vaults of
heaven, and wherever she set ber eyes,
bright with holy tears, the darkness shriv
eled and sorrow ceased, and from corruption
arose the incorruptible. I gazed and
worshiped, and, as I did so, again the sea
spoke unquestioned:
" 'In darkness thou hast lound light, in
death seek for wisdom.'
"Then once more Hope rent her starry
robes, and tbe angels drew down a veil over
the eyes of night, and the sea swallowed me,
and I sank till I reached the deep founda
tions of mortal death. And there, iu halls
of death I sat for ages npon ages, till at last
I saw yon come, aud on yonr lips was the
word of wisdom that makes all things clear.
Xfa Wam't or Effle.
bnt what it was I cannot remember. Then I
stretched ont my hands to greet yon, and
woke, and that is all my dream."
She ceased, her gray eyes set wide, as
though they still strove to trace their spir
itual vision npon the air of earth, her breast
heaving, and her lips apart
"Greit heaven 1" he said, "what an im
agination yon must have to dream such a
dream as that."
"Imagination I" she answered, returning
to her natural manner. "I have none, Mr.
Bingham. I used to have, but I lost it
when I lost everything else. Can you in
terpret my dream? Of course yon cannot;
it is nothing but nonsense snch stuff ai
dreams are made oi ; that is all."
"It may be nonsense, but it is beautiful
nonsense," he answered. "I wish ladies
bad more of such stuff to give the world."
"Ah, well, dreams may. be wiser than
wakings, and nonsense than learned talk,
for all we know. But there's an end of ft.
I don't know why I repeated it to yon. I am.
sorry I did repeat it, but it seemed so real it
shook me ont of myself. This is whit
comes of breaking in upon the routine of
life by being three parts drowned. On
finds queer things at the bottom of the sea,
you know. By the way, I hope that yon are
recovering. I do not think that yoa will
care to go eanoeing again with me, Mr.
Bingham."
There was an opening for compuan
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