THE PITTSBURG DISPATCH
c V
PITTSBURG, SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 1890.
'
f 1
. THIRD PART.
kM . f
I
PAGES 17 TO -20.
NYE EICH IN WISDOM.
-He
Dispenses Information to
Sunday Correspondents.
His
.EXPEKSE OF A BALL IN NEW YORK.
Cheapening Effect of a Live Conversational
- ' 1st or Humorist.
CHIEF 1RAITS OF THE STAGE HA5D
IWEITTEH rOB tW PI8PATCH.1
DO cot
know
.7H-35&
that anyone has
ever referred
publicly to the
average stage
hand as we find
him at the one
night stands. I
do not mean the
professional stage
hand, but the
young and pim
ply party who
acts as floor
walker for a liv
ery stable during
thedayand shiits
the scenery at the
theater at night.
He is a self-
madeyoungman,
who is not afraid to appear before any audi
ence in a pair of high-top rubber boots
Which he has used all day to wash buggies
in, and light the footlights amid thunders of
applause. We had one of these gentlemen
the other night He brought nine others to
help him. I think that the most of them
sleep on the stage nights. They were play
ing "old sledge" behind the drop curtain
when we came.
I do not know what they were there for.
"We did not want them, we did not need
them. They joyfully stood around in the
way and spat down a large knothole near
the curtain rope, although it was a hopeless
task, for it dried up belore the next one
Tou Save Went Bach on Jtle.
conld get ready, and so tbey are no nearer
to floating the stage away than when they
first began. I asked the- head man $!' he
would get me a glass ot water. He said he
had to remain in order to attend to the cur
tain. As we do not use any curtain or
scenery or properties, except a glass of
water and a stick of hoarhound candy. I
thought he could be spared, but he did not
seem to think so, and I got a small boy to
bring me -the water while the head boy, now
the stage Napoleon, went to reading once
more the thrilling talc, "Married in Haste,
to Bepent at Chicago; or.How I Won Her,"
by A. Oner, Esq.
A VERT TIRED XOUNG JIAN.
He was the tiredest young man for one
who was just in the fluffand bloom and hey
day of life that I erer saw. He had a very
retreating chin. Otherwise he would not
have had the strength of purpose to spit
over it. His forehead also asked to be ex
cused and went back into bis hair in search
of ideas and one thing and another, I
judge.
One of his front teeth had disappeared.
Doubtless kicked out by an infuriated horse
while the two were sleeping in the same
stall, the horse being tied, however, and un
able to get away, nsing his only means of
discouraging a bed fellow with whom he
could certainly have nothing in common.
The loss of his tooth gave him greater scope
as an expectorator, and would have assisted
his smile if he had ever smiled, but he never
smiled. It is very rare that such a. man
laughs. His dignity and a set of liverwurst
thought works in a" poor state of preserva
tion, are all he has. Life is a serious matter
with an ass. I do not say this to be euphoni
ous, but from the rich and overflowing treas
ures of a ripe experience. (I thought I
would say that before some one else did it
lor me.)
The ass is always sad and dignified. He
is profound and mournful. If yon desire
to see solemnity, dignity and mental ob
liquitv, go to the penitentiary and to the
corral when the deep voiced ass with the
low, retreating forehead trills his tremend
ous notes in the hush of the evening.
My dead friend, Mr. Shaw, once said that
dignity was no more the sign of wisdom
than the paper collar was the sign of a
shirt, and I can cut my hand on my heart
and say he was right.
A BALL, IN NEW YORK.
En route I have received several letters
and queries from readers and correspondents,
which I will take the libtrty of answering
here if I hear no objection prior to the pub
lication of this-
"Betire Pennvpacker," Toledo, Ohio,
asks what the cost of a ball would be if
properly given to one's friends in New
iort.
A recent estimate is as follows, as nearly
as I can recollect:
Bent of ballroom onco
Orchids, palms, etc "" $ooo
Floral favors for ladles "' fi"oog
Jeweled favors for German, say at 810
apiece, say 20.000
(Worn jour company comprises other
nationalities than German you might
make It for less).
Dinner at J10 per plate insm
jviusic illlllllll C00
B. and B. I or following morning 10,000
Total .$50,000
Of course slight reductions could be made
on this, say if you use field glasses with
powdered alum on them and pressed autumn
leaves instead of the orchids, you can save
from 57,000 to 8,000. Or if you want to
trim your hall with festoons of seed corn
and dried apples instead of palms, you may
cut down this "bill $3,000 or $3,500. Again,
you might cheapen the floral offerings to the
ladies bv using paper flowers, or postponing
the ball until golden rod gets within the
reach of all. 'A dinner in New York may
also be arranged much cheaper than $10 a
plate, by having several bright conversation
alists at each end of the table and skipping
the horse doovers, arriving at once at the re
moves of, say a broiled pig's loot on toast, a
bottle of Ann Hizer Sec and ice cream.
HUMOKISTS ARE USEFUL.
A bright conversationalist or a good
humorist who is willing to give a fair
equivalent for his food can save you at such
a meal hundreds of dollars. You might
k mnr
(V Huifl ! I
BBS
2H
gmjV-'W J&n
Sff-teaf 4ea
S3fS-a&iJBi Ail XaW.
have to take the conversationalist and
humorist out into the woodshed and give
them something extra before the meal, in
order to keep them up to where they would
be willing to sparkle and be the life of the
party, bat even tben it would be a great
saving to you. I once went to a delightful
dinner of this kind, but was not told to
sparkle, so talked entirely withayounglady
near me all the evening regarding Mr. Bus
sell and the Delsarte theory.
The host was so mad that he did not pass
me the pie at all, and ate my dried prunes,
with the rich umbrella juice that went with
them, while I was looking the other way.
When he gave me my hat and overcoat at
last in the hall he hissed in my ear:
"You have went back on me and have
came to my house for the last time. If you
had of done the square thing you would
have had as good a time as you was ever at,
and got yonr little old $5 besides, but now
you can be excused. I didn't ast you to
come here and stuff yourself full of my
victuals and then talk art to a mere stripling
of a girl. If you want to get ahead you
want to do it some other way."
I told him that when I fonndout where to
get a head I would be sure to give him the
address. I then selected a good pair of over
shoes, took what I thought to be a fresh
cigar from the stand and went away. It did
not smell so fresh, however, after I lighted
it as I thought it would.
NUMEROUS QUERIES ANSWERED.
"Bright Alfarata," San Jose, Cal.". asks
what to do for an ingrowing nail and how
to make salt rising bread. I do not know
what to do. I never had eyether.
"Theological Student" No, you are
wrong about that At Guttenberg, ou the
4th, the filth race of 6J furlongs was won
by Fordham, Blue Bock second, Carnegie
third; time, 1-21;?.
"Sangamon," Erie, Pa., asks how the
passenger steamships of the United States
compare with those of other countries, En
gland especially. The United States does
not or do not compare well with England in
the matter of passenger steamers. Aside
from the Hoboken ferry aud a naphtha
launch, our keels are not found plowing the
waters very much. Buffalo Bill goes over
to London with his Indians and scouting
clothes in a foreign steamship, and then
foreign steamships take 300,000 people over
there to see him. Tncn, when they get
through, foreign steamships bring them
home, also the fleecy William and his hand.
Then he goes to Paris in a foreign steamer.
Several hundred thousand Americans go
over there also, utilizing English and other
alien keels for that purpose in order to hear
Colonel Codv converse with Chemise La
Bouge in French. Then they come home
the same way, and he follows suit.
CHARACTER OP THE AMERICAN.
When we get the World's Fair it will be
the same way. The American is not an
aquatic bird, but rather a hewer of wood
and vender of town lots. He riseth up in
the morning while it is yet night and saith
unto himself, I will buy a farm in Anoka
county, and I will lay it out in lots, and I
will also lay ont the gentle ass that buyeth
the same, and I will make him for to bray
before the evening has come, for behold he
shall call for a room at an inn and he shall
record his name thereat, and the name
wherewithal he shall record himself will be
Dennis.
"Birdie," South Brooklyn, N. T., asks:
Who was Wild Bill, and how did he die?
Wild Bill was a gentleman named Hickock,
and he did not reck aught for anyone. It
was said that he had a most peculiar thorax.
All his ribs and breast bones were so closely
united that his heart and side lights were
encased in a bony canoply almost impervious
to a bullet, and be was frequently spoken of
as the man with the hunting-case tnorar
and Bessemer works. Ho could drink, or
he could let it alone, so he divided up the
time in such awav that be would let it alone
mostly while engaged in slumber.
He was shot in the back of the head by a
brave but-cross-eyed man at Deadwood in
the spring of '76. asjis saint a card.table in
ona of c"so;ial centers of Ihii city, play
ing progressive euchre. Wild Bill wore
profusive hair, in which at early spring
time the swallows were -wont to build their
nests and rear their young.
NOT AT ALL. TOTTED "OP.
The murderer of Wild Bill, after his
rrime, came at once on horseback from
Deadwood to my town, where through
strong political influence I got an intro
duction to him. He talked pleasantly and
even kindly to me, although he had denied
himself to all other reporters and held him
self aloof from the ceneml public. He was
ratber plain in appearance, and yet I can
The Killing of Wild SHU
truthfully say that among all the murderers
I have known, and who have written in my
autograph album, he was the most un
ostentatious and least puffed up by his sud
den elevation. He told me that he only re
gretted that be had not fitted himself for the
position to which he found himself so sud
denly elevated.
On the day of his execution he ate a
hearty breakfast of ham and eggs, angel
food, pork sansage, blanc mange, calves'
liver, custard pie, mackerel, snow pudding
and codfish balls. He then wrote in a
steady hand the following sentiment in an
album for a beautiful young lady who tried
to get him pardoned:
"Dear One I hope you will try to live
a blameless life, so that you can meet me in
heaven. Tours, Bobert."
All his advice to everyone was good. He
even told the clergyman who went with him
to the scaffold that he must not be weary in
well doing, but strive on through life and
he would surely obtain his reward. He was
dressed in his
REST SUIT OP CLOTHES.
As he went to the scaffold, he carried a
bouquet of choice orchitis, given him by the
Young Ladies' Band of Crime Preventers.
When asked if he had anything to say be
fore his death he only smiled sweetly, laid
his chew of tobacco on thecrosspiece of the
scaffold and said: "Ladies ana gentlemen,
I'm going home to die no more. I cannot
make a speech, but I am resolved from this
out to lead a blameless life. I hope you will
all do the same, so that you can meet me in
that bright land to which I am now vninc
to-"
At this point the great weight of his over
shoes broke his neck, and he passed on to
receive his reward. Skeptical people were
afraid that he had been a little oversanguine
regarding the future state, but hoped that he
had, as an old distiller expressed it, become
one of the rectified spirits. BILL H YE.
Looking ont from the parlors of the Sturte
yant House, Broadway and Twenty-ninth St.,
. Y one may see 2,000 cars passing the house
If he sits all day. The Bturtevant House Is
well kept on the European plan. Prices moderate.
LOVES OF STATESMEN.
Bits of Romance in the Lives of Men
Who Have Become Famons.
TOU REED'S AWKWARD PROPOSAL,
How Lige Halford Popped to the Little
Soprano, of the Choir.
A MAIDEN WHOSE PAPA LOCKED HEE DP
icobuxsfoxdencx or thi dispatch.!
Washington, February 8.
VEEY man in
Congress has
had his romance
and those wise
heads that now
bobupanddown
on the waves of
legislation have
smirked and
smiled as they
whispered sweet
nothings in their
fair mistresses'
ears. Most of
them worked
harder tor their
wives than they
work on their
speeches and not
a few found the
troubles of their
courtships greater than the annoyance of
office-seekers. Scores of them owe their
prominence to their wives who have pushed
them to the front and kept them straight
Ex-Speaker Carlisle is gfeatly indebted, for
his success to the blonde beauty who pre
sides over bis household, and Sam Bandall
would never have made his great reputation
had it not been for the restraininginfluences
of the little woman who is now watching
over bis bedside. Thomas B. -KeeQ was
hardly in the Speaker's chair beforo de
licious stories began to float down from
Maine that the man who weighs 300 pounds
would politically have weighed, nothing if
it had not been lor his plucky, prettv wife.
She was Susan Merrill, daughter of a New
Hampshire minister and married "Tom"
when he had hardly confidence enough in
himself to propose to her. He was a big,
awkward schoolteacher then, and it was her
courage that induced him to study law, and
finally to enter politics. His Maine neigh
bors say he owes his whohm career to the lit
tle woman who is so proud of him to-day.
Yes, men owe much to their wives,
and it is interesting to find out wby and
when and how women married as they did.
Take the calm matrons who rule Washing
ton society. If one catches them aright
they will blushingly confess to a bit of ro
mance tucked away somewhere in their
lives.
PRESIDENT HARRISON'S COURTSHIP.
"There was none at all in our marriage,"
was the laughingrejoinderof Mrs. Benjamin
Harrison when I asked her for her romance.
"We just stood beforemy father and he mar
ried us. There was no climbing down a
ladder, no secreting notes in trees, nothing
that goes to makes up a romantic marriage.
I had known Mr. Harrison three years, for
he was a student at the college in Oxford,
O., and I was in the seminary of which my
lather was President.
"Our age? Well, that was a bit romantic,"
she acknowledged with a laucb. "Wewere
both 20, and we had not much to start with.
Although I had no romance I had an
awakening," she continued. "My mother,
'always wante'd me to learn everything about.'
housekeeping, and I always said, 'Ob, I'll
never need to do that.' Much to my dis
taste I learned to prepare a dinner, bake
bread and mend. Xhad been married a year
and was living in a little house in Indian
apolis when my mother visited me. She
said very little until she was about to leave.
and then quite dryly remarked: 'I see, my
dear, you have been able to make use of
some of the things ynu learned.' "
Mrs. Harrison laughed as heartily as a
school girl at the recollection, and said
proudly: "Even at this day lean go into a
kitchen and prepare a dinner from the les
sons I learned then. A wife was a house
wife then, for men rose more slowly than
they do now."
CABINET LOVE STORIES.
The"ladies of the Cabinet were romantic
"when they were girls." They all married
young save Mrs. Miller, and her reason for
waiting I will tell later. Two of them.Mrs.
Blaine and Mrs. Windom, were teaching
school when they met their husbands. All
know how Harriet Stanwood, the plucky
Maine girl, went to Kentucky to do what
then was an -extraordinary feat, to "earn
her living." How the same need sent the
young Pennsylvanian, James G. Blaine, to
the same village and how the two exiles
soon fell in love and married. There are
several Kentuckians in Washington who
went to school to them and they all say Miss
Stanwood was a handsome, high-spirited
girl, two ot their pupils were W. U. P.
Breckenridge and wife.
Strange to say, the Blaine children all
married almost as romantically as their
father and mother. They say that Mr. Em
mons Blaine was in love with Miss Anita
McCormick three years before he gained
courage to ask her to marry him, and that
so lover-like a lover is rarely seen, and
everyone knows that the marriage of Mar
garet Blaine and the musician Damrosch
will have a fine background of romance.
MBS. SECRETARY WINDOM.
Mrs. Windom was a graduate of Mount
Holyoke, and like many another Massa
chusetts girl of that day, went to the "Far
West to teach. She settled at the little vil
lage of Mt. Vernon, and a year belore her
arrival there came to the same village a
young lawyer, William Windom by name.
He rose rapidly for those days, and within
two years was prosecuting attorney forKnox
county. Such success assured his future,
and Miss Hatch, the Massachusetts school
teacher, soon changed from the school room
to the little cottage, which still stands in
Mt. Vernon.
Secretary Noble had gone out to Iowa be
fore he journeyed back to Connecticut to
marry the attractive girl he had wooed be
fore he started out to make his fortune. She
was Miss Halstead, the daughter of a suc
cessful physician.
Mrs. Miller was 25 years old when she
married, but she had been engaged to the
young lawyer many years. First he had to
struggle to gain his law education, and then
when they were about to marry he entered
the army ana were was another long wait.
They married just before the close of the
war at the little village of Maumee, which
at that time was exDected to take Toledo's
place and be the largest city in Northwest
ern Ohio.
HOW W. C. P. BRECKENRIDGE MADE LOVE.
Mrs. W. C. P. Breckenridge, "the woman
witb the Madonna face," has a bit of history
that is as sad as it is lovely. Her romance
and trouble came after she'married a hand
some Kentuckian. Thev had been married
but a few months when the Civil War broke
out. Now old "Joe" Breckenridge was
known throughout Kentucky as a staunch
Union man, and when his sou "Willie"
entered the Confederate ranks he vowed he
would never forgive him. There was a piti
ful parting between the young couple, and
it was doubly full of woe as the bride, being
alone in the world, must needs live with her
father-in-law until the cruel war was over.
She herself was a Southern girl, and all her
sympathies were with her lover-husband.
As time went ou old Joe Breckenridge be
came more embittered toward his son, -and
daily he made his young daughter-in-lnw
feel her dependent position. When the war
closed she was as beautiful awoman, but
ljE
IP5il
her face had gained lines of sadness which
it has never lost. The husband has never
forgotten bis wife's loyalty and devotion,
aud one of the prettiest'sigbts at the Capital
is to see the patrician-looking Breckenridge,
the "silver-tongued," walking with his
sweet-faced wife, for they act like lovers.
HOW ELIJAH HALFORD POPPED.
There is a neat little romance hidden away
back in the lives of Private Secretary Elijah
N. Halford ana wife. Before she was
married Mrs. Halford was a great singer.
She had an exceptional soprano voice, and
when she found it necessary to care for her
self Bhe begged her father to let her go to
Indianapolis and accept an offer which had
been made to her to sing in a church choir.
With some fear he consented, and off the
young girl, scarcely 18, started to make
fame and fortune. Standing next her in the
choir was a young printer whom everybody
liked and called "Lige." He sung bass aud
she sung soprano, and oftentimes there were
not books enough to go around and they
were forced to look on the same page. After
a time "Lige" called incidentally on his
way to choir practice and often walked home
with her in the early evening. In a short
time they grew to be very good friends, and
never thoueht anv more of slncirr from
different hymn books. One night tbey were
hopefully chanting the hopeless dirge, "The
Oil Ban Down Aaron's Beard," and when
the soprano blythesomely sung, "The oil,
the oil, the oil ran down," "Lice" peaked
over the hymn book and whispered, "Will
you marry me ?"
The little soprano struggled pluckily on
until the bassos took up the heavy retrain
"down Aaron's beard, down Aaron's beard,
Aaron's beard," and then she whispered,
"Barkis is willin'," and two voices dropped
out of the final winding-up of the old
anthem.
THREE DATS ON BREAD AND WATER.
The acknowledged 'beauty of the diplo
matic corps is Madame Guzman, wife of the
Nicaraguan Minister. Her tale of love is a
romance. She was the only daughter of
Mr. Ewing, a stern Quaker of Philadelphia,
and when she was but 16 she met-Horacio
Guzman, a young Spaniard who was attend
ing college in the city of Brotherlv Love.
They will both say that love at first 'sight is
not a myth tor 21 hours after they met the
Spaniard was sighing in true Castilian
fashion beneath her window. The father
soon learned the state of affairs and when
the maiden refused to give ud her lover he
forthwith locked her in her room himself
han'dlng in the bread and water which was
her diet lor three long days. The gallant
Nicaraguan, by means ot a flying bit of
caper, discovered the plight of his ladylove
and many were the consolatory messages
sent through the trim maid. The daughter
did not relent and the bread and water diet
continued for a week. At the end of that
time Mr. Ewing accepted the situation after
the fashion of an outwitted Quaker and
'made no war' ou his enemies. He con
sented to their marriage, and it is said, grew
in time to admire his son-in-law.
MILLIONAIRE FLOWER'S DAUGHTER.
There are two love affairs of this season
that are goirjg to have a sad effect on the
matrimonial question. Mothers never men
tion their own little romances to their
romantio daughters, but here we have two
most idylllo but totally impractical affairs
occurring in the height of the season two
daughters of millionaires marrying penniless
young men.. The girls' hettds are completely
turned by the sacrifice of ducats to romance,
aud many a similar affair may be expected
within the year.
First of all is-the idylf the year 1889, the
marriage of Emma Gertrude Flower to John
Bayard Taylor, of Watertown, N. J. Now
Miss Flower will one day have $4,000,000,
and her husband has only what he earns by
his own efforts, but all the marriages made
by American girls and foreign princes will
not turn out as haccilv as this, for it U
founded on genuine love. Miss Flower met
Mnr Taylor -while visiting a relative at
Watertown, It was a case of love at first
sight. '. ,Whjauhe: weaCbaelcte-NeVrrofk.
she told her'fatber, and mother, and they're
monstrated, as she was only 18, had not even
made her debut,, and bad beyond her the
seductive prospect of a winter in Washing
ton. It was all in vain, and the father
acknowledged that his young daughter was
wiser than many older people when shesaid:
DIDN'T WANT A CLUB MAN.
"Of course, papa, Icaumarrya club man,
but I wantto marry a man whom I shall
see once in awhile, and who will love me
better than his club, his horses or his dogs;"
the sweetest sentiment in the world, and it
carried the day, for Mr. Flower had not
forgotten that he too started life as a poor
man. January 2 they were married, and
even the mothers said it was the prettiest
wedding ever seen at the capital, although
I beg you to .believe that they still want
their daughters to marry club men.
The second one that is turning the mar
riage conventionalities topsy-tnrvy is that
of Miss Eleanor Foster, the daughter of ex
Minister John W. Foster, to Mr. Lansing, a
lawyer from the same favored village of
Watertown. Miss Foster has been one of
the most beautiful and courted of Washine.
ton's society belles, and not a few epaul
Ietted dandies were chagrined that she ac
cepted a poor yonng lawyer in preference to
one of them. She has bad wonderful social
advantages, as her father was Minister to
three courts.
JULIUS CESAR SERVES THREE TEARS.
Mrs. Congressman Burrows, of Michin-an.
tells a pretty tale of how she met and loved
her husband. He was teaching school in
Kalamazoo, and among his pupils was dark
eyed Lizzie Peck, daughter of a wealthy
farmer who still lives 12 miles out of Kala
mazoo. He fell in love with her and wanted
to marry at once, but her father heard of the
affair and sent her off to a private school.
He was a wise old fellow, this Farmer Peck,
and Bid not forbid th marriage, bnt quito
indulgently agreed to let it take place when
his daughter had finished her education.
She was away three years, and instead of
marrying the schoolgirl of 17, J.C. Burrows
married the woman of 20. He had in the
meantime gone irom school teaching to the
law, and Farmer Peck had much more re
spect for the law than the beggarly school
teaching.
LOVE AFFAIR OF THE CHIEF JUSTICE.
Then there is the Chief Justice of the
United States. Who denies that he owes
his high office to his wife? When he met
Susan Coolbaugh, the daughter ot a wealthy
Chicagoan, over 20 years ago, he was an
ambitious young politician caring more to
make a politiciil speech than to plead a case
at law. tie was uying around to all the
county conventions nominating this one ahd
seconding-the nomination of that one when
Miss Coolbaugh ,came across his path.
Would she marry him? Yes, if he would
give up politics and stick to the law. He
was enough in love to recognize her superior
wisdom, and he forthwith gave up politics
and devoted himself to the profession ot
which be is uow the head.
"I told him I should never marry a poli
tician," is the way Mrs. Fuller describes the
veering in her husband's career.
Miss Grundy, Jr.
FITTING OPh'RA GLASSES.
The Width I nn Important Matter
Often Overlooked.
Very
Very often one gets a fine opera glass,
takes it to the theater with lively anticipa
tion of pleasure, and tben has the whole
evening spoiled by what seems to be the
perveneness of the glass, remarks an opti
cian in the St Louis Globe Democrat. No
matter how much it is screwed and adjusted
it won't focus. The glass is looked upon as
the cause. This is an error. Most fre
quently it will be discovered that the glass
is too narrow for the eyes or too wide. In
either case imperfect vision, overtaxed eyes
and a headache will follow the nse of the
glass. Opera glasses should fit the eyes
as well as spectacles. A glass is made that
cm be folded so as to fit any eye, and that
should be used by those who don't own a
pair of glasses fitted to' them by an opti-
A NATION'S GATEWAY
Story of Castle Garden and the Mill
ions it Has Sheltered.
SO LONGER FOR IMMIGEASf USE.
Jenny Lind San? Her First Song in America
jPnder Its Roof.
I'OETEESS, BEER HALL AND THEATER
rconnisrouDEHcx or tub dispatch, i
New York, February 8.
OB nearly S3 years
Castle Garden has
been the great gate
way through which
millions of people
passed to seek
homes in the New
World. Within a
few days, by the
authority of the
Secretary ot the
Treasury, that gate
will be closed, to
be opened no more.
The immigrants
coming to this
country will no
longer find shelter and protection in the
curious old ramshackle building, where the
grandfathers and erandmothers and thn
fathers and mothers of so many thousands of
stalwart Americans of to-dav first enjoyed
security and salety secured them by the flag
that floated over the wooden rotunda; Here
alter the newcomers will be landed on Gov
ernor's Island, and the same protection that
has always been accorded them will be con
tinned and increased.
The story of Castle Garden touches very
nearly indeed some millions of people and
their descendants in this oonntry. Since it
was first opened nearly 10,000,000 or immi
grants in round numbers up to January
1, 1890, 9,639,635 men, women, and children
have passed through its portals and gone
forth to seek homes and fortunes under our
flag.
VICTIMS OF HORDES OF RASCALS.
Before the garden was opened the immi
grants landing in this country were dis-
eiiiu!l.JSs
tffl if far i
i I i i jj .i l j ri- .- . v
VIEW OF CASTLE GARDEN.
chargell at the various docks along the river
front and left to the tender mercies of the
hordes of hangers on that crowded about the
piers and the big sailing ships. Often
friendless and generally poor new-comers
were made the. prey of the rascals and
'thieves who lived upon the ignorance and
timidity of these immigrants, until from all
sides rose up protests against a sys
tem which left the unfortunates
at the mercy of those heart
less scoundrels. It took a long time to se
cure a remedy for the great wrong that was
being penetrated, for behind the system were
banded hundreds of runners for the board
ing houses that crowded the North and East
Biver fronts. Saloons, dance halls, money
changers, employment agencies, railroad
offices and a thousand other business ar
rangements more or less reputable, bntjren-'
erally less reputable, each of which was
crowing rich out of the money filched from
the ignorant immigrants.
The first fight made against these well en
trenched robbers began in 1845, and was un
successful. Politics and the politicians were
too powerful for the few men and newspa
pers who had taken up the cause of the new
comers and the effort to dislodge the thieves
and thugs who were robbing the immigrants
almost without hindrance, met with quick
defeat,
WON THE SECOND FIOHT.
But public attention had been directed to
the matter, and the stones of the wrongs in
flicted on the helpless foreigners aroused n
storm of public indignation throughout the
country, and finally the Legislature of New
York was prevailed upon, in the face of a
strong opposition from the politicians, to in
vestigate the subject and to devise a com
prehensive remedy for these evils. Through
the exertions of Thurlow Weed, Archbishop
Hughes, Moses H. Grinnell, Charles
O'Conor, Bobert B. Minturn and other emi
nent citizens of New York, the passage of a
bill to organize the Board of Immigration
was secured in 1847.
The final result of this move was the
establishment at Castle Garden of an in
stitution which for the motives of those who
inspired it, the character of tho3e who
managed it, and the helplessness of those
who came within its fostering care, stood for
years among the most benign and efficient
public institutions in our land. Especial
care was tatcn to select pudiic spirited
citizens of high intelligence and stern in
tegrity as members of the first board and
they were Guillan C. Verplanck, James
Boorman, Jacob Halliday, Bobert B.
Minturn, William F. Havemeyer and
David C. Colden, eminent, philanthropic
and distinguished citizens of New York.
The Mayors ot New York and Brooklyn,
the President of the Irish Immigrant
Society and the President of the German
Society were made members of the board by
virtne'of their offices.
THE WORK ONLY BEGUN.
The passage of the law and the appoint
ment oi the iioara ot commissioners aia
not stop the war made by the thieves and
hoodlums along the docks against this effort
to protect the immigrants. It took eight
years for this energetic board to so far over
come the prejudices of the public and the
fierce opposition ot the organized band of
plunderers and thieves as to be able to
secure a place where th.e immigrants could
be sheltered and protected.
Castle Garden was opened in 1855. Long
before this time Castle Garden had been a
notable landmark in New ork. Sitting at
the confluence of the Fast and North rivers
and looking beyond over toward Governor's
Island down toward the beautiful bay, the
location was one which for beautv of site
and healthfulness of situation could not be
surpassed. In 1817 the Federal Govern
ment looking about for a place
upou which to locate a fort fur the protec
tion of the harbor applied to the State of
New York for the land upon which Castle
Garden now stands. The Legislature con
sidered the request favorably and the loca
tion was ceded to the Government, which
immediately began the erection of a stone
fort, and on its completion named it Fort
Clinton, titer DeWitt Clinton, the Governor
of New York. The solid stone walls that
surround Castle Garden to this day, shutting
out impertinent intruders upon the immi
grant, are tbe same walls' that in those days
made the fort considered as one of the most
formidable for defense on this continent.
ONCE A FASHIONABLS CENTER.
There was never any use for the cannon
that at one time frowned from its open front
and commanded the entrance to the port.
The soldiery that occupied the big, roomy
and comfortable place found plenty of time
to smile at and flirt with the pretty girls
that daily crowded down to enjoy the salt
sea breezes that swept around the battery,
and the officers gave little balls and enter
tainments there until finally Fort Clinton
and its pleasant surroundings came to be
one of the show and fashionable centers
of the metropolis. The open space in
the neighborhood of the fort, now known as
Batterv Park, was one of the best litrhted
parts of the city at night, and was one of
the pleasantest and safest places for
promenaders, as sentinels from the garrison
were nightly detailed to keep order and
quiet among the hundreds that strolled
about every pleasant evening. The fort was
a favorite spot, the officers sociable and the
soldiers polite, so that the New Yorkers of
those days loved the big stone fortress and
the garrison the Government had placed
there.
Thintrs went alour auietlv for a. couple of
years, and the people at Washington not
finding any necessity for maintaining the
fort, and having Governor's Island close at
hand, moved the soldiery over the water,
and left the big fortress to the care and
keeping of a few old watchmen.
THE MUSIC HALL STAGE.
But Castle Clinton, as it began to be
called, was too nicely situated and a place
of too popular resort to allow a few rusty
cannon and a few venerable pensioners to
keep the public from enjoying the place and
its surroundings. So a company was formed
and a lease of the place obtained. It was
for a long time a sort of half beer garden
and half music hall. The low wall fronting
on what is now the old fortress was torn
down and iuBide the old lortress was fitted
up as a sort of amphitheater witb rows of
wooden benches that were for a long time
nichtlv thronsred bv the best ceonla of New
York.
It was the one place in New York that
would hold a crowd of a couple of thousand
people, and when Phincas T. Sarnum, in
1850, brought over the Swedish Nightin
gale, Jenny Lind, to this countrv, it was in
-Castle Garden that her sweet notes were first
heard on American soil. That was a great
night for the old fortress and incidentally,
of course, for the famous Baruum. Bon
fires blazed all around the wide and open
space about the garden, cannon boomed and
bands played while the stream of humanity
mounted higher and higher, until the old
fortress could contain no more. It was one
ot Barnum's greatest successes, and the old
hero of n thousand shows and of ten thou
sand farewell seasons still speaks of those
days as the greatest of his career.
JENNIE LIND CHANGED IT.
The singing of Jennie Lind in the, garden
gave it what it bad not possessed before a
certain operatic and theatrical character,
and from that day forth the: beer mug, the
sandwichtauLihe waiter wera-banished from
Its preefnets. 'In ISoTCastle Garden was
the really fashionable place of amusement
for the metropolis. In that year a season of
Italian opera was given in the garden with
the immortal Sontag as soprano, Salvi as
tenor and Badiali as baritone. It was a
serious venture, and the subscribers were
mightily puzzled to know how the big ex
penses of the season were to be met. New
York was not then much of a music-living
city; and $5 a ticket for a seat in Castle
Garden was a good deaL to ask of the boys
and girls In those days. The result, how
ever, was a complete success, and when. In
1852, the great Julien Orchestra gave a
series oi concerts in the garden the old for
tress was nightly packed from pit to dome.
But the stage at the garden finally had to
go. It was Thurlow Weed who first threw
out the snggcstion that the Commissioners
Should Secure Castle fiilrrton a lr,n,Im
place, where under cover and protection bv
its walls the friendless newcomer would be
prepared to step forth and search for a new
home. The project was kept quiet until all
the plans were perfected, and on May 6,
1855, the Commissioners of Immigration en
tered Castle Garden and opened it for the
reception, care-taking and protection of the
immigrants from foreign lands.
ITS PAST AND FUTURE.
Since that day it has gone on making his
tory for the country and sendinir out from
its .comfortable gates the thousands who
have helped to fill the land with sturdv men
and women. There must have been a" vast
difference in the needs and necessities of the
immigrants who landed at the garden in
those early days when compared with the
men and women who arrive there to-day.
The recordspf the garden show, for instance,
that in. 1859 the passengers from Glasgow
spent on an average 60 days on their
journey, those from Liverpool about 60
days, those from Hamburg 63 days and
those from Antwerp 80 days. Jubt
think of the horrors of the steer
age passage in the hold of a sailing
vessel for two long and weary months and
then picture if you can, the condition of the
immigrants when they reached the shores of
tneJNew world. To-day with the swift
steamer making quick voyages of seven or
eight days, the motley crowd that daily fills
Castle Garden needs all tbe attention that
can be given them, but in the days of the
long voyages thecondition of the new-comers
must have been pitiable indeed.
What will become of the garden?
Nobody knows. When the Federal Gov
ernment withdraws from it, the city will
resume possession of the old fortress and will
donbtless throw it open to all citizens, and,
tearing down the outer fences, will add
it to the already increasing beanty of Bat
tery Park. L. S. M.
TIIEXANGAR00&1IOE.
From tbe Outlook Bootblncki BIny ni Well
Born Their Kit.
Bt. Lonls Post-Dispatch. '
Shoe dealers say kangaroo leather is going
to be a favorite for shoes from now on, and
that the tan-colored shoe will come into even
greater favor this summer than it was last
year. The kangaroo shoe has always been
liked because ot its softness. It never hurts
the feet. But it never takes a good polish,
and then there is some defect in the leather
that makes it crock and wear into small
holes after a lew weeks. This year, however,
tbey have found a belter way "of preparing
the leather, and it is said to wear as well as
calf. Tan shoes everybody will wear this
summer, and the bootblacks will all burn np
their kits. The shoe needs no blacking, can
be kept neat by a little attention, is cheap,
cool and easy on the feet. A man would
have no more.
Superabundant Koowlrdcr.
Washington lost.j
One of the able habitues of the press gal
lery at the Capitol has a striking way of
putting things. Speaking of a Senator who
is noted alike for wisdom and long-winded-
ness, he raid: "Oh, Senator knows
lots; there's no doubf of it. The fact is, he
Jpnowa so much it's positively in the way."
W-J'iWfBWI .. I , ... lll i , ,
zJIIM JfWl WM WBITTEN FOB THE DISPATCH
III V ' ' I0n BT ELIZABETH
ll'l f Author of "Gates Ajar,'
l fe?- H e and the rev.
H!S; sj jl
CHAPTEB IX.
BARUCH'S LOVING PLOT.
It was dew-fall at Bethany. In the house
of Bachel, the widow, and Baruch, the blind
man, excitement reicned. A great event had
happened. Without theporcb, panting with
weariness, low upon a litter, lay a little
maiden, pale and frail, but peaceful as no
well maiden ever is. Ariella had been
brought over to visit Bachel, her neighbor.
She was to repaln until the morrow. Mala
chi and Barucb, with the help of a slave,
had borne the girl thither, and the same
hands would return her before another sun
set to her father's house. Malaohi had
grumbled over tbe job, which he held to be
an unnecessary tax upon a man's time and
attention, but Hagaar had said:
"Verily, you will never put yourself fca
better use. Give the girl her way." For
Baruch had dealt privately with Hagaar,
and urged the matter, taking no denial.
And Hagaar and Malachi bad returned to
their own dwelling, and Ariella lay upon
the litter withouVthe house of Bachel, beg
ging not to be carried within, till she must
needs sleep; for Ariella drank the air of
heaven as an Arab dying of thirst in the
desert drinks from the gourd held to his stif
fening lips.
On the way from the house of her father
to the home of Bachel, Ariella had suffered
acutely; every step of the bearers' jarring
tbe litter diffused agony through the poor
girl's body; but she had not said so. At
every glimpse of the living world she had
evinced the keenest delight. It was: "Ob,
father, the light! The light of tbe sun on
the fields! How broad a thin? is au after
noon! "Baruch, I sea hill of tulips; they run
dp a'nd down; they arered,like torch bearers
at a race.
"Mother, give me your hand. Lift my
head a little that I may look unto Jerusa
lem. "The Temple shiueth like the rising of the
day. In the Temple is the Ark. In the Ark
Go'd dvrelleth. The people go up; go uplike
prayer into the heart of Jehovah! Would
that I could see the Templet The brow of
Olivet lifteth between."
Ariella lay now upou the litter, herself as
mute as an exhausted prayer; the excite
ment of the day had sdnk into its reaction; the
thrill of joy bad fallen into the grip ot pain.
The invalid's hopeless consciousness of suf
fering returned lake the fall of night. Ari
ella's face became pinched witb anguish;
the lines about her mouth deepened like
'those'ifftheface of an old woman she was
but 26.
"Leave me to myself," she panted,
"Leave me, Bachel. Leave me, Baruch.
Weariness overcomes me, for tbe exertion
hath been great. Do not watch me nay, I
shall the better endure alone."
"But-Baruch cannot see thee," protested
matter-of-fact Bachel.
"Baruch watcheth the closer, for that,"
murmured Ariella. Baruch's sensitive face
flushed; he rose without a word and left
their guest. Bachel soon followed him as
the sick girl bade her; and Ariella had her
will sometimes the only one left to the
4 sick; she was alone with her agony.
The litter had been set down in a cool.
wide grass space in front of the house of
Bachel; "in something green," Ariella had
becgedf but it was too late in the season to
find the parched grass green. Behind her
the low house looked qniet and home-like;
the faint glimmer oi Kachel's single candle
shone upon the paved conrt and dull white
sand; Baruch stood in the doorway, a silent,
waiting figure; he seemed like a man who
expected something, and was patient and
impatient bv turns. Without, the darken
ing country looked to the imprisoned girl as
wide as all heaven. .Between the spasm ot
her pain she regarded it eagerly.
Eastward of her the road to Jericho, rough,
wild, dangerous and ragged, wound among
the hills. Ariella could mark the spot
where her misfortune had befallen her, nine
years aco. A caravan was winding past the
place slowly, the outline of the camels risiner
and falling, like the outlines of ships upon
a restless sea. The caravan was coming to
ward Jerusalem; the travelers were singing;
they sang tbe Psalms of Degrees. Beyond,
the Desert fit Judea stretched far and
frowning.
Turning her head, the sick girl looked
about the little hamlet of Bethany. The
Boraan fortress rose, a grim, firm fact against
which every Jewish heart revolted; the
houses of Ariella's people were built with
out the fortress line. Now and then, the
spear of a Boman soldier caught the dying
Hunt upon its tip.
Yonder against the mountain side sepul
chers showed, cut into the solid rock; these
were owned by the wealthier families of
Bethany. Ariella gazed upon their solemn
outlines quietly.
"JIv liio is a sepulcher," she said aloud,
"What doth it matter?"
A slitrht sound behind the head of Ariel.
la's litter attracted, bnt did not arrest her
attention. She could not see, or she h.id
not noticed that the figure of the blind man
had disappeared from the doorway. Baruch
stood behind an olive tree, and the olive
tree stood behind Ariella.
Now Ariella turned her head at this mo
ment to look fnrther downward to the south
east, where, far beyond her gaze, the somber
surface of the Dead Sea lay. One of the
..little freakish fancies ot the sick possessed
her. No person ever drowned in the salt
Dead Sea.
Oh, to be borne thither in her litter, and
sit afloat upon the strong water, and float
her li.e out on that soft bedl
"It would never hurt one's back," thought
Ariella. She laughed aloud at this conceit
of hers, and tried to move upon her pillows-
to raise nersen upon one arm and look: along
the valley till sight should be lost in the
purpling gloom. The effort caused her
such pain that she uttered an involuntary
groan.
Ariella' seldom groaned. This was a
downright uncomfortable cry of agony, and
fell pitcously enough irom the poor girl's
lips.
"Oh, Ariella!" cried Baruch, darting for
ward irom behind the olive tree. He stood
before her; he bent over her; he trembled
with sympathy the tenderest man or woman
had ever shown for Ariella.
"Ob!" moaned Barucb, "could I only see
how to comfort theel"
"You leel how," said Ariella, collecting
herself at once.
"If love could comfort," breathed Baruch.
'If love could heal
"Love helps,"said Ariella, "love serves."
"Men and women who are not afflicted of
God who love as tbey will, and do as they
would these are happy people. Ariella."
"We are not as they," said Ariella sol
emnly. Baruch stretched out bis hand, and
STUART PHELPS,
"Beyond the Gates,"
Eta,
HERBERT D. WARD.
Continued From Last Sunday.
groped for nera. It was now quits dark.
She could see no more than he. The sick
girl laid her hand In that of the blind man.
Both shook. Baruch bowed his face rever
ently above the poor little feverish hand.
He did not touch it with his lips. He did
not dare. After all he was a man. If he
had touched Ariella, he felt as if he should
have gone mad with love and despair.
"Is this Baruch, the old blind man?"
asked at that moment a wonderful voice.
Baruch did not start or release the hand of
Areilla. He held it like a man, and quiet
ly made answer.
"Yea, Lord, I am he."
"And the maiden, of whom thou didst
speak with me do I behold her?"
"Thou beholdest her indeed."
"Knoweth she that I am come?"
"Nay, Lord, she knoweth naught"
"Give space to me that I mav stand be
side her."
The voice which spoke was one of un
questionable authority. Ariella started
under it She looked np, frightened and
panting, through the dark.
"Be calm, Ariella, "said Baruch, quietly.
"He of whom I spoke to thee, is here."
"You arranged this, Baruch? you
planned to bring me here and told me
not!" There was a touch of reproach in the
girl's tone. She had fallen so thoroughly
into Baruch's loving plot that her first
sense of being deluded almost overpowered
any other consciousness.
"What I have done, I have done," said
Baruch firmly. "It becometh thee not to
distrust me, Ariella. It is not in thy power
to distrust Him."
Baruch pointed at the commanding figure
of their visitor, who. during this delay, had
stood both silent and still. The three mode
a singular croup the blind man bent
forward, eager, trembling, his whole body
straining as if to see; the sick girl panting
on the litter, and the solemn figure, mute as
fate, before them.
It was now so dark that Ariella could not
even see the familiar face oi Barucb, bent
so near and turned so tender!.? toward her.
Of the stranger she could perceive abso
lutely nothing except the outline of a grand
form; the manliest, the most authoritative,
she thought, that she had ever beheld.
The face of the man was wrapped in the
darkness of tbe summer nighC Ariella
struggled for a sight of it, but it was as dim
before her as the will of God.
Bachel had now come out of th house,
and finHing the three fallen upon an utter
silence, joined them herself without a word.
She stood behind the olive tree for a mo
ment, unseen then advanced and knelt
beside the litter, very near Ariella. Bachel
quite understood what was going forward,
lor Barucn had confided .in her. And
Bachel was one ot those who' trusted in the
,Nazarene.
ne seemeaaimost as if he were indefi
nitely strengthened by the presence of this
commonplace woman; as if she had added
faith or tbe material of power to the situa
tion. He moved nearer to the litter and
broke the oppressive silence: but it was
onlv to ask a simple question:
"Is this the mother of the maiden?"
"Nay, Lord," replied Bachel. "She is
my guest and the Inend of my afflicted son.
Baruch said that thou wouldst heal her."
Had it been a little less dark they could
have seen that the Nazarene smiled slightly,
as a man does who hears from children the
prattle o'f a knowledge already his own.
But his smile was as invisible to these
agitated people as the sun that had set be
hind Mount Olivet. The most powertnl
personality in Jndea presented himself to
these three souls only in the lorm of a
voice.
But what a voice! Ariella's nature rang
with it. It was as strong as the winds. It
was as sweet as love. It ran as deep as the
sea. It commanded the heart as heaven
commanded the earth; but it appealed to the
sensibility as tenderly as if one's regard
were a precious thing.
"Arienai saia the nazarene. He spoke
as never a man spake to the sick or to the
well. Ariella felt herself drawn upward,
soul and body, to the utterance of her name
by those invisible lips. It was as if the
very waves of ether, set in motion by his
voice, encompassed her; as the waves of the
sea encompass a sinking person who strug
gles upon them if so be he may swim for his
life. She felt herself lifted upon the sound;
it buoyed her; she bad a singular sensation
as if she began to float upon it.
"Yea. Lord," breathed Ariella. She up
turned her face to him through the dark.
Poor little wan, pinched face! how feebly
it moved. Ariella was in terrible pain.
The excitement and exertion of the day,
culminating in this agitating interview,
had almost overborne her. Despite herself
alow moan came from her lips. At the
sound tbe blind man fell upon his knees be
side his mother. Jesus and the sick girl re
mained, the two undisturbed actors in the
touching scene. Low, sweet, serene, and
commanding, came the accents of the Naza
rene. Ariella perceived that he did not in
quire concerning her faith in God his
Father; and in himself, the heavenly
Father's son; in his sympathy with human
misery; and his power to heal the diseases of
men; and he spoke to her also of his rela
tion to her own peculiar suffering. He said
these things in words so few that Ariella
knew not how it was he said them; but she
was aware of these thoughts, and of his de
sire to understand ber own state of feeling
toward himself. Above all else, she was
aware of the searching, scorching necessity
that she should speak the very truth albeit
that shonld sound discourteous or distrust
f ul towardtbe Stranger, who, overworn and
overworked, had traveled to Bethany at the
end of the hot dav's toil, to serve "an un
known sick girl, if he might or could. It
even decurred to Ariella that he was not
sure that he could heal her; and that his
effort was worth something more for this
very reason.
"Lord," said Ariella, "how can any heal
me? I have been sick so long!"
The Nazarene made no answer. He had
advanced, and now stood close beside the
litter; he stretched his hand out, and mo
tioned to Ariella through the dark that she
put hers within it.
"Nine yearsl" said Ariella, "I1 have lain
upon my bed for nine whole years. I suffer
very much. It is great pain. People do not
know about pain. It tires them to under
stand it. I try not to trouble people but I
am not a patient girl. I get worn out some
times. Lord, I am so tired tired out! tired
out!" Ariella began to sob quietly.
"Lord, my faith has grown sick like all
the rest of me. How can I be healed?"
"Lord," said the blind man, still upon his
knees, "my faith in thee is whole; it is sound
enough to give life to the maiden though she
did lie in the tomb."
"Baruch! Baruch!" cried Ariella. The
blind man was distressed. He thonght she
should have cried: "Lord! Lord!" But
Jesus only smiled thereat, in the darkness,
no one being able to see the smile.
"Ariella," said Barucb, "'giTe to him that
t
,-