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THE PITTSBURG DISPATCH
PAGES 17 TO 20TT
m THIRD PART. -
PrETSBUEQ-, SUNDAY, MBBUABY 23, 1800.
HOW HOTELS ARE RUN
The Chief Caterer and His
Corps of Assistants.
PROCEEDINGS ON MABKET.
Busj
Scenes in the Kitchen and Other
Departments.
iTHE WORLD TAXED EACH DAY
rwmiiur TOB TKX
DISPATCH.1
HE latter-day
moralists proiesi
to regard with
horror and con
tempt the lux
urious gluttony of
dead and gone
Heliogabalus.We
are deeply dis
gusted because the
epicures of Horace
dine on peacock's
brains, garnished
'with white snails
from the Cherso
nesus. "What
hideous folly I'
we wrathfully ex
cl aim "The
whole Boman
world ransacked
'its furthest limits
to supply a single
Csesar with a sup
per! It was mon
strous!" Hut iiave we ever paused to consider
thnt a far greater area is searched through
to find even a collation for our correcter
selves? And our dinners our luncheons
have we ever sought into their histories.
Had we done so we might hare learned.
thnt. whereas the petty world oi Pliny was v
SCENE IN A
more than sufficient to produce a magnifi
cent mealfortheEmperorofallthe Romans;
yet the great earth, as we know it, is barely
large enough to give a satisfying dinner to
the commonplace Pittsburg oil or iron man,
who spells at his menu, in the Hotel
Dnquesne. "Why every
CHINK AND CEANNT
of the globe is probed into for his benefit.
For him cracked that rifle across the
purple Scotch heaths, lor him plodded that
weary hunter through Canadian snows.
For him the plunging salmon was flashed
into sunlight from its frozen haunts; for him
the oranges of the South were plucked from
their bending branches. And there he sits
and sips his ca'e noir and cognac, patting
himself, metaphorically upon the back, and
exclaiming like the ingenuous youth in the
nursery tale: "Oh! what a good boy am L"
So doubt, if he knew anything about those
old rose-wreathed sybarites that the poet
sneers at, be would ieel intensely dis
gusted, like the excellent patriot that he is,
at their aristocratic appetite. But is the
appetite of our friend the oil man, demo
cratic? Some dav somebody will write the history
of a table d'hote Not to the iuscriber of
these sapient sentences is allowed that glori
ous task. But it is, however.permitted that
he should write a single chapter of the great
work. "The history ot the purchase of a
table d'hote in Pittsburg" will be the name
of that modest fragment
THE CHIEF CATEEEE'S JOTJENEY.
On a certain morning when winter had
jnst taken his departure and spring was still
ocenpied in fitting on her grass-green hose
behind the scenes, when the fickle sun shone
forth with illusive brilliancy and snipe and
plover were in season, on such a morning
there sallied from the portals of the Hotel
Dnquesne, M. Albert Menjou, chief of that
hotel's catering department. Very jauntily
M. Menjou strolled on down the" bustling
street; and the raiment of M. Menjou was
irreproachable. In the chiefciterer's button
hole blushed a red, red rose, and the heart
ot the chief caterer was as lieht as a leaf
thereof. Presently he arrived at a certain
well-tnown butcher's establishment, and
here halted to order loins and ribs lor his
guests. Very carefully was the meat
selected, about S125 worth being purchased.
Then M. Menjou, with a wave ot his jew-
eled hand, remarked: "Send it up to the
hotel, please, and see that it is sent jnst as I
ordered it."
The reader must note that this big order
of loins and ribs was not intended for use on
the dav just begun. "When it arrived in the
hotel, a little later in the morning, the store
rooms would receive it; and there, on ice, it
would remain until the following dav.
Every other eatable ordered in the morning
is used during the afternoon and night.
VEGETABLES AND EBTJTT.
When M. Menjou had finished with his
butcher, Jie sauntered toward the vegetable
and frnifinarket But little time was ex
pended on the vegetables, of which some 525
worth were ordered. The venders seemed
to know the caterer very well and to have
a wholesome desire to please him. At an
Italian's lrnit stall, however, there was some
difficulty and a little sharp bargaining.
Bananas, apples, oranges, pears, etc., were
purchased, and when the wrangling was
over and the price agreed on, M. Menjou
left directions as to the careful conveying of
the fruits to their destination and hurried
off.
Fish is not selected in .Pittsburg. It
comes hither from the great emporium, Hew
York; and Pittsburg caterers have to take
their chances as to its merits or demerits.
Jnst now Canada brook trout, Kennebec
salmon, lobsters, black bass, etc, are the
&tx in season, aud shoals of them are un-
Sacked every day. The next place visited
y M. Menjou was a game shop. Here he
became intensely particular. Duck, plover,
snipe and squab, all suffered a close in
spection, and many were rejected at once,
i
! SjS
-v;i aIIiam YmrA tint aafa affaT a aprlpit lt
tests. It looked as though the emissary
from the hotel waj about to buy up all that
was worth buying in the shop. Very few
birds, except those that had lived too long
before, or those whose plnmpness was not
un the mark, were allowed to hang from the
cruel books or to recline upon their marble
slab. This dealer in game seemed to under
stand M. Menjou perfectly when the caterer
BETECTED A BIED,
he did not attempt to dispute, hut merely
raised his eyebrows ever so slightly, and
produced another. After the game there
was an immense purchase in fowl, chickens,
ducks and turkeys were one after another
examined, talked over, rejected or bought.
"With the conclusion of the poultry and
game purchases, this portion of M. Men
jou's morning labors ended.
The caterer retraced his steps to the hotel
to superintend the arrival and storage of
the provisions. Through a back entrance
came the meats, the fruit, the game and
poultrv, the vegetables, and later, the con
signments Irom the depot. The last men
tioned consisted of fish, more fruit, and can
vasbacks from New York. Two men are
kept constantly employed at receiving the
food, and stowing" it away. But
at this point some idea should be given of
the staff, which in different ways helps M.
Menjou keep his catering going. First of
all, generalissimo of the forces is II. Albert
Menjou. Then come the head waiter, the
second head waiter and the third head
waiter, all of who'm are called in hotel slang
"captains." Besides these there are 24
regular waiters, who are divided into four
"watches," each watch containing six pen.
Then comes a number of assistant waiters,
called, curiously enough, "omnibus." That
is one department the department of
serving.
THE DEPABTMENT OP COOKING.
Of the cooking department the chef is
Prank Albrosim. Under him is a second
chef, a "broiler," a "garde manger," who
looks after the cold meats, salads, etc; a
"earde de nnit," whose name explains his
office; a "butcher," who does the catting up
of meat, etc, and six women cooks who do
miscellaneous work.
After the cooking comes the pastry de
partment. Isidor Hngele is chief of this
branch, and has at his command an ice
cream maker, a baker and a few assistants.
There are two storeroom departments that
of tbe storeroom lor immediate use, and that
of the general storerooms. Each of these
employs a few persons. Last of the depart
ments is that ot dish-washingl There are 12
girl dish-washers, but on special occasions
this number is largely increased.
All M. Menjou's men cooks and waiters
HOTEL KITCHEN.
hailfrom New York, but they have been
originally foreigners. The waiters are
obliged to be clean shaven, and cast appear
in evening dress after noon.
Down in the kitchen and pastry room of
everv hotel there is hnstle and haste all
through the day and far into the night- The
Dnquesne kitchen as a long room, divided
up themiddle by a table upon which a band
of white-robed, white-capped cooks are
dressing the various dishes preparatory to
introducing them to the fiery ordeal. Others
of the cooks are occupied at the great range
which runs along the further side of the
room. With fingers clutching the mystic
knife or fork, their sign of office, they watch
over their dish as a mothermight watch over
her child. At the upper end of the long
table lounges the chef,
LOOKING TEET DIGNIFIED,
and somewhat jealous of intrusion. The fe
male cooks fly hither and thither, making
themselves generally useful. Savory odors
fill the air and tempt the interloper to
In the Market.
partake of some of the chefs creations.
In every direction, around the kitchen it
would appear, as though there were store
rooms. Here milk and cheese are kept;
here ribs and loins, packed in ice, await the
"butcher's" knife; here game and poultry
hang in an Arctic atmosphere; heie the
flame-hued lobster, the crab and the tender
frog are in readiness for tbe summons to the
table. In all these storerooms one shivers
involuntarily. The change from the heat of
the kitchen to the cold air of the larder is a
very remarkable one.
1 ear at hand is the place where pastry
reigns supreme Here M. Hugele plans
and manufacturers his dainty confections,
and from hence has emanated many a morsel
dear to the palates of Pittsburg epicures.
Here, too, the baking goes on, and almost
every form and variety of the staff of life is
turned out
THE BUST DISHWASHEES.
The dishwashing room presents a busy
scene. A crowd of bare armed damsels
splashing in a long trough of smoking wa
ter, and rushing about with dishes, plates,
cups and saucers, receiving soiled china,
placing newly washed china to dry, and
sending clean china upstairs, fill the apart
ment with clatter. It is well that these
maidens have but little time to uplift their
voices in talk. Were they allowed to add
their clatter to the general uproar the noise
would become unbearable.
The dishwashing room is the last of these
belowstairi departments over which M.
Menjou's swav extends. Upstairs, In the
salons, he is also undisputed director of af
fairs. Thus he is enabled to buy the din
ners of the hotel, superintend their cooking,
and arrange the manner of their service.
Been an.
POKES IN LONDON.
Blia and Fall of tbe American Game Among
English Women.
When the game of poker was first intro
duced into England about ten years ago it
took an immediate hold of a certain set of
ladies in London, who, up to that period,
had been content to play whist every after
noon for stakes which, although not particu
larly low. were well within their means.
Poker, however, changed all this. The
stakes were gradually increased. "Flats"
who were not well acquainted with the
game were eagerly sought for and invited to
people's houses at a moment's notice. Need
less to say that very large sums changed
hands.
Ladies whose faces are well known on the
Heath at Newmarket, on the Lawn at Good
wood, and in the Boyal Enclosure at Ascot,
opened wide their doors to let in Tom, Dick
and Harry, and often the wives of Tom,
Dick and Harry, provided they would play
poker, and were not too well versed in the
art of "bluffing" and "seeing" blufls.
When once the novice had acquired experi
ence and a general knowledge of the game,
the invitations became less trequent, and he
or she, in poker parlance, "really sat too
tight," and had to be replaced by a more In
nocent victim.
Through several seasons the poker fever
raged. It mattered not to the ladies that
their houses gained such sobriquets as "the
hag's hell," so long as they could sit all day
with five cards in their hands and "straddle
the blind," or risk their last 5 note on a
"jackpot," These patrician ladies had all
the American slang ot the game at their
fingers' ends. It was such a delightful new
sensation for them, far tetter than racing,
because it lasted so much longer and was
less fatiguing. But there were a few peo
ple who always won,whiIe there were a
great many who always lost Gradually
the ladies quarrelled among themselves.
The meetings became less frequent, some of
the players were ruined, and others returned
to the race course
EOLES FOB SLEEPING.
Never Let Anybody Wake You, nor Retire
on Thrilllnu Llteratnre.
Bt. James Gazette.
How many hours sleep do you require?
As many as you can get. That is the gen
eral answer to such a question. No rule
can be laid down. Jeremy Taylor thrived
on three hours, and so does Cardinal New-
man. Mauy centenarians are contented
with five hours, bnt some ot them require
eight or nine. Unless you are afflicted with
a pronounced insomnia a thing widely
different from occasional, and even trouble
some wakefulness you are foolish to em
ploy any kind of narcotic drug. Bnt there
are two rules of sleeping which everybody
may adopt withont hesitation: (1) Never
Ut yonrself be awakened by anybody else,
but wait until you have slept out your
sleep; (2) Get up as soon as you are awake.
'If you follow these two rules, the hours of
sleep win very soon regulate themselves, it
you read yourself to sleep you should read
a heavy book, not a light one a book that
taxes and tires your brain, not one that stirs
and stimulates it. A dull book is good, a
stupid one is better. Some persons recom
mend a cup of beef tea just to amuse the
digestion. A country gentleman declared
that whenever he was afraid o'f a sleepless
night he used to invite the vicar of his par
ish to smoke a pipe with him. The result
was a deep and refreshing slumber.
BEEB A CENTUM OLD.
A Novelty Passed Ironnd at a London
Banquet by a Brewer.
Fall Mall Gazette.
At the monthly house dinner of the Lab
oratory Club, held at the Criterion Bestaur
ant last night, Dr. G. H. Morris, of Messrs.
Worthington & Co.'s, brewers, of Burton-on-Trent
read a paper on some beer which
was discovered walled up in the cellars of
that firm, and which was brewed in 1798.
It is believed that it was cellared on
the occasion of the birth of some
previous members of the firm. The beer
was tasted by the members of the club and
pronounced to be sound; it possessed no
bitterness but was brilliant, and its con
dition was rather of the quality of sherry.
The bottles in which the beer was found
have been pronounced by an expert to have
been those in use at the end of the last cen
tury. Dr. Morris, in t the course of his
paper, stated that a microscopio examina
tion ot the sediment caused him to suspect
the presence of a few veast cells still retain
ing vitality.
MOST HIT HOYING OBJECTS.
EocJUu Volunteers Aro Going to Stop
, Snooting at Ball's Eyes.
Bt. James Gazette.
The shooting competitions at the new
Wimbledon are to be put upon a common
sense basis. Marksmanship still counts for
much; of what use in the field is a man
who cannot hit a moving object? How
many of our volunteers, however many
prizes tbev may have won at Wimbledon
and elsewhere, could bring down their man
in the open field?
That is the pertinent question which has
induced the National Bifle Association to
decide that the competitions at Bisley shall
be made more military and more consonant
with tbe conditions of modern warfare.
There are to be a great many more competi
tions at moving and figure targets, and more
attention is to be paidto the very important
matter of volley firing. A few years of
these sensible and practical competitions
should enormously increase the effective
shooting power of the volunteers.
THE COENEE IN SARDINES.
It Will be More Difficult to Effect It Than
nt Pint Thought.
A grand international corner in sardines,
says an English newspaper, is the latest
piece of intelligence in business circles. The
announcement has caused anxiety in the
breasts of the poor folk who live on the
sardine fishery along the French Atlantio
seaboard, and tremble at the idea of their
bread being taken from them by a
band of Englishmen, Belgians and Germans
united together in a sardine syndicate. The
little fish in the tinned boxes is, as is well
known, chiefly caught all along the French
and Portuguese coasts. The headquarters
of the market is at Nantes, where the secret
of preparing and tinning the fish is well
guarded. On this account it will be diffi
cult to effect a monopoly or to transfer the
fabrication of the article to another port.
DAMAGES FROM THISTLES.
One Sinn 8ne Anotbcr Whose Lnnd Warn
Ttarro Hundred Yard Awny.
FaUMaU Gazette. I
An amusing case was heard yesterday at
Loughhorugh county court, where a retired
lawyer, named Giles, claimed 5 guineas
from a farmer.named Walker for damages
to his garden through thistles; It was stated
that Walker's field, 300 yards awav, grew
thonsand of thistles. the floss from which was
carried by the wind into Giles' shrubbery
and garden, being caught by the trees.
Giles said he had employed three men and
a woman pulling up the thistles. After
four hours' bearing the jury gave a verdict
for the plaintiff, assessing the damages at 3
guineas; The defense jeas that tbe thistles
grew on the surrounding land also.
SHAYING GREAT MEN.
Bill Nye listens to the Reminis
cences of An Historic Barber.
CUTTIHG COMMODORE VAHDERBILT.
The Executioner's Letter of Introduction
to a Slaughter House.
BARBETT AND DEPEW IN THE CHAIB
tWBXTTXX FOB THE DISPATCH.!
(3F T was in Chi-
"Vcago, theboom-
iing city along
whose busy
streets I had so
often wandered
and on the
banks of whose
brawling river
I had so oft
been bridged
that I met a
barber who
made a special
ty of shaving
eminent men.
I noticed that
my presence
did not seem to unnerve him as I had sup
posed it would, and that he held my nose a
good deal higher while shaving, my upper
lip than I had ever held it, even in the
bright and halcyon days when, as a little
boy, I wore a vest made over from other
garments of my father's handed down from
the dim and musty past.
He was a middle-aged man with a deep,
red eye, shaded by a clustering mass of eye
brow through which the lake breezes were
wont to sough. The 'other eye was in the
same condition. His hair had formerly been
a bright red.
Some was flowing and some had fled. I
thought of this sentiment whilst he was
shaving me, and when he had finished I
wrote it in his album for him.
He had an air of neglige and easynaiveite
and bon homme andcarte blanche, and wore
linen cuffs with edgings of iron gray. His
collar also had gray whiskers on it, and tbe
mane around the buttons of bis trousers
A Large, Sot Tear on My Bead.
needed roacbing. He was a man of fine
mold, and while he strained me to his
breast as he shaved under my chin I discov
ered that he carried a little asa'cetida in his
left hand vest pocket to keep off contagions
diseases, and also that he had a very lond
ticking watch of the American type, with a
revolntionary movement,
the Sad baebeb tvept.
At times he spoke almost sadly of the past
and of those he had shaved, who were now
in a land where full beards are worn almost
exclusively. Once, as he spoke of a states
man who had passed on and left us, he asked
me to excuse him as he wiped a large hot
tear from the top of my head. I said, "Never
mind; weep on, thou sad-hearted man. Be
lieve thine o'ercbarged orbs. It will do thee
good. I have wept in a barber shop many
a time myself. It does me good to see thee
do so now."
When he had recovered himself a little,
he wiped his eyes somewhat on a towel, and,
going into tbe clothes press lor a few mo
ments, where I heard him measuring out
some cough medicine, he Boon returned,
brightened up a great deal, he and his breath
both having gained a great deal of strength,
it seemed to me.
He said that he used to shave Commodore
Vanderbilt I asked him how tbe Commodore
was to shave. He said that he always got
shaved at home. "I used to go up every
morning and shave him at his home. He
left orders that I was to come to his room,
and there I would always find him in his
shirt sleeves. He rarely swore nt me, fear
ing that I might accidentally cut his cheek.
He frequently had soft boiled egg on the
end of his nose, bnt I never laid up any
thing agin him for that. You never can tell
where soft boiled egg will light. I even
fonnd soft boiled ezg on Mr. Beecher's chin
once, and he said it must have been there
all through one of his most searching ser
mons. You never know when you eat a soft
boiled egg whether the most of it went in
side on the lining of the coats of the stomach
or outside on the lining of yonr overcoat, or
in yuur ear or down the back of your neck.
THE COMMODORE LOST PATIENCE.
"One time, however, the Commodore
swore at me quite a good deal, I remember.
I had shaved him a little too close, and so
his face bled a little. Of course I had to
rub alum on it to stop the bleeding and it
made tbe old man quite smart for one of his
time of life. He got kind of hot, and told
me I could go away and never come back
any more. I told him I had a wife and
familv and I would like very mnch to stay.
" 'No,' said he, 'you cannot shave 'for a
biledowl,'or,'torsour apples,' or 'the ace
of spades,' or some such thing he said, I
know. 'But,' said he, 'I do not want to see
yonr family suffer. You have cut my face
so often now, you mullet head, and
then puckered it up with alum, that my
mouth stays open all the- time, and pretty
soon I willhave to pnt a gore into the back
of my neck, Go away from my house, and
never, never return, if you please. As I
said, I do not want your family to suffer,
and so I will give you a letter to a business
man I know down town, who will see that
you get a job at his place. Now go away.'
"He gave me the letter, and I opened it
careful so as not to cut tbe check, if there
was any into it. But there, wasn't any. It
was just a short letter. Itsaid:
Dear John This will introduce a barber
who lias been practicing on me for quite
awhile and patiently working his way up to a
position where now I Ieel like giving him this
hearty and earnest letter; to you. He has a
family depending on him, and anything yon An
find for turn to do around your justly celebrated
slaughter house will be duly appreciated by
Yours truly, O. vanderbilt.
P. a Let him try It first on the cattle that
are already dead. c. V.
"Did you ever shave anv other cele
brated people beside Vanderbilt sad me ?"
BABEETT IN THE CHAIB.
"Yes. I used to shave Mr. Barrett Law
rence Barrett, the great actor, when he was
in a hurry. He entered the shop rather
soft and glidy like, as if he was looking for
Julius Cesar, with a view to stabbing him
flST-Jiv I
x s m
at an earlv date. I would say, 'Good morn
inr,Mr. Barrett.'
"He would say, -Sirrah, I know thee
notl' He would then fold his arms, and,
with growing wonder and delight, look in
the mirror at tbe only man for whom he
ever showed a genuine respect and esteem
which nothing could shake. Then he would
take off his coat and fold his arms againand
throw back his head and try to look like the
man who acts as chief train dispatcher for
the solar system.
"'Larry, I would say, 'come off the
perch now. It is your turn, Mr. Branniean.'
"But he would rock back on his heels and
throw ont his chest and kind of skuff his
shoes on the floor like a tumbler that is
chalking his feet in the circus, a habit he
got when he was a bareback rider, and then
he would inhale and exhale his breath
quickly like a gentleman who has blown
ont the gas and is partially asphyxiated, but
wnicn really meant passion, so X under
stand, and then he would say:
" 'Hah! Swagger not, thou topless varlet,
thou unwhelked fly-up-the-creek. Salute
me not, thou pan-American stoughton bot
tle and tallow spatter on the brow of nature.
Avaunt; Shet upl Wilt thou forsooth pour
the ribald "Nextl" into the ear of Laur-r-r-ence
Bar-r-r-r-rette?'
LAWBENCB IS QUIET.
"I would then ejaculate 'Bats!' and he
would take a seat in the chair like a king
that is getting 4 a week to reirn through
one act and then take tickets at the door the
rest of the time. I offered him once a strop
to hold in his hand to reign with, but he
would not have it."
"Is he hard to shave?"
"No, he is quiet in the chair, and winks
perfectly natural. He is a real good fellow,
I think, if he would only try to forget that
he is sitting for a lithograph. When he gets
his head out of the iron head rest and is not
having his photograph taken he is first
rate."
"Who else did you ever shave?"
"I have shaved Chauncey M. ' Depew
once, but he did not know about it, or at
least I did not tell him who I was, and so
perhaps he would not remember me now.
He was very nice and quiet, and didn't
make me any trouble. He kept looking at
the clock while he was being shaved, and
said something over softly to himself. I
judged he was going out to dine somewhere.
I asked him if he wasn't Mr. Depew, and ho
said he was. Then I asked him if he ever
heard about the tramp that called at a farm
house on Fifth avenue to get something to
eat He said so. he had not. Well, there
was nothing to it, only it seems that once a
poor tramp, with clam shells in
HIS EICH BEMBBANDT BBABTI
and chicken feathers in his nut brown hair,
called at a quiet farmhouse on upper Fifth
avenneand asked for food. 'Odds bodkins,'
exclaimed the farmer's wife, as he came to
the door, Vyon are indeed in a sorry plight
And bow long since you tasted food?'
" 'Four days,' said the tramp, catching
madly at the waistband of his trousers just
in time, for he had no suspenders, 'four
days I have been without lood, and four
nights I have slept in a railroad culvert
with nothing over me but a first and second
mortgage and a right of way. I have a col
lege education and an angel mother. Give
me a crust, lady, or a little plum duff, lady,
and God will reward you. For three days
I wandered aimlessly around on the site of
the World's Fair trying to find my way to
the settlements. On the fourth day I came
upon a habitation and tried to get a bite.
There was only one bite at this house, and a
large mauve, colored bulldog got that.
Lady, will you give me of your bounty, or
must' I ask you to look the other way while
I pass out at the gate aud go away?'
"The good woman could not resist this ap
peal, and so she got soma crullers and cold
cabbage with vinegar onto it Also a glass
oi milk and a cold sausage. The poor tramp
took it and was about to conceal the whole
thing in his whiskers, when the good lady
said, 'You onght at least to ask grace and
give thanks before you eat yonr food. Let
me beg of you to ask a blessing before you
eat' 'That is all right in theory, lady,' ex
claimed the tramp as he absorbed the sausage
and drained his glass, 'but it does not work
well in practice. Me and Chauncey Depew
always talks better after we've et
"Who else have you shaved?"
MB. EVABTS' CHAEACIEBISTICS.
"Well, I have shaved Mr. Evarts. He is
a kind hearted old gentleman, with a skin
that hangs around bis throat like the seat of
an elephant's trousers around a baby ele
phant. 'He is a genflenSan, every inch of
him. He does not talk much with barbers,
though. He is a thoughtful man, but does
not dress well. One day he wanted me to
brnsh his hat I brushed it the wrong way
fcr him. He did not know the difference,
but gave gave me a quarter and went out.
One day I tried to show off to him, and
while I was shaving him. I spoke of the
beautiful spring weather and coated from
the poet: 'Ob, what is so rare as a day in
Jnne?'
"He said that some days in March was a
good deal rarer, for he'd seen 'em when they
was almost raw. He is a wag, Mr. Evarts
is. He can think of more puns than any
body. He is really a wit ol the old school,
but he is bard to shave, and when you get
latber up his nose his remarks are almost
cruel at times."
The historical barber then powdered my
high, intellectual Adam's apple and I came
away. Bill Nye.
HAD DROPPED HEB NEPHEW.
Greenwich I.aillei Not Overly Careful
of
Such Trifle a Born.
A Greenwich lady, says a London news
paper, while leaning against the parapet of
the embankment and gazing at a passing
steamer with tbe soul-filled admiration of
ail Greenwich ladies for all passing
steamers, became conscious that she had
dropped somethinginto the river. Her bag,
parcel, handkerchief and umbrella all an
swered "Present" as she mentally called
the roll, and it then became probable thnt
the thing she had dropped was a nephew.
A careful inspection of the water below
established tbe accuracv of the surmise, the
nephew being outward hound in a topsy
turvey state ot collapse, making rapidly for
home with the tide. Before the constable to
whom she later mentioned tbe matter could
have interfered the water would have dis
solved all the existing earthly relations ofjthe
missing article had "hot a pierman swum out
and rescued him. It is clearly evident that
Greenwich ladiea should not be allowed to
have nephews unless they are tied to them ,
with a stoat string.
' '"'SmXy zr
'-''4r
a
Only One Site at This Home.
IDEAS OF CULTURE.
Boston Women Are Introducing Their
Minds to Philosophy
AHD HUMBUGGING TBEMSELYES.
One
Enthusiastic Lady's Hard Straggle
With & Tolame of Fichter.
MBS. ALEXANDER SULLIYAN'S TALES
rCOBBXSFONPSSCX OT THE DISPATCH.!
Boston, February 21. Of all the com
plex products of modern civilization, it is to
be doubted if there is anything more aston
ishing or more inexplicable than that thing
which the Boston woman calls her mind.
Boston men, as a rule, do not take the
trouble to assert their possession of anything
of the sort, and if they have a mind simply
use it and say nothing about it; but the
Boston woman has her mind on her con
science, so to speak,
It would be interesting to know just where
the Boston woman draws the line between
amusement and cultivation, if indeed she
draws it anywhere. She mixes lectures and
receptions, study classes and luncheon par
ties so thoroughly and with such an air of
looking at them from the same point of view
that one cannot tell whether she takes every
thing so seriously or looks upon all so friv
olously. At the present moment the Mind it
should always be spelled with a large M is
given in about equal proportions to the
Greek play, to luncheons and afternoon
teas, ana to philosophy. The luncheons are
dreadful festivities, chiefly confined to the
fair sex, which last for abou't three hours,
have as many courses as a dinner and com
pletely spoil not only the day but the even
ing; of the Greek play there is more to he
said when the time comes; and the philoso
phy is in the shape of lectures. In the first
place Prof. Boyce, of Harvard, has been
lecturing in drawing rooms about Spinoza
and other distinguished and distinctly in
comprehensible philosophers. He has un
doubtedly taught mnch, and one of the re
sults has been tbe quickening of an intense
desire to master or, as I am speaking of
women, should I say to mistress? all
knowledge.
A STBUGCH.E WITH TICHTEB.
"I was so fired by the lecture one day,"
a Boston woman said, "that I went straight
to the library for a volume of Fichter. I
was determined to know all there was in his
philosophy to know, bnt I thought I would
begin with a small volume 'first I asked
the librarian for the smallest volume on
Fichter she had, and she gave me a little
book that looked as though a baby might
master it, it was so small and so pretty.
Bnt tbe viciousness of that volume I cannot
begin to express to you. I sat down with it
one nlcht. and I could not comprehend the
first word. It was worse than a nonsense1
rhyme, and it wasn't half so amusing. But
I said to myself: 1 have taken it in the
evening when my brain isn't clear.' Bnt
the next morning when I tried it, it was
more incomprehensible than ever. I said to
myself that ignorance was on the whole
preferable to idiocy, even in Boston; and I
mildly bnt firmly carried the Bmall book
back to the librarypind now I listen to the
lectures as if they were not really meant to
be understood but only to he Enjoyed as
music. They are charming on that basis."
Prof. Louis Dyer is also givine lectures to
the fashionable Boston women, and the con
versation at the lengthy luncheons aforesaid
turns upon lofty subjects which the mascu
line head reels merely to hear mentioned.
The women are as grave about it as children
over the make-believes of their childish
sports. They might really be in earnest for
all one could tell from their manner.
A WESIEBN QIBL'3 OPINION.
"I am afraid I should never do for Bos
ton," a clever Western girl said the other
day. "I have frivolous moments even while
the discussion of the universe and the ulti
mate end of man was goine on. I even let
my frivolous attention become absorbed in
the exquisite flavor of an entree or a salad
while I am hearing the deepest truths of
philosophy discussed at an intellectual
luncheon.
"You forget," she was answered, "that
philosophy has no truths; it has only
theories, but laying that question aside, it
is to be inferred from what you say that you
must really be a Bostonian changed in your
cradle. Your attitude is precisely that of
the Boston woman, except that she con
sciously and deliberately lets her mind
wander. Once a discussion is started in
which she does not have to bear a part, she
deliberately turns her mind out to grass and
lets it run its unregenerate course. Her
only care is to preserve an outward sem
blance of attention; and for assuming a
comprehension and an enjovment in topics
in which one has not the slightest interest
or understanding, the Boston woman is prob
ably without rival in the world."
"How perfectly nastv," the Western girl
protested. "Now',I think the Boston women,
mind and all, are delightful."
EVEN HUMBUGS HEBSELF.
"Delightfull" her interlocutor echoed.
"They are without equal in the world.
'They are enchanting. Most women can
humbug men, out tne .Boston woman can go
to the length not only of humbugging
women, hut of accomplishing the doubtful
feat upon her very own self. She is not
only delightful, bnt she is superb."
It is not alone the mind that receives at
tention in Boston. The great handicap
meeting, under tne auspices ot the .Boston
Athletic Association, which is tbe athletic
section of the Athletic Clnb, showed that
the beginning bad been made of the
progress of Boston toward annual games
which may in time become as famous and as
honorable as those of Greece.
On Monday afternoon of this week Mrs.
Margaret Sullivan, the wife of Mr. Alexan
der Sullivan, ot Chicago, spoke in the par
lors of Mrs. Clara Erskine Clement Waters,
so widely known as a writer upon matters of
art. The subject was the Irish question,
and an invited company, includuag a num
ber of people of note in life or in literature,
came together to Hear. Mrs. Sullivan spoke
warmly and eloquently, and it was evident
that she won the hearty sympathy of her
audience. Mrs. Sullivan's familiarity with
the subject, with her clearness oi statement,
could hardly have failed to produce a deep
impression. '
SHE DIDN'T INTEND IT SO.
Astorv which is apropos of nothin? is told
hero at tne expense of the wife of the Presi-
dent oi a prominent w esiern railroad, it is
to the effect that when Mr. Charles Francis
Adams was chosec President of the South
ern Pacifio-road he chanced to call upon the
lady in question, who was at the time in
Boston.
"I do not know just what lam to do, Mrs.
P.," he said, in reference to his new dignity.
"Sometimes it seems to me that I am only a
sort of figurehead, for ornament rather than
for use."
"Yes," she assented, "that is exactly what
my husband was saying yesterday."
And it was not until after Mr. Adams had
gone that the lady reflected that it was jnst
possible that the guest had not understood
that her husband's remark had reference
only to himself and not to Mr. Adams.
Ablo Bates.
Chambeelain's cough remedy can al
ways be depended upon and is pleasant and
safe to take. There is not tbe least danger
in giving it to children, as it contains no in
jurious substance. Large bottles GO cents;
family size $1. wsu
JslfMJ wll WRITTEN FOB THE DISPATCH
nn . mm
& I II m B"x" ELIZABETH STUART
1:1 I WMSi Author of "Gates Ajar," "Beyond the
' PP5T B B AND THE REV. HERBERT D.
M I'll
CHAPTER XIIL
ALONE IN THEIB LOVE.
When Lazarns came forth from Gethsem
ane, the garden of Amos, his heart was sore
and tender with remorse and withlove.His
feeling toward the Nazarene rose into ardent
longing, and he made all haste at the first
possible moment to meet the generous and
forgiving friend, whose attitude toward him
self was oneof such nobility and fidelity. The
opportunity did not arrive until the evening
on the second day thereafter, when the hour
of evening prayer found Lazarus actively
searching for Jesus in his usual haunts at
Jerusalem. The search was unsuccessful. In
the course of it Lazarus happened to come
upon John the fisherman, who informed him
quietlv, somewhat coldly, Lazarus thought,
that his Master journeyed to Tiberias, whither
he himself should follow with other disci
ples of the rabbi upon the succeeding day.
It did, indeed, occur to Lazarus that he
might go to Tiberias himself; but at that
precise time came tbe order from the
High Priest to improve the villa at Caper
naum. Lazarus responded without a moment's
hesitation. ,
Thus again had fate, or that movement of
our natures to which we are apt to give the
comfortable name of fate, interposed between
the young man and the teacher whom he
idealized and neglected, revered and
.grieved. Now in this tremendous paomeat
in night, and storm, and wreck, and in the
face of death, the two had met and yet had
met not Lazarus had not even seen the
countenance of his friend; it was so dark,
and his own eyes so dimmed by those tears
that come of seaward gazing and straining.
He had only felt that benignant and
wondrous presence as one mizbt feel the
passing of an angel in the darkness. Jesus
himself had not spoken an audible word.
Lazarus fancied that his breath came quick
ly, either in agitation or from exhaustion;
but he was so used to associating the Naz
arene with the signs of power, achievement,
and self-possession that it was difficult for
him to attribute these indications of effort
and pathetic sensitiveness to that mysterious
personality.
At any rate, whether aggrieved or rebuk
ing, whether in tenderness or in displeas
ure, the Nazarene had gone.
The first movement ot Lazarus, it must he
admitted, was toward Zahara. To discover
whether she still lived this instinct domi
nated everything. He caught her delicate,
wet hand in his; it dropped heavily at her
side. He bent above her, reverently daring
to pnt his ear upon her sacred breast; her
heart beat weakly, but steadily enough,
like the heart of a strong girl whom shock
and shipwreck do not easily kijl.
"She lives 1" murmured.Lazarus. "She
is saved. Zahara lives 1"
Then, to his credit let us record it of him,
before Lazarus made another effert in behalf
of Zahara he did make one to recall his
friend.
"Master 1" cried Lazarus, "Lord, retnm
to me 1 Beturn ! Stay with me but a mo
ment, Babbont, that I may worship thee,
thou Hope of Isreal 1"
Bnt the solemn movement of, the oleanders
against the dying wind was the only answer
which the young man received. Jesus did
not return.
The storm was now abated, as suddenly as
it had arisen. The wind had sunk like a
whipped hound. Tbe waves were restless
still; but that pathway of light upon which
the mystical vision ot the Nazarene had
trodden widened slowly, broadened sol
emnly, until it lay upon the Jake like holy
oil, and quelled it Whatever might be the
fate of Zahara's companions in the little
. pleasure boat, Lazarus did not ask; iimnst
De owneu tnai ne naa iorgouen to care.
Zahara breathed. Zahara lay at his feet, a
lovely, sobbing, living "woman, coming to
her senses with all sorts of pretty frights
and signs of distress that drove every other
consciousness from his nature.
It was night It was solitude. It was
Zahara. No hand could snatch her from
him now. Neither gods nor men could rob
him of that one hour. It was his own.
"Lazarus," moaned Zahara, "am I
drowned? Are we dead together, thou
and I?"
"By the shade of Abraham! thou livest
and we are together," cried Lazarus. "And
which is the greatest miracle, I cannot tell
thee, for I know not Tell me,
Zahara, art thou hurt? Dost thou suffer
pain? How can I comfort thee?"
"I am very wet," said Zahara, "and it is
terrible, and I suffer such fright as might
kill a woman; bnt I will be stronger than
my fright I 'hall arise and get me to my
father."
She struggled to her feet and stood before
the yonng man for an instant full :n the
starlight Her superb form shone through
her wet drapery, which clnng to her from
neck to ankles. Lazarns looked up at her
from the sands where he knelt at her feet
His brain -whirled. Beautiful creature!
He held up his hands to her. Zahara
tottered.
"Help me, Lazarus," she said faintly, "I
cannot walk alone. Help me homeward,
for I would fain "
What would Zahara fain have done? She
never told him. Lazaius never asked.
Still kneeling, he lifted his appealing arms;
and Zahara, like a princess, stooped to them.
He caught her and drew her gently down.
She did not struggle with him. She came
right royally it strong surrender, womanly
and wise. It was as ii Zahara scorned to be
coy and to play with a love which was great
enough to conquer her.
"Lazarus!" she murmured," I am alive
and I love thee!"
"And -we are alone, and Hove theel Come
to me, Zahara, for I would shelter thee."
Zahara came. He gathered her to his
arms, to his shoulder, to his breast slowly,
delicately, alraid, not of men or of angels,
but of his own passion and of the maiden's
holy nature. The queenly girl crept to him
as gently as the meekest woman of them all.
Dark as it was, he closed his eyes instinct
ively, that he might for the supreme
moment see nothing, not even the
dim ontline of her yielding form and
drooping races that he might only feel tbe
timid motion of her round arm as it stole
around his neck, the approach of her velvet
cheek to his own, her fragrant breath upon
his beard, the delicate pressure of her pure
heart the ecstacy of her surrendered lips.
Presently he would look at her. One sense
at a time was enough; how could man bear
too manifold a joy 1 To touch her that was
Eden. That first embrace be chose in sacred
darkness.
"Now would I behold thee,
sow would I look upon thy face. I would
?aze into thine eves, for thev are mine. I
would feed my sight upon thy lips, fori
PHELPS,
Gates," Eta
WARD.
IConttnued Trom Last Sunday.
have kissed them with the kisses of my
mouth and made them mine, and mine I
make them 1"
He held the maiden away from his heart
and snatched her back again; he clasped her
till she was fain to crv ont for sweet pain,
and then to nestle to him as if she would be
clasped and hart again.
"A blight upon the night, that it is too
dark to. see the glory of thy face, my own.'
"Were it not dark, then were not we to
gether, oh, my lover. Cnrse not the gloom
that gives me to thine arms. Why, Lazarus.
I am happy to be herel Dear, my lord. I
love thee."
"I bless the night, I bless the storm, I
bless tbe wreck, I bless the dark and thee,
I bless, Zahara. I clasp thee. I kiss thee
I enfold thee and I worship thee."
"Lazarus?"
"Zahara!'.'
"I must depart. I must return. I must
get me to my father"
"Zahara, thou must stay, thou must re
main, thou must rest upon my heart."
"How long, my lord?"
"Till I release thee."
"That must be immediately, sweet sir."
"That shall be when I elect, fair lady."
"Thou art a Herod. Thou playest tyrant
with a maiden."
"If thou art not happy of such tyranny
thou art as free as the bird that flieth above
thetreetop."
"Zihara?"
"What wouldst thou, Lazarns?"
"Thou answer me not Wouldst thou he
free of me? Itebellest thon against thy
Herod? Then leave me. Go, Zahara. By
the oath of Isaac, who did honor and love
Bebecca, I stay thee not, if thou misllkest
thy tyrant WouId3t depart, Zahara?
Wouldst thou go Irom me?"
"Nay, then, Lazarns. For I cannot"
"I constrain thee not Seel My arms
release thee. Why dost thou not escace
them?" P
"Dear, my lord. I have said it I go
not, because I cannot A power greater
than the force of a man's arm constraineth
me. Nay, I escape not"
"Name the name of this power, Zahara?"
"Behold, I know not, Lazarus. Perhaps
men call it love."
"Zahara! Princess! Bright Onel Shiningl
Thou dearcstl Thou divineistl I clasp thee.
I control thee. Thou nestlest to my heart
like a little slave."
"Behold mel I am the slave of my love,
and thou art its lord, and mine. Lazarns!
Be unto me as thou wilt and what
thou wiliest, that I am to thee. I
love, thee!"
With kisses that blotted out life and
death, and heaven and earth, and law and
consciousness, he sealed those womanly
words upon her warm uplilted lips. When
from the hindrance of ecstasy his breath re
turned to him, and the voice thereof, he
sought to try the maidem what should be
the meaning of her soul to him?
"Zahara, thou knowest me what I am
Lazarns the builder, an bonorableinan; but
thou art tbe daughter ot the High Priest
Thine am I utterly and always. What art
thou to me and to the desire of my heart,
for it is mighty? Man and woman born of
one rank and unhindered of their will these
wed bnt that thou wouldst not Thou
couldst not stoop to me."
"I have said it," whispered Zahara tim
idly. "What hast thou said? The ears of my
soul are deaf. I am stunned with joy. Lov
est thou me, Zahara enough for
that?" 6
"My lord, behold thine handmaid.
Beit
unto me as thou electest
So said Zahara; not inaudibly, but in a
strong, sweet voice. She lifted her face
from the breast of her lover, and threw her
fine head back that she might regard him,
or try to regard him through the dart. For
a moment silence, sweeter than speech, suc
ceeded to her incredible words. Delirious
with delight, Lazarus leaned toward her.
She drew away from him a little in a kind
of sadden terror, whether of him or herself
or of the thine; which she bad said. Then
slowly she thrust back her head, till it sank
lower and lower still upon the palm of his
outstretched hand. Thus she lay, with her
trembling face uplifted humbly, and thus
he, bending over, kissed her on the mouth,
eyes, cheeks, throat, arms and throbbing
heart
"Neither Annas nor any man shall say
me nay" vowed Lazarus, "but I will have
thee to wife."
A few men and women know for one hour
in their lives, and only one and most of us
at no time moments such as came that night
to this youth and maiden, cast by accident
into that precious solitude which they
wrested from fate as his treasure. In an age
and state of society where honorable mea
and women may converse without a witness,
the rarity and value of that meeting be
tween Lazarus and Zahara can hardly be ap
preciated. Who can blame them that they forgot all
else but each other saving the reverence of
their grwt love? The storm, tbe shipwreck;
the rescue, the rescuer, the poor serfs, floated
to who knows what fate7 the old man agon
ized on the distant shore these were as if
they were not to the lovers. Was not Zahara
drenched through all her pretty, flimsy
clothes? She tbonght not, knew not cared
not Was she not chilled to the heart, and
shivering with cold?
"Nay, my love, thou warmest me. Thine
arms are robes and cover me. Thy lips ars
flames of fire, and I do shelter me thereat.
Thou commandest, and I am at ease. Thou
breathest upon me and I am strong."
"Thou lovest me, and I am defied!" cried
Lazarus.
Ah, then arms meet and lips linger, and
vows were breathed and longing whispered,
and hope and desire, and reverence and rap
ture, sway and control the loving, to whoa
this snatch of joy may be the first, the last
the only concession that they can wrest from
fate. How long they stayed in that deso
late, storm-swept spot neither of these two
lovers ever knew. Zahara cams to herself
first, and drawing, one might say wrench
ing, her lips away from his that pressed
them almost too long, almost too madly
she gently nnclasped his fingers from her
yielding arms and staggered to her feet
"This time," said Zahara, "I shall go."
"One more," pleaded tbe lover, "one
little moment more."
"My poor old father!" said Zahara.
"Wouldst thou love me better. Lazarus, If I
forget him altogether? All this time while
we have been so happy he mourneth for me
as among the dead. Shall I be the better
wife to thee, my lord, for being so poor a
daughter?"
Lazarns. at these dear words, yielded ut
terly. Without further protest he tool:
Zahara home at once, as he should have
done hours ago. The walk was long; bless
edly long. The maiden smiled thereat
Though now, exposed to the night wind, sh
did hegin to feel the effect of her shipwreck,
she Bade no complaint, LaasjiajwrappeJ