reaT w'Bssr JlfTi Sh HI mMff wM "" flFV TW55fW l-ggg-l liib' r MOQDY AHDSJU1KEY. The Reported Quarrel Financial Matters. Oyer BOTH PUT IN A DENIAL. Separation Due to Failure of San toy's Yoice. 10,000,000 GOSPEL HIHNS SOLD icoRREsroirozxcx or Tire DisrATcn-i New Yoke, April 5. BE famous revivalists, Dwight Lyman Moody and Ira David Sankey, have dissolved partner ship. Mr. Moody has for a month been laboring in New York and near it, but, instead of Mr. i , Sankey, the singing has ' been done by several dif ferent vocalists. These persons have been on trial, 'with a view to their valne and availability as new partners with the evangelist jn his future work. A large number of sufficiently excellent singers have applied for the place, but not only is right voice and vocal method required, but the individual must be an earnest, sincere Christian. The assertion is current in religious cir cles here that Moody and Sankey have parted under unfriendly conditions and for merely sordid reasons; but both of the gen tlemen are ingenious in their efforts to have the world understand that they are friends still, and propose to remain friends forever. It is granted that they have not appeared on the same platform since October of last year. This, however, does not imply that these world-circling evangelists have no longer any thoughts in common, nor that they no longer find any congeniality in each other's society. A recent incident alone in the lives of these men must stand as strong cir cumstantial proof of itself that they are yet friends. And still what an insignificant, inconsequential circumstance after all! Simply the breaking ot bread by both at the same table. DISPOSAL OP THE PROFITS. The belief by some folks is that they separated because of a disagreement about the profits arising from tbe publication of that enormously circulated song book, "Gospel Hymns." A more specific cause of tbe disagreement was even whispered. It was that each utilized his share of the great profits of the Moody & Sankey liymnbook in so widely different a manner as to cause contention. Mr. Moody was said to be con scientiously devoting his share largely to the several religious and charity institu tions which he has founded, while Mr. Sankey was intent upon acquiring a fortune for himself. Experience has convinced the writer that it is harder to learn of the disposition which a successful evangelist makes of his money than it is to predict the price of certain rail road stocks six months hence. Difficulties confront you upon every side when you set out to solve the first problem. So they do in the latter, bat then, in time, you will get an answer. And it may be satisfactory to you, and it may not But evangelists, for the most part, dislike to talk about money matters. So when your correspondent started on the particular mission of ascer taining who was the more charitable man of the two, Mr. Moody or Mr. Sankey, and, in the event of one being less charitable than the other, if that fact could be accept ed as a basis for the supposed separation between them, it was found that the task re quired a trained diplomat. A TALK -WITH MOODY. Mr. Moody had labored an hour longer than usual at the Collegiate church, in this city, when he was gsntly questioned on the several problems already referred to. He was extremely gracious, and he talked un hesitatingly. "My religious and charitable institu tions?" said he interrogatively. "Well, there are four now that I am particularly interested in: The Young Ladies' Seminary st Northlield, Mass.; the ML Hermon School for Young Men at Mt. Hermon, Mass., and two similar institutions in Chicago." "These you founded and they are still maintained by you, Mr. Moody?" was asked. "Yes, I founded them, but a body of trus tees has charge of the maintenance of all four of these institutions." "Hone of these schools, then, was the out come of the efforts, conjointly, of Moody and Sankey, but of yourself, individ ually?" "Yes, they are the result of my own labors." "And, If you " please, Mr. Moody, what institutions has Mr; Sankey founded?" "Oh! (musingly) none that I'm aware of. But (hastily) his money is.in these schools. Oh! yes, his money is in them." Here was a capital opportunity to clinch Dwighl Lyman Moody. tbe real question or the hour, and in fact the nub of the interview. The querist clinched, something after this style: DENIES THE -WHOLE STORY. "Mr. Moody, has a separation occurred between Mr. Sankey and yourself because of wide differences of opinion regarding the proper methods of disposing of your in comes." "We have not separated. It is absolutely untrue." ... ... "The supposition has got abroad that Moody and Sankey have parted company because Mr. Moody sees fit to disburse his dollars in a 'avishly charitable manner in support of several religious institutions, while Mr. Sankey studiously avoids sup porting any institution, and is religiously increasing his own fortune handsomely enough." "That is not so," replied Mr. Moody. "It is entirely incorrect, Mr. Sankey is a most generous benefactor of any worthy religions institution, and especially has he befriended and aided in a most substantial way the schools which I have already named to you." "How do you account for the report that you and he have quarreled and separated?" "I suppose it's because we haven't been together. As a matter of fact we haven't worked together since October last. Mr. Sankey had tbe grip and his voice couldn't stand the strain of four or five meetings a day. You know very well that a man's vnW ftt TA Tun nf .mi far different from IV.W -- J- -- -(., M . . WJL B&3 VHP what it was at 30 years. We used to an nounce 'Moody and Sankey' for several meetings a day, but Mr. Sankey would be unable to appear at some of them, and the result would be great disappointment BASKET CAX'X STAlfD THE STRAIN. "This naturally used to detract very appre ciably from the interest in the meetings. So nowadays we don't announce Mr. Sankey and nobody is disappointed. Mr. and Mrs. Needbam are singing at our meetings just now. Physically. Mr. Sankey cannot bear the severe'strain of four and five meetings daily and that is why he is not laboring with me in this series of revivals. It is dif ferent with me. I can preach at half a doze' meetings every day and do it right PJ ej wfSal Ira D. Sankey. along. If I cared only to hold one service daily, of course that would make it very easy for Mr. Sankey. We should announce his name to the public and then he wouldn't disappoint anyone. It docs not do to say that 'Moody and Sankey' will conduct evangelical services at such and such a church, and have Mr. Sankey fail to respond, leaving only Moody to appear. That is the only reason why we are not at, present together. We have had no disagreement Mr. Sankey took lunch with me only a few days ago at the Pars: Avenue Hotel. For the last five years the report has spread over the country that we bad quarrelled and fallen ont. We haven't, and, what's more, we're not likely to." Mr. Moody's manner was perfectly calm and unruffled. There was naught in his bear ing orspeech that did notindicate a complete confirmation of his story. Had the two evangelists been the bitterest of enemies you never could have discovered the fact by any thing that Mr. Moody said or did. The newspaper man did not dwell upou the sub ject of a possible hitch in Moody and San key's heretofore amicable arrangements. BASKET'S EVIDENCE NOT NEEDED. Mr. Sankey was not in the immediate vi cinity of New York. It wasn't at all neces sary to have his corroboration, for such it surely would be, of Moody's explanation. The latter is the execntive officer of the two. He has always done all the talking. Mr. Sankey has enjoyed no sinecure as the vo- JTorthfleli Seminary Frederick Marquand Memorial Ball. calist of the pair. His work has been hard and he feels the ill effects of it now, as wit ness his voice, which grows husky and throaty even after a couple of services of song. Mr. Moodv himself says this is so. It was a significant fact that while Mr. Moody was demonstrating that Mr. Sankey and himself were still the very best of friends, he carefully refrained from promis ing in any way that they would be associ ated together in the future. The intimation was plainly given that Sankey had lost his ' magmheent voice, ana, pcriorce, mucn ot his old-time effectiveness as a revivalist When Mr. Moody was questioned as to the sales of "Gospel Hymns." he quickly replied: "I was about to say that I know no more about it than yourself. I really couldn't tell you, for the entire business i's in the hands of a committee of a dozen or 15 gentlemen, who are trustees of the insti tutions in Massachusetts, at Northfield and Mt Hermon. These gentlemen act as an auditing committee, oversee all disburse ments and examine carefully into all tbe receipts. You must understand that, prac tically, all the profits received from the sale of this hymn book are applied by the trustees to the funds of the two institutions I have mentioned. SALES OF GOSPEL HYMNS. "We have been publishing that book since 1873, when Mr. Sankey and I first visited England together. It's hard to tell whether "Gospel Hvmns" circulates more extensively in the old country or in America. They publish one edition of the book in England with a certain number of selected hymns without the music for a pennv a copy, a million copies at a time. We haven't been in England since 1884. We made four trips in all across the water, and when we were in England our book, of course, would have a great deal better sale. And again, it must be borne in mind, there have been French and German translations of "Gospel Hymns," with very extensive sales following their publication. There are as many as five series of the hymn book published in the United States, and they range in price from SO cents to $5 a hundred copies. All depends upon tbe style and quality of the binding. Its 17 years of ex istence as a standard hymn book has natur ally developed a traffic ot such dimensions that I cannot nor will I attempt to give you any figures." "And how is it with your own works of ecclesiastical literature, Mr. Moody?" "I only know that they have reached such and such a thousand as indicated in the cata logue of the publisher, Mr. Eevell. I do know this, that piratical publishers have stolen mv sermons and printed them without mv knowledge and consent But not many thousands have circulated in this way, I be lieve" HOW MOODY AND SANKEY MET. The first meeting between Moody and San key was in 1871 at an international conven tion of the Young Men's Christian Associa tion, at Indianapolis. They were delegates. In the devotional exercises Moody was strongly attracted by Sankey's voice, and, after a service of song, he inquired: "Where do you live?" "In New Castle, Pennsylvania," replied Sankey. "I want you," Moody then remarked bluntly. "What for?" questioned Sankey. "To help me in my work in Chicago." "I cannot leave my business," protested Sankey. "You must I have been looking for you for the last eight years. You must give up your business and come to Chicago with me." "I will-think of it I will pray over it I will talk it over with my wife." Several weeks later the firm of Moody and Sankey was formed in earnest. Desirous of obtaining figures regarding the sale ol Moody and Sankey's book, a call was made on a member of tbe firm of Big low & Main. He held that it was none of the public's business what Moody and Banker made oat of "Gospel Hymns," but IE PITTSBURG DISPATCH he said that no religious song book ever en joyed the popularity of "Gospel Hymns." He quoted the name ot a religious publica tion, which he remarked had a sale of 1,200, 000 copies. TEN MILLIONS ABOUT BIGHT. "If you were to credit these figures to 'Gospel Hymns' you would be much below the true circulation, and yet, if the figures were quoted at 18,000,000 copies, yon would be eauallv extravagant in your estimate." When it was hinted that perhaps 10,000, 000 copies might be about the right amount, he simply shut his eve and said nothing. "Why have Moodv and Sankey separat ed?" suddenly asked the caller. How that eye did snap open again! "I didn't know they had separated," was the replv spoken very caustically. "I've heard rumors but I don't believe a word of them. I know Moody and Sankey are just as thick now as they ever were. I know we don't hear of Sankey singing lately. A man's voice doesn't last forever." A reDresentative of the New York branch of the Cincinnati publishing house of the John Church Company, said he knew of no reason for separation. "Gospel Hymns" was the best selling book of its kind they had on the shelves of their warehouses. The head clerk in the publishing bonse of Fleming H. Eevell also resented the imputa tion that Moody and Sankey had quarreled. Mr. Moody, in 1862, married Miss Emma C. Eevell, whose brother. Fleming H., is the sole publisher of Moody's individual works. Perhaps after all it is better to interpret Mr. Moody's statements like this: "Yes, we are separated for the present. We are separated because of the inability of Mr. Sankey to meet the demands made upon his voice. " Financially, we have not been put asunder by any disagreement That's all." S. N. D. POLITICS IS HEREDITARY A Repnbllcnn'a Dnnahter Makes n Serloni Cfamrco Agnimt .Cleveland. Lewlston Journal. The droll sayings of children usually crop out in unexpected places in Sunday schools or at religious meetings where a man would ratner give 5 than be caught laughing. I am reminded of this by nu incident which occurred recently in one of our Maine towns. A Sunday school teacher asked her class: "Who betrayed the Savior?" The little ones, who had not been thoroughly instructed in theology, failed to answer correctly. Finallv, a little girl guessed: "John Peter Paul Job," but being assured by the teacher that she had not named the right partv, added: "Well, then, it must have been Cleveland." "That girl's father is a Republican," whispered an astute member of the Bible class, who had overheard the remark. TUB AGE OP MUSCLE. Samson Isn't tbe Ktrongeat Ulan Nowadays in iho Sranll Boy's Opinion. Lewistown Joarnal.3 Boys, as a rule, answer questions more promptly than girls; a cirenstance which frequently renders their blunders indescrib ably amusing. In one of the many Maine school-houses that on the seventh day of the week are made to do duty as churches, a worthy deacon, who had charge of the Sunday school, began catechising a class of boys by asking: "Who was the strongest man?" Without hesitating an instant, an 8-year-old-youngster shouted: "Sullivan! Now ask me who's the boss catcher." THE CHARM OP GOAT HILL. Verses to a Dellghtfal nnd Weil-Known Subnrb at tbe Gns City. IWKITTEN FOB TUB DISF.A.TC&. "Goat Hill, a delightful suburb of Pitts burg, extensively settled by noblemen of Celtic descent, and remarkable for its large and amasingly hungry herds of goats." Xeio Qazeteer. Away far away from the roar of the street, Where breezes run riot at will. The poet recalleth a rural retreat. Which goes by the name of "Goat Hill." Ob! dear to my heart is that ravishing scene. As In fancy I visit It still Its chalets. Its goats, and its valleys so green. All parts of tbe charm of Goat Hill. n. Through the long summer days howl fondly re clined. While Nature made love to my soul; On a couch of rich grass, which tbe goats left behind In tbe shade of a telegraph pole! There I dreamed of a borne far from cities and sins. With a nymph, to my Jack to play Jill. When tbe gentle goats browse on the castaway tin. 'Mid tbe gardens and bowers of Goat Hill. m. 'Twas there wben the stars Were awake In the Tbe sons ot tbe hillside I've seen. With pitchers and bottles, proceed on the sly, To Gllllgan's private shebeen! QO, i !&- rjg Goals Browse on Castaway Tins. And there, ob, my Bridget! each calm after noon, I witnessed tbee milking with skill. The goats that belonged to tbe Cbateau if ul doon. Whose battlements frowned on Goat HOI I IV. Bat tbe mow Is abroad and tbe slush Is a bore, And tbe windbriugeth tears to my eyes; I would it were bright, brilliant Bummer once more. In sptte of the heat and tbe flies! For then shall I fly to that well-belov'd spot, Sweet peace from Its vales to distil; Bo I'm saving up money to purchase a lot In the rural ravines of Goat Hill I JOHN G. BRENAN. iLm in z k XMmm In the Shade of a Telegravh, Pole. PITTSBURG, SUNDAY, APBIL 6, 1890. CLAEA BELLE'S CHAT. The Rage for Elding to Untie at the Equestrian Academies. A DUDE'S UNLUCKY L0YE AFFAIR. Commendable Pride Displayed by a Work ing Girl in a 8treet Car. DRESS REFORM FOR LADI WRITERS rCOEItrSPONDKNCI Or THE DISFATC1I.1 New York, April 5. ANCING out of Holy week into Easter week, "our best sassiety" is once more ready for live liness. Not that Lent has been altogether apathetic. We sim ply changed our di versions. We didn't forego them. Among the favorite amuse ments was music riding. These affairs in the New York equestrian academies are largely attended. A music ride means a ride on horseback to music. That is, people goto a riding school on certain evenings, get on their horses, and amble about the enclosure to popular airs played by a band. Meanwhile, their friends sit in the galleries and look on. Occasionally an aspiring girl, or possibly a fat woman, falls off a horse and thus en livens the proceedings; but usually it is simply a monotonous circling around the ring by those who like to show their riding clothes and enjoy social intercourse with their partners. An easy system of etiquette prevails. Everybody talks to his neighbor; and, as the pupils usually have to be properly introduced at these schools, there is not much danger of undesirable persons intruding themselves. Once in a great while a black sheep comes in and gives the other riders something to gossip about. Once her character is found out, however, her tickets for riding are quietly withheld by the management. She is told all the horses are engaged, and the quality of the music ride is placed beyond cavil. A dude's unlucky love. A very young man with a light, goose down mustache, pale blue eyes, a No. 12 neck and a laige faith in his physical at tractions has been haunting the front row of one of our theaters lately in the vain hope that a certain handsome girl in the company would recognize what a beautiful example of masculinity he is. His con tinual communications, accompanied by bunches of roses, met with a saddening sort of silence, but still he did not despair, and this week he outdid himself by sending a huge basket of flowers with the request that, if his attentions were viewed with favor, the idol of his heart should at the performance that night wear a cluster of the violets on her bosom. It happens that a bright little girl of 8 takes a part in the play, and the callow youth was astonished when he saw his bunch of violets at the throat of the child. The woman and the girl have a colloquy together in one scene, and on this occasion they introduced a few lines that were not in the'author's text. "Oh, where did you get those sweet vio lets," asked the actress. "A dude sent them to me," replied the child. "Why, joa little.m.qujej" replied the ac tress; "do you mean to say that -you have become the victim of dudes at your ace?" "Yes, indeed," said the child with im mense gravity; "and I am to wear these flowers when I go out with nurse so that he may know I like him." Then the regular lines of the play were resumed. About that time a red and white young man, evidently hnrrying for a train, was seen flying up the aisle of the theater. HER PRIDE WAS ADMIRABLE. Some yonng men are not so well informed in the requisite formalities toward the fem inine sex as they ought to be, and it was one of this order that put a young woman on a Bowery horse car after the theater, the other night, and left her to get to Harlem alone, while he went in an opposite directiou to Brooklyn. Seeing her safely ensconced in the car, the young man thrust a 5-cent piece into the hand of the conductor and jumped from the platform. In a few moments the conductor entered the car, and stood before the girl awaiting her fare. She looked quea tioningly at him and said nothing. "Fare, miss," said the conductor. The girl blushed. "Jimmy I mean didn't the young man pay my fare?" asked she. "He paid his own fare, not yours," replied the conductor, gruffly. ''But he didn't take a ride. He only put me on the car." "That's all right He rode all the same. I want your fare." The girl made a movement toward her pocket and then hesitated. Springing to her feet, she murmured, as tbe tears came to her eyes: "Let me off, please." "What." exclaimed the conductor. "You ain't got the price of a ride. Oh, pshaw! you kin ride free, then." SHE MEANT WHAT SHE SAID. But the meek little Harlem maid, with her smart 52 hat and well-worn jacket, was game. Her pretty mouth settled firmly over her white teeth. "You will stop the car and let me off," said the girl, as Imperiously as a princes). Two men passengers offered nickels for the girl to the conductor, who was now insisting that he did not require any fare. The girl thanked them. "I wish to get off at once," she cried, fixing her big, angry eyes upon the conductor. "I made a mistake. Miss," said the latter. "I don't want no fare." The girl fluttered out to the platform, and, as gracefully and sure as a bird, swung from the step, while the oar was dashing along at a sharp pace, aud vanished in the Bowery crowd. I happen to know that she walked home in the snow, a distance of four miles. New York Burely has among its working ranks girls whose pride ought to win them coronets. A duchess could not have out shone in dignity of poise this timid young Harlem maiden. RECEPTIONS THAT ARE BORES. The wit who affirmed that the only thing he disliked about a concert was the music would be inclined to find fault with after noon and evening receptions, as they are conducted in this city. Conversation is simply out of the question. The hostess an nounces one reader or singer after another in such rapid succession thai all one can do is to submit to fate and be silent. At times the lady accepts the performer on faith, and the result is a wretched amateur entertain ment, to which the guests must listen in respectful silence. Antiques who voted for John Quincy Adams ofter make their ap pearance at receptions, and offer to read something. Ella Wheeler Wilcox lately made the experiment of a French conversa zione. She required all her guests to con verse in French. It was comical. Her bus band asked: "Have you read the poem of my last wife?" To which the person addressed thus "re plied: "No; but I hope I have read thelast poem of your first wife." A French lady present was asked her opinion of the experiment. "Ze tour of Babble," she replied with a shrug of the shoulder. NOT THIS WAT IN PITTSBUEQ. When wilL an apostle of taste arise and preach in the wilderness peopled with blua stockings, telling them how to dress? Here is a mission for some woman of brains. It is an incontrovertible fact that writing for money or glory too often carries with it let ters patent to dress outrageously. The literary sisters generally go in for originality and turn out absurdity and eccentricity combined. There is one young writer in town whose fearful and wonderful gowns are the laugh ing stock of everybody who knows her. The poor girl thinks she is picturesque, and so wears the most startling and abominable of costumes. When she first came she wore a ring on her first finger. Some one told her to call it in, but no one has been kind enough to curb her decorative propensities in any other direction, and now whenever she walks abroad she is a sight for gods and men. Her flaring hats and her low-cut gowns just beat all. It she would restrain her picturesque proclivities and be content to dress as ordinary mortals, she wouldn't be half bad looking. As it is she is a horror. AT THE WOMAN'S PRESS CLUB. There is a fashion writer whose frocks and bonnets set your teeth on edge, 'and as for a certain poetess of passion who goes in for the Esthetic, you simply wish you were a man for about five minutes that you might rail profanely at her execrable raiment. In all the varionsNew York literary cliques the tastefully and correctly dressed writer is an anomaly. At the Woman's Press Club reception, the other night, how many well-dressed women did we see? We could count them on the fingers of one hand. Think of the. best paid woman editor in town wearing a guy of a gown and hat. "Who's that lady with the trimming?" asked a man the moment she entered the room. That was it she was all trimming. She is good looking, and with her salary ought to be a good dresser. There were a half dozen ladies dressed like servants. Bedad, Mary Ann on her Sunday out would make a better appearance. Oneprettywriterwhoap peared in a scarlet gown, a bat a size or two too small for her head, and ridiculous scar let shoes, which she took good care everyone in the room should see, was simplv a curios ity. SOME OTHER SHOWS. A lot of the women of course wore the everlasting black silk up to the ears. In no gown does our sex look more uninteresting. Another writer ambling around in a trained red velvet looked as if she had escaped from some Shakespearean show. There is no sense in literary women rigging themselves out in inch fashion. They ought to pay some attention to fashion, and help remove the justifiable idea that they know abso lutely nothing about dress. Next neighbor to the badly dressed liter ary woman is tbe Delsarto fright. The other night at the Brunswick just before tbe reading of Mr. Miller's clever paper on the "Demand and Supply of Modern Liter ature" before the Goethe Club, in walked a well-known woman in an outlandish gown. Her little face under its halo of towsled black hair rose from a high-necked gown of putty colored plush. Che was guiltless of corsets, and her frock was loose in front and Watteaued in the back. SHE CHEATED A SENSATION. Well, she looked for all the world as if she had just gotten out of bed, thrown on a dressing gown and cap and started for the Brunswick. There was a hush in the room as the exponent of art in dress entered, and then a furious gabble. "Great Scott!" I heard a man say, "I wouldn't travel around with that it it were shut up in a hand bag." She certainly looked like the Witch of Endor, and yet she is supposed to know it all. Women capable of exploits are a nuisance, and one of the riding academies has had to shut ont a disciple of straddle-saddlers for equestriennes. She was a professional dres3 reformer, and songht advertisement through immodesty. Sherurged that there would be 'novelty, but no offense, in the sight of a woman on horseback man-fashion. The manager replied thafusage made tbe differ ence, and that he wouldn't risk the shock to the spectators. Clara Belle. BEFRIENDED A MURDERER. Remarknblo Experience of Clara Morris Husband With Tiro Brothers. Chicago Tribune. The gentleman seen about McVicker's Theater last week with long gray side whiskers is F. C. Harriott, the husband of Clara Morris. He used to be a newspaper reporter in New York. There was a poor devil his name was Bulofson who was in the Tombs for murder. Harriott wrote the story of the murder. In doing so he be came interested in the fellow and offered to defend him in court, which he did. Bu lofson was convicted and died on the scaf fold. Harriott never deserted him. He went with him to tbe scaffold, and the last words of Bulofson were the ones he spoke to Harriott. Several years elapsed. Harriott was in San Francisco, i He went to a picture gallery one day and saw a man whose face was familiar. He said to him: "I must have seen you before. What is your name?" "Bulofson." "I defended a man by that name, accused of murder in New York. He was hanged." The man turned white, trembled and waliced out of the room. The next landing above was the roof. Tbe man went out there and committed suicide. He was the brother of the man whom Harriott had defended. lis" BLOWING 0DT THIS M005. A Yoang Boy's Bather Irreverant but Very Fanny Observation. Lewlston Journal. 1 The literalness of children may be offered in excuse for their want of reverence. Near my lodging lives a doctor whose gate is illuminated at night by means of a large oil lamp. One day it burned until noon, through the forgetfulness of its owner, whose wife laughed at him for his negli gence.! My landlady's son, a thoughtful 5-year-old, was much impressed by the cir cumstance. Subsequently, one winter morning after sunrise, the youngster beheld the moon shining dimly in the western sky. Having never before seen both orbs at the same time he was greatly surprised, and re marked gravelv to his mother: "I guess God's wife has got the laugh on him this time." "Why, my son, what do you mean?" asked tbe horrified mother. "He's as bad as Dr. B ," cried the ex cited boy. "He's forgot to blow out his moon." W0E8 OF TBE TYPEWRITERS. - Women Are the Hardest to Please and Lawyer's Copy the Most Difficult. St. Louis Globe-Democrat. Of all persons who have typewriter work done women are the most difficult to please. They want to include so much in their com munications, and are so particular about how to say it that often they insist on hav ing what would appear to be unnecessary changes made, and it is sometimes very an noying. The easiest people to please are actors. They are always pleasant, and prepare their copy carefully. Newspaper men are much the same way. Traveling men drummers as a rule are not difficult to please. Hotel typewriter girls have very little work to do lor preachers. It just gives typewriters the horrors to do law work, the -phrases are so professionally foggy as to appear complex. Anotherf Tnlmage's Creeds. Dr. Talmage announces himself in favor of less post-mortem praise and more ante mortem. He would change the saying, "Speak nothing but good of the dead," to "Say something pleasant about the living." SW SPOT PROPHECY. Events in ihe Financial World May Some Day be Predicted. PACTS THAT MAKE IT POSSIBLE. Solar Disturbances Known to Have Some Terrestrial InflaVnce AND DOUBTLESS AFFECT- WEATHER rwniTTXJT TOB THB DISPATCH. 1 IF some one were to announce that he hoped by observations on the disk of Old Sol to predict important crises in the financial world, his idea would doubtless be hailed as a chimera, and the man himself would be considered a hundred times worse than a quack weather prophet. Yet this, or something approach ing it, is among the possibilities in the near future. The earth is almost entirely dependent on the sun for light and heat, and is held in its orbit by his attractive force. In addition to this there is a connection between his solar majesty and our planet which is supposed to be an electrical one, and may be found to influence or even control mateorological conditions on the earth, on which of course depend the crops, by which the financial world is greatly affected. Long before the invention ot theteleseope the fair disk of the sun was occasionally seen to be marred by a bfack spot, which would re main visible for a few days, and then would either simply fade away or be carried out of sight by the rotation of the sun, which is accomplished in about 26 days. THE SPOTS VAKY PERIODICALLY. Among the first facta discovered by Galileo with his telescope was that there were frequently a number of spots to be seen. Although they have been observed ever since, it was not until the middle of the present century that a very important fact was discovered, Viz., that thenumber of spots varies periodically, there being a great number to be seen at intervals of a little more than 11 years, while between the maxima, as these times are called, whole weeks may go by without a single spot being seen. Now the spots are not the only evidences of solar activitv. During an eclipse, when the sun's disk is completely covered by the moon, a curious white halo, called the corona, is seen to surround the sun. It is radiating in form, and varies greatly in size and appearance. In some eclipses it is scarcely visible; in others its diameter is several times that of the moon. It has been observed that the corona varies periodically in unison with the spots. Still another phenomenon. Around the edge of the sun, but not extending out so far as the corona, may usually be seen curious scarlet-red streamers of fantastic shapes. INTENSE SOLAS DISTUEBANCES. These prominences, as they are called, can only be seen by special apparatus ar ranged for the purpose, and the;r are ob served to vary periodically just the same' as the spots and the corona. These phenomena, in connection with observations made by the spectroscope, show that the sun is in a state of intense excitement. Our cyclones may obtain a velocity of a hundred miles an an hour; the storms on the sun move at the rate of from 100 to 200 miles per second, and it is these storms which, in some way, probably make the spots. In the vicinity of a spot one or more prominences are usually seen, which are taken to be clouds of glowing hydrogen gas thrown off by the disturbance in the sun's surface. The taen ia) seem to be concerned in the auroras and magnetic storms on the earth. The faculte are brilliant spots, which are always numer ous on the sun's surface, and change much more slowly than the dark spots. The connection between the period of these appearances on the sun, and anroras and magnetic storms on the earth is now well established. The aurora, although known to be an electrical phenomenon, is still a mystery as far as its cause is con cerned. ALSO VAKIES WITH THE SPOTS. It is well known that the magnetio needle does not in general point due north, but, in addition to this deviation, at any particular place it is continually varying from hour to hour and. day to day. and it has been dis covered that the extent of variation coin cides with the 11-year sun-spot period. Another point has been noticed: On sev eral occasions very violent disturbances have been noticed on the sun cyclones mov ing at such a velocity that even at a dis tance of nearly 100,000,000 miles the motion of spots and hydrogen clouds was almost perceptible to the eye and these storms have always been accompanied by great variation in the magnetio needle and by brilliant auroras. It seems probable that the sun spots may have a still greater influence on terrestrial meteorology than is at present proved, and if this be so, they must necessarily affect crops and thus .have a somewhat indirect connection with the financial doings of the world. It is all possible, and many things that have seemed impossible at one time have afterward come into the list of ob served facts. Bebt E. V. Luty. CDRES BT HIFN0T1SM. A St. Louis Doctor Reports Tbreo Remark able Cases, bat Advises Camion. I am conscientiously opposed to the prac tice of hypnotism for any other purpose than the actual treatment of disease, says Dr. Fj B. B. von Steinmetz, in the St. Louis Globe-Democrat. Its possibilities are so great that it should not be attempted for mere experiment. Three interesting cases have just come to my notice in regular prac tice, one a woman of 35, had had neuralgia of the super-orbital nerve for four years; another was a negro, 40 years old, who had been screaming fora week with the pain caused by neuralgia of the intercostal nerves, and the third was a boy of 12 years, who was afflicted with diarrhea and bron chial troubles. AH three were put to sleep in 30 seconds, and all aroseafter remaining in the hypnotic state for 10 minutes professing themselves cured. Neither of the three has since ap plied for a second treatment. SITTING ON HER FOOT, A Yonng- Lady's Startling; Attltndo That is Approved by the Matrons. Washington PojU "Where on earth is that girl's other foot?" This remark was uttered in an audible whisper, by an excited individual, in a lead ing uptown cafe the other afternoon, and the person addressed looked in amazement at his questioner. But examination showed only one tiny buttoned gaiter in sight, and the fair owner did not have a pair of crutches or two canes to assist her either. The young woman was sitting on her right foot, which was rolled up on the chair. This peculiarity of women was subsequently brought up for discussion in a party of mar ried people, and tbe ladles present declared that the practice was no worse than for min to cross their legs in public conveyances or place. 'I v WEITTEN FOR SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS. The leading characters of the story are Geoffrey Bingham, a London barrister, and Beatrice Granger, daughter ot the rector of Bryngelly, on the Welsh coast, and village school teacher. Geoffrey Is married to a titled woman. Lady Honoria. nho married him for an expected fortune that did not materialize. Sbo fretted at poverty and made life generally miserable for Geoffrey during his early strngeles. They have a daughter. Effle, a child of sweetest disposition. While outing at Brynselly. Geoffrey is rescued Jrom drowning by Beatrice. In spite of themselves this Incident developed Into deep affection. Lady Honoria is not slow to see It and this makes mat ters worse between her and Geoffrey. Beatrice has a sister. Elizabeth. The family is poor and Elizabeth is ambitions to become the wife of 'Squire Owen Davies, who is rich, bnt stupid. He is madly in love with Beatrice, finally proposes to her, is rejected, but continues to annoy her with bis attentions. During; Geoffrey's star at Erynjeliy be received a brief in a celebrated taw case. Beatrice reads it ana bits upon the right theory of the case. Geoffrey returns to London, tries the case on Beatrice's theory and wins a great victory. It is his key to fortune. Henceforth money rolls in to him. lie gratifies Lady Honorla's every whim. Finally be is elected to Parliament, where be soon distinguishes himself. All this time be corresponds with Beatrice. Lady Honoria, at last realizing tbatbrr husband amounts to something, is more considerate In her treatment of him. but cannot extract herself from the frivolous class of fashionable people she has cultivated. The poverty of thn Granger family becomes serlons. Beatrice gives up her salary to her father, bnt It is not sufficient. Mr. Grander mast borrow. Scheming Elizabeth takes advantage of this fact to compromise Beatrice in tbe eyes of Owen Davies. She sends her father to Geoffrey Bingham, who not only gives htm 200. bnt agrees to visit Bryngelly. Before leaving home Lady Honoria charges Geoffrey with bis tenderness for the pretty school teacher. He meets Beatrice unexpectedly, and on the Impulse of the moment confesses to her she lathe only woman who can properly sympathize with him. It is a tempestuous moment to both another warning of the whirlpool toward which tbev are drifting. Geoffrey also meets Owen Davies, who confesses bis unsuccessful salt for Beatrice's band, and says her love for Geoffrey is the cause. He pleads for Geoffrey's help, and of coarse is treated with scorn. Owen talks mors use an insane man tnan anytning eise. iiizabetn secretly rejoices. CHAPTEE XXII. A NIGHT OF STORM. That afternoon the whole viearage party walked up to the farm to inspect another litter of young pigs. It struck Geoffrey, remembering former editions, that the re productive powers of Mr. Granger's old sow were something little short of marvelous, and he dreamily worked out a calculation of how long it would take her and her progeny to produce a pig to every square yard of the area of plucky little Wales. It seemed that the thing could be done in six years, which was absurd, so he gave up calculating. He had no words alone with Beatrice that afternoon. Indeed, a certain coldness seemed to have sprung up between them. With the almost supernatural quickness of a loving woman's intuition, she had divined that something was passing in his mind, J inimical to her most vital interests, so she shunned his company, and received his con ventional advances with a politeness which was as cold as it was crushing. This did not please Geoffrey; it is one thing to make up your mind heroically to abandon (in her own interests, of course) a lady whom you do not wish to compromise, and quite an other to be snubbed by that lady before the Lmoment of final separation. Ihough he never put the idea into words or even denned it in his mind, for Geoffrey was far loo anxious and unhappy to be flippant, at any rate in thought he would at heart have wished her to remain the same, indeed to wax even tenderer, till the fatal time of parting arrived, and even to show apprecia tion of his virtuous conduct. But to the utter destruction of most such hands as Geoffrey held, loving women never will playaccording to the book. Their con duct imperils everything, for it is obvious that it. takes two to bring an affair of this nature to a dignified conclusion, even when the stakes are highest, and the matter is one of life and death. Beatrice was after all verv much of a woman, and she did not be have much better than any other woman would have done. She was angry and sus picious, and she showed it, with the result that Geoffrey grew angry also. It was cruel of her, he thought, considering all things. He forgot that she could know nothing of what was in his mind, however much she might guess; also as yet he did not know the boundless depth and might of her passion for him, and all that it meant to her. Had lie realized this he would have acted very differently. They came home and took tea, then Mr. Granger and Elizabeth made ready to go to evening service. To .Geoffrey's dismay Beatrice did the same. He had looked for ward to a quiet walk with her really- this was not to be borne. Fortunately, or rather nnfortunately, she was ready the first, and he got a word with her. "I did not know that yon were going to church," he said. "I thought that we might have had a quiet walk together. Very likely I shall have to go away early to morrow morning." "Indeed," answered Beatrice coldly. "But of course you have your work to at tend to. I told Elizabeth that I was coming to church, and I must go; it is too sultry to walk; there is going to be a storm." At this moment Elizabeth came in. "Well, Beatrice," said she, "are you coming to church? Father has gone on." Beatrice pretended not to hear, and re flected a moment. He would go away and she would see him no more. Could she let slip this last hour. Ob, she could not doit In that moment of reflection her fate was "No," she answered, slowly. "I don't think that I am coming; it ia too sultry to pm. iji i .1 . (Jirg- jKjl'r!wdj"prC-t lii- i i i ii . I1 ' 'T gssMlssslssgia 4MmK " ToU Called Me' QeoffreV" B THE DISPATCH. go to church. I dare say that Mr. Bingham will go with you." Geoffrey hastily disclaimed any such in tention and Elizabeth started off alone. "Ab," she said to herself, "I thought that you would not come, my dear." "Well," said Geoffrey, when she had well gone, "shall we go out?" "I think it is pleasanter here," answered Beatrice. "Oh, Beatrice, don't be so unkind," he said, feebly. "As you like," she replied. "There is a fine sunset I think that we shall have a storm." They went out, and turned np the lonelv beach. The place was utterly deserted, and they walked a little way apart and almost withont speaking. The sunset was magnifi cent; great flakes of golden cloud were con tinually driven from a home of splendor in the west toward the cloud-lined horizon of the land. The sea was still quiet, but it moaned like a thing in pain. The storm was fast gathering. "What a lovely sunset," said Geoffrey at length. "It is a fatal sort of loveliness," she an swered; "it will be a bad night and a wet morrow. The wind ib rising; shall we turn?" "No, Beatrice, never mind the wind. I want to speak to you, if you will allow me to do so." "Yes," said Beatrice, "what about, Mr. Bingham?" To make good resolutions in a matter of this sort is comparatively easy, but the car rying of them out presents some difficulties. Geoffrey, conscience-stricken into priggish ness, wished to tell her that she would do well to marry Owen Davies, and found the matter difficult. Meanwhile Beatrice pre served siiGocc "The fact is," he said at length. "I most sincerely hope you will forgive me, but I have been thinking a great deal about you and your future welfare." "That 13 very kind of you," said Beatrice with an ominous humility. This was disconcerting, but Geoffrey was determined, and he went on in a somewhat flippant tone born of the most intense ner vousness and hatred of his task. Never had he loved ber so well as now in this moment when he wa3 about to counsel her to marry another man. And yet he persevered in his folly. For, as so often happens, the shrewd insight and knowledge of the world which distinguished Geoffrey as a lawyer, when dealing with the affairs of others, quite deserted him in this crisis of his own life and that of the woman who worshiped him. "Since I have been here," he said, "I have had no less than three appeals made to me on your behalf and by separate people by yonr father, who fancies that you are pining for Owen Davies; by Owen "Davies, who is certainly pining for you, and by old Edward, intervening as a kind of domestic amicus curite." "Indeed," said Beatrice, in a voice of ice. "All these three urged the same thing the desirability of your marrying Owen Davies." Beatrice's face trrew quite pale, her lips twitched, and her gray eves flashed an grily. "Beally," she said, "and have you any advice to give on the subject, Mr. Bing- namr "Yes, Beatrice, I have. I have thought it over, and I think that forgive me again that if you can bring yourself to it. per haps you had better marry him. Ho is not such a bad sort of man, and he is well off." They had been walking rapidly, and now they were reaching the spot known as the "Amphitheater," that same spot where Owen Davies had proposed to Beatrice some seven months before. Beatrice passed around the projecting edge of rock, and walked some way toward the flat slab of stone in the center before she answered. While she did so a great and bitter anger filled her heart. She saw. or thought she saw, it all. GeoSrey wished to be rid of her. He bad discerned an element of danger in their intimacy, and was anxious to make that intimacy Impossible by push, ingherintoa distasteful marriage. 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