ft
ST?5SWPf?
- & .;
THE PITTSBURG- DISPATCH;
SUNDAX
JANUARY 17; 189a
r
17
,,,.
01G LIVEDPEOPLE.
n Do Kot Live Fire Times tfie
Period It Takes Them to Become
Pull-Grown, as Animals Do.
IE AVERAGE AGE IS 38 TEAES.
Eangary the Death Bate Is Almost
Tirice as Great as It Is in ths
United Slates.
3TJEES TOE STATE3 AUD (HTIES.
nsjlTanla foes Sot Eaii Very Hlsh as Cuapared
With Her Eisten.
iWUl'ITiar FOR THE DIUM.TCH.1
Vraong the many differences between not
ing sad living things is the fact that
mges in those which are alive occur in
tain definite times; and the amount of
le allowed for these changes depends
gely on the properties of the living mat
itself. The time required to hatch an
depends upon what sort of an egg it is;
s the same in the chicken-hatching oven
it is under the setting hen. Growth, de
' and death have each their allotted times
i seasons the little mass of living
iter which produces a hair can form just
much length of hair and no more, and
en it has done its wort it shrivels and
s; when another little, mass of cells takes
place and begins to push out a new
j. The life of a single hair in a grown
a is from two to six years. Every day
loses from SO to 50 dead hairs and begins
prod nee nearly as many new ones.
?o, also, each animal has a certain time
ieh it can live; it is like a machine con
tacted to run so long and no longer, for
st ..niraals this time is about five times
it required for the animal to obtain its
1 growth and development, which in man
urs when he is from 20 to 22 fears old,
that he ought to live from 100 to 110
irs.
n Average Ufa Is Thlrt y-Elsht Tears.
As a matter of fact, the average life of
the babies that come into the world is
ly about S3 years; very few live to be
er 90, and not more than one out of 2,000
s his hundredth birthday. Is this dee
original differences in the babies tbem-
ves or in the way they are brought up, in
s places in which they live, in the air
sy breathe and in their mode of life
r they become full-grown? To answer
;e questions one of the first things we
int to know is whether people die
ually fast everywhere, tad, if not, where
:t that they die soonest or live longest.
The answer to this is that people die
ich more rapidly in Eome countries than
ethers, lor instance, they die twice as fast
Hungary as they do in Sweden. In the
ar 1S69 cut of every 1,000 persons living
the following countries there died, in
ipland, IS. in Norway, 17; in Sweden, 16;
Austria, 27; in Kunjrary, 32; in Germany,
in France, 21, and in Italy, 25. How
try died in the United States we do not
ow; because co account of them was kept
the grea'er part of the country; but it
is probably IT or 18 out of each 1,000 liv-
;. We do know, however, that thev died
.tpr in some cities than in others. For ex-
inle, out of each 1,000 people living there
d during the year ending May 31, 1890,
i'f" Ytrk Citv, 27; in Brooklyn, 25; in
ston, 24; in Philadelphia, 22; in Chicago,
in Detroit, XI); in tit. .boms, 13, and in
nneapolis, 15, while in the country dis
cts the Joss was only 11 or 12 out of each
5a
Different Farts of the Same City.
Also, we know that they died faster in
me parts of the same city than they did
others; thus, the death rate per thousand
Boston in the Eighth Ward was 33, while
tbe Twenty-fourth Ward it was 18. In
ooklyn. in the Fifth Ward, it was 33, and
Twentv-fourth Ward 18; and in Philadcl
ia it was 34 in Ward Foarandll in Ward
lirty-three. Wh?t are the causes of these
eat differences? In the first place they
pend upon the number of little children
esent in these different places. The
br's grasp of existence is at first feeble;
e little flame of life in it Bickers and
rubles, and it does not require much to
it it out altogether. The heavv death rates
cur amine the children. Ten"!, in the
urtb Ward in Philadelphia out of each
ouand white children under 5 Tears old,
5 died; nhile in the Thirty-third Ward
lv S3ded, which accounts for a large part
the d Terence in the death rate of the
o wards, and at the same time shows that
-e must be some treat difference between
'j in their influence on child life
t is not quite correct to say that in those
acssuhere theicwestuumberperthousand
e be people live the longest, but it is
le in most cases, and we may therefore
y that people live longer in small towns
n in large cities, and in the country
un they do in town's. This is true not
!v in the United States, but all over the
irld.
Octojenarlcns In the Tenth Centum.
Let ns now see where the greatest num
r of old people, in proportion to the total
ipc!stim, are to be lound living in the
mtcd States. An examination of the
cords ot the tenth census shows that in
80 ihis was in New England. Of each
ti 000 white persons there were then
?icg and over 80 years old in Con
ctieut, SS6, in Maine, 1,147; in Massa
us'c:s, 809. in New Hampshire, 1,478;
Khode Island, 827, and in Vermont,
222. These are higher figures than are
own for any oihcr State. In New Yorkthe
rreeponding proportion was 563; in Penn
Ivania, 411; in Maryland, 347, and in
elaware, 400. In Ohio it was 412; in In
ana, 2Gr; in Illinois, 215; in Iowa, 218; in
ichigan. 319, in Minnesota, 139; in Ken
cky, 328: in Tennessee, 347; in Virginia,
1; in North Carolina, 507; in South Caro
aa, 411; in Florida, 204; in Georgia, 401;
Alabama, 341; in Mississippi, 245; in
luisiana, 161; and in Texas, 11L In Mon
na it was cnlv 27, in Nevada, 36; in Wy
ing, 35; in Idaho, 40; in Dakota, 57; in
r zona, 53, and in Colorado, 81.
From a studv of these figures it is very
am that the fact that there are more old
ople in one State than in another depends
ry much on how long the State has been
tt'ied.
In the movement from the Eastern States
take possession of the broad prairies, the
rtilc valleys and the cold and silver
raded mountains of the great West,
ose who went were the voung, the ener
tic and the strong, leaving behind them
e fathers and the grandfathers in the old
ew England homes.
Th- Old Folks of the West.
And this movement has been so recent, it
s been so comparatively short a time in
c i.. story of the nation since the States
v -. of the Mississippi have been filled up
ii pierced with the railronds now neces
rr to supply large groups of people, that
ere has not been time for any large num
r ot grand athers and grandmothers to
oh up and get their hairs properly whit
ied and their backs bent to the curve
hich belongs to SO years of age.
When another hundred years have gone
c mav be sure that there will not be nearly
great a difference in the number of old
sople in the different States, but we may
so be quite sure that then, as now, those
ople will live longest who live among the
ind "swept hills of the Northern and Mid
e States ol this country. 'PcrhapsI ought
say not "people," but '"white people,"
r the negro lives longer in the South than
does in the North.
One ot the best means of measuring fh
Ihtive length of life in the different States
that afforded by the experience of the 30
principal life insurance companies of this
country previous to 1874, including the
records of over 1,000,000 of lives, insured
for over 2,600,000,000.
Records or Insurance Companies.
From these records we learn that the
States and Territories in which the insur
ance companies had the least loss by being
compelled to pay the money ttiey had
agreed to pay in case of the death of the
persons insured in them, or in other words,
where fairly healthy, full grown white men
and women, sufficiently well off to pay in
eorance premiums, lived the longest were
the following: Nebraska, 61; Iowa, 76;
Wisconsin, 77; Vermont, 80; West Vir
ginia, 81; Maine, 83; Massachusetts, 86;
Kansas, 86; Oregon, 86; Illinois, 87; Col
orado, 87; Delaware, 88; New Hampshire,
89; Ehode Island, 89, and Michigan, 89. In
this list the figures following the names of
the State show the proportion of the loss
by death, if the average loss is considered
to be 100, so that the smaller the figure
the greater is the average length of life in
dicated. On the other hand, stated in the same
way, the States where the loss was greatest,
and the length of life least, were: Louis
iana, 176; Texas, 175; Arkansas, 172; Flor
ida, 167; Mississippi, 164; Tennessee, 163;
Alabama, 134; and Maryland,- 129. The
corresponding figures for some of the other
States are: California, 97; Connecticut, 94;
Georgia, 96; Kentucky. 103; Minnesota,107;
Missouri, 111; New" York, 95; Ohio, 93;
Pennsylvania, 92; South Carolina, 115;
Virginia, 104.
These figures also show that life is shorter
in the South than in the North, and in the
fiat, low lying grounds than among the bills
and mountains.
How to Measure a Ufa.
Thus far I have been speaking of the
length of life as measured by ordinary time,
by days and weeks, and years. But there
is" another way of measuring the life of a
man or of a boy, and that is by the number
of new things that he sees and hears, the
number of thoughts that he has, the amount
of work that he does. There have been men
who for several years slept 20 hours out of
the 24 each day, and in one sense sucn a
life, though extended many years, is but a
short one.
It is not only how long a man lives but
how much he lives that is to be considered.
Everv boy knows that a week of one part
of his life is worth a month of another part.
Where, then, do men live the most? Yon
can easily tell the places where men think
they live the most, for they are the places
where there are the most men that is, the
great cities. There is where a man lives
not only his own life, but a part of a dozen,
a hundred, a thousand other lives as well;
where he has the strongest inducements to
make the most of every hour he can
spare from sleep, either "for work or for
play. What almost all bo vs desire is to have
much life and many kinds of it; to see the
entire show and not have to wait too long
for something new. And yon all know that
the more life you get in a given time, the
more lensations and changes yoa perceive,
the more you do, the shorter seems the
time.
XVonc tire In a Few Tears.
When te same things and the same peo
ple are seen day after day, a man's days
may not only seem long to him, but actual
ly be long in the scriptnre sense that i-,
increased in number, and yet give him less
life. It is the instinctive recognition of
this fact that makes the farmers' bpvs dis
satisfied with unending country life, and
leads the young men and women to
seek the cities. And hence it is that our
cities are growing so fast, although in many
parts of them the people are dying so fast.
But is this shortening of life in the cities
a necessity? Is it not possible to obtain
many days as well as full days, to have
most of the opportunities, the excitements,
the society, and the pleasures of city life,
"or at least all that are really worth having,
without giving up the prospect of a peace
ful and pleasant old a;e?
Certainiy it is; and people are beginning
tc understand this, and to ask that it shall
be made possible for them to do it This is
a niece of work that the boys all over the
States, conntry boys as well as citv boy,
will have to undertake, and they will have
full lives in doing it. How is it to be done
that as Kipling says, is another story,
which may be told hereafter.
Johx S. Billings, M. D.,
Census Bureau.
SHE COULD LOVE AH EHGIKB.
Fatted the Black JuVnster, for It Had
Erousht Back Her Parents.
rwEmxN roK thi dispatch.
The transcontinental train had arrived
and the great iron monster at its head
throbbed and puffed as if tired from its long
and arduous trip oyer mountains, through
rock defiles, dark tunnels, upon trembling
trestles and quaking marshes. The thick
black smoke which rose funnel-shaped from
its stack, rolled upward into the rafters and
out through the latticed interstices into the
daylight, where it gave notification that the
journey had ended. The din of the depot
was deafeninc. Baggagemen trundled huge
trucks laden with trunks and valises to the
storeroom, around which the arrived trav
elers assembled clamoring for their prop
erty. Bells of other locomotives clanged,
and outgoing trains of cars in motion added
to the general uproar.
Out of this chaos of sounds a sweet girlish
voice was beard welcoming home her par
ents who had crossed the desert nnd conti
nent in safety. She was a little golden
haired beauty, scarcely 5 years or aee, with
a quick loving uature added to the spricht
liness of childhood, with the effusiveness of
which she welcomed her parents.
At last the throbbing of the engine grew
fainter, and the noise and confusion became
less, and then her fond parents took her by
the hand and walked slowly to the outer
world. As they passed the locomotive
where the engineer awaited the signal to re
verse his lever, the little golden haired,
blue eyed beauty broke away from her
parents, ran up to the big bla'ck monster
and patted the grimy driving wheels with
ber little soft white hands.
Lookine up at the smokestack she said,
"You good, big, old iron horse. You have
brought back my papa and mamma safe over
the big, big mountains, and I want to thaak
you, even if you don't care for me because
I am so little and you are so big."
Then she turned to the engineer who
gazed at her with a softened expression
upon his dust-covered face as he leaned out
of the cab window, and said:
"And, you, too. I love you both,"
Then she kissed her chubby little hand to
him, gave a last loving pat to the driving
wheel and was gone like a ray of sunshine.
Just then a fleeting sunbeam from the great
orb as it sunk down into the Far West came
stealing through a chink in the wall and
paused for an instant as it sped on its way
to send a shaft of light into the two crystal
drops that rested amid the dust and grime
on the engineer's face. An instant only it
stayed and then the depot became black,
dark, and more lonesome than it was belore.
Noiiad.
This Might Be Harrison and Qoay.
Harper's Bazar. ,
"Cassius," said Cajsar, "yon are all the
time criticising the administration; but I
notice you have no policy to sustitute in
place of mine."
'It would be a big day for Eome, never
theless," retorted Cassius, "if you'd take
mv advice."
""Which is, brieflv, what?" asked Caesar.
"Jump off the Tarpcian Bock." replied
the conspirator.
"I would if I were as light as you," said
the Consul, with quiet dignity, as the lie
tors requested Cassius to move on.
She Fqaelched the Teacher.
Harper's Bazar.
Teacher Now, Mamie, tell me how many
bones yon have in your body.
Mamie Two hundred and eight.
-s-vuti i h J u..c vir v..
Mamie (triumphantly) Tes. out I swal-
lowed a fishbon at breakfast this morning.
OUR BOYS AND GIRLS.
BOARDING SCHOOL GIRLS.
The Corset and Del Sarte Are Both Fash
ionable 2fever-Ceasinc "War Between
Them Plain Gowns Show Good Breed
ing AdaBache Cone's Ietter.
fWBITTXJt TOB THE DISPATCH. 1
OB the dress of the miss
who is not yet out fashion
lays down an arbitrary law. She says it
must be simple. This is .the decree. The
height of style for it is reached with the
extreme of simplicity. If a young girl
wears gewgaws they mark her as not of the
elect; and the length of the fashion is illus
trated by the dress of a daughter of William
Bockefeller recently, at Vassar, who wore
there plain cotton gowns made like high
necked aprons.
Here fashion and taste heartily agree.
Elaborations and eccentricities of cut on'
growing girls
are vulgar as
well as un
fashionable. Good taste al
ways declares
for simplic
ity, but for
the girl in
herteens any
thing else is a
crime. This
is the paus
ing moment
between
childhoo d
and woman
hood, when
all is to come;
the most
b e an tiful
time in the
development
of physical
life, as the
sculptors and
poets say. At
this charming
Teriod ofad-
Oaffonand Crape. oles cen"co
complexities of dress are especially hateful.
They are a vicious masquerade.
A Snre Indication of Cnltnro.
Therefore do not catch up anything as
good enough for your growing girl. Do
not impose on her the wearing out of your
old figured or brocaded growns with
their passementeries, and jets, and
galoons, and artificial flowers. Puffs and
biases and such intricacies are far more out
of place on her than they were on yourself.
The things that she ought to wear cost very
little. And as inexpense is a condition of
their elegance there is no excuse on the
score of cost for improper dress. There is
no surer signs of a cultured household than
children in plain attire.
Even the young girl's party dress comes
under the law. It may not be decollete
nntil she makes her debut. It is of inex
pensive material, high-necked and long
sleeved. People on hygienic hobby-horsas
will approve of this, and very sensible in
deed it appears. If only fash'ion were con
sistent. But she isn't; she insists on no
more than a surface effect of healthy dress.
All the talk about the athletic society girl
and her loose garments, would lead to the
inference that health is the rage, and that
the fashionable miss has discarded all
hindrances to muscular development. But
she hasn't. Seeing is believing and her
gymnastic teacher, at least, knows the
truth.
Secret of the Del Sarte Teacher.
If you would study the wealthy misses of
America as they are, yon must visit them in
their haunts, the fashionable boarding
schools of New York and vicinity, where
they spend the probationary years of their
time before they arrive at their coming out
ball. In these schools the Del Sarte in
structors can tell a secret that shivers all to
pieces the stories of athletics. Here it is,
it is spoken on authority.
Every mother's daughter of them wears
a corset, and pulls the strings tight. Yes,
tight. And the gym teacher divides her
time Detween
instruction
and expostu
lation. And
the girl backs
herself up by
home influ
ences thus I
quote from
file: "But
my chaper
one at home
is always say
ing to me:
'Pull up your
corset strings
Gladys. How
you lookl' "
By ,all of
which it is
manifest that
the society
miss stands
on the brink
of more
things than
womanho o d.
She -still wa
vers between
the old rule
of passivity
and the new
one of mus
cles and aes
thetics. Del A Dancing Bourn.
Sarte is fashionable, but so are corsets, and
they must reconcile themselves as thejr may.
Meantime the spectacle of the gymastio in
structor hoMing up single-handed her stand
ard, while the girls bear dpwn on her class
room in stays is a sufficiently significant
picture ol the present state of athletics in
fashionable society.
The Girls' Dancing Gown.
But, at any rate, her dancing school dress
is all right The skirt is in straight breadths,
without gores; it is gathered and sewed to
the waist, and is hemmed. The neck has
no collar, but is cut down round the base of
the throat, making just the outline that a
modest necklace would follow. The waist
has the outside gathered simply onto the
lining at neck and belt; or else it is a baby
waist worn over a high guimpe. The sleeves
are full bishop, or else are some form of the
puffed sleeve. The neck is finished with the
narrowest of bindings,' with or without a
lace.edge. A sash tied behind with loops
and long ends is the main ornament, both
beautiful and fashionables It is either of
four-inch ribbon, or of the material of the
gown, with the ends hemmed or fringed, de
signs having the waists more or less modi
fied from the model described above and are
here suggested:
It should be noted that variations are in
the waists only, the skirt remaining in
II.
IBs.
1K7
every case plain. The first design is of dot
ted Swiss muslin, has the waist gathered on
the shoulders and crossed, surplice fashion,
in front. A sash and a Marie Antoinette
neckerchief of plain muslin completes its
charming simplicity. Another dotted mus
lin is surplice back and front, and is worn
oyer a tucked guimpe of plain muslin. A
sash of white satin ribbon is round the
waist. Still another dotted muslin with a
baby waist is worn over blue, and hak' a
guiujpe of Valenciennes lace. The guimpe
is without lining or is lined with ivory
white. It is made by sewing insertion, with
beading between, in vertical stripes for the
nectc, with the stripes running round for
the sleeve. Narrow blue ribbon is run
through all the headings. Tie these rib
bons together in knots and loops round the
neck, and in loops and ends down the
length of the sleeve. Finish neck and
wrists with a tiny bias fraying of blue silk.
A Pink and Blue Silk Gown.
An exquisite gown of India silk? of pale
blue with pink dots, made with a blouse
shirred very full on cords in several rows,
around the neck, and is gathered at the bot
tom and falls over the belt. The belt should
be a pink ribbon sash, but if one desires
novelty there may be a pointed directoire
belt instead, made of blue chamois skin
and laced in'front with a pink cord. Col
ored chamois skins may be had at the stores
for a small advance on the common price.
The full bishop sleeves are turned under
at the top and gathered an inch from the
T -
A Tnk and Blue BUk Gown.
edge, leaving a frill standing round the
armhole.
Crepons and cashmeres in all pale tints
are much used. A favorite model has the
waist round
across the back
and drooping
from the side
seams to a blunt
point i n front
The front of the
waist i s some
times laid i n
plaits that meet
in a point at the
bottom. Im
mensely becom
ing to a'dark girl
is a crepon ot a
yellow ochre tint,
with brown vel
vet The velvet
is in a wide snsh
belt, fastened be
hind with a big
rosette.
Chiffon and
crape are made
up for large girls.
They are over
silk and satin of
their own color,
A. School Gown. and are made' in
the simple way first mentioned; that is to
say, simply gathered round the neck, with
no ornaments but a satin sash. The neck
of a chiffon dress may be finished with a
gathered ruche of unhemmed chiffon.
7has Jewelry She May Wear.
If a girl must have a bit of jewelry it is
permissible to wear a tiny gold chain with a
A Glimpse of Valenciennes.
small pendant, or a string nf gold beads.
Precious stones and other valuable jewels
she should not be allowed to wear.
The hair isfrorn in a hanging braid till
the age of 15. Afterward it is braided at the
nape of the neck and turned under in a
hanging loop, or else it is braided from the
top of the head and fastened in a line down
the back, without ribbon or other ornament
A small, curly bang is worn.
Stockings and slippers ,of black, rather
than the color of the dress, are the con
servative choice for girls' evening wear, as
being most inconspicuous and simple.
The cloat for a girl to wear over her
dancing dress should be a single or double
cape, or a loose coat with bishop sleeves,
reaching to the bottom of the skirt Its
material should be an inexpensive wooL It
should have no trimming, but it may be
-lined with a bright silk.
Ada Bache-Coite.
The Bright Sunday School Boy.
Harper's Bazar.
Sunday School Teacher (sadly) I'm
afraid, Johnny, that I will never meet you
In heaven.
Johnny Why? "What have you been
doing now?
A Cup of Tea.
Belle Hunt In Frank Leslie's.
Cup of dellciousness thou Irth tayl
What elfln "spirits" lurked within thy
dregal
WTiat witches' spell what Impish bogle's
glee
What shades of long dead Teddies, Tats,
and Megsl
Thou limpid, amber innocence Incog!
Thou sweetened "fragrant beverazethat
cheers!"
Beneath those amber gleams were Irish
b02S,
And braes and fens and ghoulish midnight
fears.
I see thee sparkling in thy egg-shell shores,
Stirred by the silver paddle of a spoon;
I hear thee gurgle low on sugar reels, .
Lit by a lemon crescent of a moon.
Alas! what shoals below that egg-shell rim!
What undertow tuzgert at the silver oarl
What sirens couched amonpr the sugar reefs,
Luring the mariner to treach'rous shorel
Thou golden fraud I henceforth thee
eschew!
I'll sip no gilded-o'er insomnia!
Ill hay no more the rayless midnight moon,
Hltohing iny chariot to tho pale pole-starl
I'll turn me to thy name's traducer teal
That baseless fabric of an ovet-stecp.
I'll quaff the substance with the spirit flown,
I'll know the difference, but. at least, I'll
eleep, ,.
'
Hi
PA
ANOTHER DRAWING LESSON.
Sttssestloru for Reproducing the Familiar
Goat In Black and White Hbir to Get
Over the Hard Points A Tonne
People's Pastime.
rwurriEN re a Tin: dispatoh.1
Young piture-makers will find this goat
an interesting art Bl.udy. The form of the
animai has many strong characteristics of
decided marking. In fact, at first glance,
the creature often looks as if it were a
caricature, with its ridiculous tail, its odd
angles, and its qneer, long beard. Figure
1 gives the side view of a stand-
ing goat It' will be seen that the outline is
made up of odd, unexpected lines. The
bony framework is un
usually well defined;
the projections are
brought out sharply by
the various hollow&and
flatnesses.
Observe that in the
goat there are but few
rounded sections; that
the one conspicuous
curved line is that of
the under part of the
body, and that this is
in strong contrast to the
straight line of the back
tyA
above. (Fig. 1.)
The upper line of the neck is almost
straight; the lower line is slightly convex.
The shoulder section rises a little above the
backbone. The bank, from the shoulder to
tbe hip, is straight The most marked feat
ure of the upper outline is the abrupt down
ward slant whioh begins just over the hip
bone and ends at the tail. (Fig. L) The
tail is carried horizontally sometimes, but
generally at an upright angle. (Fig. L)
The body is noticeably thin from side to
O
"W!
T, r-v-sv
V ywsi
V
S-
(Tis:
side, except through the rib section (Fig.
2). The lezs are spare and stiff in line
(Figs. 1 Bnd 2.) The forehead is prominent;
the line from the forehead to tbe end of the
nose is slightly concave; the line of
the lower part of the face is
slightly convex, as is also the under
line of the head. Observe carefully
tne portions of the horus and ears, and
their relative proportions to each other and
to the size of the whole head. Note the
flexibility of the ear-. Note the peculiar
thinness of the lower end of the face. Note
the curious beard.
To repeat, the special goat characteristics
are the abrupt downward slant of the
Tiq.Sj
back line from hips to tail, the usual up
ward turn of the tail itself, the curved lower
line of the body compared with the straight
lineof the back above, the horns and the
flexible ears, the thinness of the nose, and
the beard. Once learn to place those prop
erly in proportion and position, and you
will have mastered the goat.
In drawing the goat in different positions
and the creature is capable of assuming
a great many first put on paper those
lines which give the special goat propor-
tions and goat characteristics, as in figure 8.
Then add the details of the form, also those
lines that indicate the rather ragged sort of
hairy covering (Fie. 4). Always, so far
as possible, make the finishing touches do
double duty, bringing out details, and at
the same time more strongly defining the first
outline. Fig. 5 shows the goat reclining and
IfilJ
tethered to a stake. Note the ungainliness,
the stiffness of outline; note the positions of
the legs, their bending, foldings, and
angles; note how sharply the collar separ-
ates the neck section from the abruptly
broadening shoulder section. ,
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We will now take up the head in detail,
in different positions.
The whole mass of the head, with the
horns, is rather heavy (Fisr. 6). The horns
are broad at the base,' but taper rapidly to a
point; they are slightly curved and slant
well backward. The forehead is con
vex, prominent The nose line is long,
slightly concave, and at the end is lost in
the upper lip, which projects beyond it
The two planes of the end of the face are
indicated by two straight lines outside the
outline. The union of the lips forms a
straight line. The ears are very movable;
mey are carried as easily lorward as Cacs:-
ward. Sometimes they turn sharply for
ward and hide the eyes, giving a very odd,
funny expression to the face (Fig. 6).
The side of'the neck is strongly marked
by a large muscle which starts below the
ear at the back of the jaw.
In Fig.- 7 observe the position of horns,
ears and eyes. The eyes set high in the
head; the ears start a little back of the eyes;
the horns just above the roots of the ears.
These positions vary somewhat in different
varieties of goats.
When the goat strikes an attitude of de
fense he bends his head down, presses his
chin against his breast, and his neck curves
up sharply back of the horns. (Fig. 8).
For a general outline plan of the head in
a direct front view see Fig. 9.
Fig. 10 gives details of the front view
and also shows how the natrowness and oro-
j t'cuon oi me nose
are represented.
Compare the dis- ""
tance from the
eyes to the top of
the head with the
distance from the
eyes to the bot
tom of the face.
Note that the
horns start from
the sides of an
eminence at the
top of the head,
which makes its
greatest height
between them.
Tbe space be
tween the horns
is often about
half the width of a horn at its basi
The
rounded projections over the eyes are at the
roots of the horns.
Fig. 11 gives a three-quarters view of
the head of a reclining goat
Look, now, at the figure of the goat as
a whole, in the completed drawing, Fig.
12, and note that the character of the out
line, even after it ha's been softened by the
hair, is still stiff and ragged. The
'hair clings quite closely to the upper part
of the body, and so leaves ail tne depression
defined; it is longer and hides the outline
more from the tail, down the hindquarters,
along the lower part of the body and up the
throat to the head; it also clothes the upper
part of the legs.
In studying goat action, notice that in
repose the goat's face wears an expression
nv'W
of great innocence and seriousness. Very
riight movements give him entirely differ
ent expressions; with a backward swing
of the ears he looks sly, "knowing;" with
downward flap of the ears he becomes a
grinning satirist; or, looking at you in
tently, he turns one ear forward and the
other backward as if just for the joke of it
Observe how, by merely placing the fore
legs close together and spreading the hind
legs, the animal takes on an expression of
the greatest activity (Fig. 13).
For the action ot a belligerent goat see
Fig. 14. "When we compare the kid
with the mature goat, we find
a slighter frame and a softer,
less angular outline, as in the
F.j.l
young of most animals. The- most marked
differences in proportion are the very small
head of the kid andMts high body line over
the hips (Fig. 15).
The kid's body is even narrower than the
goat's in the thigh and chest sections
and its neck even more abrupt in its
union with the shoulders as the downward
slant from the hips and the tail is even more
conspicuous.
The kid's head is shorter and rounder,
and more "innocent looking" than the
goat's; the horns are small; the ears are
large; the nose is quite short compared with
the goat's (Fig. 17).
y" Tbe kid is quick in its
f V movements, more nerv
'l VN us, more restless, than
J the goat
jy As to appropriate
A ' ' surroundings in a pict-
KtT?1! ure of a goat, it may be
'" remarked that the goat
is quite at borne in places where most ani
mals would be ill at case. You may perch
him on the sheer sides of hills, on th: tops
of ledges, when, cropping'the grass in crev
ices, or snuffing the breeze from some ragscd
peak, the animal is alnays striking, always
picturesque. . .
Caroline Hust Euiirsn.
We carry large force of expert furniture
packers, and furnish estimates on packing,
storing and shipping of household goods.
haugh z isEA2r, 33 water street.
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a.
WEITTEN FOR THB DISPATCH
BY ELLEN OLNEY KIRK.
VEBYTHING had
seemed to come to Ted
by instinct until he
was taught the great
"ring trick." He had
been born in the cir
cus, and long before
he could walk was
nsed to riding round
and round the ring on
the "learned pony,"
swinging his bare legs
defiantly and crowing
with glee every time
he passed the starting
post He climbed lad
ders and poles, holding on by his chubby
little hands, as soon as he could toddle
alone, and crept into risky places where, as
the whole troupe used to say, watching him.
with iov and nride. he van nhliied in "hftner
on bv his eyelids."
- . o o
"When he was 5 years old he used to per
form regularly with old Benny, the famous
'bareback rider," in the "wOd Indian" act
All the glitter, color, stir, life of the circus
was the joy of the youngster's existence.
He was so used to the sight of expert riders
and acrobats going through their parts he
had no thought of any possible danger at
tending their exploits, and all that others
could do he felt he could do and longed to
do. His father had been the wonderful
rider, Llenellcn, killed, unluckily, by a
kick from hi3 favorite horse's hoof just as
he carelessly stooped to feel the fetlock.
That was when Ted was but 2 years old, and
Llewellen had been so much beloved that
the company adopted the boy, as it were and
toot pride in his cleverness and promise,
for there could be no doubt that nature
had given him the true eye, the steady
head, the indomitable nerve, and the quick
sense of the laws of balance which
are needed by a man whose pro
fession it is to dangle twixt heaven and
earth. His mother was a farmer's daugh
ter, who bad made a romantic match or
running away with the handsome Llewel
len. Brie had remained in the company
after her husband's early death as a sort of
"wardrobe woman." Old Benny looked
after Ted's training. Often when alone
with her boy Mrs. Llewellen would string
out stories about the old farm where she
had spent her happv, free girlhood. Ted
knew every flower which grew in the bor
ders, and his mouth watered at the account
of the applet, white and red, which ripened
on the hillside. It is a great deal to know
as much about the world as Ted did, so ha
used to tell old Benny about the farm,
which was to him such a wonderful fairy
tale.
"Pity now your mother couldn't go home
and take you to see her folks," said Benny.
"Goihomeandtakeme,"saidTed. "Why,
could she?"
"Why not?" said Benny.
This new and startling idea dawning on
Ted's mind took his breath away.
"Mother," he cried, running to her, "why
don't you take me down to see grandfather
and grandmother and the flowers and the
apples?"
"Ah, why not?" burst out the homesick
woman, with a bitter cry. "Because-1 gave
all that up when I ran away with your
father. Because they wouldn't speak to
me; no, not if I went down on my knees to
them."
"Whv wouldn't thev sneak to von?" M
Ted, aghast
"Because I belong to a circus." she re
plied.
Ted comprehended tbe pain behind his
mother's words, although he did not under
stand the words themselves. He was indeed
really amazed that anybody should not be
proud to know the distinguished people he
was used to. But he realized now that the
reason that his mother sighed sometimes
was that she felt shut out from the old para
dise, and he began to sigh toa Perhaps he
was tired; perhaps he had in his young
energy gone a little beyond his childish
strength, but he began to feel fretted by the
noise of the circus and a curious homesick
ness grew in him for the whisners of
'the forest the early moraine rush
of the birds, and the sight of animals
not trained and kept in cages but playing
about the fields. He longed to climb the
hill and meet the wind ready to buffet him
when he reached the top, and to dabble his
feet in the cool stream where his mother's
brothers nsed to swim on summer after
noons. The season was hot and on nights
when the animals were restless, when the
lions roared and lasbed tbe bars with their
tails and the tigers snarling paced their
cages and the hyenas yelled and the ele
phants trumpeted, and tbe horses frightened
snorted and stamped in their stalls, Ted
could not sleep. There was no airto breathe
and the many scents made him long for the
fields of clover and the gardens with its
beds of mignonette.
"Mother," he burst out oyer, "why don't
they like the circus?"
"Who?" said his mother, startled. She
s a,t late on her sewing as usual, but she had
supposed the boy was fast asleep.
"Why grandfather and grandmother and
the rest of them."
"Some people don't like a circus, Ted,
ihe said gently. "It's just a feeling."
"But it's the greatest show on earth!"
"I know it's a great thing in its way,"
said Mrs. Llewellen, "but you see, Ted, my
family are quiet people and their way is
different I suppose it is partly the tights
and the spangles, and the crowns, the
gaudy, make-believe, which made father
feel that nothing is modest and honest and
real about anybody who belongs to a circus.
But if father kuew.old Bennv, if he knew
him as you and I do, he would say be was a
food man. And if he knew how everybody
ad to work, to go over every part again
and again, he would see that no good per-
iormers coma De uissipaiea oriazy.
1t waa lust at this time that Tk sn.
was just at this
learning the "ring trick," and certainly
there was plenty ot hard work about that.
It was, as we have said, the first thing that
Ted did not take to by natural instinct, as a
duck to water. Never before had he shrunk
back from what he was bidden to do, giving J
way to a fit of trembling. As old Bennv
said the new trick was no harder than the I
trapeze, and Ted liked of all things to go '
flying from rope to rope to the topmost ring,
loving the idea that the heart of the specta
tors sometimes sank into their boots at the
conviction that he was in danger, now he '
suffered nameless terrors; he lelt clnmsv. '
k T
he had lost faith in himself. The truth was "You see-," the doctor said, "he is shat
that up jto the presenthe had gone on doing ' tered. His age is in his favor, and if ha
everything that came in his way withont a t could have a good home in the country "
thought of what might happen if he failed. I "He3hallhsve a home in the country,"
Now he was like a somnambulist who said old Bennv, and he did not lose an hour,
awakens to find himself in a position of He set off to Mrs. Llewcllen's old home, he '
danger. It was as if he had to learn his saw her father and mother and pleaded his
tricks all over again, gaining again piece by and Ted's case with them, but he did not
by hard trial and proof instead of heretofore t need to plead long. Ted had his first
swiftly and unerringly by instinct Old rllmnsB of the house nd the river and the
Benny was patient and tender with the
little fellow. I
"All rnn have to an in vih IaM f
the ring and turn round on it." said hr.
t'You know all the while there is a cushion
underneath you and that if you were to fall
you would not be hurt."
1 shan't fall," said Ted, "but W
like it"
"You have not got used to it and it'i
there that the fnn comes in," said Benny.
"Yon never had a stumble yet, not even a
balk; you're like a bird."
Ted hung his head and confessed to hinv
self that he no longer felt like a bird. Ha
was so weary. There was a gray haze ove
all this narrow little world of his, and each,
day it settled closer aria1 closer. He felt
dull, inert, as if he longed fo sleep; at least
to sit down aimlessly and dream wide awake
abont the hill and the river and the cool,
quiet niihta in the old place.
"I myself have hated to do things that I
grew mighty proud of when I had got at th
knack of them," said Benny. "Come now,
try again, Ted."
Ted braced himself up and went through
the rehearsal, but when it was over he
burst out crying and sat down all in a
tremble.
"It's A flsfft Kir tn Ti n lifT nT-nM ,3
r "M"r "nil! "Tii..t (. -:-! :' t !j
"- - -" . uc .nuns uue js ainiia
I of that one trips in, but those one feels too
J sure of."
They all flattered and encouraged him,
' and Ted felt ashamed of his faint-hearted-!
ness. A regular salary was promised him
j by the manager as soon as he had made a
success oi ine ring trice, and this was what
he and his mother had been looking for
ward to ever since he was 10 years old.
It was odd how he disliked the ring trick,
when it was simply a matter of swinging
himself up to the top of a high, tall frame
work on rings which hung on horizontal
bars. The supports below were twelve feet
apart, but met with another transom beam
and ring on the apex. The way was to
catch the lower ring, swing round on it,
then with the impetus gained to leap the
gap, seize the opposite ring a little higher
up and so on from right and left and left
and right to the top ring and down again.
It was a pretty feat, and, perhaps, nohardsr
than any other of the flying tricks, bat it
needed a clear head, and the tronble waa
Wkff Don't They Hktthe Circusf
that Ted had got into a dreamy mood. He
was so homesick nowadays for the farm and
for the different life. He liked better to
brood over tbe idea of the bees humming
over the flower beds and the doves and mar
tens calling for the cows than to give his
whole heart and mind to the actual thing
be taw and touched.
However, practice makes perfect, and by
the time the new season opened in Bright
town Ted had mastered the ring tnck.
There was a famous programme and Ted had
six different Darts: in the Indian act the
j buffalo hunt, the chariot race, and so on
finally to the wondenul ring tries, now ex
hibited for the first time. The excitement
was good for Ted. The dull, weary feeling
he bad suffered from ot late vanished, his
blood warmed to his wish, he liked the mad
gallop, he felt th? joy of his own youth and
strength and was ready to take wings and
float in air. The tent was packed with ad
miring spectators, and all the performers
were in high spirits. The ringmaster and
clown cracked fresh joke', at which even
the members of the company could laugh.
The horses went like the wind, the perform
ing dogs and elephants and bears all seemed
singularly intelligent, and altogether it was
one othe great days of the greatest show in
the universe, and the "ring trick" was to
be the rrand climax.
"Ail rightl" said old Benny to Ted as the
little fellow ran out of tbe dressing tent in
bis scarlet tights and cap.
"All right, on deck," said Ted.
Nimhledy, nimbledy, up I co.
The sky above and the earth below."
He stood for a moiqent measuring the
supports and frames with a knowing glance,
then with a bound, caught the lowest ring
spun around, and light as a squirrel leaped
to the opposite one and thus zigzagging
mounted to the upper ring. Here, just to
rest and steady himself, he swung round
twice then reversed before he should begin
the descent He liked it up there. A cold'
breath of air freshened him. The middle
flat) of the tent was open for the sake of
ventilation and light, and as he swung he
caught a glimpse of the sky dotted with
tender, fleecy little clouds, like sheep in a
pasture, as bis mother had ones said. His
thoughts wandered to the farm for a minute,
then he suddenly remembered what he had
to do; yes, he had to reverse. He quit
forgot that he had already reversed. What
was this? Where was the ring? How still
it wasl How cooll Who was it gave a
sharp cry? What wa3 that roar? Not of
wilubeasts but of men and women. Oh
that crash the end of the world must have
come.
"I'm not hurt," said Ted; "really I'm
not!"
Then he fainted away and was carried out
in old Benny's arms. Word was passed
round that the boy was not hurt, and the
show went on to its close, although all the
periormers were uurriea ana everything
went badly.
Ted had broken no bones, strange to sayj
he had fallen on the cushion, vet somehow
he was hurt and badly hurt 2fobody quite
knew why they were afraid it was his back.
Days came and went and he lay on:
tie bed holdinsr his mother's hand.
went anu nc lay on his iit-
"I couldn't get up to-dav," he would
mutter in alarm when anybody came near
him, "but I'm getting rested and perhaps
by to-morrow "
He was so used to playing his parts that
he was ashamed thus to lie and eat the
bread of idleness. But he and old Benny
used to plan the wonderful feats he would
accomplish as soon as he got well. Yet it
was soon understood that he would never
rerain his old powers.
Tend within a week. The sight of it brought
the coldr to his cheek and the lieht to his
rm-"L i -
&yk ys. Ufa
"Why, mother." he cried, raising himself " 'Jjt
up. "It paid. It paid to have the fall. "T .
Tviav w ftn1i1n't have eoma hnm If T ' :
had not been laid up." , ' O -
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