PAYING THEPEMLTY
Hoi7 life Goes on Inside the
Great PorMdding Walls
of Eiyerside.
A HM BUT mDLY BIJEft
Busy "Workshops Where kn Unnec
essary Word Means Trouble.
HAS T C05YICTS WHO USE EJITES.
Pen Picture of the Little Squab Getting
Their Koonday MeaL
BELIGIOUS AND 8ECULAB TE1CHI5G
linirrTrx Ton THE DISPATCH.!
ENITENTIABYl
cried the conduc
tor as he (topped
the car.
A bright spring
daylTheOhioriver
sparkling in the
sun, a robin carol
ing in the enjoy
ment of the sweet
morning, green
sward fresh after
the sprinkling of
the early dew, and
a headland across
m
' 'i
A Guard House. the river divested
of Its usual gray hue by the light of the
glorious dayl Eising above us a massive
SJTAP SHOT CT OITE
pile of masonry. A building 1,026 feet in
length, surmounted by 1Q towers, and re
lieved along its front by numerous long
grated windows, save in the center, where a
handsome stone residence stands forth and
relieves the monotony of the architecture.
This is the Western Penitentiary, at .River
side, as seen from the outside.
Touch an electric button at the deep stone
portal and walk up a short flight of steps.
There is a clanking of a great lock and a
swinging open of a heavy iron door. You
find yourself in a large, lofty hall, tile
floored, and furnished with a few chairs and
benches and a table or two. These things
are almost lost in the vastness of the
place.
Over a Thouoand Gloomy Tombs.
On either side are immense iron lattices,
through which you may see into the cell
blocks, where altogether there are 1,200
ceils. In the north wing the cells are some
6 feet by 8, and in the south considerably
larger. Each cell in the south wing has a
grated u indow as well as the grated door.
The latter is the only means of light in the
north. Pacing the door by which you enter
is another that leads into the yard, where
the workshops are.
"Come in, gentlemen," says Mr. Stewart,
the steward, "and we will walk through the
shops."
Tie silence of the place, that oppresses
ycu as soon as you have passed the lront
door and are in the great reception hall, is
hardly broken, even when you have crossed
the cheertul yard, where grass grows as
green as outside, and where wcll-kcDt gravel
walks remind one of a lawn attached to a
private residence.
"The boys call this Boston Common,"
savs Mr. Stewart "There is no Bunker
Hill Monument, certainly, but we have to
do without that. We cannot have every
thing in a prison. These different avennes
about the yard are called Fourth and fifth
avenues, Wylie avenue, and so forth. Over
there is Gi etna Green, although we never
have any marriages here. But it does no
harm to give lanciful names to our quar
ters." Malting the B-it of the Situation.
These pleasantries of Mr. Stewart may be
taken as the keynot- of the spirit that pre
vails in the Western Penitentiary. While
the discipline is strict, there is a disposition
to make the prisoners feel that they are not
entirely lost or shut out from human sym
pathy, although they have lound their
way iuto a nlace of punishment.
Into a bricfc building, with many win
dows, and a busy scene is lound. The men
are making mats, rugs and matting lor
aisles and large rooms generally. There is
a whirl of machinery, and a long line of
power looms is seen uoun each side of the
long room, allowing room ior officers and
workmen to pass iown the middle. Every
one is at work. The men, save for their
striped clothing, might be taken for work
men in any ordinary shop outside Even
the distinction of dress does not prevail in
all cases. A system introduced by Warden
Wright some time ago provides tor the men
being divided into three grades, and those
In the first two do not wear stripes, but
clothes of gray cloth such as they could ap
pear in anywhere without exciting remark.
When a prisoner is admitted he is put into
the regulation Mripes. He wears this dress
for eix months. If at the end oi that time
his prison record is clear he is moved to a
higher grade, and dressed in the plain gray.
Good Conduct II m Its Howard.
He is also taken out of the narrow cell he
occupied iu the north wing, and removed
to a larger one in the south, besides being
granted other little 'privileges not incon
sistent with his position as a prisoner. It
is pleasing to note what a large proportion
wear the plain gray. Should he mil from
grace in any way he is put back into the
third grade, and once more compelled to
trvnr thfi Ktrines.
We walk through the shop and note the J
':llll?lr:"
ftmz
.ijf''1 " P
deftness with which tho prisoners manage
their machines. Not a word is spoken save
an occasional remark connected with the
work. Unnecessary conversation is strictly
forbidden. Some of the men look at us
curiously, while others bend over their
woik as if they cannot bear to meet the eye
of outsiders. They are there to expiate
their offenses, whatever they may be, and
they feel their position so keenly that even
the casual glance of astrmger is painful. It
is noticeable that there is very little of that
bold, defiant expression peculiar to prisoners
in institutions whero the terms are sbort
Every man seems to feel that a penitentiary
sentence is a serious thing, and that a pre
tense of indifference would be unbecoming;
It seems to be the etiquette of the Western
Penitentiary to take life quietly and in a
well-behaved manner that is all too rare
outside prison walls. "We stop at one
machine and examine the work closely.
In tho 'World bat Not or It.
"Busy, eb, Jim?" savs Mr. Stewart pleas
antly, and the thoughtful looking man, with
a heavy black mustache, who would'pass for
a bright business man but for his gray suit,
smiles, and, in obedience to a request,
shows bow the material goes through the
loom and how the shuttles fly back and
forth in the manufacture of the matting.
But he does not speak to the visitors or
make any sign that he sees them. He stops
the machine, illustrating whatever llr.
Stewart may be explaining, and when we
move on resumes his work in a matter-of-fact
way, as it he were part of his machine.
There is something inexpressibly sad in his
tacit acknowledgment that, although in the
world, he is not of it.
Each man has so much work to do each
day, and when it is finished he goes to his
cell, to stay there till he leaves it the next
morning. The task is not a heavy one, and
if a man works hard he can be finished by
2 or 3 o'clock in the afternoon. But while
he is in the shop he is at work continuously.
It is against the system to have men idling
outside their cells." Occasionally, however,
a man may have a few moments to stand
still in the course of the day. But he does
not move from the part of the shop where
his work lies.
How the Graded System Works.
He may lean against tho wall, or seat
himself on a bench or bundle of matting,
OP THE MAT SHOPS.
looking around him, or he may, perhaps,
exchange a word or two with a neighbor.
But he must not enter into a regular con
versation. If he does he will find a mark
charged against him, which means an un
desirable effect upon bis chances of getting
into the first grade, or, being already there,
of being reduced.
In some of the large shops the process of
making mats requires that the workmen
shall use large, Tcten knives. Each man
has his knife and a whetstone, on which he
keeps it as sharp almost as a razor. Yon
look along the room and yon see that there
are over 100 men, each with a dangerous
knife. Then you observe that there are
only two officers, one at each end. What is
to prevent the prisoners rising against their
keepers, murdering them, and then, knives
in hand, fighting their way to freedom?
Here we see the influence of that respect
for the law that exists in the besom of every
man living in a civilized community. If
one or two men were to attempt anything of
the kind the other prisoners would fly to
the rescue of the guards. It is safe to'say
that 75 per cent of the inmates of the West
ern Penitentiary would be on the side of the
authorities were there to be an outbreak.
Human nature in a prison is very like that
Selecting JTis Convict Suit
outside. Convicts are not all murderers,
and a goodly proportion of them are decent
fellows, save for the one crime that has
placed them behind prison walls.
Itovolrir and Winchesters Handy.
Bo the men with knives cut the fibers of
the mats and think no more of using their
tools as weapons than would any set of men
in a workshop elsewhere. There have been
instances ot prisoners quarreling and at
tacking each other murderously, but these
cases are very rare. 01 course, every officer
has his six-shooter ready to his hand, and
the guards that walk along the tops of the
walls have Winchester repeating rifles, so
that they can sweep the whole interior of
the yard, and concentrate their fire on any
spot where it might be necessary. But it is
not the knowledge of these weapons that in
fluences the prisoner. He is part of a well
regulated system, and he does not contem
plate desperate acts now more than he did
when he was a free man in many cases not
so much.
One of the matshops, that was formerly
used as a shoesnop when the contract system
was in force, is said to be the finest work
shop in the State. It is 258 feet long, two
stories high and has 4,100 lights of glass in
its windows. What workman could desire
a more pleasant place in which to work?
The men working all day must be fed, and
Sir
we will step into the cookhouse. The cooks
are all prisoners, and in one stout, pleasant
laced man, with silverr hair and a drooping
blonde mustache, we recognize a well-known
"sport," who, while intoxicated one night
some years ago, managed to shoot and kill a
colored man.
He is serving a ten years' sentence. His
name would be remembered at once by most
Pittsburgers were it mentioned. He looks
Trusted With Knives and Hammers.
contented, and the regular hours ha is com
pelled to keep have given him a healthier
appearance than he wore when a free man.
He is busy, with his fellow cooks, preparing
the dinner, which consists of boiled beef,
potatoes, etc, stewed all together, and is as
savory as anyone conld wish for. It is
nearly 12 o'clock and the prisoners are
going to dinner. The cooks have been
ladeling out the stew into inesspans, each
of which holds as much as some families get
among them, and these raessp ins are piled
up ready to be handed to the hungry men
who have put in nearly five hours of work.
A gong sounds, and the men in one shop
are lormed
cookhouse.
into line and started for the
UWl
f v111 "1Ck'iSiep''f
each with his right hand on the shoulder of
the man in front, so that his toe almost
touches the other's heel, until they reach
an opening in the. wall of the cookhouse.
Here the messpans are passed out. Each
man takes his pan, if he wants it, without a
word, and follows in single file, but of
course not in "lock-step" now, to the door
that leads into the cell bloct. A officer
walks at the head of the sniiad. enndnnts
his men to their cells, locks them in, and
leaves them there -for an hour. As one
squad gets to the cookhouse another comes
from another quarter, and another from an
other, and so on, until the yard is alive
with marching men, all bound for that one
interesting building whence the steam of
the beef stew comes and titillates the nos
trils pleasingly. They do not all go to tho
one opening. There is one on each side of
the bnilding, so that two sets of men can be
served at once. 4
The School In the Penitentiary.
The education of those men who have not
had advantages of that kind is attended to.
School is conducted two hours a day in a
regular schoolroom in the hospital building,
under the direction of Mr. B. H. Graham.
Mr. Graham is a very well-educated man
a son of ex-Speaker Graham and he takes
the greatest interest in his pupils. He has
116 enrolled at present, and they are of all
ages. He has one man of 2 years in the
primary class, one of 63 in the first reader,
one of 52 in the third reader, and one ot 61
in the fourth. The men all seem to enjoy
school, and the authorities allow them the
time from their work to attend, being only
too glad to see that they are desirous of
making up for past neglect
The hospital contains only about a dozen
cases, none of them serious. We go into the
hospital, shake hands with the resident sur
geon and walk through rthe wards. In the
first one we meet an intelligent-looking
colored man, smoking a pipe as he gazes
listlessly at the sky through the large win
dow. "Enjoying your smoke?" observes
Mr. Stewart. The man smiles, but in rather
a care-worn way, as we cannot help noticing.
"Yes, sir. Thank you?" he says quietly.
As we pass out, Sir. Stewart whispers:
"He's in for life." We are trying to
imagine the feelings of a man in a living
tomb, light and airy as it is, as we pass into
another ward, where three convalescents
are eating a dinner that comprises toast and
other delicacies at a table, and who speak
cheerfully to Mr. Stewart in answer to his
greeting, and thence into another, where
tour men are playing dominoes, while a fifth
is lying on his bed the only one in the hos
pital who is using his bed, by the way.
Bathrooms and other accommodations are in
the hospital, and but for being prisoners,
the inmates would have little to complain
of. The building is very airy and light.
Golnc Out and Coming In.
Back into the main hall, and from thence
into another hall above it, where the book
keepers sit in a glass compartment busy as
any in an ordinary business house, and ap
parently as satisfied, although at least oue
of them is a prisoner. A new prisoner has
just been brought in, and one who has
served his time is going out. The one who
is departing is a United States prisoner.
He has just put on the clothes he wore
when brought in, and he is going into the
othce to sign a boot and receive bis small
valuables that have been kept in a sate for
him. He shakes hands with the officials
and walks out.
In the meantime the new man a young
fellow scarcely 21 is being turned over by
the deputy sheriff who has brought him in.
lie is weighed, searched and then given in
charge of an officer, who takes him to the
clothes room, in the same building as the
cook house. Here he is stripped, examined
by the doctor, and a careful record made of
all physical peculiarities. He is measured
by the Bertillon system. The length of his
thumb, finger, nose, ear, etc, are carefully
taken, and birthmarks of any kind recorded,
together with any deformity he may have.
Then he is made to take a bath.
Donning the Stripes In Prison.
In the clothes room are three sizes of
shirts, pants and jackets of striped mate
rial. With the assistance of an officer he
picks out clothes to fit him, including can
ton flannel underwear, shoes, socks and cap
and puts them on. Then, as he looks down
at himself, he realizes that he is indeed a
convict, and a tear springs to his eye, as, in
obedience to a sign from the officer, he
marches across the yard into the north
wing, where he is placed in one of the
smaller cells until it is decided where he
shall be put to work.
He will be allowed to write a letter to
his friends once a month, and every three
mouths he may receive visitors, but with
these exceptions he will have no communi
cation with the outside world until his sen
tence has expired, unless he be pardoned.
The chaplain, Mr. Milligan, has entire
charge ot the moral welfare of the prison
ers, which covers their correspondence and
visitors. He may allow them to write
oftener than once a month if he considers
the occasion urgent, and he can allow them
to receive visitors between the regular
periods if he sees fit.
Among the life prisoners there are some
with whom the officers have a great deal of
sympathy. Henry Briceland is a lite pris
oner. He has been confined ior 20 years.
He is an excellent prisoner, a good carpen
ter and an intelligent man. There is not an
attache of the penitentiary, so far as could
be learned, who would not rejoice to know
that Henry Briceland had been pardoned.
He has neither friends nor money, however,
and hence has little hope ot leaving his
prison until he finds the freedom of the
grave
His is one of hundreds of sad stories hid
den under the subdued demeanor and sober
garments of the vast colony pursuing its
monotonous way in that gray stone enclo
sure, while the robin sings and the waters
of La Belle Biviere dance in the sun under
its grated windows. G. O. J.
NOBLES OF POLAND.
Thongh They Occupy a Prond Place
in History They Are Brutes.
NO HUMAN FEELING SEEMS LEFT.
Trot the Hebrews and Lower Class ai If
They Were Slave.
IWyUL HTDIGKITIES W1KEVAX B1W
ECOBBXSrOITDZKCX 07 THE SIgrATCB.1
Cracow, Gaucia, April 11. If one
could first approach Cracow from the north,
filled with the sentimental romance of
Polish heroio memories, and have in mind
the Poland and Cracow of that time when
Cracow was the residence of Polish sover
eigns, a view of the ancient city would be
one of great impress! veness.
f At any distance, from this direction, the
structural seeming is one ot unimpaired
splendor. Its many church spires, quaint
and huge-peaked roofs; spacious palaces and
dark old towers are clustered in great pro
fusion aronnd the Wavel Bock, on which
stands the castle of Zamek, the former royal
castle of Poland. At its base the dragon of
the cave, which noisome hole may still be
seen, was killed by Krak, the Cadmus of
Poland. At the city's southern side can be
seen the gleaming waters of the blue Vis
tula, which almost encircles the olden town.
The splendid Vistnla vale stretches fair
and far beyond. And the southern horizon
is a serrated edge of misty blue, where,
oyer against sunny Hungary, rise the peaks
of wild Tatra and the grand Carpathian
range.
Petroleum Has a Hand In Revival.
But splendid as is this first seeming the
ancient city of kings, cathedrals aud uni
versities is now simply a gorgeons shell of
stone, swarming with a population the most
miserable and seemingly hopeless human
eyes ever beheld. The city once held from
I UU.VUV IU 1UU.UUV DVUia CkUM TT.IO VUG VUUUUbl'
I cial as well as roval canital of Poland. Its
! desertion and degradation reached an appa
rent lowest ebb a quarter of a century since.
Subseauently Austrian reforms, and the
general improvement of the condition of
the Galician Polish peasantry, and especial
ly the stimulating effect of excellent devel
opment in agricultural and the mineral and
petroleum fields of Galicia, reawakened
some of its old-time commercial activity.
But this fell away again as Lemberg grad
ually became the commercial capital ot Ga
licia. Then came another influx of popula
tion, but ot so dolorous a sort that Cracow's
present increased housing of humanity is
certainly the most painfully and pathetical
ly abhorrent in all Europe. The city is not
more than ten English miles from the Rus
sian frontier. During all the uuspeakably
cruel persecutions of Bussian Polish Jews
which have indignantly thrilled the civil
ized world during the past few years, Cra
cow has received and succored a greater
number of these helpless refugees than any
other single European city.
The Impetus oi Knout and Iduh.
So near is the city to the Bussian frontier
that every week, often nearly urery day,
witnesses processions of these outcasts given
speed across the border by the impetus of
threatened knout and lash, and the even
more goading fear of actual murder. In
1864 I saw with bursting and mutinous
heart the God-forsaken folk of my own race
as they were driven from Atlanta, while
their homes were burned behind them. But
revolting as was that brutal scene of so
called "military necessity," it could not
be compared with what is of such common
occurrence here, that it attracts no further
comment or attention. Two great objects of
interest will be found before vou enter the
city. To the north is one of the most
gigantio embattled fortresses in Europe.
Austria has always claimed that this was
for use as a frontier fortress in the event of
Bussian hostilities. As nearly 1,000 spies
in citizen's clothing are said to be still in
use in Cracow and the immediate vicinity,
the Polish peasantry prefer to believe "it
was built and is kept manned for the pur
poses of awe and effectual subjugation.
In any event it forms a threatening
answer to a still greater monument to
national feeling which may be found but
three miles distant upon the eminence of
Brownislawa. This is the collossal Kos
ciusko Mound.
Over in Ireland the humble peasantry,
loyal in their memories for even legendary
hero or saint, when passing the spot where
the body fell or was interred, cast pebbles
upon the grave and murmur prayers for the
repose of the souk A similar Polish na
tional adoration of the brave and the good
has resulted in this most curious memorial
mound in Christendom.
A Sacred Heart-Bnllt Memorial.
It is 150 feet high and is principally
formed of earth, brought in sacks and bar
row loads with infinite toil from all the
battle fields famous in Polish history. Grim
and tragic is the satire upon this sacred
heart-built memorial, on the part of relent
less power. When it was nicely completed
the Austrians found it an excellent pedestal
for one of the huge detached forts with
which they proceeded to surround Cracow
in a five-mile circle
The outer walls of the city itself are very
interesting and massive. They will remind
you of the tremendous old walls of Neur
emberg, down in Bavaria. They are quite
as high and thick, but are varied at inter
vals with surmounting tower?, both
square and round, of immense thick
ness and great height with most picturesque
minaretted roofs. The gateways are auite
as remarkable as those at Malta, and are
given great additional quaint charm by
their curious old shrines. These are very
ancient; indeed so old that the carving ot
the floritnre and images is almost wholly
defaced. From this fact alone they seem to
attrast the greatest number of worshipers;
and on many occasions I have been scarcely
able to pass beneath these huge arches
owing to the crowds packed like panicky
sheep upon their knees against the shrines.
Bound about and within the old city at
this season of the year, just as the foliage is
beginning to show along the banks ot the
Vistula and among the gigantic trees of the
ancient promenades, a casual glance gives
the impression of serenity and even bright
ness. One feels as though quiet and satis
fied content must reign within and without.
But, once inside the massive gateways, the
heart sickens at what the eyes continually
behold.
A Justification of Dynamite.
Soldiers are everywhere. Gay in their
rich trappings they spurn their fellow civil
ians as though they were beasts. Were I
one ot these human animals beneath them I
would surely answer their insults with dyna
mite or melanite; and one has only to move
about these streets an hour to understand
aud condone the awful revenges the goaded
humans of some of these Old World hives
are taking upon their oppressors. No Pol
ish lowly woman can walk these streets
without beastly insult. No Hebrew maiden
is safe in her own doorway from these uni
formed jackals. I have witnessed outrages
by the Austrian military without number
too unspeakably horrible to be put in print.
They are so common, their victims are so
helpless, the slavishness of their powerless
ness is so .hopeless tor change, or attention,
or justice, that their tormenters have even
ceased to smile at their own devilish inge
nuity of outrase. "
Some of these things cannot be repeated.
Here are a few instances of simple brutality
out of scores I have myself witnessed' in
Cracow. A landlord, otiended by the awk
wardness of a Polish servant, struck him in
the face with a carving steel, breaking all
his front teeth. The guests laughed aloud,
and the victim was directed to wash the
blood from his mouth and continue serving
the table. At one of the gateways a noble
man was being driven into the city. The
kneeling crowd praying before the shrine
not moving rapidly enough to suit him, the
driver was ordered to ride over them, which
he did, bruising and injuring many youth
and women.
Slashing Off a Man's Fingers.
A detachment of Austrian cavalry leaving
the city for change of patrol at the Bussian
.frontier, on arriving at the Clothhall on
the Market Place, was somewhat annoyed
by the irenzied movement or the peasant
marketmen in their efforts to get out of the
way. An officer, whose horse shied from
contact with a rustic carrying some fowls
slung over his shoulder in willow cages,
drew his saber and, with a savage overhead
cut, severed two fingers from the defense
less man's hand. Apparently it would
have been quite the same had the man's
head followed his fingers.
As though this were not sufficient infamy,
a footsoldierstanding near, after an humble
salute to the brave officer, picked the dis
severed fingers from the street and tossed
them, as though they had been links of
sausage, to a bevy of half-famished dogs
shrinking and snarling behind a Hungarian
Gipsy cart standing near, and these ani
mals'dcvoured them after nearly devouring
each other in battle over these unusual and
delicious morsels. v
The treatment of the Polish Hebrews is
indescribably dreadful. Truly a majority
ot these here form a loathsome lot. But
they are victims of misfortune. No one of
the race is by nature slothful or vile. All
are active, patient, vigorous and brave in
all things tending to self-sustenance. Those
ot Cracow are mainly helpless victims of
Bussian persecution. "So many have made
their way into all avenues ot business that
by very force of numbers and desperation of
situation they swarm like wolves around
every opportunity of the slightest gain.
But thousands upon thousands exist in a
condition of such awful want, starvation
and mysery, that it would seem in any
place where a God was owned some touch of
human consideration and pity might find
expression. You cannot find it in Cracow.
They are beaten from before soldiers and
officials with staves. Police disperse beg
ging crowds with swords, striking right and
left and wounding promiscuously.
With Its Broken Lee DaneUug Down.
Those of gentle (1) blood seem to have
acquired the right to avenge all Poland's
national wrongs on these luckless humans.
I have seen little girls not yet in their teens
strike them apparently as a mere diversion.
The aristocracy from highest to lowest con
sider it no crime to chastise them openly
and unresentedly on any pretext of offense.
The very next morning after my arrival
here I saw a half-naked Hebrew child being
carried along with a broken leg dangling
trom its body. It bad amused some lordiing
or official in a carriage before which the
little one had begged to ride oyer it. I had
some respect for the Polish character, gained
I will admit, from Polish history, before I
came to Cracow.
Whatever the polish aristocracy may
have been in the past, they are brutes be
yond the limits of human language to reveal
in their treatment ot inferiors, and especial
ly of these Hebrew wretches of misfortune
and misery. And for my part I can see no
altar or shrine or crucifix or vicar of God in
this ancient city without loathing emblem,
place and priest where such inhuman
hearts can worse than murder and adore.
My guide through the ghastly shell of a
civilized city was secured through incident
of iniquitous brutality, trifling indeed for
Cracow, but still illustrative of its genial
and kindly atmosphere. I had trnly been
unbearably pestered by a horde of Hebrews
from money changers down to the most re
pulsive of beggars, and finally conceived
the plan of arranging myself in the most
Polish and least expensive of attire.
Protection of a Polish Costume.
It proved a successful device. In this
raiment I had visited the Tatra mountains,
and had returned to Cracow so torn by brush
wood and bespattered by mud of tbe high
ways that I was quite free to enjoy the city
from the nether side of aspect It was a
relief, too, from strain upon both temper
and purse. In this habilament and attitude
I was standing before a baker's window in
terested in an odd form of 'bread which is
fashioned and baked in an excellent imita
tion of a crown of thorns, much used during
the Lenten period in Galicia. Another still
more dolorous object than myself stood be
fore the window. It was a Polish Hebrew,
ragged, wasten, wan and old. I have seen
longing and hunger on as many faces as has
any other one who lives; but I never before
saw both so pathetic and terrible as in this
one white face.
Atthismomenta be vt of soldiers clanked
by. Both myself and the ancient Hebrew
stood at the edge of the pavement, quite out
of their lordly way. Something in the old
man's face attracted the soldiers' at
tention as well as my own. Some turned,
glanced and cursed. One said with an
oath:
"He will draw the loaves the window
through with that nosei"
"If the loaf (crown of thorns) was his
belly therein, it should cut with blood his
paunch through," sneered another.
"Ach, Gott!" shouted the bravest of
them all, as he sprang to the old man's side,
in a seeming frenzy of rage I feared he
would strike him down. But he did not.
He only spat in his face and called him a
"Jew dog!" "Earth rot!" and names beast
lier still. Then they turned and went
merrily away,
Daro Not Resent the Awful Intuit.
And it is true that this poor old man, for
fear of his life as he afterward told me,
dare not attempt to remove the froth foul
ness from his face until these Christian
soldiery had turned into the market place.
But I had done it for him before that.
I then led him into the baker's and then
into a cafe, and then into a wineshop, and
Christian money never did quicker or more
direct missionary work than on that morn
ing when, God knows, for the first and only
time in my life I longed to be a Rothschild.
This poor" stranded old human had been a
Jewish teacher in a not remote Bussian
village, and had been knouted out of his
home by Cossacks, his feeble wife perishing
in the flight from fright and fatigue. He
had got as far as Cracow. That, as with
thousands upon thousands more, was to he
his living grave nnder conditions of misery
and outrage more awful than those which
once made infamous the name of religion in
Madrid, Ncnremherg or Salem unless the
little I spared him could get him to kinfolk
in Berlin.
The white face ot this one old man stands
between me and Poland's ancient city of
kings, shutting out all else but the un
speakable miseries of his kind. And I
leave Cracow with a sick and heavy heart.
EDGAB L. WAKEMA2T.
E0W A MUSICIAH IS XAOZ.
Paderewski Began Study at Six and He
Studies Even Tet
Paderewski began to study at six his
first teacher being a fiddler who helped out
his living by giving lessons on the piano,
which he could not play. After a year or
two another teacher was engaged, but he
bad as little notion of technique as his pre
decessor. He thought it sufficient to bring
with him a collection of four-hand and six
hand pieces, which Paderewski and his
sister played at sight. There the boy's
early instruction ended. But the student
did not then relax his efforts. He played,
listened, compared and thought, and he was
rewarded with the success which always at
tends continuous effort. His marvelous
tone-quality has been wholly his own dis
covery, guided by an exquisitely sensitive
ear. ,
When 12 he went to the Conservatory at
Warsaw, where he studied harmony and
counterpoint with Boguski, and took piano
lessons of Janotha, tbe father of Natalie.
At 16 Paderewski made a tour throngh
Bussia, and going back to the Conservatory
at 18 became a professor there. At 23 we
find him Professor of Music in the Con
servatory at Strassbnrg. Besolving to be
come a virtuoso, he sought Leschetitzky in
1886, and set to work with his accustomed
energy. He was with him only seven
months, making-his debut in Vienna in
1887. With Paderewski practice and study
never cease. Before every concert he is ac
customed to shut himself up and to practice
all-night, 'going carefully oter his whole
programme. "
WHEELS LN COIGKESS.
Brainy Statesmen Who Have Formed
an Exclusive Bicycle Club.
TOH SEED WILL BE IT3 EACEE.
Booklets Simpson Bides With the Dignity
of a Philosopher.
HI5KT GEORGE STARTED TIB CBiZB
cosxxsroiTDzxcx or the sisfatcs.
Washctgtojt, April 23.
HE newest fad
among our na
tional statesmen
is 'IThe Congress
men's Bicycle
Club," of which
Hon; Jerry Simp
son is president
and Hon. Thomas
B. Beed its latest
tender nursling.
Only full-fledged
Congressmen are
eligible to mem
bership. August
Qm
md reverend Sen
ators and power
ful Cabinet officers nave no show in it, and
were even President Harrison to apply
humbly for admission he w6uld be peremp
torily rejected, so exclusive is this unique
organization and so sharply does it draw
the line against all but Congressmen.
All the members are enthusiastie wheel
men, and several of them are exceedingly
skillful riders. Among the most expert,
besides Jerry Simpson himself, the head
chief, are Congressmen Tom L. Johnson, of
the Twenty-first Ohio district; Joseph E.
Washington, of the Sixth Tennessee a
lateral descendant of the immortal George
John A. T. Hull, of the Seventh Iowa;
Lewis Sperry, of the First Connecticut;
Warren. F. Dauiell, of the Second New
Hampshire; and William M. Springer, of
the Thirteenth, and Owen Scott, of the
Fourteenth IUinois districts.
Henry George Responsible for It.
The idea of the club originated primarily
with Henry George, of New York. When
the genial sockless "Sage of Medicine
Vft
A Snap Shot at Tom Johnson.
Lodge" left Kansas last spring and visited
New York to teach the stock brokers and
other moneyed men there certain unknown
truths about sound finance, he unwittingly
fell in with the single tax apostle, who in
due time made him tamiliar with tbe pleas
ures ot the wheel. Itepresentative John
son likewise recently came under the spell
of George's influence, and he, too, became a
convert to the bicycle craze. Representa
tive Johnson happens to sit next to Repre
sentative Washington in the House, and
through his rapturous praises of bicycle
riding,' daily repeated, he soon induced the
young Tennessean to tempt fate on the re
volving wheel. Ex-Speaker Beed was also
prevailed upon by Johnson's eloquence to
forego his scruples and link his fortunes in
sport with the budding organization.
In this way the charmed .circle, first
formed but little over a month ago, has been
gradually but steadily enlarged until now
it is gaining several new recruits every
week and promises eventually to embrace
Representatives from nearly every State in
the Union. The expansive streets and ave
nues of Washington, paved with the finest
asphalt -and the smoothest of concrete
blocks, afford ideal facilities for bicycling.
It Bequlres No Little Nerve.
More than an ordinary amount of nerve
and courage is required of Congressmen in
indulging such a frivolous diversion as
bicycling in this capital city of the nation.
Indeed, such a deep-seated prejudice exists
in many agricultural communities in the
West against bicycling, tennis playing and
kindred mild forms of ornamental athletics,
Jerrj) Simpson Rides to the Bouse.
that the riding Congressmen from those
sections, especially men like the Alliance
advocate, Simpson, deserve to be congratu
lated on the grit they have displayed in
joining the club. The members, while not
seeking to conceal their fondness for the ex
hilirating exercise, have not courted pub
licity on the subject or sought to be inter
viewed as to their accomplishments on the
wheel.
Congressman Johnson isthe most versatile
rider in the club, despite the fact that he is
handicapped with fully 300 pounds of flesh.
He is one of the most jovial men in tbe
present House, with a ruddy, smooth-shaven
lace, curly black bair and rotund figure.
Unlike Henry George, who prefers a light
running English machine, he uses a strong
wheel of standard American make, ball
bearings and cushion tire. Notwithstanding
his ponderous avoirdupois, he has mastered
the difficult feat known as "the pedal
mount," and in addition is able to execute
to perfection some of tbe most intricate
figuresdn fancy riding. So enthusiastic a
friend of bicycling is he that he has taught
not only his wife but three of his little
children to ride, and frequently takes his
whole family out for an airing "on the
road."
A Veritable Philosopher on Wheels.
Bepresentative Jerry Simpson, on the
other hand, cares nothing for speed and
fancy figures, but finds an infinite amount
of delight in cantering straight ahead at a
moderate gait. He ride3 at any hour of the
morning, afternoon or evening, sometimes
with his friend Hull, of Iowa, or Johnson,
of Ohio, but ottenest alone, in solitary med
itation, "lancy free." He turns the street
corners warily, in the most leisurely man
ner possible, and in general conducts him
self literally like a philosopher on wheels.
He lives on" "the Hill," near the Capitol,
and when the debates in the House happen
to grow unbearably dull, as they frequently
do, be slips over homeyets out his 'cycle
and takes a quiet little spin by way of
mental and physical refreshment.
Occasionally he meets other members of
the club by prearrangement on the open
. i
jJamIk- 1 1
If 1 &. pJ "? "n" $
1flTwTTTT
ggggpRssg
plaza at the cast front of the'fcapitol, when
they all have a happy-go-lucky race over
the smooth asphalt Then after they have.
sufficiently enjoyed tne Keen air wnisuing
about their, ears, they return to the House
in time to vote, depositing their wheels in
convenient nooks' and crypts on the base
ment floor. They eouldri't have done this
in 'the 'last" Congress, for Speaker Beed,
who hadn't at that time experienced a
change of heart in the matter of public
bicycling', made an 'inflexible rule against
the storage 'of bicycles inside the House end
ot the building; to the discomfiture of the
page-boys and clerks' who had made a prac
tice of tiding to and from their daily work.
Sprincer Lite's the Eierclsr.
Chairman Srringer. of Ways and Means,
is an old hand" at the wheel, and is one of
the pioneers among Congressmen in the use
of toe rapid 'vehicle! He early initiated
his youngest son in the mysteries of its
management Tfnluckily his late illnca
has prevented him from joining his col
leagues in -their regular practice, but his
heart has been with them just the same, and
when he miiy recovers rns neaitn ne wiu
make up for lost time.
Bepresentative Washington from the out
set exhibited a marked degree of pluck and
energy in addressing himself to the diffi
culties that always beset beginners on the
wheel. With the assiduous coaching and
encouragement of Representative Johnson,
however, he has become one of the best riders
in the club. He uses a very light machine
and discards all the unnecessary appliances.
Ex-Speaker Beed, who has the reputation
of riding the biggest upright wheel in the
State of Maine when at home in Portland,
is content here in Washington with a low
seated "safety." It is related authorita
tively that when he first essayed to ride the
Ex-Speaker Reed Dismounts.
monster in Maine he "dished" his wheel
twice and broke the delicate attachments
with the same easy grace and. inimitable'
sang frold that characterized him in his
fracture, when Speaker, of the parliamentary
traditions and precedents of a hundred,
years.
Coaching Beed for a Bacer.
He still has an aversion to riding in the
fierce gaze of publicity which obtains in
Washington, and it is only rarely tuas ne
consents to a little.ruu, and then only in
the least frequented rendezvous of the club.
The other members of the club are anxious
that he shall excel, for they have it in mind
to deputize.him to represent them should
they be called upon to annihilate some out
side competitor for wheelmen's honors.
They know lys would be able to do the job
effectually.
Representatives Daniell, of New Hamp
shire, Sperry, ot Connecticut, and Scott, of
Illinois, can be seen on their wheels almost
any bright dav now, bowling swiftly over
the delightful boulevards of the fashionable
Northwest Mr. Sperry affects a wheel of
Yankee home manufacture, while Mr. Scott
is pleased with an imported one. Several
of the "extremely young" Congressmen
from New England and elsewhere have an
equal liking lor both uprights and "safe
tie," and are regarded as connoisseurs as
to best styles and makes.
While the asphalt streets leave nothing
to be desired for ease and comfort in riding,
the club's favorite trysting place is the
magnificent driveway called the "White
Lot," inclosing 50 odd acres of beautiful
level park, between the Executive Mansion
and Washington Monument
John T. Cbemeb.
AFBICA CAHHOT KILL HIM.
A. Man Who Has IIved Longer In Central
Africa Than Any Other White.
This is a picture of a man of iron phy
sique who has lived longer in Central Af
rica than any other white man. It is 11
years since Amedee Legat entered tbe
service of the Congo Free State. Of the
Amedee LegaL
hundreds of white servants of the States
employed in the far interior, Legat alone
has never asked for a vacation. For ten
years he has not seen the sea. He is now
almost in the geographical center of Af
rica, the sole representative of the State in
King Msiri's country, northwest of Lake
Bangweola No agent of the State has
seen him for a year, but it is supposed that
Delcommune's expedition, carrying sujv
plies to the lone Belgian, will soon reach
him.
Legat is now 32 years old. He is so com
pletely isolated from his fellow officers that
if he were to start for the nearest post it
would take bim three aud a half
months to reach it; and he could
not reach a steamer for Europe in less than
200 days. For two vears he lived without a
singleEuropean assistant at Luebo, on the
Upper Kassai liver, nearly 500 miles above
Stanley Pooh Twice a year a steamer
visited him to replenish his supplies, and
learn how he was flourishing in the wilder
ness. These were red letter days for Legat,
ior then he received letters from his mother.
and news from the outside world. Fatigues,
Erivations and isolation apparently nave
ad no effect upon Legat's iron frame. He
was born to pioneer the way and he intends
to spend years yet in Africa.
The Congo Free State has twelve agents
in its service who have spent nine years in
the Dark Continent, but every three years
they have returned to Europe to recruit
their health. The case of Legat is so excep
tional that King Leopold II. has houored
him with a special medal to commemorate
his services. His rank is that of a lieuten
ant in the public force, and he is the most
striking example yet known of the possi
bility of men of certain temperaments'and
rugged health living" uninterruptedly in
Africa without suffering from the trying
climate.
Bheumatlam Cured In Three Days.
Miss Grace Littlejohn is a little girl, aged
eleven years, residing in Baltimore, Ohio.
Bead what she says: "I was troubled with
rheumatism for two years, but could get
nothing to do me any good. I was so help
less that I had to be carried like a babe when
I was advised to get a bottle of Chamber
lain's Pain Balm. I got it from our drug
gist, Mr. J. A. Humbler, and in three days
I was up and walking around. I have not
1 elt'any return of it since aud my limbs are
as limber as they ever were." Fifty cent
bottles for sale by druggists. tisu
nktKflr?.
LORE 'ABOUT COFEEE.
The Eule Is to Age Green Berries out
Use the Boast Promptly
HOW TO BUT A GOOD AETICLR
Tho Connoisseur Begins With Coli Water
and Heats Gradually. .
BOLL EEQUIEED FOR THE BEBTTHfQ
WmriJtN TOR THZ DISPATCH. 1
To mske sure of good coffee you need to
comprehend these two facts green coffee,
like wine, is the better for keeping; roasted,
coffee, contrawise, cannot be used too soon
after coming from the fire.
The Grand Turk to whom coffee drinking
is in some sort a religion, requires that his
beans shall be ponnded while smoking hot,
put into the water without cooling, boiled
very quickly and durnk at a blistering heat
Though his method would not commend
itself to the American housewife, she will
do well to embody the seed-thought of it in'
her own. Unless, thongh, she is much bet
ter off for service than the average of her
sisters, she must content herself with fresh-,
roasted coffee once a week in place of twice
a day.
That need not be a calamity if she will'
put the beans piping hot into a close canis
ter and let them cool slowly with a heavy,
cloth well wrapped over it Do not put on'
the lid until the coffee is cold, but be sure
the cloth covers the mouth. Afterward see
that the top is kept screwed down tight so
as to preserve the fine subtle aroma which
gives to the beverage its refreshing frar '
grance.
It Is Well to Bay try the Sack.
If you can possibly find space for it la
your storeroom buy your coffee by the sack.
If you are ten years in using it up the last
roasting will be better and more flavoroua
than the first, provided, of course, that your
room is dry and well aired. Dampness is
ruinous to coffee. On that account look
'" Tne SAaf, Blossom and Berry.
close at the berry whether you buy it by bag
or pound. Very often it is shipped beforo
it is thoroughly cured, or it gets damp and
hot in the vessel's hold. It comes out all
over blue mold. But a coflee broker does
not mind a trifle like that He has a sort of
winnowing machine that rub? ofl and blows
away snch blemis!ie, leaving the berry
clean and sound looking as ever.
But if you know enough to bite a grain or
so in two, and look close at the severed
halves, you will easily find the difference.
Beally sound coffee is grayish
ereen'inside, of hard, solid, rather oily sub
stance, laintly bitter and decidedly un
pleasant to the taste. Moldy coffee is
more brown and lesi green, somewhat
spongy in texture, with a hard, earthy
taste, "and the faintest scent of nCild
Sometimes damaged coflee beans are mixed
, with sonnd ones but if your dealer is a
thoroughly reputable one you may depend
on getting a good quality if you pay a
decent price.
If fate decrees that you must buy ground
coffee or none, go to some dealer who has
both a reputation and a conscience, ask for
half a pound of his freshest roasted beans,
see them ground with your own eyes, reso
lutely standing out against the beguilement
of chicory or any other admixture, have the
bag doubly, trebly wrapped, and use as soon
as possible.
now to Itoast Coflee.
If you. have your own range and kitchen
by all means do your own roasting. Pick'
over a pound of "green coffee, throwing out
stones, sticks and faulty grains. Wash i4'
quickly through warm water and dip out1
with a skimmer and drain in a seeve for half,
an hour. Then put it into yonr biggest'
square stone pan, shake it evenly over the
bottom, and set it inside the oven which
should be warm, but not scorching hot In
ten minutes pull out the pan, stir the coffee
well and return it to the oven. Eepeat
until the coffeeis dry through and faintlv
brown. Then bring the oven to quick;
baking beat and let it remain so ior an
hour, stirring the coffee at five-minute in
tervals, so that no grain shall burn. At
the end of that time it ought to be a rich
black-brown, nearly uniform in color,
cooked through and through, but with no
hint or flavor of scorching. When perfectly
roasted, a grain of coffee should crack
crisply betwixt the teeth. If it does not,)
the roasting is not thorough, and the beans
nust be stirred continually lor 15 minutesj
longer with tbe pan set. on top of the
range just back from the fire. It is a nice
job until you learn all about it, but
patience and practice will very soon make!
you perfect (
Where coffee is used only at long Inter-'
vals it is best to keep the green berry onj
hand, and roast barely enough for use "when
needed. A small quantity can be done In
half an hour with .very little trouble by
putting it in a hot skillet and stirring until
it browns.
now to ilaks the Coffee.
Given ' proper coffee, properly roasted, 1
two other things onlv are essential a clean !
pot and freshly boiled water. It does not ,
at all matter what you make it in, if onlyj
the vessel be clean "and well kept Empty)
grounds as soon as possible and wash out
the inside well with soap and very hot
water, mopping the sides welL Then scald'
twice, letting the water run out through tho
spout, and turn upside down to drain and1
dry.
Have your water kettle clean, and fill it
freshly. While the water is boiling tak
a scant tablespoonful of berries for each cup
of coflee, grind them moderately fine, scald
the coffee pot again, and drop them in, thenl
add a cup of cold water and stir well. It
time presses, fill up to your requirementi
with briskly boiling water, set it over the
fire, let it strike a boil, then pull back;
where it will barely bubble for a minute.
Next, draw away to where it will keep very
hot But not boil, and let it stand for 15 mln- -' ;
utes'before serving. ,
It should be clear, fragrant, delicious, re- ' J
freshing beyond words, with neither dregsV
nor grounds to yex your palate and distem- . '
per your eye. '.
If von are a connoisseur, tbouch, yon will
use "cold water in place of boiling, and let"
the temperature be very gradually raised.r.
It ought to take all of three-quarters of anr 4
hour to Teach the boilingpoinu Let it stand1'""
and settle as beiore, and pour into warm, r
freshlv-finsedcups. ,
Another small secret: If sugar is used,; '
pour the coffee upon it instead of dropping,"
the lumps in afterward. If, further, yoolfe
use cream, that too should be put iu tbe-'l
empty cup. Unless, indeed, it is whippecVjp
WCaU, WHJCil 13 UiBbillltJ a.. M.l..UUUgUI
a frivolous refinement quite unwort.
good coffee. r
JIes. McCxrtLOcg WrT.iYTA'ani ,
"WE
I
I
mmm,- mmtunmmmm
y-M'j!ik'i4u$&k . i
ilWiilifi
.muijittft
,.. y-
,
'smH1sisisisisV