AT
Carpenter Takes Some Snap
Shots at the Interiors
of Russian Huts.
ONLY ONE LIVING EOOM.
Thej Sleep in the Same Clothes They
Wear During the Day.
VIRTUES OP TEE RUSSIAN BATH.
A Common Practice Is to Take a Good
Sweat la the Bate-Oren.
HIGHT BE THE WORLD'S RICHEST PEOPLE
tcoEitrsroxDKJCi or rax DtsrATCH.1
Moscow, Aug. 4.
IEST the lamine and
now the cholera have
brought to the atten
tion of the world one
of the least known and
at the game time one
of the strongest ele
ments of its popula
tion. The Bnssian
peasants are typical
of the one-seventh of
the world which they
own. The great Rus
sian empire is full of
undeveloped resources. The Czar himself
has no idea of the wealth ol his country.
"Millions upon millions of acres 1 it have
never been touched by the plow, and
hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of
its square miles have never been pros
pected. It has gold regions as rich as any in the
world which have never been worked with
modern mining machinery, and its vast
iron and copper regions produce the finest
metals of this kind known toman. Its oil
SSAP SHOT XT A
regions have for a lone time been compet
ing with those of the United States, and
Russian oil has largely driven us out of the
market of Asia. It has all sorts of precious
stones and as to its agricultural possibili
ties these are far greater than those of any
country in the world. Such lands as are
cultivated are farmed after the rudest
methods, and as it is in ordinary seasons
Russia is the greatest grain exporting coun
try of the world, surpassing even the United
States in this regard.
Awaiting the Elss of OpltaL
The bulk of this great wealth ot Russia is
now lying dormant. Like the sleeping
princess in the fairy tale, it only waits the
kiss of capital and labor to bring it into
life, and no one can tell how soon these
giants of material progress will gird up
their loins and moisten their lips to kiss
the sleeping maiden. Russia has in her
own territories the labor necessary for the
work, and if this were nsed aright there
would be no land so rich upon the face of
the earth to-day. Admiral Porter once told
me that at a fair estimate every man and
woman in a country was worth J300 as one
of the elements of that country's wealth.
At this rate the peasantry of 'Russia are
worth $30,000,000,000 to Russia, and when
once waked up to their possibilities tbey
will make the Russian empire jump as
though it had on the seven-league boots of
modern progress.
As it is, however, the peaantry of Russia
t more asleep than Russia's material re
jurces. I am impressed more and more as
I go among them of their wonderfulwork
Ing power and their dormant possibilities.
Tbey are the wonder among the laborers of
the world. Surrounded by the wealth of
Crcesus, endowed with the muscles of Her
cules, born with the germs of man's best
intelligence, they live, labor and die with
out knowing their power or appreciating
the fact that they might be better and
richer than they are. Simple and ignorant,
these 100,000,000 of strong, able bodied,
well developed people are intellectually
asleep. They are men with the minds
of children, who nnder a different system
would quickly deTelop into as intelligent
workers and as good citizens as our.best
Americans.
Every Itosilnn Lives In a Tillage.
Peasant Russia is by far the most inter
esting leature of modern Russia to-day.
The peasants are in fact the Russia of to
day, and their 600,000 villages make up, as
I have said before, this great Russian
empire. All ot these villages are alike,
and wnen you have visited one Russian
village you have to a great extent seen the
whole Russian empire. The Russian peas
ant never has a home ontside of a village.
He is a social animal, and in the thousands
of miles which I hae traveled through the
different parts of European Russia during
the past few weeks I have not seen a sinele
house standing by itself in the fields. In
looking over a Russian landscape you
see no fences marking off the farms as
ou do in America. There are no bank
barns nor stray hay stacks keeping sentinel
natch, as it were, over the fields, and the
lone farm house on the Western prairies of
America, separated by miles from any simi
lar habitation, is absent. You see no one
working alone in the fields without it be
litre a id there a shepherd or a short
skirted maiden watching the cattle. The
people work in gangs of from a half a dozen
to a hundred, and their life in the villages
aud fields is a social one. The common in
terest which they have in the lands belong
ing to the village ties them together in
other ways and they are more closely asso
ciated with one another than any other
people in the world.
I have visited many of these villages
within the past month. Let me tell you
how they look. Riding through the coun
try on the railroad you see scattered over
the landscape what in the distance look like
two rows ot Ion, oblong hay stacks running
Irregularly for a mile or more in one direc
tion. Each of these collections of hay
stacks is a Russian village, and when you
get closer to it you see that what you sup
posed ere hay stocks are thatched huts,
and that the lower part of each stack is
made of logs, sun-dried bricks or of wattled
twigs.
A rictnre or a Bai.lan TlIUc".
You now note that the wide road along
tfj!&tt-if!
PEASANTS
HOME
L
which these huts stand is full -of half-naked
babies, squalling children and all of the
queer characters of Russian peasant life.
The ordinary village has but one rradway,
and this is more like a road ent through the
fields than an American street. It is gen
erally about 100 or more feet wideband the
houses stand along it at all angles and with
no regularity or order. There are no gar
dens in front of them nor behind them.
Tbey have no front yards fenced off from
the road, and I have not yet seen anv sign
of a sidewalk of any kind in any village I
have visited. Ttae street is not paved, and
the onlv part free from grass is the center,
where the wagons have cut ruts into the
black soil. The remainder is a lawn of good
solid turf, on which the cattle graze, the
dogs and the children play, and upon
which the people meet in the evening to
gossip and chat. Now and then you find a
tree or so on one of these village streets,
and under these, on the ground, there may
be a woman with her babies about her and
with other babies tied to the branches of the
trees in the oblong shallow boxes which
constitute the cradles of Russia. Other
women may be sitting about, spinning or
sewing, and on the steps of the huts or in the
doorways you will Bee old men and shock
haired children.
The average Russian hut has one door and
two little windows at fhe front, with some
times a second window in the rear. The
front door is much like a rude stable door
such as is sometimes knocked up by our
farmers, and It leads not into the living
room of the hut, bnt into a little storeroom
or sort of vestibule which forms one end of
the cabin.
Cook, Eat and Sleep in Ono Boom.
This room is usually without any flooring
but that of the ground. You may see the
chickens or animals belonging to the family
in It, and some of the farming tools of the
establishment stand about its nails. In the
center of one side of it is a door reached by
one or two low steps and leading into the
house proper and forming the entrance to
the room that is in tact the only room in
the cabin, and which may be called the Rus
sian peasants' home. In it the family sleep,
eat, cook and live, and when it is remem
bered that fully bait of the year in Russia
is made up of bitter winter when the days
are short and the nights long it will be seen
that the greater part of the peasants' exist
ence is pased here.
A hut I visited is that of a well-to-do
peasant. It is if anything better than the
average. Its living room was not more
than 10x12 feet in size and one-fourth of
this space was taken up by the great chim
ney, which formed the oven, the cooking
stove and the heating arrangement ot the
but This chimney was fully six feet wide
and about eight teet long, and its front,
in which were holes for luel and an oven,
rose from the floor to the ceiling. In the
VTIXAGE DINNER.
side facing the room, leaving about two feet
for the chimney, there was cut out under
the ceiling a ledce about three feet high
and of the depth of the stove. This was in
fact the top of the stove, and it formed, I
was told, the bed ot the lamilv in the win.
ter time. This family included several
married sons and daughters, and it had in
addition to the old folks about 12 children
and grandchildren. In some way or another
they all packed themselves in on this ledge
at night, and they huddled together upon
the log floor below in the day time.
2to Effort at OrnamntatIon.
The whole space in the room was not
much larger than that of one of a six-room
house occupied by an American day laborer,
and its furniture consisted of lour rude
stoves, some benches which ran around the
walls, and a rude table, on which the family
ate their meals. There were no pictures on
the walls and no plaster nor paper. In one
corner hung a rude painting of the Virgin,
with a little candle burning before it, and I
noted that while I was present one of the
girls looked at this and crossed herself. On
one ot the benches lay a sheepskin coat,
and I saw one carment hanging from the
walL It there were any other clothes be
longing to the family they may have been
stored in a box, which I saw in the room
outside, but they were not in sight.
The Russian peasant requires but a small
wardrobe. He puts on one shirt and wears
it out, sticking to it night and day. Neither
sex has any use for night shirts and all the
family sleep in the same clothes that they
wear in the day time. They know nothing
of bed clothing nor of the luxury of clean
sheets and soft pillows and they sleep more
like sheep than like men. Young girls and
young men, married and single, babies and
grandmothers, all crowd in together, and the
animal heat of the whole added to that of
the stove must give them warmth. Their
winter clothing is made up largely of sheep
skins with the wool turned inward, and the
people seem to stand the heat and cold
equally well Their clothes must cost them
but little. The men near calico pantaloons
in the summer and they haTe red calico
shirts, which they wear outside of their
pantaloons.
Bow the Feet Are Dressed.
The latter are hela up by a string around
the waist and often turned in at the legs be
low the knee, being wrapped about with
the rags which form the stockings of peas
ant Russia. These rags are wrapped about
the feet and over the ankles and around the
lower part of the calves. If the Russian is
rich enough be puffs a pair of high boots
over them, and into the tops ot these he
stuffs his pantaloons. It he is poor, as is
the case with ninety-nine hundredths of his
kind, he wears felt boots in the winter and
low slippers in the summer. These slippers
are of woven grass or bark. They are made
without heels and are worn bv alL The
peasant girls, in fact, wear the same kind of
lootgear as the boys, and the belle ot one of
the Russian villages never knows the Re
lights of barber-polt stockings, and her
garters do not cost her a shilling in a life
time. Neither sex wears any underclothing, and
a great step will have been made when vou
can make these people believe that such
items as drawers and undershirts are among
the absolute necessities of life. As it is
their needs are so small that they have not
the incentives to work to satisfy them that
we have, and a man's whole summer outfit
would not cost as much as an American far
mer spends for a coat. Their headgear is as
cheap as the rest of their clothes, and 'the
men all wear caps when they weir any
thing and the women tie up their heads in
bright colored handkerchiefs, fastening
thete by knotting them under the chin.
Toilet of a Ylliaga Hello.
No Russian peasant fcirl ever dreams of
buying or wearing corsets or stays and htr
entire outfit at this time of the year consists
of this handkerchief lor her head, a Mother
Hubbard gown of white cotton or red or
blue calico which reaches almost to her
ankles, aud an apron which is gathered in
and cut low at the neck, and which tails to
below her knees, sometimes being belted in
at the waist and sometimes left to fall over
her full bust without being so tied. In ad
dition to these she has rag stockings reach
ing to the tops of her calves and a pair of
bark shoes. In many cases she dispenses
with the belt, apron and shoes.
This habit of wearing the same clothes
day and night and the lack of underclothing
aAjeir$ Ay, ijSft.tr'rl'ffiTsi .flfrt '
THE
would naturally make you think that the
Russians must be the dirtiest of races, I do
not find them so, and it seems to me that
they hare been greatly slandered in regard
to their uncleanlineas. How they keep
themselves so I cannot see, but they are not
halfso dirty as the Chinese, and they will
rank in cleanliness with the other very poor
people of the world. They do not wash as
olten as we do, but when they do wash they
make a business of it, and clean themselves
with the famous Russian bath. No man or
woman who does not 'take either a Turkish
or Russian bath now and then ever gets
clean. I venture that nlnty-nine .hun
dredths of the readers of this letter have
never known what it is to be really clean.
The pores of one's body are 'the sewers of
the system and the ordinary soap scrubbing
which most people call washing only
touches the mouths of these and does not
reach the interior of the million odd sewer
pipes of the system at alL The only way
to clean these is by copious perspiration
continued for some time, and this result Is
attained by the Russian bath.
Taking a Bath In an Oven.
These people boil themselves at least once
a week in steam to bring about this result,
and if they cannot get the steam tbey crawl
into the ovens and sweat it out. Nearly
sSSC:
JL Peasant and Hit Wife.
every village has a steam bath house and
tbe whole population turns out every Sat
urday and before every holy communion,
confession or fast day, and ior the time be
comes bodily clean. I am told that in the
villages both sexes go into the bath at the
same time. It is said that no other person
but a Russian could stand the experience of
one of these vapor baths such as are taken
in the same oven in which the family bakes
its bread, and I am sure no other person
would rare to utilize the bakeoven for that
purpose. I hear that in the winter the
peasants sometimes rush naked out from the
bath and roll in the snow, and this I can
conceive to be possible, for in the country
villages of Japan a man will come naked
from the hot bath into the cold winter air
and walk home with his olothes under his
arm.
Of course, villages of this nature have no
sanitary arrangements whatever. There are
no street lamps or water works, and tbe
women of the lamily draw the water from
the well of the town or carry it from the
nearest stream. No Russian girl of such a
Eeasant village ever sees a washboard nor
as any idea of washing machines or patent
wringers. She does not even know what a
wash tub is, and the clothes of the family
are carried by her to the nearest stream, and
standing in the water she pounds the dirt
out ot them with a club.
A Rich Family at Dinner.
I went with the Countess Tolstoi through
one of her villages on the Tolstoi estate,
and in one of the houses which we visited
we found the family at dinner. The Count
ess told me that this was one of the richest
families oi peasants she bad on her estate,
and what do you think was their menu? It
was cabbage soup and rye bread. The
family were sitting around the table and
there were about ten of them in all. Each
had a wooden spoon and they were scoop
ing out the soup at a great rate. They had
no butter and no meat, and the Russian
peasants see but little ot either. They are
happy if they get a bit of meat once a week,
and their chief diet is cabbage soup and rye
bread, with a sort of buckwheat mush as a
change. They have milk from their cows and
eggs from their hens, and their favorite
drink is a sort oi beer which they make
from black bread called kvas. They are
very rigid as to the fast days and they
eat now and then a bit of dry fish, which
is cheap in Russia. They are fond
of sour cabbage and cucumbers, and they eat
their cucumbers raw with the skins on. But
they have no idea of what we would call
garden stuff, and in the famine part ot Rus
sia, where the people are still being largely
supported by charity, there are vast quanti
ties of greens going to waste which would be
used greedily in anv other part of Euroneor
in the United States. In the black plain
which I have described as the garden of Rus
sia and as the most fertile part of Europe I
visited a village where I found the bake
oven of a large landed proprietor going night
and day baking American corn meal and
flour into bread for the people. There were
hundreds of loaves ot this black bread in
the ovens, and the villagers came every
day to get food.
Hbank G. Caepeitteb.
TEE SPORT OP MOUNIAINEEEINQ.
Regularity of Pace Is an Essential Factor In
beating Peaks.
St. Louis Globe-Democrat. 1
Climbing is but ohe requisite of mount
aineering. Average activity plug intelli
gence are better than exceptional muscu
larity. There is a knack in climbing, and
guides 60 years old possessing it will tire
out young men, The essence of walking up
hill, whether on snor, rock or path, is the
cultivation of a quiet swing and a methodi
cal rhythm of gait. A certain slight degree
of roll, or, to put it more scientifically, of
swinging of the pelvis, or hips, is of the
first importance. The front leg should,
as it were, drag up the binder one.
The beginner usually walks up hill with
far too lively an action. In ascending he
raises his weight by a spring from the toe
oi the lower foot. -This method throws a
great strain on a small group of muscles
(those of the calf of the leg) which have,
lor the moment, to support nearly the
whole weight of the body. The older
climber will use the muscles of the hip as
well as of the calf, and swine along with
out tiring any special set of muscles. The
regularity or rhythm of the pace is of the
first importance. The test ol good climb
ing is the power to converse without breath
lessness. To ascend 3,000 ieet in four hours,
including halts, is satisfactory average
work. This is without step cutting.
Descending requires more praotice than
ascending, the usual mistake being to put
too much exertion into each step. The use
ot tbe rope is an education in itself. The
pull upon it from an accident may come at
any moment and usually happens at the
safest looking places in the snow. The use
of the ax and alpenstock is to be learned
only by months of praotice. Then come
weather signs, perhaps most momentous of
all. Truly the mountaineer must be a great
repository of special knowledge.
Animals That Can Pall.
The shell-less limpet pulls 1,934 times its
own weight when in the air, and abont
double that amount when immersed in
water. Pasting fleas on an average pull
1,493 times their own dead weight, while
the Mediterranean cockle, Yenus verrucosa,
can exert a pulling power equal to 2,071
timet the weight of its own body. So great
is the power possessed by the oyster that to
open it a force equal to 1,819.5 times the
weight of its shell-less body is required.
An E'ectrical Freak
A wonderful electrical phenomenon was
observed 'at Binghamton, N. Y., during a
severe thunder storm some time ago. While
tbe storm was at its height the clouds were
suddenly illuminated by several dazzling
ribbons of electrical flames and at the same
time an immense ball ot fire appeared and
descended with tearful velocity, striking the
street and bounding upward, exploding ith
a sharp report.
JfrftAnffit
PITTSBURG DISPATCH.
i BLACK BELT CHURCH
The Preacher Holds Hia Hymnal Up
side Down and Yet Beads.
HIS CONGREGATION GETS NOISY.
Novel Scenes at a Wedding in TVhici the
Twain-Were Hade Twins.
THE BARRIER BUILT IN .BLOOD
iroBBisroxDixcs or thz dispatch.
SELMA, -4LA., August 10.
To see ourselves as others see us.
What an air of sacredness envelopes a
country church t The rough wooden pews
and desks seem to partake of the baptismal
fount and consecrated cup, Ben has taken
us all to his church, or, as he calls it, "my
meetin' bouse."
What a quaint old place it isl Only a
rude building made of logs and plastered
with mud! No stained glass windows or
cushioned pews greet your eyes as you en
teronly a few wooden benches, a dozen or
two chairs and adeskl
Some good sister has made a scarf of cot
ton bleaching to cover the desk and upon
it rests the Sacred Book. Ben took us early
that we might see and be seen. Yes, and
that we might ask any question before the
minister came.
On Preacher for Fortr Tears.
What; a history that church has. It was
built before the war and has always been
used by the colored people as a church.
The minister well, he has been preaching
in that place for forty years and has never
missed a Sunday. What a dear old man he
ist If he were only as strong from his
shoulders up as he is from his shoulders
down he wonld be a grand specimen of
manhood. He is illiterate, but, as Ben
says, "He sure preaches fac's and has done
'save many a soul from hell; he 'sure help a
wretch undone."
As be enters the pulpit he picks up a
hymnal and lines the following hymn:
Jnst as I am without one plea,
A shelter in the time of storm.
Bnt that Thy rjlood was shed for me,
A shelter In tbe time of storm.
O, Jesus is the Rock in a weary land,a weary
land, a weary land,
O, Jesus Is the Bock in a weary land,
A shelter in a time of storm.
I notice that the hymnal is turned upside
down and wonder how it is that the good
parson can read so readily.
He begins tbe second verset
Just as I am and waiting not,
A shelter in a time of storm.
Too
"O, brethrendis yere hymn done fill my
soul enuf; wedoan sing no moh."
We learned after church that he had for
gotten the hymn and bad taken this as a
means ot saving himself.
An Exulting Time in Church.
A few simple prayers followed the sing
ing and then the parson announced his text:
"For ol Such is the Kingdom of Heaven."
It was an original sermon, and one which
stirred the hearts of his congregation. Men
and women forgot their home lite and social
ties, and thought only of their souL Some
With Hit Hymnal Upside Down.
grew very happy and threw themselves
prostrate upon the floor; some danced and
shouted for joy; others clapped their bands
and shouted: " 'Sank yo', Jesus, yo done
save my soul."
I grew a little frightened, but Ben told
me to be quiet, that the minister wonld not
think his sermon "good" unless "da folks
f:ot happy." Even Ben himself grew de
ighted, and the minister shouted: "Men
and bretherin, up in hebben da am a tree,
an' on dis yere tree da am some fritters, and
dese yere fritters are all cooked and hot.
Bless de Lawd, my bretherin, for by de side
of dis yere tree da am a ribber, an' dis yere
ribber am a ribber of lasses, an' all yo' has
ter do is reach up, pick a fritter and sop an'
eat, fo' men an bretherin, such is de king
dom of hebben."
And then followed a long discourse upon
the happiness of the saints, etc. My pen
fails to convey to you the expression of the
faces in that congregation.
Again another hymn is lined:
So glad, so glad I'so done been converted:
So glad, so glad de Lawd Ho save my soul.
Ee save my soul from destruction,
So glad, so glad he done save my soul.
I's glad, so glad I done nab conquered
Satan: .
Bo glad, so glad I've fonn' de Lawd, my
God.
Lawd, bub mercy, Lawd, hah mercy;
So glad, so glad be done save my souL
Stories From the Cemetery.
After tbe benediction we pass through the
little cemetery which surrounds the church
God's Acre, it has been fitly called. The
sun plays hide and seek around the little
tombstones, roses bloom uoon the travel.
and the wind, rose-laden, breathes softly
through the trees. On one tombstone we
read:
Annie L. died Aug. 20, 1SG3, at Ave In the
morning, leaving a husband and six small
children to mourn ber loss.
Why do they say yon have dtedi Anniet
If you could speak you would say as you
said that morning long ago. Tbey have
killed me, thoy Have beaten me to death!'
Tour bi ulsed and soarred body spoke more
eloquently than human tongue.
On another stone we read:
Eolte, an octoroon, aged 2L Poor and
beautiful.
None loved ber best!
I asked Ben if he knew the story of her
life and he said yes. She had centered her
life, her love, her interests upon one object
and had seen him gather to himself a new
love. This poor octoroon had tasted the
bitter sweet of life and, too weak to fight
life's battles alone, she had dared to lace
the awful mystery of death and had
ended her own life. -
What stories of woe that old cemetery
could tell! To the quie't sleeper in this
God's Acre the grave had become the door
through which they entered heaven, the re
ceptacle in which they placed their worn
out garments. Tbe birds in the trees seemed
to chant a requiem for the repose of their
souls. No more pain and sorrow. Truly,
truly, "Life begins, life suffers, life endsl"
A Black Belt Wedding.
Ben's daughter was married this week and
we were all invited to the wedding. It was
a picturesque and beautiful sight. The
barefooted pickaninnies, the "old aunties
and uncles, the gemmen, the bridemalds
and the bride and groom. The little parlor
was adorned with flowers and mosses, the
old-fashioned mantelpiece 'had beoome a
bower of loveliness. The dining room
tables were loaded with unlimited refresh-
V
V
sy4jrforfoliyft
.ii 3r --
titJCtvifJtn MX -f'Jia j
SUNDAY. AUGUST 21,
ments and everybody was anxiously await
ing the arrival of the minister.
Imagine my surprise when I saw it was
the same reverend gentleman I had heard
preach on Sunday. I wondered what errors
he would make during the ceremony and if
I would laugh.
The bride and groom enter, there are no
maids of honor, no wedding march yes,
there is, but it is the sobbing of tbe dear
old mother as she wonders if her "chile
will be happy." The couple take their
places in front of the minister and the cere
mony begins. '
What matters it if the minister pro
nounces them "no longer twain, but twins'"
What matters it if Colonel B 's coach
man objects to her wedding " 'cause he sure
wants her his'sel'?" I notice that many of
the old couples in the room have gone back
to the time when thev began life together.
What a rugged hill they had been climbing!
How dearly they had grown to love each
other!
Marriage Is BIsky Business.
Ben looks at me and says: "Honey, I.
sure hope my gal be happy as de ole woman
an' me. It's pesky risky business dis yere
marryen' am; it sure is."
"I hope they are bappy,Ben; they deserve
to be."
The ceremony is over and the young wife
appears leaning on her husband's arm. See
how proudly she looks at him.
The guests now pass into the dining room
for refreshments. As they take their places
at the table I wonder what they will do
And fse Twain Shall Be Twins.
with me. Will I be assigned a place beside
Ben? Perhaps he reads my thoughts, for
he says: "Chile, yo' doan sit at no table
wid niggers. Meh lady, yo' place is in
heah. Is yo afraid yo' would have to eat
wid us?"
He takes me into a little room and leaves
me. How kind and thoughtful of himl His
guestl aud yet I eat not at his table. I
must be taken into a private room and have
a table all to myself. I can hear the laugh
ter of the negroes in the dining room. I
would like to hear their merrymaking and
watch the bride cnt the bride's cake, but
white blood prevents that.
Luck for the Dappy Couple.
What showers of rice and melon seed
rain upon the young couple as they leave
Ben's bouse for their own cabin. Some one
throws a horse shoe for lnck and the nails
catch in the crisp calioo dress of the bride.
How everyone shrieks with delight. "To
sure will be rich;" "To sure is lucky;"
"To sure be blessed;" "To sure have
health and die old."
One of the "aunties" takes a twine from
her pocket aud tries to lasso the bride.
Ask her why she does that and she says,
"'Ter keep her home free from spirits and
her old man from drinkin'. It sure is a
true sign."
When I leave Ben that evening I say,
"Ben now remember you are to go to a
white church with me." Helooksatme in
amazement and replies: "What pore Ben do
in a white church chile? He sure look like
a blackberry in a saucer of cream. Doan
vo' know black folks better go with black
folks? Its better fo' all."
Miss Jo. Mast.
LOBSTER A LA NEWBUBO.
The Curious Way In Which a Favorite FIs h
Came to Be Named.
New York San.
Everybody who has a chance to dine at
first-class restaurants once in a while knows
lobster a la Newburg by name if not by
sight and taste, that probably he has won
dered why a little city on the Hudson and
has no lobsters, or, at least, does not get
them fresh, should give its name to this
felicitous and richly seasoned article of
diet. Well, Newburg has nothing to do
with it, for the name is a concealed compli
ment, bestowed on the inventor of the dish
by the late Mr. Delmonico.
Among the guests of his hostelry was a
gentleman a little past middle life, who
wore a gray mustache and a blue necktie,
and wbo used to take his meals in the cafe,
where he could smoke and be at ease. He
is dead now. One evening while at dinner
he was in the act of pulling a lobster to
pieces, when tbe proprietor sauntered near.
He said: "Look here, Delmonico, is this
the best you can do?"
"It is certainly the best way to eat lob
ster," answered the host
"I'll lay you a hundred I'll show you a
better way."
"Done," said Delmonico.
Two or three friends were Invited over to
the table to act as judges and to hold the
stakes. The man with a blue necktie sent
for a chafing dish, a lobster, and certain in
gredients, and then and there compounded
the viand that is served all over the coun
try now. The party devoured it, pro
nounced it good, and Mr. Delmonico grace
fully owned that he had lost his bet.
Shortly afterward there appeared on Del
moniro's bills of fare, "Homard a la New
burg." He wanted to give credit to the in
ventor of the dish, but for fear lest he
might offend him he transposed the letters
in the first syllable of his name, so that the
man with the blue necktie, who was really
Mr. Wenburg, is disguised in fame as New
burg. TEE ART OF FASCINATI0H.
It Must Always Be Cultivated Early and In
the Home Circle.
Philadelphia Becord.j
The secret of fascination is one which
many a woman would sacrifice a great deal
to learn. To cultivate a charming and at
tractive manner one must begin at home,
and surely abetter school could not be de
vised, for the training is, in its way, perfec
tion. Here you are sure to find each day little
rubs which must be soothed with skillful
touch; there Is a constant mind friction go
ing on among even the most devoted mem
bers of the household. It is a painful fact,
though none the less true, 1 hat one's family
aots as a constant counter-irritant. Now a
steady effort to smooth over the rough
laces, minister to wounded heartsand'with
eft touches erase unpleasant memories is
called for, and the woman who obeys the
summons is pretty sure to find herself fully
able to cope in the most agreeable fashion
with the outside world.
Few women, however, realize that a fas
cination ot manner is not born, but culti
vated. It begins to bud in the nursery, de
velops under the skillful training ot pains
taking instructors, and blossoms iorth into
complete beauty in the society ot well
bred women.
Nw Uie for Eggs.
There is no reason in the world why any
well-ordered hen should feel discouraged in
these days. There is always plenty of work
for a live, industrious hen to do; for, apart
lrom the enormous quantities of eggs men,
women and children eat in the oourse of the
year, over 3,000,000 of them are consumed
alone by three factories in this oountry
which make the albumen-paper used in
photography.
AjroosnmA Bitten are the best remedy
for removing indigestion.
1891
SALT IN HOT WEATHER
A Physician Says There Is Season
for Its Use in Cholera Times.
THE BODY RUNS ODT OF CHLORINE.
Bicycle Hiding the Beat Known Cure for
Stomach Troubles.
GERMS AND ACIDS 0. THE TEETH.
whittix tor the DisrjiTcn.l
The steady advance of the cholera in
Southwestern Europe awakens so much
general interest in the subject that all oi
the old remedies of this scourge are being
recalled, and efiorts are being made to man
ufacture new ones. In an outbreak of Asi
atic cholera years ago it was proclaimed by
some eminent physicians that by the free
use of the chlorides the disease could be
checked. Examination of cholera victims
showed their bodies deficient in chlorine.
But experience has not proved this
theory correct. Nevertheless they have a
beneficial'influenoe upon tbe system when
attacked by the disease. Salt especially has
been recommended for cholera in all its
forms.
The loss of salt to the system in
hot weather, when the cholera and
similar diseases are prevalent, is great,
and this process exposes the system
to summer complaints and cholera mor
bus. It follows that salt is one of the
best diets that we can take into the sys
tem, and besides curing these complaints it
will generally prevent them from attacking
the system if plenty of salt is eaten daily.
The system craves salt at such times, and
until it has more than it needs the taste of
salt will not be repulsive. It should be
taken with equal parts of raw cornstarch in
water and drank as often as possible with
out causing nausea. In some of the cholera
infected districts peasants take this simple
diet to prevent the genuine Asiatic cholera,
but how much good it does in such cases it
is difficult to say,
Tho Bicycle Cures Dyspepsia.
After examination of a great number of
statistics on tbe subject the inference is
drawn that bicycle riding, when properly
taken, is one of the best cures for dyspepsia
known to the medical profession. Pepsin
and other drugs are recommended to be laid
aside by the business and professional mao,
and after business hours every afternoon a
short ride on the bicycle should be taken at
a moderate speed. The exercise must be
stimulating and not exhausting. About one
hour daily is recommended for this exercise,
and beyond that pointthero is danger of
exhaustion. The pleasure of riding should
be taken systematically, and not spas
modically. This will generally cure all forms of dys
pepsia functional, emotional and nervous
disorders of the stomach. The man who
diligently worKs at manual labor for his
living seldom suffers from dyspepsia, be
cause his system can dispose of all the food
put in it: but sedentary workers have to
have deliciously cooked and appetizing
dishes set before them to make them eat.
Consequently there is taken into the system
material that is hard to digest, and some
strong physical exercise is needed daily to
stimulate the stomach in its work. Walking
is not sufficient exercise to cure or prevent
dyspepsia in such people. The bicycle ride
gives the necessary relief and relaxation of
the mind. Gout and rheumatism which haTe
been brought on by dyspepsiaare also great
ly relieved by this form of exercise. Evi
dently the bicycle has come to stay as a
health preserver if for nothing else, and
its use will continue to increase so long as
Americans persist in habits that cause dys
pepsia. Giving ? hlstcy to tba Baby.
The great mortality among infants in
cities could be partly prevented if mothers
would obey the few rules of hygiene that
are commonly laid down in every health
book. In hot weather all the light and ven
tilation possible should be admitted to the
house, and the young ones should be washed
two or three times a day in cool water.
The slighest symptoms of loose bowels
should be attended to before cholera in
fantum sets in. Sugar, candy, and other
sweets should be strictly kept away from
the young children and babies in hot
weather. More harm is brought on by
overfeeding than too little, and
mothers should see that the children
have only nourishing, cooling food
ot sufficient quantity to keep them
in health, and 'not to overload
their stomachs. Fnre water or barley
water is always safe to give the children,
and this may be administered in liberal
quantities. A few drops of whisky added
occasionally on verr hot days will" tend to
stimulate the child, and slake its thirst
more effectually. As mnch as possible
young children "should be given the liquid
foods, such as beef tea, or good, strong beef
soup. Hard crusts ot bread or dry crackers
are safe articles to eat when the child feels
like nibbling on something. Hot, or warm
new bread is dangerous for even the health
ier child in hot weather. Sinks, cesspools
and garbage places should be watched care
fully, and where any odor arises use deodor
izers or disinfectants.
Tobacco Kills Bacteria In the Month.
The decay of teeth is caused either by
chemical or parasitical processes,' and a
knowledge of the causes of these should be
of value to those wbo have sound teeth to
preserve. Lack of cleanliness of tbe mouth
causes the first Starchy and sacharrlne
substances remain in the mouth, and their
fermentation creates acids which destroy
the enamel and dentine of the teeth. The use
of nlentv of clean water and a stiff tooth
brush will generally preyent decay from this
cause, and antisep'tio tooth powder may be
,used in extreme cases. Tbe lodging of bac
teria in the mouth and feeding on the de
caying lood forms the second danger to the
teeth. Good germae'des can be used occa
sionally for this, but ii the mouth and teeth
are kept thoroughly clean bacteria will soon
disappear.
Tobacco fuice and smoke are considered
by some good disinfectants, and many have
their teeth preserved from bacteria by ex
cessive chewing or smoking. The bacteria
in the mouth and on the teeth become so
abundant in careless people that diseases
can often be transmitted by them to others.
The general practicing dentist often causes
this by using the same instruments for suc
cessive patients without using antisepting
washes between. Patients before going to
the dentist's chair should insist upon this as
much as one would who goes to get a shave.
He has his own cup, razor and soap, and by
this means he prevents contracting diseases
ot the skin. A. 8. Atkinson, M. D.
The Mmn-Facd Crab,
One of the most singular-looking
creatures that ever walked the earth, or
"swam the waters under the earth," is the
world-famous man-faced crab ot Japan. Its
body is hardly an inoh in length, yet the
head is fitted with a face which is the per
fect counterpart of a Chinese coolie a ver
itable missing link, with eyes, nose and
mouth all clearly defined. This curious and
uncanny creature, besides the great like
ness it bears to a human being in the face,
is provided with two legs which seem to
grow from the top of its head aud hang
down over the side of its face.
Bow Languages Art Spoken.
A German authority tays that almost a
third of all humanity, that is, 400,000,000,
speak the Chinese language. Then the
Hindoo language is spoken by more than
100,000.000. In the third place stands the
English, spoken by almost 100.000,000.
Fourth, the Russian, with 89,000,000, while
the German language is spoken by 67,000,000
tongues, and the Spanish by 48,000.000. Of
the European languages the ITrencn is fifth
in place.
1 llssssPI V
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PllK2
ISKfJIWi X " J
WBITTES FOB THE DISPATCH
BY DORA RUSSELL,
Author of "Footprints in the Snow," "The Broken Seal," 'The
Track of the Storrn," "A Fatal Past," Etc
COPTBIGHT, 1892,
SYNOPSIS OF tBEVIOU3 CHAPTER!
The story Is laid In England aud Scotland. The heroine, Miriam Clydo and Joan, the
wife of General Conray, are sisters. Joan had loved another before her marriage; Hugx
Ferrars loved Miriam. One day Ferrers sees Joan's lover with her in the garden. ML
taklng Mrs. Conray for Miriam he kills ber lover in a lit of jealousy. He escapes and Joins
the army as a private. Miriam, to shield her sister, testifies that it wa3 she who was with,
Forrara victim in the garden. Sir James JIacKennon, Bart, falls in lovo with Miriam,
Her parents favor the suit. Thinking Ferrars ia gone forever Miriam sets the wedding
day. Ferrars la wounded at target practice near Miriam's home. She helps care for him
and recognizes him. Then follow clandestine meetings. Miriam begs a hundred pounds
from Sir James to give to Fei rars to help him go to Africa. He wltl not accept. After
Miriam's marriage Ferrars follows her toner Scotland home and begs ono more meeting
before he eaves forever. She consents and Sir James discovers the pair together. Sir
James forbids Miriam his house. A telegram comes that Joan is dying. Miriam goes. Oa
her deathbed Joan confesses to her husband and la forgiven.
CHAPTER XXV.
A -WOMAN'S HAIR.
"Joan wishes to see you," said Miriam
tremulously; "she she wishes to tell you
something something that is preying on
her mind."
"Not, not about P.obert Conray?" asked
the grey-haired General in violent agita
tion. Miriam cast down her eyes.
"Then you lied to me in Scotland?" went
on the General, his pallid face flushing
strangely. "And now on her deathbed I
am to hear the truth."
"It, it is very sad," said Miriam, and her
eyes were full of tears. ,
"Sad?" echoed General Conray; "it is
death to me; would that I had died before
her; died before the black shadow of doubt
stole into my heart."
"But, but she has suffered so much,"
pleaded Miriam, "and she was but a girl, a
young girl OhI General Conray, speak
kindly to her let her die in peace."
The old man made no answer; he covered
his face with his hand; he turned away his
bead, aud for a moment or two Miriam dare
not disturb his grief.
"She is so anxious to see you," presently
said Miriam.
"Let me have a little time Miriam, after
I saw you in Scotland I went to Newbrough-on-the-Sea,
and was recalled from there by
the news of Joan's relapse. Bnt when
there I learned that a soldier had been
stationed there; a soldier who bore the name
of Dare, who bad gone on furlough a day
before my arrival at the place, and from the
disoription of this man I believe him to be
Ferrars, the murderer of Robert Conrav."
"I cannot tell," said Miriam, as steadily
as she could.
"Joan in her ravings said you knew; I be
lieve you do know, though you will not tell
IT BEOKK STST
the truth. Do you know where he is now?"
IIXTn T An nnt "
At this moment Mrs. Clyde, who had heard
voices on the corridor as her bedroom was
situated there, came out of her room and
joined the General and Miriam.
"Have you left her Miriam? Is anyone
with her?" asked Mrs. Clyde.
"I came to ask the General to go to her,"
answered Miriam, "she wishes to see him."
"I will go," said General Conray, briefly,
and he was moving away in the direction of
Joan's room, when Miriam ran after him
and laid her hand upon his arm.
"Oh I be kind to her," she whispered;
"don't let her drift away from you in
The General did not speak; a look of In
tense pain passed over his worn ieatures,
and that was all, and then he moved on,
and Miriam turned again to face her mother.
'Ton have come to a sad house, Miriam,"
said Mrs. Clyde. "I have not yet even had
strength of mind to go down to speak to Sir
James, but I suppose your lather is with
him?"
"He is not here, mother," answered Mir
iam, and her eyes felL
'Nothere?'' repeated Mrs. Clyde, in the
greatest surprise. "Do you mean to tell
me he allowed yon to come all the way
from Scotland alone?"
"No, the butler and Ford came with me,"
said Miriam, for she felt her mother's keen
eyes were fixed on her face. "James could
not come something prevented him."
Mrs. Clyde said nothing further, but she
looked and felt uneasv. Then she began
talking about Joan, and told Miriam that
the change for the worse had come very un
expectedly. "And and is there no hope?" asked
Miriam, with faltering tongue.
"I fear none," answered Mrs. Clyde sor
rowfully) "it is a sad, sad thing to be cut off
so young and so beautiful as she was; I fear
it will just break the General's heart."
Bhe did not know that the General's
heart was already broken. He was sitting
at this moment by Joan's bedside, and ber
thin hand lay in his. He had said no word
of reproach; he asked no questions, and his
eyes were fixed on the face of his dying
wife,
"Did did Miriam tell you what I wish
you now to know?" presently asked Joan,
baking up,
"JB&P
trMSf
!fte
-
BT DOBA BUSSELL.
'She told me that you wished to see me,"
answered the General, in a low faltering
voice.
"I wish you to know the truth about
Robert Conray before I die, "said Joan with
a great effort. "I wish you to know all my
sin and my shame, and the secret of his
death."
The General started and bit his pallid
lips.
"It was I, not Miriam, who wis with him
on the night of his murder," continued
Joan, forcing the dreadful words from her
quivering lips. "He he was my lover
we used to. meet in secret, and that night
we had me."
The General turned away bis head; he
had half believed this before, but to hear it
was terrible; to hear it from Joan's own
lips.
"We were together, and Ferrars, Miriam'a
lover, who had come in secret to Tyeford,
as you objected to hi3 visits on account of
Miriam, came into the grounds to meet
Miriam when we were there. He mistook
me for Miriam, and in a jealous rage he
he shot poor Robert he died in my arms."
She said no more, nor did the General
speak. He sat there with his bowed head
and his ashen face, and Joan lay back
breathless and exhausted. Presently, how
ever, she revived a little and fixed her
sunken eyes on the General's face.
"Can you forgive me, mr husband?" she
said, in a hollow voice. "Forgive me before
I die?"
Then the General fell down on his knees
by the bedside.
"If if rav forgiveness can comfort you,
Joan," he faltered. "I forgive you from my
heart."
"God will forgive me if you do," gasped
Joan, and a great change came over her
face. "Kiss me, my husband."
He bent his head and kissed her, and he
saw as he did so that her last moments were
come. He therefore hastily rang tbe bell
for the others, and lifted ber head upon his
arm. A smile stole over her face, and her
BEABT, MTEIAM.
dying eyes were fixed on his. Then her lips
moved, and he bent nearer to catch the
words.
"Forgive Robert," she whispered
hoarsely, and a groan broke from the
General's lips as he listened. Robert was
her last thought, for when he laid her head
once more on the pillow, Joan was dead.
Sir James returned to the house after
Miriam had left Kintore, with a heavy
heart and a moody brow. He had seen her
bend forward as if to catch a parting glimpse
of him, as the carriage drove away, and this
act, which a day ago would have given him J
a thrill of pleasure, seemed now only to add 7
to his restless pain.
He seemed, Indeed, to have lost all inter
est in everything. His head groom pres
ently came to the house and asked to see
him, to tell him about the injured horse at
Strathloe, and Sir James listened listlessly.
The man wanted the horse brought back to
KIntore. as "he isn't happy there, Sir
James," said the groom, "he's not used to
that kind.of stables, ye know."
For something to try to divert his
thoughts, Sir James then said he would
walk over to Strathloe and see what he
thought. He did this, and his horse whined
when be entered the inn stables. Sir James,
who was fond of animals and very kind to
them, went up and patted his glossy coat
and examined his knees, and finally agreed
with the groom he would be better at home.
This being settled, Sir James walked back
to Kintora. He was in that restless, mis
erable state of mind when we move from
place to place, and find no relief anywhere.
And so the day wore on. but about 3 o'clock
a servant came to tell him that the land
lord of the little inn at Strathloe wished
to see him very particularly
"What does he want?" asked Sir James,
somewhat impatiently.
Stubbs, bis servant, could not tell him,
and it ended by Sir James going into the
ball to speak to the landlord, who was
named Mulr.
"Well, Mr. Muir," he said, "anything
the matter?"
The landlord wiped his brow with his red
cotton handkerchief, though the day was
cold, before he answered.
"I'm very sorry to say there Is, Six
James," na said.
"What is it then?"
"That poor geatlemaa, 2C& Dare, tSt -jm
i
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