TB.E BEAUTY OF THE SEASON.
BT !'• B- W.
To be the first at ball or hop,
To have boiiquetß by aosena;
To wake the boyish love of male,
And hate of female, cousins ;
To say and do just what you please,
Ajul without "rhyme or reason,"
And yet be pleased—this is to be
The "Beauty of the Season."
You're witching; thero's 110 doubt of that,
Your very smile 1b winning;
One glanco from those bewildering eyes
Sets uearts aud heads a-sninniug.
But when a Buitor comes for life,
You flirt beyond all reason ;
And so you'll die an old maid yet,
My "Beauty of the Season."
SPECTER OF THE CLIFFS
An Adventure In the Far West.
BY AD H. GIBSON.
*\ HE bold, far-sweeping j
liockies were veiled in tlie
I purple shadows that suc
-4 reed early nightfall.
Earnest Tune was be
i lated. He had been in
VjSSj>p ur sn i t of mountain
isV'CT l grouso up n wild, inter
minable canyon, and he
(Sr. was now returning
to camp over a rough,
rocky way, leading
y through lonely gorges,
such as one sees nowhere as in the
picturesque State of Colorado. His
pony had that day lost a shoe. Hence,
it was not possible to urge the animal
rapidly over the uneven road, or Tune,
much as he wished to get back to his
comrade at the camp, disliked to bo
inhuman enough to do so.
Occasionally, his path would be sur
rounded by high, dark, frowning
ridges of rock, whispering pine trees
clung lonesomely, and seemed to awe
into murmurloss subjection the dwarf
cedars below them. Then, again,
down into picturesque gullies, with
limpid mountain streams urging their
torturous courses among tlio eternally
silent bowlders that jutted ever and
anon across the canyons and gulches
through which he guided his pony.
At one of these beautiful streams
Earnest Tune reined in and permitted
the thirsty animal to drink. One by
one the stars had crept out in the violet
vault above, so far, far above, from
horse aud rider in the gorge. Dense
shadows lurked about aud refused to
yield space to the dainty starlight that
dared invade those dark, gloom
enshrouded recesses. The young man
looked about him. The night was calm.
The scene was sublime. Here the din
and tinsel display of boasted civiliza
tion were unknown. To a young fellow
used all his life to a homo in a gay
Eastern city, the gulch,with its gloomy
mountains reaching away pliantasmal
ly into the night, held something inex
pressibly fascinating, almost divine.
To his right, and overlooking the spot
where he had paused, loomed bold, out
standing cliffs, their rugged sides hero
and there clothed in meager patches of
spruce and pine, their summits gray,
vague and barren, as if Ceres and Flora
had united in afllicting them with an
irremovable, blighting curse. As his
eyes swept the shadowy cliffs he start
ed and almost leaped from his saddle.
Earnest Tuno was an educated man
and not given to superstition and wild
imaginings. He had always hooted the
idea of supernatural visitations. But
now! lle was confronted by an appa
rition as beautiful as it was startling.
Brave as he was, he felt his blood grow
chilly, and he seemed deprived of the
power to speak or stir.
The spectacle that enchained liis
gaze was a most lovely object, ghostly
though it was. A beautiful girl, clad
in a white, flowing dress, with wild
masses of midnight tresses falling
around a pnlo, delicate face, stood re
vealed on the lone mountain side. She
stood directly within tho halo of a
strange, greenish light that glowed
steadily, casting its deathly hues
around the weird yet namelessly lovely
figure of the cliffs.
"Great heavons!" he managed at last
to articulate, though his voice was
hoarse and unnatural. "Am linn
dream ? How awful, yet how beauti
ful !"
With one pale hand she motioned
him away, away. But Earnest sat as
if transfixed, and continued to gaze
with terrified fascination upon tho
spectral object of tho cliffs. What
could she mean by waving him off ?
Suddenly the animal censed drink
ing, lifted its head, saw the specter in
all its beauty and awfulness, uttered a
snort of terror, and ere the spell-bound
rider know it tho pony had cleared the
rocky stream, leaped away through the
dusk of the gorgo, and was rapidly
bearing him from the ghostly vision on
the mountain.
Allien Earnest succeeded in quieting
down his animal, they had got too fat
to go back. Ho was venturesome
enough to do 80, and resolved to in
vestigate the mystery on the following
night, alone, if he could not persuade
his friend to accompany him. The
pony trembled in overy limb and
showed evidence of deep fright.
Very soon horse and rider stopped
before a tent in a charming green
valley, not more than two miles from
the haunted cliffs. Earnest dis
mounted, put his horse away, and en
tered the tent, where his comrade was
waiting supper for him.
Earnest Tunc and Willard Rollerton
■were young men from New York, out
on a sporting expedition in the West.
Bollerton, a good looking, well-made,
dark-eyed fellow, was engaged to
pretty Gertrude Tune, Earnest's only
sister. The marriage was set for early
winter, and tho young friends were en
joying an outing in Colorado ere the
wedding came off.
As Earnest entered the tent, Willard
greeted him:
"Hello i you didn't find the grouso?
Hut, I say, old paid, you are as pale
as a spook."
"Ami?" Earnest said, as indiffer
ently as he could; and he removed his
hat and approached his friend, saying:
"Just have tho kindness to tell me if I
have turned gray."
Willard playfully ran his fingers
through the luxuriant gold-brown
curls of bis sweetheart's brother (so
like the tresses beloved), aud an
swered laughingly: "I H n ,i n o silver
threads among the geld. But wlmt
mystery have you to unfold? I know
from your manner you have, met with
some adventure. Come, let us eat,
and as we do so, you can recount any
thrilling TJte encounter or spectral
vision that you may have been favored
with."
And Earnest obeyed. As they at p.
their supper of delicious, fresh wild
gamo, he told Willord all that wo In. ve
told the reader with regard to the
specter of the cliffs. Willurd listened
with strange interest as his friend de
scribed the lonely vision. What could
it bo? He acrreed at once to assist
Earnest In investigating the mystery.
"How far are the cliffs from here?"
"Not more than two miles," Earnest
Time replied.
"Then, as it is early, let us go this
very night. Come, let ns load our
guns and be equipped should any dan
ger menace us," Willard said in a
cautious way, as they finished a hasty
meal.
They were soon capped and equipped
for their adventure.
"Now lead the way, Earnest. I never
saw a ghost in my life, and I am all
impatient to see one."
"Perhaps the visionary maiden will
not appear again to-niglit. But I hope
she may. Willard," suddenly chang
ing his tone, "how does it happen that
you never thought to doubt my strange
story? Perhaps I imagined it all."
"Your looks and manner convinced
me at once that something unusual had
happened to you. Ido not doubt that
you saw what you have related. But
Ito discover what it really is. is my mis
sion. I never see anything mysterious
but I try to ascertain its real nature.
Now lead on."
Earnest started to do so. But when
he gained the door of the tent ho be
came rooted to the spot. There, glid
ing swiftly over the flower-gemmed
valley, in the starlight, brighter here,
and approaching the tent, was the
lovely specter of the cliffs. She was
clad in lier white robes, but the strango
light that had surrounded her had van
ished. The young men watched her
approach with a strange, spell-bound
wonder in their gaze.
What could it meau? She seemed
to float toward them instead of walk
ing. The pleasant camp-fire threw
out a crimson reflection across the lit
tlo space before the tent and illumined
the white lady as she came on. Breath
lessly Earnest and Willard awaited
her approach. She drew near and
halted a few feet from them. Making
a motion to secure their silence by
placing the lily fingers of her shapely
hand over lior lips, she spoke:
"Not a word—not a question. If
you would save your lives, follow me."
Not like a ghost's sepulchral voice,
but like the dulcet ripples of a gentle
cascade among mountain fastnesses,
came those words of peculiar import.
"Follow me," repeated the voice.
"You will soon bo in peril. I will
lead you to a place of safety."
Should they heed the voice? The
strange vision, or whatever it was,
started away across the valley, beck
oning them to follow. It was too much
for Earnest Tune and Willard Iloller
ton, in the flush and wonder of their
adventurous young manhood, to resist.
They never paused to question the
plausibility of the sudden warning.
They shouldered their guns and set
"A SOLITARY MAN BITTING ON A PLAT BTONK."
forth at a rapid gait, following closely
in the rear of the specter of the cliffs.
Dimly through the gloom of the
gorge they followed their odd guide.
From what danger unseen was she con
ducting them ? They never stopped to
ask themselves, but kept on.
She might be leading them into a
trap. So intent were they on solving
the mystery they never gave that fear
a thought.
On and 011 slio led them. Over hard,
uneven, rocky paths, over dangerous
chasms where a single misstep would
have proved certain death, anil on into
the dark mountains they went.
At last the ghostly guide stopped
under a large, shelving crag that jutted
out over a considerable space of the
! gorge below. The pine trees of funereal
darkness sighed anil moaned, like lost
spirits, in the mountain wind. Wild,
dreary and lonesome the spot was.
Earnest and Willard came also to a halt.
The sjurit maiden again spoke:
"Hero vou are safe."
Earnest, who could control his curi
osity 110 longer, cried through the
gloom that divided them from their
guide:
"Are you spirit or flesh? For God's
sak, speak, I entreat you!"
! A low, silvery laugh answered him.
' A specter laugh! Oh, horrible!
[ "Draw nearer, and I shall answer
you," (he sweet voice said. The young
men did as requested. They leaned
ou their guns and awaited the informa
tion almost breathlessly.
"The superstitious Indians and min
ors about this gulch call me the 'Specter
Maiden of the Cliffs,' the spirit of an
emigrant's daughter murdered here
several years ago by a party of Mor
mon Dauites disguised as Indians." 1
The young men felt a thrill of hor
ror run through them.
Bhe wont on:
"Such a dark deed really did occur
years ago in this very gorge. Taking
advantage of that fact and the super
stition of the natives, my captors have
made me play specter on the cliffs
around this crag.
An exclamation of surprise burst
from the listeners and Earnest asked:
"Your captors? Who are they?
Tell us and we will gladly rescue you.
"Listen. My father and I were en
camped near here nearly two years
ago. One dark night a band of men
dressed as Utes attacked us. They
robbed us of everything, sparing our
lives only on our promise to go quietly
with them to their mountain fastnesses.
Life was dearer than death, so we ac
cepted the chief's terms. Our captors
proved to be a band of robbers, white
outlaws and lialf-breed fiends. Most
of the men have Indian wives and live
i |in the mountains near this gorge. I
'wftH treated kindly, after their rough
'fashion. My father has been confined
a close prisoner in a cave. The chief
bgrees to release him ouly on his word
of honor to espouse outlawry and aid
in their dark acts. Of course he re
fuses.
"The officers from one of the neigh
boring towns, where a bank was robbed
a year ago, have been searching for the
i robbers' quarters. Their guides are
Indians. Knowing their belief in ghosts
and such like spectral phenomena, I
made to dress in white to scare
them away from this part. Strango
lights were put at my feet, and I sup
pose my appearance was truly friglil
iul. Anyway, the uliost business acl-
Ed like a charm in scaring away the
poor red guides. Only this evening X
was obliged to play my ghostly role, as
the officers were supposed to be iu the
gorge."
"It was I," said Earnest, "and I as
sure you I was considerably startled.
But how did you happen to warn us ?"
"The robbers discovered your little
camp, and, learning you were tender
feet on a hunting trip, they decided to
attack you. I overheard their plans,
and the time set for the attack. I had
seen your camp from tho mountain. I
determined to make great risks to save
you. For the first time since our cap
ture. every robber except my father's
guard, left the quarters. Then was
my time. Telling the chief's squaw
that I had to go to the cliffs to plav
specter, I easily got away."
"Clod bless you, noble girl," said
Willard, sincerely. "You have not
told us your name."
"My name is Olive Olissom," she
said, simply.
"Olive Glissom!" repeated Willard
Holler ton, in an excited voice. "Are
you the daughter of Abner Glissom, of
0., in Ohio T"
"Abner Glissom is my father."
"Abner Glissom is my mother's
youngest brother, and you are my own
cousin, Olive," cried the young fellow
joyfully, pressing warmly the little
hand she permitted him to take.
"Cousin Willard, I am glad to know
you; and how sorry lam that the fool
ish coolness between our parents has
prevented our ever meeting. How
strange to meet you here."
"It is, indeed. But how happened it
that you and Uncle Abner came out to
these wilds?"
"Father was unfortunate in his busi
ness in Oliio. So we started to the
Colorado mines, only to fall into these
robbers' hands."
"My poor Olive!" said her newly
found kinsman, sympathetically. "But
let us not waste time. Tune and I
are well armed. Dead the way and we
will rescue your father at all hazards."
"Wo must be cautious," said the
brave, beautiful girl. "All depends on
caution. I happen to know where the
officers are watching to-niglit. It is
not far. We will approach the cave
where poor father has been held so
long a prisoner. We will go by a back
path with which I am well acquainted.
Wo will attempt the rescue, and God
grant we may be successful. Then we
will go to the officers and ask protec
tion, for we are as nothing compared
with the outlaws in numbers and
strength."
"Why not get the officers' help first V"
inquired Willard.
"Because that, would take time,
which must not bo wasted. The rob
bers will not return for an hour at
least. Bv that time wo can have
father rescued and be on our way fa|
join the officers."
It was decided to follow Olive's plan.
So, following lier down the gorge, they
entered a rough, steep path ascending
the mountain. The girl had thrown a
dark cloak about her, concealing hei
ghostly attire.
Under cover of the night and the
solemn, brooding cedars, they drew
near the cave. Dimly, as tliey peered
from behind a large rock, they could
make out a solitary man sitting on a
ffat stone by the mouth. Creeping
softly, slyly toward him, Olive Glis
son Hung her cloak over the head of
the unsuspecting guard. He attempt
ed to cry out, but her able assistants
were too quick for him and had him
gagged and bound before he had ut
tered a syllable. Then Abner Glis
some, pale and thin from long confine
ment, was released. lie was surprised
and delighted beyond measure to learn
that one of his rescuers was tho son of
the sister from whom ho had long suf
fered estrangement.
They found tho officers easily and
sent them on (lie robbers' trail. The
chief was captured, with some of his
most notorious allies, and the moun
tain gang was broken up.
Our friends reached New York safely,
and then a happy reunion took place.
There followed a double wedding at
Christmas time, when "peace on earth"
found a true echo in each heart.
Things a Woman Can Do Best.
Oli, yes, undoubtedly there are
things that a woman can do bette
than a man.
They may be small matters, but they
exist, and a woman can readily beat a
man doing them, and she should kav
tho credit of it.
In the first place, she can wear a
petticoat, and not take it up on lioi
heels when she walks, and we doubt
if the wisest man living can accom
plish this little feat even after a good
many times trying.
She can look sweet as sugar when
she feels cross enough to behead some
body.
She can be such excellent friends
with a rival, and help do up her back
liair, when she hates her so that slie
would be glad if she caught the small
pox and got her face carved into the
semblance of a Chinese cabinet.
•She can scold better than any man
living. She can think of more aggra
vating things to say in one hour, than
a man, no matter how many colleges
lie has graduated from, and iiow mail}'
dictionaries lie lias digested, can think
of in six months.
She can cry, when she cannot gain
her point any other way, and it is
pretty tough work for the average man
to cry, and not make a mess of it.
She can spank a baby better than a
man. She feels that it is lier right to
clo it, and a man always goes about as
if he was ashamed of it, and as if he
didn't exactly know where to begin, or
where to leave off.
She can drive hens out of the garden
in half the time it will take a man to
do it. It is no use to swear at hens.
They do not understand profanity, but
the swish of a skirt, and the flourish of
a sun-bonnet, are arguments they can
not withstand.
A woman can find something to talk
about when a man would be dead broke
for a topic.
She can manage to keep you waiting
while she gets ready to go somewhere
longer than five men could, unless they
were youths in tho clutches of a first
love, and had to struggle with refract
ory neck-ties,
A woman can get more bundles to
gether in half a day's shopping than a
man can carry, and she can buy goods I
ten per cent, cheaper than he can, be
cause, in tho first place, sho always
asks everybody what tliey paid for
everything, and is thoroughly posted
on prices; and, in the second place, sho
has the infinite patience to stand and
talk to tho clerks, and wheedle, and i
coax, and bargain, until, in the sheer I
desperation of uttor soul-weariness, !
tliey take off two cents a yard, and j
think themselves lucky to escape so !
well.
TWO GREAT MISTAKES.
THE SAD MISFORTUNE THAT OVER
TOOK AN OLD SALT.
Shipping; for a Voyage Aiound a California
Farm He Trie<l to Educate the Live-
Stock- Returning to Hi* Native Element,
HIM Memory One Morning I'iayed Him a
Very Shabby Trick.
/Cj,AY, Cap'n, does the
attHfifctide make the knots
we read about in the
ocettn or are they tied
r^JpiMgi jgMpf by the seamen theni
selves?" inquired the
lubber when the sail-
JraW ors had assembled in
put in such an artless
YSMritv % % manner as to preclude
iT eVeU possi.
I •-7 know whether to get
I jil' mad or not. He grew
" pf i 51! 5i redder when tho sail-
I >/ ffll B| ors looked at him and
TOM snickered a little bit,
—n generally makes these
P&p old tars mad to have
a legitimate seafaring
nuestion fired at them. They seem to
think that everybody ought to know by
intuition the odds and ends acquired in a
lifetime on the vasty deep, and that ask
ing questions is an idle pastime which
should be frowned upon. For this rea
son, perhaps, the Cap'n remained Bilent,
and the lubber, seeing that he had made
a bad break, considerately refrained from
repeating his question. After thought
fully contemplating his feet for several
minutes the Cap'n suddenly observed:
"These hero remarks about old people
makes me think of a shipmate 1 once
had named AVilliam Henry McTumble."
"Was McTumble really his name?" the
tandsman asked.
"No; his right name was McFall, but he
thought that was too harsh and abrupt.
So he changed it to McTumble, which he
said was more musical and 1088 liable to
inr on the sensitive ears of his shipmates.
He had a whole bagful of books, some of
'em two inches thick, but he could read
them just the rame. He said it was"
against tho law for a man to change his
hamo without permission, but still he
couldn't be arrested for it if the change
kneant the same as the original, oven if it
was put in a milder form. And I reckon
ne ought to know, for ho read enough
books.
"William Henry was a Scotchman, who
bad sailed the salt seas for thirty years
before I mot him, ton years ago, in the
guard-ship at tho Mare Island (Cal.)
havy-ynrd. He was then a crabbed, dried,
tip old mariner of 70, and I reckon he's
sailing yet. About three months before
4 mot him ho had quit the sea forever,
hud gone into the hills of California tc
Work on a farm. But he told me after-
Ward that ho hadn't the staff in him thai
farmers were made of. Ho was one daj
trying to raise a calf by band, ho said,
hud, in order to teach' the animal to
drink, AVilliam Henry nailed a piece ol
leather in the bottom of the bucket and
poured some milk in on it. The strap
Was about two inches long, and William's
object was to get the calf to suck the
leather and drink tho milk at the same
time. So William held tho pail in his
left hand and let the calf suck a mouth
ful of the fingers on his right, whilo he
gradually steered its nose into the pail.
The calf found the strap, but on the first
pull the hungry little creature sucked
about a gallon of milk up into its head
through its hawse-pipes or nose-holes.
I Then it backed out of tho pail and
tenor ted, blowing the milk into William
Henry McTumble's eyes, hair, and whis
kers. Ho was so mad he batted the calf's
brains out with the pail. Ho said he
didn't like the business, anl wouldn't
tehip on another farm again as long as he
lived. The farmer had to let William
go, but he held onto his three months'
wages to offset tho cnlf. So William
Henry returned to his home on the roll
ing deep.
" When ho came aboard tho guards he
was rigged up in a suit of brown Califor
nia overalls, heavy, hobnailed shoes, a
fur cap, and a little woolen muffler twisted
around his neck. I reckon he had worn
that muffler day and night, win'er aud
summer, since ho first left Scotland as a
boy. He never took it off during the
three years wo sailed together, and when
1 first met William Henry Lis muffler was
full of curdled milk that the calf had
snorted into it."
"Did William Henry know he was run
ning a milk route?" askod the lubber.
"I 'spose he did, yet ho never said any
thing about it. But you never saw a
man so tickled over getting safely off of
dry land as William Henry was. He got
into a suit of sailor togs as soon as ho
could, keeping nothing but his muffler
and hobnailed shoes, and went strolling
about tho deck. He said it did his feet
good to tread tho oakum seams, and that
it would bo a chilly day when anybody
caught him ashore again.
"When he wasn't reading out of his
books he carried a full spread of canvas
on his jaw rigging and talked a blue
streak. He was tho talkiest A. B. I ever
know and was always going on with what
he knew about tho marine service. He
knew morn ahnnt it thau did tho printed
rules aud regulations for tho government
of tho United States navy and wasn't
afraid to say so. Then, his voice was one
of those kind th t incite people to riot,
a whee/.y, chokcd-up, rasping, gasping
voice thut makes folks tired to listen lo it
And his endless flow of words rippled out
of him like the low, monotonous gurgle
of a busted steam pipe underwater. You'll
always liud that a man with one of
these voices wants to do all tho talking
kim*lf."
"That's what we do; i n' sometimes sea
men withsmooth-sailin' voices," remarked
Watkins, gazing up into tho sky with a
far-away look in his eyes.
The Cap'n looked hard at Watkins, but
his suspicions, if ho had any, wore dis
pelled by tho saintly expression on that
individual's face. So he went on with his
story.
"of course, this everlasting talk and
reading got William lienry a reputation
TEACHING THE CALF TO DRINK.
among the men for being smart, and
sorno of the sailors thought he was a
great deal smarter than ho was. They
thought that if a man talked he must ho
smart, no matter what ho said, and Will
iam Henry's inmost thoughts bowled
along iu the same channel. It was generally
conceded that Bill know something about
everything, but one day he lost his grip
nnd droppod astern. And it aU came
about through his inability to swear and
do quick work with his hammock lashing
at tho same t me.
"Liko lots of old people, William
lienry had to get up early in the morn
ing, an hour or so ahead of other folks.
Tne reguiar hour lor taming out was b
o'clock in the morning, but this old man
felt that it was a duty he owed to the
Government to roll ont at 4 o'clock and
lash up his hammock. If he had been
decent about it nobody would have
kicked, but ho wasn't. He slept along
side of a mess-table, and when he got up
he would put on his hobnailed shoes (,he
slept with nis muffler on) and stand on a
bench whilo be lashed his hammock. He
had thirty feet of rope with which to
make seven hitches around his bed.
Making a loop and passing the end of the
rope through, William Henry would haul
the slack across the stiff edge of the can
vas hammock with a series of zip, zip,
zips which sounded like a boy running at
full speed and holding a stick against a
picket fence. Then when he got ready
to tighten up the turn he would step
back and throw his weight on tho rope,
letting a war-whoop at the same time.
These old sailors can't touch a rope
THE PUNISHMENT OF WILIJIAM HENRI
M'TUMBLE.
without howling like a maniac. Some
times he stepped too near the edge of the
bench; then the other end would fly up
and William Henry would spring for the
middle and fetch the bench down on
deck with a crash fit to wake the dead.
And that's the way the old codger would
put in his time every morning with the
rest of us trying to sleop.
"When a sailor goes to bed ho just puts
his clothes in tho hammock under the
mattress. Then when reveille sounds in
the morning he has just six minutes to
jump into his clothes aud lash his ham
mock into a neat roll liko a six-foot saw
log and stow it away. If late with the
operation the sailor is punished for dere
liction of duty. One morning William
Henry had just got his bed fixed to suit
him when tho bugle sounded and William
H. made the disgusting discovery that he
had forgotten to take his clothes out of
the hammock. Ho had nothing on but
liis muffler, a short undershirt aud tho
lobnailed shoes. Instead of gotting ac
tion on the hammock Bill sat down on
the mess-table, with hi 3 feet on the bench,
and commenced to swear. Good Lord,
how that old man did cuss! It was awful.
The most sublimely terrific flow of unstud
ied, sulphur-t linted blasphemy and
torchlight profanity I ever heard rolled
out of William Henry McTumble. He
cursed himself and eveiy living and inan
imate object in five tongues, and tho damp
air blowing in off the bay precipitated
the phosphorus in his languages till it
hutig in festoons, blue aud dripping, from
the beams overhead.
"Bill was still looking at his hammock
and using those fearful languages when
an officer grabbed him and his bed and
stood Bill up on the quarter-deck with the
hammock over his shoulders. They made
him stand there four hours in his shirt
tail with the hammock on his shoulders,
and it nearly broke the old man's heart.
Ho hadn't much meat on his legs and the
calves wero slewed around to the sides,
which made tho sailor's laugh. And the
very men who thought Bill was so smart
came 'round and guyed him and threw
sticky cuds of tobacco big as walnuts at
his bare logs.
"McTumble was a changed man after
that, and seldom spoke unless ho had to."
JEFFERSON'S 11ALF-BROTHER.
What the Actor Says About Charles
Burke. His Near Relation.
It. was a rare treat to sen Burton and
Burke in the same play; they acted into
each other's hands with the most per
fect skill; there was no striving to
outdo each other, writes Joseph Jeffer
son, in his autobiography in the De
cember number of the Century Maga
zine. If the scene required that for a
time one should be prominent, the
other would become the background of
tho picture, and so strengthen the
general effect ; by this method thgy
produced a perfectly harmonious work.
For instance, Burke would remain in
repose, attentively listening while Bur
ton was delivering some humorous
speech.
This would naturally act as a spell
upon tho audienco, who became by
this treatment absorbed in what Bur
ton was saying, and having got the full
force of tho effect they would burst
forth in laughter or applause; then,
py one accord, tnoy became suent,
listening to Burke's reply, which Bur
ton was now strengthening by tho
same repose and attention. I have
never seen this element in acting car
ried so far, or accomplished with such
admirable results, not even upon the
French stage, and I am convinced that.'
the importance of it in reaching the
best dramatic effects cannot be too
highly estimated.
It was this characteristic feature of.
the acting of these two great artiste
that always set the audienco wonder J
ing which was tho better. The truth
is. thero was no "better" about the/
matter. They were not. horses running
a race, but artists painting a picture;
it was not in their minds which should
win, but how they could, by their
joint efforts, produce a perfect work.
I profited very much by these early
lessons.
Dying at tha age of 32, it is wonder
ful that Charles Burke left such an
enduring reputation as an actor. Idp
not mean that his fame lives with tlid
general public, but his professional!
brethren accorded to him the rarest)
histrionic genius. I have sometimes
heard comparisons made between Bur
ton and Burke, but they were so wide
ly different in their natures and theii;
artistic methods that no reasonablo
parallel could be drawn. Burton col
ored highly, and laid on the effects
with a liberal brush, while Burke wat
subtle, incisive, and refined. Burton's
features were strong and heavy, and
his figure was portly and ungainly.
Burke wa i lithe and graceful. His
face was plain, but wonderfully expres
sive. 'I ho versatility of this rare actor
was remarkable, his pathos being quite
as striking a feature as his comedy.
Ho had an eye and faco that told their
meaning before he spoke, a voice that
seemed to come from the heart itself,
penetrating, but melodious. He sang
with great taste, and was a perfect
musician. His dramatic effects sprung
more from intuition than from study j
and, as was said of Barton Booth, "the
blind might, have seen him in his voice;
and the deaf have heard him in his
visage."
Although onlv a half-brother, ho
"ecmed liko a father to me. and thcro
was a ueep anil strange atlection be
tween us. As I look back I recall
many social and professional sacrifices
that he made for me, and my love for
him was so great that if wo were ab
sent from each other for any length of
time my heart would beat with delight
at his approach. It is scarcely fair to
intrude upon the reador one's domestio
affections, but I am irresistibly im
pelled to write these words. And so
thev must stand.
HARVEY KENNEDY, OF NEW YORK.
His Weakness Wus a Fontlnasa lor Young
Lailles -His Novel Method for Getting
Their Society.
fOUBTLESS yon
nave read a line 01
two announcing the
death of Harvey
Kennedy,and telling
you that ho wan a
very rich old Wall
Btreet broker. But
nothing ha-i been
piintod as to the
Friday night 6ight
which his demise
will take away from
the Metropolitan
Opera House. Mr.
Kennedy was a wid
ower. lie showed no
inclination to remar
ry, yet he was very
fond of young ladies,
and his method of
getting their society without paying partic
ular attention to any siugle one was ingen
ious and genial. He had a cairi.'ge built
to hold eight persons. It was a cross be
tween a fine private coupe and a big pub
lic stage. Two big prauciug horses drew
it, and a liveried coachman sat high on
the front Beat. The other portion of Mr.
Kennedy's outfit was a box for one night
a week at the opera. He hired it from
Cyrus W. Field at $175 a night, and was
a sub-tenant at that price all through last
winter and during the present season un
til his suddon death. For each Friday
night he invited six young ladies to go
with him to tho opera. His guests were
chosen from among all his acquaintances,
and not often was the same girl enter
tained twice. For each party he also
secured a matron as a chaperone, and he
himself made the eighth person in the
party. To every lady he sent a hugo bou
quet of the costliest roses, tied with a
very long and wide satin ribbon ex
actly matching her dress, or at
least harmonizing with it in col
or. To be more exact about this
he usually obtained a scrap of the chief
material in each instance, and these sam
ples were delivered to the florist, who ob
j tained ribbons for tho eight bouquets to
j suit. Every Friday night 'the Kennedy
j baroucho would start out from his own
I quarters-he had lately lodged in the
! Union League Club—with the host alone
. within it. His first call would be at the
i house of the chaperone, and thence thoy
| would go tho round of six honored domi
ciles, finally bring up at tho Metropolitan
with tho always envied load. Mr. Ken
nedy was a handsome old man, large of
stature, with a ruddy, beaming face, and
snow-white hair. It was an odd spectacle
to see him in his box surrounded by a bevy
of vivacious girls, handsomely costumed
and profusely decked with the roses of
his providing. Alter the opera was over,
j he always took the party to one or another
|of the most fashionable restaurants,
! where he treated them to a magnificent
1 supper. The cost of this weekly enter
tainment could not have been less than
five hundred dollars. Mr. Kennedy died of
heart disease. Now, how many of my
readers will fail to remark that of course
no old widower's heart could stand such
a complex strain as that?
When a man's afraid,
A beautiful maid
Is a cheering sight to see.
That is what you heard tho maiden sing
in "The Mikado." She was telling about
a capital punishment which she hud wit
nessed, and her declaration that the
doomed man, just beforo losing his head,
gazed upon her pretty face for courage,
was always taken as a Gilbert phantasy.
But tho idea is actually put into practical
use in the largest of New York establish
ments where teeth aro extracted under
laughing gas. I have been there two or
three times, and have watched this fea
ture of tho business with amused inter
j est. Now, as you already know, laugh
ing-gas random the patient oblivious but
not insensible. Ho reels all that is done
to him, find often makes a lot of fuss
about it. but upon awakening ho can re
call nothing that had happened. It is
when the "man's afraid" that tbo "beau
tiful maid" is placed beforo him as "a
choering sight to see." In other words,
while the strong-armed dentist stands
at 0110 side of the victim's
chair, with the gas bag roady for him
: to breathe out of, a girl with an amiably
I pretty face takes a position closo to tho
opposite arm. She gazes sympathetically
yet smilingly into his face. She isn't
coquettish about it. It may be described
as a sort of cousinly smile—that is,
somowliere midway between a sisterly
grin and an ogle with no tie of consan
guinity in it. As the man breathes in
the gas, and loses his ROUSOB, tho last
fading vision is that of the girl's encour
aging face. The practical value of this
devico HOB in tho fact—and I have this
on tho authority of tho boss of the place
—that a goodly proportion of the patients
would become obstreperous and violent
while under the influence of tho gis but
for tho effect of tho girl's presence.
That may seem like uonsenso, but in
practico it proves to be good sense.
When tho man awakes ho finds that his
guardian angei is still there, and departs
feeling, I suppose, that she has taken a
deep and poignant intorost in his particu
lar case.— New York letter to Chicago
Lcduer.
Don't Believe it:
"Americans are good customers
here," said the saleman. "Those big
heavy bracelets you soe there aro
bought chiefly by publicans' wives. Wo
sell plenty of wedding lings at 1 shil
ling 3 pence each."
"But marriages don't occur often;
surely people can afford a few shillings
once in a lifetimo for a real gold ring ?"
"Ah, you don't understand. These
wedding' rings aro bought by poor
people and slipped on when the real
thing is at tho pawnbroker's. It is not
before the marriage, hut after, when
tho rainy day comes, that thoso rings
are bought. We sell grosses of them."
"Who are your best customersV"
"Well, there aro rich women who
have their own jewel sets imitated,
Americans, the 'profession,' and mash
ers and people who have come down in
the world. When these latter go away
for their holidays to see their friends
they don't liko to show their poverty.
For a few shillings they can get such a
stock of jewelry that in their own towns
and villages they are kings and
queens."— Pall Mali Budget.
Why Blind Persons Seldom Smoke.
A peculiarity about the blind is that
there is seldom one of them who
smokes. Soldiers and sailors accus
tomed to smoking, and who lxavo lost
their sight in action, continue to smoke
for a short while, but soon giro up tho
habit. Thoy say that it gives them no
pleasure when they can not see tho
smoke, and somo huvo said that they
can not taste the smoke unless thoy
see it. This almost demonstrates tho
theory that if you blindfold a man in
a room full of smoke and put a lighted
and an unlighted cigar in his mouth
alternately he will not be able to toll
the difference. — St. Louis Republic.
WISE AND UNWISE.
FIGURED goods—heiresses.
INVARIABLY seasonable salt, mus
tard, pepper, vinegar.
" WHY is the way of the transgressor
so hard ?" '"S'pose because it's traveled
so much."
WHEN a Chicago girl gets therewith j
both feet, how impressive and emphatic
is the arrival.
THE raoe iH not always to the swift.
A one-legged fat man can catch cold as
quick as a sprinter.
BlNES —Barlow says betting is not
against his principles? Winks —Of
course not; lie hasn't any.
"You are always talking about a
donkey. You don't mean me?" "What
ails you ? There are many donkeys be
sides you."
seems to be greatly exercised
over a triple aliauce, but out in Utah
they are as thick as the specks on a
turkey's egg.
THE man who boasted that he was
"regular as the sun" forgot that that
luminary rises only twice in the year at
the same time.
"You look so much like your broth
er," said Dennis to Phelim, "that I
could tell yez was brothers if I'd niver
seen aitlier av yez."
"WHAT I admire about Josephine is
her self-possession." "Yes, I fear she
can't help that. I don't know anybody
else who would have her."
"How is your furnace?" "First rate.
We manage to get it warm every day,
but it is a little selfish about letting
any of the heat get away from it."
FIRST Newsboy—There goes a gent.
Chase him. Second Newsboy—No use.
Just saw him come out of a barber
shop. He's heard all the news there
is.
ABDICATING the throne: Mrs. Tipton
Flatte—Why do you cry, cook? Bridget
(about to be married) —It's niesilf that'll
soon be no better off than the rest of
yez.
TEACHER (to eight-year-old scholar)
—What is the population of this city?
Scholar—s66,oo4. "The book says
506,663." "But I was born since last
census."
YOUNG wife—A horrid rat ate one of
those lovely canaries my husband got
me, and that's why I got a cat. Matron
—Well? Young wife—And then the
cat ate tho other.
MOTHER —Now, girls, a3 you've fin
ished your daily quarrel, suppose you
go anil eat some dinner. Arabella (sar
castically)—Oh, I suppose you want
us to swallow our feud.
ONE of our contemporaries, in noting
the successful career of a venerable
man who has just died in Maine, makes
the startling statement that "he was
born without a dollar in his pocket."
EASILY explained: Upson Downes
—What bright glances Miss Gibbons
Bhoots at young Featherly to-inght.
Hound About—They are quite notice
able, but not surprising considering
the amount of powder she has on her
face.
MR. BROWN (awakening from a two
weeks' spree)— Where am I? Mrs.
Brown (wishing to make tho awakening
as horrible as possible)—Y'ou aro in
in hades. Brown—And you here,
too! Oh, my punishment is greater
than I can bear!
MRS. GREENEYES— It is useless for
you to attempt to deceive me. Imagine
my feelings when I find a blonde hair
on your coat when you know my hair is
black. Mr. Greeneyes—Well, my dear,
if you don't like it, why don't you
bleach your hair?
"Have you a quarter you can give me,
sir?" asked a tattered-looking individu
al of a citizen. "My wife and children
have hud nothing to eat for two days."
"Oh, that won't do," replied the
gentleman; "I gave you 50 cents yes
terday. What did you do with that ?"
"I had to buy meat for the dog."
How They Dance iptoe.
There is a popular impression that
ballet dancers have the soles of their
shoes made stiff, so as to enable them
to ci anco about on their toes.
"That is nonsense," and Miss Qualitz
(a premiere danseuse) exhibited a pair
of her dancing-shoes to illustrate.
"You can't stand up this way with
your ordinary shoes on," and tho pre
miere gracefully mounted her toes and
viewed tho reporter's three dollar foot
wear with extreme disgust.
"A stiff solo in a shoe would not
help, but absolutely prevent, dancing.
And, besides, the strain is not on tha
toe, but it comes on the rear of the an
kle. I believe that's what you Ameri
can.- call it. But by keeping the body
in the proper position much of tliq
strain is relieved, and the dancer ap
pears much more graceful to those who
understand what correct ballet dancing
is". — Wash inqton l'o. l.
Stoves for Monkeys.
Keeper Havens of the Grcss Zoo
crawled on to tho Fair street dummy
with two big gray two-gallon jugs in
his hands yesterday.
"Going to start a blind tiger?" ho
was asked.
"No, these are monkey stoves."
"Monkey what?"
"Stoves, man, stoves. Don't yon
catch on ? Everybody has been won
dering how I would keep tho monkeys
from freezing during the winter. These
aro my stoves. I'll fill these two jugs
full of hot water, wrap some hay
around tliom, and set Ihoui in the mon
key cage."
"Will the monkeys take to them?"
"Trust a monk for that. They'll sit
around those jugs and hug them worse
than a tramp around a freight caboose
stove. Next morning when I go in
there they will ha an warm and snug
as you ever saw ."— Atlanta Constitu
tion.
Wouldn't lime to Build the Fire.
Physician (diagnosing tlio case)—
Y'ou say you feel an inordinate desire
to lie in bed mornings and to over
sleep ? Sir, you are a very sick man.
Your liver is badly affected, and yon
must
Patient —Say, I'll give you SSO if
you'll tell my wife that! She declares
it's nothing but laziness 1
IN order thoroughly to realize our)
selves, we must bo conscious of our ab
sorption, or at least of our inolusion, in
a greater and grander system than that
of c-windividual surroundings;in order
to find our lives, we must first discover
the art of losing them.
THAT which is easy to do, though it
may bo worth doing, is not so impor
tant as that which i 3 hard and "dis
agreeable, and which, therefore, finds
fewer workers.