AFTER THE BALL.
BY EMJLIE CLARK.
ftfiig back the curtain and let In the light,
Strains of sweet music are floating to-night
On the breath of balm-breathing air ;
The light-hearted dancers in circles go by,
With ablush on the cheek and a Halle in the
For bravery and beauty are there
Fljng back the curtain, and onco again gaze
On the old scenes—the wearisome days—
The sunshine, tho shadow and rain.
Are there apples of Kodoin whose ashes still
cling,
Crushed roses whoso thorns still festering sting,
That gossip and sport with the brain?
Fling back the curtain—re-enact the old play,
The hopes and the fears; have you nothing to
say?
No sentence or act to recall?—
Nothing that brings you a pang of regret—
Nothing you would not be glad to forget,
And never know after the ball? .
The haunts we so loved, are thoy murmuring
still
In their dark robes of green—the clear singing
rill
At the foot of the spicy birch tree?
Do the choir in the wildwood singgayly as when
We wandered together in that love-haunted glen
And praised their rare minstrelsy?
Could my steps but keep pace with tho wings of
my mind,
I would'leave this fair land aud its treasures
behind
And roam over meadow and wold;
The hill-side and valley again I'd retrace.
Your true hand to lead, I would visit each place
We loved once so fondly of old.
Fling back the curtain and let in the light.
This is a scene that is sacred to-night,
And yearly its bliss 1 recall;
And while youth is treading its light mazes
through
I'll linger a moment, beloved, with you,
In memory of "After the Ball"
And now when life's giddy waltzes are done,
When the lights are all out and the dancers aro
Wit?) the pleasures that come at our call,
Will you sit in your cozy arm chair and repeat |
The low whispered words so wonderous sweet,
The parting just after tho ball?
ANITA, lowa,
A CHEROKEE POET.
Tempestuous Life of a Civilized and
Educated Red Man.
H E subject oi
f~T this sketch was
born in the Cher
|k] s okee country, on
WJSfe the Oos-te-nah
ly River, at what
<5 .is now the flour
.—vAfe,r"l inhing city o i
Rome. Ga., on
March 19, 1827.
His father, Gen.
John Ridge, a
full-blood Indian, was the popular chief
of the powerful Cherokee tribe. His
mother, a highly educated lady, was
the daughter of Judge Northrup, of
Connecticut. The family moved with
the tribe to the present Cherokee res
ervation in the Indian Territory in
J837. Dissension soon arose among
the tribe, because of their enforced re
tnoval from the home of their fathers,
which were cunningly fomented by
John Ross, a rival chieftain, who was
jealous of the popularity and power of
Chief Ridge, which finally culminated
on June 30, 1839, iu the cold-hlooded
murder of General Ridge aud his aged
father, in the presence of the family,
by the adherents of Ross, who seized
the supreme power, nnd remained chief
until about the close of the late civil
war between the States, when he died.
"Yellow-Bird," then a boy of 12 years
of age, an eyewitness to this atrocious
piurder, in a letter thus describes tho
Incident:
"The removal of the Indians West had
fomented discontents of the darkest and
deadliest nature. The ignorant Indi
ans, unable to vent their rage upon the
whites, turned their wrath towards
their own chiefs, and chose to hold
them responsible for what had happen
ed. John Boss made use of these
prejudices to establish his own
power. He held a sccrot coun
sel and plotted the death of my
father and grandfather, Iva-nun-ta
kla-ge and Boudinot and others who
were friendly to those men. These
fcloody deeds were perpetrated un
der circumstances of peculiar aggrava
tion.
"On the morning of June 22, 1839,
about daybreak, our family was aroused
from sleep by a violent noise; the doors
H ere broken down and the house was
filled with armed men. I saw my
father in the hands of assassins. He
endeavored to speak to them, but they
Shouted and drowned his voice, for
they were ordered not to listen to him
for a moment, for fear they might be
persuaded not to kill him. They
dragged him into the yard and pre
pared to murder him. Two strong
Men held him by the arms, while oth
ers stabbed him deliberately with long
dirk knives twenty-nine times. My
mother rushed to the door, but
they pushed her back into
fhe house with their guns,
and prevented her egress until
the act was finished. My father foil
|o the earth, but did not expire for a
few minutes. My mother ran out to
him. He raised himself on his elbow
pod tried to speak, but the blood llow
jd into his mouth and prevented him.
a few brief moments he died, with- |
frut speaking the last word which he
iwished to sav. Then succeeded a scene
pf agony, the sight of which makes one
fegret that the human race had ever
been created. It lias darkened my life
jprith an eternal shadow. In a room
prepared for the purpose lay pale in
death the man whose voice had been
listened to with awe and admiration in
the councils of his nation, and whose i
fame as an orator, a statesman and a !
fcoldier had passed to the remotest of
the United States, the blood oozing
through his winding-sheet and falling,
drop by drop, to the tloor. By his side
oat my stricken mother, with her hands
clasped, and in speechless agony—she
*vho had given him her heart in her
youth and beauty, and, leaving her
parents, had followed the husband
of her choice from her home of
frealtli and culture to a wild and dis
tant land; and bending over him was
\I\H own afflicted mother, with her long
white hair flowing loose over her
shoulders and bosom, crying to the
Great Spirit to sustain her in that
oreadful hour; and in addition to all
these—the wife, the mother, and the
little children, who scarcely knew
Jheir loss— were the dark faces of those
who had been privy to the assassina
tion, who had come to smile over the
terrible scene."
John liollin llidge, or Chees-quat
alaw-ne, his Indian name (signifying
* Yellow Bird";, was educated at Fay
etteviile, Ark., and graduated with
distinguished honors at Groat Bar
rington, Mass. He was first cousin to
the gallant Colonel E. C. Boudinot, so
well known to the people of Texas as
the leader of a regiment of Indians in
the Confederate army, and who has
been for years the representative of
his people at the national capital.
At the breaking out of the Califor
nia gold fever, in 1849, Yellow Bird
emigrated to that country, and en
gaged in placer mining in Shasta
County, where this writer, then a,small
boy, learned to love ancr lionor him for
hia manly virtues, his kindly svm
patliy, and brilliant intellect. His idle
moments were devoted to the muses,
and his numerous poems (I now have
them in book form), published in the
provincial papers of that day, were
extensively reproduced in the literary
journals of the country, and met with
distinguished popular favor. Gifted
with a commanding physique, irresist
ible personal magnetism, and a classi
cal education, combined with an ex
ceptional wealth of imagery and flu
ency of language, ho became one of
the most popular writers of the day.
He was a vigorous and incisive
political writer, and edited with
marked ability one of the leading daily
journals of the State; but his devotion
to the arts and sciences and the higher
branches of literature disinclined him
to engage permanently in the partisan
warfare which prevailed in California
in the early years following its admis
sion into the Federal Union. Some oi
his fugitive pieces possessed such re
markable literary merit as to attract
the attention of the profoundest think
ers and ablest writers of the age.
A few years since, while our poet
was visiting the national capital, whera
his genius was recognized and greatly
admired, Miss Vinnie Beam (now Mrs.
Hoxie), a lady known to fame for her
genius as a sculptress, and whose
cunning hand created from cold mar
ble some of the most beautiful statu
ary which now adorns the most stately
capitol of the world, requested Yellow
Bird to write her a little Indian love
song. Without preparation or thought,
on the impulse of the mo
ment, he wrote this little gam,
which has been set to music, ana be
come one ol the most popular melo
dies at the capital:
J LOVE THEE.
I love thoe as the soaring bird
The bright, blue morning
When he sings;
In circling, circling melodies,
With heaven's sweet sunlight
On his vings.
I love thee as the billows lore
In tropic lands the
Pearly shore;
They come and go. they come ani ga,
With answering kisses'
Evermore.
I love thee as the mariner,
Far driven o'er the
Stormy sea,
The bright and silver rising star,
Which tells him where his
Home may be.
I love thee, ever, ever shall,
Thine eyes, their bright and
Glorious light
Dwell in my soul fore verm ore,
Illumining its
Deeps of night.
Geobge F. Alford.
Shipped for One Trip.
One day in early spring of the yeai
1888, the revenue cutter Andrew
Johnson steamed into the harbor of
Frankfort, a little town in the northern
part of Michigan, nnd mado fast to tha
dock. The vessel was to he painted,
and for several days "all hands" were
busily employed. After supper, on the
second day, the quartermaster at the
gangway espied a small led squirrel
playing on the wharf.
His curiosity being aroused he
watched the little fellow and noticed
that lie was gradually nearing the gang
plank. Boon ho stopped at the other
end, and sitting on his haunches, looked
inquiringly at the big sailor, who laugh
ingly accosted him with:
" Would you like to come on board ?
As if he had understood the polite
invitation, the would-be traveler al
most immediately scampered up the
plank, jumped over the bulwarks and
ran down the gangway, to the great
amusement of the quartermaster, as
well as of one or two others who wit-
I nesßed the incident.
A search was made for the young
stowaway, hut ho had effectually hid
den himself, and was not seen again
until the vessel was far out on the lake,
on the second day following. Then he
was observed apparently searching for
food.
Bread and corn-meal were scattered
about for him, and quickly disappeared
in away to indicate a very good appe
tite. Fnding that he was not molested,
he became quito tame, and was a great
pet with all on board.
When wo made the first port
after leaving Frankfort, it was sup
posed that he would loavo us, and nec
essarily be logged as a "deserter," but
such was not the case. He evidently
had no intention of leaving, for al
though we stopped at mnny places
during the next three weekß and he
went on shore regularly, he nevor
failed to return on time, and was with
us when the vessel again ran into
Frankfort harbor.
Much interest was now manifested,
both by officers and men, to see what
the little passenger would do. Ho did
not keep us waiting long. When the
ship was made fast to the dock and the
boatswain had "piped down," our young
friend came up, took a look at the wharf
to assure himself that it was indeed hia
old home, nnd quickly, without saying
good-by, ran down the gang-plank, and
was soon out of sight.
We never saw him again, but could
he have been followed, no doubt an
interesting scene would have been wit
nessed when he rejoined his family.
What a wonderful story ho had to tell!
and what a hero he must be hereafter in
the eyes of squirrels who never took a
free ride on a Government ship!—
Youth's Companion.
■inner Knew r.ismerc.
A new story comes to the front about
ex-Senator Tabor of Colorado, savs the
Washington Post. During the Sena
torial contest which resulted in the
election of Ed Wolcott, Tabor was vio
lently opposed to the former's election.
A gentleman from the East called on
Tabor and found the ex-Senator going
over a list of the members of the Legis
lature. The Eastern gentleman had
some business with Tabor, and when
through with it he thought he would en
gage in a general conversation, and
having just read the mueh-talkod-of
latest publication, he said to Tabor:
"Senator, what do you think of 'Bobcrt
Elsmere ?'"
"Elsmcre?" said Tabor; "oh, Wolcott
bought and paid for that d d scoun
drel three months ago. No use trying
to do anything with him."
Still Valuable.
Eastern Youth (out West) —"I have
called to get you to help me locate lot
992 in this village -1 mean city. My
late uncle left it to me and I have
come West to see about it. Pretty
valuable by this time, I Bupposc."
Heal Estate Agent (looking over
map) —"Hum! It was valuable when
your uncle bought it, but the grado of
the streets has been changed and it is
now 500 feet below the curb, and full
of water."
"Eh? Water? Good gracious! It
can't be of any use at all."
"Well, I dunno. If you like frogs'
legs you might get a meal off it once
in a while."— New York Weekly.
THE old toper always has a gin phiz.
HISTORY OF TIIE WATCH.
IT DATES BACK A FEW HUNDRED
YEARS.
The First Clocks Were Cumbrous Tilings,
ami for a Long Time Were Only I'Hftil iu
Convents ami Monasteries—Some Queer
Old Watches.
watch, and if men have lived (as Kome
scientists claim) for 100, COO years, then
how singular the fact that for 99,G00
years of that time no one over had a watch.
Of course tho watch grew out of the
preoedent use of the clock, and it was
about 000 years between the first clock
and the first watch. That is as closely as
one can estimate dates when the precise
year of either invention is unknown.
The invention of the clock is generally
ascribed to the monk Gerbort, who was
afterward raised to the tiara, under the
name of Popo Sylvester 11. The first
clocks wore cumbrous things, calculated
only to be bung to the wall, and worked
with cords and weights. For a long time
they were only used in convents and
monasteries, where they helped to make
miserable the lives of the inmates. Oth
ers say that the invention of the clock
was due to the Saracens. However, it
was invented aud for a long time was
made iu such a laige and cumbrous form
that no one thought of reducing it to
pocket size. Some time in tho fourteenth
century tho escapement was introduced
in what is known as Do Wyck's clock*
This allowed of reduction in size, but it
Booms to have taken 100 years more for
the idea to have gotten into men's minds
that tho clock might be made small
enough to carry in the pocket, or to hang
ks an ornament upon the person.
The city of Nuremburg claims to have
made the first watch in 1477, and Peter
Holl, of that city, made watches of steel
as early ns 1490. It is certain that tho
first watches wore called Nuremburg eggs
—a fact that identifies both the place of
making and the shape of tho watch.
The works were inclosed in circular
metal cases, and wore hung from tho
girdle. They generally suggested the idea
of tho egg.
Tho first English watches were made
upon a different principle. Thoy had
weights and were used as a pocket-clock.
The earliest mention made of one under
its present name is of a watch belonging
to Edward VI. as being "one larum or
watch of iron, tho case being likowiso of
iron guilt, with two plummets of lead."
Such early watches had only one hand,
and required to be wound up twice a day.
The dials were of silver and brass, the
cases had no crystals, but opened at the
back and front, and were four or five
inches in diameter—about the size of a
common dessert plato.
Henry VIII., wbo died in 1547, had one
of those pockot-clocks, as did his con
temporary, Charles V. Watches seem to
have come into a wider use about that
time in France than in England, for thoy
wore named with clocks in a statute on
acted in Paris in 1544.
All the earlier watches wore extremely
rude measurers of timo, and the necessity
of frequent winding is alluded to by
Shakspoare in "Twelfth Night," where he
makes Malvolio say: "I frown the while,
and perchance wind-up my watch, or play
with some rich jewel."
The first great improvement of the
watch—the substitution of springs for
weights—was in 1560. These springs
wore not coiled, but were only straight
pieces of steel, boon afterward the fusee
was invented, connected with a coiled
mainspring in a barrel. This was fast
ened to a pieee of catgut, which was
wound around ft spiral-grooved fusee in
tho shape of ft cone. The last coils were
around the small end of the cone, thus
presenting in the running of the watch
tUo least leverage to the greatest force of
the spring. As tho cone was unwound,
the leverage changed in proportion to the
force of the spring. This made it possi
ble to attain considerable accuracy in
the running of the watch. A small linked
chain was soon substituted for tho cat
gut, and this style of manufacture re
inained until comparatively recent times.
The spiral hair-spring, which is so neces
sary for equalizing the motion, was in
vented and attached about the year 1658
by Dr. Hook. Lengthening or shortening
the spring lessens or increases the vibra
tions and made the regulation of the
watch an easv matter.
The oases of the early watches wore
made for personal adornments, and werG
of all sorts and shapes. Que that be
longed To Lady Fifzgerald telle in a curi
ous way the classio tale of Jupiter and
Ganymede. The woiks are contained in
the body of the eagle, which opens across
the center and displays the dial plate
richly engraved with scrolls and flowers.
The silver gilt watch in the form of o
death's head was given to Mary Queen
of Scots by her husband, the Dauphin of
France. It was lately in the possession
of Sir John Lauder, and came to his fam
ily through Catherine Seton, to whom
the unfortunate Mary gave it before hei
execution.
There is a similar watch in a Boston
museum that belonged to some one of
the pilgrim fathers. It is of silver in the
form of a death's head, but differs from
the one engraved here by opening at the
under jaw. It has at the top a small ring
by means of which it was attacked to the
girdle.
When the famous Diana of Poitiors bo
came allied to Henry 11. she was a wide*
and the complacent court went into
I mourning on a most grievous scale,
j Rings were made in the form of skele
tons, coffins of gold contained chased
and enameled figures of death, and
watches were made in the form of skulls.
: These were worn as ornaments, and are a
i fair sample of the extremes to which
fashion will sometimes go.
Early in the seventeenth century all
these strange forms passed out. The
1 watch-makers succeeded in making the
j watches more compact and they assumed
! substantially their present form, exoepl
I that in order to protect the key-hole they
were surrounded by a large silver case.
This gave them the shape of the flal
turnip und the popular voice irreverently
called them "turnip watches." The outei
case was usually the repository of sundry
verses and devices—tokens of love oi
friendship—which, although generally
printed on satin, or more frequently
worked with the needle, were always
designated watch papers. Sometimes
they were poetical conceits like the fol
lowing:
Time is—the present moment well employ;
Time was—is past—thou canst not it enjoy
Time future—is not and may never bo;
Time prosont—is the only tlmo for thee.
The French were the first to introduce
judicious improvements in weight and
size. A watch that once belonged to
Charles 1., having been presented to him
by Louis XIII., was of an oval shape, two
inches by one and a half on the face, nnd
an inch thick. The back is chased iD
high relief with a figure of St. George
conouering the dragon. The motto oi
the Garter, "Honi soit qui mol y pense, r
surrounds the ease, which is enriched
with enameled colors. There was one
exception to the grotesque forms which
wont out of fashion in the seventeenth
century, and that was in the case of
watches made in the form of a cross and
intended to be hung by a ring to the
girdle.
They are sometimes called abbess
watchos, but for no good reason. One
curious fact in the history of watches is
that in one of the halls at Oxford there
is the figure of a female who is said tc
havo been the first wearer of a watch
No one seems to know what her name
was or when she lived.
The Small Boy's Scheme.
"Gimmo a nickel's worth of buck
shot," said a St. Paul gamin wearing
somewhat disordered raiment. His
head just topped the counter in a ba
zar devoted to sporting goods.
"I suppose lie will load them into a
rusty pistol and accidentally shoot some
one of his intimate friends,' suggested
a bystander.
"Oh, no," replied the proprietor of the
gun store; "he has no firearms. He is
going in to beat tlio nickel-in-the-slol
scheme, and I suppose I am particeps
criminia."
"How?"
"Why, lie will put them on the
street-car track; the car will convert
tliem into the exact size of nickles am?
pennies, and, of course, von can antici
pate the financial pauic iiable to ensue
in St. Paul shortly, with a gum ma
chine at almost every corner." St.
Paul Pioneer Press.
Outgrown Ills Father.
Mr. Hawbeck—You ain't seen mj
son afore, have yer ?
City Visitor—Why, no. Ycrv likely
ihov, isn't he? Takes after his father
I Mr. Hawheck—You bet he does, wlier
|he gets riled. Took after me four time!
j 'round tli' barn this moruin' 'cause 1
' spoke kind 'r irritated to him.— Judys
The Longevity or Birds.
The swan is the longest-lived bird,
and it is asserted that it has reached
the age of 100 years. Knauer, in his
work entitled "Naturhistoriker," states
that he has seen a falcon that was 162
years old. The following examples are
cited as to the longevity of the eagle
and vulture: A sea eagle captured iD
1715, and already several years of age,
died 104 years afterward, in 1810; a
white-headed vulture, captured in 1706,
died in 1826, in one of the aviaries of
Schoenbrunn Castle, near Vienna,
where it had passed 118 years in cap
tivity. Paroquets and ravens reach an
age of over 100 years. The life of sea
and marsh birds sometimes equals that
of several human generations. Like
many other birds, magpies live to be
very old in a state of freedom, but do
not reach over twenty or twenty-five
years in captivity. The nightingale
lives bnt ten years in captivity and the
blackbird fifteen. Canary birds reach
an age of from twelve to fifteen years
in the cage, but those flying at liberty
in their native islands reach a much
more advanced age.
THIS IS an age when everything
goes, except tho bore and the Sunday
night caller.
flow MEN MUST DRESS.
CUE MATERIAL AND THE SHAPING
OF THE CLOTH OF 1890.
Cuts of Coats Where with Gentlemen May
Feel Abreast or the Year's Fashions-
Wide Wale Worsteds uml Soft Finish to
Rule the Modes of Good Dressing the
Current Season.
HE question as to
liow a man shall
dress himself is easi
er asked than an
swered. There are
certain canons of
taste which override
i all fashions, and to
ft these he must ap
-1 peal who would be
c\ really and truly a
■ well-dressed man. A
R Chicago Times re
" porter recently vis
ited a number of the
arbiters of taste and
material in the "World's Fair city, and
out of their wisdom the following
facts were evolved:
In the first place men's clothes, as a
whole, if they are to be really chic,
will show the softest possible finish,
coats will display low openings and
ample sleeves, vests will follow this
form, and trousers will sit moderately
close to the leg as to the upper works,
and will exhibit a moderate spring at
the bottom.
In overcoats the Chesterfield or fly
front oversack will be much more worn
than any other style. It will be made
from worsteds and almost all styles of
soft overcoatings, and will be of me-
THB COVHBT < OAT.
dium length, thirty-six to thirty-seven
j inches being the limits for a man of
j average height, 5 feet 8 inphes.
| The covert overcoat, made of covert
: overcoating, modified for street wear,
j will be quite popular with many who
have no very profound regard for the
eternal fitness of things.
| For day and half dress the double
i breasted frock is the. most appropriate,
; as it is the most elegant style of coat
made. For day dress it will have
lapels of ample width, well peaked,
and silk-faced to the button-holes, oi
which there will he five on each side.
It will roll when closed to the third
hole, hut when unbuttoned will roll
free. The lengths for a man of aver
age height will be eighteen and one
half inches to the hip buttons and
thirty-six inches to the bottom of
skirts. It will be made of worsteds and
cheviots.
The three-button cutaway frock will
bo, as for several seasons, more popu
lar than the four, two, or one button or.
The lengths will average eighteen and
one-half and thirty-tliree inches, the
roll will be moderately long, and the
fronts will be cut away so as to show
one button of the vest. The four-but
toner will close higher on the chest
and button a trifle lower, while the
ONIC-UUTTON CUT A WAT.
the two-buttoner will open lower and
be cut away from rather higher above
the waist-seam. For half-dress these
cutaways will be made from worsteds
or cheviots, with the edges flat-braided
narrow if the former and double
stitched narrow if the latter material
is used.
The vest worn with them may be of
DOUBLB-BREABTED FROCK COAT.
the same material as the coat, or of
any fancy vesting, and the trousers
may he of any style of striped, cheek
ed or plain trousering.
Early in the season the doubts-breast
ed sack will, perhaps, be crre worn
than the other styles. It has quite a
number of good points to recommend
it. It can be worn without an over
coat, it is very dressy when silk-faced,
and it is very becoming to a good
figure.
So much for the general effect to
be produced by the new year's clothes.
Now for the special and particular de
tails out of which these results are to
be achieved. The first out shows the
covert coat. The material represented
is a covert overcoating. The length
for a man of average height, five feet
eight inches, is thirty-four inches. The
hack is cut whole, with pearly straight
side-seams that are finished with vents,
and the form, though its shape is sug
gested, is fitted loosely. The collar
nnd lapels are light, the roll averages
four and a half inches in length, and
tho edges are double-stitched moderate
ly wide. The pockets have flaps to go
in or out, and the sleeves, which are
cut half and half, are finished with
three rows of stitching around the lx>t
torn. The seams are lapped and stitch
ed to match the edges.
In the next cut is exhibited one ol
those new one-button cutawav suits
which are designed especially for per
sons of a rather corpulent build. The
material is a wide wool worsted and a
striped trousering. The roll of the
coat is about six inches deep.
The fronts are cut away from the
closing button with a gentle curve, and
are well rounded from midway of skirt
to the bottom. The edges are bound,
or flat-braided narrow, and the sleeves
are finished with imitation cuffs, closed
with two buttons.
The vest extends about one and a
half inches below the waist seam of the
coat, closes with five buttons, and has
a notched collar.
The trousers are more shapely, pro-
A mOHT-WmQHT OVBBCOAT,
portionately, than for a regular form,
but should have the same appearance
of looseness.
In the double-breasted frock coat
shown in the next cut it is claimed
that for half-dress there is nothing
more suitable, effective, or appropriate
than tho suit shown in this figure.
The material represented for the coat
and vest is a fancy diagonal worsted
and for the trousers a very handsome,
subdued, striped trousering. The col
lar of the coat is cut rather long to a
low gorge and tho lapels ore well
peaked and spaced for five holes, to
button four if desired. The silk ex
tends to the end of holes and the edges
ore flat braided. Tho sleeves are
shapely and are finished to imitate
cuffs closed with two buttons. The
trousers for this and all othor lialf-dross
suits average nineteen iuches at knee
and seventeen and one-half to eighteen
at the bottom. They have a slight
spring.
The next illustration shows a low
roll sack suit the material of which is
a striped cheviot. The collars and
lapels are one and one-half inches wide
and the fronts are cut with quite a
curve from top to lower button. They
are finished soft. Tho trousers with
this suit average nineteen and one-half
inches at the knee and eighteen at the
bottom, and the side-seams are finished
with a welt.
In the figure represented following
this the overcoat is a soft diagonaj
cheviot, the coat and vest a medium
wule worsted, and the pantaloons s
striped trousering.
The overcoat is an accurate repre
sentation of a light-weight overcoat foi
the current season, thrown open.
Ail Old Idea In a New Form.
The first cut shows a very prettily de
signed and stylish combination chair
and table that is just now coming Into
COMBINATION CHAIR AND TADI.I.
vogue; the second, the old style dining
table and settee, which may still bo
found in the houses of pioneer New
COMBINATION srrrx* AND TABLE.
England and New York families. It i)
easy to see that the idea of the new may
have bean taken from the old.
The Engine 01 emulation.
Great editor (severely)— There was
no base-ball news in the paper to-day
Local man—But, sir, base-ball isn't
played in tho winter, and I've exhaust
ed all the new club rumors, now asso
ciation fakes, and reports of possible
changes of one sort or another. There
isn't a scrap more I can get hold of.
"Then print the old scraps ovei
again. You don't suppose I want tc
lose all my subscribers, do you?"—
New York Weekly.
IN a report on the Kolar gold
field of southern India, Mr. B.
Smith mentions the finding of interest
ing remains of ancient mining, such as
old timbering, fragments of bones, an
oil lamp, and pieces of earthonware.
The fact that the old miners, with
their simple appliances, rcaohod depth!
of 200 or 300 feet, through hard rock
astonishes him.
WHEN ONE FALLS OVERBOARD,
It Strikes Terror Ito the Hearts of the
Bravest of Men.
HEItE is no sound
aboard ship so de-
A v'morali/.ing as that
J( \ of "Man over
ft) a,\\, board!" It strikes
<^jTv/1 S 1 terror to the heart
v 1 of the bravest of
S men, and only the
L r—ll;—best disciplined
crews can with
f] * - stand the panic it
if A / a=== " : ==s usually produces.
fit) Almost every ship
HFVX has a particular
%-t ' -A- rule of action for
such occurrences. The best precon
certed arrangements, however, are
often inapplicable, and success de
pends maiidy on the presence of mind
of the watch, the man at the life buoy,
and the normal condition of the boats.
A cool hand will drop the life buoy
sometimes within reach of a man; a
"bothered" one will either not let go
at all or do so before the man has got
near the stern. Of all persons aboard
ship, the officer of the deck should be
cool and collected.
Rear Admiral S. B. Luce lays down
the principle that the most important
considerations when a man falls over
board are: First, the quickest and
most effectual method of arresting the
ship's progress and how to keep her as
near the spot where the man fell as
possible. Second, to preserve the gen
eral discipline of the ship, to maintain
silence, and to enforce tho most prompt
obedience, without permitting foolhardy
volunteering of any kind. Third, to see
that the boat appointed to be employed
on these occasions is placed in such a
manner that she may be cast loose in
a moment, and when ready for lower
ing that she is properly manned and
fitted, so as to be efficient in all re
spects when she reaches the water.
Fourth, to take care in lowering the
boat neither to stave or swamp her
nor to pitch the men out. And, lastly,
to have a sufficient number of the
sharpest-sighted men in the ship sta
tioned aloft in such a manner as to
give them the best chance not only ol
discovering the person overboard, but
of pointing him out to the men in the
boat, who may not otherwise know in
what direction to pull.
With steamers the difficulties tc
overcome in rescuing a man overboard
are comparatively few, inasmuch as a
steam-vessel is alwavs under control sc
long as her machinery is in good or
der. The rule is to stop as quickly as
possible, lower the life-boat, and pick
the man up. The really fine points ol
! seamanship come into play when sail
ing ships are being handled. The or
deal is a trying one for the best of ofti
cers, and the young seamen who can
properly placo a large sailing ship and
rescue a man that has fallen overboard
deserve the highest credit for seaman
ship qualities.
Two Hundred Women Killed,
A letter from Zanzibar says thatove)
a year ago a caravan of 1100 Arabs left
the East Coast to go into the interior tc
trade. They have now returned, and
one of the chiefs relates their advent
ures. Arriving at Kavirondo, on the
northeast shores of Victoria Nyauza
the Arabs saw that tho natives had a
good deal of ivory and that they had uc
[guns. They attacked the tribe, ami
. before the shooting had gone on long
the natives were willing to do anything
' to make peace.
After a long palaver with the chiefs
the Arabs agreed to leave the country
upon the payment to them of two hun
died tusks of ivory and two hundred
young women. The natives were glad
to get rid of the enemy even on these
hard conditions. As soon as they re
ceived tho ivory nnd the women the
Arabs started for the coast. They had
a terrible time in the Masai country.
There was a drought, and they almost
perished of thirst. Then provisions
became scarcer and scarcer, and the
whole party was in danger of stnrva
tion. Finally the Arab chiefs decided
that, in order to save themselves and
their ivory, it would bo necessary tc
sacrifice their female slaves, who were
very weak from their deprivations and
could march no further.
That night all of these two hundred
young women were shot to death and
their bodies were left in the camp foi
beasts of prey. The victims happily
had not a moment's warning of tlieij
impending fate. Each murderer se
lected his intended victim, nnd the
horrible crime was accomplished sc
speedily that few of the women made
any outcry. With their force thus
summarily reduced the Arabs were
able to pull through the desert re
gion, obtnining little more food tliar
barely enough to sustain life.
The chief who related these faetf
in Zanzibar showed no compunction!
, whatever for tho terrible crime ir
! which ho had assisted, but mentioned
- the massacre only to give an idea o:
the great loss they had sustained by
tho necessary sacrifice of the two hun
dred slaves. It is a curious fact that
some of the murderers were troubled
in mind because their necessities hac
compelled them to eat rats and othe)
unclean food, which is prohibited tc
Mohammedans on the march.— Revw
Francaise.
Kind-Hearted.
Mrs. Simkins has just heard tha
her husband has been drawn to servi
on a jury.
"John Simkins on the crimiua
jury!" exclaimed Mrs. Simkins. "Well
all 7 can say is that I congratulate tbi
criminals."
"Why, Mrs. Simkins? Is your hus
band a very merciful man ?"
"Merciful? Why, John Simkin:
wouldn't hang a pictur', much less t
door, unless he was jest made to!"
i Youth's Companion.
Too Strong to Work.
First tramp (watching men and worn
en coming from the mill)— Pretty sickly
i looking crowd, ain't they, Bill?
Second tramp—They are, pard. A
parson once told me that work was
healthy, but I don't believe him. We'ri
as fat as them people, ain't we? — Bos
j ton Herald.
I
■Not So Sensible.
1 "Father," exclaimed young Jenkins,
' entering the old gentleman's office, "1
have sold my newspaper office "
"Sit down, Tom. lam glad to see
[ that you are so sensible."
"Yes, father, I have sold my office,
but I have bought another one."
"Get upl You have lost what little
sense you ever did have."— Arkansau
Traveler
THE electrio companies seem to be
almost as proud of their dead men as
thev are of their live wires