Burlington Hawk Eye, March 16, 1890

Burlington Hawk Eye

March 16, 1890

View full pageStart a free trial

Issue date: Sunday, March 16, 1890

Pages available: 8

Previous edition: Saturday, March 15, 1890

Next edition: Tuesday, March 18, 1890

NewspaperARCHIVE.com - Used by the World's Finest Libraries and Institutions

About Burlington Hawk Eye

Publication name: Burlington Hawk Eye

Location: Burlington, Iowa

Pages available: 549,513

Years available: 1845 - 2016

Learn more about this publication

About NewspaperArchive.com

  • 2.13+ billion articles and growing everyday!
  • More than 400 years of papers. From 1607 to today!
  • Articles covering 50 U.S.States + 22 other countries
  • Powerful, time saving search features!
Find your ancestors now
Start your Genealogy Search now
See with your own eyes the newspapers your great-great grandparents held.

View sample pages : Burlington Hawk Eye, March 16, 1890

Get access to these newspapers Plus 2.13+ billion other articles

OCR Text

Burlington Hawk Eye (Newspaper) - March 16, 1890, Burlington, Iowa PART ONE ] THE BURLINGTON Ti i E rn E I I. Established: June, 1859.] BURLINGTON, IOWA, SUMBA I MORNING, MARCH 16, 1890.- EIGHT PAGES. [Price: 15 Cents per Week, IU. LESLIE DECLARES THAT DIESS IS I PLEASES NECESSITY, Importance of “Tabbing” -Dainty Ca-dercle thing — Black Silk Safest!-fates for Lace and Huslia—A Good Word for Corsets. I C°Py right, 1890.] HERE is no use in p r e t e n ding that the question of dress is a frivolous or an idle one, or that sensible women* are above it, or that a woman who finds herself with “nothing to wear’ and takes time and thought in providing herself with something must needs be a Flora McFlimsey. I have often insisted both by tongue and pen that every woman owes a duty to the world—poor things, we owe so many duties to tho world—but one especial duty peculiar to woman is that of beautifying the earth and doing her best to counteract the .sordid, material and deadening influences always struggling to “come out on top.” All women are not pretty, all are not graceful, or “stylish,” or attractive, or imposing; but every woman has a best side, and it is her duty to know it and to make the most of it, and to keep it on view instead of the worst side, which so many of the dear creatures seem determined to present. Every woman, if she means to fill her own place in the world, is bound to make the most of herself and to keep on doing It as long as she lives. Of course there are ever so many ways to apply this rule, and I have in other places pointed some of them out and urged them upon the attention of the sisterhood, but today I confine myself to the one question of dress. To begin with, every style, every degree, every caprice of costume must be founded upon personal cleanliness. It may be thought too candid a statement, and I do sincerely hope that every woman reading these words will be righteously indignant at such a warning, but to such an one I will say: Of course, my dear, it is not meant for you any more than for myself, but there are women!- • Well, then, the well dressed woman must be not many hours from her bath, and must carry about her that atmosphere of freshness so obvious and characteristic of the upper classes in England; “well groomed” they call themselves, and a young Englishman, whatever else you may say of him, does suggest the idea of buckets of water, sponges, towels, combs and brushes. So, iii a more subdued style, should the well dressed woman, whether her costume be of cotton, wool, silk or cloth of gold. Next to the bath comes lingerie, and again I say, no woman, whatever the fabric of her outer dress may be, is well dressed, or dressed as she should be, unless she has dainty underclothing. “But a good many of us can’t afford it!” cries a voice in my ear, and I reply: , But we all can, my dear, for “dainty” does not always mean expensive, and one of the very daintiest outfits of linen that I ever saw was made for herself by a young girl of small means but great refinement, about to be married. The only expense in the whole matter was that she had used cambric instead of that Stout cotton fabric which in New York Is called “muslin,” and which, although a few cents in the yard cheaper than cambric^, is utterly incapable of being made dainty. Well, not to enter into particulars, my little bride had crocheted and tatted and netted and knitted the greatest variety of trimmings, and had run little blue ribbons in at neck and sleeves and frills, and had embroidered a big monogram on everything, and in some places had appliqued sprigs and wreaths of French embroidery, and in fact had quite unconsciously to herself written the word lady over the whole business, until it seemed to me almost a liberty to be turning over and admiring such personal matters. The dear child had hardly half a dozen gowns in her trousseau, and none of those at all expensive; but although she I lad not made them she had contrived them, aud each one told, and would do its whole duty and always look appropriate to the occasion. Two dresses were planned to be made into one after a year or two, and would then be more effective than either could be alone, and a sumptuous evening dress with a court train and low body could, by detaching the train aud substituting a high bodice, be worn in the street or at a reception. A silk slip was provided with two or three very distinct gauze and lace over dresses, and so throughout, for this bride was destined to that hardest of positions for a woman—that of one who wishes and is required to dress well upon means. She lived in the world, and among people richer than herself, but as I looked through the scanty trous seau and saw how every penny spent upon it was made to tell, and how good taste, and discretion, and willing fingers had supplemented the money outlay, I felt serenely confident that Mrs. would always be one of the best dressed women of my acquaintance and so, in fact, she is. But again, it is not every woman who, lacking money, has skill or time to make pretty things for herself, and to such I would say: Don't sink down into feeling that you don’t care! Do the very best you can with the means at. your command, and keep on trying to do better. Get a few pretty underclothes and by care in mending, putting on a new edging, running in a bright ribbon, etc., things may be kept pretty for a long while. I was in a shop once with a little lady who gathered up the blue ribbons the salesman stripped off of a bale of mull, whispering to me, “It goes nicely in an Insertion! One article of underwear deserves especial notice, and that is the corset, certain class of reformers have bent their energies more or less for many years to the destruction and exile of this “means of grace,” and with some success. A hideous garment, mr, rather, an agglomeration of garments, known as a “dress reform,” or a “combination,*’ has been iftTented, nnd a large class of brave anc determined women have worn them. and some continue to wear them, but Whence the satisfaction they seem to de-flee and the benevolent wish to induce everybody else to follow their example, t never could understand. They certain->in appearance, for I don’t think ■Mat rabid reformer can wally ma zer the bulky waists, the fiat busts and the queer look as if the woman and hor clothes were walking in opposite directions, or as if the house were on fire and she had thrown some shapeless wrapper over her nightdress. Of course, everybody concedes, in these days of hygiene and common sense, that a corset should never be worn tight enough to hinder respiration, even under violent exercise. It should never make one feel it uncomfortable to throw one’s self upon a lounge in the daytime, nor should it be a relief to take it off at night. It should be simply, as the old ’ashioned name implies, a “stay” to the Ijody, holding it in comely form and making a smooth, harmonious surface over which to fit the gown. And to do this properly the corset must be well made and of good material. Don't buy joor ones, if you go without one of your [owns to secure the price of good ones. you have a naturally good figure a cheap corset won’t fit you; if you have a >oor figure no dressmaker can make it jotter unless you give her a good corset to fit over. Cheap corsets are always straight up and down, scant in the bust and hips, stiff and unyielding of fabric and furnished with bogus bones that warp and break at once. Leave everything under $3 to the dress reformers as objects of holy horror and whets to their appetites for anathema. A caprice of fashion in these later years has suggested underclothing and corsets of various tints and fabrics, culminating in black silk. During one of my visits to Paris I allowed myself to ae persuaded into buying some sets of this black silk raiment, including a corset, but I did so merely to secure a memento of a vagary of the mode sure to soon pass away; for however pretty and piquant rose, or blue, or scarlet, or black may be in contrast with a soft, white neck and arms, nothing satisfies the eye, or soothes the conscience of good taste, ike creamy white in cambric and lace and embroidery. One, however, must lere make an exception in the matter of lose, which should, to my mind, never be white, unless in harmony with some especial costume. Boots, again, are a matter where one may not judiciously economize. Be your foot pretty or ugly, be sure you will spoil it both as to appearance and feeling by wearing cheap and therefore ill fitting boots. When I have time I mean to devote myself to the question of why cheap garments, corsets, shoes, skirts, gloves, whatever you please, are always fashioned for ill shaped forms. Why is it not as easy to cut a cheap shoe long and narrow and with a high instep as short and wide and flat? And so with all the rest; you cannot economize on corsets, shoes or gloves and be well dressed. And one word more: If you have slippers let them be chronic invalids, never leaving the bedroom! It is very nice and comfortable to have a pair to slip into as you go to your bath or your wardrobe, or sit at your toilet table at night, but there ends their appropriate use. Well fitting yet cozy boots are the wear for every other emergency of life. They are the most becoming of all foot gear; they brace and protect the ankle, and they are in the long run (no pun intended) far more comfortable than slippers or low shoes. Of course they may be so prettily and delicately made as to suit the airiest costume, and when of that style are a fascinating detail of a dancing costume. I remember a pair I had made of violet silk to match a costume, which were really loves. And as a proof that good and well fitted boots preserve the feet from change or infirmity, I will mention that my own have been made upon the same last for twenty years without the least change, and that I can put on a new pair before breakfast and wear them all day without once remembering them. 3ut they are good boots. So having disposed of what may be called the confidential portion of a woman's toilet, let us consider those “outward and visible signs” by which the world will judge whether she is well dressed or not. As to material. So many women seem to fancy that a very cheap silk is necessarily better than a good woolen or even cotton fabric. Now, it is not so; and I always want to say as much to the dear struggling souls whom I often meet in much trimmed robes of that thin and rustling silk which reminds one of dried autumn leaves whirling along before a dusty breeze. Even such silk costs quite as much as good cashmere, or some one of the hundred other varieties of soft woolen fabrics, and the cost of the cheap and showy passementerie used to trim the silk would have provided enough good silk, or velvet, or handsome buttons to make the wool dress all that it should lie. Here is a little secret: Any one accustomed to think of such things, seeing you in that silk would perceive that you could not afford to buy a good one and had to put up with the second choice or the third, but, seeing the good woolen, would take it for granted that you preferred it to silk, and that you were able to buy a very good one and trim it accordingly. Another suggestion is this: Let each year look out for itself, and only provide gowns and wraps enough at once for that season. A street dress, if tailor made, or at least in the plain and somewhat severe style suited to a walking dress, one or two dinner or evening dresses, and a Dretty house dress are all that anybody needs for one season even in society, and these should be renewed each year, and made in the latest style of the day. A great many persons always object to any new fashion. They won’t wear crinoline, and they consider bustles a deformity, and they object to high shoulders, and they don’t like the new hats, or the new fashion of wearing the hair, and they sneer, and fuss, and laugh* at them all during their freshness and novelty. and then at last come creeping in, when everything is old and stale, with a feeble and melancholy compromise, and often end by wearing that especial thing after everybody else has abandoned it. No, let us adopt the new fashions while they are new, say I, and lead rather than follow the field, unless we are resolved never to adopt any change at all, and in that case better to don the Sister of Charity's costume at once. But if you would do this, if you would really be stylish and abreast of the mode, have few gowns at a time and do not try to make last year's gown answer for this year. If it can be made over so as not to be recognized, have it made over, or give it to your sister, your cousin or your aunt, but for yourself imitate the lilies of tike field, who dress them selves entirely fresh for every season. And whatever you do with the old gowns, let me implore you not to try to wear them out at homo I Any man is justified in divorcing a wife who wears dirty finery at home and makes her evening dresses serve as wrappers for the breakfast table. You can buy charming wunhriffg and ginghams for ten or fifteen cents a yard and make a fresh and pretty house gown for less than $5, mid in it you wMl very likely convince your husband that zfin dp deny to toe which I Bonnet he would be sure . to soiled dinner dress. Then one final point upon most strenuously insist is this: Every woman has her own style, and she never will be well dressed until she has learned what it is, and learned to humor it and encourage it. Are you tall, straight and of painful thinness? Don’t wear stripes or redingotes or tailor made wraps. Are you quite the reverse? Eschew draperies and fluffiness about the shoulders, and horizontal trimmings. I walked a little way yesterday behind an unfortunate lady,very short and very broad, who wore a velvet dolman reaching only to the waist in the back and very high upon the shoulders, and I was sorry for her. But this paper has reached its utmost limits, and ie3t it should not be printed at all I must here cut short the thread with which I have caught together these stray fig leaves of fashion, and say at once Good-by. Mrs. Frank Leslie. LOSS OF MEMORY FOR SIX MONTHS. A Singular Story of a New Hampshire Man's Aimless Wanderings. A strange story of loss of memory is that told by Arthur Dow, who disappeared Aug. 30 last from Littleton, N. H., and was found by his wife in Seattle, Wash. At the time Dow disappeared from Littleton he was a successful merchant there, having a business worth $300,000, on which he realized $26,000 a year. Dow was a church member, a strictly temperate man, and enjoyed the confidence of the entire community. He was married to an estimable lady and had two daughters, aged 8 and 9. He disappeared, no one knew whither. Rewards were offered and detectives employed, but to no avail. His wife and friends, after a month of inquiry, gave him up for dead, supposing he had met foul play. He left his business affairs in such good condition that his wife’s friends soon straightened them out. In February Mrs. Dow was greatly surprised to receive a letter from her husband dated Tacoma, Jan. 27. Its tone indicated mental incapacity. Mrs. Dow at once telegraphed to Mrs. Philip Win-sor, a married sister in Seattle, to go to Tacoma and take care of her husband. Then she boarded a train for Seattle. Philip Winsor went to Tacoma and found the missing merchant. He looked wild. His hair had grown down to his shoulders and his beard was long and unkempt. He told a strange story. He said that when he left home he had a hallucination that a man in Plymouth, N. H., would sell him a large amount of coal at a fabulously low rate. He went there, but imagining the man had gone west followed. He lost all memory of his own name for several months, which were perfect blank. He had checks and $126 in his pocket. When he got to Portland, Ore., Nov. ll, he came partly to his senses and tried to buy a ticket to go home on the train. The price was $59 and he had only $50. He remembered that he had relatives in Seattle and bought a ticket there, but on the train he relapsed again and lost all idea of identity and remained at Tacoma. He has an indistinct idea that he was an inmate of a hospital for many weeks. He thinks he owes a large bill for medical attendance, but the impression is vague. His instinct of self preservation led to securing work in a sash and door factory in Tacoma. A short time before he wrote to his wife he was seized with the grippe. When he recovered from this, although in debt, his mind seemed to brighten. He realized who he was and wrote to his wife, telling her he was in debt for board and medical attendance, and to send hibi enough money to pay his way home. He was brought to Mrs. Winsor's house. When his wife arrived the scene between the long lost husband and wife can better be imagined than described. Mr. Dow had brightened perceptibly, and hopes of recovery are entertained. The family were talking about Masonry, when Mr. Dow remarked: “Why, I am a Knight Templar. I forgot all about it till this moment. In my troubles if I had known I would not have wanted for anything. I would have been cared for and restored to my wife and family; but I forgot the fact, too, when I failed to remember my name. It is funny, but it seems to me I forgot everything. The past is a complete blank for several months.”—Chicago Tribune. BILL NYE IN IU. Hiram of the ieetiis of wdeoot aid comm CHIEF The Advantages and Attractions of the Chief Cities in the State An Essay. on Prohibition, Prehistoric Remains and Early Settlers. Difference in Sponges. There are very many people who cannot tell the difference between “Turkey cups” and common reef sponges, and they are astounded at the difference in price. They are asked $8 for what they think they can get just as good for twenty-five cents. There are sponges from Florida called sheep’s wool, which, in the opinion of many buyers, are as good, although much cheaper, for all practical purposes as the silk ones. They are used mainly for .washing carriages, although they make a good bathing sponge. Reef sponges come from Cuba and Nassau. Turkey cups from around tile islands of the Archipelago. Sheep’s wool and reef sponges come in ten, twenty and forty pound bales, and the finest of the former, known as Rock Island goods, sell wholesale at from $2.80 to $3.15 per pound. The Turkey cups are sorted at London and Paris into three qualities and sent to us in bags. They are sold by the piece.—Boston Globe. [Copyright, 1890, by Edgar W. Nye.] About three hundred and fifty years ago Coronado pitched his tent in Kansfla, Prior to that it is believed that the foot of a white man had not been the author of any footprints to speak of within her borders. The early reddish Indian had, up to that date, been the sole proprietor of that country. Coronado found a fat and friendly set of Indians, quite a number of whom he married, in a cursory manner, after which he went away from the place. He formed tile acquaintance at that time of old W ideout, chief of the Cow biters, a very warlike and revengeful race. Wideout weighed, it is estimated, 400 pounds, though not very tall, say ffW feet four inches in height. So we may classify bimas the widest red American, aside from Noah Webster, of whom history informs us. Coronado, however, was not in search of Indians or a homestead, or even rest and change of scene, but he was looking for gold a* the time, being a cold, grasping native such as flourished during the luxurious Castilian days or under the New Orleans dvnastv. Not finding any gold in tne region ox Wichita, and town lots being far beyond his reach, he retraced his steps. He lived, however, to regret that he did not secure property there and hold it for a rise. For some years the Wichita Indians and the Osages occupied the most desirable portions of Sedgwick county, and tile buffalo with the foreshortened narrative walked the main streets of Wichita unscared. The first white man to settle in the county was John Ross. He was followed by Ilia hired man, both being buried in the same grave at the earnest solicitations of the Indians. In 1S63 Hon. James R. Mead established a trading post on the site of Wichita and began killing the buffalo in order to clear off sufficient ground to start the new board of trade building. In three weeks Mr. Mead killed 330 buffalo, and saved 300 pelts in addition to his own. He also saved 3,500 pounds of tallow, which served to lubricate his boots all that winter. William Mathewson, who, it is claimed, is the original Buffalo Bill of the frontier, then settled here. His wife was the first white woman to come to Wichita. The first official act of the county commissioners was to issue a license for a new saloon. In 1870 D. S. Hunger kept a hotel, was postmaster, carried the mail in his hat, able grain growing state. Her soil Ia rich and black, her people full of hope and good victuals. Corn is low at the present rime, but there is enough for food and fuel for the winter, the crop being unusually large. The man who A said that by the light of his burning corn ; the Kansas farmer was enabled to reed • the mortgage on his farm was a pessi- ;    —-- mist with a tendency toward ^oneida. | gandering Among the Uhs rf Us Gut of the labor and anguish of war, * drouth and pestilence in Kansas was born a beautiful state, and within her borders dwell a proud, prosperous and prohibition people. Com grows to a great height, and so ; do the pleasing anecdotes regarding the j productive soil of Kansas. I saw an ear of com two feet long the other day, and stalks of corn twenty feet high. Also the unruffled remains of a grasshopper j four feet long. I do not know how they ! LOST ON SANDY BOOK. WEIRD MIGHT TBA1P THROUGH CEDARS abd said duke;. Ships—What the Wares S?em to Say-The Shattered Tombstones — Safe In the Hotel McGinty. on Sandy Hook! Portentous is the word “lost” at any time. Lost enough but coupled as it is in this instance with a waste of sand dunes bristling with the bones of lost ships and dead men. it were constructed, but they looked first t UHX)Lnes doubly portentous. Yes, I was rate.    |    tost on Sandy Hook, and in the darkest Kansas is one of the most healthful , night that ever threw a pall over lonely states in the union. People live 60 long 1 sea and shore. How I came to be a wan-here that they get tired of life. The j dering wayfarer on that lonely, aye. God death rate is only 8 to every 1,000 people, the mortality being almost as low as it is among French duelists. The Arkansas Valley is now called “the American Nile.” All the rich allu- jrial and such things as that have been borne down from the eastern slopes of the Rocky mountains and spread over this fertile plain. For six thousand years it was a pasture for the buffalo, the deer and the antelope, and while    ,    ,    -    , a    ^    ;    wandered in the spin awaiting, its destiny as a great agnail-1 iii-    ii.  i    •. u " u    .    ,    °    >    old    drives    and    bv    t tural hotbed, it has been watered by the KANSAS CORN. dews of heaven and enriched by the decaying aristocracy of the Osage and Wichita Indians. The dust of preada-mite man, watered by the tears of the more modern and renaissance grasshopper sufferer, has laid the foundation for the granaries of the world and stimulated the bright eyed prevaricator to do honor to his state. Emporia is a more quiet city, with fewer reading notices than Wichita, but forsaken strand matters but little. Suffice it to say that late one afternoon I had paid a visit to a little grave far up on the hi’lside of the eternal Highlands of Navesink. LOOKING BACKWARD. As I stood t>eside that tiny tomb recollections of another sainted one came over me, and so real did her presence seem that with her hand in mine we two it down through tile tile old alder trees, which she once knew so well, and on by the twin lighthouses and across the dark, flowing river to the sea beach, where we two had so often strolled before. And she led me thus unheeding my where-al>outs. only heeding her presence and the same old love light in lier eyes* ’Twas thus she led me down these old paths, her memory floating back out of the past like a half forgotten song, until suddenly the deep diapason of the surf swelled up and swallowed the song of our loves. | That sweet voice was lost. I called for her in vain. The waves roared a mocking reply that sounded like “Nevermore.” In vain did I plead for that sweet voice. Again did the great organ of the surf respond remorselessly in a grand chorus, “Nevermore.” In inane rage I flung myself on the strand. Then cooler moments intervened, and there on the wet sand, with none but God and the rippling river to hear, I poured out my soul in sorrow. And the starlight fell like a benediction on my upturned face, and the running river sang a dirge. Had I been laboring under a spell? Had she really returned to me, or was it all a dream? What it was I know not. Only this, I was lost on Sandy Hook. Alone there on a desert shore, alone with my conscience. I remember I thought of my situation as likened to that of Robinson Crusoe, but my night was darker than any of Juan Fernandez, rendered doubly dark by the black wings of remorse that flapped about me. Dark as divine wrath was the blackness about, kneeling on the margin of the holes they have cut through the ice, and with one ■arm, bare nearly to the shoulder, thrust under the edge of the ice to spread the seine—thermometer from zero to 30 below—^ a novel and interesting sight to the tourist; that is, if he is well wrapped in a fur coat and has thick moccasins or “German socks” over his heavy boots. The lake in one place is almost cut in two by a sort of peninsula, with a spoon shaped extremity running out into the lake; and there the Indians in the “good old times used to make their great buffalo drive. Stampeded by mounted men, from a large section adjacent the animals fled to the lake and were gradually concentrated on this peninsula; the hunters then advanced by boat or along the land and shot them down at leisure. At length the white man broke in; the great Turtle mountain buffalo raids began; for seventy miles iii a line the prairie the next summer was a Golgotha—whitened with buffalo skeletons-—and old settlers till tell of the “big money” made by gathering their bones. In five short ears every buffalo was gone, and the Indians had to starve, fight or emigrate. They fought and were whipped: part emigrated and the rest are starving.—J. H. B. _ An Honest Car Cond actor. A prominent citizen of Union Hill boarded a street car in llol>oken and [landed Conductor Saucer a coin. Spencer felt tile milled edges, and, thinking it was a fifty cent piece, he put it in his >cket without examining it and returned forty-five cents change, which the other man quickly put in his pocket, A few minutes later the conductor wa a making change inside the car and discovered that the supposed fifty cent piece was a $10 gold piece. He put it back in his pocket and asked the Union Hill man the denomination of the coin he had given him. “It was a quarter,” the Union Iliff man said. ‘I gave you twenty cents more than you are entitled to." Spencer remarked, quietly. The Union Hill man laughed, but did not offer to return tile change. “I’m satisfied^ you are.” said Spencer. Nothing more Was said until the car reached the top or tho hill at Weehawken and the man had shown no sign of returning the twenty cents. Then Spencer said: “If you keep my change I’ll keep what you gave me and caff it square.” The Union Hill man put his hand in his pocket and exclaimed: “By Jove! I gave you a $10 gold piece.” “You did,” replied Spencer, “and you intended to swindle me out of twenty ents. Here’s your $10. but you don’t deserve to get it back." The prominent citizen pocketed the money and got off the car at the next corner.—New York Sun. J ast a Difference of Opinion. The artists are always finding fault, in every clime and country, with the work of the local “ hanging committee.** Never was an artist who did not claim, if any of his work was exhibited in an exhibition, that the unfortunate “hanging committee” had dwarfed his effort by hanging it in the worst possible place. At an exhibition in this city a certain artist had a work accepted and was requested by the hanging committee to visit the gallery and pick out his own place. He did so. When the exhibition was opened a fellow artist who visited it found fault with the place given one of his own paintings. “But I will not speak of my own work,” he said to the party to whom he was complaining. “Now there is  ’s picture over there. An idiot would have put it in a better place.” When he found out later that  had made his own selection of position he had nothing further to say.—Chicago Herald. _ From the German. Teacher—Can you mention a species of cold blooded animal which multiplies with astonishing rapidity? Son of a Journalist—Yes, the creditor. That's what jpa says.—Texas Siftings. A ■Lillias Compliment. A little absurdity about a compliment often gives it point. A Spanish lover is reported to have said to his mistress: “Lend me your eyes; I want to-night to kill a man.”—Chambers’ Journal. a thriving business and good prospects. Prohibition may still be found in Kan- J unillumined by star or lights far out at sas, leading its victims on down to the s 8€‘a» f°r the dwarf cedars hid both from prohibitionist’s grave. I saw quite a and had time to do a general real estate ’■ number of people who were just begin- * ning to fool with it, little thinking what a hold it would one day have on them. At Lawrence I visited the university, and wish especially to return thanks to Professor Snow, of Snow hall, for a delightful hour among his fossil batrachians and giant straddle bugs. He has a good I did not learn. business, watch repairing, lunch at all hours, saws set and filed, and also to furnish insurance and bulk oysters to one and alk Now it requires thirteen letter carriers to spread the mail. In 1872 The Wichita Eagle broke its shell, and with a shrill scream bought a new hand press and began the opinion I collection of Kansas people w ho flour molding business. The editor now OC-: ished at an early date and who made , cupies a luxuriant office, with rich tapes-1 footprints in the sands of time which • tries torn from the treasures of European 1 have been handed down to posterity in : princes. He lolls back on a Turkish the limestone of our day. He has the , divan in a beautiful suit of pajamas, ; lower jaw of a mammoth, with blue * while silent eunuchs from the east do porcelain teeth, which for many years . his bidding. On the walls are seen stood in the middle of a small stream, so costly paintings of Socrates, Plumb and . that when the water was low the boys other prominent Kansas men. A group used to stand on this monster's chin and j picture consisting of Messrs. Ingalls and • fish, little knowing what a treasure it Demosthenes hangs above the etruscan , would be to the savant and the scholar i fireplace. Costly works are seen on in future years. One day a sportsman every hand, and in rich bindings, side stopped to spit on his bait, and glancing by side, are the poems of Homer and down at the huge stone decided that it j Thomas Brower Peacock. There also was a bone. He got help to roll it over, j may be found the published speeches of and lo! it was the maxillary works of a I Cicero, the Thomas Ochiltree of his time. ; great, coarse beast that could eat a hard- ] Large etruscan tear jugs containing , ware store like a dish of oat meal and j Wichita chartreuse ornament the side- use the raging main for a finger bowl. board and natural bunches of seed cora j Paris reminded me very much of To-decorate the bust of a man whose name peka. Paris has the same wide, smooth streets, and is also a railroad center, though Mr. Peacock does not live there. Mr. Peacock, the poet, I mean. He is the author of this stanza: Swiftly, sorrowfully, then a sadness Fell on our raptured souls so light. That eftsoons nigh unto madness Led with melancholy blight. Eftsoons is one of our best words, I think; but Mr. Peacock would do better j with it in the east, where eftsoons and I gadzook poets get much better prices than in the west. Mr. Peacock gets some very flattering [ indorsements from other poets and the I press. | Matthew Arnold, in reply to a letter i and volume sent by Mr. Peacock, said, with great heartiness: “Yes, we have had an unusually hot J gummer in England this year. Still, } craps are looking well and fall plowing J will all be done at- least a week earlier than usual. Sincerely yours, “Matthew Arnold.” I Lord Tennyson writes as follows: **I would be glad to accept your kind Invitation to come and spend a few weeks at your house, but have agreed to jerk a few stanzas for the Guelph outfit and have already put it off too long.” Con-,    .    ,    tinning his letter, and in reference to the and hired men dig potatoes beneat © volume of poems sent him for criticism, THE ORIGINAL BUFFALO BILL’S HOUSE. And yet on this very spot, only a few years ago, it seems, the rank buffalo nodded in the wind and the early pioneer mother was kept busy pulling the arrows out of her loved ones. Is it not remarkable? Here, where now wealth and refinement just fairly jostle each other on the streets, and cable cars run clear out into the large farms, glare of electric lights, only a short time ago the early buckwheater, with his life in one hand and his scalp in the other, fled before the irritable red man Like hare before the beagle. Later still, at each end of the principal streets, it became necessary to put up the sign: Ck SH0QTINC;PR0H!BITED, INSIDE THESE LIMITS EaqrEnMi^. “It must be difficult for two mutes to understand each other?” “Oh, no; simply a mutual understanding.”—New York World. he 6aid, “I like the clean cut and rather earnest and honest work in your book, especially the job work and cover. I would like to figure with your publisher a little on a new book for this winter. Our folks are ail well here, though prices are low and live stock is looking tough and rocky, especially where the holler horn has went over the country like a large wet besom of wrath. Yours fraternally,    A.    Tennyson.” | Oscar Wilde says: “Mr. Peacock cer- * tainly writes with great vigor and spells | with considerable accuracy. He writes i with wonderful force and bears down so * hard on his subject that he wears out his | theme and gives a beautiful polish to tile I* under side of his sleeve.” Seriously, however, Mr. Peacock writes with much feeling, and some of his fey-I perbole and similes are as juicy as any-\ thing I ever sat down to. Most all the windows of the town were also shot out as a mark of disrespect. Finally a cowboy was secured red handed, who had beal in tile proofreading . and punctuating business, and tile peo-; pie made a cold sad disagreeable exam-; Wichita ie the lareeet city fa Kansas,! “Heres the place Tee been looking  “ said tor,” said che man with long hair and a The next day tile sign had been punctuated by cowboys as follows: me. Yet now and then there came floating in over the waters the sound of signal bells at sea, ringing out warnings to the wanderers of the deep. At last, worn out with exertion, I half tumbled upon what had been the spar of a lost ship. Placing my hand for support upon the sand at my side, it touched something. The knowing nerves of the hand telegraphed to my fevered brain what that something was. It was a human skull, the melancholy memorial of man’s mortality. Aghast, I threw it from me. The spot seemed accursed, and I rose and tottered on, human will prevailing over the weakness of the body As I mounted a big dune a cry of joy issued from my lips. There, like diamonds set in the ebon field of night, gleamed the twin lights, and beneath them in sable bank lay the everlasting Highlands. Endeavoring to keep those jewels ever in my view, I wandered on, but they, alas, were again lost behind the veil of cedar and sand. LOST 200 YEARS AGO. Recollections of the wrecks of other years came over me, and I thought wandered through a vast charnel house. Again I fell and my hand struck what seemed like the base of a shattered tombstone. Although I had never before visited that spot I knew that the shattered marble was erected in memory of a British frigate’s boat’s crew which, led by a young nobleman, was lost in the snow in the same place almost 200 years before. With sympathetic fin gers I traced out the graven words near the base of the stone, “Erected by his mother, Lady and there the legenc ended. But right roundly in that dark and lonesome spot I cursed the vandals who had desecrated that cemetery and destroyed that everlasting tribute of fond mother’s love. Somewhere near by knew from history lay the bones off several refugees killed soon after the retreat of the British from Monmouth, am uncertain that I found the place ol’ their burial, but quite near at hand found a section of human frontal bone which I carefully placed in an inner pocket of my peajacket. Again I wandered on crying for human aid until I entered a tiny grove. Suddenly a light blazed full in my face from the hastily opened door of a habitation and a rough voice exclaimed: “What’s the matter? Lost?” “Yes,” was the hesitating reply, for I half feared the place was a pirates' den. “This is the Hotel McGinty and I am Pierre Troutman, the proprietor. Way farers are welcome, and we still have a few rooms on the lower floors left. Come in, stranger, and welcome,” Too dazed to speak, I accepted the invitation and entered the Hotel McGinty which was a rude one story frame shanty perhaps 12x16 feet and lined with rows of crude bunks arranged as on sh in board. Troutman said that he and his men, who were all asleep, were saving that portion of the cargo of the wrecked bark Germania that had washed ashore on Sandy Hook. The Germania was wreckec at Long Branch, he said, on the night of Nov. 27. After a hearty meal, a friendly smoke a yarn or two and a song, the writer was tucked snugly in a lower berth to seek rest for his weary body and overwrought brain in a deep and refreshing sleep.— New York World It n™C*2    sombrero, ms he walked toto a store over about it Electric    which tang the sign “Men’s Fnnrish- togs.” “I’ve been into three shops that i-zspu-* jo-j    fa u not uncommon m see an easter    what rm ^ Gimme A ample toto returning »^*»«‘^ bUnkete, a leather belt, a ISitfa A Wea- Mg* S””"    son revolver and a plug of tobaooo.*- good Bused building kits.    d™. Kaons is said to to the un* «■“*** A Unique Newspaper. Lying on the desk of Mr. W. B. Somerville, in his cozy office in the big Western Union building, a reporter espied a very strange newspaper. At first it looked like a large piece of foolscap closely written, but upon closer examination it proved to l>e a real live newspaper written by hand. This unique newspaper is published at Prince Albert, a small hamlet in the center of the Canadian northwest territory, and is called The Prince Albert Critic. Its size is four pages, four columns to the page. The paper has a circulation of several hundred copies and is a specimen of what can be done by an enterprising journalist without a font of type. The mode of issuing it is rather peculiar. The matter, instead of being set in type, is written in ink with an electric pen on prepared paper, the rest of the issue being imprints of the original sheet. The paper is newsy for its size, contains quite a number of advertisements and is the official paper of the hamlet.—New York World. How to Make Good PMta. A transparent mucilage of great tenacity may be made by mixing rice flour with cold water and letting it simmer gently over the fire. Another way is to dissolve a teaspoonful of alum in a quart of water. When cold stir in as much flour as will give it the consistency of thick cream, carefully beating up all the lumps. Stir in half a teaspoonful of powdered rosin. Pour on the mixture a teacup of boiling water, stirring it well. When it becomes thick pour in an earth en vessel. Cover and keep in a cool place. When needed for use take a portion and soften it with warm water. It will last at least a year. If you wish to have a pleasant odor stir in a few* drops of oil of wintergreen or cloves.—New York Journal. Amusement*! ta Great Britain. In London the places of amusement number about 550 or 600, including 450 music halls. The capital invested in London plates of amusement is little short of $20,000,000, without reckoning places like the Crystal palace, Albert hall, etc. Direct employment is given to about 150,000 people, besides indirect employment to a host of tradesmen and workpeople. The London theatres, music halls and concert halls have accommodation for about half a million of sight se°r-». The capital invested in similar places of amusement in Great Britain is over $30,000,000. This gives direct employment to about 850,000 people and provides accommodation for nearly 1,250,000 spectators.—Chatter. Hard!J Courteous. During the epidemic of influenza in one of our cities a gentleman who was suffering acutely from it went down town one morning, and on the way met at least a dozen sympathetic friends. At the twelfth encounter his patience was exhausted. “Have you the prevalent cold?*’ inquired Ids twelfth assailant, a burly, good natured man. “Yes,” d£%i the invalid, captiously; “I have. Have you the prevalent sympathy?” The retort was hardly courteous, and tile man himself felt ashamed of it afterward, but at the moment it seemed to do him good.—Youth’s Companion. Devil’* Lake. Devil’s lake is a body of brackish water of uncertain size, according to tile weather, but covering about 200 square miles on an average, and having an outlet by a marshy stream to the Cheyenne river, only in wet seasons. Though the water is too saline for a stranger to drink it, yet it abounded with fish in its natural state; and even now, in the dead of winter^ one may see groups of wiry old squaws here and there on the ice (four feet thick at the least!) “working the dip seine” and bringing out at each haul two or three pickerel, which are thrown on the ice to freeze solid in a few minutes, after which they are handled like stones or billets of wood. To Bae Cha Door old creatures Eat More Fro it. Meat three times a day is more than average down town dwelling human nature can endure. Functional disturbances of the liver, gall stones, renal calculi, diseases of the kidneys, dyspepsia, headache, fits of ill temper or of the blues, irritability an I general absence of the joy of life are largely due to an excess of meat and other highly concentrated food. What shall we eat? We reply, <-at more food.—Medical Classics. It is believed that the use of smokeless powder by armies will result in rnak ing military operations much more difficult than they are now. The absence of smoke and the reduced noise of the detonations will scarcely allow of marching by the sound of the cannon. In order to get an idea of the situation on a battle field it will be necessary to examine it directly from some elevated pant A BLOM MARBLE. 8BEAT tUEIOSHY IE THE UMITEESITY OF PEKHSYIYAIH. The History of a Stone That Formed a Part of the Temple Inclosure at Jerusalem at the Time of Christ’s Birth—Copies for Colleges. Among the most valuable and interesting of recent additions to the University museum is the cast of a Greek inscription, discovered at Jerusalem some years ago. The University of Pennsylvania obtained possession of this cast, in connection with its Babylonian expedition, through tin* efforts of the Hon. O. 3. Strauss, formerly United States minister it Constantinople. The University of Rochester made an attempt to secure a aist of this inscription, and, by interesting ex-Secretary Bayard, permission was btained from the Imperial museum at Constantinople to have a cast of the riginal inscription made and forwarded. The cast, however, arri veil in such a roken condition that ir was practically worthless. Since then Professor Millington, of Roberts college, at Constantinople, and e\-Mim>ter Strauss have secured two additional casts for this country, one having gone to tin* University of Rochester and the oilier to Hie University of Penn-ylvania. The copy belonging to the University of Pennsylvania was badly broken in the transportation, but has been sufficiently mended to have new casts made. Harvard and Yale, as well as the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Mt. Atr\. and the Protestant Episcopal Divinity school, have applied for facsimiles of this cast for their libraries. HISTORY OF TUE INSCRIPTION. An interesting story is connected with tin* discovery of this inscription. On tho 26th cf May. 1871, the French explorer, Clermont-Ganneau, who spent many years in Jerusalem, and to whom the Louvre in Paris owes a number of its best specimens, was examining the partially ruinous walla of tile old Mohammedan school in Jerusalem, near the Via Dolorosa, about 159 feet north of tha Ha ram wall. The Frenchman, with the searching curiosity of an archeologist, was scrutinizing every stone that showed evidence of having b *en cut or chiseled >y human hands. While ho was thus encaged he noticed on a large block of stone, projecting a few inches above th# ground, several Greek letters. Early Greek inscriptions in Jerusalem are exceedingly rare, and, accordingly, he assured himself that no Mohammedan was watching him. and then proceeded to lay bare part of the stone. To excite no suspicion he did not remain very long, and before leaving filled in the earth about the stone as it had been before. The next day he returned with the proper implements, uncovered the stone and found that it was a block of marble, with an area of 3 by 2 feet, carefully chiseled and showing seven lines of a well preserved Greek inscription. The interpretation presented no difficulty, as tile characters were large and legible. The inscription read as follows: “No Gentile is to enter within the inclosure of the temple. Whosoever dia-obeys this rule will incur the penalty of death.” Ganneau immediately concluded that this stone must formerly have belonged to the Temple of Herod, and a few years before the birt Ii of Christ was part of a wall that formed an inclosure about the sacred fane of the Jews. Josephus relates that on tile southern and eastern sides of the Temple, parallel to the porticoes erected by Solomon and by Herod, there was a wall several feet high, in which, at certain intervals, there were Greek and Latin inscriptions, forbidding Gentiles to enter the court of the Temple. The workmanship aud tile size of the stone discovered by Ganneau correspond precisely with the description given by Josephus, and the peremptory style of the inscription leaves little room to doubt that Hie stone actually formed part of the wall surrounding the Temple. AN INTERESTING ILLUSTRATION. The prohibition inscribed on this.piec# of marble thousands of years ago forms in interesting commentary to the story related in the twenty-first chapter of the Acts of tin* Apostles,where it is said thaf the Jews of A ia stirred up all the peop’ against Paul because he “brought Gree also into the temple and hath poilu tiffs holy place. (lor they had seen fore with him in the city Trophimus, an Ephesian, whom they supposed that Paul had brought into the temple.) And all the city was moved, and the people ran together: ami they took Paul and drew lorn out of the temple: and forthwith the doors were shut.” The wrath of the Jews is much more learly understood and seems quite natural when w e see by this inscription how jealously they guarded the entrance into heir temple, and what a severe penalty they inflicted upon Gentiles for entering even the outer court or inclosure. Reference is made to tie* same feature in the second chapter of the Epistle to th# Ephesians, wb re Paul says that Christ is our peace, “who hath made both Gentiles and Jews) one, and hath broken down the middk* wall of partition,1* it was natural that the discovery of his interesting stone could not be kept lecret, and accordingly Ganneau made it known in a letter to The Athenaeum, and wrote a monograph on the meaning and historical value of the inscription. Bat when an attempt was made to secure the stone for the Louvre, at Paris, the possessor of the school house where it was found, under the impression, which is very prevalent in the east, that every archaeological object is worth an immense sum of money, demanded $10,000. When the Turkish governor of Jerusalem heard of the discovery of the stone he had it dug up and brought to his palace, when he himself offered it for sale at 110,000. But them was no buyer. Suddenly die stone disappeared, and no trace of it could bo found anywhere. When, tmf’-p-e:j vcur.-i after tiffs, Dr. Mordtmann, of Constantinople, a wed known Semitic scholar, was one day examining th# treasures in the Turkish museum, Tshi-ni!i Kiook, in Constantinople, he disco*-eml the lost stone, and published hi# discovery in the journal of the German •Palestini society ’(1884). I be original «torie is still kept in this museum, which is under the direction of the Turkish archaeologist, Hamdi Bey, who beearn# known several years ago by his give excavations of sarcophagi at S The cast which the universityJiaa tamed is in every particular a»~»»> fac-simile of the original. Phi m Ledger. Hibhart’f “Herb bx tract” mow aa* "AW ;