Indianapolis Journal, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 November 1884 — Page 10
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QUEER NA3TES FOR SHIT’S. Jawbreakers, Sweethearts* Names, Every Port, and Lords, Ladies and .Saints. New York Sun. “There are some queer notions expressed in ships' names/’ a young insurance clerk said, ■while standing on a South-street pier the other day, looking up at the fierce countenance of tbe figure-head of the Eastern Monarch, loading for Mel bourne. “My business has, in one way and another, brought a good many of them to my notice. Men who own ships have the same characteristics as others, probably, but they have a better opportunity to exhibit them to the world. For instance, there is the bark Ascensione, formerly the Resurrezione. She was built in Proseda. and is owned by Sig. Gala tola of Naples. The Immaculate Concezione is owned by Sig. de Maunza, of SestrL If you could see a parade of ships which bear such names of Queen of Scots, Centurion, Crusader, Mt. Carmel, Palestine and the saints of every name and degree of holiness, you would find the Italian red, white and green flag, with a white cross in the center, would lead all the rest, and the Spanish yellow and the French tricolor would follow. “The ships of the more vigorous seafaring nations show much less piety across their sterns. In New England, and in old England, for the matter of that, the young men who were in old times bom with weakly constitutions were educated for the ministry, and the young toughs were sent to sea. This seemed to have worked well for commerce. In America there grew up, one may say, a class of ships which bore the names of the Conqueror, the Challenge, the Sovereign of the Sons, the Persever ance, and the old favorite’, Dreaduauglit. There are ships afloat now of similar names, but they are reminiscences—named in memory of the merchant marine we once had. The pride and enterprise that once dictated the names of American ships seem to have departed forever. “One of the feelings which govern the naming of ships nowadays is the hope of gain by flatery. Without mentioning the fleets that have been named for men who were supposed to be moro or less able to put cargoes into the new hulls, you would be astonished, I think, to see the number of foreign Americas that haunt our ports. There are four foreign steamships, one foreign schooner, two foreign brigs, six foreign barks, and three foreign full-rigged ships with that name across their sterns. This does not include the Americans, the North Americas, and other variations of the same name. No other country can boast of as many foreign namesakes. India probably comes next in the list. Where patriotic feelings control the British, their British Empires, British Queens, Great Britains, and so on, take the lead. Hope of gain and love of home place the names of unnumbered towns and cities on vessels of every rig. There is not a settled port in the world that has not at least one vessel named for it, and many, like New York, have several. “Merchants of literary accomplishments or tastes name their ships Charles Dickens, Cutty Sark. Lord Macaulay, Don Quixote. Falstaff, Ivanhoe, and Don Juan. If their taste has a special bent to ancient history, they entwine a serpent among the golden letters of Cleopatra, or they call their ships llanuibal. or Leonidas, or Patrician. Others take to drama. The old Collins line of steamships grew' out of what was known as the Dramatic line of Liverpool packets, hut now the Fanny Davenport, the Prima Donna, the Rhea, and the Rialto are either plowing through the sea or are tied up along side of some dirty pier while sweaty ’longshoremen are histin' tiio cargo into 'em. “Ship captains are.astronomers through necessity, and, consequently, under the taffrails of no end of ships are Sunbeams, and Moonbeams, and Stars, and Comets, and the Pleiades, but no Nebula. There is a ship Borealis, however. Hero worship produced the Ericssons, the Farraguts. the Garibaldis, the Andrew Jack sous, but what produced the Rutherford B. Hayes is past finding out. The Garfield is a Liverpool ship launched in I&S2, but probably named when her keel was laid the year before, when President Garfield had just died. This brings into consideration contemporaneous history. The Volunteers were launched frequently during the recent war of the rebellion, and the Loyal was another popular name. This cause named the Balaklava and the Gettysburg, blit it was no doubt an unprejudiced love of pluck that named the Thermopylae. A Quaker probably owned thr Peacemaker. “If there was not a genuine love of the sea in the breasts of many men the American foreign marine would have long since wholly disappeared. Lindsay in his history speaks of the pride which shipowners take in their ships their business. Some own the Flying 'Cloud, the Spiay, the Wave, the Cutwater, the Revolving Light, the Foam, tho Mermaid and the Sea Serpent. Some men who are of a romantic turn have named their ships Gloaming and Charmer. Akin to these are the names Minnehaha, Hiawatha. Border Chief. Iroquois, Mohawk and Red Jacket. The geographical names are plenty, and usually appropriate. The oceans, gulfs, bays, capes, rivers, lakes, etc., are all represented. The lords, ladies, marquises, and clans of Great Britain, and the counts, princes and princesses, are freely remembered. The one. feature of American ships is influence of home on the names. The mothers, wives and and sweethearts of New England have traveled in name from tne ice of the North to the ice of the South, and have crossed every sea and entered every inlet and anchored in every harbor of the world. Nearly one-half of the American sailiug vessels bear the name of women. There is no name in the female catalogue that has not graced a ship. It was Senator Frye. I think, when speaking on that section of the Dingley bill which permits owners to enroll or register vossels as hailing from the port where owned, who said that his constituents, from the love they had for their ships, cared more for that section of the bill than all the rest put together. When the young captain conducts his new ship, bearing the name of his sweetheart, out of port, he is prouder than the Czar of Russia, and he has a right to be. “Why any one should name his ship after that miserable little beast the cheetah is past finding out, unless he was a naturalist. That hope springs eternal in the human breast is shown by thenumoerof Bonanzas afloat. In marked con trust is the ship Reporter. The OJaf Trygvason is a cheerful name, but what, may be said of the Clackmacuddin, the Erling Skjalgsen, and the Khimjec Oodowiee is more than I can tell.”
Lotto's Queer Present. Philadelphia letter. I was talking with Lottayesterday. She is worth quite a million, and expects to make a hundred thousand more this season. Her health is superb just now. She tells me that she keeps herself in good trim by rigorously observing j;ll the hygienic principles. She eats sparingly, and goes in like a soldier for exercise. She never fails to take a tramp of four or five miles ever fair day. 9xcept Sunday. She usually walks in the most fashionable streets, for the reason, as she says, that the diversions to be found in them occupy her mind and relieve her from the consciousness of going through a routine duty. However that may be. she herself is an interesting diversion to tne other promenaders on the fashionable thoroughfares. Her face and figure are well kuown to everybody. I was amused a few days sgo by seeing her going down Chestnut street with a light, swinging step. Nearly everybody turned round to look at her, and after she had gone a few blocks a crowd of admiring shophoys to whom her face was familiar were frotting at her heels. She carries with her in her travels a portable horizontal bar that she has put up in her room on rainy days. Long practice has made her wonderfully clover on the bar. and she can vault and swing with the best of the circus performers that I have ever seen. She talks enthusiastically of her success in England. 1 confess that I thought she had made a failure there, but of course 1 Btand corrected. As an evidence of the appreciation of her foreign audiences she shows visitors a curious pres ent that she received in London from a friend of her family, an old British campaigner who had spent many years in India. It is a slylooking, trained monkey. She says that when It was gNen to her with the officer's compliments she was horrified. She would not touch the hairy creature, arid sent it to the kitchen as a first step toward banishing it for ever. Her feelings of repugnance changed by degrees, however, and she has now grown to like tk** little rogue so much that she would not part with it for a sealskin sacque. It is an uncommonly intelligent and well-trained creature. It bows its head rn thanks for favors, dances the slide, makes a sound that Lotta calls monkey fltnsdng. and will take the cards of and accompany visiters to the door when directed. Its name is Chin Chow. It sleeps in a little downy
bed. and will eat almost anything that may be given it, but it shows an intense love for caramels. A MIND DISEASED. What a Homeopathic Physician Proposes to Do for the Human Passions. Ualignanis Messenger. A physician of the homeopathic school at Lyons professes, seriously, to have discovered a remedy for human passions —those moral diseases, such as envy, hatred, malice, anger, jeal ousy, obstinacy, avarice, etc., which render so many homes unhappy. In,a pamphlet, to show “how homeopathy may improve the character of man and develop his intelligence," he gives some wonderful instances of the cures alleged to have been effected by his special treatment, which he declares to be infallible. In one case a suspicious, jealous and violent husband, who had ill-treated his wife for a period of sixteen years, was cured, unconsciously to himself, by a few globules of nux vomica dropped quietly into his broth, and his wife was soon delighted to hear him humming some operatic airs and addressing her as “cherie,” “ma poupoule, ” etc. After a few days’ experience of this regime the terrible Barthold was transformed into the tenderest of husbands. By a skillful alternation of other medicaments a rascaliy husband was coireefed of his inherent faults and willful outbursts of anger. A miserly father, on being subjected to a few doses of calcarea carbonica, gave his consent to his daughter's marriage, which he had previously resisted. By this same medicine, varied in its preparation, a young student, who was backward in mathematics, was enabled to master the science without further study. The calcarea carbonica, it will be noted, cured a miser and a dolt — both suffering from the tyranny of sums and figures. The Lyons physician has an antidote for everything—nux vomica for jealousy, sulphur for drunkenness, salicea for obstinacy, arsenicum album for malice, and belladonna for imbecility. Those patients who do not happen to be laboring under these infirmities, and for whom the remedies just mentioned might bo prescribed for other ailments, will probably protest against their use. But unhappy partners, who believe in the efficacy of this latest application of the science of" homeopathy, may he tempted to resort to it as a means of avoidiug a divorce, and certain husbands invoke its aid against their mothers-in law. A Marvelous Stream. “Acrosa the Pampas and the And'-s.” At a distance of thirty miles south of the river Diamante our route passed by a natural object of considerable interest—a stream, or rather rill, of yellowish white fluid like petroleum issuing from the mountain side at a considerable height, and trickling down the slope till lost in the porous soil of the valley below. The source from which it flowed was at the junction, where a hard metamorphic rock, interspersed with small crystals of agnite, overlay a stratum of volcanic tufa. It was formed like" the crater of a volcano, and full of black, bituminous matter, hot and sticky, which could be stirred up to the depth of about eighteen inches. Floundering in it was a polecat or skunk (Mephitis variansl. having been enticed to its fate by the desire of securing a bird caught in the . natural bird-lime, till a bullet from the revolver of one of the party terminated the skunk’s struggles to extricate itself from the warm and adhesive hath in which it was hopelessly captive. The overflow from this fountain was. as described, like a stream of petroleum two or three feet wide trickling over a bed of pitch, or some other substance, which extended to a much greater width along the edge of the running stream at its contact with it. This material was of a very sticky nature, becoming gradually harder as it spread further out assuming the appearance of asphalt when it became mingled with the loose sand of the adjoining soil. While engaged in examining this natural curiosity, we came upon two small birds, caught in the sticky substance at the edge of the stream; they were still alive, but upon releasing them both the feathers and the skin came oft where they had come in contact with the bituminous matter, so that we had to kill them to put ail end to their sufferings. No doubt, they had been taken in by the appearance of water which the stream presented, and had alighted to drink, when they discovered their mistake too late. Their fate suggested the idea that in a district so devoid of water others of the feathered tribes must constantly become victims to the same delusion in a similar manner, and upon a close inspection of the margin of the stream the correctness of this inference was established by the discovery of numerous skeletons of birds imbedded in it; nor were those of small quadrupeds unrepresented, among which we recognized the remains of a fox.
Elephantine Intelligence. Chambers’s Journal. On one occasion I arranged with a mahout to bring up his elephant to where I was standing, that I might indicate the work to be done, tho mahout to be absolutely silent. Standing ly a six-foot log, I beckoned to the mahout, and up '••.me the elephant Arrived at the spot, and being without chains, he must have opined that dragging was not intended. There remained, then, pushing or carrying, the latter operation being the one which the sagacious creature saw was intended, for he proceded at once with his awkward preparations for carrying it away. Throughout this test the mahout was absolutely silent, and. as far as I could see, Quite passive. The result of it was that the elephant divined what I, a stranger, wished it to do. and did it. On another occasion, I applied the test to a difficult object, an eighteen-inch cube of teak, which the dear old fellow at once arranged to carry off; but how to do it, he could not a first determine. As his tusks diverged more than eighteen inches, they were no support, and the many sharp corners of the cube sorely tried the delicate trunk. After some failures, he managed to seiz the fragment by the center, and then raise it up below the tusks against his lower lip. As he had virtually accomplished the task. I discontinued the experiment, expressing my satisfaction and delight to the manager, who somewhat dampened my arderby informing me that the mahout, while abstaining from use of voice or stick, might have conveyed his wishes to tho elephant by pressure with his heels. But a moment's reflection increased my admiration for the elephants intelligence, for, allowing that the mahout’s heels had pressed his side, how could such pressure inform him that he was neither to drag nor push, but carry? Surely the mahout could have possessed a code of pressure signals with which he bad indoctrinated the elephant in prospect of curious visitors. If he had, then it must have included voice and stick signaling as well, to either of which I might have resorted. No; I believe that the elephaut acted independently of signals, and reasoned on what was laid before it. The Man with Glass Legs. Detroit Timed. “Hallucination!” said Dr. Jeuks. “Knew a man once who thought his legs were made of glass. Lived down East. An old, wealthy, dyspeptic bachelor. I think the idea about his legs was the result of dyspepsia, but 1 was quite a boy at the time. Anyway, the old boy was so afraid of having his legs broken that he cried out when anyone approached the bed. There was an old doctor within tho vicinity who was half mad himself, and this old fellow determined to cure him. One day he called and asked the old man to come out for a drive. Os course tho old fellow was horrified, but the doctor insisted, and he at last consented to go. A bed was made up in the doctor's conveyance and the dyspeptic carried out and tenderly laid in it They drove off and about, until over a hill a little distance off they saw the stage coming. “Then the doctor, by a dexterous twist of the lines, overturned the buggy and tumbled the old man out into the middle of the road. Os course he cried out that ho was done for, but the doctor righted his buggy and drove off, leaving him squirming in the middle of the road, and quite unable to move, owing to his glass legs, Suddenly he was alarmed by a shout, and saw the stage come tearing down the slope, heading straight for him. lie gesticulated, but the doctor had fixed things with the driver and the stage came right along. Well, the old fellow stood it until the stage was only a few feet away. Then he tmtiped up arid ran—ran clean back to town—and was never bothered with glass legs again.” Brown’s Bronokial Troches For Coughs and Colds: “I do not see how it is possible for a public man to be himself in winter without this admirable aid.” —Kev. It. AL Deveus, Pooasset, Moss.
TIIE INDIANAPOLIS JOURNAL, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 1831.
IN A Mill BATH. Exhilarating Effect of tlie Imported Article on a Reporter. Cincinnati Timcs-Star. “So you want a mud bath?” “Yes, sir, that’s what I want,” replied a reporter to Superintendent McDougall, of the Cincinnati Mud Bath Company. “Well, then, step in. my friend," said he, as he led tho way into the bath-house. This institution is a novelty in that city; in fact, a novelty anywhere outside of Las Vegas, N. M., of whose natural mud baths it is an exact copy. Tho idea of establishing them here was conceived by Dr. O. E. Davis. While performing a surgical operation he had the misfortune to make a slight cut in his hand with the scalpel he was using. Blood poisoning set in, and alter trying every available means of cure, he determined to try the mud baths of Las Vegas. They proved an entire success, saving his life. He then conceived the idea of starting a bath-house here, and in furtherance of the scheme he analysed the mud and determined the medic-ants found in it. Taking nut a patent for the process of making the baths, he at once started to complete the present bath-house. The reporter entered a neat waiting-room while the bath was being prepared. In a few moments he was ushered into a dressing room, where he was told to divest himself of his clothes. This was done. The attendant led the way into the bath-room, a large room with a zinc covered floor, heated 1o a temperature of eightv-five degrees A number of bath-tubs were arranged in the room, and were filled with a substance that reminded the reporter of thick molasses. Mr. McDougall seized a flexible hose with a beut nozzle about three feet long, and. giving a signal to an attendant, who turned a cock aumitting a flow of steam into the hose, he inserted the pipe into the liquid mud. With a sound like distant thunder, the mud bubbled, and boiled, and leaped into the air like mad. “All ready, sir: step in.” “What, step into that and got scalded?" demanded the scribe. “Oh, no! Get my clothes; I've got enough. “But it ain't very warm,” assured Mr. McDougall; “see?" and he plunged his arm into the dark-looking mass anu stirred it around. The reporter cast a dubious eye on the “hot molasses," and finally ventured in his foot and then the other, and finished by lying down in the tub, with the exception of keeping his head above water —or. rather, mud. The sensation experienced was most pleasant, in fact, luxurious. and to the scribe it felt as it did to the overjoyed stranger in Las Vegas, who, as he lay in the mud, exclaimed: “Oh. Lordy, I feel as though I've got on a suit of silk plush underwear, and the plush side turned in—and 1 owned Deacon Green's farm, and I'm chuck full of whisky, and I'm married to Zeke White’s Nancy," and, and—glory! Whoopee! Let me die where I am!” A mirror was brought the reporter and a view given of himself. Nothing would be a better comparison thau that of a fly caught in the molasses pitcher. After remaining suspended in the mire for over a half an hour —suspended, because the density of the mud does not cause the body to sihk much below the surface—the reporter was hauled out, looking like an African with a Caucasian head, and placed in a zinc-lined closet. The attendant seized a hose and turned a stream of lukewarm water on him, followed by a shower, thoroughly cleansing him of the bath material. Then, without his knowledge or consent, and decidedly against his will, he was suddenly doused with cold water that caused him to howl like a Comanche and to think of the suffering Greely party. “Step this way,” said tlie attendant, leading the way to the drying room. “Ugh, you villain, all right,” answered the shivering scribe as his teeth played a march. The attendant seized a Turkish, towel and rubbed him until a lobster would look white alongside of his skin. Wrapping a linen sheet abount his manly form, he was laid on a coc for a few minutes to prepare hiraseif for the massage process. Sausage would be more fitting, for a sausage machine, even in a delirium, would never have acted as did the massage operator. He grasped the reporter's arm and tied it into a bow-knot, pulled it and untied it, and then formed a running noose and again pulled. Seizing him by the leg he dislocated his hip. and reaching down did tho same kind offices for both his knees. He then twisted them back into shape again. “Lie perfectly still,” said he; “after I get through with your muscles I'll put ’em back where I found them.” Cheerful intelligence. He then administered a vigorous thumping to the meek scribe, who bore bis castigation like a martyr, for the sake of finding out how he did it. After this onesided. prize fight was over, the smiling brute pleasantly said, “All over, sir.” The much-abused reporter stepped to the floor and found, to his astonishment, that he only weighed six ounces; at least that was his impression. An insane desire to fly and soar above the clouds entered what was left of his mind, and he wanted to shout “Hallelujah" so bad that he almost burst a blood-vessel in trying to keep still. “Put on your clothes,” said the attendant. “I don't want any,” replied the crazy pencilpusher, who was finally induced to enter his garments. It is certainly the most luxurious sensation that can be felt. Tongue or pen cannot describe it. The mud used is alluvial earth, or, as it is commonly called, black mud. It is obtained at Madisonville, 0., and brought to the bath-house, where it undergoes a crushing and kneading process, after which it is medicated and kept in a huge trough for further use. The temperature of the baths vary from 102 to 115 degrees, the bath-room air at 85 to 90, the drying-room 75 to 80, and the waiting room at only 70. The air in the massage-room is kept at 275 Fahrenheit, at least the scribe thought so.
HOW TAILORS SIZE US UP, How Clergymen, Doctors, Lawyers, Actors and Politicians Array Themselves. New York Star. “There are always certain classes of men who have styles of their own. They pay little attention to the latest fashion, except to modify them into the direction of their own ideas. This habit, sir,” said tho tailor, with dignity, “I regard as the consummate flower of a high civilization. It gives tho individual a marked character. It distinguishes him from the herd. To the civilian his garments are as much an evidence of the calling—to one who can read the signs—as his uniform to a soldier or his livery to a footman. There are clergymen, for instance. Who can mistake one, even though he doesn’t affect the clerical cut, winch he ought to, by tho by? I cut for a number of prelates, and I tell you, sir. they have got to wear a coat with a straight collar and a vest that buttons around the neck —Church of England costume, sir, or uone at all, from my establishment.” “But how,” inquired tho reporter, “are you to distinguish the doctor and the lawyer?” “Only a novice would ask that question. Physicians in good practice—and, of course, I have none other among my customers —are the most particular of men. Take a Madison-aveuuo practitioner as an example—and he’s the ideal doctor for you! Largo, stout, not to say a trifle flabby, and wearing a belt, carries himself well, great dignity, immense pomp! lie dresses always in fine black diagonals, with rich, black korsoy top coat, and aiJ tnust fit him without a wrinkle. Sometimes he indulges in a fancy cashmere vest, and the big bunch of seals he dangles at his fob sets off tho neatest stomach to fit in the world. Id hat, gloves, and boots, he is unexceptional and extravagant. His scarfs a*e the richest, his linen and cambric the finest. He wears three diamond studs —no other jewelry but the seals. Well, sir, he’s an impressive spectacle; rich, neat, elegant, finished, and more pleasing to the eyes of a rich woman than hothouse flowers. “But lawyers—pshaw! They’re the worst dressers in the world if they amount to anything. Want something black, and take the first goods that come to hand. Never want anew suit till their old one gets disgracefully shabby or falls to pieces entirely. Boots generally look well, for they like warm feet, and pay big prices. But hats!—shocking! Tho worst tilos in this town are partially distributed on the heads of our most eminent lawyers. You can hardly got them to come here and try on a suit, but must send it on tho chance of fitting. They’ll always take it, don't care how it looks if it goos on easily. But, bless* you, that isn’t what a true artist wants. Big lawyers have paid me high prices for suits that when 1 saw them on them sent a shiver through mo. Such garments would give any establishment but mine a bad name. “Another Class who dress characteristically,” continued the tailor, garrulously, “are men of business. They want a dozen coats and as many trousers and waistcoats and the like, in muHi-
tudes, after the latest fashion. Yet your true man of fashion is no dude. He is never pionounced, and never has on shining new clothes. It's the general effect—the elegance that comes only with long experience or a careful valet—that shows, and its what tho mere dude can never catch on to. The dudes and all the noodles who merely copy the most extravagant fashions, while they arc our best paying customers, don't compel our admiration. It’s the man who knows his style and dresses up to it who is the true dresser. “Os course, even you can always recognize the sporting man. Lie is a species with divers classes. The racing man dresses differently from the yachting man. The dog fancier has salient peculiarities, unlike thoa-e of the horse fancier, and the mere gambler, who looks on sports of all sorts as simply opportunities for book making, has a style of his own. But they differentiate in little things—trinkets, linen and the like. They arc all fond of high colors and unique patterns. Their abundant jewelry is apt to be in the form of pugs* heads or racing insignia. Most have a weakness for bell crowned hats, yellow stitched gloves and pointed shoes. Their canes remind you of the neck and head of a stork, with the long bill on the top. They are a knowing crowd, mostly, but about dress they're as innocent as babies. “Closely allied to sporting men are actors — frffm a tailor’s point of view. But there’s a wide difference, essentially. The sporting man wants to dazzle you; the actor to impress and overcome you. The sporting man will distribute his magnificence all over him; the actor relies on some such concentrated effect as a sealskin coat or a low-cut shirt collar and wide-brimmed hat. He wants his clothes cut, not to fit him, but. to drape him, and ho arranges himself in attitudes favorable to classic folds. Actors are liberal customers when they have monej. But politicians stand high with us. They are the fellows for new clothes! They want everything sleek and shiny, spick-and-span and brand new. They are the best tailors’ blocks, too, and afford more pleasure to a true artist's eye than the merely elegant fellow who distracts attention from his clothes to himself.” Old-Fashioned I’ot-Pic. Leeds Mercury. The old fashioned pot-pie was cooked by tho gentle heat of a moderate fire in an old-fashioned, round-bottomed dinner pot. Line with suet crust, and make tho crust as follows: Remove all skin and membrane from a pound of beef suet, and chop it fine; add to it a pound and a half of flour, two level teaspoonfuls of sale, and a level salt spoonful of pepper, and wet it with just enough cold water to form a medium soft dough, which can be rolled out about one inch thick. Handle the crust as little as possible, and uso it as directed in the preceding recipe. This quantity of crust will inclose about four pounds of moat, and make a pot-pie for five or six people. The meat, if at all tough, is first partly cooked in only water enough to prevent burning, all its gravy being carefully preserved. The dinner-pot is greased and lined with an unbroken piece of crust, the meat placed in it, with abundant, seasoning and very little gravy, or a few spoonfuls of cold water if the meat was uncooked: then the upper edges of the crust were slightly wet with cold water, and drawn together. and pressed in such a way as to prevent the escape of gravy. The cover of the pot is greased on the inside, and put over the pot-pie, and it is then cooked by a moderately hot fire three or four hours, or until the crust is browned. Great care must be taken not to burn the crust; and in dishing the pot pie all tho gravy is preserved. With our modern cooking apparatus it may be difficult to cook a pot pie of this kind without danger of burning, but it can be done with care. It certainly is a very delicious dish, and very nourishing, because all the goodness of the meat is preserved. Usually no potatoes are added to it while cooking.
Folly and Flowers. Boston Letter in Hartford Post. The tribute of flowers on mortuary or nuptial occasions is so common and profuse that they smother sentiment often out of sight, and are actually offensive to good taste. A sentiment is touched by either event, and flowers are the embodiment of grief or joy. The modest and beautiful bouquet that was deemed sufficient in former times is superseded by floral displays rivaling a floricultural exhibition, and incongruous piles of devices, hardly regarded apd perhaps not known save in the reports of the gentlemen of the press, crowd the mourners or the mated with such profusion that it becomes a puzzle what to do with them. It is the fashion to do it, and florists are taxed to produce original pieces, not so much to express respectful or more tender grief, but for the sake of getting up something new. At funerals is this excess most manifest, and whole carriages are at times devoted to bearing to the grave the various lyres, baskets, pillows, broken shafts, gates ajar, and what not, that are but half seen through the mourner’s tears, and subject to the curious, who speculate on their cost and criticise their construction or appropriateness. Tho latter criticism often obtains where designs are sent that have little or no relevancy in their meaning, as was the case some time since, where a spectator said, regarding the floral tributes for one who had led a life that would, not have met the approval of the angels: “Why, the designs were elegant, and among the rest was a beautiful gate ajar that was very graceful.” A modest old lady, who had heard the eulogium of the flowers, and knew the party honored, replied: “Which gate?” How the Moon May Bring the Earth to a Standstill. Harper’s Weekly. The tides are caused mainly by the moon, as it were, catching hold of the water as the earth revolves around on its axis. This must cause friction on the earth as it revolves, and friction, as every one knows, causes loss of power. There is reason to suppose that the action of the tides is slowly but surely lessening the speed of tho earth's rotation, and consequently increasing the length of the day, and that this action will continue until the earth revolves on its own axis in the same time that the moon takes to re volve round the earth. Then the day, instead of being twenty-four hours as now, will be about twenty-eight days, and the earth will be exposed to the full blaze of the sun for about fourteen days at a time. The change this will bring about on the face of the earth can hardly be exaggerated. All life, both animal and vegetable, will be destroyed; all water will be evaporated; the solid rocks will be scorched and cracked, snd tho whole world reduced to a dreary and barren wilderness. It is supposed by some that the moon has already passed through ail this, hence its shattered and bare-lcoking surface. That the earth, being so much larger, has more quickly acted upon the oceans which once were upon tne moon’s surface and stopped almost entirely its revolution round its own axis, thus causing it to have a day equal to tweuty-eight of our days, and the heat of the sun has already done to it what in future ages it will do to the earth. Left-Handed Men Wanted. Milwaukee Sentinel. “Is there a left handed barber in this shop?” asked a man as he walked into a tonsorial esttf' ffiment on Grand avenue early in the week. *• We have one. Take a chair.” A reporter watched the strange customer as the left-handed knight of the brush scraped lus chin, but could not discover anything different from the manipulation of a right-handed man, but there was, just the same, and hero it is: “You see,” said the boss barber, “when a man is shaved all the time by a nglit-handed barber tho beard is pushed over toward the right, and when it grows out it looks like a lop-sided mop. The left-handed barber counteracts this tendency and the roots are directed in the way they should go. A left handed barber is anew wrinkle, but he is a good thing to have iu the house.” Yesterday two blacksmiths were conversing in a south side saloon on the relative abilities of two helpers. “Jim is a good enough man, but he can’t use his left hand.’’ “You iee,’’ said the speaker in response to the reporter s query, “blacksmiths’ helpers have to stand on both sides of a forge, and while one strikes right handed the other hits with bis left. If a man can't hit straight with his left he’s no good.” —— Rupture, Breach or Hernia, Neglected, often becomes strangulated and proves fatal. Wo employ anew raethed and guarantee a cure in every case or no pay. Send two letter stamps for pamphlet and references. World’s Dispensary Medical Association, GO3 Main street, Buffalo, N. Y.
SOME FASHION HINTS. Fielms of bright crimson velvet are worn with black dresses with good effect. Olive green, with pale lavender, is anew Parisian combination in millinery. The newest skirts remind one of an umbrella case, with a lot of drapery attached to tho back of it Bonnets of black lace in Escurial or Spanish designs over foundations of satin will be worn all winter. Folds inside of French dross sleeves and collars seem to rival the frills so long used. Tliey are made of silk muslin or of crepe lisse. For a matron a 1 lack velvet bodice, richly embroidered or beaded, with skirt and tunic of black satin trimmed to correspond, is very handsome. Avery handsome suit of ecru cloth, with the sides of dark brown velvet, and the front of still darker brown velvet brocaded in peacock feather. Black lace drosses look well on brunettes, made up of thread or of gilted net, in combination with black satin and pale yellow velvet, garnitured with yellow roses. A pretty effect in a ruffle trimming is to make narrow ruffles very full, catching them up at equal distance with narrow ribbous, which fail in long, narrow loops and ends. Cufis and collars come in jetted laces, covering velvet. The cuffs are worn outside of the sleeves; the collars have a stiff lining and have ends of satin ribbon with which to tie them. The corsage this season may be plain or full, basqued or pointed, round waist or princess shape; it may have a plastron or vest, or it may be a jacket, or cuirass: for each and every form is alike in favor. Instead of hair cushions and pads, the best modistes are using pleatings of haircloth or buckram set in with the foundation skirt at the back of the waistband. These are far less heavy thau tho hair pads formerly used, while they hold the dress out more effectually. A convenient form of collarette for any one who dislikes anything but the high collar effect is to lrnvu a standing collar made of velvet, over which is laid lace insertion. It has a plaiting of lace along its edge. The revers are also laid on velvet and have a jabot down the iuside edge of each. The pretty colored silesias and Italian cloths, used for lining gentlemen's clothing, have been adopted for* ladies’ dresses by dress makers, and the carefully finished inside of the garment, with the seams bound with silk tape, and the silk feather stitching down the fronts, is almost as attractive looking as the right side. People who have an, overabundance of color should adopt gray. There is no hue which so mercifully subdue’s a florid complexion. By the same reason pale fa*es should studioysly avoid the contiguity of any shade of pearl or gray, since it is apt to give a ghastly tinge to a colorless complexion. With a rosy blonde it is a success. Independence in Dress. New York Evening Post. The number of women who make, design, or at least superintend the making of their own dresses according to their own particular style and taste —governed, of course, in a degree by prevailing modes—is no doubt to-day much larger than it ever was since fashion ruled the world. This is certainly a token of wider culture in the best sense of the term, and a sign of a finer appreciation of what is fit and becoming in individual cases, leaving current rules and set decrees of fashion to be utilized or not. to be re ceived or rejected, when and where it is deemed best. The ridicule and opposition from those who blindly follow wherever fashion leads seem rather to stimulate than dampen the ardor of women who in the matter of dress and its adornings dare to be independent, and free, and are inflexibly bent on being so. This is no new example of a woman’s will. During the reign of the coal-scuttle bonnet and the amplitude of crinoline there were found scores of women who wore head coverings of pimple style, and fol lowed modes of dress in which the natural and graceful lines of beauty were preserved without doing any violence to really good taste, while at the same time serving as a decided protest against the prevalent ungainly fashions of the period. _
Gloves Worn When in Full Dress. New York Truth. The long glove for dress occasions, reaching almost to tho shoulder and above the elbow, is an almost necessary adjunct to the sleeveless gowns now* so fashionable for full dress. It is a pretty fashion —just a knot of ribbon tied almost at tho shoulder, and tho glove nearly meeting it There are an indescribable piquancy and artistic simplicity in this style for maidens fair particularly that make us revolt against long sleeves and short gloves. Then there is a certain shade of yellow kid thal is always pretty and desirable, especially for more matronly ladies, and looking very well with black velvet and diamonds. Gentlemen affect this color also, and the contrast w ith the dress suit is pleasing. Yellow, like white, is open to the imputation of making the hand look large; but the shade must be delicate, or at once they become conspicuous. It is hardly worth while to go into the merits of the castor or fleece-lined gloves for winter wear. Many persons prefer a kid glove all winter, and find them sufficiently warm; others, with cold hands, must have a thick glove to be comfortable. The Decollete Dresses. New York Herald. Before many days have passed tho appearance of the decollete dress will be conspicuous in the interest of the buds wiio are being introduced into society. There are many forcible objections to this style of dress being worn by all women, and there are also strong reasons why it should be abolished altogether. However appropriate it may seem in the ball-room, exceptions to it have often been taken with good effect. But as long as fashion favors a dress which exhibits the neck and shoulders of women without restraint and their backs nearly to their waists, and while there are modistes to make such gowns the dress will meet with popular favor until fashion prescribes some other form of ball-room attire. It is only necessary to look around a ball-room to see the many pitiable sights that are presented thoro of women with frail figures, bony neck? and shoulders and unmistakable “saltcellars” appearing in decollete gowns, while exhibiting at the same time their want of the necessary physical qualifications to set off a dress of this* character. Women follow the dictates of fashion with too much zeal and they sacrifice their personal appearance to the fashion plate. How much prettier it would be to see them dress as becomes them, than to so strongly adhere to Conventionalism. Chloral and Bromide of Potassium. London Lancet. Again we have to record with deep regret a sad proof that those who give or take chloral or bromide of potassium for sleeplessness are guilty of a deplorable error and do a grievious wrong. Tho narcotics which poison sleep also deprave the highest norve centers, enfeeble the controlling powers of the will and leave the mind a prey to the depressing influence of a conscious loss of self respect and self-confidence. The cultured mind feels the ignoray of the intellectual and moral depreciation with great acuteness, and in the end succumbs to the sense of powerlessness to recover self-control and do right. The deprivation wrought is purely physical. The baneful influence of the lethal-drug is, so to say, organic. The essential elements of tho nerve tissues arc blighted by the stupefying poison. as by alcohol in habitual drunkenness. In short, the recourse to chloral and bromide is precisely the same thing as recourse to alcohol. The man or woman sent to “sleep” —the mocking semblance of physiological rest—by a dose of either of these narcotizers is simply intoxicated. No wonder that habitual drunkenness of this class first impairs and then destroys the vitality of the mind-organ, and places the subject of a miserable artifice at the mercy of his emotional nature, and makes him the creature of his passions. When will the public awake to tho recognition of facts with regard to those most pernicious of stupefacients? Persistence in recourse to them has no better excuse than unwillingness to search out the cause of the “wakefulness” which prevents natural sleep. Dr. Price’s Cream Baking Powder has been the leading baking powder for years. It has trained its popularity from its being the most perfect baking powder made. It is prepared from pure, refined materials. For purity, strength and healthfillness, it stands alone. Its perlect excellence will ever be fully maintained.
RAILWAY TIME-TABLE. [TRAINS RUN DY CENTRAL STANDARD TIM3.] Trains m*rk*Ml thus, r. c., reclinin? chair car; thus, s., sleeper; thus, p.. par or car: tuns, h.. hotel car. Bee-Line, C., C., C. & Indianapolis. Depart—Accommodation 4:00 am New York and Boston Express, daily s G:ls am Dayton. Columbus and New York Express, c. c ..10:10am Anderson and Michigan Express .. 10:50 am Wabash and Muncie Express. 5:25 ma New York and Boston, daily s.. c. c. 7:15 pm BRIGHT WOOD DIVISION. Daily 4:00 am 2:20 pm Daily 6:15 am 3:30 pm Daily 10:10 am 5:25 pm Daily 11:15 am 7.15 pm Arrive—Louisville. New Orleans and St. Louis Exp.e s, daily 0:40 am Wabash, Ft. Wayne and Muncie Express 10:35 am Benton Harbor and Anderson Express..... 2:00 pm Boston. Indianapolis ami Southern Express 5:50 pm £<ow York and St. Louis Express. daily 10:35 pm Chicago, St. Louis & Pittsburg. Depart—New York. Philadelphia. Washington, Baltimore and Pittsburg Express, daily, a 4:25 am Dayton and Columbus Express, except Sunday. 10:45 am Richmond Accommodation 4:00 pm New York, Philadelphia, Washington, Baltimore and Pittsburg Express. daily, s.. h 4:55 pm Dayton Express, except Sunday— 4:55 pm Arrive—Richmond Accommodation, except Sunday 9:40 \m New, York, Philadelphia. Washington. Baltimore and Pittsburg Express, daily 11:37 am Columbus and Dayton Express, except Sunday. 4:35 pm New York. Philadelphia. Washington. Baltimore and Pittsbnrg ExSress, daily 10:20 pm 'ayton Express, daily, excopt Sunday 10:20 pm CHICAGO DIVISION VIA KOKOMO, P.. C. A ST. L. R.‘ R. Depart—Louisville and Chicago Express. p. c 11:15 am Louisville and Chicago Fast Express. daily, s 11:00 pm Arrive—Chicago and Louisville Fast Express, daily, s 3:59 am Chicago and Louisville Express, p. c 3:35 nm Jeffersonville, Madison & Indianapolis. Depart—Southern Express, daily, s 4:10 am Louiaville and Madison Express.... 8:15 am Louisville and Madison Mail, p. c.. 3:50 pin Louisville Express, daily 6:4,5 pm Arrive—lndianapolis and Madison Mail 9:45 am Indianapolis. St. Louis and Chicago Express, daily, p. 10:45 am New \*ork and Northern Fast Express, r. c . 7:00 pra St. Louis, Chicago and Detroit Fast Line, daily, s 10:45 pra Cincinnati, Indianapolis. St. Louis & Chicago. CINCINNATI DIVISION. Depart—Cincinnati and Florida Fast Line, daily, s. and c. c 4:00 am Cincinnati. Rushville and Columbus Accommodation 10:45 am Cincinnati and Louisville Mail. p. c. 3:15 pra Cincinnati Accommodation, daily . 0:40 pm Arrive—lndianapolis Accommodation, daily 11:05 am Chicago and St. Louis Mail. p. c... 11:50 am Indianapolis Accommodation 6:20 pm Chicago, and St. Louis Fast Line, daily, s. and c. c 10:15 pm CHICAGO DIVISION. Depart—Chicago and Rock Island Express.. 7:10 am Chicago Fast Mail, p. c 12:10 pm Western Express 5:10 pra Chicago, Peoria and Burlington Fast Line, daily, s., r. c 11:20 p.n Arrive—Cincinnati Fast Line, daily, c. c. ands 3:35 am Lafayette Accommodation 10. 10 ain Cincinnati and Louisville Mail, p. c. 3:30 pm Cincinnati Accommodation 6:25 urn
Vancialia Line. Depart—Mail Train 7:15 am Day Express, daily, p.. h 1.1:55 am Terie Haute Accommodation 4:00 pm Pacific Express, daily, 5... 10:45 pin Arrive—New York Express, daily 3:50 am Indianapolis Mail and Accora 10:00 am Cincinnati and Louisville Fast Line 3:30 pm New York Express, daily, h 4:4.0pm Wabash, St. Louis & Pacific. Depart—Detroit and Chicago Mail 7:15 am Toledo, Fort Wayne. Grand Rapids and Michigan Express 2:15 pm Detroit Express, daily, s 7:00 pm Detroit through coach on C., St. L. & P. Express 11:00 ora Arrive—Detroit Express, daily, s 8:00 am Pacific Express 11:30 am Detroit and Chicago Mail 8:55 pm Detroit through coach on C., St. L. & P. Express 4:00 am Indiana, Bloomington & Western. PHOBIA DIVISION. Depart—Pacific Express and Mail 7:3oam Kansas and Texas East Line. r. c.. 5:05 pm Burlington and Rock Island Express. daily, r. c. ands 11:10 pm Arrive—Eastern and Southern Express, daily, r. c. ands 3:50 am Cincinnati Special, r. c 11:15 am Atlantic Express and Mail 0:15 pm ST. LOUIS DIVISION. Depart—Moorefield Accommodation 0:30 am Mail and Day Express 8:05 am Night Express, daily, r. c 11:05 pm Arrive—Night Express, daily, r. c. 3:55 am Mail and Day Express 0:00 pm Moorefield Accommodation C: 10 pin EASTERN DIVISION. Depart—Eastern Express Mail, daily, s., r. c. 4:20 am Day Express 11:45 am Atlantic Express, r. c 0:45 pin Arrive—Pacific Express, r. c 7:00 a u Western Express 4:45 pm Burlington and Rock Island Express, daily, s. and r. c 10:35 pm Indianapolis & St. Louis. Depart—Day Express, daily, c. c 7:10 am Paris Express 3:50 pm Boston and J>t. Louis Express, p... 6:25 pm New York and St. Louis Express, daily, s. and e. c 10:55 pm Arrive—New York and Boston Express, daily, c. c (3=oo am Local Passenger, p 0:50 am Indianapolis Express 3:15 pin Day Express, c. c., daily 6.25 pm Cincinnati, Hamilton & Indianapolis. Depart—Cincinnati, Dayton & Toledo 4:00 am Cincinnati, Dayton, Toledo and New York 10:50 am Connersville Accommodation 4:30 pm Cincinnati, Dayton, Toledo and New York Express 6:40 pm Arrive —Connersville Accommodation 8:30 am Cincinnati. Peoria and St. Louis.. .11:50 am Cincinnati Accommodation 5:00 pm Cincinnati, Peoria and St. Louis... 10:40 pra Indianapolis & Vincennes. Depart—Mail and Cairo Express 8:15 am Vincennes Accommodation 4:00 pra Arrive—Vincennes Accommodation. ... 10:10 am Mail and Cairo Express 6:30 pm Cincinnati, Wabash & Michigan Railway. (Over the Bee-line.) Depart—lndianapolis and Grand Itupids Ex. 4:00 am Michigan Express 10:50 am Louisville and Wabash Express... 5:25 pm Ai’rive—Wabash and Indianapolis Express.. 10:35 am Cincinnati and Louisville Express. 2:00 pm Indianapolis and at. Louis Express. 10:35 pm Louisville, New Albany & Chicago. (Michigan and Grand Rapids Line.) Depart—Michigan and Grand Rapids Ex 12:01 pm Monon Accommodation 5:00 pm Arrive—Monon Accommodation 10:00 am Michigan and Grand Rapids Ex 11:45 pm MANUFACTURER. THIS PINT,ST AND MOST nPR.'vTLE MADE. RIGGS HOUSE, WASHINGTON. D. C., Fifteenth and G Streets. First class ftfid replete in all it3 appointment* ii situated opposite the United States Treasury Buildings. and in the immediate neighborhood of the President’s Mansion, the State, War and Navy Departments. Stroet Cars to and from Depots, Capitol, and all Departments, pas* the nouse every three minutes during the day. The honor of your patronage earnestly solicited. C. W. BPOFFURD, Proprietor.
