Indianapolis Journal, Indianapolis, Marion County, 17 February 1889 — Page 5

THE INDIANAPOLIS JOURNAL, SUNDAY, FEBRUARY. 17, 1889-TWELVE PAGES.

5

CUMBELLE'SSUNDAYTALK

A Great Social Sensation Prevented by the Timidity of Persia's Koyal Ruler. A Hotherlj-Looiiiiff Old Woman Who Was Interested in Pnjilistic News The Gown Worn bj Miss Hargous at the Costume Rill. Special to ths Indianapolis Journal. Xew York, Feb. 16. Tho Payson Greenes are in society.' Otherwise I would -write of thein as the family of Mr. Tayson Greene, or merely as the Greenes. But it is a new custom to speak of every swell household as tho John Browns, the William Smiths, and like that. The Parson Greenes ar fashionable and respectable, and there isn't a word of any sort to say against them. Bat they hare provided a hit of news for this letter, and 60 must be named in print. They are closely related to tho official representatives of Persia in Washington and this city, and from that source learned earlier than anybody clso at a distance that tho Shah of Persia had decided to make a visit to Europe in the 6pring. The Payson Greenes conceived that it would be a delightful thing to bring this Eastern potentate to America as their guest. They made overtures in a formal and proper way, and for a time were encouraged to expect' a successful issue; but they have just now received a communication from the private secretary of the Bhah through a deviously official process. The invitation is declined with thanks, but in a phraseology Indicating that nis Oriental Mightiness really had a notion of crossing the ocean. 1 have seen tho royal missive in the original, and also in an English translation. But it is from another source, equally trustworthy, that I get the chief reason why the Shah will not come to America, even under a disguising name and semblance. It is that he mis- , trusts the people of any republic, and deems himself in danger as soon as he goes beyond the boundaries of monarchical countries. It is only after much hesitation that he has concluded to venture into republican France. He has arranged to arrive in Pari3 in May, but the person, who tells me of it thinLs that he may give up that portion of his tour even yet. wSothe Pa3'6on Greenes will not spring a live Shah upon society. Forced to look nearer home for objects of social interest, I find one in the handsome, motherly-looking matron next to whom I rode a hundred miles in a palace-car one day this week. Who can help guessing at the character of fellow-travelers? I made out this - lady to be a gentle, churchly woman, and rather expected her to chide on account of the trivial novel that I was reading, but presently she took np the morning's newspaper and turned to the page of sporting news. She did not shift her shocked eyes from that part of the journal on discovering what it was. My wonder increased as I discerned that she was actually reading the matter that it wasn't hase-ball that she was perusing, nor even athletic games, but it was a column of gossip about the prize-fighters. No displeasure vas expressed in her face. On the contrary, she beamed upon the print with unmistakable interest. This seemed phenomenal, and I called my companion's attention to it He was a resident of Troy, N. Y., a nd he said: "That is the widow of John Morrissey, the famous pugilist and gambler. She is now residing in Troy, where she was born and where she married Morrissey. Does she deplore her late husband's career? Isn't her perusal of prize-fight news sufficient answer? No, she is quite as amiable and charitable as she looks, but she has always teen a sport herself and remains 60 in disposition if not in practice. She was the daughter of a steamboat captain, and a decided beauty. She married 31 orrissey early in his fame as a pugilist, and incited and encouraged him to stay in the ring. I remember well how she used to teach their boy, when he was a baby, to put up his little fists in fighting style, and it is vivid in my memory, too, that she knocked out a feminine neighbor on at least one occasion.. Yes, the widow of John Morrissey reads every line of prize-fighting news that she comes across, Dut alwavs with a supreme contempt for the men whom she regards as degenerate successors of her husband." Mrs. Ballington Booth looks less like a coinmandingly religious woman, for she lacks portliness; but nobody doubts her sincere activity as the practical head of the Salvation Army in this country, and she is just now carrying her warfare with all her might into fashionable precincts. She is holding afternoon conversations with all the society leaders she can get a chance at, and is trying to interest them in her work. Our ladies are too busy just now with the final dancing: of the season to lend their ears to Mrs, Booth, but when Lent nuts a stop to festivities they will, I think, pay considerable heed to her, and I shouldn't wonder if a sort of crusade by modish women among the benighted poor ensued. Meanwhile Mrs. Booth has Just decided a question of a both practical and comical character. The Salvation lassies, you know, are accustomed to parody all the popular songs of tho day, using the tunes as they find them, and either replacing or modifying the verses for revival purposes. Has "Razzle-dazzle" reached your ears? It is a bacchanalian ditty, originally sung by three roisteriug inebriates in a farce at a Broadway theater. Its refrain, "razzledazzle, razzle-dazzle," is slang for a hilarious and dilapidated condition of drunkenness. The song is introduced in several other places, at all tho variety theaters, and is whistled and hummed all around town. A trio of Brooklyn Salvation lassies got up pious rhymes for the tune, but retained the razzle-dazzle chorus, and what they wanted to know of Mrs. Booth is whether ihey could sing it at their meetings, with an imitation of the manner in which it is given on the stage that is, marching recklessly to and fro, locked arms, and with gestures of jollity. Mrs. Boot li thought it over and decided to le t them do i t Miss May Brady is the famous New York belle who reigued almost supreme last season, and lately married $0,000,000 in the person of Albert Stevens. Before that, as tho daughter of a Supreme Court judge, 6hehad lived in moderato luxury, and had figured in the Astor-Vanderbilt set, but had lacked the money with -which to greatly exploit her loveliness. Two years aeo she was taken to Europe by Mrs. Hitchcock, an influential matron, and she made what we shall have to call a big hit at Nice and tho other cities of the Riviera. he was called the beautiful American, and was idolizingly ad"mired. Now, with millions at her command, what do you suppose she has done? The answer should be easy. Instead of staying to participate in the sociability of New York, sae has gone back to her European domain, established herself in temporary but complete magnificence at Nice, and now her equipages, toilets and environment combine with her beauty to dazzle the people anew. Miss Sallie Hargous was recently described in this correspondence as the present season's crowned queen of beauty in New York. She is an ingenious girl, and she proved it at the costume ball, since "which event her dress has been more discussed in her circle than any other hundred seen on that occasion. The gown itself was not exactly so remarkable as the gossip about it would lead one to suppose. It was. of course, a very stunning thing, as its material old rose hrocade embroidered with gold and an under dress of moss green was bound to make it. The fact that it was copied from a figure in that famous painting of "Charles V'a Entrv into Antwerp." might lead people to believe that it have clothes on, aud Miss Hargous had her dress modeled after one of these. !f it had orcural to her to Lave a tablea u of the entire scene presented iutheAeademy of Design that night it would have been the greatest vision of original beauty this community has ever been treated to. Z looking over Hans Makaifa glorious

group of white-limbed, snowy-hipped women, however. Miss Hareous found a gown, and this she wore in the quadrilles. The costume that attracted the greatest amount of attention was a robe of crinkly pink material that was worthy of Alma Taderaa. the draper of Mary Anderson's classical shape. It was on a tall, lithe, agilo girl and showed the lines of her figure as plainly as if it weio spun of cobwebs. This sleazy style of dress had many similar repetitions in the ball, but there was no other girl inside of one carved so deliciously as this sweet maid, therefore no other was so constantly stared at. At this great and continnally-talked-aoout ball in the Academy of Design there wasono thing especially noticeable. .Tho artists and their wives were an entirely separate element from tho blending mass of society people. The artists stood about in little groups, discing seldomly, and evidently feeling tha they were being regarded as canaille. Of course, all the "real people" knew one another, and they recognized the outsiders immediately. This oppo dtion of set rendered the affair awkward and stift" from beginning to end. All the beauty of the occasion was for the eye. In a visual sense it was one of the most exquisite things ever exposed in New York. The foundation of the building.its gorgeous decorations of tapestries, antique carvings arid silk hangings, tegether with the lines oi water-color pictures crowded along the walls, made a sight so entirely line that it could only be compared with a garden of the gods. The ellect of the rooms as they were at 12 o'clock thronged with people was most bewildering. It was quite impossible to detach a particular costome from the immense splash of color for special examination. But I noticed that many of the young girls favored the soft and gauzy Greek gown. In fact, this was doubtless the most popular costume at the fete. I believe that this was so because there is nothing that can be worn, except tights, that will show the lines of the feminine figure as will, the clinging drapery of the Greek maiden. It flows like swiris of mist in among tho limbs and curves of tho girl, and when &he is delicately formed tho effect is entrancing. . I happened to be in the rooms of a wellknown costunier's establishment when a conversation took place which .contains some interest. A sprightly young woman entered, and, after bowing a greeting, inquired of the proprietor of the establishment how much he would charge to make a certain costume for Mrs. James Brown Potter. When the name of Mrs. Potter was mentioned the costumer became angry. "You will pardon me," h said to the young woman who had brought the inquiry, "if I compel you to take back to Mrs. Potter a very decided and harsh message. Please tell her that she cannot have any clothes made in my establishment. Last spring she made me agree to set aside certain weeks of this season to get np her production here. Then she went to Pans and brought her clothes home with her. She can't get a dress made

by me for any price." Imagine the young man of modern times returning such a message as that to the Queen of Egypt. The costumer then resumed his talk with tho manager of another prominent actress who insisted that her bill must be cut down about one hundred per cent, before it would bo paitL Talking about legal redress against beautiful actresses the costumer said afterward that they could win any suit brought against them. "They go down to court," he said, "spread tho smell of violets all around them, smile, and cry, and flirt, and that settles it. They get a verdict on their shapes." The Liederkranz ball was somewhat quieter than usual this year. There was just as big a crowd, just as gorgeous tableaux, and as much champagne drunk, but the whole thing came to a close tamely, and the men went about next day telling of how stupid it all was. The Liederkranz was one of the swellest affairs of the season a few winters ago, but gradually it began to resemble the French ball in its abandoned style of action toward the small hours, and the elegant people who had been accustomed to attend soon dropped away. As a remedy for this the management appears to have instilled into the spirit of the affair an authoritative example of being eminently decent, and so a commonplace picture is prodnced without the old swell mob to look at it. But one incident that I witnessed at the Liederkranz is good enough to relate. In one of the baignoir boxes sat a woman alone.. Sho was completely enveloped in black lace, so that to say what she looked like was impossible. Yet there was something about her pose and her silent mystery of lonesomeness. All the men, as they passed the box, would look up, but there was not a movement of consciousness on the part of the woman in black. I stood behind a group of loungers, and regarded the solitary figure to see what she was really there for. Presently a man came sauntering by with an air of indifference and fatigue, looked sneer in gly up at the boxes as he went along, eeemingly despising the entire affair. He was a peculiarly handsome young fellow, with a tall, strong figure, and finejnghbred features. He paused when his eye caught the figure in black np in the box. He took a convenient position and watched. The tired look left his face. He was interested. I looked at him and then at the woman. She had seeu him, and was moving just a little for the first timo since I had discovered her. The young man had his eyes fixed on her, and was very bright now. I knew precisely what his thoughts were. Here wa3 a romantic figure; but suppose he should investigate and uncover a scarecrow. Ho had only the graceful outlines of a woman for a promise. The figure in black had guessed his thoughts as soon as I did. The scene began to bo charming. The woman raised her arm, as though by accident; her lace shroud dropped back and revealed the proof of youth. It was a round, tapering, white arm, and the hand was as delicate as a flower. The young man still watched. Tho woman let her hand fall to her throat and slowly drew the lace aside. A diamond star shone out from marble-like perfection. The young man started forward, and then settled back again, as though still unconvinced. The woman in the box seemed to understand; She lifted, with a movement almost maddening in its slowness, the lace of her mantle, fold by fold, away from the lower part of her face. I was as breathless as the young man sha was doing it for. There was a flash of light that was dazzling, and a mouth like a rosebud, a chin of lily purity, shone for one instant through the gloom of the head-dress. The youug man dashed off the floor and in another moment was sitting in the box with the woman in black. I hadn't seen her eyes. I hope for the sake of the young man that they proved to be worthy accompaniments of such a peerless arm, neck and mouth. Clara Belle. A SOUVENIR OF 1841. ailss Brown lias a Chair Which She Worked for William Ilenry Ilarrlsou. Washington Tost. Iii the spacions parlors of the old-fashioned house at No. 229 New Jersey avenue southeast, is seen an antique and. striking souvenir of the brief administration of President William Henry Harrison. This relic is in the shape of a rocking chair, the upholstered portion of which was worked by Miss Anna Stewart Brown, who now Frizes the piece of furniture very highly, t was the original intention to present the chair to President Harrison, and he had been consulted in regard to the matter, but expressed a wish that the presentation be deferred until after the crowds that had been attracted by the inauguration ceremonies had returned to their homes. But. as is well known, before this much-der.ired period arrived President Harrison died and the chair remained the property of Miss Brown. Only a few days before the General's death the chair was returned from the upholsterer's, and Maj. D. B. French,, a gentleman who was quite prominent in Masonic circles at that time, had been selected to make the presentation speech. A reporter saw the chair last night at Miss Brown's home. On the back is worked this inscription: "Presented to Gen. William Henry Harrison by Anna Stewart Brown 1841." The materials of which the back and seat are worked were very costly at that time, and Miss lirOwn states tbat sh had an offer of &i00 in gold for the chair from a New Vork admirer of General Harrisou, which she declined. Miss Brown is the daughter ol the late Robert Brown, who at one time was quite a prominent contractor in the District. Evolution of a Great Reformer. Chicago Tribune. Foreign Government (kicking idle prowler off the premises) Get out! Idlc.J,r?wler iith dignity) I go, sir! lou will hear of me in America as & xt lormer of the framework of society!

OLIVE TH0RXFS BIRD-ROOM

An Hour in the Workshop of a Diligent Student of Animated Nature. Living on Familiar Terms with Catbirds and Jays, Kobins, Grossbeaks and Orioles The Feathered Folks Secret. Special Correspondence Indiana polls Journal. New York, Feb. 15. In these days of inquiry into the literary habits of writers Olivo Thorne Miller's bird-room ought to find description. From time to time tho Atlantic, Harper's Magazine, tho Cosmopolitan, Harper's Bazaar contains one of her graceful, gently humorous, lovingly and truthfully traced bird sketches, and one day when they are collected into volumes like "Bird Ways' and Tn Nesting Timo'' the world suddenly wakens to the fact that one of the most charming of modern nature students is a woman. Thorean observed the shy. wild things of the woods from his hat by Walden pond. Burroughs looks out on the open-air world from an up-Hudson farm. Roo studied among the strawberry beds in his garden. Like Hamilton Gibson, tho nature artist, Olive Thorne Miller goes to tho heart of nature in summer, but shuts herself up in winter in Brooklyn town. fcihe shuts the birds in with her, and her bird-room is the most interesting apartment that over a city house held. In it tho little folks in feathers disport themselves almost in freedom. It is her study, at times her sleeping-room, but robins run up and down the Boor in fashion as saucy and chipper as if they were picking up worms in the pastureland after a June rain. A bold blue-jay trails the ink over the paper while she writes, and the notes that she's lotting cover every movement of the 6hy bluebird preening himself in the sunshine, 6ecnre in the belief that her back is turned, while all the time her eyes are fixed on his reflection in the mirror in her hand. Birds splash in the bath dishes; birds dart and t tumble and play tricks in tho air. There are cages, wire cages, mind you, not wood, hanging at the windows. The door of every cage Is open. From every cage door leads a perch projecting six inches or more into the room. There are perches crossing each window. There are Serenes from tho gas fixtures to the winows. There are perches in every convenient spot in the room. In front of one of the windows stands a table covered with a rubber spread. On the table are one or two perches and a row of tin pie-plates, painted a dull brown color and roughened by having gravel sprinkled upon them before the paint was dry. These are tho bath pans. They are full of water, and a delightful beach picnic the birds are having in them. There is matting on tho lloor in lieu of a carpet. This is a study and bedroom, you remember, and must bo furnished fornuruan as well as feathered occupation. Matting can be washed, and does not hold dust enough to give Mrs. Miller's little winged friends the asthma. There are. shades at the windows, but no lace curtains for claws to catch in, tangling up small toes. There is no upholstery, but plenty of wooden and rattan chairs. There is no embroidery, no knicknacks, nothing for inquisitive beaks to pick.at and injure, but there is a bookcase or two with cloths laid over the rows of volumes, plainly furnished dressing table, everything simple, but sufficient, pretty, not in the least bare. Under the more frequented perches are spread newspapers, and. curiously enough, the bird population keeps to these, and. Mrs. Miller says, seldom soils anything in the room. In a far corner well out of their way for the bird student does not believe in overtaming the wild creatures stands Mrs. Miller's writing desk. On a stand by its side is a pile of note books, each lettered with the name of one of the birds. Bird tragedies and comedies, bird loves and bird griefs, every phase of bird life and experience is being enacted, and day by day the woman who watches it all is writing each bird's diary, making a library of bird biography. 'I give np.my mornings to them," she says. "Often I bring other work into the bird-room to do, but in the end I am absorbed in the bird drama." "Where do your birds come from!" "I buy them at the bird stores. I never had a bird shot or caught for me. After I have studied them during the winter, I let them loose, if they are able to support themselves in the spring." "If they can support themselves!" Yes, a bird that has been caged above a year is too thoroughly accustomed to being waited upon to earn its own living. My birds are all American birds and seldom or never born in a cage, but many lose the desire for freedom in spite of that. It is very easy to tell whether or not a bird wishes to go. If it pines for the sky and air it spends its days on the window-sash looking out, and rufiles its feathers into a sullen, sulky, disconsolate ball when in its cage. I remember once freeing a woodpecker. It llew to a tree trunk and began drilling. Good-bye, dear,' I said, 'it's almost like parting from a child to let you go, bnt you're all right, you remember how to find insects.' Some birds become so used to cages that they do not even care for the freedom of a room, but remain persistently behind the bars no matter how long the door remains open. They have enough to eat and get all the exercise they care for hopping from one perch to another. Bnt this is not true of the more intelligent birds." "Are there differences in birds' brains?" "Yes, indeed. My birds become to me as marked in their individualities as so many human beings. And they difter as much in character. One bird is selfish where another is kind. One ro"biu looks on the bright side of things, while its mate is decidedly Eessimistic. People have not begun to give irds proper credit for their intelligence. When a dog fawns upon yon and wags his tail he almost talks. A bird is not so demonstrative in its evidences of sense or a flection, but the tokens are there, if you have eyes for them. It may be a new note in the song, or just a llutteror tremor of the wings. Why, I have sat on the porch in summer and seen all soits of bright doings among the birds, which nobody about me had tho least inkling of, because they didn't catch the cues, couldn't understand bird language." "Which is the most intelligent of our common birds!" "Probably, I think, the catbird or the jay. The jay is terribly misunderstood and maligned. Everybody is giving him a bad name. Bnt 1 kept one at one time in my bird-room, and he never, in the course of a whole winter, offered to molest one of the other birds. He knew every member of the family, and had a different greeting for each. When I came home after an absence he knew me and gave unmistakable evidence of joy. Some little time after I called at a bird store and found the dealer putting a jay into a large race with a number of small birds.' He did it with some hesitation, and I was curious at my next visit to ask the result. Had the jay killed his little companions! ne had never shown anything but good will to them. I can't see why human beings who rob birds of their eggs or young without compunction, who think nothing of committing robbery or murder so long as it is directed against what they call inferior beings, should be so severe in their moral strictures on the blue jay because now and then he eats an egg when he's hungry." "How many birds do you have in your bird-room familjT' "I do not care to keep more than ten or twelve, and that number includes several pairs. I prefer not to have more than five or six species at a time. That simplifies the winter's stndy. When I have learned to know a bird in confinement, tmderstandits notes and any peculiarities in its habits, then I aim to study the 6ame species free." "Are the birds natural and unconstrained enough in their behavior in the bird-room so that yon can study them in their normal frame of mind!" "They soon come to be. I never let them become unpleasantly conscious that I am watching them. And I never try to tame them. If they make friends with me, that's another thing. I do not oiler advances. Of course I do not wish them to be afraid of me, but beyond that I try to go about my own business, so that thev 6hall cease to notice me and go about theirs." A snatch ot a tune made one look up to see which bird had learned to whistle. "That is a bird I am keeping for a friend. I do not like to have birds taught artificial notes. That one is perpetually showing off his accomplishments when I am present, and . it is only when X am, in tho next room

and he cannot see me that I hear his natural ! sofig." i . "ilow came you so much interested in J birds!" "A friend from the West was visiting me eight or nine years ago, who had a good deal of knowledge of ornithology. She watched the bints in Prospect Park, and beforo I knew it I found myself watching them too. For years I spent day after day in the wilder portions of the park, operaS lass in hand, noting their ways from uner the trees. Early in the morning I would start, taking my lunch with me, and sometimes I was there, making notes or waiting to see a little play ended, until tho birds had tucked their heads undertheir wings at sundown. The park was my aviary until it was overrun by boys." "You still spend your summers studying birds in the woodsp "Yes, when I can tell by a bird's note whether he is in the dumps or in jocund framoof mind then is the time to observe him in his natural home. At nesting time I have my scouts out. Boys bring me word where the birds are building, and I can look on at courtship and love and the soberer family affairs. I went to North Carolina at one time to see the mocking bird through the mating season." "Conldyon give any directions for tho care of birds!" "It would be easy to compile a manual of 'doutv,' after tho etiquette book fashion. I passed a house yesterday with a bird cage covered to the very top with lace or muslin hanging in the window. How would you like that if you were a bird? No chance to 6ee anything, no chance to breathe. The meshes of the fabric become clogged with dust or other matters and a bird's health must suffer from lack of ventilation." "Doesn't it take a long time to care for a bird-room!" "At least an hour and a half every morning. Every water-cup and food dish must be washed in hot suds, the seed dishes must be filled, the perches must be washed in suds, the trays in the bottoms of the cages taken out, emptied of their gravel, washed, wiped dry, provided with clean gravel and put back again. I use wire cages only. and. in addition to the suds bath, I scald the perches occasionally and clean with carbolic acid. That keeps off vermin effectually. I never allow a cage from a bird store to come into my house. Perhaps it is impossible to keep birds clean in stores: at any rate thev are apt to be in wretched condition. Then the dealer will put one into a pasteboard box or a paper parcel, where the poor thing, used to perching, finds it hard to stand on the flat surface, and gets' frightened or injured. When I want to buy a bird I take mv own birdbasket with me. It is specially fitted with perches and little conveniences for bringing the traveler home comfortably. "By the way, do you know that one of the bird's greatests pests is the mosquito! I do not know how the bird protects itself out of doors living in mosquito-haunted woods, or whether under natural conditions it is not pestered; but in the house if it is annoyed in the night it flutters its wings and makes such a cominotioD of protest that I cannot sleep until it is attended to. The birds are shut into their cages before dark, or rather they go in of their own accord, just as chickens go home to roost at nightfall. Before the windows are opened for fresh air in the sleeping room every cage is covered with a shawl or a piece or flannel to keep them warm. It is not a bad plan to darken the windows very carefully, or in spite of their hoods there will be a chorus of chirps and peepings showing that the birds are up and would like to be doing long before it suits you to, acknowledge that day has begun. "Of course in an aviary or any room used for no purpose but bird-keeping the birds can spend the night on their favorite perches and cages need not be introduced at all" "Is there no difficulty about getting food to keep a roomful of birds in health!" "There, is very little trouble with the seed-eaters. Birds which need the soft food or mocking bird food sometimes make a little less fuss at first about taking it; but tho greatest difflcnitv is the indiscretion of bird-owners. There are birds so delicate that a bit of fresh biscuit will kill them, and yet people will give their pets hot bread, cake or candies." Mrs. Miller has had pets other than birds. During the early part of this winter she had a curious marmoset domiciled on her sitting-room mantle. Some time ago she made a familiar friend of a lemur and before that of a South American kinkajou. The bird-room, as I have described it, was an

institution of last winter and the winter before that, and very probable of the winter after this. Just at present she is so busy with pressing literary work that she is keeping fewer birds than usual. Her literary habits are interesting. She likes to be at her desk earlv and to write without interruption until lunch time. She may take pen and paper again in the afternoon, but the afternoon usually and the evening always belongs to her family. Like Helen Jackson, who never penned a line for publication until she was a mature woman at tho zenith of her powers; like Mary Mapes Dodge, who did not write until she was looking for an absorbing occupation after the death of her husband; like Margaret Deland, who astonished her friends with the sudden success of "John Ward, Preacher.". Olive Thorne did not send out her first volume until she had some experience of life and its ways. She was ambitious as a girl, ambitious as a young woman, but her babies filled her arms with other pleasant cares, and it was not until she reached the leisure of a mother whose little ones are growing fast into big ones that she delighted the children of thousands of other mothers with "Little Folks in Fur and Feathers," a perfect book of its kind. For eight or ten years now her children's books have beencoming out. "Queer Pets at Marcy's," "Little People of Asia," and kindred charming volumes. Her later work has been almost exclusively bird studies for tho children's elders, though she has a venture in a totally different direction, a history of Delaware, for D. Lothrop Company's "Stories of the States" series on tho stocks this winter. Personally Olive Thorne impresses one first of all as a woman of healthy mind. There is a rare and sweet sanity looking out of her countenance. Vigor is what strikes you next. She has the mental soundness and heartiness of one who looks much on nature and whose ears listen to voices out of doors. She is tall, has bright eyes that lead you to expect a fund of kindly humor and a quantity of hair turning slightly gray. Sho is no pessimist, her face tells you that. You could not offend her more deeply than by1 calling her a society woman, but at the woman's clubs and in literary gatherings no circle is complete without her. Thorcau, Burroughs, Gilbert White and others of that deliirhtful line, older and younger, are her favorite reading, and her own books are worthy companions of theirs on tho students' shelves. For those to whom whatever a woman may do is emptiness and folly unless sho can alw sew shirts, and make pies. .Mrs. Miller is the presiding genius in a charming home and possesses that crown of a woman's accomplishments, a thorough knowledge of housekeeping. Her husband, Mr. T. Y atts Miller, is a well-known Wallstreet business man. Eliza Putnam IIeaton. The Case ot Joseph A. Moore. To the Editor ot the Indianapolis Journal; The case of Joseph A. Moore, his financial collapse and disgrace, should not be permitted to pass from the minds of Indianapolis people without a lesson being learned therefrom , a lesson that will do the city much good, especially the circles in which he moved, and perhaps save others from the same end. I have read much in the newspapers of late concerning the "teas," "receptions," "parties," etc., of Indianapolis society people, how gay and joyous the winter is being passed, and what a happy time is being experienced by the "upper crust." "Teas" and "receptions" follow so closely upon each other that not even the ever-alert ' newspapers can keep track of them. I ask you, Mr. Editor, what is the meaning of all this giddy whirl, this senselsss expenditure of time, vital energy and money! What is the object to be gained! Is there any good to come from it! I do not think any of your people will claim larger results than a mere desire or ambition to "shine" in society, to pose as members of the "elect" set, and to show others how elegant, and hospitable, and gracious they may be! No right-minded, well balanced, or well-bred people, will ..be guilty of such utter nonsense. LKk back over the htoryof the past and note the failures and disgraces that have come, not only to single men who have lived beyond their means, but to untold thousands who have wives, and daughters, and eons. S'.o

the wrecks of households strewn all along the pathwav of life, and how deplorable their condition. From ease aud comfort they have faUen into poverty and disgrace, and all because they spent moro money than they earned because they were "society" people and were compelled to maintain their station in life. Oh, what shadows they sought! ' . While the ruin of many homes is not traceable directly to the money that was squandered in "receptions" and "teas' and their kindred follies, still those things were the beginning, and it was to the expenses of maintaining their position in society that their fall is due. Look at the bills that come tumbling in every month for the needed (!) clothing with which to make an exhibition at the balls and parties that deluge the first circles. Why, we all know that they are enormous. A real stylish society dress, these davs, costs all the way from $150 to Si .000. And, then, i f a new gown is not purchased once a month they feel that their high position is being compromised in their "select" circles, aud the husband, the poor fool, goes down one step further on his way to financial rum by allowing the extravagance tocontinuewhen, by a word, he might end it by taking his wife and daughters into his confidence and explain his inability to meet such demands. But his love for his wife and family and his own desire to be considered "rich obscures his vision and he goes on to his doom. Now while such things may be considered proper for people whose incomes are large, who could easily afford a reception" every day. for that matter, still I am not clear as to their utility and their value in promoting friendships of the best order. Society, as a rule, is very heartless and cold, and as barren of the true instincts of humanity as a penitentiary is of honesty. When the money has all been 6pcnt the butterfly friends take wings and seek other flowers whereon to sip, while the poor wretch who has given up his all to retain his place in the world of fashion is driven to despair. He casts his eye around among his former "chums" for one look of recognition or one word of cheer, but .in vain. They pass him upon the sidewalk unnoticed; he is crowded out of his pew in the church and his 6eat in tho club-room, while his poor wife and children are "cut" most unmercifully by all their former "select" companions, and too late he learns the folly of a "society" life. You know that persons who aro really wealthy and can afford all these supposed luxuries of life, do not care as much for them as those who "assume" to bo rich, but who are, in reality, far from it. The pretenders watch every point in their appearance and life in order to detect a weakness of some kind, so as to enable them to cover it up with a show of wealth, and thus "fool" their friends. The horses may not be sufficiently stylish; tho carriage not of the latest pattern; daughter needs a riding horse, a French professor and an English maid; the son must make a tour of Europe, accompanied by a guide; tne house requires a new furnishing throughout: there is not a sufficiency of servants and a thousand other ways to get rid of money are presented that only the really wealthy can afford. It is these foolish imaginary wants that lure them to their ruin. Take the "best" circles of Indianapolis, or those who regard themselves as of that class, and how many of the members have incomes of from $10,000 to $15,000 a year in excess of the expenses of their' business! How many, I ask! Well, not many, I guess! And yet no one will pretend to deny that the expense of keeping up a fashionable household will easily consume either of the sums named. But even if a business man has a net income of ten thousand a year, he has no moral right to expend it in luxurious living. Prudence would say save as much of it as possible for a "rainy day," when there are no profits. I know gentlemen in this city worth all the way from three hundred thousand to a million dollars who have incomes from twentyfive to seventy-five thousand a year, who have told me that the demands of society, if fully met, would consume nearly every dollar of those incomes, and some of them are compelled to economize in various ways in order to come out even with their useless expenses. Let tho people of Indianapolis remember the sad fate of poor Mr. Moore, and if those who are living beyond their means will cut loose from their surroundings and seek comfort and pleasure and happiness around their own fireside instead of amidst the whirlpool of fashionable follies, they will quickly become better citizens and happier men and women. D. SwiSG. Chicago, Feb. 12.

THE XEPERS OF MOLOKAI. Frightful Condition of These Doomed Feo- , pie Father Damlen Slowly Dying. London Letter. The latest news from Father Damien, "the Apostle of the Lepers," comes in a letter from his assistant, the Kcv. M. Conrardy, an American priest who went to Molokai some months ago to assist the sufferer. The ministers of the Episcopal Church started a . fund for Father Damien 6ome time ago, and have promised to collect for him the handsome sum of 1,000. Indeed, it became fashionable for all who claimed to be philanthropists to forward personal contributions to the priest whose sufferings death alone can end and whose devotion to his charge has received such universal commendatiou. Father Conrardy's letter is addressed to a Birmingham gentleman, and declares that Father Damien cannot Uve much loner; that in all probability he would be ead before the letter reached England. Father Damien has. according to his associate, seen the population of Molokai renew itself three times, the average duration of a leper's life being about seven years, Not long ago the lepers undertook to build a little church. The only mason they had was an Irishman a leper and Father Damien, having yet the use of his hands, tho only carpenter. However, they managed to get the building, such as it is, readr for covering. The roofing was to be of iron, but while unloading it in a small boat the latter capsized, and the iron is now at tho bottom of the sea. It took five months to bring tho- iron from England, and the lepers will have to wait that length of time for another consignment. It was to build this church that the fund was started bv the clergymen of theEpiscopal Church, anil the interest in the project can be imagined from the fact that tho Episcopalian bishops of Manchester and Peterborough and other prominent prelates declare that they find in the leper priest "the most striking illustration that could be adduced of the living power of Christianity." The population of Molokai is now 1,130. "Kegularly, every week," he writes, "a 6rnall steamer mates its appearance here, and very early in the morning announces, by the loud blowing of -its whistle, that lopers have been landed. Then, those who can, hurry to the shore. Often we find our new-comers soaking wet. Now again begin the cries and tears, for one sees here the meeting again of a husband and his wife, or a wife seeing her husband among them, sometimes a child neeing its father or mother. They take the names of the new arrivals and every one sets out to find a lodging. Although I am not a leper. I could not leave here to go to any other oi these islands without a proper certificate from the Board of Health. But I have no wish to go anywhere. My mission is here, and here I'll remain." Until about a year ago Father Conrardy was connected with tbe archdiocese of Oregon, in the United States. Father Damien is a native of Belgium, and is about fortyeight years old. Shortly after his ordination in 18C4 he went as a raissioncr to the Hawaiin Islands. The bishop of these islands wanted a priest for tho lepers, and Father Damien volunteered, lie was landed on Molokai, and allowed to provide for himself as best he could. He had so much to do in - simply attending to the wants of dying people that he was unable to provide shelter for himself for a longtime. Once placed on the island he had to resign his liberty. The sheriff had orders to arrest him If he crossed to any of the neighboring islands. He is priest, physician and teacher, the children born ol lepers depending on him for education. King Kalakaua has learned to admire him, and a few years ago bestowed on him the privileges of the medical inspector and the decoration of Knieht Commander of the Order of Kalakaua L He does not avail himself of the former, and tbe latter is of worthless service to him in the social circles of the leper colony. The Irish leper to whom reference has been made has been a soldier in the English arm-. His name is Walsh, and he reached Honolulu in broken health and reduced circumstances just at the time a superintendent was needed to keep the colony in order. He accepted the position, with the result that he is a leper himself today and pining for relief in death. Brown's Expectorant has been in use in Indianapolis over thirty years. It cures

BUSINESS DIRECTORY. Xo. 3 ttxx BriLDrxo, ABSTRACTS OF TITLES.

AUGUSTUS LYNCH MASON, (Formerly of MorvmsM. Butler fc ila.wn,) ATTOKNKV AT LAW. JUa Lam Market street. 4 fPLTTXTC' E. C. A CO man n factor nl JY iJVtil O Repairer ot ClliCULAK, CUOSSCUT, BJLND and all other SAWS. Tteltlnr. Emery Wheel and XlllllVim CUtVI, VUB IKJIUIIU PVUU1 V, Ull'U OkAL'Au. .0 liEMIKGTOH TYPEWRITES! mm ni We pnarantf e the snperlnrltr of tmr machines, and priv every purchaser the prtrueee of murntnjr thm within SO days for full pnoe paid, it not aaUalactorr la every respect. We carry a complete stock of Llaca Pa peri ami ar surpuea tor Writing Msches. Wycoff, Scamans fc Benedict, SI North rennsylTanla Pt Inrtianspolls, Ind. HOLLIDAY & WYON. Wholesale ManufacrnrerA of CVnp, .Surrey, Unggf ana .xprens H A R NESS, No. 77 South Meridian street, Indianapolis. ty IMce List aent the trad on application. HADLEY SHOE FACTORY, MANUFATTJUEIt OF LADIES1, MISSES' AND CHILDREN'S FIE SHOES. Shoes made according to standard maaauremtnts adopted by Chicajro convention. Honest work and the bent of material ned In making Shoes. Orders from the trade solicited TO and. 83 Sontli Pennsylvania St NEW YORK STEAM DENTAL CO. From $5, 1 4, ffl, $3, $10 to ?:() imt 6ft. AU kinds ot line dental work at reduced price. Fin irold filling at $1 and npward. silver amalgam, too and 75c Teeth extracted for 25c Teeth extracted without pain. All work warranted a rerreeted- Ftf. teen years' experience A. 1 HEllKON, ai'gY. liooms 3 ana 4 urand upera-noue. 02 V U EMERY WHEELS. -SPECIALTIES OFW. B. Barry Saw & Supply Co., 1S2 and 131 South Peansjlvaiiia St. AH kinds of Saws repaired. Nordyke & Marmon Co. Estab. 1831. FOUNDERS AND MACHINISTS IndlAnapolls, Ind. Holler MtUs, Mill cleaning Machinery, Mid.uinga-punlierv iorvaDi aiuis, etc, iuoiucciruii tor stockyards. COMSTOCK & COONSE, WOOD, CHAIN and WOODEN FORCE PUMPS. Dealers In Iron Pipe, Driren-well Points and all DriTen-well fcuppliea. 1U7 and 109 8. Meridian feL ' INDIANAPOLIS STOVE CO. P ABBOTT '4 TAQGART WH0LZ3JLLX X BAKERS. Crackers Bread and Cakes. Manufacture of 8tovxs and Hoixow-waBE, isoa. 85 and tt7 South Meridian street. By Ti R, Belt, PaUnt Soflcltor trA KtcHrki DrNaMfRan, 69 !?' 8!f-V. !-''- THE H00SIER BURNER Is the result of much extterimentliw It combines the best qualities of all burners. HI the favorit among all gas-niters, bold to the trade at a liberal discount. STEEL PULLY ANDMACiHXE WORKS, Sole Makers, 79 and 83 South Pennsylvania 8L iSolld Paper Filling, forj Saw Mill Idlers or FeedWi Pulleys bored and turned ; bolt boles drilled to fit flanges. Paper JTrlctlona lor any purpose, Spur or Berel. Cheaper, more durable than wood or leather. BOCKWOOD, NEWCOMB & CO., ?.) (Amerlean Paper Pulley Company). O 180 to 190 8. Peaajylrasla St.. Indiana poll, lad. DR. H. A. STONE'S Nerve and Brain Treatment. A piaranteed pcclne for nerroaa prostration caused by the cioef ivei ue of aicholic stimulant or tobacco, headache, hysteria, nervou neural pia, fit, convulsions, dizzine, mental depression, wakefulness soften ins of tbe brain often resaltinsr in Insanity leadinc to miMry. death and decay, prera at are oUl atre,or indulgence caused by over-exrrtion of the 'brain. Knob box contains one month's treatment. Price $l.O0 a box. or sic boxes for $5.00 tent by wall, prepaid oa receipt of price. WE GUARANTEE FIX BOXES To cure any case. With each order received bf us for fix boxes, accompanied with $.Y00, w will send each purchar our writteu guarantee to refund tbe money if tbe treatment doea not effect a cure. The pauranteea are iwued only brW.N. Hhort, DrujrtrUt. Sole Agent, 49 South Illinois street, Indianailis. Indiana. ' WHOA, JANUARY! AD. I-IERETH, MannfActartr of TRUNKS AND SADDLERY. Horse Boots and Clmhlnr. Traveling Bags an4 Baskets. G3E. AVash. St. and E. Court St. Indianapolis Ind. ATIRJT8i!i C. W. Bradford, g2 u 0. irjDIAM APOL13, IND.2w. 1 S 0 1 9 Hue Btec. id.

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