Indianapolis Journal, Indianapolis, Marion County, 9 March 1890 — Page 9

If J r NDAY

PAGES 9 TO 12. PART TWO. J PRICE FIVE CENTS. PRICE FIVE CENTS. INDIANAPOLIS, SUNDAY MORNING, MARCH 9, 1890-TWELVE PAGES.

s

O

URN

A

-4

ADVICE FOR YOUNG WOMEN

Emma V. Sheridan Furnishes a Short Chapter of Valuable Suggestions. Girls Should Use Their Tonnes Less and Their Ijes 3Iore Excellent Results That Will Follow Observance of This Rule. "Written tor ti Sonfiaj JoarnsL An actress is supposed to be more or fess a mistresi of attractiveness, and, if she is, i is because she is more or less mistress of herself. She has accomplished that selfconsciousness which means ease and not awkwardness. Men complain that they find the average society girl cither "always in a flutter" or "deuced stilt" and stupid." She is all Bsailes and all movement, all "oh, dears!'1 and "oh, don'ta!" She wears pretty dresses, without making herself look pretty; her laugh is insincere, her voice unmodulated, her eyes restless; she is always having a "splendid time" and never enjoying herself; or she has nothing at all to say. She smiles only with her lips, and then stems to disapprove of it, and she has only one pose a straight one, with arms bent so that below the elbows they reston the hips, and with hands clasped in a position that is undeniably stiff. ow, both of these girls want to secure the repose that attends presence of mind and relaxation of muscle. Does that sound complicated? Let gravitation take care of your ht.nds. except when yon are using them; remember that gesture is not mere movement, but should say what the words that follow repeat. Remeinber that a woman's eyes are not given her only to see with. Let your eyes speak first; a movement of the hand, a change of face, say the mama thin more fully and finally; let the words come gently, and in a tone which shall snit their import What you say means something then, and was waited for, too. I warrant you, with . interest more or less breathless as the situation was more cr less important. There is another trick to hold a position in absolute quiet till what is said, or what you yonrself say, requires a movement. Cutoff all your little oh,s" and MahV let your eyes follow the story your escort is telling it may bo awfully stupid and it will be easier to let your eyes and face reflect his varying expressions of interest than to pretend further and folluw his with exclamations which are bound to seem insincere or overdone. Tbat'a a big secret never try to do too much. The girl who makes a sort of plungo at a man saying "Oh, Mr. Jones how glad 1 am to seeyou oh dear, do sit down; oh my; how are. vouP with accompanying flutter and laugh, and fuss, does not make half the impression accomplished by the girl whose eyes light up till her lips catch the smile of welcome, and whoso hand goes out before she says just "Mr. Jones7' in a voice that means something a voice that says whether she ia glad, very, very glad, or not glad at alL Only a little more is enough to suggest that he should sit down. The averr.ge American girl does not know how to move unless she moves all over at once. Go and study Bernhardt or Modjeska. See how the eye catches the thought, the head lifts, the nose in some subtile way alters and the hands in gesture say what not till then the lips utter. All of this may be gone through with in a thought's space, but it is done, and the result 1s an impression of grace, sincerity and utter lack of self-consciousness. See how much is expressed by just the eyes and head why dislocate the spine by a spasmodic jerk through the entire anatomy when attention is railed to one side or another' There is nothing more graceful than the bend of a woman's head on a well-poised neck. Do that bend no need to move tho rest of you. By the same token, if you have seen tit to lower your eyelids, and droop your head when Alphonso says: "1 have been hunting through the entire ballroom for you" when he adds, "and now you are not glad to see me,'1 it is enough mat to lift your head and look at him. You ean convey there just what you want to say. aud more accurately and more gracefully than by a wnggle, of denial which pervades your entire frame, and a dribble of exclamation with the detached tag-ends of a laugh. If you get into the habit of always letting your eyes attend to a thing first, you will avoid lots of embarrassing situations. SuDpose you have been discussing Miss Belleville hair and have committed tho indiscretion of calling it red, when a voice sounds close at your side which to your horror you think you recognize as Miss Belleriile's voice why give a convulsive start, a con fused snicker, and a compromising gurale of half -formed explanation or deprecation? You will be wiser and safer, and more graceful, too, if you just turn your eys to see if it is Miss Belleville. If it is, your complete repose may make her think she didn't hear aright in case she did hear, and will not arouse her suspicions in case she didn't hear. If Mr. So-and-so spill a half-melted ice all over your gown, your habit of looking first will save you from the exclamation of rage and despair, which would make Mr. So-and-so feel worse than he does feel, and will enable you to smile gently and eay "It does not matter" in a tone of voice which shall not belie the words.' If you have a piece of startling news sprung upon you, your habit of not speaking too quickly, and keeping still till you have looked, may save you from the betrayal of interest that you wish to conceal, or from a remark which would be the last in tbe world that you would care to be gniltyof at that moment, but which, for all that, may be just npon your tongue. Jf you keep yonr eyes up to their share of talking you will be spared a thousand verbal insincerities when Mr. Bore dashes up. saying he is so glad to see yon, and that he hopes yon are glad to see him. He will feel satisfied if you look pleased and sympathetic, and your conscience will be clearer than if you bad gotten off some polite fib. All the awkward "don't you think so's," and "wouldn't youV and doesn't it's" can be satisfactorily and nncoinproraisingly replied to. if only you will learn to dispense with words. The dullest sort of a story may be listened to with complete satisfaction to the reconnter, and without undue strain upon yourself, if yon will stand still, sar nothiug, and just letyour eyes and face reject the varying degrees of interest expressed upon the story-teller's face. Gain this power of not moving or speaking, and and of at the same time looking interested, nd you will be voted a charming girl, even by the men whose talk is so stupid that you don't think of Buch a thing as really listening to them. t-A re"aSe given by a sudden droop of the lids and leveling of the brows is quite as telling, less bother and more easily administered than a "cutting remark." You can wither the person in that way without calling other people's attention to the fault or to your displeasure. It all resolves itself into self-possession and Invariable presence of mind. Selfpossession means more than mere mental control it means complete muscular subjection. If, in yonr course across the room, you are suddenly brought to halt by having your train stepped on. your halt should tie prompt enough to avoid the gown's being torn and tho oflender being worse embarrassed than is necessary. If you turn And come in contact with an nnexpected stool, you should not fall over it. Yonr command of equilibrium should bo perfect enough to enable yon to avoid even an awkward stumble. If three or four people present themselves simultaneously, and in an unexpected crowd, tor recognition, only control of yourpoiso will save you from awkwardness, and this control you should secure. I have said very little of the voice. The less said of the average girl's voice, the better. Again, gu and stndy Modjeska, liernhardt, too, if you understand French. Learn that it is not what you say, but tho toDe in which you say it, that conveys an idea. A gabble of words all tumbled otf in a strained, insincere voice, withintcrvals of gasps and detached giggles, may sufiico to break ur the silence, but it won't convey what one word in a voice that means something will. I remember a man once spying to me. 'That girll-she's a witch! she can make the most commonplace roaaik, and her steady eyes and heart voico

will make a man forget the words and wonder what she means," Ihe girl was an actress. "No" can be said with all the eentlcness of "yes" "yes" with the prohibition of "no.b Of a dozen greetings ono can be made to mean something unexpressed in all the others. The weather can be spoken or so that the hearer may be made to feel that his presence is a pleasure, or otherwise. I lie voice should be clear, low. and full of changeful modulations. Not the tiresome ups and downs of affectation, but the modifying of tons to suit the thought the voice-coloring of words tho suggestion in sound of. all that tho mere word cannot convey, lhink of the advantage of elating Bertie by just the sound of the good-bye you ay, and sending Mr. Courtley off with a faxed determination to come back at the farst opportunity by the same two words, spoken a little diflbrently, of course. Emma V. Sheridan. Copyright, 1890.)

Tho Queen's Way. London Letter. The Queen is, as may be imagined, a stern mentor in small matters as in great. Her dislike to the ways and manners of tho modern English woman is very evident, and only recently has she allowed her ladies to indulge in such vanities as "fringes," or to disport themselves in ulsters or other outdoor gear displaying a masculine cut. To drive a dog-cart was also, in her opinion, an essentially manly privilege, and the Princess Beatrice, who now revels in the pastime, had. I believe, a hard time to obtain her mothers permission to be seen thus demeaning herself anywhere outside tho castle grounds at Balmoral. Victoria's own costumes are of the simplest, and her bonnets of antiquated fashion, while must I admit itT her indoor boots retain the broad, almost forgotten shape of bygone times, and are made of parametta, with elastic sides. Not long ago, to my knowledge, a pretty little maid ox three summers, the child of ono of her favorite young friends, was summoned to Windsor to take tea with her. Majesty's grandchildren. The proud mother had dressed her tiny daughter in a sashless but picturesque Kate Greenaway frock a new tangled attire, which did not seem to find pleasure with her Majesty, for sho remarked to the nurse on partiug with hen "Maggie is a nice little girl, but the next time she comes to see me she must wear a sash." Covrles and the Egsr That One lien Laid. New York Times. One of the choice traditions of the Cleveland press is absolutely true, and well illustrates Mr. Cowles's inability to understand a joke. A reporter upon one occasion, after describing an immense egg which some bucolio friend had sent in that it might have its size 6onnded in the trump of local fame, added this explanatory note: "It is perhaps needless to say that this egg was laid bv only one hen." When Mr. Cowles reached the office on tho morning following he sent for the city editor, and, laying his finger on tho ottending paragraph, demanded, "Who wrote that item!" "Mr. M.," was the reply. "Send him here immediately." Mr. M. appeared and acknowledged the anthorship. Mr. Cowles looked at him for a moment in amazed disf ust, and then thundered: "Only one hen! Jon't you know that two hens couldn't lay one eggf II ow to Head Browning. Boston Globe. You mnst absorb him through the pores of your soul. Make yourself a sponge, hurl yourself at Browning and soak. Sit down and read a poem whole. Do not try to understand. Do not stop to query in your reading. "wnat does this meant" Xsever mn mind; read on. Plnnge through it any way, simply calling tho words; then replunge and re-re-ro-plunge. And, then, when you have re-re-re-plunged for a considerable length of time, varying from hours to months, according to tho perspicacity of your intellect, you begin to see the parts of the poem, the whole in relation to the parts, and the parts in relation to each other. Knitting for the Heathen. Philadelphia Press. Some Jadies who attended recent debates in Congress took their work along. It was a curious-looking, seamless garment, they were all engaged in making. "What is it?" asked one of the Senators of a lady he knew. "What is the pink and blue work that you are all so busy about!" "We are making Brabazons," was the answer. "May I inqnire what a Brabazon is!" asked the mystified man. They proved to be sacques for the infant heathen, and were so-called after Lady Brabazon, the Countess of Meath, who visited America last fall in the interests of the Ministering Children's League. 8tory of a Curious Calt Paris Dispatch to tho London Daily Telegraph. In the absence of a sea serpent some Parisian disseminators of so-called "news" have invented a phenomenal calf, which, according to the elaborate description f urnished. would seem to be a canard. This curious animal is said to have seen the light at a place called Beaumont, and has the head of a bulldog, with cropped ears its eyes are starting out of their orbits liko those of a far-eastern dragon; its month is small; its forelegs are shortened abnormally, while its hind feet resemble those of a pig. and are exceptionally long. If this calf be really grazing in the fields of Beaumont, it deserves to encounter an enterprising Barnum who will take it about on show. A Zenten Amusement. Philadelphia Record. In the households where cards and dancing are under ban during the lenten season the event of an evening gathering is the tolling of fortunes by means of a cast-oif shoe, which is usually done by some good "all around" society fellow. Prevailing characteristics are said to crop out in the old shoe as perceptibly as the bumps on the head are to the phrenologist. This new accomplishment takes the place of palmistry. The one drawbackis that theyoung lady is apt to palm off her younger sister's shoe as her own. m i . Thought She Signaled for Beer. Philadelphia Record. An up-town dress-maker occupies the second story of a building, and the first lioor ' a emporium. The other night the lady lit the gas with a wisp of paperfwhich she then threw on the floor. It blazed up and she stamped on it vigorously half a dozen times. A moment later there was a clinking sound, and the burly first-floor tenant came puffing In grasping six glasses of beer. A Nice Voung Man's Tlx. Philadelphia Record. A? aTery nre-looking young man pulled his prayer-book from his pockot on a Market-street car yesterday morning a big red poker chip fell to the floor. The inmore aggravating to him and amusing to the other passengers as tho chip fell between the slats of the flooring and his rlounderinga to recover the disk were painful to behold. T T Accounting for the Toughness. , Texas Sittings. Guest-lattempting to carve)-Whatkind of a chicken is this, anyhow! Waiter Dat's a genuine Plymouth Rocker sah. Guest (throwing up both hands) That explains it; I knew she was an old-timer but I had no idea she dated back there Take er away; I draw the line on the hens from the Mayflower. lleform K fleeted by "Leglettes." Jenness Miller's Magazine. One lady says that her only objection to the divided skirt is that sh cannot comfortably cross her legs. A virtue, indeed, for if the reflex achievement of this garment shall be to do away with the ungraceful and vulgar, habit, too prevalent among ladies, of crossing their legs, wo shall hava scored an unexpected triumph. Women and Roses. Harper's for March. After wo have produced it we find that the biggest rose. even, is not the most precious; and, lovely as woman is, we instinctively put a limit to her size.

THE MEN AT TIIE T1TR0TTLE

All Who Stick to Their Locomotives in Time of Danger Are Not Heroes. An Old Engineer Fays It Is Often Safer Not to Jump Some Interesting Illustrations of His Theory "Doc" Simmons's Fate. New York Sim. "Things have changed considerably since yon used to ride with me." said a prominent railroad official to a reporter, the other day, and the reporter was compelled to admit that they had, for in the days recalled the now general superintendent of a great railroad was an engineer, and the scribe a junior clerk in the freight department of the company employing both. . "Yes," continued the old gentleman, "everything is changed except the averago newspaper writer's idea of the crushing weight of responsibility under which the locomotive engineer is supposed to constantly stagger. That never changes. I am led to this observation by the account of yesterday's accident on the X., Y. & Z. road, which I had finished reading as you came in." "To what part of the idea do you object, Mr. A.!" asked the reporter. "I don't object to any of it. The account I have just read has merely revived my oft-aroused amusement at tho persistent assumption that the engineer ot a passenger train is accustomed to strike a heroic attitude upon mounting bis engine and maintain it to the end of his run, however long it may be; the assumption that he stands rigid on the foot-board, with one hand firmly grasping the throttle and the other clutching tho ru verse lover, his eyes riveted on the track ahead of him and his soul racked with anxiety for the safety of the precious human freight committed to his charge. You have ridden on many engines; did you, over see such an exhibition!'' The reporter confessed that he never did, and tho now thoroughly communicative ex-engineer continued: "Engineers as a class are probably the most industrious, sober and intelligent of all men engaged in skilled mechanical labor. They unquestionably have a thorough appreciation of tho responsibility of their duties and conduct themselves accordingly, but the theory that they have no thought whilo on duty save the all-absorbing one of snatching human beings from the jaws of death, and that tho fear of danger to their passengers so constantly gnaws at their hearts that their hair turns gray and their backs bend beneath the terrible load, is one of tho most ridiculous fancies imaginable. "It is almost invariably assumed by the reporter of a railroad accident, and therefore implicitly believed by the average reader, that tho man who sticks to his engine in the face of an inevitable collision does so because of his devotion to his trust the safety of his passengers. We who know better can seo a hundred other reasons for his apparent determination not to desert his post. Self-preservation is the first law of nature, aud no man confronting nlmost certain death sinks all thoughts of his own safety beneath a wave of anxiety for the preservation of others. Some engineers, though they are not in the majority, contend that a man's chances of escaping injury or death in a collision, though small in any circumstances, are better in remaining in the cab than in jumping. Others adhere to the belief that the chances of escape are infinitely better in jumping. But there are many conditions to be taken into consideration. Suppose that at the time the jumping engineer got ready to leave his engiue he should find that his leap would land him in a ravine fifty feet or mora in depth, or upon a pile of railroad iron, or dash him against a stone wall, do you think he would jump! Not he. He would take his chances of crawling out of the wreck alive rather than jump into eternity. Many a hiau who has been written a hero for 'bravely sticking to his post and endeavoring to save the lives of his passengers, unmindful ot him88 If.' stuck to his post solely because when he had exhausted ail of the resources at his command to stop his train be found that he hadn't time to jump, or that ho would bo killed if he did. "The first thing an engineer thinks of when his eugine leaves the track is to shut off' his steam. lie then reach'es for the airbrake, and at the same time tries to reverse her. Suppose heis on a high embankment, and that by the time he has applied tho brake his engine begins to roll down the bank. He can't jump, for ho is rolling with her, and in nino cases out of ten he will grasp the reverse lever or throttle to hold oo. Probably the next turn the engine makes will crush the engineer todeath. When the wreck is cleared away the poor fellow is found with his hand on tho throttle, and out goes the report that he refused to jump, and perished a victim to his efforts to save his passengers, though all of the available efforts to stop the train had been exhausted with bis Bhutting off, applying tho brake, and reversing. No matter; the fact that bis hand was on the throttle is sufficient to canonize him. Together with this report is made the statement that the fireman jumped and saved his life. Of course he aid. He had plenty of time, and if the engineer had had as much time, don't be foolish enough to think that he wouldn't have gone with the fireman." "It seems strange to see you in the role of Iconoclast, Mr. A., after having yourself served as an engineer for twenty-five years." remarked the reporter. "Why, my dear fellow, I am not trying to destroy any idols; I am simply endeavoring to impress upon your mind the fact that the locomotive engineer is only human. Now, I read in a very well-written story of a phantom train on afar Western railroad, a short time ago, the assertion that engineers on passenger trains rarely speak to their firemen, so absorbed are they in their duty of looking ahead and worrying abont the safety of their passengers, tho only thing tho writer appears to think an engineer has to do. It is true that two men thrown constantly together, with no third person to suggest subjects of conversation, soon get talked out. but you may rely upon it that if either has anything to say, he very promptly says it. It is very much to the credit of the engineer that he rarely, if ever, forgets that he was once a fireman, or loses sight of the fact that in due time the fireman on the other side of his engine will become an eugineerand his equal in respect to position." "Can you illustrate, f rora'your experience of the jumping theory and its opposite!" "Yes, easily enough. As engineers seldom lose their heads, I will give you the only instance of one doing so that I can recall. It illustrates tho theory, too, that it is safer to remain in the cab than to jump. Joe B. had never had an accident more serious than a broken spring-hanger since he began railroadiug. His phenomenal luck in this respect gained for h;m through tho local papers, of course the reputation of being the most careful and trustworthy engineer on the road. One day, as he was bowling along at about thirty-five miles an hour, with ten well-loaded passenger cars behind him, he slid off his' seat to stretch his legs. He had scarcely gained his feet when the parallel rod on his side broke, and the three-foot piece attached to the crank-pin of the back driver crashed through the 6eat he had just vacated, showering Joe with splinters, broken glass, etc. At the next revolution the flying end of tho rod struck the eud of a tie, lifted tho engine about six inches, and set her down with a bang. Did tho engineer, whoso fidelity and carefulness according to the local papers had' enabled him to run ten or fifteen years without mishap and endeared hfra to the frequent riders on tho road, 'bravely stick to his post' and sacrifice himself to the safety ot his ten car-loads of passengers? Indeed he didn't. Ho incontinently sacrificed himself to tho fright which overcame him. Ho didn't even wait to shut oti, but took a flying leap as the rod came through tho cab a second time, and, landing on his head, broke his neck. The fireman stopped the train, 'took down' the disabled side of the engino and brought her in. "On the other hand. I suppose the case of Ed Simmons, bettor known as "Doc" Simmons, who was killed at New Ham-

burgh draw, about twenty years ago, is the best cxamplo of tho theory that jumping is eater than hanging on that railroad history records. Simmons was hauling the express that left New York about 6:30 P. M. Ashe neared New Hamburg bridge he saw coming toward bim on the down track a freight train. As the latter struck the bridge, several of its cars loaded with oil left the track and crowded over toward the up track, bo that it was impossible for Simmons to pass them. That was before air-brakes came into use, at least on the Hudson River road, and braking was done by hand. The passenger cars were fitted, however, with what was known as the Creamer patent brake; which was used in emergencies. The apparatus consisted of a powerful spring attached to the brake-wheel at one end of tho car. Tho spring was wound up and hold by a pawl and rachet A 6harp pull of the bell-cord raised the pawl aud released the spring which set the brakes. Simmons undoubtedly believed that ho

could stop his train before reaching the i bridge, and, in addition to nis reconrse to the ordinary methods of stopping, told his firemen to'pull the 'patents.' The fireman testified at the coroner's inquest that he obeyed the order, but whether hedil or not is still an open question. There isno doubt, however, that he jumped immediately after gettingtheorder.be himself having admitted that, and he is alive to-day, while Simmons, who hadn't time to jump after the necessity for doing so became plain, went with his engino through the ice to the bottom of Wappinger's creek. When Simmons was taken out : few days later not a scratch could be found on his body. He had been simply drowned. "Incidentally, it may interest you to know that Simmons was running the 'Constitution which, with her sister engiue, the 'Union,' was built in the McQueen shops at Schenectady to take Abraham Lincoln over the Hndson River road when he went to Washington to be inaugurated in 1861. On that occasion the 'Union' hauled the train, whilo the 'Constitution' run ahead as pilot. Little more than four years later the same engines, with their functions reversed, conveyed tho dead body of tho murdered President from New York to Albany on its memorable journey to Springfield, 111. William Buchanan, then master-mechanic of tho Hudson River road, and now superintendent of motive power of tho New York Central system, acting as engineer of the 'Constitution.' Since that time both machines have been rebuilt, and the later substitution of numbers for names in designating tho engines of that road placed them in the libts as numbers 53 and 57 respectively. "But until accidents shall be governed by specific rules, no man can say what another may or shall do in a moment of great danger, and the question whether it is safer to jump or to hang on must forever remain unanswered. I have seen two men crawl unscathed from a cab so completely smashed that it didn't seem possible that a baby could be squeezed into the spaco between the shattered roof and the footboard, yet I have known men to be killed by flying objects, though the cab in which they remained was scarcely scratched." KEEP SniS WORD. Some Facts About Reporters That Contradict Recent Slanders. Pittsburg Chronicle. Senator Edmunds is reported assaying: "Of fifty newspaper correspondents to whom information is given in confidence, forty-nine will respect the pledge of secrecy." This is a commentary and in some measure an answer to those savage aud reckless assaults upon newspaper reporters which are getting in vogue on both sides of tho Atlantic. The great body of men editorially connected with the American press is a responsible and not an irresponsible body. No newspaper managers will long tolerate a constitutional liar, sneak or blackguard in their establishments. Accuracy is nowadays a fundamental requisite in reports, and several departures therefrom will cause the discharge of the offending party. As to the inditiereOce and brutality of reporters, the fact is, iarnore is suppressed, where public interests are not involved, than is ever published, and the "scandals" which find mention in the papers are notorious in the localities where they occur before they find their way to other points. It is better then that tho exact facts should be given. The great bulk of reportorial work has nothing whatever to do with private scandals. In the matter of betraying confidence, it is enough to say that most persons know that a newspaper reporter seeks information for publication, and not for curiosity. He is not a "Paul Pry" or a detective. He is a gatherer of news relating to matters which directly or indirectly concern the community, and if information is volunteered which ought to be made kuown. he will uot make any pledge of secrecy. If he does make it, he will be apt to keep it. as courts constantly discover. A. SIiOYrinan's Idea for the World's Fair. P. T. Barnnm, in North American Review. What novel feature would I propose for the world's fair? Now, I will present the fair committee with one of my ideas an idea that might bring me in a million of money. In the museum at Boolak, in Egypt, lies tho mummified corpse of RameH68 II, the Pharaoh of the Exodus, with that of his daughter, the savior of Moses, and other less distinguished of the royal Egyptian family of that era. I had authorized an agent to offer the Egyptian government as much as $100,000 to allow me to exhibit thoso remains in Europe and the United States. I will relinquish my right of priority of claim in tho idea to the fair committee. Let them obtain the loan of these mortuary relics from the Egyptian government and allow the Khedive to send his own soldiers to guard the cotiins. Think of the stupendousness of the incongruity! To exhibit to the people of tho nineteenth century, in a country not discovered until two or three thousand years after his death, that corpse of the king of whom we have the earliest recordl Consider, too, that the corpse is so perfectly preserved after thousands of years in the tomb that its fcaturas are almost perfect: so perfect that every man, woman ana child who looks upon the mummy may know the countenance of the despot who exerted ho great an influence upon the his tory of the world. And it might be a useful thought to this generation, proud of its scientific and mechanical triumphs, to bear in mind that the art that embalmed the body of Rameses so perfectly is lost, with a great many others that were known to remote antiquity. . They Were All Broke. Atlanta Constitution. Three sweet-looking girls got on an electric car yesterday bound for West Peachtree street. They sat and giggled pleasantly until the conductor came through the car to collect the fares. Then with equal Eromptness each of the girls reached for er purse, and the following conversation ensued: All three at once Oh, let me pay. May No, it's my turn; I insist on paying.Clara Girls, it's really my turn to pay, and I want to do it Fannie I proposed riding home; so I think I ought to pay. Then the three purses were simultaneously opened and the three pretty faces grew scarlet. Two cents and a postage stamp was all the wealth of the crowd. Without heeding the offers of financial aid, which came from several gentlemen, tho three girls hurried out of the car. and as it rolled away they were standing on tho next corner explaining to each other how it happened that they were all broke. Signs of Approaching Death. BL T-OTils Bepubllo. The eminent Dr. Chinppoli states that he has frequently noticed in patients, apparently very far from death, an extraordinary opening of the eyelids, eo much so as to give the eyes an appearance of protruding from their orbits, which he considers an invariable sign that death will occur within twenty-four hours. In some cases, when only one eye is wide open while the other remains normal, death will not follow quite no rapidly, but will take place inside of seventy-two hours, there not being the slightest chance for recovery after these symptoms set in, however remote final dissolution may teem to bo. Chiappoli says ho is utterly at a loss for an explanation of this death symptom, but ascribes it to a diseased state of the sympathetic nerve.

A TBEAT FOR MRS. KENDAL

Her longing for a Sight of Ucr Children, and How It Was Dispelled. She Saw Fourteen Hon JredLittle Ones and Was Charmed by Their Actions High Praise for Our Educational Institutions. Copyright, 1890. When we first spoke of coming to America, a dear friend of ours, an American gentleman, promised that when we did come he would make the journey with us. Ho kept his promise, and one morning shortly after our arrival in New York, as he entered our room in the hotel, he said to me: "Why, Mrs. Kendal, you look homesick. Do you feel sol" "No." I replied, "not homesick, but childsick. I'm lonesome for a sight of my children." "Are you!" returned he. "Then come with me." After donning my wraps, we took a carriago and drove for a long time I don't know where, some place on Lexinrton avenue, I think and entering a handsome building, were taken into a large room, at one end of which, on a small platform, sat a lady. She greeted us very cordially, saying a few words of welcome to me, and then suddenly gave a signal, at which there came into tho room four hundred dear littlo children. A moment later the glass partitions, which divided the room from its neighbor, rolled back, and there, were four hundred more of the dear little ones though these children wore younger and again, back of them, opened more glass doors, and there were six hundred of the dearest mites. Then all of these children, to the sound of music, performed a most perfect calisthenic drill. Never have I seen such uniformity and precision, even in our finest military maneuvers at home. It was marvellous. They moved their little arms with the most perfect precision, turned their faces profile, half, threequarters, with an acenracy which an artist might have sketched perfectly; they patted their dear little cheeks, and did it all to the beat of a demi-semiquayer, with the music. Think what ability tho perfect training of thoso children showed their preceptress to possess. Such a woman should have been given some great position, for tho precision and accuracy of those babies' motions spoke volumes for her skill. After tho calisthenics, their dear little voices sang for me "Rule Britannia," and I can't say how much the, 6ong afiected me. A child's voice has a tone in it which the human voice when over eighteen years of ago ceases to possess, and it was that tone in those little shrill-sounding voices raised in song that impressed me. For 1 lovo children, and this separation from my own has been more than hard to bear, and the sight of all these little ones was fast helping me to endure it. On inquiring I was told that these children, fourteen hundred in number uot four, or fourteen, or even four hundred, but fourteen hundred of them were taught and cared for in this institution, freel It is wonderful. They are given everything; books which any gentleman might be proud to have in his library, these children are permitted to use daily. I asked for what class of children this school was intended, and was told that no classes were recognized there. The millionaire's daughter might and did sit next to the carpenter's daughter, uud they learned together, until oh. America! land of no class distinctions tho children became eight or nine years old, and then the millionaire's daughter was taken away from the institution by her parents, sent t6 a boarding school, or abroad, to finish her education. Thouch you Americans will not acknowledge that you possess any distinctions of class or caste, they are here in spite of you; you call them by 6omo other name and are content. But to return: When the children had finished singing for me, one of them recited a poem about the Atlantio cable, and then I made them a littlo speech. I told them that I was so pleased to see them, and how they had eased, if not cured, my child-sick-ne38, and how I had enjoyed their singing of "Rule Britannia." I wished that I could sing "The Star-spangled Banner" for them in return; but as I aid not know it, I must try to learn it. that when I next came I should be able to sing it for them; and I told them that what they had said about the Atlantio cable made me long to place myself on it and be taken over home for a glimpse cf my own children, for I was getting very lonesome for them, and did not think that 1 would ever be willing to leave them agaiu. Then 1 said good-by to the children and to their teachers mere girls, most of them and to the superior, a most charming woman, and drove home feeling much cheerier and happier for my glimpse of those cnildren. and full of wonder aud admiration for the marvelous country that could present such institutions to its children, for their nse, free. The next day I took the ladies of my company almost all of whom have little ones of their own, and who were finding their separation from them, as I had mine, very hard to bear and, after taking the wrong car. and losing our way, and having altogether a most exciting time, we finally reached the institution and were shown the children. Almost all of the ladies were affected to tears, but my emotion was of another kind. The only moment whenl felt as though I should weep was when they sang for us, and then I really feared that I would break down, for, as I said before, the cadence of children's voices is always most thrilling to me. There is nothing like this institution in England, which may account in part for the great impression which it made npou me. In Londou there is the Masonic school, which in a degree resembles it, and with which 1 am perfectly frmiliar in all its dotails. My husband is one of the managers of this school, and, as a Mason's wile, I have the freedom of it. But the discipline, the training, the teaching and the appliances are far inferior to the American institution which I have described. Such an institution as the latter is a Utopian realization. One of the teachers in this institution had told me that her father was the president of the Normal College in New York, and advised me to make a visit there. A few days later I went, and found there eighteen hundred young women, the flower and beauty of the country. I was paid tho great compliment of having these fair creatures assembled to meet me. The school would rank with Eton, Harrow and Rugby in England, and as I realized what tbe compliment would have meant coming from them, I considered it one of magnitude. At a signal, these eighteen hundred young women rose, exactly on the instant, together, and sang a hymn in Latin! Think of it! Then, at another signal they placed their eighteen hundred selves in eighteen hundred chairs, all again on the instant. Such precision! It is marvelous. I was presented to these young women and asked them where they expected to find eighteen hundred husbands worthy of them. These are samples of tbe many free institutions of learning In this wonderful country. And as such they have impressed me deeply.. I have, of course, in my busy career here, had but little time for sightseeing, and so have missed many things which would have given me great pleasure to have examined more closely. But, though my time has been limited, my presence in so many cities has filled me with greater appreciation of the immensity of the size, charities, industries and institutions of this marvelous land. Another'thing by which all English people who visit America must be surprised, as ranch and as deeply as I have been, is by the extensive expanse of territory. To be able to take railway journeys thousands of miles in length, this to an Englander is amazing. Another thing which has deeply impressed me has been the distinct characteristics prevailing in each city. Boston is not in any way like to New York, nor Philadelphia to Chicago. I could no more confound any one of them with another than I could'mistake a Philadelphian for a

New Yorker. They are themselves and themselves aloue. No city has any idea or the powers and capabilities of its neighbors: bc-rrause of tho distance between most of them it is impossible that they should have. What does New York know of Philadelphia' magnificent charities, homes and institutions, or what knows Boston of Baltimore's places of help. Your cities are so scattered, and your distances so great, so enormonsly f reat, that such knowledge is impossible, 'ach has its marksof individuality, just as all are possessed with tho common virtue or grace I know not which to term it of hospitality. We had read of American hospitality, we bad heard of it, but now we have seen, enjoyed, and experienced it, and I can easily say that there is . nothing like it the world over Such cordiality and kindness I have never before encountered. And I have been able only in a slight degree to accept of this hospitality, for various reasons. My workt unfortunately, reqnires so much of my time, rehearsals are constantly necessary, for we are always fly in g from one city to another, and in each place we have to begin work afresh. And then, the very abbreviated length of our stay in tba different cities has helped to prevent me knowing more intimately the charminrr people I have had the good fortune to meet. " But to know that this journey, which has meant to me nine months' separation from my children, my home," and all of my oldest friends, constant traveling, the facing of new audiences nightly, aud of new critics almost weekly, that this journey, besides bringing appreciation, has brought me many now warm friends, and has given, perhaps, much pleasure to these friends, to know this is most satisfactory. To finish where I began, however, tho only unhappiness connected with the iourney has been the separation from my children, a separation which I could not endure again, and should I ever return to America they shall come with me. Madge Kendal.

TIIE HOTEL DE RAMBOUIUET. The First French Literary Salon in Which a Woman Was the Central Figure. Written for the Sunday Journal. Like a little oasis of purity in tho great French desert of corruption and frivolity that characterizes the seventeenth century appears the salon of the Hotel Rambonillet tho happy inspiration of a woman. Catharine do Vlvonne, of Italian birth, was married very young to the Marquis de Rambonillet and suddenly introduced into the gay and licentious Court of Honry IV. Virtuous, intelligent and beautiful, conscientiously and tenderly accepting tho duties of motherhood before the age of twenty, she shrank more and more wearily from the gilded hollowness of such society as frequented the salons' of tho King and Cardinal and quietly gathered around her a select circle, comprising the purest and most refined women, tho bravest and wittiest men snd the best literary talent of cither sex and of whatever social 8tatU9,tne only conditions being that they were "well mannered," and the democracy of letters, says Van Laun. profited immeasurably by tho happy idea which made Catharine do Vivonno the cynosure of literary Parisians. These rare reunions hitherto unknown in tbe society of Paris were first held in the old Hotel Rambouillcr, but afterwardain a new mansion designed by Madame Rambonillet herself, with a special view to its convenience for such purposes. This building, situated in the Ruo St. Thomas du Souvre, was not very extensive, but chaste and beautiful in appearance, and the famous blue chamber was a large salon, with blue velvet haugings and furniture brightened with gold and silver. The windows, opening from floor to ceiling, admitted sunshine and fresh air, and rovealed beyond, as far as the eye could reach, a stretch of beautiful and well-cultivated grounds. Here authors, wits and persons of rauk met for the first time as equals, and tho dispeuser of this charming hospitality was their acknowledged queen, whom they delighted to honor. Among tho many noted women of the period who were members of tho salon, or "ruelle," as it was called in thoso days, were the young and beautiful Marquise Sevigne. Madame Lafayette, of charming wit and irreproachable character; Princess de Condo and her daughter, afterwards Duchess de Longueille; Marquise de Sable; M'lle. Seudery, the voluminous novel-writer; Madame Anbry and M'lle. Paulet, the two latter adding to the charms of the occasion by their exquisite singing. Literature among the men was represented by such distinguished writers as Malherbe, Racan and Dtscarte, as well as Bossuet, who, almost a child, here began his career as a preacher. Voiture, the "creator of a particular literaturethat of society." was one of the habitual frequenters of the house, in spite of the assertion that his manners were not so invariably polished as to save hit a from the criticism of his more refined associates, having started in life with less advantage in this respect than the majorty of them. Nevertheless. Madame Sevigne characterized him as the "free, playful, charming Voiture" and he is 8.1 id to have been, uIfo, the first example of a man of letters, who preserved his independence among the greatest lords; and his caustic epigrams wero dreaded by all Parisians. The proud and timid Corneille read all hisfirst productions here and held rare conversations with Balzac concerning Rome and the Romans. In the works of Balzac we find some of his learned discourses addressed to the Marchioness de Rambouillet, which, perhaps, as well as anything that could be mentioned, gives one an idea of the mental calibre of this charming woman. Tho conversational elegance which ever afterward distinguished the great salons of Paris originated at the Hotel de Rambouillet. and tho French Academy took its rise from one of tho literary reunions which was an outgrowth of it. A shadow from which it never entirely emerged fell upon this charming salon, after a brilliant existence of almost half a century, when the "idol of the house," tbe fair daughter of Madamo Rambouillet, married, and left Paris during the troubles of theFronde,andaltbough,at the conclusion of the civil war, there was an efiort made to revive the old glory of the hotel, the fact was sadly conceded that the refinement of dignified simplicity which had attracted all Paris had begun to give place to an "affectation at which almost all Paris laughed, and Moliere gave it the deathblow by hi s comedy of "Les Preeicuses Ridicules and Les leromes Savantcs." The shafts of satire were not intended for Madame Rambouillet. nor her daughter, nor such as Madame Sevigne aud Madame Lafayette, but some of the later adherents. At the first representation of "Les Precieusea Ridicules," at the Theater dn Petit Bourbon, Madamo Rambouillet and almost all her salon were present, and good naturedly helped to swell the applause which greeted it, with all the more fervor because Paris up to this time had had little opportunity to become acquainted with true comedy. When this salon was near it close the Marchioness Sable opened one resembling it in her hotel of the Place Royale, assisted by her intellectual friend the Countes DeMaure. In her school of bon-ton. of morale and of refined literatnre theMaximes of La Rochefaucauld originated. . After the death of Madame de Rambonillet fashion and letters met at the Saturday receptions of Mile. Seudery, the authoress of tho twelve-volume novel, "Notoriety." of whom a wit of the day said, more forcibly than elegantly, that Providence must have uade her sweat ink, since she was to spread so much of it on paper. Atlectation reigned supremo at these reunions, and some of the madrigals produced there exist to this day, and bear witness to the stilted style in vogue among that class of precieux and prcsieuses of the seventeenth century. Apart and distinct stands the Hotel de Rambouillet from all other salons. The courts of Henry IV and Louis XIII, savs Van Laun. were not such as could attract a man of scrupulous morality or a woman of purity and refinement. The Hotel de Rambouillet served as a sort of relugefortho courtiers ot both sexes who chose to give the royal assemblies no more of their time than strict f liquet demanded, and it is on this account becauso the center of the literary fcociety of the age was tho center of its morality that Madame de Rambouillet deserves the warmest recognition of the students of literature, Faitii Wynne.

AKIKDUSTBIALEXPEBDIEXT

History of tho Sewing and Cooking Dc partments of Boston Public Schools, Detailed Description of the ilethods and Sjs tern of Instruction The Results Altogether Beneficial and Satisfactory. Epeclal Correspondence of tha Ini&x;apoiU Jcrarni!, Bostox, March 7. New ideas travel rapidly; so rapidly, indeed, that one might almost imagine they did not travel at all, but spring into the brain of tho people of different localities simultaneously. This is especially true when educational matters aro concerned. There is, all over the country, a desire that tbe best possible training shall bo given to the children of every community. Wherever an experiment is tried, whatever may be tho nature of that experiment, the eyes of the educators, and of all persons interested in education, are turned toward the placo of trial; for all that is now and successful in this line has immediate value. Every thinking person feels that the methods of education are in a transitory state, especial ly thoso employed in tho pubiio schools. Whatever the reason may be, the schools have not been the genuine success that they should have beeu that everybody believed they would be; they have not ac complished what it was hoped and expected they would accomplish. The results have not proven as entirely eati&factoiy as they ought to have done. No one need argue from this that the schools are valueless, nor cry out that the common-school system is a failure. By no means. As far from perfect as it is at present, it has done a splendid work, and has proved one of the most potent forces for good that the coup try possesses. Tho earnestness of thoso most interested in the lystem argues well lor its future achievement. The question just now ceems to be in what lines the educational effort shall be made; and it is being more clearly demonstrated every day that industrial training will bo included in tho school work, and will go hand in hand with the mental education. Tho strong impulse just now is toward industrial education as a part of public school work, as a practical v ar of putting both boys and girls in the right direction, bv giving tktin just tho training that will stand them well in stead when they come to faco tho necessity of putting what they have learned at school to a practical use. I do not know how it may be at Indianapolis, but in Bostou a very email proportion of the children go beyond tho grammar chool4, and not nearly all who filter in the lower grades of these through and take a diploma. The hard, grinding conditions of life compel mauy parents to withdraw their children from school to assist in the bread-winning c$ the earliest age which the law will permit. Fortunately for these children, they mnsfi attend school until they aro fourteen; tho law takes caro of so much; after that they are loft entirely to tho discretion of tho parents. You can readily understand that the school has been of little practical value to them, as far as fitting them to take caro of themselves goes. It has not even givr n them, as it should, an idea of the dignity of labor, particularly of manual labor. There is, among all classes, a sort of contempt for any work that is homely, particularly among women. Tho tendency of the immediate past has been to make girls regard too lightly the domcstio departments of labor, and to seek outsido the work of self-support. Mothers, always ambitious for their daughters, even if not wisely so, have sought to shield them from tho drudgery of their own lives, and to open an easier pathway for their young feet. This is a natural ambition, but tho fault lies in the false 6cnse of values given to household employments. They are regarded as menial, instead of being looked upon, as they should be, as the most important of all the branches of work for women to thoroughly understand. Industrial training will assist in remedying this fault. The moment any employment becomes so dignified as to be made a branch of education, then it will be regarded in its true light, and with something of an approximate notion regarding its real value. This Is not theory. Boston is proving it by the result of fuch training in her schools, a training so well established that there has been time to see theso results, since tho work, particularly in sewing and cooking, has long since passed the experimental etage. It is now twenty-five year since feewing was introduced into tho Boston pubiio kchooK but it isnotmoretbanten ortwelva years since it was systematized and taught in any but the most desultory manner. Indeed, so littlo impression did it mako during the first years that it was rarely heard of, except when there was some spasmodic movement on tho part of the committee to abolish it. But when Miss Lucretia Halo and Miss Lucia Peabodywere elected to the school board, one of tho very first things they did was to take up the sewing, and have it systematically taught. And now the eewinc exhibitions each year are one of tho features of the school life Tho time taken from the studies is very little, only two hours a week foi- each child, and the amount they learn daring the year is remarkable. It makes good needlewomen of the girls, and it is not dono at tho expense of any of their studies, for the teachers all unite in Baying that the girls go back to their books with a new relith after the sewing lesson. We older folk have found out that there is both rest and refreshment in a change of occupation, and why should not this hold true with children, who tire more easily than we and who have not tho philosophy to bear tho fatigue with equal patience! The children begin to learn sewing as 60on as they enter tho grammar-school, and they havo a leiaon a week until they graduate to enter the high-school, or, as many of them do. to leave school altogether. They aro taught to repair clothing, to darn neatly, to set a patch, to do all kinds of mending! they learn to make underclothing of all kinds, shirts, night-shirts, sheets and pillow-slips; infants' wardrobes, boys' clothes, and daring the last year in the grammar school they are taught to draught patterns, and to cut and fit dresses. A girl who ha. any aptitude at all may, on her graduation from school, be fitted to enter a Family as seamstress or go into a shop to sew. She literally has her support at her fingers' ends, and all this time sho has lost nothing in scholarship, and ranks as well in htr class as she would had there beeu no needlework. Usually one sewing-teachur will serve for a grammar school, giving half a day a week to each room. If tbe number of rooms is too large to admit of her doing; this, she may have an assistant, and that assistant may divide her time between two or three schools, giving the needed number of half days in each. Tho children bring their own work from home; or, rather, tho material for the work, the teacher cutting it and preparing it for sewing. Kach child has her own work-bag, and at the close of her sewing hours her work is folded, given to the sewing teacher, and put in her own closet under lock and key until tho next sewing day. No work may be carried home until it is completed and passes the inspection of the teacher. The same discipline is maintained in the sewing-school as in sny other ss- . sion, and the Kirls have no more liberty. ' The salary of the sewing teacher is th usual grammar-school teacher'a salary of, 1 think, tho third grade, although of this I am not quite certain, as 1 fail to find among tho reports which I have at hand a list ot salaries. If any one is at all skep- . tical regarding the practical result of this teaching. 1 wish he or she might be present, atone of the exhibits of sewing connected with any of the grammar schools of Boston, 1 am sure conversion would be immediate . and permanent. In view of the advance that hasalreadv been made in industrial edncatiou. seme cf the Bostou women who were school girls tho old Hancock School a quart-? of a century ago are fond of qua; ing Master - Allen's remark when hj , tewing was first taikod of. Master AH,:"

i r vr V"