Semi-weekly Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 23 November 1897 — Page 3

TIER LIFE IN A HAREM

ADVENTURES OF AN AMERICAN GIRL I'^IN EGYPT.

iSism London Was a GorenieM For the Children of Harft Fashft—Some Very (jtranje Customs—The Hiuband Kats and Then His Family.

... Misa Maude Loudon of San Francisco, & who recently passed through a thrilling

3

experience, tolls of [Her life'in the, harem ri of Hara Pasha' of Egypt and of her own eecape from ife.

Miss Loudon was a teacher in San Francisco confinement, she retired by physician's adTlce and took a long sea voyage. She de•s cided to visit her uncle, a physician, who

Her health suffering from much Nual

Lad settled in Cairo, Egypt. While Miss Loudon was in Cairo her S- nnole heard from one of his patients, a rich native, that he desired a European or

Ainerioan governess for his children. a Hara Pasha was very rich. He had 13 children, and, for a wonder, only one wife. Ho spoke French fluently, and it was & thought that his household would be a pleasant one for her to spend a few months js in, at 100 francs a month, with board and lodging. Hara Pasha lived at Maarich, a favorite suburb.

My employer," says'Miss Loudon, "was 4 a man of 40, tall, pale and very dark. He wore the conventional dress of European gentlemen. Only the fez marked him as the oriental. In the afternoon that followed the morning oi Haru Pasha's first visit he conducted me to his home. Beginning then and there to be one of the female members of his harem, I was not permitted to ride in the ordinary railway coaohes, but was given a scat in a compartment set aside for women. My new abode was situated near the railroad and looked like a convent. A high gray wall surrounded the entire premises. The pasha took from his pocket a key, with which he unlocked a small iron bound door in the wall. This door separated me from the world beyond, for during the next six months I was not permitted to again cross that threshold. "Hara Pasha went in search of his wife and children to introduce them to me. One after the other the members of his family made their appearance. With an exaspcr itting clatter of her Chinese shoes the lady of the house entered the room. Sho at once informed me with great pride that she was the mother of eight sons. Not a word was said about the five girls who also owed their existence to her. Mme.

Hara Pasha was petite and pale and rather sickly looking. She wore a long black gown, with wide sleeves. The day was warm and this was the only garment that covered her body. She welcomed me in The Arabian tongue, first touching my hand and then her forehead. "The children came finally, first the oldest daughter, a consumptive girl of 14. .She was arrayed in a sky blue gown made like a long Mother Hubbard. On her head she wore a rod turban, similar to the black one on her mother's head. The eldest son was 18. Ho attended a school conducted by Europeans, and was therefore dressed like our schoolboys and comparatively clean in his habits. The dresses of the smaller children were filthy, almost, full of holes, and their faces had not been touched by water that day. All were barelooted but an 8-year-old lnd, whose feet wallowed in the Immense slippers of his father. "When the entire harem had been presented to me, Hara Pasha departed to eat his dinner alone in his own rooms. Only the eldest son was now and then permitted to share bis fathor's meal. The dinner .consisted of ten courses and at least an hour and a half was consumed by the master of the house in eating it. The two younger SOBS waited upon him, running ~Taok and forth between the kitchen and the dining room. Whan the pasha had finished, we sat down to eat. I shall never forgot my first Arabian meal. We gathered around a long table, in the center of whioh was placed a steaming dish of mutton stow and rice. They permitted me to havo a plate, a knife and a fork. The others hold in their hands a large slice of the heavy, soggy Egyptian bread. Mine. Pasha dug with both hands down into the stew and brought forth pieces of ment, which she distributed among the children. When the children had finished what had been given to them, they fished around the dish with their own hands.

When it was time to retire, Mme. Pasha conduoted me to the children's bedroom. There were two beds—one for me, the other for the five smallest children, two girls and throe boys. For the first time in my life I shuddered, when I became aware that the Arabians do not disrobe, but sleep in the garments they have worn all day. Imagine the surprise of those children when they saw me undress. They rushed at onoe to their mother to inform her of this fact. I heard her pacify them, telling them Europeans had different customs. A mosquito bar was thrown over each bed, and this was tucked under the mattress after retiring. '11 soon became aooustouied to the new mode of living. I wore long, airy gowns, learned to squat on the floor and ate with nppetite what was put before mo. My duties were very light. Parents, as well as children, had little U6e for knowledge beyoud learning to talk English and French. I don't know how long I might have remained in that harem but for an occurrence that drove me back to my relatives and thence to my native land. "Hara Pasha, who was already attentive and polite to me, became extraordinarily amiable. His amiability grew so marked that his wife took exception to it and began to let me feel the sting of her jealousy. 1 feared for my life, for those who are familiar with harem practices know that Arabian women do not hesitate to remove tholr rivals by poison. The pasha sent his wife on a voyage to her parents. Soon after her departure he dispatched one of the servants to me and bade me oome to hK wilon. Fearing the worst, 1 took one of the children with rao. but he would not have it so, and immediately sent the little girl away. I resented hiotfami'Jarity and declared to him emphatically that American women ex pet: ted to be treated with courtesy. "I left the salon indignantly and busied BiTself with the children. In the after-

PROGRESS OF PARIS.

them has had many volumes devoted to its gradual development or final disappearance and transformation to modern uses.

The history pf the Cathedral of Notre Dame from the layirig of the first stone by Pope Alexander III in the age of our Henry II and Becket down to the final "restoration" by M. Violletle Due and the history of all its annexes and dependences, Archeveohe, Hotel Dieu, together with an exact account of all its carvings, glass, reliefs, eta,' would be a history of art itself. The same would be true if one followed out the history ot the foundations of St. Germain des Pres, of St Victor, of St. Martin des Champs, of the Temple and of St. Genevieve.

Two or three of these enormous domains would together. occupy a space

vvhole

°f

the

ori|inaJ

site. They contained magnificent churches, halls, libraries, refectories and other buildings and down to the last century were more or lews in a state of fair preservation or active existence. Of them all it seems that St." Victor, on the site of the Halle aux Vins, and the Temple, on tho site of the square of that name, have entirely disappeared. But of the others interesting parts still remain. Of the 11 great abbeys and 20 minor convents which Paris still had at the revolution, nono remains complete, and J.ho great majority have left nothing but names to tho new streets.—Fortnightly Review. ..

WILD BILL A SOLID MAN.

The Body of the Famous Desperado Turned to Stone Lone Ago. The olimate of Colorado is so exceedingly dry in tho greater portion of the state that owllnury objects, such as potatoes, vegetables of various sorts and even small animals, petrify when covered with sand. A considerable source of revenue to the guides and venders in the Grand canyon and other famous resorts is tho sale of petrified wood and other material to tourists. Human bodies have been known to undergo the petrifying process in numerous instances.

The body of Wild Bill, the famous desperado, is today solid &tone. TJe was buried in a sandy country near TelJurlde, and about four years ago his friends decided to put up a monument to his memory. Thoy went out to hi6 grave, which is In the open prairie, and one of the party, an old scout, was taken along to exaotly locate where he was buried. Tho sand had shifted and blown In great heaps, as it does all though that country, and the scout had a gooddoal of difficulty in absolutely locating the spot. Finally he struck a mound that he said had Wild Bill under it.

Owing to the uncertainty of tho situation and bis hesitancy, the party deoided to dig down and see whether ho was right. They didn't want to put a monument over a sand heap unless it had Wild Bill under it. So they dug down. Presently the spade ran intc^a rock—a scarce thing in that country. They shoveled all around it and soon revealed the petrified image of Wild Bill as perfect as the day he died, with not a trace of decomposition. Even the clothes and shoes were turned to stone.

Some of the party wanted to take the body up for purposes of exhibition. But one of Bill's old pals—Shorty Jake, as he was callcd—remarked that the first man who tried to do ao would find a bed in the hole that Bill filled. So the idea was abandoned. But if some adventurous museum man wants the greatest drawing card on earth he can find it under Wild Bill's tombstone.—Washington Post.

Catohing the Dragon Fly.

"One of the greatest amusements for the obildron of Japan is catching the dragon fly," said Dr. W. F. Taylor of Boston, who has spent several years in Japan. "Japan 1b a land of children, and thousands of them literally put in several weeks every nutumn in capturing dragon flies and tying kites to them for the fun of seeing them fly. Soon after the turn of the sun In tjie afternoon hundreds and thousands of huge dragon flies busy them selves flying over the rlceflelds and gardens, catching inseots and gnats. "The Japanese boys carefully saturate the end of a bamboo with tor and start out for the fun. Thoy first hold the bamboo up to attract tho unsuspecting dragons to take a rest. In a moment the boy gives the bamboo a twist and puts the tar end into so many motions that it is almost impossible for the creature to avoid it. The boys are so expert at the business that I havo seen t»em chase a fly that had got much ahead of them and suoceed in sticking the dragen fly to the reed. When onoe on the tar end of the pole, there is a miserable future for tho captives. They aro tied together and carried around in the ohase. Then a string is tied to each ono, and a small piece of paper, serving as a kito, which the poor flies aro required to sail. They fly away, but of courso soon get caught into a tree or brush and die of starvation."—St. Louis Globe-Democrat.

How Would He Spell It?

R. A. Barnet tells a good story at the expense of Bernard Shaw, the English critic. It seems that the latter was commenting upon the limitations put upon him in his Saturday Review work and complaining that he really had no opportunity to express his opinions in tho English press. It was at a club in London that ho started upon a tirade against the narrowness of the publishers of England —their unwillingness to sanction his socialistic notions. It was to Max Beerbohm that he broke out as follows "lam going to publish a magazine some of these day? which shall print my opinions on all the topics of the day. I havo enough of them and to spare. On art, literature, philosophy, music, the drama, socialism, religion and every other subject this magazine shall reflect my opinions. I shall write every line of it too. The experiment might fail instanter. but it shall at least have a trial." "What will you call your periodical?" asked Max Beerbohm. "I'll give it a concise and appropriate title by naming it after myself," said Mr. Shaw. "How will you spell it?" Mr. Beerbohm inouired innocently.—New York Telegram.

Tinned Food.

The reason 'tinned foods so frequently cause trouble when eaten, especially if they have been kept open a few hours during tho hot weather before consumption,

noon their father went as usual to Cairo. js go niuch of tho tinned foods in the It was my opportunity for escape. I told cheaper markets are derived from old the servants that the master of tho house g^jpg" stores. A ship upon sailing lays had ordered me to follow their mistreas to jSJ certain stores of tinned foods. It often her parents' home, packed my trunk and happens that these are not touched on the rode to Cairo in a donkey chaise. went at once to the home of my uncle, who received me with open arms. In a few d«vs the pasha sent me the salary still duo me. About my sudden departure he never complained. My life in the Egyptian harem will always be the most remarkable and thrilling experience of my existence."—St Louis Post-Dispatch.

voyage, and they may go another voyage or not, but ultimately they are sold as old stores. The tins are then cleansed, recolored, revarnished and relabeled with 4lean, fresh lubels and resold. So again und again quantities of tinned foods may be resold year after year, and some of these come upon the general market and are sold in seaport and inland towns.—Dr. J. F. J. Sykes.

|t I* Ancient In Years and Etnotiahy Modern In Development, Although some cities in Italy present Biore vivid and fascinating periods of examples, there is perhaps no other city in iirmly convinced that I am one of them. Europe where the continuity of modern I If I am in a crowd of people and a dog Civilisation for at least seven ceuturies jot cat is noar, it will come naturally to

ran be traced so fuily in its visible record. From the tone of Louis the Stout, A. D. 1108, Paris has been the rich and powerful metropolis of a rich and enlarging state, And from that day to tBIs there is hardly a single decaAo vtfcicb has not left some fragment or other of its work for our eye*

The history ef each of its great founda tioiis, civil ctud ecclesl&stioal, would fill a ana.i».oifcd nisrost cvejy csc gZ

People Who Attract Animals. I firmly believe that it is given to some few liunjan beings to understand the feelings and instincts of animals, and I am as

me without making the slightest movement. Why this is the cajse I cannot say unless I admit that there fa developed in me another sense whose eiistenoo animals at once jyseeive. But there Is (In fact. If you don't admit my explanation, you must deny the existence of what is as evident as the light from the sua.—Sarah Bernhardt in I/V*rriew in Westminster BudsrV

SIX CENT COTTON.

THE LOWEST PRICE KNOWN FOR FORTY YEARS.

Claimed That the Product Is More Than the World Can Coasnaae—Some of the Canses That Are Responsible For the

Present PHee.

With spot ootton selling at 6.06 cents and Ootober deliveries below 6 cents, the lowest price since March 1, 1896, comparing with 6.66 cents March 1 and In February of that year and in November, 1894, the lowest price ever known for 40 years, the condition of the cotton growers commands sympathy. On the faoe of things the speculative advance to an average of 8.01 for tho entire month of August and 8.25 Aug. 80 has not benefited producers, for If the small deliveries in September commanded prices indicated by a dally average of 7.13 cents at New Y5rk the much heavier movement in October has commanded only 6.36 oents, according to the daily average thus far, with a prospect that the heavy deliveries of November and December may bring less than 6 cents here, as in 1894 and also In the first two months of 1895. It is easy to soy that the planters have again raised too much cotton for their own good—more than the world can consume. That they have been systematically misled into producing too much by false reports of acreage and yield, for which they are also in part responsible, is well known. The government could not render a greater servico to them than by securing absolutely trustworthy accounts of acreage and yield. But behind this difference there are others less often observed.

The fall of print cloths to the lowest price on record and the dull market for most other cotton goods of late are the natural consequences of a production in the last cotton year greatly exceeding the demand. Persistent statements from time to time that the stock of unsold goods had been greatly reduced contrast with the record published by The Financial Chronicle showing that actual consumption during the last ootton year reached 2,738,000 bales of 500 pounds, only 5,000 bales below the greatest consumption in any year, although the demand for goods was undeniably far below the maximum. This production of goods was 41.2 per cent greater than it was ten-years ago in this country, which is far beyond the increase in population, so that even if full prosperity had existed the consumption of such a quantity of goods could not have been expected. Exports have indeed increased nearly 50 per cent in yards during the last ten years, but at the most this increase is less than a thirtieth of the product of goods and not an eighth of the increase in products. Every one knows the fact that most mills have been kept running as far as possible In order to hold together the working forces and in the hope that expansion of the demand would soon give relief.

But this is exactly what has happened in other countries. The population of the world outside the United States has not increased as much as 8 per cent in a decade, but British consumption of cotton in manufacture has increased 10.5 percent during the last ten yeara, and continental consumption 28.3 per cent. If there was hope that the United States would provide a larger market for goods, it turned out that American increase in goods imported was not a fifth of the American increase in goods exported. This was insignificant compared with the fall of 877,000,000 yards in British exports to India, which might have been expected in view of tho famine and the plague, and yet British consumption of cotton during the last year was within 11,000 bales of the largest ever known. The fact that India has nearly doubled its consumption in ten years, adding 451,000 bales, or nearly a seventh of British consumption, is not to be overlooked. With continental mills also adding 1,662,000 bales to their consumption in the same time, which is more than half the maximum of British consumption, it is not strange if unsold goods have accumulated and markets become clogged.

The great difficulty is illustrated in the rapid growth of cotton spinning at the south. There was not a lack of cotton goods in America for all demands ten years ago. Yet the southern consumption of cotton in manufacture has increased 166.5 per cent in that time, or 601,000 bales, and it inevitably follows that goods are forced upon the market beyond their needs, just as in outside markets by the competition between British and continental mills. Thus the great increase in cotton manufaoture at the south, by depressing prlccs of goods within tho last year to the lowest ever known, has helped to depress the price of cotton at the south. In the race for production of the cheapest possible goods by the cheapest labor the south has an advantage as to the coarser fabrics, which constitute nearly half of the entire produotion and almost the whole of the exports, while northern mills one after another find it best to seek other markets in the manufacture of finer cotton or other fabrics. It was to afford larger opportunities in that direction that duties on finer grades of cotton goods, on linens and some other fabrics were raised by tho new tariff, and if these presently lessen the pressure in American markets of the cheaper cottons southern planters as well as southern manufacturers will find themselves benefited.—New York Tribune.

THE PREACHER'! SALARY.

An Evangelist ItEakes a Contract Which Pays Him Very Well. In certain sections of the United States, notably in those where the religious expression is tho strongest and the congregations the poorest, and these characteristics are always combined, there is an ever present conflict as to what the preacher ought to have and what ho is going to get, and it was on this subject a visiting preacher talked the other Sunday at dinner with a reporter. "At one of my appointments where I had been called," he was saying, "to conduct a revival I heard a couple of the members talking, though they did not think 1 was near enough to hear.

get?' said one. 'All he can raise of course,' said the other. 'He wears good clothes, and they've got to be paid for.' 'Yes, and I reckon we might as well make up our minds to pay for 'em.' "The conversation was becoming personal, and before it got too much so and I would bo placed where it would be decidedly embarrassing I broke in: "'Now, look here, brethren, you don't have to worry about what you are going to pay me. You don't have to pay me a cent unless you want to, and I am not here to get money for my work. StilL I have to live, and I'll agree to this —every time you get a lick in my sermons while I am here you just pay me a niokel, and if I don't hit you at all it won't cost you a cent. Now, is that fair? Is It a bargain?' "They agreed to it with great unanimity, and I went ahead with my preaching, doing the best I knew how and praying for strength to tall the truth to the people and to help them to be better men and women, and I kept it up for a week and was jpady to start in on the second week, whan one of my men came to me behind the little ltje meeting house where I was reading xay Bgbta. 'So you're goitag to preach another week?' be aaiu anxiously. "Yes.' said I. 'Well, for tbe Lord's sake, Brother Hudson,' he said in the most pleading

TERRE HAUTE EXPRESS. TUESDAY MORNING. NOVEMBER 2a 1397 3

tones, 'I wish you'd quit and go home. You've hit mo so many licks already that I'll have to sell the only pair of mules I've got and a yoke of yearling oattle to pay yon what I owe you already, and if you striy'ancther week I'll have to give up the farm and put a chattel mortgage on the old woman and the children.' "Of course," laughed the preacher, "it wasn't quite as bad as he made it appear, but I had made a good friend of him, and ho not only paid his share willingly, but Insisted on my coming again and staying Nrico as long."—Washington Star.

CROSSING THE EQUATOR.

U« Uncanny Kxperlenoe of Mark Twain 6pm That Occasion. 0peaktog of Mark Twain's work, "Following the Equator," a reviewer says: "Here is a bit from Mark Twain's diary which may prov8 interesting: 'Sept. 7.— Crossed the equator. In the distance it looked like a blue ribbon stretched across the ocean. Several passengers kodaked it. We had no fool ceremonies, no fan tas tics, no horseplay. All that sort of thing has gone out. In old times a sailor dressed as Neptune used to come in over the bows with his suit and lather up and shave everybody who was crossing the equator for the first time, and then cleanse these unfortunates by swinging them from the yardarm and ducking them three times in the sea. 'Sept. 8—Sunday.—We are moving so nearly south that we cross only about two meridians of longitude a day. This morning wo were in longitude 178 west from Greenwich and 57 degrees west from San Francisco. Tomorrow we shall be close *o the center of the globe—the one hundred and eightieth degree of west longitude and the one hundred and eightieth degree of east longitude. 'And then we must drop out a day— lose a day out of our lives, a day never to be found again. We shall all die one day earlier than from the beginning of time wo were foreordained to die. We shall be a day behindhand all through eternity. We shall always bo saying to the other angels, "Fine day today," and they will be always retorting, "But it isn't today it's tomorrow." We shall be In a state of confusion all the time and shall never know what true happiness is. 'Next Day.—Sure enough, it has happened. Yesterday it was Sept. 8, Sunday. Today, per the bulletin boards at the head of the companionway, it is Sept. 10, Tues'day. There is something uncanny about it," and uncomfortable. In fact, nearly unthinkable ar.d wholly unrealizable when one comes to consider it. While we were crossing the one hundred and eightieth meridian it was Sunday in the stern of the ship where my family were, and Tuesday in the bow where I waa. They were there eating the half of a fresh apple on the 8th, and I was at the same tjme eating the other half of it on the 10th, and I could notice how stale it was already. The family were the same age that they wero when I left them five minutes before, but I was a day older now than I was then.'"—Detroit Free Press.

Died at His Post.

Mathieu Donzelot is still remembered In Paris as one of the most faithful and courageous men who ever served a paper as a reporter. His last assignment and what oame of it is told by M. Trimm in Le Petit Journal.

One day a riot was apprehended, and Donzelot was sent to the Pantheon to report tho events in that quarter. Already the stones were flying, and the lawless mob had begun to tear up tl)p streets and barricade them.

Ono of Donzelot's friends saw him as he was running by, and said to him: "What aro you doing here? Run and save yourself!"

Donzelot made no reply, and again his friend urged him to leave so dangorous a spot. "Iam not going to move," he said, "but as you are going, kindly take this copy along with you to tho paper. You will save me tinio."

An hour passed, and the disorder was at its height. The mob had already begun to clash seriously with the authorities. Suddenly the Garde Nationalo fired a volley, and Donzelot fell, his breast pierced by a bullet. A surgeon rushed up to him. "You are hurt?" he asked. 'Yes," replied Donzelot, "seriously, I think. I cannot use my pencil." "Never mind yourpencil," returned the surgeon sharply. Tho question is to save your life.'' "Bon't be in a hurry," returned Donzelot quietly. "To each man his own duty. Mine is to get the story, and you must help me. Acre, wriie at the foot of this page this postscript: '2:80 p. m.—At the fire of the troops three men fell wounded, and one Vvas killed.' "Why, whioh one is killed?" asked the doctor.

I '.'I am," replied the reporter, and he fell back dead.

5

'"7* Yorkshire Was All Riffht. In ,a market town smokeroom some farmers were having their ovening glass. Among them was a Yorkshireman, known to be a terribly keen hand at driving a bargain.

As the evening wore on ho got a bit "warped," and one of the company took advantage of this to make an exchango of horses with him, which, was, however, only effected after a lot of hagging—"the horses to be taken over exactly as they are, with all faults."

As soon as the deal had been ratified by shaking hands and each man standing drinks around, all the company joined heartily in the laugh against the "tike" when tho other man said: "Sam, I've dono you this time. My hotse is a dead 'un—died this morning!" "Oh, no, you haven't," replied the Yorkshireman, with a knowing look. "I know all about that. My horse died this afternoon, and. what's more, I've taken off his shoes!"-^London Answers.

The Artist's Reception.

A notv very eminent artist used in hig earlier days to dress in so Bohemian a fashion that it might almost be called disreputable. His first big chanco in life

'I wondor what that fellow expects to came when Lord C. invited him down to

his country mansion to paint a view of the house. When he arrived at the house, the door was opened to him by the butler. "I am M\ ," said the artist. "I have come Siwn to paint the house."

The butler surveyed the visitor's shabby clothes and medicated. "That's funny," he said at length. "His lordshipain't said anythink to me about having tho house done hup.''—Strand Magazine. I

Gets Left.

"Shalt we play for a little money, Miss Smart?" he said tenderly, as they sat down to a game of cards, "or simply for love?" "Oh, I think it's wrong to play for money, even if the amount is trifling." "Then we will play for love?" "Yes." "And if I win, Miss Smart?" he said, still more tenderly. "Then you don't get anything, of course. Cu^t, please."—Pick Me Up. •, fA

Favorite Names.

An English paper which has been taking a ballot on the subject of favorite names for boys and girls received 4,600 replies. A list of 31 boys' and 33 girls' names was submitted, and the voting •howed Harold and Dorothy to be the twe most popular appellations.

The Australian dog and tbe Egyptian ghpipfoard dog never bark.

APPEAR ON MENUS.

BUT THEY ARE RARELY THE GENUINE BLUE POINTS.

Soma Cartons and Interesting: Facts About Our Friend the Oyster—Some Odd Ideas and PerfaraoanoM of Old Time Oys%er-

Had you been Jborn *& oysfer you would stand a chance of being *sarly anything in the oyster category, from a "half shell.' served with trimmings" to some plutocrat to a six inch dish rag sort of a bivalve who goes slashing about the country in "tin" until oonsumed by some "oyster supper" community or swallowed whole by Bome

a

/m Via lafa \o KnIV"

/M»

a matured age his fate is "bulk" or "tin and his destiny obscure. I There is n« phrase which belongs ex-' clusively to oysters which means as much and as little as tho two words "Blue Point." It means nothing to oyster dealers—much to consumers. There was a time when the half shell oysters wero lar-1 ger than now. The change from the moderate sized oyster to the smallest to be had came with the name Blue Point. The original Blue Point oyster—an oyster grown off Blue Point, N. Y.—was an innovation. It was smaller, more tender and more easily eaten as f&r as handling goes. Thus it became popular and the name something to oonjure with. For a time and today, in fact, Blue Point suggests the best oyster obtainable. But today a genuine Blue Point oyster Is as rare as jurtlce. The name, however, still stays, and as only perhaps one peraon In ten thousand can distinguish the genuine by the flavor, the oyster wortd is quite safe in retaining it. The people who, our own Barnum declared, love to be humbugged go on paying a fauoy prioe for the name Blue Point and eating oysters from Con-, necticut, New Jersey, Groat South bay, Staten Island sound, and, to save the curse, ag occasional one or perhaps two from off Blue Point. If you oan distinguish a Plymouth Book hem's egg, when I fried, from that of any oth$r hen, you have a chanoe of recognizing a Blue Point.

Nothing or very little at least can bo learned from the shell. Oyster growers,

control to a large degree the shape of the

oyster shell. It is all a matter of how they

are planted. If too thickly, they are crowued and assume cramped shapes, but if oare I

is taken and they are given room they

grow round and shapely. There are but a

few varieties in which the natural shape of the shell will expose the fraud if it is claimed to be a Blue Point. Oysters, furthermore, are distinguished by the top shell, the peculiar marking telling the locality from which they come. The undershell, which is smaller, flatter and smoother, tells little thus as oysters are served on the lower shell again the consumer is forced to take the oyster as he finds it and believes it is a Blue Point. After all there is no harm in the deception, as there is but little if any difference in oysters at the age when served on tho half shell. There is one exception, however. The "condalu" half shell oyster oan be distinguished instantly, but as there are but few of them grown—^the variety being vary rare—those whioh are grown seldom if ever reach anything but a private club or family trade, they do not figure in the oysters used by the general public.

Oystermen—the old time, regulation oystermen—have a few hereditary habits which remind one of the headlong course of the drumfish. W*y back in the early oyster days, long before the oldest of tfcs present generation were born, for some mysterious reason oystermen transplanted their oysters—that is, they took them from tho ground on which they were originally planted and moved them to another locality. This requires the same amount of labor as getting them to market. Why it was done no one knows, and for that roason it is still done. Ono or two of the more thinking have, in spite of the scowls and dire predictions of their brothers of tha craft, discontinued the transplanting of oysters, but in spite of the fact that the oysters thrive better the old heads refuse to follow the example. In fact, they hardly speak to this new creature, who does not follow all the old legends and think him their enemy.

It may sound odd to speak of "drinking" oysters. One would assume their opportunity to quench their thirst waa fairly good, but oysters must be'' drinked.'' "drank" or "watered"—as oystermen say —before they are fit for market. The "drinking" process is simply a matter of fattening, or, to be more truthful, inflating.

When oysters are "raided" (taken from the beds to the air), they are dumped aboard of the sloops, and when a load is obtained the sloop sails fer some fresh water stream. At the mouth of these streams •re floats, into which the oysters are dumped at full tide. As the tide ebbs and the fresh water from the stream gradually freshens the water in the floats, the oyster opens. He appoars to bo drinking, but instead is simply allowing the fresh water to wash out the salt. When this isoompleted, the oyster closes. The fwah water causes it to swell, sometimes till the shell gapes open. Thus the oyster becomes plump, and when opened looks fat and fit.

Of course there is a reason fer always serving the oyster on the lower shell. The top shell is ooncave, and tho lower one, besides being about a 0lrd smaller, is fiat. Therefore, when the oyster, which fills the larger shell, is laid upon ^he flat lower shell he assumes aldermanic proportions.

Oyster spawn resembles the soaies .of small fish more than anything else. They have life when no larger than a tack head, and at onoe fasten to the nearest faster shell. There they stay until by their growth, which at an early age is rapid, they force each other loose. Then for protection they fasten to each other, and it is

in this form of odd shaped bunches of :. oysters no larger than a nickel they an taken foT seed. The grower, who bnyt seed by tho bushel, (separates the '»ysuri from each other anil dumps overboard upon a certain ground which hy. bn» staked, generally from 10 to 20 feet watar. It is then the oyster begins h:a in dividual struggle for existence. Ho enemies to anticipate and balk as well at to dig for his food. For the first oil months after he is taken fixfcn the shoals and placted in deep water he is cxtre tnols busy.—Washington Star.

THE IRISH SCHOOLMASTER.

Cany Stories Told of Hint In Regional Where He Prevailed. In the days when teachers were fevr and far between an old fashioned Irish school-

far inland rustic who imagines the eating master went the rounds frcm district to of raw oysters to be but a modifies, form

of 6word swallowing. It is all a matter of when and at what age an oyster is caui^bt. If In his youth, he is served in state on the half shell. If later, he goes in the soup. If a few months later, he is fried or

dlstrict 0f him

many atcries Rie still

told In the regions through which he traveled. He did an excel/TOt work on the whole and trained in the "threa B's" mafiy men who aftervraid became prominent in public life, bat this b?oad Irish accent

steamed. But if ho escapes the take until occasion of m*»ny laughable scenes

bet.voen him and his pupils. On one ocor••ion the master examined his sckool from the spelling book before the committeemen. He always called the boys by their last names, pronouncing their Christian names last, as in a roll call. "Brown, Payter!" the masterT*onted«*

Peter Brown stepped forth totemhUnsly. "Phat Is tho pleyrul of the wurrud •futr

Peter had no knowledge of ^ay sueh word as "fut," but he answered** Kttdomt "Fu*sl" "Wrong ye aire!" tb«nd«pd the master. "The plyural of 'fnV i| 'fate.* Sit down. Bill, Jeems, sh'fewd $pp!"

James Bell rose. 4:"Diffoinethe wurrud 'lake.' "A laXe is a large body of viat$r" "Bloo&heads ye"all aire the day K' As ed the master angrily. "Shure, theaj, den* yer own sinse till ye that a 'lfke' a hole in a booketo' watherf Nlxft b'y— Dooly, Moichaell"

Miohacl Dooley stepped up with a confident and somewhat roguish gleam In fefll gray eyes. Ho was the son of a recent settler of the schiolmaster's nationality.

The master quickly perceived the knowing look in the tfoy's eye. "An whoy do ye luk,at me wud the earner o' yer oi, Dooly, Moiob$ep?" he exclaimed. "Is i^ihat ye think I'd Ike putuF*

tlfr

6ch

^im^.

batoafo^

he to supp]

^8

ln llps 8h,th*gethte

v«*y tightly

^ave utl" said the

aBd

^ine ra

bhfeiteamhnulbh." This real word from the Irish laoguage. which means "tnutjjressions," waa to.i much evon for the special knowledge of the bright Irish-Amerioan boy, and "X)ooly, Moiohael" went down with the rest.

The committeemen wwe oonvinoed that they had a schoolmaster of wonderful erudition and capacity.—Scottish Axneri-

Qoeer Facts A boat Heat, and Light. The rays of beat and'Ught are quite independent of each other In their ability to penetrate different substances. For illustration, glass allows tho.-sun's heat to pass through as readily As does tho rays of light, and that without beating the glass too. If the glass be coated with lampblnok, however, the rays of light are arrested, but the beat passes through as before, not a single degree's difference in the latter phenomenon bdiivg noticeable. Then, again, both heat and light pass through water, providing it is clear. Ono of tho odditiesintblacosnectioaisthis: Although the heat and light paas through water in Its normal state, the addition of a little powdered alum, •which readily dissolves without leaving the lotfat murkiness, will arrest the rays of heat to such an extent as to almost immediately raise the temperature of the water to a perceptible degree, yet the light continues to pass through as before.

Icc, like glass, al&o^transmits both heat and light. ®r. Sutherland, In "Observations (Jpon the Ioebexgs Of Baffin's Bay," says: "SeveraKpiocesof.grapite weeefonod deeply imbedded in lee without any communications with ojajhide air. Thifesc wece all surrounded with whflfewight be tKrnMft an atmosphere of whCer." The erateaation of such an odjlity is this: Vlj* heat passing through th6*ioe had beeto absorbed by the stones until their temperature had been raised to a desrde sufficient bo molt tho loo around them.—St. Louis Republic

Love Will Find a Way.'

A friend of mine out in Omaha has a daughter, and Ihat^augbter hqs among other girlish trinketfe a sweetheart who Is rendered doubly dear to her by the fact that her parents have forbidden her to see him. He is, to be sore, a very casamenplace peraon, but no girl can resist a xaaa her parents have forbidden her to set, you know. This parMaoiar girl is In Washington now, for safe keeping, in a private school, where incoming and outgoing letters are read by a stern faced teacher. I went to see her the other day just after tho mail was in. She had received a letter from a schoolgirl friend in Omaha, anl there wasn't a noun or pronoun of tho masculine gender in the'Whole of it. The girl read itdemwcJy and showed It to me. Then we want to her room. The doer was no sooner closed than she flew to her ourlIng ton£», heated them, held tbem close to the written sheet and read with delight the yellow letters in a masculine band which appeared between the lines and faded t$ain as tbe paper cooled. The moral of this Is that love will find a way, nnd so long-as oblorkle of eOpper In solution is to be had I advise evvty keeper of a girls' school te toast all letters wall before she delivers thorn.—Washington Potffc.

Minsehah* meaos ''Laughing Water." The Indian werd Is AflnncMja, the Frenchman, Hennepin, having mlstahen tbe sennd.

THE Xj"FT TDEH-.

POPULAR SHOPPING CENTER OF TERRE HAUTE.

Cyclone of Bargains for Tomorrow

WEDNESDAY

Creat Inducements to Money Savers.

THREE-BIG SPECIALS-THREE.

9 A. xxx. to XX m., We will sell io yards extra Heavy Brown Muslin for 39c worth 6c per yard.

lp.zn.to3p. m.? We will give you your choice of 500 pair Kid Gloves worth 98 $1.25 and $1.50a pair, this price during these hours only 49c a pair.

3 p.m. to S p. m., We have selected 50 Dress Patterns worth from $2 to $4.50 and sisss will give you your choice of these including lining, for $2.19.

These Prices are for the hours advertised only. See us for Cloaks. Don't forget the day—Wednesday."

Sifftil

|:i

THE LEADER,

A. LEVINSON, PROP.

SSI fillt

'Sltt

6IO WABASH AVE.