AFTER THE CALL.
Blic counts her conquests all as naught
Before tills crowning one
The love tliat seemed to conic unsought ,
Like eplendors of the sun ;
And every word Le spoke to-night
Is pravcn on her brain
In letters of auroral Jiglit ,
Forever to remain.
She lays her lips upon the hands
Ills fervent lips have kissed ;
And o'er her clear eyes she stands
There comes a Lappy mist
What was her charm In form or face
O'er others at the ball
That he should do her such a tjrace
As choose her inld them all ?
SLe casts her shining silks aside ,
And robes her for her rest ;
Her only dream till morning tide ,
"He loves me loves me best. "
O virgin faith I O face so sweet ?
0 heart that pulses true !
Will any man's heart ever beat
As loyally for you ?
*
He leaves the ball , but not for rest ,
And not for faithful dream ;
Life needs , it seems , another zest
Where Lais reigns supreme.
Fill higher the beaker with champagne ,
And crown the board with flpw'rs ;
A husband may not know again
Such gay bohemian hours.
Not his the love that lives for aye ,
. ot his the loyal troth ;
His passion lasts a summer day ,
He swears a traitor's oath.
So take the mortal mid the strife
Of hymeneal plans ,
That Jovis is all a woman's life ,
And only half a man' . * .
1L Savile Clarice.
COOTSTOFS COURTSHIP.
A Brief In 'JL'liree Sheets.
BY FAJfXIE AYMAll MATTHEWS.
John Gordon Anneslcy , Earl of Con
iston , sat in the cabin of the Brighton
boat , reading his evening paper. He
liad just folded and put in his pocket a
long letter from his friend and partner ,
'
S'ir Campbell Frazier , in which that
gentleman announced that affairs at
the Ranch of San Rosalie were going
on perfectly , but that he must beg his
"dear old Jack" to put off his sailing
date a fortnight , as he now found that
he could not be in New York possibly
before the close of the month ( Octo
ber ) or later.
Couiston was in the midst of a frown
over the piece of intelligence as he
glanced over the paper. He hated
America and the Americans ; he longed
to put the sea between himself and this
displeasing nation ; he yearned for
"shooting" and the Highlands ; he
I scorned the gayeties of all the Ameri
can watering places , and stopped at
thePavilion _ solely , as he openly avow
ed , because Brighton was an English
name for a place , and for the other
reason that here he was within an hour
of Pier J58 , North River , and could step
on board a Guion boat at almost a mo
ment's warning.
Coniston , therefore , chafed under the
infiictio'n of an additional fortnight in
the laud of his loathing. Albait the
Ranch of San Rosalie was adding a con
siderable number of thousands to his
income , he still just at this particular
moment wished it at the bottom of the
Red Sea.
Perhaps , too , he mingled with the
aillictions of the exile some memories
of Lady Cicely Howard , and the strange
penchant he had had for her during the
last London season.
However this may be , Coniston's va
cant eyes atthis juncture took in a very
neat little figure as it advanced in the
cabin ; it was followed by another a
plump middle-aged lady's figure , much
burdened with shawls and wraps , and
evidently in deadly peril of a draught ,
for before seating itself , both the neat
little figure and the plump duenna ex
amined carefully the fastenings of all
adjacent windows.
"This one seems tightly closed ,
Aunt Dorinda , " the girl said , in her
clear , light voice.
"Horrible American tone , calculated
to lacerate a fog ! " mentally comment
ed his lordship.
"No , Polly , no ; I am sure "
"Polly ! ye gods ! " soliloquized the
carl. "Suggestive solely of comic
opera , milkmaids and parrots. And
she has short hair ! he never could
abide a short haired woman. And she
was small. Small women had always ,
from youth up , constituted his pet aver
sion ! Dressed in brown ; brown as a
color was distressing , in fact it was no
color at all ! " Coniston had all his na
tion's prejudice in favor of brilliant
hues.
She is alert , bright , vivacious ; all
that a woman should not be ; what a
contrast to Cicely , who was the perfec
tion of languor dreaminess and re
pose ! and yet Cicely was sometimes
rather of a bore.
He wondered if this young person
was a bore ? Now that he inspected
her , he observed , that she had a certain
reticence of face and manner that was
wholly un-American. She had seen
him looking at her , of course. By
Jove ! where was his paper ? on the
floor ! and yet for some inscrutable rea
son she did not return his gaze square
ly out of those large eyes of hers. It
was strange ! It struck Coniston as a
remarkable fact , worth recording , that
he had encountered one American girl
ivho declined to reciprocate the delicate
attentions of his eyes.
Why ! there came Bradford ! such a
capital fellow for an American.
Bradford knew her.
She smiled at Bradford and allowed
him to sit beside her , and gave him her
wrap to hold.
To be sure , Coniston remembered
that he had always thought Bradford
very much of a cad , and not a nice fel
low by anv means.
And Bradford held her wrap , and
they all went off the boat together in
the friendliest sort of fashion , with the
ruaid trotting after them with the
satchels and dogs.
No , he had always had a special aver
sion ior that Bradford ! And as for
small women , with .short hair , dressed
in brown well , his disgust for them
jvas not to be measured by any lan
guage.
Nevertheless , as Coniston wilily ar
gued with himself , "a man must fill up
his time ; " so , in an off-hand way he
just intimated to Bradford that he
didn't care if the opportunity offered
if he did introduce him to Mrs. Wad
dle and her niece Miss Grey.
Bradford was apparently magnani
mous ; besides , he had never presented
an Earl to Miss Grey before and he
did the deed with satisfaction to himself
at least.
Miss Grey bowed slowly to Coniston ,
and then she turned her attention to a
group of lady friends sitting near , leav
ing Conistou to the agreeable know
ledge that he was at liberty to salute
her the next time he met her on tho
piazza or the corridor.
It didn't satisfy him.
He went off and smoked a cigar , and
conjured up Cicely in the fragrance of
the Havana.
Even Cicely did not seem to be as
complete a boon as he had fancied she
ought to be.
For five days he wandered up and
down , and round and round the hotel ,
"lounging , " he called it ; but the more
correct term to describe these pere
grinations would be politely chasing
Polly Grey.
Finally he beheld her alone. Neither
aunt nor Bradford nor friends Heaven
be praised ! were anywhere about.
He drew near the big rocker , where
she sat with a book in her lap ; and sud
denly Coniston remembered that ho
should have to say something beyond
"good-morning , " and for the first time
in he wonder
forty-one years actually
ed what it should be.
She spared him the attempt , howev
er , and glancing up. said :
"Ah ! good morning ; you have been
up in town , I suppose , ever since the
day Mr. Bradford presented you ? "
"Up in town ! " This was too much ,
when he had followed her like a de
tective the entire time.
Coniston looked feebly at her , and
"
then he laughed , and his"fair face Hush
ed as he ventured to sit down on the
piazza step at her feet. Polly glanced
down inquiringly with steady , demure
eyes.
eyes."No , " he cried. "Miss Gray , I've
"
been most of the time about "a yard
and a quarter away from you ; but you
never seemed to see me ! "
"How ' strange ! " Polly says , wonder-
ingly. "Most people would have seen
you. now , wouldn't they ? "
"Women always have before , " he
assents , with a sigh.
"Then you must have rejoiced in a
change , didn't you ? Variety is so
pleasant to an appetite jaded by same
ness ! "
"No , " he answers ; I didn't enjoy it
at all. I'll tell you , " he says , looking
up at her with wide , clear eyes ; "to be
frank , I hate American women , and
you're the only one who ever inspired
me with the slightest "
Collision stops short ; there is some
thing in his listeners face that
marks an unerring period in his reck
less speech.
"Well ? " she asks , sweetly and clear
" ' the ? "
ly , slightest
The English language is Coniston's
native tongue , but it fails him now ;
he feels the warm blood suffusing his
face and his mind runs after an elusive
woman.
"Ah , I see ; there are some things so
much better implied than expressd.
But I am so matter-of-fact that I must
translate your mute eloquence , Lord
Coniston " At this instant Coniston
is lost in calculating how many minutes
he can stnnd this present temperature
of his head and face "into words , or
a word curiosity , eh ? Come , be twice
frank is it not so ? "
"You may christen it curiosity , and
call it so , pro tern. , if you choose , Miss
Gray , but "
The earl again falters.
"Oh ! " cries the girl , with a little im
patient wave of her Hand , and throw
ing back her pretty blonde head ; "how
1 abhor Englishmen ! They are so ii
terror of even their minor emotions. A
Frenchman , a German , an Italian , any
other nationality in the world is ready ,
eager to put his flirtatious propensities
into the most delicious language ; but
an Englishman ! " she shudders "he
stops to wonder what he is about to
feel , and lo ! the emotion vanishes ! ha !
ha ! ha ! "
Miss Grey laughs a long , musical ,
ringing laugh.
Coniston looks at her , and he won
ders if he has ever really seen her until
this morning ? She looks like the
brightest part of the sunshine as she
sits there in it , mocking him.
"Perhaps we do avoid putting what
you call our 'flirtatious propensities'
into words ; but if you will permit me
to say so , an Englishman is only too
ready to speak out that which he really
feels' ! "
"Do they ever 'feel' anything outside
the hunting field and the House of Com
mons ? " she asks , provokingly.
He smiles as he looks at her.
"I will tell you some day. "
Not long after Coniston rides with
Miss Grey a long afternoon ride on
the road by the bay , and through the
woods and past the farms busy with
their autumn fruit gathering.
They chat of commonplace things
the flowers , the birds , the clouds , the
blue'of sea and sky , and they come
home soberly enough , too soberly , he
thinks.
There is a ball that night , "the last
o'f the season. " Coniston is not a danc
ing man , so he has the satisfaction of
watching Miss Grey floating about the
ball rooiii in the arms of other men
principally Bradford. He smokes ci
'
gars ; he e'ven goes so far as to drink
brandy , and invoke the image of the
reposeful Cicely all have little effect. .
He stalks out on the piazza , brilliant
with lanterns , and then saunters to the
other end where it is comparatively
dark.
Polly sits there , and Bradford
Bradford ! is bending over her ; he
even has her hand ; and now he goes in
and leaves her.
Coniston is a madman as he rushes
into the other man's place and leans
tremblingly over her chair. She is
quiet , silent.
"It is 1" he whispers , brokenly.
"I know , " she replies , softly.
"Oh , child ! " cries he , "you must lis
ten to me ; I am a good-for-nothing sort
of a fellow ; I have had no religion , no
anything , until I have known you , and
now you are my shrine. It seems to
meat your feet 1 sliouldlay rare spices ,
perfumes , flowers , jewels and all 1
dnrc lay there to-night is a human
heart a human life , Pollyhe savs ,
lovyly , stooping his "blonde head to hers.
"Wi'll you ha\e me ? "
He sees herlface as she upturns it in
the flare of tho last lantern ; it is as he
'has never seen it pale , stricken , awful ,
calm.
"Well ! " she says at last , with that
clear , bright voice of hers , a trifle hard ,
a trifle matter-of-fact.
"Oh , I love you , mv soul ! my queen !
I love you and need you , " cries he ,
overcome by the sight of her pallor.
"I know , " she answers , quietly , "I
appreciate , value your love ; I would
not have if ; otherwise ; I should have
been disappointed always if you had
not loved me. Ah ! " burying her white
face in her hands , "I revel in it ! "
And he had once thought this woman
cold , superficial , unlikable.
"My darling ! " Coniston says , reach
ing out his hands for hers.
"But , " whispers the girl , drawing
away into her silken wrap , "I I am
engaged to be married to Eugene Brad
ford. I have been for two years ! "
Sir Campbell Frazier had arrived
from the West. The Arizona sailed on
Tuesday , and both he and the Earl of
Coniston were booked on her passenger
list.
list.It
It was Monday night "midsummer
como again , " people said , lounging
about the piazzas of the bighotel
warm , sultry , with great banks of blue3
black clouds hovering above the golden
rim of the west.
Bradford was up in town , detained by
"
business , as Coniston had discovered"
Miss Grey was sitting at the corner of
the piazza. Ho went up to her for the
first time since the night of the ball.
"May I sit down ? "
She looks up asscntingly.
I am going to-morrow in the Ari
zona. "
"I know , " she answers , whitening.
lie wonders why , and. Heaven help
him ! he gets up and goes away , when
he would rather far have taken the
frail , vivacious , alert little woman to
his heart.
Presently he saunters back.
"Would you take a ride with me to
night ? You know we shall never on
earth see each other again. Would
you ? "
Here eyes flash , her lips quiver ; she
turns the ring on her finger back and
forth.
"Yes , " she says , quietly , "I will. I
will get on my habit and be down
presently. "
They ride off off into the green and
silent country lanes where the dew
damps the air , and where the scent of
the homestead flower gardens mingles
with the breath of the sea as it comes
to them.
They do not talk very much , nor yet
ride very fast. The twilight is gather
ing and the horses have their way.
Suddenly it grows dark the blue-
black clouds have swept over all tho
brightness . of the heavens and hidden
tho harvest moon from sight.
A flash an instantaneous report ,
and Polly sees her lover stagger in his
seat ; his left arm falls powerless , struck
forover useless at his side.
She has her horse beside him in an
instant ; she comes close to his side ,
while the great rain drops fall plash
ing down upon them. She takes up
the stricken arm in her soft hands , and
presses her young lips upon it.
'Polly ! " cries Coniston , wildly. "Do
you love Bradford ? "
"Oh , no ! " she says.
"Will you marry "me ? "
"Yes , " she whispered.
Now to-night this very hour ? "
"Yes , this very hour if vou wish it.
h ! " cries the girl , wildly , "Jack , I'll
be so good to you. I must be , don't
you see ? This this ! " She touches
his arm as he tries to guide his horse
and hold her to him , both. "lie
doesn't need me like that ! and you do ;
and it is my fault I ought not to have
come out to-night with vou ! "
-Thank God you didf"
"And , " she says , slowly , as they turn
their t horses' he'ads "besides , I--I love
you ; is it not strange ? "
"Very. And you will not regret
rning a fellow as as helpless as I
am , Polly ? "
No , " she answers , thoughtfully ,
and looking at her by the lightning's *
frequent flash , he sees the strength , and
warmth , and tenderness , and love , that
he has need of.
"Polly , " Coniston says , through the
pelting rain , as they ride back to
Brighton , "it seems to me as if my
whole life had been an interrogation
point , and as if you were the blessed
answer to it. "
And so it fell out that the reverend v
pastor of St. Mary's was called upon iio
to marry two drenched people that iie
November night , and that the Earl of e
Coniston put off his sailing date an iiP
other month. Leslie's Weekly. P
1
flis Reasons. ?
"That is a good cigar you are srnokp
ing , " said a lady to a gentleman. s
'It is , indeed , " replied the gentlek
man as he puffed huge volumes of it in f
the lady's face.
"Foreign or domestic ? " asked the
r
lady. c
A domestic cigar , madam. I never cs
smoke anything but "domestics. "
"And why not ? " qttizically replied
the lady.
"Oh , I am a married man. " Nation
al Weekly.
Certainly Not
Uncle Jake : Peter , I hears you pays
your 'specs to my darter. Now ef you .
means bizness , wot is your bizncss ?
r
Peter : 1'se keepin' books for Dobt
son & Co. r
Uncle Jake : Urn ! Ah ! Does you c
keep 'em in single or double entry , PeI
ter ? r
Peter : Ain't no sich fool chile as r
dat. I puts 'em in de safe down cellah ' t
ebry night. Tiuk I'd keep walybles in f
de entry ? Tid-Bits.
Reached His Destination.
"Well , have you arrived at a conclu
sion yet , " said an irritated creditor to
a man on whom he called to collect a
bill.
bill."I
"I have , " replied the debtor.
"Well , what is it. "
"Having arrived at a conclusion , I
intend to just stop there. " National
Wceklij.
PRIVATE RETREATS IN DEMAND.
Places AVliere tlio A'lctlms of Opium
and. Alcoliol Arc Cured.
The alarming increase in nervous and
mental disorders , consequent upon the
liabitual use of stimulants and narcot
ics has resulted in a corresponding in
crease of private "retreats" within the
last year , says The New York Mail and
Express. Though given the less offen
sive title of "retreats" and "homes , "
these places are really nothing moro
nor less than madhouses , where pa
tients are placed under medical surveil
lance. The } ' llourish in the rural dis
tricts , but pay better when near to some
metropolis. New Jersey has' many of
these homes , where the unfortunates
from New York , Pennsylvania , Dela
ware , and Maryland lind refuge. Con
necticut and Rhode Island offer like ac
commodations to New England patrons ,
while Nebraska is the favored state for
victims of diseased minds in the west.
The south is as yet comparatively un
provided in this particular , though it is
a noticeable fact that this section of the
country sends as many patients to the
New Jersey institutions as any other.
Although all classes of patients are ad
mitted to these "reformatories , " the
majority of them are treated for chronic
alcoholism. Opium and morphine eat
ers come next on the list , while the
"hopelessly insane" receive no treat
ment at all. The young man about
town , who has indulged his appetite to
excess , "goes to Europe for his health. "
Europe in his case , however , is often
times a retreat , where lie remains with
his tongue hanging out of his mouth in
anxiety for one drop of whisky until it
is time for him to return from his trip
abroad. This usually takes about six
weeks.
' 'There are as many ways of treat
ing confirmed drunkards and opium-
eaters as there are physicians to treat
them , " said a physician to a reporter.
"If a little judgment is used the } ' can
be cured , and that , too , quite thorough
ly. They imagine that they must ha is
their favorite stimulant , and if possi
ble they will get it. Some physicians
use the padded cell. The poor inebriate
is brought in suffering witli the delir
ium tremens. After large doses of
bromide of potassium have been forced
down the poor fellow's throat he is
thrown into the padded cell , where he
moans and groans , for days sometimes ,
in despair. Oftentimes the poor wretch
beats his head against his cell walls in
his frenzy. Such treatment is positive
ly cruel , and the patien's many times
are seriously injured. Yhe theory of
'stop a man's whisk'and he won't get
drunk' may be very go d : is a theory ,
but it does not stand n practical test.
To suddenly stop any tiling to which the
system has been long accustomed is a
serious thing. The most judicious and
humane plan is to gradually decrease
the amount of a patient's stimulant un
til he can do without it altogether. This
accomplished , the treatment proper be
gins. The drunkard is not cured when
he finds he can exist comfortably with
out his glass. Neither is he ready to
be discharged. Unless his impover
ished system be built up , six months
after he leaves the institution he will be
as bad as before he entered. He re
quires tonics until his system rallies
from the shock caused by the poison of
the alcohol. Morphine patients should
be fed on the drug regularly. The
doses should be decreased daily. This
can be done by substituting some in-
ocuous white substance , so as to keep
up the size of the dose in appearance ,
until finally the patient , instead of
taking morphine , is taking regular
doses of some effective tonic , and he is
soon in a condition to leave the institu
tion.
"Women addicted to the opium hab
it are the hardest class of patients to
treat. They are naturally more deli
cately organized than men , and it re
quires a much longer time to cure them.
LJnlike the men , however , a woman
once cured seldom has a relapse , "
A Gallic Genius.
The laws regulating the transmission
of mail between countries embraced in
the postal union have heretofore ex
cluded packages exceeding eighteen
inches , or forty-five centimeters , in
length , but will hereafter admit pack
ages of about twenty-seven inches , or
seventy centimeters , in length. The
way the change came about is explained
in a circular just received at the post-
office from the superintendent of for
eign mails. A French publisher , wish
ing to send to his subscribers fashion ,
plates , about seventy centimeters in
length , was told thattliey could not
be received in the foreign mail. Sc'ek-
ing to keep his engagements with his
patrons , however , he cast about for
some way to relieve his difficulty , and
knowing that packages not exceeding
forty-five centimeters , or eighteen
inches , in length would be received ,
hit.upon the following expedient : By
making a paper box in the shape of 11
cube , having each of the lines"of its
squares just forty-five centimeters in
length he could place his fashion plate
roll within the box , the roll being
placed diagonally touching the bottom
and top of the box. A great number
of paper boxes eighteen inches square
threatening to cram the French mail-
bags to bursting , the government de
termined to take the seventy-centime-
ters-long rolls instead of the boxes , ask-
, the other countries in the union to
receive these rolls , until an interna-
tional congress can change the laws
relating to the length of parcels. The j
change contemplated , and which the c
United States foreign mail office has j
now sanctioned , permits the mailing of ]
rolls that can be contained in cubes , I ,
the sides of which do not exceed fortyt j
five centimeters or eighteen inches in
length. St. Louis Republican.
The Dude and the Umbrella.
"It looks like wain , old felJaw. 3
guess we'd bettaw have a hansom. "
"What do you want a hansom for ?
It's only half a dozen blocks , and
you've got your umbrella. "
"Yaas , deahboy. But it's my walk
"
ing umbwellaw. "i eawn't use ft faw a
wain umbwellaw. I could nevaw wap
it up again , don't you know. " Town \ J
Topics. I '
A FEATUfiti ur WASHINGTON.
me KH * Business Done by thoSccond-
IlnndUoolc Stores of tlic Capital
The second-hand book stores of Wash
ington are a curious feature of tho city ,
writes Carp in the Cclvelaml Leader.
There are a number of them , some of
which do a business of tens of thou
sands of dollars yearly. Smaller ones
you will find in out-of-the-way places
scattered here and there , and in any
one of these you may buy many valu
able and rare books. One near the
treasury has the rooms of a four-story
brick building lined with books. En
tering its ground floor is like going into
a large public library , where the books
are classified by subjects , and where
you can find almost anything you want.
You may ask for a set of the congres
sional debates ; from the beginning of
the government until to-day , and it will
be furnished you. It will comprise sev
eral hundred volumes , and its price
will b i 8300. You take your purchase
to your home and look over it , and
your mind goes back to the times of
the past as you read the curious mar-
g.nal notes which you may find in some
of the volumes , and look at the various
autographs inscribed on the fly-leaves
of others' . These books have been gath
ered from all quarters of the country.
One volume may have belonged to An-
ilrew Jackson , and you see his dashing
autograph on the title-page. Another
nay have come from Stephen A. Doug-
Iris' library , and in many cases you will
lind books from the collections of Car-
coll , of Carroll ton , and other men
whose autographs have now a mercan
tile vine.
The state department paid $22.50 at
a book auction , not long ago , for an
Almanac , and it would have readily
given $100 for it. It was one that Jef-
'erson had used , and it con-
'ained ' many notes in Jefiers'on's hand
writing upon its pages. This almanac
was a part of a Virginia collection made
by Mr. Shouey , one ot the stenograph
y's of the senate , and the second-hand
'jook man of whom Shouey bought the
silmanac said he sold it to him for SI.
This man has a shop near the posloflice
lepartment , and while 1 was buying a
' ) ook of him yesterday I talked with
'lim about his trade. Said he : "Secv
ond-hand book-selling is a curious busis
ness , and to the careful dealer there is
uoney in it. Books fluctuate in value
-.ccording to the demands of the times ,
and one to-day which will not bring 10
rents may to-morrow be worth as many
dollars. Anything rare conies high ,
.nd the springing tip of interest in the
old congressional questions brings the
'iterature of the times when they were
formerly discussed into the market.
Just bet ore the Garlield campaign bc-
iran a book collector named Parish , had
a room full of Credit Mobilier reports
which he was thinking of selling to the
waste-paper man. Garfield was nom
inated. The question was brought
nto the canvass , and he sold them for
? e\eral dollars apiece. Just now all
reports and speeches relating to the sil
ver question are of value , and some old
reports which we invoiced at nothing
bring several dollars a copy.
"Here , for instance , is a valuable
book , " continued the antiquarian as he
picked up a volume of about one hun-
Ired pages bound in leather. "It is
worth § 50 at auction , and it is a gov
ernment document too. It i. a report
) ii the Alaskan islands , by Henry W.
Elliott , and it contains many fine
sketches. Only .seventy-live of these
books were printed , and it is almost
uipossible to procure them. "
"What class of people collect books ? "
( asked , "and what are their hobbies ? "
"They are inostlv scholars and rcad-
' ) ? . though , indeed now and then yon
will find some ignorant fellowlio
tares for the binding more than the
on tents , and not a few people buy
Monks for the pictures that are in them
rather than the reading. There are I
Qiany picture collectors in Washing-
1 On , and in some cases I lind that it I
iiays better to tear a book to pieces and
sell its engravings by the piece. Pco-
plu who would not give me 50 cents for
he volume will pay 5 cents apiece for
he twenty or more engravings which it
contains. A great many men buy old
magazines for the pictures , and I have
a largo sale of Harper's and Scribncr's
on this account. They take the full-
page pictures from these magazines
iind cut oft' the white margin to where
the engraving begins. They then
mount this engraving upon cardboard
as carefully as the mounting of a pho-
ograph , and at a very small expense
choice collectons of
procure engrav
ings. The world has never surpassed If
. he magazine illustration of to-day , and
you may find genius lurking in many si
of the pictures of an out-of-the-way ped
nodical. w
"Many men collect books on special \ \
subjects. There are a number of epi
cures in Washington , who want every-
: hing we can find on wines and gas
tronomy. The man to whom I sold
Jefferson's almanac took , for one year , in
even thing on Virginia , and at another "
; ime he made a specialty of whist colH
lections , and bought every book relatlc
ing t to whist or whist player ? . Old di
Bounty histories sell well here at Washc
mgton , and state historical collections a
bring more than when they were first | d
printed. All branches of Americana i ly
; : -ll well , and , indeed , if yon keep any j H
kind of book for a number of years you I st
arc sure to find a buyer in the end. " in
Speakinir of second-hand booktores
Washington has many book auctions j si
every winter , and a very valuable colw
lection is to be sold during the present ; in
season , in the shape of the books of the diy
late ex-Gov. Thomas Bartley of Ohio. y
Bartlev was a great collector , and had sc
scai
a library of choice volumes running into an
the thousands. Such book auctions are aiP
always held in the evening , and you g
may "find supreme court judges , sena He
tors , congressmen , and litterateurs trw
mixed up in the crowds which attend w
them. The books are sold by cata a ;
logue , and each man has a catalogue in bi
his hand as the sale goes on. The bid til
ding is always spirited , and standard ofw
works bring "their full value. There w
are a number of collectors who send to oi
such auctions orders for books , giving is
the limit of their bids , and in certain in
cases the auctioneer is authorized to st
bid certain books off to them at any 8C
price. Justice Bradley buys books at
these auctions. Justice Woods is often
attendant upon them , and the auction
eer has sometimes orders from the his- ?
torian Bancroft. '
TWO WICKED GIRLS. ii i i
Tliey Came > 'cnr Cheating a Conduc- ;
tor Out of Half u "Week's Salary. (
A reporter was walking up Myrtle
avenue , Brooklyn , the other aftrenoon ,
savs The Sfeur York Sun , when ho
no'ticed near Adams street two good
looking and stylis& dressed young
women tripping along .toward him.
One of the girls had some'tyjing in her
hand , which they both lookeCUt with
undisguised joyfulness while the cnat-
ted animatedly over it. As the refy "
cr and the girls passed each other
of the girls exclaimed :
"Ain't it just too lovely for anything !
We can go to a matinee and have
money left. " * '
The speaker's companion uttered a
joyful little squeak and was about to re
ply when the reporter saw a man in
street-car conductor's garb dashing
wildly up the street. His car stood a
quarter of a block away , on one side of
Myrtle avenue. He was panting asth-
matically and his arms sawed tho
air like blades of a windmill. He
rushed by the reporter , and with two
terrible oounds placed himself in front
of the chattering "young ladies. He
stuck out one of his horny hands oi *
toil and mopped his forehead with tho
other.
"Gimme four dollars and ninety
cents ! " he exclaimed , as loudly as his
waning breath would let him.
The chattering of the two girls ceased.
The girl that had in her hand the some
thing which seemed to have causedi
all their animation emptied the con
tents of that hand into the conductor's1
without a word. The conductor shot/
back toward his car like a stone out of
a catapult. The attitudes of th re- ,
treating young ladies , who never turned \
to look after the flying conductor plainV. .
ly indicated that gloom and disap- V
pointinent had taken the place of cheer- \
fulness and joy in their hearts.
The sudden and singular proceeding ;
puzzled the reporter and he dashed
after the conductor. The latter had
reached his car. As the reporter
"
boarded it two young ladies left "it and
went up Myrtle avenue , diseussing
something with as much animation as
the other couple had had before the
conductor swooped down on them in
that unceremonious way. Tho other
passengers in the car were giving
audible signs of amusement. The con-
duclorts face was red and he was pant
ing from the chase.
"What's up , anyhow ? " asked the
reporter of the conductor.
The conductor didn't look pleased.
"It's a dead sure fact , " said he , finally , ,
"that there ain't nobody a living that Jj
can ride two blocks in a street car in - S\ \
this town without losin' all the honesty
they ever had. Now just look at them ' / f
two girls you seen me tackle up the- . . '
street yonder. Nice girls , they are , ' " '
and I'll bet their families are way up.
Well , them two girls and them two you
seen get oft' just now all got on this
car together up Adams street four or
liv blocks. Two of 'cm sot down in
that seat yonder , and t'other two drop
ped into the seat over toward the end
there. When I went for my fares one
of the girls give m.j a liver , and says
for me to take out for two. I told her
I'd give her change in a minute , and
went in. My ear got pretty near down
to the av'noo 'fore 1 got the $4.90
counted out , and then I skims my eye
over the car , picks out the girl that
give me the fiver , and went and tumbled
the change into her hand. I remem
ber , now. that she looked up kind
o' skeert , but as quick as a flash
she shet her linger * on the boodle
and said 'Thank you. ' just as sweetand
innocent as a 2-year-old. Then she
says 'Stop here , please , ' and I yanked , , .
the car to a stand-still. The girl that / &
changed the bill for got out with her
friend , and they wont oft'up the street. , ( ]
started the . and the
car. other two v <
girls motioned for me to stop on the far
side of the av'noo. 'We want to get out
here , " says they , 'Won't you please
give the change for the $5 ? ' I had to
grab the brake to keep from fallin' oft'
backward , for it struck me all of a sud
den that I had dumped that .94 90 into
the wrong girl's hand. I slung mv eye
oft" to the left and saw the two innocent
creatnrs trottin' : long like a couple o'
peacocks. 'Here's a half a week's sal
ary out o' my pocket. ' says Iunless I
"
can overhaul them dear "girls and re
cover them skids. ' So I jerks the rope ,
springs for terry firmer , and puts on a
full head o"steam arter the charmers.
they'd a had half a block more of a
start they'd 'a scooped me , for I'm a
strugglewith the azmy ; but I run Am
down , and they handed'over the plunder
without a mtirmer or ever turnin' a
hair. "
President Tyler's Son.
One of the most striking figures seen
Washington is the son 01 ex-Presi
dent ' Tyler. He is now an old man.
He is bent with weight of years1. His ] | (
long , white , patriarchal beard sweeps - { '
down from his venerable face , . nearly " * -1 , .
covering his broad breast. He wears ' i
soft hat slouched well down over his 'i
deeply-set < eyes , and is dressed general- i1
in a careless suit of badiv cut"black. . / if
He is rarely notice I , and walks tho Ii ) \
street to most people unknown. Yet f
his day he was one of the "reat f )
beans of Wa-hington. He was'con
sidered one of the handsomest men
who ever graced the society of Wash- (
ington. When his father was presi- / '
dent he was the leader amoii"the i
r
young < men who went in Washfngton J
society. He was tall then , stra ght as
arrow , and with a most magnificent \ '
persence ! , if one can judge from the * J
glowing tales of his contemporaries. '
used to wear a long , shaggy coat {
trimmed with Astrakhan fur , which
was a rarity. When he walked the
avenue swinging his cane , twirlinohis
brown mustache , with his fur coat
thrown baek , he was hailed as the hero
his time. Women bowed down and \
worshiped before him , and the number
his conquests was legion. To-dav he
a poor , broken old man who walks ,
insignificant and unknown , about the
streets where he
once reigned as a
social king. Sew York World.