1
'\
aftords -in excellent opportunity for the
pick-pocket to get your watch. If you
would he proof against his skill, be sure
., that the bow lor ring) is a
This wonderful bow is now fitted to the
Jas. Boss
Fil!cv/3 Wntrh Cncos
soldered to a piate of composition m> !ai.
Look equally as well as solid gold cas.-s,
and co d about half ns much.
Guaranteed to wear 20 years.
Always look f r this trade mark. -—
Sold only through watch dealers.
Ask any jeweler for pamphlet or send
to the manufacturers.
Keystone Watch Case Co.,
PHILADELPHIA.
The Nervous System the Seat
of Life and Mind. Recent
Wonderful Discoveries.
No mystery has ever compared with that of
human life. Ithasbeeu the leading subject
of professional research and study In all ages.
But notwithstanding this fact it is not eener
ally Known
that the seat
of lifolsloea
) ted in tho up
per part of the
spinal cord,
near tho base
of tho bra I d
and so sensi
tive is t h i t
port Ion of tho
nervous sys
tem that even
the prick of a
needlo will
causo Instant
death.
Recent discoveries have demonstrated that
all tho organs of the body aro under tho con
trol of tho nerve comers, located in or near
tho base of tlio brain, and that when these are
deranged the organs which they supply with
nerve lluid aro also derauged. When It is re
membered that a serious injury to tho spinal
cord will cause paralysis of the body below
the injured point, because the nerve force is
prevented by tho injury from reaching tho
paralyzed portion, it. will be understood how
the derangement of tho nerve centers will
came thederangement oftho variousorgatts
which they supply with nerve force.
T wo-thirds of tmronic diseases are duo to
tho Imperfect action of the nerve centers at
the base of tho brain, not from a derange
ment primarily originating In tho organ it
seif. Tuo groat mistake of physicians in
treating these diseases Is that they treat tho
organ rather than the nervo centers which
are tho causo of t ho t rouble.
Du. Franklin Miles, tho celebrated spe
cial! d,has profoundly studied this subject for
over CJ years, and lias mado many Important
disco veries in connection with it, chief among
them being mo facts cou'alned in tho a .ovo
statement, and that tho ordinary methods of
treatment are wrong. All headache, dizzi
ness, dullness, contusion, pressure, blues,
m inia, melancholy. Insanity, epilepsy. St.
Vitus dance, etc., are nervous diseases no
matter how caused. Tho wonderful success of
Dr. Miles' Restorative Nervine is duo to tho
fa-t that it. is based on thefnreeoing principle.
Dii. Miles' Restorative Nervine Is sold by
all druggists on a podtlve guaran’oc, or sent
direct by Dr. Miles Medical Co., Elkhart,
Ind.. on receipt of price, SI per bottle, six
bottles for So, express prepaid. It contains
neither opiate", not dangerous drugs.
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TRY THIS, i
EXPBItlXBNS'S
ARj; DANCBROIJ3.
DECAYS ARB
SANGBROUS.
TRY KO
EXPBPI'TE'T'TG.
EAKS NO
EEL AYS.
USE
OREGON K3Di\'EY JEA,
IT WILL. CL’XS YC’J
Of Back-ache. TnfV'-r--::*; n of the Bladder &
or Kidneys, Diabetes, l.osa of eiesh, Drops:
calSwc!!:r.£TS, Constipnd. :..U complamls
arising from a morbid condition of t!;e V •. ■
nary Organs.
si ■} #'
t ■iA 39_,
Oar PCSTZCTifill SYMNGB free *!th mrrJMb.
It clean. d»m not stain, prevents stricture.
Cans GOSOutiKCEA sod GLEET in Oaa to Poctx dejt,
A QUICK CUR* IbrLEUCOBRHIBA or WHITES. ^ „ .
Sold be all DRUGGISTS. Seat to xoj Addraao R» ROB.
gn.vnnfr MANUFACTUBOia CO, IiOWQQBTH. 0M>
MY NEIGHBOR’S BOY.
He seems to bo several boys in one,
80 much is ho constantly everywhere!
And the mischievous things that boy has done
No mind can remember nor mouth declare.
He tills the whole of his share of space
With his strong, straight form and hia merry
face.
He Is very cowardly, very brave;
He Is kind and cruel, good and bad,
A brute and a hero! Who will save
Tho best from the worst of my neighbor’s
lad!
Tho mean and the noble strive today;
Which of the powers will have its way?
Tho world is needing his strength and skill.
He will make hearts happy or make them
ache.
What power is in him for good or ill?
Which of life’s paths will his swift feet take?
Will ho rise and draw others up to him.
Or tho light that is in him burn low and dim?
But what is my neighbor's boy to me
More than a nuisance? My neighbor’s boy.
Though I have some fears for what ho may be.
Is si source of solicitude, hope and joy
And51 constant pleasure, because I pray
That the best that is in him may rule some
day.
He passes me with a smile and a nod.
Ho knows I have hope of him, guesses, loo.
That I whisper his name when I ask of God
That men may bo righteous, his will to do.
And I think that many would have more joy
If they loved and prayed for 51 neighbor’s boy!
—M. Farningham in Christian Advocate.
MAGIC
I have intended to tell the story of lit
tle Akli before. E don’t know why I
haven’t done so, unless it has been be
cause— But I will tell the story this
time.
I had been journeying through Egypt
in company with my friend, Harry Kel
lar, the magician. Wo were stopping at
the quaint old town of Boolak, which is
situated on tho right bank of the Nile, at
tho divergence of its Pelusiac branch,
one mile northwest of the historic city
of Cairo, of which it forms a suburb.
Our host was an Egyptian grandee, I
whoso fine country place overlooked the
shipping from just outside the more
densely populated part of the town.
One day we were strolling down near j
the landings when an old Egyptian j
market woman besought us to purchase '
some of her tamarinds, naming an ex
orbitant price.
“Why, my good mother, do you sell
these tamarinds at that low figure?” ex
claimed Kellar in mild surprise, ad
dressing her in her own tongue. “They
are worth much more than that, I am
sure,”
She looked surprised: so did our host.
“Yes, I was sure of it,” Kellar con
tinued, and he broke one of those that
he had taken up and drew a small cop
per coin of the country from its center.
For a moment the woman was too
startled to do more than regard the coin
with wonder. Then, however, her nat
ural avarice asserted itself, and she
snatched the bit away from Kellar's un
resisting hand.
“Ah! I see you are a fakir,” our host
said smilingly as we moved on “It was
well done. Now I know that you and
my other esteemed friend here will more
than ordinarily enjoy the slight diver
sion I have to offer for your entertain
ment after coffee today. Perhaps, too,
you may have the keenness—though it
is not in me to explain the performance
to divine how little Akli can survive
the marvelous act Abalani forces him
to do, and to discover how Abalani can
perform his part of the strange enter
tainment.
But about the old market woman: A
servant told our host later that she had
hurried directly to her rude cot on our
departure, where she had carefully
opened every tamarind in her basket to
find the copper bit in its center. The
disappointment she suffered on not find
ing a single bit of money and the loss of
the spoiled fruit served her right for at
tempting to impose upon the supposed
ignorance of strangers. But Kellar was
too large hearted to allow the lesson to
be one that should make her the poorer,
and the servant was dispatched directly
to the old peddler’s home with more
than twice the worth of the fruit in cop- j
pers.
That evening Abalani, the fakir, ar- j
rived at onr host’s house.
He was a small, wiry little man, whose
age was about 45, if yon were to judge :
it from the dark, clear eyes with which :
he quickly summed you up. They seemed
to pierce me through and through as he
made a deprecatory bow before me, his
thi# arms and palms extended toward
me in the attitude of benediction.
His only garments were a light breech- j
cloth of a dark red shade and a flowing
silk mantle, dark yellow in color. The
only ornament he wore was a dark cop
per ring hanging from his neck by a
greasy looking piece of leather or cord.
I looked for Akli, the little boy with
whose assistance he performed the tricks
we expected to witness.
But Abalani was alone.
I then looked for the coil of rope which
I had heard played a part in the strange
spectacle.
The fakir had brought none.
I said to myself that we were to be dis
appointed. and that the little weazen
limbed fakir had come to make excuses
for his inability to amuse us this time,
and I could see that Kellar thought the
same.
But our host retained his wonted good
nature as though nothing was wrong,
and it was not the place of either Kellar
or myself to show disappointment.
Meanwhile the little fakir led the way
to a smooth bit of ground not far from
the house.
Here we almost unconsciously formed
an expectant circle about him.
Ho spoke few words, and we main
tained a perfect silence under the spell
the little fellow seemed to throw around
him. But this was not the sensation of
gazing upon a serpent that one experi
ences when witnessing the performances
of so many of his class.
“My masters, you wish to see Akli
climb?” he said in a crackling, restrained
tone.
“They do,” our host answered for us.
The man clapped his thin palms to
gether twice smartly.
As he did so a small boy appeared by
his side like a flash where there had
been no one th i moment before. Kellar
started forwai 1 with an involuntary ex
clamation on his I'-'a. r. ’
ly startled. Tl -
1 !c in - .
i . I .iy in his ... oo
boy, a handsome lad of appu. 10
or 12, was similarly clothed. At my re
quest he toek my hand and gave it a
friendly pressure.
“I must have a rope—must have a
rope!” exclaimed Abalani nervously, and
be gesticulated in the air quickly with
his right arm, his actions seeming tc
fascinate me.
“Ah!"
He ceased the action, and lowering
his arm displayed a large coil of native
rope in his hand that it would have been
impossible for hiifc to have concealed
about his person. Then, with a quick
motion, he pitched one end of the coil
straight up into the air. keeping the oth
er end in his grasp.
The line seemed to catch up thero in
the atmosphere. It staid there dangling
down between us.
Abalani ordered Akli to climb up, hur
rying him with a word of impatience
and stamp of his foot.
Akli shook the rope with one hand, as
if to see if it were quite secure, and then
(lid as ho was requested.
Up, up, up, he clambered, higher and
higher, gradually growing smaller and
smaller as he ascended until he actually
disappeared from view. Yet we could
tell tiiat he was still climbing away up
there, for the rope before us trembled
with the motion that he made. Abalani
did his best to study it.
Then suddenly the fakir clapped his
hands and sprang to one side. We heard
the rushing sound of a body falling
through the air, and then the form oi
Akli landed upon his feet before us un
hurt and smiling. Another clapping of
Abaffini's hands, and rope and boy both
disappeared.
The fakir stood alone before us. Kellar
and I were mystified. lie asked that
Abalani perform the trick again. When
it had been done a second time, Abalani
left us as perplexed as before.
For my part I gave the whole riddle
up. I had seen many a strange feat of
jugglery, but this one completely non
plused me. Kellar was determined not
to leave Boolak until he had satisfied
himself r.s to how the trick, or feat, had
been performed.
A week passed. Our host enjoyed
Kellar's quandary keenly as a boy, and
joked him about it. However, kellar
joined us on the porch one afternoon
with a certain amused expression upon
his face that made me feel reasonably
sure that something interesting was up.
“I should like to see little Akli climb
just once more this afternoon,” he said,
dropping into a low steamer chair with
more satisfaction than I had noticed him
evince for the past week, “Con and I
should be leaving tomorrow or the next
day at the latest.”
To make known a wish there was to
have it gratified. After coffee that aft
ernoon Abalani came walking gravely
up the shaded path, his slight figure
clothed as before—in the flowing mantle
and scanty breechcloth—that dark cop
per ring, a snaue lighter in color than
the breast it hung against, his only dec
oration. As before, he was alone.
There were the same low salaams, his
dry, hard paims that were of almost the
whiteness of mine being stretched over
us. Few words were spoken. The man
could not have been more deferential.
But at the same time I thought that I
detected a gleam of egotistical challenge
in his dark eyes that made me hope Kel
lar would succeed in detecting his trick
and increased my desire to know how it
was performed.
We moved down to the place in the
garden where we had witnessed the act
before, Kellar slipping into the house a
moment first. Little Akli appeared as
bright and smiling as when we had first
6een him. The rope appeared, Akli had
climbed it, when I heard a slight, sharp
“click!” on the side where Kellar was
standing. 'When little Akli had clam
bered out of sight, Abalani clapped his
hands twice. We shuddered as we heard
the sound of Akli’s falling body. The
rope had disappeared, and the little fel
low stood there bowing before us. The
next moment he was gone.
Kellar hurried me into the house and
to our room. The room had a dark
closet, and soon Kellar was hold up a
dripping 4 by 5 plate from his camera
for me to view by the dim light of our
ruby lantern.
I could see our host, arms akimbo, i
looking up wonderingly. I could see Aba
lani—showing up white in the negative—
his thin arms raised above his head, his
feet braced widely apart, as they had
been when steadying the rope for little
Akli to climb when I had heard the
shutter of the camera snap. But there
was no little Akli to be seen anywhere,
nor any rope, for that matter.
Abalani had mesmerized our host,
Kellar and myself, but it was beyond
his fakir skill to mesmerize our detect
ive camera.— Conyers C. Converse in
New York Herald.
Chinese Dudes.
China is perhaps the last place in the
world where one would expect to find
dudes and mashers, but it appears that
in Shanghai the gilded youth among the
Celestials have adopted the masher cos
iume. Very curious they look in their
high collars and tight fitting coat=. They
have also taken to wearing foreign un
derclothing, eating foreign foods, smok
ing foreign tobacco and doing many
other things contrary to the old fash
ioned Chinese usage. They also ride in
foreign carriages, men and women to
gether, and some of them live in foreign
houses in grand style. There are alsc
hundreds of schools kept hv Chinese
where nothing but English is taught,
that being considered the most useful
language.—London Globe.
A Gentle Hint.
Aunty (shocked)—Do you and your
sister quarrel over your candy this way
when at home?
Little Johnny—No’m. Mamma al
ways gives us so much we both has
plenty.—Philadelphia J£em.
WILY HETTY GREEN.
PECULIARITIES OF A WOMAN WORTH
$60,000, oOJ.
Slie I* Old Fashioned In Appearance, Se
verely Plain In Dress, but the Personifl
cath.n of Shrewdness When Financial
Transactions Are Involved.
Not ft small part of the fame of Brook
lyn can be laid to the credit of the re
markable women who have lived nn l
live now within its borders—women who
have taken rank and honor in almost ev
ery walk of life. It is a well known fact
that a very large proportion of tne real
estate of the city is held in the names of
women. It is not a widely known fact
that the woman who is reputed to be the
richest in the United States lives in the
City of Churches and right in the clas
sic section known as the heights too.
Her wealth is variously estimated at
from $40,000,000 to $60,000,000, and her
name is Mrs. Hetty Green. Her name
and personality are more familiar to
Wall street than they are to Brooklyn
society. That is because Mrs. Green has
chosen to devote all her time to the man
ipulation of her fortune and has let so
ciety get along without her. Hetty
Green at an Ihpetonga ball would cre
ate a sensation indeed, but it is not like
ly that such an occasion will ever be re
corded by society writers.
Hosts of people have brushed elbows
with a shrewd and rather calm faced
woman, apparently 50 years old, rather
short, wearing a plain, old fashioned
shawl and a bonnet so far beyond fash
ion’s pale that no one would ever suspect
it had been in it, even years ago. No
body ever saw her with a dress which
was not severely plain, and seldom has
she been noticed when she did not carry
an old style and well worn black satchel.
Her appearance would never cause the
uninitiated to think that she was any
thing more extraordinary than an old
fashioned woman of moderate mean3
and simple tastes, who was on her way
to the corner grocery or the bakery on
the block below. Yet, if money is pow
er, this same staid looking person is one
of the most powerful human beings in
the country.
In an old fashioned house on a corner
in Pierrepont street Mrs. Green and her
daughter Sylvia have lived for several
years. The modest apartments they oc
cupy are hired from a pleasant faced
woman, who keeps the house and who
has an admiration for Mrs. Green,
which she does not conceal. The rich
est woman in the United States has a
son, who has been spending some time
in Florida seeking to improve his health.
Mrs. Green has been a widow for many
years, and her daughter is about SO
years old. Since the death of her hus
band Hetty Green has become a finan
cier of unusual shrewdness. She has in
dicated by her actions that she has small
faith in brokers, and that if she wants
anything done the best way is to do it
herself.
The weather beaten satchel has carried
secur'Mes representing millions of dol
lars. It has knocked about New York
and Brooklyn and other big financial
centers with precious burdens, and Het
ty Green has always had a tight grip o.i
it. She does dot believe in spending her
money on things she does not want, and
as she wants very little she spends but
little. Her children and her fortune are
the sole objects of her solicitude. Mrs.
Green is said to be very anxious to have
her daughter become one of the leading
actors in the famous Four Hundred of
Manhattan island. Something of an ob
stacle in the way of this is the daughter
herself, according to report. Miss Green
is credited with caring as little for the
dazzle and newspaper notoriety of a so
cial career as her mother. She is a girl
whose tastes are quiet and to whom
dress is a matter of little consideration.
Mrs. Green, by way of a foundation
for her daughter’s social debut, some
time ago settled a large sum of money
on that young woman in government
bonds. The amount is stated to be
$5,000,000.
Incidents m the career of this remark
able woman have stamped her as a bold
yet cautious operator in stocks and se
curities. When the financial panic of
1884 occurred, Mrs. Green had a large
deposit in a firm of Canadian bankers
named Cisco & Co. of New York. In
formation reached her that the bank
was in an unsafe condition, and without
waiting to hear more she went to the in
stitution and withdrew her entire de
posit. Tho firm had no alternative, and
after paying her her money was com
pelled to suspend and finally failed com
pletely. Hetty Green is the largest
property owner in the city of Chicago.
She holds title to block after block of
land in the business section, and her son
assists in looking after her interests
there. For many years she lived in the
western metropolis, and she spends much
of her time there when away from Brook
lyn.
Her characteristic bargain with er.
Judge Henry Hilton is fresh in the minds
of financiers. Tho money which tho
judge wanted so badly is generally con
ceded to have been used in buying out
the interest of his son, Henry G. Hilton,
in the dry goods firms of Hilton. Hughes
& Co. and Hilton Eros. He went to
Mrs. Green, or his lawyers did, and made
a request fora loan of $1,250.000in cash.
Mrs. Green was willing to lend, but in
sisted on having a mortgage on the mar
ble palace at the corner of Broadway
and Chambers street, New York, the
Stewart building, which, with the land,
is supposed to he worth $0,000,000. She
would take no other security, and after
a two months’ search of the title the lar
gest mortgage ever given on a single piece
of property in Now York was recorded.
But Judge Hilton needed the money be
fore the search had been concluded, and
after he had placed in the hands of Hetty
Green title deeds representing $15,000,000
worth of property she advanced him
$800,000. And in addition to this the
shrewd speculator forced him to sign a
paper agreeing that she should hold the
deeds until the mortgage was executed.
—Brooklyn Eagle.
UNCLE SAM’S MAILBAGS.
When Worn Out, They Junt Regin to Re
Really of Service.
To see the government economically
administered, go where they mend mail
bags. 'When a mailbag is worn out, it
is considered as just fit for service. A
new mailbag is stiff, unyielding. When
it has knocked about the world, had the
starch taken out of it and its weak
places discovered, it grows pliable, gives
when it can’t force its way and is now
prepared to do business successfully.
Like a human being, the mailbag has
had its experience. Tho most active
mailbags now in tho service have scarce
ly a hand’s breadth of the original fabric.
The ordinary jute mailbag is mended
by women. This is one of the now few
branches of the public service outside of
the civil servi ce rules. The women who
mend mailbags are appointed by con
gressmen or public officers in tho old
way. A more democratic gathering can
not be found in Washington, it is dirty
if not difficult work. In the numbers of
women clad in tlieir worst clothes, their
heads bidden in paper fools’ caps with
long curtains, their hands guarded by
leather bauds and at work on sewing so
rude that it seems like a travesty on the
gentle art of the needle, it is difficult to
detect from one another the delicately
nurtured woman, the sturdy foreigner
and the negro. They are all there work
ing in perfect amity.
Each woman sits on a low chair. She
has exchanged her street dress for her
working clothes in the commodious
dressing room. She receives every morn
ing a mailbag holding 10 bags. Five
of these are comparatively good; live
are more or less bad. It is a mild sort
of lottery, which these women experi
ence twice or three times a day, and tho
element of chance is not the less excit
ing though it lie in tho depths of a dirty
mailbag.
iJaii or good tho women are paid <U
cents a bag. For tiio woman who can
not earn at least §1.07 a day there is no
place in this room. They earn on an
average about $1.80 a day, and some
women exceed this amount. Each wo
man works with a darning needle and
twine thread. Her first acquirement is
the sailor’s stitch. With this she can
patch, darn or embroider. When she
has finished the bags, they are carried to
a central table, where on a bulletin
board her name is scheduled. There her
work is examined by one of three men
and checked off accordingly.
Not all sew. Some string the bags at
the neck and put on the tags and locks.
Cue of these is a blind negress. She has
not seen since a child, but she works
rapidly and deftly while she tells with
pride how she can embroider and sew
at home.
These women from such varied walks
in life work together in perfect accord.
When to the foreman the dusty air and
unsightly work seem to have depressed
the workers, he suggests to some one,
generally a colored woman, to start up
some music. The wave of sound gath
ers until ihe whole room has joined in.
It is usually a hymn, for hymns come
most easily to women’s lips.
The government is a kind taskmaster.
The room is finely lighted and venti
lated. Tho washrooms are abundantly .
and finely equipped with marble mount
ed sta1 ionarv stands. At noon a tea and
colfee bureau is opened, and the workers
have all tho tec. and colfee they desire at
the expense of their country. Washing
ton working hours are easy. Vacations
of a month are given, and certain sick
leaves are provided for. The sweat
shops of the government, where the new
mailbags arc made by contract, are in
this city.—Now York bun.
A Fcrujpan Superstition.
The girl3 of tho Perugian highlands
believe as firmly as any heroine of The
ocritus that a person possessing a lock
of another person's hair can will pain,
disease and even death to the owner
of the hair, and thus when maidens give
their betrothed lovers the customary
pilaited tress it is virtually their life and
all their power of suffering that they
give into those trusted hands.
If the man should prove unfaithful
and disease descend upon the unhappy
w oman, sho is not, however, utterly lost,
the experienced matrons of her village
have means to transfer the complaint to
a tree, to an animal or to cast it into
running water. The patient must rise
in the early dawn, touch a certain plant
in a certain manner, saying, “May thou
wither and 1 flourish again,” or bind her
complaint to a tree in a given fashion,
taking care never to piass again before
that tree lest the disease, recognizing its
former possession, return to her again.—
Loudon Athenaeum.
Ic-o Cream Poisoning.
This is a reproach to tho professions
of medicine and chemistry. Year after
year, with mournful reiteration, there
are many reports of fatal cases. The
deaths from this source must immensely
exceed those from hydrophobia, but Pas
teur institutes spring up like mushrooms
in every country, while the deaths of
the victims of poisoning by the cream
are passed over in silence. Wouhl it not
be well to look into this matter? Would
it not be well to prove or disprove the
theory of a writer that the common ice
cream freezer is often an electric battery
decomposing toxic products by means
of the mixture acting as an electrotype?
—Medical News.
A Stammering Mate.
Hobbs and Dobbs were discussing men
who stammer.
“The hardest job I ever had,” said
Hobbs, “was to understand a deaf and
dumb man who stammered.”
“How can a deaf and dumb man stam
mer?” asked Dobbs.
“Easily enough,” replied Hobbs. “He
had rheumatism in his fingers.”—Lon
don Tit-Bits.
Lacking In Taste.
Maud—Why did you break off yonr en
gagement with Charley?
Ellen—Well, you see he would wear
shirts and neckties which didn’t become 1
; my complexion.—Chicago Record.
LONDON BY GASLIGHT
SATURDAY NIGHT STREET SCENES IN
THE CITY OF THE DOCKERS.
A llri-ak lo the Tearful DrearliifNiThat
Mark* the i.ifo of the Toiling Thuuu.- '*
of tlio Cum; Side of l!i« limit Metro;i-P!.v
Mimic, Sot. 4* and Dancen.
The memory of a Saturday night tn
the City of I he Dockers is like the recol
lection of a troubled dream, for on i’ ?
last night of the week the great, hot
Rh-opts are filled with Uie pentup life of
COO,000 houses (one cannot call them
homes), and all the varied phases of this
hand to hand straggle for existence ap
pear. The (locker is prodigal of his few
shillings on Saturday night, tho maxi
mum of his liberality being show a
most often in the public house and on
the catch penny street conjurer, wbil’
the minimum is apparent at the stalls of
the grocer and butcher. But.men, wom
en and children are out on thc;‘r.
and, whatever else it be, Saturd y in,..at
is something of a break in the fearful
dreariness that marks the life of the east
London toiling thousands.
Tho people love music. Their inter
pretation of music is rather rough and
loud. Tho bass drum of every baud that
parades in a labor demonstration of a
Sunday gets terribly punished before the
day is over, but it commands agio- . fol
lowing, and on Saturday night the .- I reef
musicians ami singers easily gather tli.-ii
crowds and reap an abundant harvest
The barrel organ is found every
and wherever it is rattling out the popu
lar “Daisy” or “The Man Who Broke
the Bank at -.Ion; Carlo” tho sidewalks
will be crowded, while two or three
couples of liLtlo girls dance on the ti. g
stones.
A early every girl ot 8 can dance, many
of them have already appeared in puulhs
at the cheat) concert halls, and i > ,
watches them, lialle.su, dirty, i..rl wii i
faces beaming with delight, he doe." i.ot
know whether to bo glad of their joy <r
to pity their hollow present and hopple s
future tho more. Often a part ia mesa
street dances will he taken by the h r
girls, factory girls, as they are all called
iu east London, who are out in crowds
ou Saturday night. They are :.:i -
tamed, fantastic iot. All wear c-i:.:•■ as
hats, adorned wi.h feather:--, and train
their hair about the forehead by curb: <
it forward quite fiercely. They are:::
tensely loyal to tho customs and tradi
tions of their own “set,” and f<>rcui :.s
they are to subsi.-t on an income of C to
8 shillings per week they are a vexing
problem to the e at London philanthro
pist and reformer.
Besides the burr. 1 organs, there are
violins, accordions and a):y number of
soloists unaccompanied by an iti.v,.
inent. Blind women, old men and tic
poor wrecks of this awful struggle for
existence here stand at the curbstone
and in weak, thin voices sing their songs.
The restless crowd moves ou, save wo .
some one more curious or more kindly
than the rest stands near to look or Tx
ten. A bent woman, whose thin shawl
was thrown over her shoulders, was
feebly singing some old song in the
midst of the jostling throng around a
public house. I saw a strong young girl
of 14 come kindly toward her, drop a
penny in the little box held by the f..c’ L
hand and then hurry away out of r■*’•*.
Happy will the strong young lass be if
the swirl of the turbid stream of east
London life does not bring her some time
to the place cf the curbstone singer, in
deed there is no place that 1 have ever
seen where mirth and patho3, vice red
virtue, meet and mingle as on these
streets in a night like this.
One sees very little begging. There is
not much street begging anyway—
there’s no use begging; the people are
too poor. The mendicant flees Can-ing
town for the wealthier residential quar
ters. Of course the children beset one.
The sidewalk artist is sometimes found,
but the most common form of appeal is
from the ragged little fellows who turn,
handsprings or stand ou their heads for
you. They really do their athletics
very nicely, and there is somethin')- so
appealing and “old mannish” in their
looks that it is hard to resist them. 1
was hurrying through the crowds in
Victoria docks one night about lb wV-n
a boy of 7 came out and ran bee ■■id" v ••
relating 6ome sort of veise, I thougut.
Three repetitions made it clear:
Ha’p'ny won’t 'wit yer.
Penny won't break yer,
Tu'p’nce won’t Bend yer t* the work’us.
He was evidently working on a “grad
uated scale of benevolence ad;.; ' •’ o
the abilities of the donor.” I believe bv
the emphasis laid on the last item that
he estimated mo from my gold ’
spectacles at tu’pence.
The harrows of east London delicacies
abound in the streets where mar’y.’ug
goes on. The woman who sells cold
pickled pigs’ feet is in fair demand. The
man who retails shrimps at a pt: a
bag gets a good trade, but the coup’s
who preside at the barrow filled with
“cockles and winkles” have their • -mis
full. The delectable mollnsks ere dis
played on little dishes as large ..s m :
vidual butters,” with a bit of garni- i....g
of parsley, and are eaten with vinegar a
the spot.
These barrows are found < sp< i i..i!y ; .
the entrance of Victoria Docl sronl.a
great marketing place in Canning tov. n
on Saturday night. Clothing (v<
and shoddy and called “slops”), little
tools for household use, cheap laces, r'.
berts, “red bandanna” liandkerchieis
and horn combs are some of the ...., y
articles sold from barrows in ti t; s;;- .,
outside tlie regular shops form' ;t. fruit
and fish. On the whole, trade is earned
on with great briskness, but mere ;;ni
etly than in market streets at hom**
The butchers are the most noisy. TLcj
delight in wearing tail hats and r ; r
ing odd calls at the full of their lungs.
A penny is the standard unit here la
Canning town. The buyers are poor,
and everything that can be called at 3
penny is. A common cry is;
A penny a pun, a pun a penny,
at the barrows, where a pound of any
thing can be sold at this low
Hartford Courant.
