White Pass & Yukon Railway To The Klondike Alaska Gold Fields

By W. M. Sheffield.

For less than three years streams of hu­manity have been pouring into the interior of Alaska. The soil of that coun­try, with that of the adjacent northern portions of British Columbia and the North­west Territory, is now considered as among the most precious of the earth, and its sec­tions are in eager demand on the exchanges of New York, London and Paris, bought and sold with greater facility than has ever been the case with the mines of South Africa and Australia. Up to the time that gold was discovered in the now famous Klondike valley, little was known of Alaska, even by the government author­ities at Washington. Official information was obtained through the revenue cutter service, and with inadequate means at its disposal, its reports were known to be inaccurate, and the government maps to show an incorrect coast-line.

Egyptian Women Fellaheen Women

By Alexander Harvey.

In Egypt, things feminine go by con­traries. Young women of sixteen are employed as hodcarriers, mason's attend­ants, and builders. They do not seem to mind it either. It is an odd sight for an American to see a young woman sedately carrying a hod of mortar to a man who is building a wall. She is graceful about it, it must be said, and somewhat spectacular, too, for she wears golden bracelets on her legs and bangles on her arms the while. Meantime, there's hardly to be found in Cairo a woman who "looks after the house" as we understand it here. The women perform no household duties. The men do all that. The American and European wives who settle in Cairo are compelled to hire men to cook, to wash, to sew, to sweep and to clean. If they do not like the idea of a man's doing plain sewing or washing the family linen, they must do the sewing or the washing them­selves, for the women are too busily en­gaged elsewhere. Besides, the women do not know how.

King Henry Christophe I Haiti Sans Souci JJ Dessalines Laferrier

By Luther G. Billings.

One of the most remarkable men dur­ing the days of travail and suffering of poor, bloodstained Hayti was Henri Christophe.

He was born a slave in the island of Grenada, in 1769, was sold to a dealer in Cape Haytien at an early age and was for some time a waiter in a café. As he matured, he became remarkable no less for his size and herculean strength than for his savage and indomitable spirit.

There is nothing on record as to when he became a soldier, but he must have served with the black deliverer Toussaint L'Ouverture, as he was a general and gov­ernor of the Cape in 1801, and had then been welded into the "man of blood and iron" he was ever afterwards.

During his youth, the terrible cruelty practiced on the slaves by their French masters had caused them to unfurl the black flag of servile insurrection, and a war was begun that spared neither age nor sex.

Bridge Whist in America. Henry Jones Cavendish Kate Irwin Wheelock

By Frank W. Crane.

Whist, in America, has become within the past few years not only wonderfully popular, but a thor­oughly scientific game. To thousands it is undoubtedly popular, and always will remain so, without being exactly scien­tific. Time and study are required for the latter, two necessities which the hustling American has not always been willing or able to give. But a decided change has recently taken place, and to a large number the game has come to mean something more than mere temporary amuse­ment. Five or six years ago the really expert players could be counted almost on the fingers of two hands; now they are numbered by the hundred. In fact, Americans have become recog­nized the world over, wherever whist has a high standing, as author­ities on the game, and the reputation of many of our leading players extends far beyond the limits of their own country.

Cavendish, who is acknowledged as the authority of first rank, was surprised when he visited this country two years ago, both at the remarkable progress of the game and the number of first-class players. It was a revelation to him, and he admitted, what may not generally be known, that the standard of whist was higher in the United States than in Eng­land, and that our clubs had a larger per­centage of scientific players than the English clubs. If Cavendish might be called the king of whist, America has the whist queen, a title bestowed by Caven­dish himself upon Miss Kate Irwin Wheelock, a lady whose abilities he rec­ognized and admired, and one of the few women who has studied the game from a purely scien­tific standpoint.

Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt.

By William S Bridgman.

A superficial accounting of the success of Mrs. Cornelius Vander­bilt as a social leader is sure to be fol­lowed by the explanation that she has behind her the Vanderbilt name and the Vanderbilt millions. So she has, and there is no denying the potency of either, nor the fact that a woman backed by them may go far. But to cap these ad­missions there is another even as palpa­ble. It is that some women are bound to go further than others.

There are, for instance, those worth millions who remain in the ranks with other millionaires, content to gather up such successes as may come their way and beckon to them. There are a few who step forth from the ranks and com­mand success, extraordinary and swift, success that labels them, even among millionaires, as social leaders.

Out of this same stuff that has fash­ioned these few, the great generals of the world — the Hannibals. and Napoleons, the Grants and Lees — have been made. Women endowed with the power and the training that enabled them to lead scien­tifically have become the social queens of history — the Maintenons, the Re­camiers, the Dolly Madisons. Such women shine by their wit and beauty; they are the brilliant centers of salons; they entertain princes and are enter­tained by kings. 

Sitting Bull. The True Story of the Death of Sitting Bull.

By Major Edmund G. Fechet, Sixth Cavalry, U.S.A.

More than five years have passed since the most famous Indian warrior of his time lost his life while resisting arrest by lawful authority, and as yet the general public has never been given the true story of the events which led up to and culminated in the death of Sitting Bull and some of his most de­voted adherents. Many accounts have been written, few of which had more than a faint color of truth. The different versions were many, and nearly all simply absurdities.

During the Sioux outbreak of 1890-91, the writer, then a captain of the Eighth Cavalry, was stationed at Fort Yates, North Dakota. The post was commanded by Lieut. Col. William F. Drum, Twelfth Infantry. The garrison consisted of two companies of the Twelfth Infantry and two troops of the Eighth Cavalry. The Standing Rock agency is on the north side of the post and only a few hundred yards away. Maj. James McLaughlin was the agent, and had held the position during the eight or nine previous years. During the summer of 1890, it became apparent that the Indians of the agency were be­coming imersed with the Messiah craze. Major McLaughlin, aided by his wife, and seconded by the well-known warrior, Gall, and other loy­ally disposed chiefs, used his utmost efforts to stem the tide of fanaticism. Sitting Bull, who had pro­claimed himself "High Priest," was thus in di­rect opposition to his agent. The exertions of the latter confined the "disease to the settlements on the Upper Grand river, which were largely composed of Sitting Bull's old followers. 

Bicycling for Women in the 1890's Bloomer Clothing

By Mrs Reginald De Koven.

The development of the exercise of bicycle riding has assumed propor­tions of universality which recall the Egyptian plague of flies; by day and night, in town and country, forked black creatures, with semi-transparent means of locomotion, fly past with bewildering velocity; the human animal has become an air-propelling, exulting creature, with mysterious prehistoric attributes, half beast, half bird.

Invention, the angel of the nineteenth century, has abolished space, shattered time, and now with this wonderful ma­chine, the bicycle, is making a determined onslaught upon sickness and old age, despondency, idleness with its resulting crime, and all the ills which mortal flesh is heir to.

To men, rich and poor, the bicycle is an unmixed blessing, but to women it is de­liverance, revolution, salvation. It is well nigh impossible to overestimate the potentialities of this exercise in the cur­ing of the common and characteristic ills of womankind, both physical and mental, or to calculate the far-reaching effects of its influence in the matters of dress and social reform.

Japanese Geisha Girls

By Alice Nielsen.

After a solid week of the daily grind of sight-seeing, visiting the palace of his Royal Highness the Mikado, the ruler of the island Empire of the Rising Sun, the great lord of the land of the chrysanthe­mum; curious old temples, tea-gardens, the great theater at Tokio; taking a trip to the giant statue of Diuputsu, the bronze god of wisdom, and doing the curio shops, until satiated with far Eastern lore, I con­ceived the idea of visiting the Oriental prima donna at home, and communicated it to the obliging little Japanese guide, who had been our constant companion and adviser since our arrival at Yokohama. I was informed that there was no Japanese prima donna, and could hardly bring myself to believe it. Think of a land of painting, poetry and song, without a prima donna! But such is really the case. Japan has no music of her own, so why have any great singers? There is no denying the fact that, with a decided love for music, the Japanese are sadly unsuccessful in their efforts to make it. They easily learn the airs of other lands and become proficient in the use of foreign musical instruments, and enjoy them, but their national music is intolerable.

Indian Burial Islands on Columbia River Mimaluse Death Islands

By Jennie Lown.

Some of the little islands in the Colum­bia River have ghastly associations. The traveler, intent upon the mountains, will scarcely notice the low, sage-covered stretches of land which every few miles dot the stream, ignorant of the fact that some of them are devoted to one of the strangest practices of the aborigines. The Indians of that region have from time im­memorial brought the bodies of their dead, carefully prepared for preservation, to these islands, where in huts prepared for them they were left to await the summons to the happy hunting-grounds. The in­trusion of the whites has nearly stopped this custom, on account of their molesting and mutilating the dead.

Peking China Chinese Emperor Son of Heaven Li Hung Chang

By Frank G. Carpenter.

Probably no city in the world possesses a greater interest for the American and European, than Peking, the northern capital of the Chinese Empire, from which are sent out the edicts governing nearly four hundred millions of yellow-faced human beings. From it is governed a territory equal to about One-tenth of the earth's surface. Its citizens con­sider it the center of the world, and there are few who do not imagine that all the nations of the globe are tributary to it.

The avenue along which the foreign lega­tions are located is said to be designated by them as the "street of the subject nations," and the ministers from London, Paris, Ber­lin and St. Petersburgh, who reside there, are popularly supposed to be present in Peking for the purpose of acknowledging the greatness of their Emperor to whom their respective governments pay tribute. They rank with the yellow-robed Lamas, the big-hatted Yang-Ban from Korea, and thick-lipped officials from Siam, who bear presents occasion­ally to Peking.

Mardi-Gras King Carnival in New Orleans Comus Knights of Momus

By Mary Bisland.

Sixty odd years ago, after a short but merry life in France, a number of gay  young Creole gen­tlemen half-intoxicated with Parisian pleasures re­turned to the province of Louisiana, resolved to impart at least a semblance of French frivolity to pretty Spanish New Orleans. They had gone abroad, as the scions of all fine families were accustomed to, for the acquisition of European culture and learning. It would scarcely seem, however, from the determined spirit of jollity with which they re-crossed the ocean, that their deep­est impressions were received from lec­ture halls or academy; rather the boule­vards on fête days, when the people en masse went forth to recreate in the sun­shine, and honor meanwhile some con­venient saint or hero. The task they had set themselves was easy enough of accomplishment, for from the earliest days Mardi-Gras in this sleepy Gulf-town had been held an occasion for feast­ing and high revelry. The first colonists from France and Spain had introduced the Carnival customs, familiarizing the  public with the unlicensed fun attendant on that season. To the very questionable propriety at that time of certain brilliant balls on Orleans and St. Louis streets, must be accredited the shade of doubt cast over Shrove Tuesday indulgences. Then, too, numerous street brawls fol­lowed Mardi-Gras maskings. Under their dominos, political and social ene­mies often sought opportunities for aveng­ing themselves, and rarely did the holiday end without one or more fatal encounters. Having no acknowledged leader, and each masker being on the look-out for adventures grave or gay, the results were so serious that the city became aroused to the necessity for a new order of affairs.

Stable of Queen Victoria Royal Mews Buckingham Palace William Norton

By Charles S Pelham-Clinton.

No one walking in the garden of Buckingham Pal­ace would believe that one of the largest stables in England lies behind the high mound of earth ex­cavated from the ponds that look so charm­ing to the eye. The rampart is covered with trees, which help to hide the buildings.  The Queen hardly ever uses Buckingham Palace nowadays except on state occa­sions, and the palace and grounds have rather a deserted appearance. Such is not the case, however, with the Queen's stables known as "The Royal Mews," which adjoin the palace, though apart from it in management. The head func­tionary of the Royal Mews is the Master of the Horse, at present the Duke of Port­land. The salary attached to the office is two thousand pounds per annum and the right to stable a certain number of horses in the Royal Mews. The office goes with the government, and is always given to a man of rank and wealth as well as great political influence.

Fontainebleau The House of Madame De Pompadour

By Julia Magruder.

Driving through the streets of Fontaine­bleau during the spring of the past year, our attention was attracted by a large gateway of white stone, above which we read in gilded lettering the inscription: “Hotel de Pompa­dour." Our party - one of whom was Mrs. Chanler (Amelie Rives) - had been several days in Fontainebleau, but neither guide nor driver nor obsequious hotel keeper had mentioned this house to us as one of the places of interest to strangers. We told our driver to stop, but he met our eager inquiries with a head shake of discouragement. This was indeed the veritable residence of Madame de Pompadour, now owned by the Comte de Gramont, but it was resolute­ly closed to all visitors and sightseers. The glimpses we caught beyond that fast-shut gate were tantalizing in the extreme. There were im­mense old trees with their trunks thickly matted with vines, and their branches weighted with a wealth of feathery green foliage, then in its spring prime, and beyond them glints of the white building were to be seen. Altogether the temptation to explore was irresistible, and we determined to see what could be done toward softening the heart of the concierge, whose snug little lodge was to the right of the great gateway and was approached by a small gate let into the stone wall. The old coachman looked on with a skeptical smile while we got out and rang the bell. It was promptly answered by the concierge accompanied by his little daughter and three small dogs, a pug and two terriers. The little brutes seemed to take it upon themselves to express, by their furious barkings, the repellent negation which we saw written in the faces of the man and child, even before our request was uttered.

Doctor Koch and His Lymph Kochine Physio­logical Society of Berlin

By Julius Weiss, M.D.

There are few events in the history of medicine which have excited such worldwide interest and profound admira­tion as the recent discovery of Professor Robert Koch of Berlin. He is the man of the day. One that lives in Berlin is apt to think that there is but one living man and one live topic worth talking about—these are Koch and Kochine. Before Doctor Koch read his remarkable paper in 1882 (he was then thirty-eight years of age), on the bac­illary cause of consump­tion, before the Physio­logical Society of Berlin, no one had heard of him Yet Koch was for many years before this an ardent student of the micro­scope, and al­though the world knew little of the coming man his numerous friends prog­nosticated a grand future for him. The paper above mentioned de­monstrated to the public that in Koch we possessed an indefatigable worker, a thorough scientist and an insatiable investigator. The com­munication caused universal sensation. The cause of an ever-present plague that destroys human life to such an extent that fourteen per cent. of all deaths are due to it was incontrovertibly proven by Professor Koch's paper to be the growth and multi­plication of germs or bacilli which, either by their own influence or by means of chemical substances they produce, act de­structively on lung tissue and any other tissue that affords a soil for their growth.