mediæval practice differing widely from those of the modern American school. The latter produces as a finished article the "flopper" whose work though successful enough materially, is crude and lacking altogether in the artistic finish necessary to "crust finding" as was presented by such a one as Leon Lemaire. Gustave Rozillard, with his poodles, trained to beg, and Jean Cau, with his dancing bear, represented another division of division of the foreign school-that of the mountebank-mendicant-the same in all essential respects to-day as it was centuries ago. The "blue goggles," or "wheezers," who, with handorgan attachments, were found upon curb and sidewalk, constituted naturally but the rank and file. Above them was an organizer, not of the kind who holds vagrant revel one day and pawns his coat the next, but a man of a different sort, debased by the lust for gain to commit the

worst cruelties.

Such a story was unfolded last spring following the arrest at Morris Park of a fragile little woman who displayed the sign, "Ladies and gents, please help this poor woman; she has three children to support.' A name mentioned with fear led to a call that night in a rear tenement, where two huge wine barrels of men were found awaiting the return of a number of "musicians" who "rented organs" from them, and among whom was the woman arrested, the wife of one. As result, an outward bound French liner carried, some few weeks later, a mother long separated from children, which the anxious father had placed at board in her native town that she might the better devote her energies to begging as an adjunct to his busi

ness of importing carrousels and street organs.

The "Fit

Degeneracy assumes Thrower." strange shapes and surely "fit throwing" is among the strangest. That a man of respectable antecedents should for ten years support himself by such a trick as a preliminary to working upon the feelings of benevolently disposed persons is perhaps worthy of a place in the "Comedie

Humaine." Yet this is the record of a young American but lately released from the penitentiary, who, through mechanical means, is able to simulate heart failure. ing for drugs was his curse; food and shelter were but inferior considerations.

A crav

During his incarceration he was visited at intervals by the Society's agents, who had prosecuted him, and his mind prepared for an effort at redemption. He was welcomed into the family of an indulgent employer. A day later he wrote a letter full of hope for the future and detestation for the past.

Six weeks have elapsed. To-night he sits in a city on the Eastern seaboard, a city before unknown to him, in haunts the knowledge of whose existence is mercifully veiled to the many. An evil camaraderie is his. The fatal syringe is passed from hand to hand. The day is lost again.

Of Wolf's criminal career little is known. When arrested in July, 1901, he had already established headquarters in Chatham Square, in close proximity to the "Dirty Rag," a resort known far and wide as the rendezvous of certain classes of professional beggars and criminals,

In the spring of the year Wolf's counsel elicited from Justice Gaynor a remarkable opinion which, if put into practice would, it is claimed, depopulate the city's correctional institutions and make necessary a new procedure in the police courts. This opinion, attached to the discharge of Wolf upon a writ of habeas corpus, stated that there was no such offense as disorderly conduct, and characterized commitment upon such complaints as an arbitrary and artificial device by which magistrates and police officers "railroad" innocent persons to prison. The statute books, Justice Gaynor declared, define no such offense. Wolf's plea had been that he was arrested in a shed where he had taken shelter, but the officer claimed to have found him on the sidewalk, soliciting alms, hat in hand. The complaint should have been one of "vagrancy," and in characterizing the loose drawing of blanket disorderly conduct complaints, Justice Gaynor delivered a well-deserved rebuke.

Wolf was next arrested in Hoboken and fined $15 for begging. He paid a fine from a $60 roll, and left a boy, who had been his understudy, to serve five days in prison.

It was after his return to New York, and his arrest at the hands of the mendicancy agent, that he introduced the metropolitan police to "yegg" methods of jail-breakingprobably the first mendicant who

lazy, drunken husband whom the

ladies never see.

But what makes "Sugar Bowl" by far the most picturesque street character in New York is her costume, for with abandonment of the wiles of the "black hood" she has appeared in a rare glory of raiment to attract people to her wares. She is the apotheosis of the shopping district. Any afternoon a knot of people may be seen clustered around a figure on Twenty-third Street; a little bent figure, whose style of dress belongs to no particular period.

A black cashmere basque and skirt bring into prominence a girdle, possibly six inches deep, of bril liantly colored cretonne which meets in front over a vest of cream white flannel. Around her narrow shoulders is draped a square of black Farmers satin that may have served its days of usefulness as a lining. This is finished at the throat, as the

fashion writer would say, by a drapery of black chiffon. From her basket of wares she has selected several pins of various hues which hold in place two or three bows of red and blue ribbon arranged as additional trimming on the front of the basque. A cuff of red and pink plaid silk after the style of Little Lord Fauntleroy, adorns one sleeve: the other is encircled where the cuff should be, by a narrow band of the silk. Below is an apron.

Her crown is lost to sight under a broad black straw brim surmounted by an arrangement of blue and white foulard silk. Black ribbon strings serve a double purpose in holding down the hat and keeping in place under the chin a piece of white silk-with a bit of red flannel between. Black cashmere gloves and a cane-and you have "Sugar Bowl."

A Widow's Tares.

The heroic qualities necessary for one frail woman's support of an aged father, an invalid sister, a consumptive son and orphaned nieces are competent to merit and even demand consideration. Possibly the exploitation of such claims from day to day and from year to year is calculated to disillusionize. But given adroit lapses of time between calls, the census of sympathizers is large enough in New York to insure a good income to the person "collecting," and that without undue fear of detection. Mrs. J. C. H————, as she prefers to be called, although like the widow's weeds which she affects in accentuated form, the name and conjugal condition alike convey a misrepresentation; has played such a part for the past few years.

Refined in manner and appearance, vague as to detail, with just a trace of coquetry in the arched eyebrows, she might be a type of the reduced gentlewoman devoted to her helpless kindred, but for a touch of the histrionic in manner, glance just too bold to be well bred, a story of heroism that rings just a little false. This for afterthought;

a

but for the moment Mrs. H, was successful among the financiers upon whom she called. The inevitable came and accusers multiplied. Her gentility faded into thin air and in an hour she was the petty swindler no longer patrician, but depending upon her bartender son and his political backer to secure for her immunity from punishment. She was released upon parole on promise of reform which has yet to be borne out.

A little pamphlet has just been gotten out in the "City of Brotherly

Love" under the title "Short Stories with a Moral," being, as the legend runs, "the first-hand experiences of certain men and women who are striving to replace Philadelphia's charitable crutches with ladders." The pamphlet is illustrative of what it pleases to call the retail method of caring for the needy-the method in fine, of the Society for Organizing Charity in that city. One of the stories can well be incorporated in this number.

man and the

We shall call him M. The French Perigord because that is Dark Glasses. not his name. A citizen had dropped into one of our fifteen offices (which are dotted over Philadelphia's hundred and odd miles for this very purpose of giving both the poor and the charitable easy access to us) and asked our advice about the best way to help a blind Frenchman in whom he had long been interested.

The fellow had roamed our streets for many years with his wife, both singing French songs, but now the

wife was dead. The citizen realized that he had done something less than his whole duty in heretofore giving money only. With this visit began our efforts to untangle Perigord's history.

It took a good many visits to previous residences and a good many interviews with different people before we discovered that he was not blind at all. And yet, to say that he was a fraud and a humbug was not the whole truth either. He had in

jured his sight many years ago, and had found that singing on the street in dark glasses had attracted attention and money-more especially from those who knew a little French

so that, when the eyes grew better it seemed hardly worth while to

lazy, drunken husband whom the

ladies never see.

But what makes "Sugar Bowl" by far the most picturesque street character in New York is her costume, for with abandonment of the wiles of the "black hood" she has appeared in a rare glory of raiment to attract people to her wares. She is the apotheosis of the shopping district. Any afternoon a knot of people may be seen clustered around a figure on Twenty-third Street; a little bent figure, whose style of dress belongs to no particular period.

A black cashmere basque and skirt bring into prominence a girdle, possibly six inches deep, of bril liantly colored cretonne which meets in front over a vest of cream white flannel. Around her narrow shoulders is draped a square of black Farmers satin that may have served its days of usefulness as a lining. This is finished at the throat, as the