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Show Capital City Full of Uniforms. Without Glitter WASHINGTON. Washington, in a few central respects, must in these days remind a Civil war veteran of the time when the capital swarmed with the soldiers 'of the Union. There were certainly never more generals and admirals on tlie streets in 1 801-05 than there are today, writes "Nomad" in the Boston Transcript. Uniforms are as numerous on Connecticut avenue as civilian suits. The atmosphere of the place is military. Rut the Civil war veteran, suddenly dropped down in Washington now, would not know the city for a war city nevertheless. This drab dress, this intensely neutral cloth, would not represent soldiering to' him at all. It would seem to betoken some sort of custodianship at a club or a public institution. Not a sword at a man's side not a gun on a man's shoulder! Gold lace conspicuous by Its absence from soldiers, though to be sure, the admirals are still permitted to wear It. All the people bustling madly about like a lot of bank messengers or parcel boys, intent upon nothing noth-ing but business. Instead of soldiers bivouacked on' vacant lots, as in the Civil war, Washington is full of great barracklike, temporary buildings. . mostly made of some kind of stucco, though some are of wood, within which hundreds of women are writing in a whirling fashion on typewriters. Mixed up with these women are men in these drab suits, either superintending or interfering with their operations. This war. so far as the casual visitor at Washington can observe. Is being fought by a woman with a typewriter. All the space that was occupied during the Civil war by the war department depart-ment and all Its officers, clerks and servants would scarcely suffice today for one of the numerous bureaus of the department which were entirely undiscovered undis-covered in 1805. And consider that in 1801-65 the typewriter did not exist, and that every letter, order, memorandum, record and reference was written by hand I Patron of Sand Art Reminds of Other Pictures THERE is one woman in this town for whom Michael Angelo lived in vain. You couldn't call It a personal grudge, seeing she had never heard tell of him until another woman happened to sav things about his art and at that, all she did was to claim that no , painter ever made better pictures than the ones she saw on the beach at Atlantic At-lantic City. There are times when argument Is eo much language gone to waste, and this seemed to be one of the times, besides: be-sides: The woman who had backed Angelo An-gelo knew that the patron of sand art was visioning with memory-eyes, some dabber under the board walk, who was I doing fat angels and things to the fall of nickels, -while she leaned over the railing with a companion who had kept loving step with her womanhood until they came to a cemetery gate. Then she began to recall past pictures. Here's one: A blue sea billowing into a beach, with two soldiers drawing straight lines on the sand to let the waves know how far they may roll in. His Royal Foolishness, inside the lines, sits in his throne chair to see that the sea obeys his orders, and while he does it the breakers crash in and in and In ; over the lines, up to the throne chair as if any Canute that ever lived can hope to own a world that belongs to the people thereof Here's a better one : A park In Syracuse, with Archimedes on a bench drawing mathematical circles In the sand. You can see that the Roman invader rushing toward him Is about to cut him down, and that Archimedes knows it. But there are more Important things to be considered. "Don't spoil the circle !" You can hear his warning cry as his blood soaks Into the sand, but you know that Archimedes did not die, because he is living now. And will keep on living so long as there is an earth and men on It, with stars above and waters beneath, and This Is the best one of all : Another place of sand with -a white-robed Figure stooping to write a sentence Changes Wrought in Washington by the War PENNSYLVANIA avenue used to be a stately thoroughfare on which you could promenade nonchalantly from the capitol to the White House, view-. view-. ing at leisure the massive government buildings, the souvenirs in the curio shops, the marble statuary and the creeping trolleys. It still has the same old shooting galleries, and the "rooms for 50 cents," and the hand-painted Martha Washington china plates and the miniature Washington monuments, monu-ments, with thermometers attached, in the shop windows, but Pennsylvania today is an AppiaH way along which surges constantly a continual stream of elbowing, energetic, endless humanity human-ity and vehicles. Potomac park used to be a place where you could ride dreamily along In your open barouche on a Sunday afternoon with an occasional occa-sional nod to a passing cabinet officer or congressman; now It Is a North sea, where on a splendid spring Sabbath is mobilized a fleet of allied "joy wagons" wag-ons" that strive constantly for the sane privilege of pursuing the even tenor of their way unmolested. If the city of Washington Is ever threatened by an unexpected Invasion, ai was Paris In the early days of the war, the secretary of war has only to commandeer the motorcars In the District of Columbia as Galllenl mobilized the taxicabs of Paris, and he. can rush up troops enough from Camp Meade ami Camp Meigs and marines from Quantico, Va., to save the day. What She Thought About the Early Spring Hat SHE looked as If she hid stepped ont of a fashion sheet Into the car. Being a sunshiny day with chill streaks In it, she had combined a fur coat that rippled down to boot tops of gray kid with a hat of glazed gray straw guarded In front by a steel quill cut In the shape of a sword. But you can't always tell what sort of impression you are going to make on the everyday human mind. Two passengers good-hearted, double-chinned daughters of the people seated across, considering Madam Fashion Sheet from the viewpoint of wearers of tabby black velvet hats bought last fall to wear until warm springtime and maybe after. The one who was pony-skinned whispered admiring ad-miring astonishment, but the other. p& IJ com I vt? coated in a weave that began somewhere in New England as Persian lamb, voiced criticism with a loudness that showed for excellent lungs. "Well, sir, before I'd wear a light stniw bat on a cold day like this, with a fur coat like that, I'd stay home. Don't look worried over It, neither." "Well, it's tlie fashion an' you gotta follow fashion If you got the spons everybody does. I think It's kinder stylish, myself. Must be cold to the head, though." "I should say so. You don't hafter wear straw hats before Easter just because the stores put 'em In the wlnd'rs. A woman with all them clothes oughta sure have souk; scraps home to make herself a warm hat for weather like this. Before I'd come out In a summer hat like that on a day like this I'd cut off a piece of my coat ami make me a turb'n you can get ny shape yon want for ten cents." "My gracious, woman, y.ou wouldn't ruin a dandy coat like that, would you? That coat cost money and look at Daisy Blankers. She bad on a white straw hat at the movies the other night." "She's nothln' to go by the poor coot only gettln' five a week and weiirln' yell'r nhoeB almost up to her knee J'lntsl That woman looks as If the made good money but all I gotta say Is she don't show sense to match." Uut lihe did hv more to say, only enough Is always enough. |