The daily morning journal and courier., 1902-07-07
A PANAMA HAT.

A gentleman who was for many years United States consul in one of the large cities of South America, and who has been living with his married sis ter in Washington since the beginning of last fall, is walking around the town these days with an exceedingly questful expression, so to speak. in ms eye. He looks like man looking for something.
 And he is
 He came to Washington, last autumn. says the Post of that city, for his health which had become somewhat de- bllitated after his long residence in a hot climate. He brought vast amount Of luggage to the home of his married sister-clothing for all climates, curios picked up on his travels in the south ern countries, and all sorts of odds and ends. On rainy afternoons it was his sisters delight to go through these many boxes and trunks and sift over the stuff and arrange it around the rooms set outside for the occupancy of the bachelor brother. She told him frequently that he didn't half know of the amount of junk that he had slowed away in his baggage and he ad- mitted it.
 One morning last winter, at break fast, she said to her brother:
 Jack, there's going to be rum mage sale for the benefit of our church fund, next week. and you've got just millions of old things of the riff-raff variety that you might donate if you would"
 "All right" said the brother q do- nate 'em. It's up to you to dig the truck out, though Just wade through the outfit and take the stuff that you want for your rummage sale, and it'll be all right"
 She did.
 One afternoon, a couple of weeks ago, she heard him thrashing around his room, turning things upside down, and muttering to himself. He seemed to be so nightly busy. or worried or something, that his sister finally went upstairs to see what the rumpus was about. She found him standing in the midst of vast disorder. with the stuff yanked out of his trunks and boxes piled in huge stacks all around him. and an expression of some annoyance handkerchief.
 What in the world is it?" she asked her bother-looking brother.
 Its hat" he replied. Did you see anything of a straw hat in going over this gear?"
 What kind of hat?" she asked him.
 Just plain, round-topped, broad brimmed straw hat. with a ridge through the top of the crown" he re- piled.
 "Oh," she replied, indifferently, "that old thing. Yes, sent that over to our church rummage sale last winter"
 The brother gave short gasp and toppled into box filled with queer South American grass-worked rugs.
 Mercy on us" she exclaimed, taking alarm at his queer expression, "what is the matter? Did you have any money or papers or anything tucked beneath the lining of that old hat?"
 "Toodles, Toodles," said the bach elor, weakly, calling his sister by her pet family name, you're a wonder you're a sure thing phenom from away back. Did you take any kind of a look at that lid-I beg your pardon, that hat--at all?"
 Why, mo-" she replied, much per- turbed, "only enough to see that it was an ordinary old thing. and that 1t need ed bleaching or cleaning, or some- thing'
 T thought so," gloomingly replied the brother, signing deeply, and you couldn't have been expected to know anything much about the hat, even if you had examined it closely. How ever, not for the purpose of making you feel bad, but simply as an express sion of fact, will tell you that I paid exactly $250 in gold for that Panama in Rio Janeiro two years ago. that it would have been worth an even $500 up here in the States. and that it was as fine a specimen of a Panama top- piece as was ever woven''
 Whereupon, of course. his sister promptly performed that little feminine ceremony femininely described as