Carrie's Latest Blast

Mrs. Nation's Tirade on Society at the Horse Show.

SHOCKS AND IS SHOCKED IN TURN

Neat Manner In Which Mrs. Alfred Gwynne Vanderbilt Pacified the Kansas "Saloon Smasher," Who Was Bounced by the Police--Exciting Time With Youths In the Cafe.

Carrie Nation of hatchet fame shocked society at the horse show, in New York, the other afternoon, and the crusader in her turn received a severe shock as she was hustled out of the amphitheater by two rude policemen, says the New York Press. As the gates slammed behind her she exclaimed, "There goes the gates to hell!" And then she mounted a barrel in Twenty-sixth street and delivered a tirade against everything and everybody.

Smuggling herself into the arena, Mrs. Nation swooped down on the box in which Mrs. Alfred Gwynne Vanderbilt was sitting with Miss Neilson, fiancee of Reginald Vanderbilt. They were watching the parade of the horses when the "Star of the West" leaned over the rail and whispered in Mrs. Vanderbilt's ear softly:

"Why do you spend your money on clothes and adorning your persons when you should be laying it up in good works that will see your way into heaven?"

Although surprised at the intrusion, Mrs. Vanderbilt was equal to the occasion, for she graciously arose and extended her hand to Mrs. Nation, who continued her lecture: "The good work I am connected with is the establishment of a home for drunkards' wives. Why can't you do something like that?"

Patting the hand of the saloon smasher, having recognized her instantly, Mrs. Vanderbilt replied: "Write to me. Awfully glad to have met you. See me some other time. Good day, Mrs. Nation."

Standing, smiling, at the rail of the ring just below were Alfred and Reginald Vanderbilt. They enjoyed the scene, and when Mrs. Nation passed on they were quick to offer congratulations to Mrs. Vanderbilt for having got out of a difficult situation so successfully.

"She is a lovely woman," said Mrs. Nation of Mrs. Vanderbilt, as she elbowed her way through the crowded promenade, "but she has been brought up wrong. What a lot of good she could do with the money she paid for that white dress she had on! Just look at mine!" And she held up the folds of her black homespun dress. "It may be coarse and rough," she commented, "but it is good enough to cover my sins."

Wending her way to the cafe, Mrs. Nation stopped at a table where four young swells were sipping wine. She seized one of the glasses and dashed it to the floor, exclaiming, "I'll not let you poison yourself with that terrible stuff!"

"Stop your flirting, old girl," spoke up one of the quartet.

"Sir, do you know who you are talking to?" sharply reproved Mrs. Nation, who by this time was the center of a group of the curious.

"Chase yourself!" some one coarsely said, and Carrie looked around with fire in her eyes.

"Chase myself! Chase myself! I'll chase you if I get my hands on you!" she shrieked.

"Bravo!" responded the crowd.

"I'll not let these young men kill themselves," exclaimed Carrie as she mounted a table and commenced to deliver another harangue on "bug juice," as she was pleased to call champagne.

It was then that the patrolmen put in an appearance.

"Take a sneak for yourself," said the taller one gruffly.

"Sneak? You're a sneak!" replied Carrie, and they carried her to the door. The minute the police laid hands on her she threw away her Bible and asked heaven to help her in her struggle with the terrible Tammany tigers.

In Madison square she was prevailed by her press agent to deliver another discourse on the indecency of society.

"That's the play," said he. "All right," she replied, jumping on top of a barrel.

"I cam here to see the upper crust and the dregs of society, as well as to see the horses," she began. "I am very fond of horses. They are mentioned in Revelation, but I suppose you do not know that. But the women! They are shocking in their attire. Why don't they spend their money for some good cause like the one I am promoting? They will drink themselves to death. 'Take them clothes off,' I told them. 'Take them off at once, and dress yourselves more modestly.' The young men are drinking stuff in there that will send them to hell; yes, to hell."

"Where is your hatchet?" shouted one of the urchins in the crowd.

"This is my hatchet!" she cried, as she held a Bible above her head. "I haven't any ax. This is the best weapon with which to fight the devil. If some of you were a little more familiar with it you would be better men."

Then she went to her hotel.