Newspaper Page Text
waa-BDt • very rood Job. The druggist laughed
when 1 applied fw it He said he wanted a
boy. Still he would rather have a big chap like
me if I would be satisfied with the pay. I
didn't promise to be satisfied, but I took the
place. I was tired of looking for work, and
the ft*, money 1 had was getting alarmingly
less. That was the beginning In two years
by hard study. I was a registered pharmacist
and ¦Hilt fair wages, but I wasn't happy I
don't suppose Til ever be regularly happy." al
though IV been nearer that way since I got
into this than I over was before. I never knew
before what it was to have any one', face light
up with welcome when they saw me comlne.
1 never knew before what it was to have my
fellow men cling to me and depend on me and
if.- sweet — sweet!"
He drew a long breath, as if Inhaling a pleas
ant fragrance, and there was a far away look in
his eyes, akin to rapture.
"I studied medicine after 1 received my degree
in pharmacy." he went on. suddenly recalling
himself. ••] covered the course in two year*, and
erot my permit to practise; but somehow— the
same old reason. I suppose— no one turned to
care whether I practised or not. For a few
months I drifts around looking for a location.
Of course. I didn't find it. Young doctors have
to push in these days, and I couldn't push. I
wanted to settle down, but I wouldn't settle in
any place where the people weren't glad to see
me. Finally chance took me in hand. I saw a pla
card at th. door of a recruiting office, and I went
in. It was a matter of sheer impulse. There
were vacancies in the medical corps. My cre
dentials weir good. I enlisted."
"I am glad you are here. Jones." said the other,
and he looked at the tall. Funbrowned surgeon
admiringly. This was not the Jones of seven
years ago. The old Jones had shown few quali
ties to inspire respect, and this was a man who
had proved himself worthy of many things. He
was not SB be laughed at now.
"I am glad to have seen you." said Jones, "but
I leave here to-night, wh'ie you"— he glanced sig
nificantly at the low buildings about the parade
ground— probably remain for some time.
I am off on special duty. I may return here and
I may not. It makes little difference anyway.
Since mother died I have nothing to"
He turned away his head, and his shoulders
shook. His moth v had died in the first month
of his absence. He had not learned of her death
until his letter, written after securing work in
the drug store, had been returned to him with
the word "dec-eased" written appropriately in
bJue across its face Presently he recovered him
"1 may as well tell you where I am going,"
he said. -Possibly some of my old friends will
Inquire for me. You can U-l! them, if you wish,
that there was a post in the South stricken by
yellow fever, and that I went there— to da what
I could— at my own request. 1 would rather
do it than nut. They will ha so glad to see
me, you know — those poor .haps from whom the
others have run away. Ah, it is worth while
to have some one glad to see you! You can't
imagine what it means to a fellow like me. who
was missed somehow when the qualities of per
sonal i harm were distributed. It is so glorious
when one's motives are understood and appre
"I suppose it is." said the other. He was
thinking of the time when this man was the
butt of the village fun, and he was conscious of
a feelinp of shame for the part he had taken in
the cruelty. "Jones," said he. extending bis
hand suddenly, "forgive me."
"Forgive you!" Jones was quite astonished.
"Yes, for— for not knowing you. You are
worth in the eight of Heaven more than all the
rest of us put together.**
"Bosh!" said Jones. But his lips quivered
again, and the clasp of his hand was exceed
ingly warm. "It is good of you to say so. It is
very gratifying to me to have one of my old
friends say that, even if it is not true. I am no
more worthy than I was seven years ago."
It was not reproof, and yet it was. The other
hung his head. "Don't let us talk of it, Jones,"
he said: "don't let us speak of those times."
"Very well," said Jones. And then, with a
suggestion of hunger in his eyes, he said g K»dby.
Six months later the two men met again.
Jones bens the appearance of one to whom
physical rest has been long unknown, but there
was a sparkle in his eyes that the other had
never 1»< fore seen there, and he carried his chin
high, as one who is satisfied with himself. He
greeted the other with something like effusive
ness, and the other wondered, and said so
frankly, whether he was in the habit of assum
iTig a new character twice each year.
"God is very good," said Jones, in explana
tion of the lightness of his heart. "Those peo
ple down there were more glad to see me than I
liad expected. They actually showered me with
blessings — regularly honest blessings, that
entered into mv life and lifted me up. I shall
never look upon yellow fever with horror again.
I doi.t know when I have enjoyed niy»«-lf as I
have during the last six months. There would
}*» little to dread— little of sorrow— in the world
were it not for human ignorance. Possibly it is
better fo. Man would b* a wild, dangerous sort
of animal if his spirit were not subdued with
occasional hot irons. The keenest delight known
to us is that which comes with calamity un
realized. Yes. yes. it is well that we are
"You are a philosopher, Jones.**
"Don't call an old friend names." said Jones
gravely. "One day down there word came from
out in thr» country that a family— a whole fara-
U>- was down with the fever. There was no
XEW-YORK TIIIIiFNE ILLUSTRATED SITPLKMTCNT.
one to give them care. The messenger, a negro
boy. asked if we could not send some one to
them, and it just happened that I was so situ
ated that I couid go. It was too good an oppor
tunity to lose I knew they would be glad to
JM me. It was worth the long ride under the
broiling sun and through the choking dust to
— < an honest, heartfelt, fervent welcome from
soni< of one's fellow creatures. It— was— worth
the while— and— more "
He r. •p-ated the words slowly, moistening his
lips the while, as one does when the memory of
something pleasant lingers.
• it was well that I got there when I did
Tht re w ere three in the family— a man. a woman
and a daughter— a family that had come from
the North for the sake of the mother's health.
Th. ir small plantation was practically isolated,
and they had not feared the fever. They were
nun. unprepared for it. It is not necessary- for
me M tell you of the struggle we had; it is suffi
ciei.t to say that they all lived. And one after
no,, n. when they were convalescent and I was
ab!v to remit the care, which until that time had
'imtunt. I seated myself in a rocking
chair, with the family photograph album upon
my lap 1 did not remain seated long, for among
the first portraits in the book was that of a girl
—a pirl who looked like one I had known-we
had known— at home. I rose to my feet ex
citedly and carried the book to the woman.
pointing with a finger that shook disgracefully
to th. portrait.
" Who is Itr I asked.
4 -My brother's daughter,' she said.
' And her name is'
" "Mary Brown.*
My legs went out from under me then, and
my head buzxed. I was tired out. I suppose. I
collapsed into a chair, and the woman, in her
weakness not noticing, went on talking as some
' My maiden name was Brown.' she said 'I
hsv. -ii t seen my brother's folks fi.r ten years or
¦ore. but we have never ceased to correspond.
Po->r Mary was sick a while ago. The doctors
catlt-d it galloping consumpti n But it wasn't
If it had been she'd have died. The doctors
don i always know, begging your pardon, sir
'Twas something else, like a decline, a kind of
pining away, that was a mystery. Her mother
tkmka now 'twas love for a young fellow— one
of th, harum-scarum sort that lived in the vil
lage ori' c. She thinks so because the girl goi
int i a way after a while of talking in her sleep
—r. plating over and over the fellow's name,
which was Jones. It seems that Jones was her
whole life, and yet. after he'd flirted with her
for a time he went away, and has never been
heard of since. He must have been a heartless
scamp Poor girl"
" 'And she isn't married yetr I as'.ced. My
throat was so dry that I had to exert all my
strength to make my voice audible.
'' 'And y.,u think that, bad as be is and shame
ful as was his treatment of her. she'd be gla^l
to see Jones?"
" There's no doubt of it. poor girl.'
"I left the room then. I couldn't stand it any
longer. I went and threw myself upon th.
ground, and subbed and laughed and kirk -d up
my heels like one gone daft. Khe haJ spoken
my name in her sleep! She wanted me! Sh>
would be glad to see me!
"The quarantine was raised four werks lat-r.
and I went North. It was all true. She was
gUd to see me. She reproached me for goin^'
away from her, and I was sorry clear down to
my feet. But after all— and there's comfort in
it. as I told her— l'm more worth marrying now
than I was then."
"You are going to remain in the service'"' in
quired the other.
"No. I'm going home to settle down at last
home — home! "
There was a rapt expression upon his worn
face, and he raised his eyes reverently to the
"Home." he repeated softly, "horne — horn '"
MIC* SMITH— THIS Id A VEI!Y I'M-I.KAS.WT 1-IBCK. DON'T YOU THINK? THERE'S t.KKTAINI.Y A
GHKAT IMJAI. TO l:K DONE YKT IN THE WAY OF KI.KVATI.M; TUB KTAUE.
Mi: IGKfBi <wi»o hasn't SMS SMi to Ret a BjtSBJM if th» >-i:i r.<- -ill the afternoon >— \VEIJ«— KJJ— IT WOULD
J'JiAi- TO VUGS TUB SAUK THING IF YOU LJU>itUi WEIUi: TO LiOWfilt TOUIt 11ATS!— U'unch.
A NAPOLEON OP SAMOAN FINANCE.
Louis Becke in The Pall Mall Gaxette.
'Reo was a short, squat Malay, with a face like
a skate, barring his eyes, which were long, nar
row slit*, apparently expressing nothing but in
difference to the world in general. But they
would light up sometimes with a merry twinkle,
when the oM rogve would narrate some of his
He came to Samoa in the oM days, long l»efon»
treaties and Imperial Commissioners and other
gilded vanities were dreamt of by us poor, hard
working traders. He seemed to have dropped
from the sky when one afterno >n. as Tom Den
ison and some of his friends sat on Charley the
Russian's veranda drinking lager, he marched
up to them, sat down on the steps and said
'"Hello," said Sehliiter, the skipper of the Anna
Geddeffroy. Who are you? Where do you
He waved a short, stumpy and black clay pipe
to ; nd fro, and replied vaguely, "Oh, from some
Some one laughed, surmising, correctly enough.
• hat he had run away from a ship. Then they
remembered that no vessel had even touched at
Apia for a month Later on he to.d Denison that
he bad jumped overboard from a Baker's Island
guanon.an as she was running down the coast
and swam ashore; landing at a point twenty
miles distant from Ap>a. The natives in the
various villages had given him food, so when he
reached the town he was not hungry.
"What do you want, anyway?" asked Schluter.
"Some tobacco, please And a dollar or two. I
can pay you back."
"When?" said Hamilton, the pilot, incredu
The pipe described a semicircle. "Oh. to-mor
row night; before, perhaps"
The.v gave him BOOM tobacco and matches and
four Bolivian "iron" half dollars. He got up and
went across to Volkner's combined store and
grog shanty over the way.
"He's gone to buy a bottle of square face."
"He deserves it." said Denison, gloomily. "A
man of his age who could jump overboard and
swim ashore to this rotten country should be
presented with a case of gin— and a knife to cut
his throat with after he has finished it."
In about ten minutes the old fellow came out
of Volkner's store, carrying two or three stout
fishing lines, several packets of hooks and half
a dozen ship biscvlts. He grinned as he pass, d
the group on the veranda, and then, squatting
down on the sward near by. began to uncoil the
line 3 and bend on the hooks. Denison was in
ter.sted. went over to him. and watched the
swift, skilful manner in which the thin brown
"Where are you going to fish?" he inquired.
The bread, flat face lit up. "Outsi'e in the
dam deep water— sixty, eighty, fa'am."
Denison left him. and went aboard the ancient,
cockroach Infested craft of which he was the
heartbroken supercargo. Half an hour later
'Keo paddled past the schooner in a wretched
old canoe, whose outrigger was so insecurely
fastened that it threatened to come adrift every
instant. The old man grinned as he recognized
Drnlsw; then, pipe in mouth, he west boldly
out through thi? fr ifrifi between the lines of
roaring surf into the tumbling blue beyond.
At 10 o'clock, just as the supercargo and the
skipper were taking their last nip before turn
ing in. th< ancienl slipped quietly alongside in
his canoe and clambered >'t\ fleck. In his right
hand he carried a big .salmi n-like tish weighing
about twenty pounds. Laying it down on the
deck, be pointed to it.
"Plenty more in canoe lik.' that. You want
Denisoa west to the side and looked over.
The canoe was '"a ed down to the gunwale with
the weight of flsh flnh that the lazy, loafing
Apian natives ca ught but rarely. The old man
narsfd np two or three more, took a glass of
grog and paddled ashore.
Next morning he repaid the borrowed money
and showed Denisoa |15— the retail of his nrst
night's work in Samoa. The saloonkeepers and
"tlier white people said he was a treasure. Fish
in Apia were dear and hard to get.
On the following Sunday a marriage proces
sion entered th<* Rarotongan Chape] in Mata
fele. anil Tar reo (otherwise 'Keo) was unit- d to
one of the prettiest and least disreputable native
girls in the town, whose parents recognized
that 'Reo was likely to prove an eminently
lucrative and s<ju-ezaMe son-in-law. Denison
was best man, and gave the bride a five-dollar
gold piece (having previously made a private
arrangement with the bridegroom that he was
to receive value for it in fish).
'Reo'i wife's relatives built the newly married
couple a h use on Matautu F"int. and 'Reo spent
S.".r» in sriving the bride's local connections a
feast. Then the news spread, and cousins and
second cousins and various breeds of aunts and
half uncles travelled up to Matautu Point to
partake of his hospitality. He did his best, but.
in a day or so, remarked sadly that he could not
catch fish fast enough in a poor canoe. If he
had a boat he could make $50 a week, he said;
and with f. r io a week he could entertain his
Wife's honored friends continuously and in a be
fittir.K manner. The relatives consulted, and
thinkng they had a good thing, subscribed, and
b >ught a boat (on credit) from the German firm,
giving a n-n.rtgage oa a piece of land as security.
Then they presented 'Reo with the boat, with
many complimentary speeches, and sat down to
chuckle at the way they would "make the old
fool work"; and the "old fool" wpnt straightway
to the American Consul and declared himself to
be a iiiizen of the United States, and demanded
his country's protection, as he feared his wife's
rt lalives wanted to Jew him out of the boat they
had giv.n him.
The Consul wrote out something terrifying on
a big sheet of paper and tacked it to the
toat, and warned the surprised relatives that
an American man-of-war would protect 'Keo
with her guns, and then 'Reo went inside his
house and beat his wife with a canoe paddle,
and chased her violently out of the place, and
thr- a:, nttl her male relatives with a large knife
ami f. arful language.
Th» n o took the boat round the other side of
the islarfff and S'>ld it for $-"0 to a trader, and
came back to Apia to Denison, and asked for a
passage to Tutuila; and the German firm entered
Into and took possr ssion of the mortgaged land,
while the infuriated relatives tore up and down
the beach, deinandirer Tarreo's blood in a loud
voice. Tarrco. with his $2UO in his trousers'
pocket, s-at on the schooner's rail and looked at
them stolidly and without ill feeling.
Denison landed the ancient at I* one Bay, on
Tutuila, for he had taken kindly to the old
s ••miniirel. who had many virtues and could give
points to any one. white or brown, in the noble
art of det-p sea fishing. This latter qualification
endeared him greatly to young Tom. who, when
he was not employed in keeping the captain
sober, or bringing him round after an attack of
"d. t.'s." spent all his spare time in fishing,
cither at sea or in uort.
'Reo settled at Leone, and made a good deal
of money buying copra from the natives. The
natives got to like him, he was such a conscien
tious old fellow. When he hung the baskets of
copra on th" iron hook of the steelyard, which
was marked to weigh up to one hundred and fifty
pounds, he would call their attention to the
marks M he moved the heavy "pea" along the
yard. Then, one day, some interfering Tongan
visitor examined the pea, and declared that it
had b>-en taken from a steelyard designed to
weigh up to four hundred pounds 'Reo was so
hurt at the insinuation that he immediately took
th" whole apparatus out beyond the reeT 'ii his
boat and indignantly sank it in fifty fathoms of
water. Then he returned to his house, bade his
wife (he had married again) a sorrowful fare
well, and said his heart was broken by the slan
ders of a vile Tongan pig from a mission school.
He would, he said, go back to Apia, where he
was respected by all who knew him. Then he
began to pack up. Home of the natives sided
with the Tongan. some with 'Reo, and in a few
minutes a free fight took place on the village
pwa, and 'Reo stt>od in his doorway and
watched it from his narrow, piglike eyes: the:#
being of a magnanimous nature, he walked
over and asked three stout youths who had
beaten the Tongan into a state of unconscious
ness and were jumping on his body not to hurt
About midnight 'Reo's house was seen to be in
flames, and the owner, uttering wild, weird
screams of "Fiu ola" "Fia ola" ("Mercy 1 "
¦Mercy!") fled down the beach to his boat, fol
lowed by his wife, a large fat woman, named
appropriately enough Taumafa (Abundance).
They dashed into the water, clambered into the
boat, and began pulling seaward for their lives.
The villagers, thinking they had both gone mad.
gazed at them in astonishment, and then went
back and helped themselves to the few goods
saved from the burninz house.
As soon as 'Keo and the good wife were out of
sight of the village they put about, ran the boat
into a little buy further down the coast, planted
a bag containing $700, with the best of the
trade goods (salv-'d before the fire was disc >v
•¦red). and th^n set sail for Apia to "get justice
from the Consul."
The Coiisul said it was a shocking outrage;
the captain of the United States ship Adiron
dack concurred; and M the cruiser, with the in
jured, stolid faced 'Reo on board, steamed off to
Leone B.iy and gave the astonished natives
twelve hours to make up their minds as to which
they would do — pay 'Reo $1,000 in cash or have
their town burned. They paid $(!00— all they
could rais?— and then in a dazed sort of way
sat down to meditate as they saw the Adiron
dack steam off again
"Reo gave his wife a small share of the plun
der and bom. her home to her parents. When
Tern Denison next saw him he was keeping a
boarding house at Levuka. in Fiji. He told
Denison he was welcome to free board and lodg
ing for a year. 'Reo had his good points, as I
A RAT SHOWED HIM A MINK
From The Mexican Herald.
The action of a rat led N. R. Ingoldsby to the
discovery of a rich gold mine in Arizona. He
named the property the Rat Hole mine.
Mr. Ingoldsby had been spending several
months near Mammoth, on the 3an Pedro Kiver,
in Arizona. His purpose was to enjoy the hunt
ing and make a collection of the animals and
minerals of the Southwest.. He pitched his
t»-nt in the canyon of the San Pedro, in the
Santa Catarina Mountains.
He had no neighbors, and was for a long time
unable to account for the disappearance of small
articles that he left lying about his ramp. At
last he noticed that when anything was taken
something was left in its place. This was usual
ly a bit of stone or wood. The culprit he found .
to he s !'*rce r"dt-nt of the species known as the
trading rat. The habits of the animal made an
Interesting study for Mr. ingoKlsby. ami h
often lay awake at night to watch for his vis
A silver spoon was missing one morning, and
In its place wds h piecv of quartz carrying free
gold. This still more excited Mr. l*goldsby*fl
curiosity, and after several attempts h«- ssje
cfed»d in following the animal to its home.
N»»ar by was the ledge from whir-h the gold bear
ing quartz had been taken. Mr. lnguldsby made
an examination thorough enough t ¦ prove that
his discovery was of considerable value.
THK MYSTKRY OF UfK AND DBA ill
From The I>etroit Journal.
Strictly speaking, of course, a man can't bt
ready to die for two different sirls without lead
toe a double life.