Newspaper Page Text
- -.,*,4
EII LAFAYETTE GAZETTE.
V:: OLUME- I. LAFAYETTE, LA., SATURDAY, APRIL 8, 1893. NUMBER 5.
- &hXTEWRS CAREER.
- .Wby - h Consented to Bee Ut
. Throngh Woodeon's Eyes:
TIe dining-car was in a shimmer of
' 1 ight=1-The dead white of heavy linen,
the opsalscent glint'of glassware and'
thee giet gleam of silver trembled to
getiera in the swift motion of the train.
iass Baxter, who had but recently
:leffor berth, dropped into a seat and
leaned back a moment, dazed by this
lavish waste of color. Then she hast
ened to draw the curtain and throw
the blue square of shade over her cor
ner of the table, sighing as she settled
down Vain and all the painful scene
of b.he .evening before came surging
baik.
She Yelt alf a notion to lay her head
oq the )'6le and cry outright She
Iglscowa instead and fingered her
ring--Jl~ ing--while her glasses grew
misty. She wondered whether she
should;have kept the ring now that it
njonger meant anything,
The question was still undecided
wnaelu ho'puJlecd herself together with
a visible tremor and turned to the
menu card. Dining-car breakfasts are
not titned to wait on the settlement of
subtleties i, ethics, particularly after
the stewartlias made the "last calL"
In the few-minutes Miss IBaxter hrd
been in the car she had not noticed
her con anions. As she raised her
?head she vwa startled to see a familiar
face dimiy taking shape across the
table.
She hadVjcmovcd her glasses and was
about to press her handkerchief to her
eyes,; bi s put them resolutely on
again a dlkcd fixedly through their
misty crystals.
"Mr. WVoodson, where did you come
front?" she demanded at length, as his
well-known features gradually took
definite shape before her.
Woodson did not speak at once. Ii
was noticing how hIir hair would tum
ble down in wayward ringlets in spite
of her efforts to keep it staidly back,
and how her cheeks persisted in dim
pling, however iasolutely she closed
her lips together. Then lie said:
"From New York. of course. Does
my dress suit look as though I'd
boarded the train in these rural pre
cincts? 1 thought{.you knew the cut
better."
"Do you men to say that you've
been on this train all this while-after I
- after last night?" Miss Uxtcr asked
W.ith slightly heightened color.
"Guessed it the first time." \Voodson
exclaimed, brightening. "I tell you,
Grace, you should have gone into the
law insteadl of art. You'd have been
great on cross-examnination."
"Never mind, Mr. WVoodlson: you
seem to forget that I prefer to make
my own cureer-wiv e discussed that
before, however. And so you've been
on this train ever since I have?" she
concluded, reflectively.
"A little longer, in fact. Inut now,
see here, small girl," \Voodson went on
with great deliberateness, shaking out
his napkin into his lap and gazing in- v
tently into 'the blurred blue depths of d
Miss Baxter's glasses; "see here, now.
do you suppose just because a girl jilts
mIn"--31i.s Baxter here Interposed a
deprecating gesture--"yes, I repeat it L
I)o you suppose because a girl jilts me h
and I have reason to believe is going i
to the ends of the earth to get where a
she will never see me again, that my h
sense of responsibility ends till I've
seen her safely where she wants to go
to! No, I've made New York uninhab- C
itable for you, and I shall make what
amends I can by chaperoning you to
Colorado or Kamschatka or wherever c
it is you are going. Now, what shall I a
order for breakfast?" I
"Ilarry, you're cruel. You know -Mr. d
Fleming was going out there for the b
color, and I thought it would be a good "
chance to continue nvy outdoor work," d
"Flcming! That prig! WVell, I didn't h
kanow before that he was going. 1 see
there is still more reason why I should si
go now-and stay." ti
"lBut I t)rlid you doing any such tl
foolish thing." ' -
'o tell the truth, /;racc. I thouht P
of staying all the time-of going into a
some other business there. "' h
"W\hy, you never told me of it be- n
fore." i
"\Vell, I never thought of it till after
I left you last night. Then it occurred tl
to me I might go into the sheep or cat- d
tie business or something like that."
"At Manitou?" ai
"Why not?" ai
"It's a summer resort."
"So much the better. I'd only be a1
there in the sunmmer. anyhow. S
"LHarry, you're a trifler." p1
"Well, I can peel an orange, anyhow
-if you'll allow me," WV'oodson ex- qi
claimei taking from her hand the on~ t
she *as making a sad mess of.
"Harry. I can never forgive you for
doing this," liss Baxter concluded,al
after a moment's contemplation of the he
whirling blur of green through the car he
window.
"'Well, I never could have forgiven gl
myself if I hadn't-and there it is." he fr
asserted, dispassionately, laying the gi
pulpy, broken sphere of the orange be
fore her. te
It is quite a jaunt from Manhattan
to Manitou. i
What color there was! The earth gi
seemed hung in some rarer medium C
than common air. The yellow cactus c
blossoms were like flakes of flame. A
scarlet flower fairly burned into the le
ight. re
Grace developed a new enthusiasm
every '.ay and piled her palette with
cobalt and chrome. Even Fleming,
who had preceded them, smoked a trifle hi
faster than usual and grunted out now
and then: "Put in your color pure. pr
Make her jump" ve
So tb*"y painted from morning till ed
night, keeping two or three studies te
under way at once-putting in blues
where Woodson saw greens, and pur- th
ples whore he saw nothing but nonde- an
script sand, and doing all the inexpli- i pa
cable things that should be done nea
cording to the gospel of the nluministes. iii
WooTTds~ - at by and chafed. ITew
coudn't paint He wouldn't smoke. wi
HeUs rred Ganea' ooslonal uquirtpg j vrl
eglaine. bys expaau tn t he ws in*
gotiating.to go into the cattja.business
-a man was going to bring him a herd
on triaLL
M Meanwhile he arrayed his shapely
figure in cow boyish top boots, blue
shirt and slouch hat, which became him
of immensely and made a sinister impres
n, sion among the blazers and tennis suits
kd. of summering Manitou.
.. Grace was absorbedt and satisfied.
n. One day an idea struck Woodson.
v "'Grace," said he, 'I found a little bit
d down here the other day tht.t I'd like
is to have you sketch-to send home, you
t- know. You'll do it, won't you?"
w "Why, of course. I'll speak to Mr.
r- Fleming."
:d "Oh, hang MIr. Fleming." Woodson
1e broke in. "Fleming's all right in his
ig way, but I want you-your sketch, you
know."
i The place was quite adistance away,
ie over the mesa. 'hey set out for it the
;r next day.
w "Hero it is," Woodson exclaimed,
1e after quite a tramp, pointing over the
it burning plain to where a row of cot
tonwoods were banked against thesky,
d tremulous in the vibrant air.
h "There, do that; call it 'A Hundred
e in the Shade,' or something like that."
e "It doesn't seem to compose very
,f well," Grace murmured, holing the
r tips of her fingers together and inclos
ing the. picture in a rosy frame through
d which she gazed, half shutting her
d eyes in truly artistic intentness.
r "Well, never mind that; g the
r character of it. You know Flem
e ing says the character's the thing.
That's what I want-the character
8 the true character of this beastly coun
try."
n So Grace donned her big blue apron
r and set to work with her biggest
brushes.
e But somehow she had trouble. The
s quality of that shy, burning with light
k and yet deep in hue, did not seem to
Veside in cobalt, however fresh from
'ilB tube. The value of the stretch of
plain, tremulous under the flaring
e heavens, disturbed her, too, and when
she came'to put in the airy wall of cot
tonwoods along the horizon the whole
thing ended in a painty muddle.
"Oh, I can't do anything to-day."
Grace exclaimed petulantly, wiping
her troubled brow with the back of
her hand and leaving a streak of blue
on her forehead that intensified her
puzzled look.
"Why don't you put those trees in
r green?" WVoodson asked with serious
concern, as Grace renewed her strug
gle with the regulation blues and
purples.
"But I don't see them so," she niur
mured, in a moment of absorbed
effort.
"(;race," he blurted out almost be
fore he knew it, "I don't believe you
see anything. Excuse me, but I don't
believe you ever did. I don't believe
in your art; I don't believe in your
career; I don't believe in your inde
pendence. You're simply spoiling the
nicest girl in the world with it. You
see things blue and purple because he
does; and he-well, he sees things that
way because some fellows over in Paris '
do, and I dcn't believe in it. There,
now. I've said it; come."
lut it was not arranged that he C
should finish what he had to say. Hie
had looked down to the ground where
he sat as he spoke of Fleming. 1,l~en
he looked up (;race was several feet
away from him, hurrying down the j
hill with her head bowed.
"I'm a brute--a miserable brute!"
Woodson remarked to himself with I
considerable force as he watched her
striding toward the half-dry creek.
There was a plum thicket along the
creek, and after watching Grace dis-f
appear within it WYoodson set about
picking up her skcetching kit. This
done, it occurred to him that it would
be a proper pennance on his part to
,wash her brushes--he had always hated
dirty brushes so. Gathering them up,
he started toward the creek.
When lie got there he could see no
signs of Grace. Could it be that any- t
thing had happened to her? The
thought made him catch his breath for f;
.. moment. lie knew she was im- }1
pulsivc--capable of any rash move in
a moment of exci ement Then he,
heard a stirring in the plumu thicke tl
and came face to face upon her in a
little opening, crying softly to herself. n
"G;race!" he called. "Why, what's r
the matter? 1 know I'm a brute, but I b
didn't think'you'd take it so."
"'Oh, can't you help me?" she pleaded, l
and began groping about and feeling ti
aimlessly with her hands. 9
lie saw that her hair was loosened a
and that her wrists and face were ft
scratched and bleeding in a dozen %T
places.
"Why, what's the matter?" he 61
queried again, as she came groping o,
toward him and stumbled against him. fc
"Can't you help me at all?"
"Of course, I can, snmall girl; you're re
all right Nothing shall touch you." g
he reiterated as his arms closed around se
her. ci
"Oh, silly, can't you see I've lost my pi
glasses?" she exclaimed, pulling away o0
from him and flushing red among the tk
greenery. But he held her tight., in
"You don't want them; you see bet- bm
ter without them, blue eyes. Confess in
now, you never really saw before. gi
Give up trusting in those wretched w
glasses and trying to be independent. 1
Come, see your career through my "1
eyes." cc
But still she held back at arm's di
length, really defiant. She seemed p
ready to cry and then smiled instead. fi
"You'll get my glasses if I promise?" T
lie nroddled. cr
Suddenly throwing her arms about th
his neck, she said: a
"I always liked your eyes," and ga
pressed a kiss on either lid. "May be I
youll were right about my art," she add- fe
ed, seriously. "But-this needn't in- gr
terfere, need it?" n
"Interfere! \Vhy. I'll tell that man or
that I've decided not to take his cattle th
and we'll turn the whole herd Int A
paint." . th
Then hlie rea:hed over and carefnllh at
diseng'aged her glasses from the ti-ig m
whe'e he had seen them hangitg ve
when he entered the t.hieket.--G. MsIl- m
yulo Upton, in LKt e Fe~l4'e Washing l
tee* 9,
-st FOREIGN GOSSIP.
rd
-Hungary is stated to be the country
ly where railway traveling is the cheap
me esat It is said to be possible to journey
m I from Burfa-Pesth to Kronstadt, a dis
s- tance of five hundred miles, for six
ts shillings and eight pence, being at the
rate of six miles a penny. Low as this
d. price is it is liatle to a reduction of
one-half in the case of laborers journey
lit ing in parties of not fewer than ten.
ce -It is proposed to establish an epi
)u leptic colony near London where epi
leptics of both sexes can be employed
r. and pioperly cared for. The lord chan
cellor, Dr. Ferrier, Sir Andrew Clark
m and many leading physicians recently
is addressed a public meeting in support
,u of the plan. Ten "*thousand pounds is
required to found the colony, and over
v, two thousand pounds was quickly sub
to scribed.
-A gentleman sends Labouchere's
-1, Truth a suggestion as to decimalizing
,e the British system of moneys, which
t- would have the advantage of retaining
v, the existing coinage. lie divides the
pound into one thousand new farth
:d ings. Florins would, therefore, be
one hundred farthings; shillings, fifty
*y nine farthings, and sixpences, twenty
e five shillings. On each coin the value
s- in farthings would be clearly stamped.
hi -French war office experts are di
r vided in opinion concerning the value
or danger of Eiffel's tower in case of a
0 siege of Paris. (ermann staff officers
t- have written quite freely about the
Smatter, principally holding the view
that the tower would afford a fine tar
g- et. Some French officers agree with
this view: others say that the forts
n around the city would keep the tower
it out of range, while it would afford an
excellent post for observation.
e -Ten or twelve years ago a disease
appeared among chestnut trees in
o France, destroying them in great num
n bers, and the wood could notbe utilized
for heating purposes.- Quantities of it,
however, were us-ed in tanning leather,
a as chestnut wood contains five or six
per cent. of tannic principles, whereas
oak contains only three or four per
cent. One est-blishment uses annual
ly from ~0,000,000 to 3., 000,000 kilo
grains of chestnut wood, paying there
for about 130.000 francs per annum,
Stl.us reducing the losv sustained by the
r land-owners from this timber disease.
-One of the most fashionable and ex
pensive dressmaking establishments in
Paris has a wonderful "try-on" into
,which only the most particular, fash
ionable and wealthy customers have
ever been admnitteid. It is a square comn
1 partinent, has no visible window, but
is lighted by a splendid electric cllan
delier. The pile of the white velvet
carpets is so thick that one's feet sink
in it, and the most prominent object in
the room isan enormous mirror, framed
in white plush. If that mirror could
reproduce but half of the beauty which
it has momentarily reflected, it might
be irresistibly attractive.
-The smallest country in the world
is said to be the territory of Moresnet,
iwhich lies between ielgium and (Ger
many. Its 2,000 inhabitants are mostly
occupied in tin mining, although agri
culture is also, engaged in. Military
service and election days are unknown.
The senate of ten metml ers is appointed
by the mayor, who is chosen by two
delegates, olle fit-o liIgium and one
from G;ermnany. Tl'he police force con
sists of one mannn. whose salary is pro
vided by the a nnuall revenue (about
1,200 francs(. whicih also maintains the
roads and schools. The territory was
declared independlent in Isl i, to settle
the dispute wv'hen the boundary was
fixed betwveen (ernlmany and lielgiumn,
both countries vwanting its tin mines. 1
It contains onil two and a half square
mniles.
HINDOO TRADITIONS.
One TIhat ALre- in t1ie Nmain it)rtall with
()ur lHlileal Acolnllt of lhe 'lood.
It may be said without fear of con
tradiction that at least two-thirls of
the nations and races of the gluobe have
some tradition (in iitany cases very
faintl of what we eall'the delugi e ior
fle,,d of Noalh. li India these mnyths
or semi-sacred lege-nds iappear in many
forts, onlie t atatlIas. tht contained in
the litonhio Mlahabharata. agreeing t
with our biblical account in all of its
main details. Itrahmn did not "spekr.
with a voice of thunder from a cloud,".
but appeared to .Mann, the lindolo's
Noah, in the form of a fish, this on the
River \Virini. From thence he iwas I
transferred to the (.angles, having v
grown too large for the 1Virini. and n
after an astonishing increase of bulk s
from disporting in the sacred rir- r he p
was transferred to the Indian ocean. t
Blut even here Manu (.Noah) was within p
speaking distance, and it was from that h
ocean's depths that BIrahma gave orders 'i
for the building of a great life-saving h
vessel (ark). Manni did as lBrahma di- s
rected, and on the approach of the as
great flood took good care to stow away i
seeds of all kinds as well as the living c
creatures of the earth. Last of all he ti
provided quarters for the seven Rishic h
or holy being, which were to outride I)
the storm. Then the flood came, much
in the same way that that of Noah did.
but tile account dirs not say in as h
Inany words that "the fountains of the
great deep were broken lip and the
windows of lleavn were opened." e
WVhen the flood was "well on.' and
"the whole surface of the earth was
covered in water to a depth of one hun
deed and fifty cubitr.'" Brahma ap- ri
peared to MIanu in the form of a great
fish swimming alongside the vessel.
This Brahlna fish was an enormous
creature with a gigantic horn, and to
this born Manu lashed his vessel with
a stout rope of virgin's hair. Then ie
gan a series of wanderings that throw
Ilysvses and the "IFlying Dutchman'a"
feats into the shade. For years the
gi-eat vessel plunged hither and thitlher, at
now on this side of the globe and then ul
on that. but always at the mercy of gi
the godfish, the horn and the hair rope. ai
After an age of aimless plunging ove .i
the great sphere of water the outlook I n
at last catchesl a glilnpse of land, or. ta
more properly, i-~twk, for it was tihe tl
-very apex ot Mount liimr·rat (probably t1
meaning hilghest peak of the ima- w
layass), and to that point the f8h pilot a
e*ere4 the groat orbit, 0Go4 ow *1p.
pears on the scene and gives orders for
the hair rope to be removed from the
ty Brahma fish's horn and its transfer
oP ence to a solid column of stone on the
Y n-mountain peak. God also commanded
Sthat the mountain would ever after be
ix known as Alount Naubandhana, which
he means "mountain of ship-binding."
us After the subsidence of the waters the
of powers of God, Brahma and Manu
y- ((Noah) seem to have been strangely in
terwoven; for, we are told, "after the
- flood, by favor of Brahma. Manu crc
i- ated a new race of people, which from
ed that time forwar4 were known as
n- Manudsha or people born of Manu."
rk St. Louis Republic.
ly
rt WHY THEY MARRY FOREIGNERS.
is Some American Girls Prefer the (;eG.nine
er Aristocrat to the Apinh HIoute Article.
A woman writer in the current num
ber of a well-known magazine, whose
's words indicate she is in touch with both
ig ends of her subject. tells why it is so
:h many wealthy American girls choose ti
kg tied foreigners for husbands. From her
le point of view the reason is as simple as
h- it is plausible. The great majgrity of
)e men in this country whose we'lth or
y- famil.y connections entitle them to move
"- 'in the "first circles of society" feel it
le their duty to ape die customs and man
d. nerisms of titled and even untitled for
fi- eigners. They ape the latter in every
te conceivable particular and are never
a so happy as when they have achieved
rs some especially nauseating bit of toady
le ism. To them providence is never kind
w er than when it has brought into
r- their midst sotme broken-doivn scion
.h of nobility upon whom they can
ts lavish their adulations and from whom
'r they can learn some new wrinkle in
n foreign snobism. To get as far from
everything American in their mode of
te living, and to become as near like the
n people upon whom the accident of
a- birth has placed a title is their chief
d and, in niany c:ses, only ambition.
t, This being so, the writer in question,
maintains that it is only natural that
x American girls with money and posi
s tion should pass by the imitation and
!r seek the genuine: that instead of be
1- stowing herself and her fortune upon
>- the American ape she should marry the
foreigner who is aped.
, etween the two classes it is hardly
e possible for the American heiress to go
far wrong in choosing the foreigner.
VWhile there is nothing so wholly
Imanly as a manly American, there is
, nothing so utterly useless and disgust
ing from eve, y point of view as the male
e caricature who is only happy when
toadying to sickly scions of foreign
t "nobility." 'nfortunnately what are
Smistakenly termed the "best" circles of
t American society are so thickly
Sthronrged wilth this 'pitiful class that
n the self-respecting young women w-hc
- belong to these circles must either lookl
: abroad for their husbands or remain in
single blessedness.
t The moral of all this is so plain that
it ought to have no difficulty in pene
trating even the thick heads of those
who should benefit 1by- it. The true
American girl doesn't warnt to gc
through life tied to an imitation. As
foreigners our young men can he noth
ing more, and the sooner they drop the
foreign mannerisms which so illy be
come them and quit aping those who at
their best are no more than their equals
the quicker will our wealthy girls give
up marrying titles and take to marry
ing nmen. But there is little hope that
tsuch a change will be w'rougfht much
this side of the inill'nninr.--Troy
PI'ress.
Tihe Old Venetlan Caraih-al.
TPhe carnival then lasted six nonths,
and masking was a uiniversal ihabit. It
has been said that in the beginning the
mask ivas a token of fr:atelrnal conl
descension on the part of the rich aind
noble toward their inferiors. It leveled
all ranks, like the grave, thourgh in a
more ag-reea ile manner. hit this
utopian justification of it soon pass'ed
out of date. It, became ,instead the
very best possible vehicle for intrigue
andI social corruption. That in effect
wRas what it was. luring carnivzal time
no one thought of going orit of lidoors
except in disguise. The mail sent on
an aerrand imust first don her Itniak ---ofi
which no doubt her lover .or liver-, had
the ke-y. The mother i -ith a child in
her armns masked both herself and the
child--Fort nightly Review.
Iow to n lealre a tlaver.
Anlybody can Ineasure, apnloximnate
ly, the breadth of a river without a sur-i
veyor's comnpass or any nleehanii'al I
means swhatever. The man who de
sires to make the exlperimnent should
place himself at the edge of the stream,
then stand perfectl. still, face the op
posite bank and lower the brim of his
hat until it, just cuts the opposite bank.
Then let him put both hands under I
his chin, to steady his head, and turn
slowly round until the hat brim cuts
some point on the e-vel gritund behindl
him. Mlark thespot s-here the hat hrin m
cuts thIe groundl. then pace off the dis
lance and it will hue found about the
bremdth of the river.-St. Iouis G(lobe
Democrat.
A Kingla Remmiais.
The dean of Gloucester claims to
have discovered that the remains rof
Osrii', lking of Northumbria, who was
buried A. T. 710. lie bIeneath the shrine
erected to his memory in the famoust
old abbey of (;loucts-.,er. The shrine
was erected in the days of Hcnry VIII,1
and was supposed to ibe merely . mern. -
rial. If the claim is proved it gives to
(iloucester the distinction of contain
ing the oldest known remains of the
Saxon kings. iragments of the r-e
mains of two other Naxon kings are in
Winchester and Durrham cathedral.
N. Y. Sun.
In tlHollrnil.
Many of tte country dames and darn- I
sels look as if they had been brought
up on soap and "xiater. Their faces
glisten so preternattrally; their pots
and pans. the red tiles of their floors.
their tables and benches all bear s-it
ness so unmiatakably to theircleansing
ardor. I suppose a fly in the hurter
they were churning, or a minred foot ,n
tne boards they nave but Iust scrubLbel. I
would be as nearl' likely to give them b
a fit as anything ould oe.--Ch iber's a
IJorlnal, I -
or A GHOST ON SENTRY.
lie
_ The Corporal's Thrilling Tale of the Zole
Ile war.
Sd ome of the old-timers in the British
be army are excellent story-tellers, and
hI the guard-room, where they are wont
to hold forth, is the place above all oth-
era to hear a good yarn. Here is one
u told by a lance corporal of the -th
1_ regiment, which had lately returned
e from the camnpaign in Zululand, in the
_- rain Guard, "'D" lines, Curragh camp.
SIreland.
"s Of course you've heard." he said, ad
_dress-ing himself more particularly to
a recruit who had shared in the glories
of disasters of thab untoward war,
. "how two companies of our regiment
were left at 1- to guard a part of the
comnmissariat train while the main body
went in chase of a horde of Zulus
which we had that day encountered.
'"Of course, too, you've heard how
i they failed to return as soon as was ex
i- pected, and how night came on and
found our little band isolated and at
a the mercy of thousands of the fierce
,f enemy, who were lurking all around in
the dense bush.
"Perhaps you know how our dear
it captain--(ob bless him-had the bags
- of flour, the biscuit tins and wagons
formed into a small breastwork
around us, and how at dawn the next
y morning, by their aid, we swere ena
bled to beat off the attack of the
enemy, who outnumbered as ten to
one; how the captain, next evening,
w \hen help was still delayed, assembled
the men. telling them that the only
chance he saw of rescue was to sum
nlon assistance: that he could see no
n hope of anyone escaping with his life
n through the enemy's lines, and on that
f account would undertake the task him
self.
"Scores of us volunteered to go, but
he wouldn't hear of it, only begging us
if he fell to bear evidence of his mo
tires. so that no misconstruction might
be put on them: after handing over
i- the command he did escape the enemy's
vigilance and brought back succor; how
he was tried by court-martial for cow
Sardice in deserting his post and how
our evidence sased him.
"lIut this you don't know, my lad.
that had it not been for a ghost the
Ssuccor would have been too late, and
not a nmother's son of us would have
lived to hear the huzzas of our brave
fellows as they came in the nick of timenc
and drove the yelling fiends before
them.
n "As soon as the captain crept out of
the square under the shade of falling
c night the sentries, of course, were
f doubled, partly, it's plain, because foul
eyes are better than two, and partly tc
t inspire confidence, for I can tell you
that sentry go is jumpy work on a
night when you can't see a yard in
front of you, and you expect every I
minute that a black devil will spring
out of the gloom and stir up your vitals 1
Swith his infernal assegai.
E "I was one of the detail for duty that I
night, and it so happened that my sec
ond spell occurred during the two hours
just previous to dawn, when an attach I
Smight bie expected.
"hBack and forward I and my rear
rank man paced as silently as we could.
t and peering more and more anxiously
into the surrounding gloom as dawn v
approached. Sudllenly. as I turned on I
Smy beat, I saw Tommny Saughtier as
plain as I see you now, pacing in front t
of mc. t
"Now. Tommy had been killed the
day before: and. what's more, couldn't. t
in an ordinary way have seen any man
under the circumstanecs. It's always
darkest before dawn. you knowv.
"I paused a moment, fairly stag
gered, with the cold perspiration a-pour- '
ing off cme, and as I did do I saw a Zulu
spring out of the darkness and drive 1
his stabbing assegni fiercely cat the r
phalntoln. t
"I suppo)se he was revealed to me by
the samaeln mynsterious light that showe d
the ghostly for:'n of my late comrade,
hbut Ie tchat as it mnay. I saw him dis
tinctly, and -yen Inoted a look of hor
rifled surprise that passed overr his
feature-s whiien he fonllltl that his wea
puin Ilmet withl no resistance.
"For a cnotnent he paused as if petri
ftied. and in that nmoment I recovered
my s'enses, is hicki for the time being
had d.c'sorted me.
"Quickly raising my rifle I covered c
the savage, and as its report ranug out r
on the still lorning air, the ghlostly o
lighlt. which had been of such service, t
fadc'd andt disappeared.
'-My tlimely shot warned our fellows,.
and ere a momnent had scarce elapsed
each nman was atihis post., behind our t
imcproviscd ramparts, battling for dear r
life with a host of implacable foes
wshich seeined to have arisen like an ex
halation from the earth.
"Silently we struggled hand-to-hand
and stecel-to-steel, our rifles being of no
advantage to us. focr we had no chance
toi ucse tlhem in thie dclarlcness, and though b
each man fourght wvith that dogged I
corage born of detspair. it had availed
us nothicing against such overwhelming b
llodds. Itut help w-as at hand.
"'A faint hurrah in the distance told
na of tihe fact c.nd nerved our flagging
inus'les to fresh exertions. WVith an
an..:,scgin stihount we charg ed them once
agnin. as our fellows, the captain in
thl' van. toik them in the rear.
"'Ars they- had comne so they went. van
inhinrg like shacdo-s in the now dis
per'sinr gloom, so that uchen the sun h
sicht up like a meteor in the east noth
inag remnined of them but their dead
and d\-in g.
"-Th-c captain's return saved us, but
just tile same had not Tommy's ghost
shown m te stealthy Zulu's advance
I lhad never fired that shot and roused
my c-ocradesae not a man cf us would
havc survirlve to tell the tale. "--St.
Louis. (;lobe-rDemocrmat.
-1-What makes you .think that new
~ower-,- u waviter came from itoston?"
".lct''acsc.. when I orlrdered liver asud f
Ihac;n, hle howled out: '('hicago pate de Cl
foic gras and Ignatins Donnelly.'"- -
N. Y. lie-all.
-"If I was our rook. and make as t
gorl plancckes as sic: does," said Ilob
lie. "I'. get absent-mindel and eat 'em
all imyelf 'by atatke."'--arhct'r's B. I
1r, a
THE TASTES OF CHILDREN.
e arhey Ought to Be Consulted in IMatter
BWhere They lave a Preference.
h A great many good people in the
d world arp inclined to look slightingly
it upn childish tastes and childish pref
1 erences, as though they were in them
e selves so frivolous as to be unworthy of
hI all notice. Yet there are few grown
d up people to-day who can not recall
e acute suffering in childhood because of
a total disregard of these same tastes
and preferences. The tastes of the
I. woman are quite likely to be the tastes
n of the child, modified only by years and
experience. -
A story to illustrate this is told of
t Queen Victoria's eldest daughter,wvhose
e queenly mother kept her under some
y what rigid discipline, even after she
a had arrived at the age when young
ladies usually have somewhat of their
v own way in the matter of dress
and surroundings. The marriage
I of the princess royal had al
t ready been agreed upon, and the prin
cess, when visitin an attractive lingerie
a shop,ordered a large amount of dainty,
attractive garments, which were en
r tirely different from the stiff, old-fash
a ioned linen which the queen had al
ways insisted upon for her family. No
{ sooner were the garments sent home
t than the royal mother returned thens
in a spirit of indignation, and ordered
for her daughter a duplicate of the
a queer, old-fashioned trousseau wvhich
she had had made for her wedding so
many years ago. These tile princess
r must be content with, though, if re
port says true, she shed many tears
over them, and after her marriage she
disposed of them as quickly as possible
t and bought dainty clothes to suit her
taste, which had something of the
French chic and air about them.
The old-fashioned idea that there
Swas something sinful in pretty clothes
or that one was pandering to
t vanity and folly in consulting
r the taste in matters of dress has
passed away. There is no possible harm
in allowing a little girl who has ideas
of her own to have considerable free
dom in the choice of her belongings.
She should be guided, of course, by the
means at hand and by the judgment of
older people as to the utility of what
she chooses. But it is a cruelty to coin
pel her to wear anything which she in
stinctively dislikes as old-fashioned
and ugly when it is just as easy to gel.
her something that will please her
fancy and in which she will never feel
ill at ease.
The proverbial ease of manner of the
dweller of the city mnay be, after all,
but a consciousness of appearing well,
while the awkwardness of his country
brother may just as naturally be due
to a consciousness of ill-fitting attire.
The term urbanity, which originally
meant city bred, has in its natural se
quence come to mean a tranquil and
polished demeanor. Now, if you wish
to make a little girl awkward, dress
her against her own protests in clumsy
attire. Not all tile teachers of deport
ment can overcome the shyness that will
be bred of her young impressions. No
wise persons can fail to appreciate t'we
value of ease and polish of manner. It
takes years sometimes to overcomne 'lie
self-consciousness which begins in
childhood as the result of this kind of
petty household tyranny, whicih utter
ly overlooks the in:lividua'ity an l
tastes of the child and consults only
the convenience of the moment.
Let the little daughters and sons of
the house hIave roomns of thleir own
as soon as they are able to take proper
care of them. Let them he consulted
in the furnishing of the room. Yield
something, where it is not inconsistent
with economy, to their tastes, so that
the room may be their very own.
Let them bring their friends there. D)o
not buy clothes for any girl of an age
to have tastes of her own without con
sulting her. Even boys somuet imliu have
decided ideas in the matter of dress,
though they are proverbially more in
different than girls. 'llhe diaughter-s
and sons in such a home lusually findi
home the sweetest place. -N. Y. Tri,b
une.
All O)dd l tfitl.
Mlr. Dennett, of Cape Elizabetlh, Me..
who sunpplies the cot ttagers with milk.
eggs and garden truck, has a rig that
attracts a good deal of attention. It
consists of a two-year-old bull with a
ring in his nose, bearing a crootked yoke
on his -neck, harnessed to a flat-hot- f
tomed cart whicth wvill float in the I
water. The animal is driven by `lr. d
l)ennett. like a horse. IReins of ropeare e
attached to the ring of the bull's nose:
they pass up over thie horns through
rings attached to them. With this 1
queer team .Mr. Dennett makes the trip r
to the bach two or three times a week, t
fording the Sperwink river at high tide.
The bull swims the river like a dog and a
the cart floats like a boat and will sus
tain the weight of nlr. l)ennett and his I
load of produce safely. 1Yhen Mlr.
Deiett andti his Iunique team are seen
approaching the cottagerl-s throng the
banits of the river in order to see him
make the passage.--N. . . un.
They Nsturmlly Expectedl It.
George (fixing the kitchen store)--- -
Why, the dam
";ieorge'." exclaimed his mother, re
provingly.
tGeorge-Pshaw: the dam
"'\ hy, George!" screamed his siters, C
how can you'? i
-
Eeorge--Vhy, hang it all, 1 was only
going to say that the dam
Lizzic-How can
George (continuing desperately)
That the dampner is turned off. and
there is no draught Vhat's the mat
ter you a.l?-l-Drake's MaRgazine.
1i Hard Ineek.
Architect's Wife--You look Jistressed.
What's happened?
Architect (despondently) - I'-e just
found out that Mr. shortlash hasn't
credit enough to make his new house a
credit to me.--N. Y. Weekly. a
-Tr-ate Father--"See here. young t
man, when I tell yon to do a thing. I
want yot to do it at once." Dutiful
Sona-"-hat did you tell me to do?''
Irate Father--"I o~et now; but I a
wat It dotne." ' '
I THE MISSISSIPPI RiVER.
SDoes This Stream Prove That Wetes
plows Uphill T
e In an article published some time ago
y it was stated that since the source of.
r- the Mississippi river is about threWiles
- nearer to the center of the earth than
,f its mouth is, therefore the water of the
river runs uphill. This statement pro
l duced a arong impression, which it is
,f desirable to correct. It is true thatthe
s waters of the Mississippi, in flowingto
a ward the equator, gradually recede
a from the center of the earth, because
c the earth is not a sphere, buta spheroid
flattening toward the poles. But this
,f recession can not be accurately de
e scribed as a "'flowing uphill," because
that would imply that the water dis
e obeys the law of gravitation.
The direction of gravity is always at
r a right angle to the surface of still
i water, and if the earth were completely
e covered with water, that surface would
be not in the form of a sphere, but of a
spheroid, having substantially the
a same shape as that of the solid surface
of the earth taken as a whole.
This is the form assumed by the sur
face of the oceans, which is called a
surface of equilibrium, because, with
, out some disturbing inlaence, the
B water has no tendency to flow in any
direction, and a plumb line.hangs per
i pendicular to it at every point. But
owing to the flattening of the earth to
word the poles, the plumb line does not
point toward the true center of the
earth anywhere except at the poles
and along the equator.
It follows from these facts that if
the Mississippi valley did not slope to
ward the south below the level which
an ocean covering that valley, and
having its northern edge at the source
of the river, would assume, then the
river would be in equilibrium from
source to mouth, and would not flow
at all.
In fact, as the article referred to -
stated, the valley does slope, so that
while its lower end ought to be about
three and a half miles farther from
the earth's center than its upper end is
in order to correspond with the general
form of the planet, yet in truth it is
only about three miles farther from the
center. 'T'his half-mile of difference
represents the true "hill" down which,
not up which, the Mississippi flows.
The source of misapprehension in this
case seems to lie in the overlooking of
the fact that the oceans, having a mo
bile surface, which can not be perma
nently deformed by local causes, meas
ure the true level of the globe, while
the continents are simply elevations
thrust up above that level It is the
direction of the plumb line, and not of
the center of the earth, that deterline. -
the level of water and the course of its
flow.
On the other hand, it must not be
forgot ten that centrifugal force" plays
a part in producing the present surface
of equilibrium of the earth, and that if
the rotation of the globe should cease,
there would be a change in the direc
tion of the plumb line, and then the
waters of the Gulf of Mexico might
overflow the valley of the Mississippi
-Youth's Companion.
ieoagraphy of tile looan.
Sir Robert Hall is reported to have
said. in his lecture on the moon, that
the geography of our satellite was bet
ter know even than that of the earth.
There was nosingle spot on the moon
the size of an ordinary parish in En
gland that had not been fully photo
graphed and observed. Of course this
remark can only relate to tthe side of
moion which is ,lvways turned towards
us. Nearly one-half of her surface has
never beep seen by mortal eye, and
never will be, unless the lunar globe
should he tilted by collision with a
comet or some such erratic body.
Otherwvise it is a fact that photography
has done more for the earth's attendant
than for itself. It is analogous to the
further fact that the only things which
man can predict with certainty are not
those that happen on the sphere he in
hablits. but the movement of worlds im
menrn sly (tistant. -London Telegraph.
--Tl'he Ieth Eden Haptist. church of
(akLland, ('al., is in the throes of a very
interesting row. For attending a cake
walk six members of the church were
recently Ilacklisted and expeled from
the church by the pastor, Mlr. McGuinn,
who rules his church like a czar. A
year ago he summarily dismissed a lady
from church memnbership because she
attended the circus and served wine at
dinner. Another lady was expeled for
expressing a desire that the members
of the church might have something to
say in the management of its affairs. A
lady and her husband were also ex
peled -for attending an odd fellows' en
tertainment and dance. A committee
waited on Pastor McGuinn a short time
ago and asked him to consider the ad-'
visahility of resigning his charge. He
received-c it curtly, and the next Sunday
promptly expeled the deacon who
headled it and the next prominentmem
br.
-A ,Su'e Sign.--A Woodward avenue
youngster was given a large doll for
Christmas It was a thing of beauty
and was attired in the full dress of a
fashionable woman. "Oh." said a lady
to the little one, "what a pretty doll."
"Yes, Santa Claus gave it to me," re
pliet the kid. "It isn't a little girl
doll, either; it's a grown woman, isn't
it?" "No'm. it isn't; it's only a ddlv
doll. It isn'ta woman." "Yes, butt,
is. Look at its dress." "That doesn't
make any difference. It's just a little
girl doll. It doesn't talk all the time."
-Detroit 'Free Press.
--Marian--"I'm sure you ought to be
satisfied with (;eorge's Imhvior. If -
by any chance he ever does anythM
to offend you he always apologla~se s
abjectly." Elsie-"Ye--ea Biet I
want him to apologize abjectly when I
do anvt.hing to offend him"
-,ust the Time.--Snueerr--E" emas -3
me for saying so, but that fewey weal .k i
yours actually takes away may "- .
tite." Dashawayv (eagerly)--·'Is St .
so? Come and dine with am"--'sl c
-"I don't care a m " o
*aPPopriate ejeeslatio e a
pbo WSUWSr SIdl U~
