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VOL. IX, LAKE PROVIDENCE, EAST CARROLL PARISH, LA., SATURDAY, MAY 22, 1897. NO. 49.
WOM ANS INLUENCE
I I
( 1% ý
cBAWtR Vt.
SOME vinlr PO1ERTI
When Brian des~ed to the break
fast room next m g, he found Mar
garet alone.
She was standing q(r the open win
dow, and so intent ulidh arranging some
lilies in a bowl that she did not notice
his presence until he was close beside
her.
His voice recalled her absent thoughts,
and, looking up with a start, the warm
blood mounted to her brow, notwith
standing her effort to control th. mo
mentary weakness.
"I did not expect to see you so soon."
she said, in answer to his "Good morn
ing."
"And I did not expect to see you
alone. We are both disappointea-I
most agroeablv. Will you allow me to
assist you? ?No? Perhaps you doubt
lmy ability. I shall improve it by watch
Ing you. Or, better still, I shall tako
advantage of this opportunity to tell
you that I am sorry I ever came here. "
"That is a poor compliment to Miss
Hilton and me," replied Margaret, with
an attempt at lightness, and an absorb
ing interest in her task.
"You know what I mean," he returned,
with some warmth. "You know .why
the very sight of you is painful for mI.
You seem happy enough, but I am ut
terly miserable."
"Did you sleep well last night?" she
broke in, with quebtionable irrelevancy,
placing the flowers, which she could
make no further pretext of fixing, in the
middle of the table.
"No, I didn't sleep at all," was the
rather short. reply; "I was haunted."
"Haunted! How unpleasant! I wonder
why' they don't bring in breakfast.
Will you ring that bell by you, please?"
"No, no! Wait one moment, Mar
garot. 1 dare say the coffee isn't ready,
or the steak isn't cooked, or something.
I don't like my breakfast half done; be
sides, I'm not hungry."
"But I am; I've had a long ride this
morning."
"You didn't use to ride at S'conset.
Confound that hole! How I wish it had
been swallowed up before I over saw it!
Why did you deceive me, Margaret?
You told me your name was Smith."
"And so it was while I was there.
Others knew tme as Miss Sniith, why
shou:dn't you?' '
ihe colored in spite of herself.
"You might have told n:e afterward."
he continued, reploachfully. "What a
difference it would have made!"
"I understand," she i'epliel, with not
a.little scorn, and Brian, feeling that he
had committed himself again, was about
to say something in his own vindication,
when the door opene.l and Miss Hilton
entered, thus putting an end to the tetc
a-tete.
He saw 3Margaret's t-xressiou, of re
lief, and his heart sank aceordingly.
But during breakfast she talked to him
so pleasauntly and naturally that hIe ,e
gan to feel less diepreseoi. li was even
planning a quiet hour ith hlier during
the morning, when she arose from the
table, with the words:
"I think I shall r:d:, over to The C'edats,
Miss Hilton. I haven't seen Alice since
my return, you know. I ain sure you
and cousin lirian will have lots to talk
over, so I'll leave him in your hands."
Misb Hilton noticed the change that
paessd over ]Brian's countenance, liut
she answered quite cheerfully:
"Very well, my dear. You mustn't
neglect your friends. Brian and I will
have a nice. quiet morning together.
l)on't let the Colonel keep you too
long."
"After your remark about the quip t
morning. I think I'll spin l the ,hay,"
was M3gagaret's quiet rejoider, as snell
passed through the door which Brian
hell open for he r.
Twenty minutes later she had Imount
ed her horse, and was following the
well-kept road through the busy little
town. But thou;mh sho was nodding
every few minutes to thie jeople sie
passed, her thoughlts were far from her
.resent surroundings.
c'ertain ideas hadl obtained lodgment
in her mind and refused to be displauiod
F'or the first ti:e, tihe possibility that
her uncle had looked forward to a union
betwoIn her courin and herself canme to
her with a certainty that was absolute
pain. She reenClled many incidents and
alluelons,nlaay half-forgotten conversa
tions, which received a deeper moaning
from this new fossibility.
She remembered that often, in spe,ak
ing of Brian, her uncle had said a goo I
wife would be his salvation, that home
ties wouldl bind him to a more useful
life, and that his most earnest desire
was to see his wayward son well and
happily married.
But she remembered, above all, that
when her uncle lay dying he had awak
ened, after many hours of unconscious
ness, to say, in accents which only her
ear cou!d catch: "God will bless and
guard you, Margaret. Don't forget
Brian, and be good to him for my sake."
The request had sounded oddly then,
but now it had a new meaning. Was
her uncle looking into the future even
then, or did he in his dying moments
enJoy the happy delusion that his hopes
were realized?
Margaret was trying to answer this
painful question when she reached her
destination--a handsome, modern-look
ing house, surrounded by stately cedars.
Zjafing up the broad staircase, with
the air of one familiar with the sur
roundings, she paused before a half
opened door, with the words:
"May I-come in, AUlee?"
For answer, there was a glad cry; the
mound of a chair falling, fQllowed by
pifootsteps, anat a pretty_ girl of a
bruostte type rushed into .rgaret'
Ae and kissed her with aEetlonate
ipetuosity.
'Oh, I amso gladoseeyou," shearTed
between her sp d earesee. "You
dbtr _eaild, ou been awy an
bbdrl* Aim.1ibI QoUr ri~t 1uR
iny big chair, and consider yourself
quite privileged. So that wretched
place didn't quite kill you "
"No," laughed Margaret, allowlug
herself to be placed in the chair in ques
tion. "I am very much alive, as you
see, You and Miss Hilton really amuse
in ; your ideas of S'conset are as differ
cnt from the reality as night from day.
It Is a whole host of delights in itself. I
am really not an object of sympathy, so
your pity has all been thrown away."
"So it has, you bad girl. Why didn't
you tell me before. I might haze saved
.,me. Still I'm glad to sie you back.
Uncle will be delighted. He has been
positively unbearable, and I do hope
your presence will improve his t1l:emer.
Oh, 1 had quite forgotten. Your cousin
is with you, isn't he? Is h nice! How
does he like things, and how do you
like him?"
Alice moved nearer to Margaret, and
taking her hand, laughingly gazed luto
her face.
TYes, he is home. He came yestersa.y
afternoon, and- Well, it is simply
unendurable. Fancy the position of
play-ing hostess to a man who feels you
have taken his birthright. Yet, there
are people in this place who think mle
fortunate. Some persons never see be
yond the surface."
"W' ll, don't think about it, my dear,"
said Allve, consolingly. "It isn't your
fault. I am anxious to see your cousin.
His rturn is all over the neighborheool,
of ourse. I'm afraid it won't please
Mrs. towns. Shoe may think poor dear
Alfy's thanets le-senod thereby. He
has pined to a mere skeleton during
your absence, Margaret."
A contemptuous expression passed
over Margaret's face.
"I do wish some one wou'd nmrry him
and carry him of to another neighbor
hood," she said. "I am so thoroughly
tired of seeing him around. ieHo may
be the paragon his mother thinks him.
I daresay he is. lie hasn't brains
enough to bi' otherwise. But I prefer a
little wickedness to want of sense."
"Don't be sarcastic discussing Ally,
my dear. IHe is a very iiee, girlish
young man, and his bank account will
reach from here to the Gulf of Mexico."
"l'erhl:ps if it were shorter he might
bo" better," ecmmented Margaret.
'Money causes all the trouble in the
world.
"The want of It, you mean," suggested
Alice, sagely. "It is a wonderful Lower,
no doubt. It makes beauty more baru
tiful, virtue more virtuous, and great
ness more great. The very thought of
it makes me wax eloquent. Seriously,
my dear, poverty is the meanest thing
under the sun. Nell agrees with me
there. I had a letter from her this
mdornling, and to chler you I will real
it.'
"Hlow is Nell?" asked Margaret,
smiling at a thought her mind conjured
up. "I don't Cee that plaque she
painted. have you become unapprecia
tire of her genius?"
"No," returned Alice from the depths
of her desk, where she was hunting for
her letter. "'But uncle garve me that
lovely little landscape on the left there,
and when I hung it by Alice's plaque,
the contrast between it and her indigo
lalke and impossible. trees was startling,
evento myinartisticeye. I stoodit tfora
few days, but at last natu'o would bear
no more, and the plaque now reposes in
my trunk, where the sun can not fade
or the dust injure. Here's her letter.
"M I) DE.t ALICE: At last I am sitting
down to answver your letter, and ae
l:uimw!edge its welcome inclosure. My
ha'l is buzzing the things I have to say,
but I'll begin at the beginning. Grati
tude before everything in my cafegory.
I will therefore thank you for your
('hock. I spell It with a capital, you
ots, rve. I don't know tllt it is correct
according to the rules of orthography,
but under ithe laws which make us inm
portant or insigniicant in proportion as
we are rich or poor, it is perfectly in
order. Htenceforwardl I shall adopt it as
r-hawing amy deep and abiding respect
"This plarticular money came in qu:to
a:'roto. We ha-l been getting o: r sum
mnir .anirlobe (1 use this word advisedly,
tas it s.,t.l.ls more imposing than enumer
al;ing de.tails), and you will not have to
stra n your imagination imuch to bring
lo miinl ihe p.ti:nfully emaciated conid:
Ston of ihi. fiilly l iurse. It looked ex
t:iemely humlble. I assure you, despite
thil fat that p)overty is always proud.
But the imment your check arrived,
,what a change It ininbldiately swelled
with ipride, like the felled frog whole
iiitulle I used to adilmiri'e so extrai
gatly, anmdl tlhouigh it has been consid
,r'ably tldepletedl since, it still remains
"Now, Alice, a word of advice. Keep
in with the old eIcar and make him
I'irovt you eosoni money; for, horrible
thought,thle licyi ldses seem to be grow
im'g poorer I think it a decided mis
lake (,'o the part of mailnma andl papa to
ha'., had so manay chlldren. But I have
notici:I lthat this nii'itke i conlllunon
au itll I.oir t''opll. I siuppoto they
want iinimumiber somanl wli.h'''', so they make
ulip in bables what thll lack in dollars.
If oultters don't mend with us. shall go
to w'lling stories:; I alwalys did think I
had a talent.
"In your last letter you mildly in
lquiredl it we likcl our new fiat. My dear
child, the questionl waas siuperlluous\
I Flats weren't made to be liked; :ont the
cheap flats, at least, and those are the
only kind we indulge in. Our present
one is a narrow tunnel, probably a trifle
broader than the road which is pOlu
larly supposedl to lead to eternal bliss.
We have daylight at each end and vary
ing degrees of twilight in tile middle,
an'l o:r bed-roeims are s, small that
Bess, being a girl of resources, kneels
upon the bedl to say her prayers and
Sprevent me from tumbling over her feet,
which, to say the least, are' not in pro
portion to our apartment.
'Speaking of jess, I'm dying to know
if she ever mentions Mr. Spencer in her
letters to you. That man is my abom
inition, and I shiver at the possibility
of such a brother-in-law. He likes her,
I know, for he comes here nearly every
night, sits in our b.st chair, which he
has nearly worn out, and talks through
the bigg st nose it has been pgay fort-,
Sune to see. Altogether le is odious,
and if Bess marries him, she Is no sis
ter of mine.
"Allusions to marriage and such giddy
subeeta remind m of what I consilder
Ia mostimportant pfeed of news. I have
a devoted follower, a painfully ver
adent, callow, youth, with braht~lso ew
as to b, searoly wor.hI nottelg, sad.
Sbuil. ..oouit i longl tle---w.t,
I thag,U cudi l i# 9aW4~tW P uw'
tude of sins. iHe is so enraptured with
me, that my led hair is golden in his
eyes, from which fact you may estimate
the extent of his imnagin:ltiona.
'" 'If he only hal sa little more sense,'
I find myself saying morning, no n and
night, but with all the possibilities that
Mluster aroun I that 'if,' the unwelcome
fact still obtrudes itself. Ills mind is a
vacuum, ani I, like natur., abhor a
vacuum.
"Sometimes I wonder if his pocket
book can fill the place where his brain
ought to be. As the quesbion is a mo
mOntous one, pray give nle the ,enetit
of your advice. Meantime, I continue
to be the sun of his existence, the siar
of his night, and a few other luminaries.
And as, also, you must be thoroughly
tired of me by this time, I will say
good-by, for the present. Everybody
joins me in love to you. More in my
next. N ELL."
"P. S. Being a woman, my letter
wouldn't be complete without a post
script. So here it is: Give my love to
Miss Margaret when you see her. I
Suppose she is as sweet and as pretty as
ever, for I know her good fortune hasn't
spoiled her."
Margaret flushed and sani!-ed at this
allusion to herself.
"Just as bad as ever," she commented.
"Nell will never be staid nor dignitied."
"That is what mamma says. We are
all a lively set. I dare say they think
my nest is feathered, but-"
Alice shook her head doubtfully.
"Uncle Is Eo overbearing at times, and
I was never noted for mnildness of temu
per. Sometimes I get perfectly raving,
and then there's a grand seene. Indeed,
you wouldn't laugh if you were in my
place.
"There is his bell now. He is awake,
and I suppose l:e wants me. Evidently
he's in a bad humor. Come with nme,
Ma:garet. lie will want to see you. and
besides your presence may be as oil
upon the troubled waters."
Alice hurried off, while Margaret
waited to get her hat and gloves. When
she reachtel the head of the stair- she
heard the Colonel's high-pitchtd \oice,
evidently answering some pro; osition
from Alice.
"Go back? I'll go back when I chooes,
Miss. I'll not be dictated to. I'll
Bless any soul! if there isn't 2iargaret.
When did you get here, chihl? J nt
now? Well, well! I'm so petered and
bothered. I can hardly see you. Comse
here and let ins have a gmool look at
you."
At this invitation Margaret came down
the steps, and the old gentleman. despite
her blushing remonstrance, tool her face
between his hands and kissed her on
each cheek.
"So.nou'vo been away, an. come back
as p.al as ever," he added, holding her
from him and look!ng at her earnestly.
"I believe we could have done Letter for
you here. I'm glad to see you, child,
mighty glad. Missed you like the devil.
By the way, I hear you've got that
young scamp with you. I doubt if. ha
had one foot off the train :efore smoe of
these confounded tattling womenon p:.b
lished it to the neighborhood. If I w,.re
the husband of some of thei, 1'd1 hang
or shoot 'era. What aroyou giggling at.
Alice? Nothing? Well, have more sense.
('ema over and take dinner with us,
Marg;aret.. No cormpany, you know.
Only yourself and Brian, if you choose
to l)ring hirn. I want to ree the boy. I
s'uposo he's grown out of niy recogni
tion.
The old gentleman disap'teared in the
library ashe tmade this last remark, and
Margaret turned to Alice with a smile.
"I must Le going," ste said. "i've left
my cousin, you know, and I must not be
inhospitable. Please come over soon,
Alice. Miss Hilton sent her love anl! a
special invltatton."
Alice stood ontheporch for soume mlin
utes after Margaret was gone.
"If I should turn p'rophetess," she
said, half aloud, I would say---' She
did i;ot complete her sentence, but,
stldling to herself, went into the house.
fTO BE COsriSt'ri:o.
On the Care of False HaIr.
In a troc'hure on the toilet "by a
professional beauty," : short chapter
is devoted to false hair, the care and
.te of it. Probably few women who
are obliged to wear false hair give it
any thought after it is laid on the
dressing-table. This authority a:
sorts, however, that it shouild be as
carefully brushed and eomubed every
night as natural hair; only in this
way can it be kept clean and fiesh.
It is also suggested that it be putt in
a ctvered box of sandal wood when
ever it is not on the head. In a New
York woman's dressing-root is a
small box table with a lid. It is if
soft wood painted with piink enamel
:paint inside and tiut. To a curious
visitor its owner disclosed the Inte
rior, which is divided into several
compartments of irregular lengths,
at tile bottom of each of which is a
silken sachet filled with Florentine
orris and violet powder. Switches,
cufis, and curls rested lightly in their
proper nests. "A notion of iy umatid,"
explained the woman, wihose hair
matchted that itt t he box, with I a
laugh. "to ]preserve andt perfume rmad
anlc's cdiffures."
Snunethintg Abou:t Lady Mary Gordon.
Ladtly Mary Gordon. to wihom "The
Sisters" is dedicated by her affection
ate nephew, Algernon Charles Swin
hburne, is thle youngest of the twelve
children of the third Earl of Ash
burnham, being seven years junior to
the poet's mother, Lady Jane Swin
burne. She married in 139l the only
son of Gen. Sir James Willoughby
Gordon, and pe.sibly from this gal
lant soldier have filtered tlown some
of the military traditions embodied
in the tragedy. Sir Henry Percy Gor
Ilon succeeded his father in 1851, but
sought distinction in ia dlifferent line,
took honors nt. Cambridge. and be
came a F. 1. S. At his death in 1876
the baronetcy lapsed for waut of an
heir, and his widow, Lady Mary, was
left in possession of North Court,
their pleasant seaside hi/nie -near
Iiton, in the Isle of Wight.
Extraordinary lemedy for Paralysis.
Dr. Leon Paul of Paris ha:; lately
come out in favocr of sterilized sub
cutaneous injections of solutions of
sheep's brain as a cure for paralysis.
lie claims for this extraordinary med
Ichin that it has no Injurious resce
tion, and that It almost every case in
which he hbas tied it there has been
sL4 wPmrovetent t. the pAr'
f 0u otLtOS
BOMBAY'S PARSIS.
fiIE DOMINATING ELEMENT IN
ASIA'S FINEST CIrY.
Their Ability and Magnificent Gen
crosity - Queer Death and
Burial Rites-The Tow
ers of Silence.
B OIBAY is without do'ot the
most modern city on the Asi
atio continent, barring the
, native quarter, which is the
usual picturesque conglomeration of
buildings huddled in narrow streets
and dark alleys. The street is com
posed of fine water fronts, quays, and
r docks, well paved streets, avenues,and
esplanades. The main streets are
lined with structures that would do
t credit to any of the European capitals
or be-t American cities. The G. I.
P. Railway terminus, for instance, is
accounted the handsomest in the
world. This Italian Gothic pile cost
the company $1,500',000. and is deco
rated :throughout by the students of
the art school. The Secretariat, the
University Senato Hall, the Library
and Clock Tower, the High Court,and
Post and Telegraph offices are really
fine specimens of architecture, but the
good examples are too numerous to
mention in this lidtited space.
Bombayites are justly proud of their
fine city, and acknowledge that not a
little of the credit is due to the broad
minded, philanthropic Parsis, who, by
their shrewdness, energy and pro2res
sive,attitude, have become the domi
nating element in the Bombay presi
dency.
The P'arsis are of Persian descent,
having fled before the Mohammedan
conquerors over 10)0 years ago, and
settled in this locality, which is now
their stronghold. Of the 850,000 in
habitantn of Bombay there are abmout
13,000 Europeans, 1:03, Eurasians,
t 520,000 Hindus, 18,000 Jains, 175,000
I Mohammedans, 00,003 Parsis, 5000
Hebrews and i a few hundred Chinese,
etc. Although the Parsis are out
numbered by the Hindus and Moham
medans, their influence is paramount,
and eeams to stand for all that we i
claim for most of the Christian virtues.
Their creed is epitomized in the
familiar "good words, good thoughts,
good deeds," which trilogy of virtues
is symbolized by the girdle of three
cords always worn about their bodies.
To exemplify the faith which is with
t in him, the Parsi is given to charity
and phiianthropic endowments to a
degree unparalleled in a community
where they represent only one-six
teenth part of the population; and the
fact that their beneficence is not lim
ited to nation, sect, or creed makes
their altruism a standing reproach to
our so-called humanitarianism. The
Parsis are the leading merchants and
bankers of Bombay, and many of them
have acquired vast wealth.
The male Parsi costume is phe
nomenally ugly. A long high-cut
single-breasted frock coat is buttoned
snugly over their sometimes portly
persons, and their bright, intelligent
faces are surmounted by a queer
pointed mitre of black or purple en
amelled cloth. There is absolutely no
brim to it, possibly in order not to
out off the rays of the sun, which they
revere. But they go about seemingly
comfortable and unharmed in the
blazing noon time, when thick cork
helmets and double umbrellas are not
suffioient protection for Europeans.
Parsi ladies walk and drive in the
streets in very effective costumes,
r which are composed of an eight or
1 ten-yard length of soft silk which they
call a serai. This is draped into a
I full skirt and carried over the head
and shoulders in graceful folds. The
common serais are printed, but the
3 wealthier women wear the finest silk
with borders embroidered in gold and
3 silver.
One of the sights of the city is the
1 Dakhmas, *r Towers of Silence. A
permit is obtained from'the Parsi au
Sthorities, and having driven along the
Sinhe Queen's Road bordering the bay
to Malabar Hill, the visitor leaves his
I carriage at the entrance, and, accom
Spanied by an attendant, walks through
the beautiful gardens to the house of
Sprayer, where the everlasting fire is
kept burning. The followers of Zo
Sroaster are Theists, and the fire which
Sthey are said to worship is to them
Ssymbolical of purity, glory and reful
gence. They do not worship fire, but
regard it as emblematio of divinity
r hence the popular error of terming
: them fire-worshipers. To the Pyrsis,
- ever impending death is a state ol cor
ruption, and the act of shufling off
this mortal coil is attended by prac
tices that seem to us nothing short of
e heartless and ghastly. The approach
- of that transition we call death is a
- signal for the relatives to leave the
0 presence of the dying one, the priest
- alone remaining to whisper the Zend
o Avesta precepts into his ear. He, in
- turn, passes ontof the room and admits
Y a dog, who is trained to gaze eteadily
Y into the face of the dying one. A dog
1- is accounted the only living creature
e that can terrorize the evil spirits, so
d the "sas-did" or "dog stare" is the last
-sight the Parsi has on earth. No
t human shadow must intervene, other
, wise the guardian virtue of the dog's
gaze is annulled.
6 The body is removed in an iron
n casket, which is used for rich and poor
s alike, ard conveyed to the dakhma by
, the nassesalars. The life of these
r nassesalara, or bearers of the dead, is
a peculiarly horrible one. They are
worse oft than the Pariahs, for -they
live apart like lepers and are deemed
y loathsome and polluted for all time.
- They are born, marry and die string.
Sera to all excijt those of their own
- oalling. They are not allowed in the
- markets, and pass through the streets
" only'on their errands to ned from the
B dakhmas and the hoases ot the dead.
I So loathsome is the sontamination of
Sdleaith to t~e Passi that foImezly,
shooinegalaglydespeassadog
consciousness after having been
brought to the Towers, the nassesalars
were instructed to kill him; but I
believe a law has been passed which
permits such oases to rejoin their
families.
It is a cunrious fact that the vultures
are said to discriminate between real
death and the semblance, and retrain
from touching a body in which life is
not extinct, flying away with such
shrieks and commotion as to attract
attention, for silence usually reigns
supreme here. In Bombay there are
six towers of varying sizes. The word
tower is misleading, as the round
buildings are from sixty to eighty feet
in diameter and twenty feet high.
There is no roof or window and only
one small door, opening toward the
cast. It is not permitted to approach
within fifty feet of the towers, but a.
model is shown in an adjoining build
ing. The interior is arranged in three
broad circles divided into 865 parti
tions and sloping towards a central
well. The outermost row is for men,
the middle one for women, and the
interior one for children, the three
fold circle being symbolical of the
Zoroastrian virtues-pure thoughts,
kind words, good deeds.
The mourners of the dead remain in
the prayer house while the body is
conveyed to the dakhma. A final
prayer is pronounced by the priest
from a distance, the dog's stare is re
peated, and the nassesalars silently
pass their burden through the small
iron door, deposit it in its appointed
place, remote the coverings of white
rags which are the regulation shrouds
for all ranks and ages, and as silently
close the door and proceed to burn
the death clothes. The vultures that
line the wall of the darkness are im
ported from Persia, as the Indian
variety failed to perform their duty
with the necessary despatch, which is
accomplished in from fifteen to thirty
min:te9. A we-k or two later the
I tropical sun has bleached the bones to
the point of disintegration, when the
nassesalars remove them with tongs to
the central well, which is lined with
granite and furnished with beds of
sand and charcoal. The Parsi religion
forbids the pollution of the elements,
and after this filtration of any fluid
there may be (and there is much at
the time of the monsoon), -it passes
through drain pipes far into the sea.
New York Post.
",Old llekorj's" Inanguration.
Mr. Joseph B. Bishop has an article
on "Inauguration Scenes and Inci
dents" in the Century, which is an
"Inauguration Number." Mr. Bishop
says of President Jackson's inaugura
tion:
An eye-witness, who took a some
what jocose view of the day's events
wrote that the most remarkable fea
turo about Jackson as he marched
down the aisle of the Senate with a
quick, large step, as though he pro
posed to storm the Capitol, was his
double pair of spectacles. He habitu
ally wore two pairs, one for reading
and the other for seeing at a distance,
the pair not in use being placed across
the top of his head. On this occa
sion, says the eye.witness, the pair on
his head reflected the light; and some
of the rural admirers of the old hero
were firmly persuaded thaf they were
two plates of metal let into his head
to close up the holes made by British
bullets. When he appeared on the
portico, we are told that the shout
which arose rent the air and seemed to
shake the very ground. The ceremony
ended, the General mounted his horse
to proceed to the White House, and
the whole crowd followed him.
"The President," says a contempo
rary writer, ''was literally pursued by
a motley concourse of people, riding,
running helter skelter, striving who
should first gain admittance into the
executive mansion, where it was Un
derstood that refreshments were to toe
distributed." An abundance of re
freshments had been provided, inolud
ing many barrels of orange punch. As
the waiters opened the doors to bring
out the punch in pails, the crowd,
Srushed upon them, upsetting the pails,
Sand breaking the glasses. Inside the
Shouse the crush was so great that dis
tribution of refreshments was impos
Ssible, and tubs of orange punch were
set out in the grounds to entice people
from the rooms. Jackson himself was
Sso pressed against the wall of the re
Sception-room that he was in danger of
Sinjury, and was proseeted by a num
Sber of men linking arms and forming a
Sbarrier against the crowd. Men with
Sboots heavy with mud stood on the
satin -covered chairs and sofas in their
Seagerness to get a view of the hero.
f Judge Story wrote that the crowd con
tained all sorts of people, from the
Shighest and most polished down to the
Smost vulgar and gross in the Nation.
j "I never saw such a mixture," he
B added. "The reign of King Mob
t seemed triumphant. I was glad to
Sesckpo from the scene as soon as po
1 eible."
Sltro.Glycerlae in a Baryard.
A peculiar accident befell a hog be
e longing to a farslr residing six miles
a northwest of H ford Oity, Ind., in
t the Dundee oil fluld. An oil well had
o just been completed and the shooter
- was sent for to give the .flnishbig
a touch, says the Ohicago Chroniale. -
One of the sitro-glycerine oars
a sprung a leak and ieveral quarts were
r left npon the ground. It is odorless
y and has a sweet, pungent flavor whieh
e seemed to be just to the liking of the
a hog which found the eaposition.
e The animal galpedit down with a relish
y and in a few minates began to froth
ii and snapped and snarled at everythifg
,in sight.
In the brnlvard it bit at-the kheel
a of a horse, which made a vicious kick
a afdhit the wild aeting syino enaasel'
a in the' side., An esprosion followed
that wya dcatenig.' The hog~ wttoa
i to shreds. and imall bits of fesh wre
t platrea up a t the Bmsa nd ott
r, bouse evpr aeiis whie th4 i
BILL ARP'S WEEKLY LETTER.
Some Remar;s Concerinlg the Fight at
Carooe.
HE APPROVES OF PU6ILISTIC CONTESTS.
Thinks Such Sport is All Right ir the
Principals are Decent People-Says
More Men Like to See a Fight than
Are Willlng to Adm!t It.
JIs it original sin or total depravity
or natural born instinct that makes
man and beast take such an interest in
a fight? Bulls and dogs and chicken
cocks dident fall when Adam fell, but
they fight. St. John says there was
war in heaven; so it seems that this
lighting business has been going on a
long-tipe. Cain killed Abelbout 6,000
years ago and man and beast have been
tighting ever since. The men who
don't fight love to look on or read about
it, and even woman, loving, and kind
hearted as she is, always takes sides
and urges on her heroes to victory or
death. If woman had not been behind
as the late war would hav4ended in a
year. Thipreachers preach peace and
love and hold up the Savior's teachings
before us. "Love your enemies, and
if a man smites thee on one cheek,
turn the other to him also." But who
would do that. I have known a
preacher to fight and boast of his vic
tory. I recall another who took off
his coat in church and dared
a brother layman to go outside
with him ond repeat-the offensive.
language. They were good men, but
just human. So I reckon this fight
ing instinct is part of our human na
ture, and if there was war in heaven,
then the instinct did not come from
Adam's fall, but we would have had it
anyhow. "Peace oil earth and good
good will to man" is yet afar off in
the cc ridors of tin .. A few martyrs
like Stephen have lived and died say
ing, "Lord, lay not this sin to their
charge," but the great majority of
Christians and all the sinners either
hate their enemies or fail to love them..
The instinct of our human nature isre
sentment and it is so near akin to self
preservation that it seems, justifiable.
A man has as much right to resent a
personal injury as a nation has. to
fight another nation. There is no
difference in the Christian morality,
for a nation is made up of indi
viduals. If 10,000 may fight in de
fense of their country, then one may
fight in defense of his hpme or his1
property, or even his good nathe. But
both are wrong according to the Sa
vior's teachings, and if only those
be saved who live up to those
teachings, then we are all lost.
But when one of the disciples
got alarmed and said: "Who then
can be saved?" His reply was: "With
men it is not possible, but with God
all things are possible." And on the
other occasion, when a disciple trem
bled under his teachings and inquired:
"Lord, are there few that be saved?"
he avoided a direct answer and said:
"Strive to enter in at the straight gate,
for many shall seek to enter, but shall
not be able."
So our comfort is that if we strive to
do right we will get to heaven. Strive
is the word, and it ineans to struggle,
to exert ourself dilligently. jet us all
do that if we can, and I reckon we
can, or we ,vould not have been told to.
I was ruminating about the fight,
and my mind ran along into ttis chan
nel of thought. Why did I feel an
interest in it? Why did .I have a lin
gering desire that Fitz should lick
Corbett? Well, I took a disgust at
Corbett when I read that he had for
saken his wife and taken another with
out just cause or prov6cation. I re
membered how the papers said she
stood by him and encouraged him at
Jacksonville and other places and be
haved herself in a womanly way, and
so I wanted him punished. But I was
told today that Fitzsimmons had done
the same thing, and so now I don't
care which whipped. Now let some
other fellow turn up and whin Fitsz
and I will be satisfied. Corbett's first
wife has been avenged and his second
came to grief. I don't take much stock
in denouncing prize fighting as the
worst thing in the world. "he worst
thing about it is the company it keeps
the betting and gambling and drinking
that environs it. If two men want to
make a trial of strength by pummeling
each other, there is no more harm in it
than in a football game, and the sur
roundinigs are not much worse.
•nese puginstrs never kll one an
other, and the fightitself is not half as
bad as these street duels and Ml~p pocket
pistols that are reported every day in
the newspapers. I have seen a police
man draw more blood when tryijng to
arrest a disturber of the peace. It is
not so bad as a ball fight in M)Ixicoe
and yet every American who goes
there attends one if not two or somre.
I think I shonU have liked t lhav
seen the fight if I could have dome so
on the ely, and I knew many good men
and some women who eadhl have gone
one eye eg it if they had had a oeane
and the crowd hbad been a dectobone.
Everybody has an instinctive desire to
see a fight-even a dog ,figbt. I re
member what saaac tio' W ol
boys Used to flre in catblng t
black iatsn an o eld tlp ee
making them fight in mortal combat.
And what fan it was to eateh a big e
eeon by night and see him g ai the
dogs, and how we used to get two,oe4
ras- together, and ose uiair two
bulls lock horas, srad ibi fearful
and thrilling.
FPighting -ro. eeser ,,
institute 'here 1sat .. u. .
te .c'e y
eveniUg, aim men go away on on to
woods and have a fight or maybe sev
eral fights.
But If we can't see the fight we all
love to read about them. The charm
of mythology in the heroes and hero
ines we read about-Hector and Ach
illes--have not yet. lost their renown.
It was Rob Boy's heroism and Ivan
hoe'athat made those novels of Walk
ter Scott the favorites. Just so witE
th% Scottish Chiefs and Thadd.,as of
Warsaw, and Charley O'Malley.
And even in our day both Christians.
and sinnerli, Jew and Gentile, have
been fascinated with Lew Wallace's
an ,rc, and the charm of the hnnk in
We chariot race, which was a great
fight-a struggle between the heroio
shamneions. The truth.is that no nov
elist-either ancient.or modern-has
dared to write a rophance without a
great fight in it somewhere. From
Milton in his Paradise Lost down to ,
euenedy's Horseshoe Robinson, fight
ing is the essence and the charm of
the story, and it is a compliment to
our human nature that we always side
with the right side and 1ronorthe hero
and adore the heroine.
More ien like to o a fight than
are willinu to admit it. I never saw a
preacher shent is eyes when the cogs "
hitched or try part two roosters in his
back yard. All men are not as honest
as ,enry Grady, who told a mutual
fried that if he had the money and it
was a respectable thing to do, he
would give a thousand dollars to. see
the mill between Sullivan and Kilrain.
It issaid that he would have slipped
off and gone anyhow, had he not been
already billed for Boston to make his
last great speech. He loved all manly
sports, but abhorred cruelty and dissipa
tion. I never shall forget- the grand
and awful scene that I witnessed from
the top of the Price house dnuing the
battles before Richmond. Our bri
gade was stationed on the south side
of the Chickahominy with orders to
await orders, and while waiting Gen
eral Tige Anderson and some of his
staff climbed up to the little balcony
and saw the desperate fight that
was raging on the other side of the -
river. We saw our regiments, with
banners waving, advance a41 fire and ,
advance and fire again, and elimb,
the sloping hill while their ranks were
thinned from shot and shell, and hun- '
dreds of men felt dead or wounded and
were tramped over by other regiments .
as on they charged to take the battery -
on top of the hill. Once a regiment "
wavered and was falling back, for the
color bearer was shot Jo d the
colonel unhorsed, but alolter
seized the colors and ran in front wi- -
ing them, and the brave boys rallied..'
and never stopped again until the colo
ors were planted on the crest of the
hill and the battery was captured. We
saw it all as plain as a picture, for it
was less than blf a mile to the battle
ground. It was a bird's-eye view, and
such as was rarely witnessed even with .
a. field glass in the hsnds of 'a great
commander. a
Well, that as a seene of blood, sad
pain, and courage,was a thousand times
worse than any two men can mW.r
What is the differeneq in the abstract?
What is thD moral diffcrence in looking
on?-BrtL Ane, in Atlanta Constitu
tion.
Caught Up with the Herd.
Southern rallroads have a reputation
for slow travel, and In some cases it is
well merited. A western traveling man
making a trip on these lines suffered
a greg deal of annoyance from this
particular failing, but up to the time
of the following incident he had enjoy
ed himself immensely guying the 'con
dnctors, tramlinen or any persone hat- 4
Ing to do with the roads about their
rapid transit. He was traveling onb
afternoon on an exceptionally slow
train, which came to a stop every now, .
and then without any apparent cause.
Aftdr expressing himself very audibly
to the passengers he resigned himself
to the Inevitable and dosed off into A
short naph, which were Interrupted byf
the sundry jerks of the train, at which
he complained. The passengers show
ed their annoyance at these complaiints .
by angry looks. The condfictor had er -
'cueed the engineer in every poSlible
way. The last aplgy h1fd been that
cattle obstrueted the trac. The train
had started again and proceeded about
ten minutes when it halted with a jerk.L
Up waked the impatient traveler and
petulantly remarked: "Dear dear- 'I .
suppose, conductor, this worse than
slow train has struct another heeo
caftle." "8guck .another oenet -.
mnch," repCW the conductor.
simply caglht up again with th~drt -
hIerd we ran into: thbat's al" The traf
eler subselded And the conductdr;Kwasu -
left in peace.--Iarper's tound 'Eab i, ,
r naing Lones or &ul sir. -
Instead of going into thl.)ods s !
cutting trees and sawing tlkilinto 1.
lengths, the lambeuen 'of ~tpe Ms,-'
In New Jersey, mine theltrjumbe,
Ages and ages ap a forest of eeaitw;
trees waved its branches in the eruMseg
about Cape Maya The sea is suppose4i'
to hare broken the berrier which rep
arited it from the trees and overturaung
them'by undegminlag the Soots.L
weight causeS them to slhk 1 fh
soft muck where thq bhad stood ant
the mold of centuries of ieaves
ovet them. One day man,.tla
throlh the swamp fbuondqp* St
cedqpogs, and when he had duD it"
it was as souzfd as when it rpew
dited, of years befoes. OCtf elg..
was very valuable as fbaber, a
that time on- the maltpg of it
kept a great many teb.l)ie
summer. They geeate l.ip
plunging a eeg ifreearpd
they bqgida - #,.aal thi
·t I ~
4 uZ-ieod, B~l