Newspaper Page Text
Two little children five years old,
Mane the gentle, Charlie the bold,
Sweet and bright and quaintly wise,
Aagels both, in their mother's eyes.
But you, if you follow my verse, shall see H$
That the ei as human as human can be,
And had not yet learned the maturcr art I
Of hiding the "self of the finite neart.
One daj- they found in their lomp and tla
Two little 1 abbits soft and gray
Soft &nd gray, and just of a size,
As like each other as your two eyes.
All day long the children made love
To the deai little petstheir treasure-tiove
They kissed and hugged them until the night
Bi ought to the conies a glad respite.
Too much fondling dosen't agree *Qsi
With rabbitnature, as we shall see,
For ere the light of another day
Had chased the shadows of night away.
One little pet had gone to the shades,
Or, let us hope, to perennial glades
Brighter and softer than any below
A heaven where good little rabbits go.
The living and dead lay side by side,
And still alike as before one died
And it chanced that the children came singly
The pets they had dreamed of all the night
First came Charlie, and, with sadsurpiise,
Beheld the dead with streaming eyes,
How'er, consolingly, he said
"Poor little MarieTier abbifs dead'"
Later came Marie, aad stood agnast
She kissed and caressed it, but at last
Found \oice to say, while her young heait
"I'm 6ony for Charlie7ns iabbitJs
Harper's Magaziriefor Feb) ua?y.
A BEAR ADTE&TUKE,
An Incident of Rocky ^fountain Lll'o.
Dick Barron was one of the most dar
ng among the pioneers, and he happened
to be one of the most unfortunate. To
gether -with other neighbors, Dick had
lemoved from Central Colorado to the
western slope of the Sierra "Nevada
Mountains. His home was in a wildly
romantic and beautiful spot, and fortune
appeared to smile upon nim, so far as
pecuniary matters were concerned tor
his land yielded wen in the summer and
the mines gave a fair yield ot yellow
dross in the colder months.
But death came to the family of Dick.
The first stroke fell upon his eldest boy,
a lad of twelve years of age. The little
fe'low was fond of hunting, and, with his
iifle,he would often venture to a consider
able distance from his home, and some
times was very successful in bringing
down small game. But one day he was
absent much beyond his usual time, and
search discovered his mangled remains
lying at the bottom of a ledge of rocks.
He had evidently fallen from above and
thus met a sudden and cruel death. The
blow fell heavily upon Dick and his wife,
but the man bore bravely up under his
grief, while the woman gave way to mel
Not long after a second child, a little
girl of five yeais of age, sickened and
died. It now appeared as if Mrs. Barron
would go mad, and for a time her agony
was terrible to behold. But this gradu
ally subsided, and the mother began to
sink rapidly, and in a short time after
she followed her little one, leaving still
another child, a daughter three yeais of
age, to the care of the stricken father.
The grief of Dick was not of an explo
sive character, but it was deep and en
during. Still he had something yet to
live for, and he went to work like a*brave
man to provide for his little Eva. Wintef
had set m, and Dick had come to the
conclusion to make as much as possible
in the mines before spring, and then sell
his propeity and go to San Francisco,
where he could secure the advantages of
education for his little one.
For some time the neighbors of Dick,
as well as himself, had been much annoy
ed by theft. Several lambs and sheep
had been killed, and poultry in large
quantities stolen. There was a difference
of opinion with regard to these depreda
tions. Some said they'were committed
by Indians, others by wolves, and others
by bears. But as yet no snow had fallen,
and as the ground was frozen very hard,
no tracks could be seen.
One morning, however, the alarm was
given. A light snow had fallen during
the night, and tracks were discovered.
A large grizzly bear was the thiet and
despoiler, and he must be hunted down
at once. It was not supposed that they
would be obliged to go far to find the
animal, and so Dick siezed his rifle and
jonied the party, leaving his child still
The tracks were fresh, and a dozen ex
excited men were soon on the trail. In a
short time they were on the monster
but each man passed, turning their eyes
toward Dick and waiting for him to
speak.* The bear was standing near the
cabin door of Barron, gazing at the child
who was seated in the door-way, watching
the movements of the animal with evi
dent curiosity, but without exhibiting
any signs of fear.
Dick felt his very heart sink within
him as he saw this but his weakness
passed away in an instant, and without
removing his eyes from the bear, he
Men, can you use your rifles with
hands?"d 4*Yes," replie several.
Then raise them and have them ready.
Be sure your aim is good, and that every
bullet would be buried in the body of
the beast in case of firing. But hold
your shot until I give the word." J^LT
Instantly every rifle was raised. s&*
7+ Dick moved carefully around toward
the back of the cabin. It was his in
tendon tojenter the window,seize the little
one, draw he back, and closing the door,
save her. But now the animal began] to
ulter deep growls, and advance slowly
t^ jurist %'^tssfc. -s
toward Eva. The father saw this and ex
''My darling, get up, go into the house,
and close the door." *__
The child looked up, smiled, and then
arose, attempting to do the bidding of the
tather: but the monster advanced with a
feaiful howl and as the door was closed
against him, he struck it with one of his
huge paws, shattering it into splinters.
"I feared this. Fire but be caiefal
and not injure my child!" cried the
He discharged his own piece, and at
ilie same time a dozen other rifles rang
out. The bear gave a most tearful hov l,
turned ugon his enemies, glaiing upon
them with eyes of fire, and seemed just
on the point of springing upon them.
Suddenly, however, the beast appealed to
change his mind. Turning quickly
around the monster entered the cabin A
shriek was instantlv heared. and the fath
er rushed forwaid, knife in hand, to save
his darling. But he was too late, for with
a bound, the beast had dashed thiough
the window, holding Eva in his teeth.
Off he ran with all speed toward the
highest moun'ain peak, while the cries of
the little one came back to the ears of the
And now the monster began its ascent
bearing its precious burden. Onward it
went and upward, climbing forward,
as rocks arose to obstruct his pathway.
All this time it kept up its fearful howl
ing and for a time the wails of the child
were heard but they became fainter, and
fainter, until the sound could no longer
be distinguished. At length it disup
peaied from view behind a jutting ledge
When the intention of the animal
fiist made apparent, a kind ofterroi. od
upon every heart and a ciy of gony
burst from every lip. And well might
they have shuddered. for they now knew
full well that the ferocious animal wad a
she-bear, and that she was canying the
child to her eyrie den as food for her
For a time the father had stood with
face blanched with despair, and with
form trembling like the browned leaves
which still clung to the trees around
him. But that weakness was only mo
mentaiy, for he become again the invin
cible father and, with the speed of an
antelope, he rushed foi the cliffs, his eyes
fixed upon the point where the bear had
disappeared with his loved dailmg.
To any but the father, and to him un
der any other circumstances, the journey
would not only have been a weary, but
almost an impossible one. But the
anxious parent paused not for an instant.
Indeed, he seemed to gain new strength
and courage at every step. Now a feai
ful locky ledge would obstruct his way,
but he would mount upward, making a
ladder of the frail twigs which hung to
their sides. Onward and upward until
the giddy height upon which he stood
was horrible to contemplate. But he did
not look back. His child was further on.
And now the point was reached where
the bear was last seen.
At this instant a strange sound fell up
on the ears of the father. At first, it was
only the cry of a child. Then, mingling
with it, came the fierce growl of the she
bear, and following this, the yelping of
cubs. Oh, what agony filled the father's
bosom at that moment! Could it be pos
sible that the ravenous beasts were aheadv
in the act ot devouring his treasure?
Dick sank upon the solid rock, while
the prespiration I oiled in streams from
his face and body. A blindness came
over him, aud he felt himself unable to
Then came a voice from belw. It ex
claimed, Courage Dick. I'll be with
you soon, and will yet save your child.''
"Child' child! murmured Dick as he
started up. "Yes, I must not give way
to this weakness so long as my child yet
lives and I can hear its voice even now."
The poor father became strong again.
He moved forward a few steps, and paced
around a point of rock, from behind
which came the sounds.
A terrible sight met his gaze!
A little girl was lying upon her back
upon the rock. The monster was near
her, holding her down with one off his
huge paws, which reasted upon her breast.
The little one had ceased her stragglings
evidently in despair, and now was sob
bing as if its poor little heart was broken.
The bear was bleeding profusely, and Had
evidently fallen from exhaustion. The
bullets which had been sent into her
body had given her, no doubt her mortal
wound, but she was tenacious of life, and
could accomplish much after that wound
was received, but before her life was
yielded. Like the parent who now
sought his daughter, the first thought of
the bear was ot her young, and even
in her dying agony she clung to the food
she she had brought them.
Only a few feet higher up were the
cubs. They saw the mother, and they
appeared to anticipate a great feast, for
they were struggling to reach it while
they lifted their young voices in chorus
with that of their parent.
Dick knew that he must save his child
soon, or it would be too lare. Soon he
resolved to creep as near as possible to
the monster, and then spring upon her
with his knife for, in his haste and ex
citement, he had dropped his rifle.
Just as he was moving forward, the
bear turned, and their eyes met. The
dying beast uttered a terrfic howl, and
then looked down at her victim. Then
she glanced at her own cubs, and again
toward Dick. Her expression seemed to
say: You will have no mercy on my
young why should I have upon yours?"
It was a dreadful suspense for Dick.
He was satisfied that the bear could live
only a few moments. But what might
not occur in those moments? A single
blow with her huge paw and his darling
would be torn into fragments. A move
ment upon his part might cause this
blow to fall.
The hunter becomes so accustomed to
the various animals with whicli he comes
in contact that he can vlmost read their
very thoughts. Their actions can nearly
always be interpreted correctly. j3o was
it with Dick now. He saw the"intentions
of the bear, and knew that his own actum
must be prompt and powerful, or it
would be too'late.
He clutched his knife, and with his
aim nerved with desperation, hope^ and a
fatherly love, he sprang directly at the
throat ot the monster, who received him
with a tremendous howl and with mouth
Had the beast been uninjured the
struggle would have bee ot short dura-
for the odds between a ma a and a
grizzly bear would be as great as that
between a lion and a mouse But the
monster was now dying, and death was
near. She retained all her courage aid
will, but not her strength.
Dick gave her several blows with his
knife. She groaned almost as a human
being would have done, and fell upon
her side. But she recovered in an instant
and stiikiDa: Dick, she threw him to the
earth. But the father had seized his be
loved daughter, and throwing her a little
apart, she was now out of danger.
Not so witii himself.
He was now sttetched flat upon his
back, and both the rjaws of the beast
were upon his breast, and he could feel
the sharp claws entering his flesh. The
two great glassy eyes glaied into his own,
the terrible growl rang in his ears, the
jaws were extended the long white teeth
glistened, and the blood-red tongue was
ready to lap up his blood. He strug
gled, bat could not move. A moment
more and all would be over for him for
ever, now the death giip was fixed upon
And, to'add to his agony, he had seen
his child spring off and run toward the
edge of the cliff. It would be dashed to
pieces in falling, even as its brother had
But would this be a misfortune, since
the father must die? Would it not be
better for her to join her loved ones in
another world than to remaim in this cold
Just at that lnbHnt, however, there
came the report of a i '1e. The bear re
laxed her hold and fell heavily upon the
body of Dick. He rolVd the animal
away and sprang to his iett. A friend
nad arrived in time and not an instant
too soon. He was holding Eva in his
arms. She was not hurt.
The father could not help shedding
tears over his rescued darling, for never
before had she appeared half so dear to
him. But he resolved not to expose her
to any further danger of the kind, and so,
he took an almost immediate foeparture
for the home he had selected in the
The Marked Finger.
A jealous man, Sir Chester Bowden
Even when a boy, superficial people said
he was impeiious because he was a bai
onet at twelve years of age. Those who
knew better, who had information con
cerning the old familv of the Bowdens,
had no need to be informed that the
Bowdens were hard, proud, imperious
and jealous, though .just men. They
never did a wrong, and yet never seemed
to be in the right.
At the inquest it was said old Sir
Chestei accidently shot himself. But the
county families well knew he had taken
his own life. Even many of the com
mon people on the estate had little no
doubt upon this point. The reason?
Three months before the crash his wife
had fled from him. He made no effort
to seek her out, and it was only his death
and its manner which let people into the
secret of his love for her. She had been
nitied by her own servants through her
ten years of man ied life She was very
meek and mild, always stood up when he
entered the room, and to the end ot a 1
she called him Sir Chester. He alwajs
called her Lady Bowdea. They never
quarreled, and they were always dull.
She never smiled. There was some talk
of her having loved some young farmer
before she married so well but that was
doubtless scandal. However, she fled
Sir Chester died, shot, three months after
wards, and young 8ir Chester was nine
years of age. At Oxford he made but one
friend and many i neirr.es. Oxonians
hate Oxonians who are hot cheery and
friendly amongst themselves.
Boieyn Hever began by pitying Ches
ter Boyden, ad ended by liking him.
But they were never iamiliar. For in
stance, Hever always wore a piece of
flesh-colored plaster between the first and
second ioints of the middle finger ot the
left hand. Chester never asked the mean
ing of the patch and once when, while
boating, the plaster was nibbed away,
Chester never asked what was the mean
ing of the seven little tattooed stars he
saw where the plaster had been. The ex
planation, however, was very simple. A
rich old godfather, from whom the poor
ish Hevers had expectations, and being
an old sailor, had elected thus to mark
his godson. Boieyn Hever, being natur
ally a high class man, entertained a
strong disgust for these marks a disgust
which reached* moibidity, and he hid
them with flesh-colored plaster.
At twenty-three Sir Chester Bowden
married one ot the most dashing woman
of her year. He was as jealous as his
father, and as proud therefore he had no
fear of Lady Bowden being ungrateful.
She was poor.
Boieyn Hever, his neighbor, bad not
married, and was nursing his estate,
which had been left him when very much
At what precise moment Sir Chester
became jealous of his one friend he him
self never knew. He was too certain of
his own sufferings. He hated company,
but he was bound to give fetes, balls, &c.
It was the evening before the first anni
versary of his wedding, upon which oc
casion there was to be a ball. Sir Ches
ter had noticed his wife anxious all day,
and his demon prompted him terribly.
Why was shet anxious? .1
After dinner she pleaded sickness/ and
went to her usual sitting-room, into which
Sir Chester never intruded. An hour
afterwards he sent a servant to her with
some inquiry concerning the ball on the
following day. The servant returned,
saying that "my lady," was not in her
There was murder in Chester's heart
the next moment. But he onlyvtook up
a heavy riding-whip. &$$%*
No not in her room!
T^he first trace he found of her was a
pencil-case glittering in the moonlight.
i He drew a line in his mind's eye from the
house to it, and thence in the same direc
"To the grape-gates," he muttered "a
straight line to his house." On he went
Suddenly, being on tne top of a hillock,
he saw Boieynthere could be no ques
tion about the manand with him a
woman, hooded. They were going to
waids the great iron open-work gates,
which, from then pattern, were common
ly called the grape-gates. He uttered a
horrible cry, which evidently the couple
heard, for they hurried to the gates, to
which their was no lodge, and one of
which was open.
They must have seen Chester leaping
towards them, for they ran. He was with
in twenty yards of the couple when they
passed the great gates, which
to with a terrible1
noise Agaiwererswung Si Ches
ter uttered a savage cry. for he knew he
could not open them withou*- the key,
kept in his library, and that while he was
scaling the wall tbey would escape. He
ran to the gate, and then it must have
been that he fainted When he came to
himself, he saw vaguely in the moonlight,
and lying near him, a small, white obfect.
He touched it and shuddered. Briefly,
it was a human finger, tatooed with seven
small, purplish stais.
"It was Hever!" he muttPied.
The finger had unquestionably been
caught by the great iron gate,andnipped
off like a twig by the immense weight of
the iron acting on the edges of the gate.
How long had they escaped? In his fall
hiswatch-glass was broken, aud the hands
were stopped. He rever knew how he
got back to the house.
If you please, my lady is now in her
room. Here, help!" suddenly cried the
servant. He fainted again.
He went to his library, and there he
found the key of the grape-gates still
swinging on its nail tl
"How can she be back?" he thought.
I saw her take flight!"
She looked white when suddenly he
entered her room the first time 'he" had
done so during their married life.
"Have been from the castle. Lady
Bowden?" he asked.
No." she said, gravely.
By that time he knew that he had lain
insensible during a whole hour near the
"She must have returned," iie said,
by the gate, and passed carelessly by
my quiet body. She hates me. But why
has she returned?"
Next day he called upon Hevei. The
reply sent down was that Mr. Hever was
not well, but hoped to be at the ball in
the evening How he watched for
Boieyn Hover's appearance. He caine
and of course gloved. No sign ot the
Sir Chestei went up to him smilingly
on the left, and grasped his left hand.
The glove yi ided. The middle finger of
the glove had been stuffed with wool
They were standing a little apart. Still
ho'ding the maimed hand, he said
You have^sinned with my wife. You
fled from me last night but Heaven
avenged me, and cleft your marked fin
ger from your wicked hand. Dare you
"Beware! I have always been your
one friend, and last night was more your
friend than ever."
Hypocrite as well as monster! he said.
Do you know what I am going to do?''
"Kill that woman here before her
guests, and, like my father, make an end
"And as needlessly, madman. The
woman you saw came with me to warn
your wife, out of her own experience, to
bear any ciuelty you might heap upon
her rather than take flight. The poor
creature may or may not have been
guilty, Chester but she proved her love
for you when she lorced herself to see
your wife and save her from such an ou
cast life as her own has been for .many
years." l,^,^L .XJU ^iJL
Whowho was she?"
Your mother. Ah!is' there a doc
Past earthly4i?lp, for-Sis'Cuester Bow
den had fallen foiwarddead!
But his hands were entreatingly clasp
Execution by the Guillotine qL
A friend once described to us aa execu
tion which he witnessed in Paris, outside
the walls of the city prison,and in the pub
lic street. It took place in the gray of
dawn, and at the precise hour indicated in
the sentence. A squad of soldiers filed
out of the gates, and in a twinkling put
together the machinery of the guillotine,
some of them sprinkling sawdust on the
pavement while it was being put up. Be
foie this ww fairly finished the gate
swung open, and tjie criminal and execu
tioner and the spiritual adviser marched
out. Whatever religious exercises were
essential had been attended to within the
prison. The criminal, with his hands
bound behind him'anci a cap, drawn over
his head, was ledforth, his body bent for
ward over the carriage, which,&jp he press
ed it, shot forward on*' noiseless wheels,
and the knife fell with a glitter of its keen,
polished edge the head dropped into the
pasket awaiting it, the body was placed
in a coffin the machinery taken down, the
sawdust swept up, and the whole scene
was over. Within ten minutes by the
watch of the witness every trace f the
execution was over. The soldiers, the
priest, the executioner had disappeared*
and there was not even a drop of blood
upon the pavement to indicate a tragedy
had been there enacted.Cairo Bulletin,
A Pathetic StorY of the Dying: "Visions
of a Little Jeaf 9Euto.,
St. Louis Journal
The following story was told to a Jour
nal reporter yesterday by a lady whose
veracity is undoubted- Some four weeks
ago Carrie Wilson, an interesting little
girl, aged about ten years, after a pro
tracted illness, died at the residence of
her parents, No. 1021 North Fourth
street. From the day she entered this,
care-laden woild hei troubles began, for
she was born a deaf mute. Hef parents
were poor people, able only by the strict
est economy to shift thiough from one
year to another, and the little one, whose
organs of both hearing and speech had
been stricken by the Divine hand, was
looked upon as something human, of
course, but nothing mr than a little bit
of bodily ills, who would always in her
helplessness have to be provided for.
A few years ago her father died, and he?
mothei found it doubly hard to suppoit
a large family of small children. About
this time Mrs. Ann Bailey, a great heart
ed Christian woman, residing at No.
2708 Chouteau avenue, became acquaint
ed with Mrs. Wilson's cucumstances, and
having a tender spot in her heart tor the
little unfortunate, lor she also had a deaf
daughter, concluded to adopt little Cariie.
Mis. Wilson was not averse, and after a
few weeks sojourn in Mis. Bailey fam
ily Carrie was sent to Fulton. Missouri,
to be educated under the supervision of
Mr. and Mrs. Tuttle. She spent two
years there, acquiring knowledge with a
degree ot rapidity astonishing for one of
her tender years, but hei health always
poor, failed entirely, and she was brought
back to St. Louis to die.
Mrs. Wilson had in the meanwhile,
married again, and being in better cir
cumstances than when Mrs. Bailey
adopted Carrie, requested that she should
be once moie placed under her care. The
days went by, and the little innocent
cieature grew weaker and weaker, for
consumption never relaxes its grasp from
King or clod, Princess or peasant. One
forenoon Mrs. Bailey and her daughter
Mattie received a message stating that
Cairie was dying, and that she asked for
them contmualy, and half an horn later
they were at the bedside where the large,,
speaking eyes were taking on a happiei
Through her feeble signs she commun
icated the wish to be left alone witn her
benefactor, and when her relatives had
left the chamber she related the follow
ing story through her own peculiar
At eight o'clock that morning she was
all alone in the little room, hei mother
having leadjusted the pillows and gone
into another pait of the building to" at
tend to her household duties, and on look
ing up she saw her dead father bending
over her. She was not frightened for he
seemed so kind and good, and his face
was like the portrait she had so often
looked at for hours at a time in Mrs.
Bailey's drawing-roomthe portrait of
Chiist at the well in Samaiia.
He seemed pleased and happy," hei
little fingers said, and bending his
head down by the side of my ear he
whispered, and I heard just as "plain as
any person could hear, 'Came, my poor
little afflicted lamb, you will soen
have no more trouble, for I will take you
to Jesus in exactly four hours.' Even as
he said that, Mrs. Bailey, our clock in the
other room that I can see when the ioor
is open, and it was open then for mam
ma had left it that way if I wanted any
thing I could tap on the head-board and
she would hear it, indicated just eight.
'Only four hours more, Carrie,' he said,,
and i heard it so plain, too, and then, tak
ing my face between his hands, that were
so light and soft, and not a bit like they
used to be when he was on earth before,
he kissed ma such a long kiss, and left
The little hands lay quite still for a
minute or more, apparently tired out,
said Mrs. Bailey, and then they signaled
"I began to feel easier then. This
pain in heie (pointing to her heart) left
me all at once, and I thought I could get
up and play like I used to before got
sick. Oh, I know papa will come, for he
was so earnest, and he never told me but
one story, and that was about Santa
Claus, anditwasn(t a very big story.
Don't you think he will, Mrs. ^Baiiev?'
The little hands ceased their rapid
manipulations, said Mrs. Bailey, with a,
voice choking with emotion, the eyes left
mine and turned upward quickly, with a.
half smile, the feeble hands were raised
half above hei head, she gave a faint
flutter like that of a wounded Jbird, and
then nestled down quite still.V
The tired, tortured spirit^ that had
never known one moment of unalloyed
happiness on this earth, had gone out and
on its way to the better land. I left the
bedside, walked to the door^opflned it and
lifted my eyes to, the clock. The minute
fyind was justrpassing over thehou^-htaid
that told twelve o'clock.
of Harper's Magazine
sends to "The Drawer" a copy of an or
der received by a Broome county dennst,
which says: "My mouth is five inches
acrosst, five-eight iBches threw tie
jaw. Sum bumokT.qn^e ?edge. Shaped
like a boss-shew, toe^^orrad. If
want me to be more pertickler,
have to cum thar.''
Two fashionable tints for -summer cos
tumes will be mastic, a sort of whiter
brown, and a pale, greenish erav Tie
trunmmg will be ruffles, emrfroiaered in
red, black and yellow, or red, black and