0
I : LOST MARTS : §
«*••*• — 3
S-^ FALL KALI* MAGAZINE. ITS
It was, as far as I van ascertain.
In September of tin* year 1811, that '
a postchaise drew up before the door '
of Aswarby hall, in the heart of Lin- (
colnshlre. The little boy, who was ',
the only passenger in it. and who ;
jumped out. as soon as the chaise <
had stopped, looked about him with '
the keenest curiosity during the '
short interval that elapsed between J
the ringing of the bell and the open- {
ing Of the hall door. He saw a tall. ]
square, red brick house, built in the I ,
reign of Anne; a stone-pillared porch ]
had been added in the purer classi- '■
cal style of 1790; the windows of the j
house were many, tall and narrow, j '
with small panes and thick, white j
woodwork. A pediment, pierced with ,
a round window, crowned the front. ; ,
There were wings to right and left, | i
connected by curious glazed galleries, , :
supported by colonnades, with the ; '■
central block. These wings plainly !
contained the stables and offices of j
the house. Each was surmounted by ; ,
an ornamental cupola with a gilded •
vane. An evening light shone on the !
building, making the windowpanes ;
glow like so many tires. Away from
the hall in front stretched a flat
park studded with oaks and fringed
with firs, which stood out against
the sky. The clock in the church
tower, buried in trees on the edge of
the park— only its golden weather
cock catching the light— striking
six. and the sound came gently beat
ing down the wind. It was altogether
a pleasant impression, though tinged
with the sort of melancholy appro
priate to an evening in early autumn,
that was conveyed to the mind of the
boy who was standing in the porch
waiting for the door to open to him.
He had just come from Warwick
shire, and was an orphan of some
six months' standing; now, owing to
the generous and unexpected offer of
his elderly cousin, Mr. Abney, he •
had come to live at Aswarby. The .
offer was unexpected, because all ;
who knew anything of Mr. Abney .
looked upon him as a somewhat;
austere recluse, into whose steady- •
going household the advent of a '•
small boy would import a new and, '
it seemed, incongruous element. The '■
truth is that very little was known j
of Mr. Abney's pursuits or temper, i
The professor of Greek at Cambridge 1
had been known to say that no one [
knew more of the religious beliefs of j
the later pagans than did the owner
of Aswarby. Certainly the library I
at the hall contained all the avail- i
able literature of the Mysteries, the j
Orphic poems, the worship of Mithras :
and the Neo-Platonists. In the mar- j
ble-paved hall stood a fine group of
Mithras slaying a bull, which had .
been imported from the Levant at j
great expense by the owner. He (
had contributed a description of it to :
the Gentleman's Magazine; and he l
had written a remarkable series of ,
articles in the Critical Museum on I
the superstitions of the Romans of j
the Lower Empire. He was looked j
upon, in fine, as a man wrapped up in :
his books, and it was a matter of .
great surprise among his neighbors
that lie- should ever have heard of
his orphan cousin, Stephen Elliott,
much more that he should have vol- ,
unteered to make him an inmate of ,
Aswarby hall. I,
Whatever may have been expected ,
by his neighbors, it to certain that Mr. j
Abney. the tall, the thin, the austere, ;
seemed inclined to give his young •
cousin a kindly reception. The mo- '■
ment the front dcor was opened he |
darted out of his study, rubbing his ■
hands with delight. 1 '
"How are you. my boy? how are -
you? How old are you?" said he— '
"that Is, you are not tco much tired, i
I hope, by your journey to eat sup
per?" '•
■ "No, thank you. sir." Raid Master
Elliott; "I am pretty well." . ;
"That's a good lad," said Mr. Ab- '
ney. "And how old are you. my boy?"
It seemed a little odd that he should >
have asked the question twice in the
first two minutes of their acquaint- .
ance. :* : ' V* I
"I'm twelve years old next birthday, '
sir." said Stephen.
"And when is your birthday, my dear
boy? Eleventh of September, eh?
That's well— that's very well; nearly
a year hence, tent it? I like— ha!
— 1 like to net these things down in my
hook. Sure it's twelve— certain?"
"Yes, quite sure, sir."
"Well, well; take him to Mrs.
Hunch's room. Parkes, and let him
have bis supper— whatever it is."
"Yes, sir," answered the rtaid Mr.
Parkes; and conducted Stephen to the ,
lower regions.
Mrs. Bunch was the most comfort
able and human person whom Stephen
had as' yet met in Aswarby. She made
him completely at home, and they were
great friends after the first quarter of
an hour— as indeed they continued.
Mrs. Bunch had' been born in the
■ neighborhood some fifty-five years be
fore the date of Stephen's arrival, and
her residence at the Hall was of
twenty years' standing. Consequent
ly, If any one knew the Ins and outs
of the house and the district, Mrs.
Bunch knew them; and she- was by no
means disinclined to communicate her
Information. Certainly there were
plenty of thing- about the Hall and the
Hall gardens which Stephen, who was
of an adventurous and inquiring turn,
was anxious to have explained to him.
"Who built the temple at the end of
_
."To Remove Paint. |
£•'"""-*•. •"• Sit down on it before it
< *G7**S > is dry-," ' Texas Sif tings.)
it*-*' -j
J/*f_Ni That's a good way :
\>^ffm — easy, coo ; And
Jg-sgp/ . another
cC ( jIL way is to do
til aH Jr your clean- i
'K^mf 'J% m $ •*-•*■ the •
fSMHi 1 old-fash- [
io':'-c. way with soap; the
necessary nibbing takes off !
the paint along with the dirt, j
but .his is very tiresome work. !
Yo.i ought to do your house- j
cleaning with Pc £- • i nt . that's |
the modern way— easiest and
most economical way — takes
away the dirt easily and leaves
the paint. Saves rubbing,
saves work, saves time, saves
whatever is cleaned. Use
Pearline (no soap) on any
thi.-to* that, water doesn't hurt.
the laurel walk? Who was the old .
mail whose picture hung on the t-taii- |
case— Bitting at a table with a skull
under his hand?" These and many I
similar points were cleared up by the j
resources of Mrs. J Bunch's powerful
Intellect There were others, however, I
of which the explanations furnished '
were less satisfactory. One November
evening Stephen was sitting by the '
fire In the housekeeper's room reflect
ing on his surroundings. "Is Mr. Ab- |
ney a good man, and will he go to
heaven?" he suddenly asked, with the
peculiar confidence which children I
possess In the ability of their elders to
settle these questions— the decision of
which Is believed to be reserved for '
other trbunals. !
"Good?— bless the child!" said Mrs.
Bunch. "Master's as kind a soul as
ever 1 see! Didn't I ever tell you of
the little boy as he took In, out of the
street, as you may say, this seven ,
years back? and the little girl, two
yearn after 1 first come here?" j
"No; do tell me all about them, Mrs.
Bunch— -now this minute!" j
"Well," said Mrs. Bunch, "the little j
girl 1 don't seem to recollect so much
about. I know Master brought her ,
back with him from his walk one day,
and give orders to Mrs. Ellis, as was j
housekeeper then, as she should be
took every care with. And the pore
child hadn't no one belonging to her—
she ' tolled me so her own self: and '
here she lived .vith us a matter of ;
three weeks it might be; and then, '
whether she were somethink of a gip- j
sy in her blood or what not, but one
morning she out of her bed afore any ;
of us had opened a eye, and neither i
track nor yet trace of her have 1 set ;
eyes on f:inee. Master was wonderful |
put about, and had all the ponds .
draggged; but it's my belief she was |
had away by them gipsies, for there '
was singing round the house for as
much as an hour the night she went, ;
and Parkes he declares a- he heard
them a-calling in the woods all that
afternoon. Dear, dear! an odd child
she was, so silent in her ways and all;
but I was wonderful taken up with her,
so domesticated she was— surprising."
"And what about the little boy?" i-aid"
Stephen.
"Ah, that pore boy!" sighed Mrs.
Bunch. "He were a foreigner—
army he called himself— he came
a-tweaking his urdy gurdy round and
about the drive one winter day, and
Master ad him in that minute, and
ast all about where he came from, and '
how old he was, and how he made his
way. and where was his. relatives, and
all as kind as heart could wish. But
it went the same way with him.
They're a hunruly lot, them foreign
nations, I do suppose, and he was off
one fine morning just the same as the
girl. Why he went and what he done
was our question for as much •as a
year after; for he never took his urdy
gurdy, and there it lays on the shelf."
The remainder of the evening was
spent by Stephen in miscellaneous
crosi?-examination of Mrs. Bunch and
in efforts to extract a tune from the
hurdy gurdy.
That night he had a curious dream.
At the end of the passage at the top
of the house, in which his bedroom was
situated, there, was an old disused
bathroom. It was kept locked, -but the
upper half of the door was* glazed, and,
since the muslin curtains which used
to hang there had long been gone, you
could look in and see the lead-lined
bath affixed to the wall on the right
hand, with Its head towards the win
dow. On the night of which I am
speaking, Stephen Elliott found him
self, as he thought, looking
through the glazed door. The
moon was shining through
the window, and •he . was gazing
at a figure which lay in the
bath. His description of what he saw
reminds me of what 1 once beheld my
self in the famous vaults of St. '■
Michan's Church, in Dublin, which pos
sess the horrid property of preserving
corpses from decay for centuries. A
figure inexpressibly 'thin and pathetic,
of a dusty leaden color, enveloped in a '
shroud-like garment, the thin lips
crooked into a faint and dreadful smile,
the hands pressed tightly over the
region of the heart. As he looked upon
it, a distant, almost inaudible moan
seemed to issue from its lips, and s the
arms began to stir. The terror of the
sight forced Stephen backwards, and
he awoke to the fact that he' was in
deed standing on the' cold boarded floor
of tne passage in the full light of the
mocn. With a courage which I do not
think can be common among beys of
his age he went to the door of the
bathroom to ascertain if the figure of
his dream were really there.- It was
not, and he went back to bed. Mrs.
Bunch was much impressed nex.t morn
ing by his fetory, and went so far as to
replace the muslin -curtain over the
glazed door of the bathroom. • Mr. Ab- :
ney, moreover, to whom he confided his
experiences at breakfast, was greatly
interested, and made notes of the mat
ter in what he called "his book."
The spring equinox was approaching
as Mr. Abney frequently reminded his
young cousin, adding that this had
been always considered by the ancients
to be a critical time for the young;
that Stephen would do well to take
care of himself, and to shut his bed
room window at night; and that Cen
sorinus had some valuable remarks on
the subject. Two Incidents that oc
curred about this time made an im
pression upon Stephen's mind.
The first was after an unusually un
easy and oppressed night that he had
passed— though he could not recall any
particular dream that he had had.
The following evening Mrs. Bunch
was occupying herself in mending his
nightgown. "Gracious me, Master
Stephen!" she broke forth, rather ir
ritably, "how do you manage to tear
your nightdress all to flinders this
way? Look here, sir, what trouble
you do give to poor servants that have
to darn and mend after you!"
There was indeed a most destructive
and apparently wanton series of
silts or scorings in the garment,
which would undoubtedly require
a skillful needle to make good.
They were confined to the left side of
the chest— parallel slits, about
six inches in length, some of them not
quite piercing the texture of the linen.
Stephen could only express his entire
ignorance of their origin; he was sure
they were not there the night before.
"But," he said, "Mrs. Bunch, they're
just the same as the scratches on the
I outside of my bedroom door; and I'm
j sure I never had anything to do with
■ making them."
| Mrs. Bunch gazed at him open
! mouthed, then snatched up a candle,
! departed hastily from the room, and
j was heard making her way up stairs.
[In a few minutes she came down.
! "Well," she said, "Master Stephen,
] it's a funny thing to me how them
j marks and. scratches can a come there
—too high up for any cat or dog to
aye made 'em, much less a rat; for
; all the world like a Chinaman's finger
nails, as my uncle in the tea trade
used to tell us of when we was girls
together. I wouldn't say nothink : to
Master, not if I was you, Master
Stephen, my dear; and just turn the
key of the door when you go to your
bed." ;..;.*-:1...
"I always do, Mrs. Bunch, as soon as
I've said my prayers." .'.. '
"And that's a good child; always say
your prayers, and then no one can't
hurt you." /,;■'", ■'-'... ; * .
Herewith Mrs. Bunch addressed her
self to mending the injured nightgown,
with intervals of meditation, .' until
11115. SAiJNi - I'AUL UAltri GLOBE: •-"'WEDNESDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 25, 1895
' bed time. This was on a Friday night in
. March, 1812. ',*>. ■ : . :
j On the following evening the usual
duet. of Stephen and Mrs. Bunch was
| augmented by the sudden arrival ;of
I Mr. Parkes, the butler, who as a rule
kept himself rather to himself In his
own pantry. He did not see that
Stephen was there; he was, moreover,
1 flustered and less slow of speech* than
I "was his wont. "Muster may get up his
own wine, if he likes, of an evening,"
i was his first remark. "Either I do it
| In the daytime or not at all. Mrs.
! Bunch. I don't know what It may he;
; very like it's the rats, or the wind got
! Into the cellars; but I'm not so young as
< I was, and I can't go through with It
as I have done." * . - ;
! "Well, Mr. Parkes, you know It Is a
surprising place for the rats, is the
Hall." .rr-.V.;;/----;..^" ■
"I'm not denying that. Mrs. Bunch;
and, to be sure, many a time I've heard
the tale from the men in the ship
yards about the rats that' could speak.
I never, laid no confidence in that be
fore; but tonight, if I'd demeaned my
self to lay my ear to the door of the
further bin, 1 could pretty much have
heard what they was saying."
"Oh, there, Mr. Parkes, I've no pa
tience with your fancies! Rats talk
ing in the wine-cellar, Indeed!"
"Well, Mrs. Bunch, I've no wish to
argue with you; all I say Is. If you
choose to go to the far bin, and lay
your ear to the door, you may prove
my words this minute."
"What nonsense you do talk, Mr.
Parkes-not fit for children to listen to!
Why,* you'll be frightening^ Master
Stephen there out of his wits."
i "What! Master Stephen?" said
' Parkes, awaking to the consciousness
of his presence. "Master Stephen
knows well enough when I'm a playing
i a joke with you. Mrs. Bunch."
. In fact, Master Stephen knew much
: too well to suppose that Mr. Parkes
i had In the first instance intended a
: joke He was interested, not altogeth
i er pleasantly, in the situation; but
1 all his questions were unsuccessful
' in inducing the butler to give any more
! retailed account of his experiences in
I the wine cellar.
i We have now arrived at March 24,
' 181° It was a day of curious experi
ences for Stephen; a windy,
: noisy day, which filled the * house
and the gardens with a restless
impression. As Stephen stood by the
fence of the grounds, and looked out
into the park, he felt as if an endless
procession of unseen people were
sweeping past him on the wind, borne
. on reslstlessly and . aimlessly, vainly
striving to stop themselves, to catch
at something that might arrest their
flight and bring them, once again n.to
contact with the living world of which
they had formed a part. After lunch
eon that day Mr. Abney said: Ste
phen, my boy. do you think you could
manage to come to me tonight as late
as 11 o'clock in my study .' I shall be
busy until that time, and I wish .to
show you something connected with
your future life which it is most im
portant that you should know. You
are not to mention this matter to Mrs.
Bunch nor to any one else) in the house;
and you had better go to your room
at the usual time." •
: Here was a new excitement added to
' life- Stephen eagerly grasped at the
opportunity of sitting up till 11 o clock.
He looked in at the library door on his
way up stairs that evening, and saw
i a brazier, which he had often noticed
in the corner of the room, moved out
before the fire; an old silver-gilt cup
I stood en the table, filled with red wine,
and some written sheets of paper lay
near it Mr. Abney was sprinkling
some Incense on the brazier from a
round silver box as Stephen passed,
but did not seem to notice his step,
i The wind had fallen, and there was a
still night and a full moon. At a.oout
10 o'clock Stephen was -standing at the
open window of his bedroom looking
out over the country. Still as the
night was, the mysterious population
of the distant moonlit woods was not
yet lulled to rest. From time to time
strange cries as of lost and despairing
wanderers sounded from 'across the
me**e They might be the notes of
! owls or water birds, yet they did not
! quite resemble either sound. Were not
they coming nearer? Now they sound
ed from the nearer side of the water,
and in a few moments they seemed to
' be floating about among the shrub
: beries. Then they ceased; but just as
Stephen was thinking of shutting the
window and resuming his reading of
"Robinson Crusoe," he caught sight of
two figures standing on the gravelled
terrace that ran along the garden side
' of the hall-two figures of a boy and
' girl as it seemed; they stood side by
side', looking up at the windows. Some
thing in the form of the girl recalled
Irresistibly his dream of the figure in
the bath. The boy inspired him with
more acute fear. Whilst the girl stood
Still half smiling, with her hands
clasped over her heart, the boy, a thin
shape, with black hair apd ragged
! clothing, raised his arms in the air
! with an appearance of menace and of
: unappeasable hunger and longing. The
! moon shone upon his almost trans
parent 'hands, and Stephen saw that his
nails were fearfully long and that the
light shone through them. As he
stood with his arms thus raised, he
I disclosed a terrifying spectacle. On
! the left side of his chest there opened
a black and gaping rent; and there fell
upon Stephen's brain, rather than upon
his ear, the impression of one of those
! hungry and desolate crier, that he had
i heard resounding over the woods of
' Aswarby all that evening. In an
! other moment this dreadful pair had
; moved swiftly and noiselessly over the
1 dry gravel, and he saw them no more.
I Inexpressibly, frightened as he was, he
j determined to take his candle and go
I down to Mr. Abney's study; for the
hour appointed for their meeting was
: near at hand. The study or library
j opened out of the front hall on one
i side; and Stephen, urged on by his
! terrors, did not take long -in getting
i there. To effect an entranpe was not
!so easy. It was not locked, he felt
i sure for the key was on the outside of
! the door as usual. His repeated
1 knocks produced no answer. Mr. Ab
j ney was engaged; he was speaking.
: What? why did he try to cry out? and
| why was the cry choked in his throat?.
! Had he, too, seen the mysterious chil
dren who were . tracking their prey
i round that house of terrors? But now
' everything was quiet, and the door
! yielded to Stephen's terrified and fran
tic pushing. He did not come to him
■ self for many hours after he had looked
i in. . . , '
On the table In Mr. Abney study
' certain papers were found which ex
j plained the situation to Stephen Elliott
I when he was of an age to understand
! them. The most Important sentences
| were as follows:
"It was a belief very strongly and
j generally held by the 'ancients— of
I whose wisdom In these matters I have
| had such experience as induces me to
I place confidence in. their assertions—
that by enacting certain processes,
I which to us moderns have something
I of a barbaric complexion, a very re
markable enlightenment of the spirit
ual faculties in man may be attained:
that, for example, by absorbing the
personalities of a certain number of
his fellow creatures, an individual may
gain a complete ascendency over those
orders of spiritual beings which control
the elemental forces of our universe.
It is recorded of Simon Magus that he
was able to fly in the air, to become
invisible, or v to assume any form he
pleased, by the agency of the soul of
a boy whom, to use the libelous phrase
employed by the author of the Cle
mentine Recognitions, he had 'mur
dered.' I find It set down, moreover,
with considerable detail In the writings
of Hermes. Trismegistus that similar
happy results may be produced by the
absorption of the | hearts of not less
than three human beings below the age
of. ; twenty-one .years., To the testing;
of the truth of this receipt I have de
voted the greater part of the last twen
ty years, selecting as the corpora villa
of my experiment such persons as
could conveniently he removed without
| occasioning, a sensible gap In society.
The first step I effected by the removal •
of one Phoebe Stanley, a girl of gipsy i
extraction, on March 24, 1792. The sec- ;
ond, by the removal of a wandering j
Italian lad, named -Giovanni Paoll, on
the night of March 23, 1805. The final '
'victim'— to employ a word repugnant
in the highest degree to my feelings— j
must he my cousin, Stephen Elliott.;
His day must be this March 24, 1812. :
"The best means of effecting the re
quired absorption Is to remove the
heart from the living subject, to re
duce It to ashes, and to mingle them
with. about, a. pint of some red wine,
preferably port. The remains of the
first two subjects, at least, it will be
well to conceal- a disused bath room
or -wine cellar will be found convenient
for such a purpose. Some annoyance
may be experienced from the psychic
portion of the subjects— popular
language ' dignifies with the name of
ghosts...' But the man of philosophic
temperament— to. whom alone the ex-
periment is appropriate— will be little
prone to attach importance to the
feeble efforts of these beings to wreak
their vengeance on him. I contemplate
with the liveliest satisfaction the en
larged and emancipated existence
Which the experiment; if successful,
will confer on me; not only placing me
beyond the reach of human justice,
but eliminating to a great extent the
prospect of death itself."
Mr. Abney was found in his chair,
his head thrown'back, his face stamped
with an expression of rage, fright, and
mortal pain. In his left side was a
terrible lacerated wound, exposing the
heart. . There .was no blood on his
hands, and a long knife that lay on the
table was perfectly clean. A savaga
wild cat might have inflicted the In
juries. . The window of the study was
open, and it was the opinion of the
coroner that Mr. Abney had met his
death by the agency of some wild crea- (
ture. But Stephen Elliott's study of I
the papers I have quoted led him to a
very different conclusion.
— Montague James.
The Most Popular Highway of
Travel
Penetrating the principal cities of the
East— shortest line between Chi
cago and Boston with solid through
trains to New York city via Ft.
Wayne, Cleveland and Buffalo, and
the only line via these cities having
colored porters on its first and second
class day coaches at the disposal of its
patrons, is the Nickel Plate Road,
whose excellent train service and most
liberal rates have long been recognized
by east-bound travelers. J. Y. Cala
. han, General Agent, 111 Adams street,
Chicago, 111.
mm
ROUNDING IP HORSES.
Thousands of Animals Gathered
in by the Bronze Hitlers.
Anaconda Standard.
Five, thousand horses in a single
bunch, rearing, running, snorting,
and shying, urged on by two score
picturesque Indian and half-breed
riders, sending into the air a cloud
of dust that envelops and partially
conceals the vast' band of cayuses as
the riders, with swish of ropes, with
shouts and yells, urged. on the surg
ing band of half-wild creatures be
fore them. •'-:''
It is a picture seldom seen now, and
only possible in the unrestricted
range of the reservation, a picture,
if seen, never to be forgotten. ' The
scene has an incomparable setting.
In the .background, rise the rugged
majestic peaks of the Mission range;
from their base strentches forward a
dense, black area of timber and,
in the foreground, the rolling prairie
of the valley of the Pend d'Orielle
river. Overhead the sky is clear, but
above the mountains snow clouds
hover and the rocky peaks are al
ready silvered with the first white
covering of the year.
For five days these bronze riders
have scoured the northern range of
I the reservation, driving before them
; every horse that was found in this
I long stretch of country. They have
j ridden across the rolling ground of
! the lower valley; they have searched
j the canons; they have penetrated-the
' dense timber of the foothills; they
| have climbed to open parks on the
1 mountain side. From valley and
I canon and hillside they have driven
| the half-wild horses, and have gath
i ered them on the banks of the Pend
i d'Oreille river. for the cutting out.
| Five thousand tossing heads, ten
' thousand vicious eyes, twenty thou
sand tramping hoofs! Almost as far
; as the eye can reach are horses,
; horses, horses. There are steeds of
| every color and of every size. Nearly
! all of them are the mean, treacher
j ous Indian ponies, some of them
! shapely and handsome, it is true, but
I in every eye is a flash of wildness
j that betokens. ill for the man who
i attempts to tame the owner. Here
! and there in a mass of horses that is
j being urged' onward at a trot is a
j big, fine-looking animal . that cvi
! dences good breeding. But there are
j too many of these. They are nearly
all cayuses of the cayusest order.
At one of the ranches on the banks
j of the river there are three big, well
- fenced pastures, and here the cut
ting out will be. done. On the reser
vation there' are. now about 15,000
horses, and of these it is estimated
that fully 2,000 have- no right to the
Indian range. This will do much to
j improve the condition of the. range,
j and it is for this purpose that the
j big round-up has been undertaken.
The band of horses now being driv
en toward the extemporized corrals
has been gathered in the region north
I of the Pend d'Oreille river. As soon
as the cutting out has been accom
plished the riders will cross the river
and will round up the stock between
that stream and Crow creek, and
there will be another separation at
thelAllard ranch on Mud creek. In
addition to the removal of all alien
horses Agent Carter has ordered
that all cayuse stallions may be dis
posed of in "order, that there may
be some improvement in the grade
of horses raised on the reserve. Thus
the round-up will accomplish a dou
ble purpose. '."' _,
A SCARCITY OK WHALEBONE).
The World's Supply Is Limited,
. und in the Hands of a Steam
.Whaling Company.
Boston Herald.
■Women who wear whalebone and
men who use whips will probably be In
terested In knowing that the North Pa
cific whaling fleet has returned from Its
voyage in Northern waters with a
catch of but twenty-seven whales this
season. This means that the price of
whalebone, which has increased more
than one-third at wholesale, is likely
to go much higher, and that dressmak
ers' bills and the price of good whips
will shortly be increased. There are
signs of a whalebone famine, as the
total supply of that material in this
country today is only 118,000 pounds, as
against 370,000 pounds Dec. 1, last year.
The world's supply of whalebone Is
practically controlled by the Pacific
Steam Whalebone company, which is
a syndicate of whalers in New York
city. There is the New Bedford catch,
to be sure which is independent of the
-syndicate, but this is small compared
with that of the New York company.
*. "••!'.•. ''.*•' '■-. .■:■■ — ' i
CASTORIA
for Infants and Children.
" Castoria is • well adapted to children that Castoria cures Colic, Constipation,
i recommend it us superior to any prescription Sour Stomach, Diarrhoea, Eructation,
known to me." 11. A. Archer, M. D., -.-< :* Kills Worms, gives Bleep, and promotes <U>
111 So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. Y. gestion,
Without injurious medication.
- l* "~~ """"
"The use of •Castoria* fa so universal and "For several years I have recommended
Its merits so well known that it seems a work 'Castoria,* and shall always continue to do
of supererogation to endorse It. Few are the so, us It has invariably produced beneficial
Intelligent families who do not keep Castoria results."
within easy reach." • •' ' ■ Edwin F. Pardee, M. D.,
">7'£ Carlos Mabtvn, D. D., *• (■* '■•• 125 th Street and 7th Aye., New York City.
-•.'-i. New York City.
The Centaur Company, .77 Murray Street, New York City.
The price is practically made by the
syndicate, which exports to Europe
most of the whalebone used in Lon
don and Par's, but which' will, have
very little for sale abroad year.
The Antarctic fleet, which markets its
catch in London, has not been very
successful this year, and the main
supply will come from the North Pa
cific fleet, which has taken an amount
much less than is used by this country
alone.
SCALED
SCARED
By One Lone Indian While (Mil on |
the Prairie Without a Gun.
Denver News. •
"The worst scare I ever had," said
Judge Blackham, of Texas, who is
visiting in the city this winter, "was I
caused by one lone Indian. I have j
been through fights with' the Indians
when they were falling on all sides, I
but that one Indian made my hair |
stand on end, sure enough. My part- j
ncr and I had taken up forty acres j
of land on Ralston creek, just above
where the creek empties into Clear j
creek. One day while holding down i
the ranch I was walking along the I
stream when I saw- an Indian ap- 1
proaching on horseback. He came j
at a sweeping gait down the trail, i
with his spear elevated horizontally, j
as if about to annihilate the first j
living object he should encounter, j
On he came like a thunderbolt. I :
had no gun, had left my pistol at the
cabin, and had nothing larger a3 a
weapon than a pocket knife. On |
came the painted horseman of the •
plains. I could not fight — not j
hope to run fast enough to get away •
and my only recourse was to dodge .
and play friend. Although every ,
pore in my skin burst into per- j
spiration and cold chills crept along j
my spine, I walked ' on toward the '
approaching foe. I remember that i
all the sins I had ever committed !
flashed through my mind, and my j
whole history seemed to pass like a J
panorama before mcl I
"When the savage had approached j
to about two pony lengths of me he,
suddenly 'dropped his spear, and, j
rushing his steed almost to my face, ;
reached out his hand with a 'How! j
Howis-Tobac!'
I "I had no bad habits at that time,"
continued the story teller, "and I had j
neither plug nor bottle with me. The j
only thing I could part with was a
large rubber comb, and I succeeded
in pacifying the Indian with that .
comb. I felt that it was a narrow j
escape, and if ever the light, fan
tastic toe was tripped it was toward |
the Ralston creek ranch that after- j
noon."
■-■»»
The Solid Through Trains
Of the Nickel Plate Road, equipped I
with the most modernly-con3trucled '
day coaches and luxurious sleeping and
dining cars, illuminated . throughout,
with the famous Pintsch gas lights, j
and Colored porters in charge of day i
coaches, are some of the features of !
this popular line that are being recog- [
nized by travelers seeking the lowest'
rates and fast time. J. Y. Calahan, |
General Agent, 111 Adams street, Chi
cago, 111.
— ******
THE CIIINAMANJS WEAPON.
A Hoodlum Finds Out That John
Is Unite Effective.
New York Sun.
For all the average Chinaman is j
so inoffensive in appearance, his cv- I
cry-day dress comprises one feature '■
that can be used with effect in re- ;
pelling an attack. A Chatham
square tough found this out the oth- ;
er day, and he is still limping from ;
the effects of his encounter with one ;
of the most undergrown and meekest
looking Celestials that ever starched •
a shirt. This Chinaman was walking J
1- ' I — —
I THE EVOLUTION OP A MATHEMATICIAN".
along slowly, but with a considera
ble clatter by reason of a large pair
of Chinese shoes with stubby ends,
and he had just turned out of Doyers
street, when the tough, who was
lounging against a saloon wall, un
dertook to have some fun with him.
"Hold up, Chink," said the tough,
"lend us a pipeful of dope."
At the same time he reached for
j ward, and, seizing the Celestial's pig
j tail, brought him to an abrupt halt.
I With an angry chatter that only.
I served to call, forth a boisterous
| shout of laughter from his persecutor
! and a number of other loafers, the
i Chinaman thrust a hand into his
blouse, as if he had a weapon there,
but, changing his mind, turned away
and would have gone but that the
tough tweaked his pigtail again,
bringing him up short. This time
the victim looked anxiously about
him as if for help. All the men near
were enjoying his discomfiture. Evi
dently no aid was to be expected
from them. Face to face with him
the tormentor stood, grinning ma
liciously. The Chinaman, raised an
admonitive forefinger and, pointing
it solemnly at the tough, addressed
him in measured accents.
j "He's cussin' youse in the Chink way,
Speck," said one of the bystanders.
"Likely youse'll sea a joss come chasm'
you up the Bow'ry some night."
. "Let 'im cuss," said Speck. "I can
give him cards and 'spades in cussin'."
He began, and, to gather inspiration,
.thrust his hands deep into his pockets.
This was a fatal mistake. There was a
swift movement of the little Chinaman's
leg, a wild yell, and the tough's right
leg seemed suddenly to have lost its [
stability. Again the ChinamfJn kicked, |
landing on Speck's oth c s-'iin with his
heavy, blunt shoe, and the persecutor
sank down on the sidewalk. Like light- j
ning the Celestial shook off one of his |
shoes into his hand, brought it down
twice on Speck's head with resounding
whacks, stretching tha' worthy flat
upon the sidewalk, and then darted ■
around the corner before the rest of th?
loafers got their breath. They lifted
their comrade tenderly, and, carrying
him into a saloon, treated him with
the Chatham square panacea— five-cent
whisky. . When he had recovered, his
first words were: ■ ■-
"Wat fell on me?"
They explained to him the circum
stances of the shoes. . -:>".
"Take me to the hospital," he groan
ed. "Me leg is broken an' me head is
full of bumps, done by dat ratty little
wed-off pigtail. ' I'll never speak to a
Chink again on my life."
Do Not Neglect
The opportunity to visit dear friends
during the holidays. The Nickel Plate
Road, always catering to the wants of
the traveling public, the popular low- |
rate line along the south shore of i
Lake Erie, will sell tickets at greatly j
reduced rates on Dec. 24, 25, 31 and Jan. i
1, good returning until Jan. 2. For I
further particulars apply to J. Y. Cala- I
han, General Agent, 111 Adams street,
Chicago, 111.
The Difference.
New York World.
Henley— Colonel, how much good old i
rye can you store away in a single j
evening? •• '0'
Colonel— all depends, sah.
Henley— On your capacity? '. ..
Colonel— sah ; the other fellow's j
capacity— for paying for it.
Tlie Answer,
New York World. ■-.*
Conundrumically-Inclined Bore — '
Why is a wife like a newspaper?
Able Editor (promptly)— Because cv- j
cry man should have one of his own !
and ' not borrow his neighbor's. Good j
day, _ ... ■■-'• '
— ■*■
Slightly Wild.'
Brooklyn Life.
"Mamma," remarked Johnny Run
kles, after he had absorbed a potash
lozenge, which had been given to him j
for his sore throat, "wasn't Esau an i
id.ot to sell his birthright for a mess of
this stuff?"
•\roni. the Sketch. j
-. A BRITISH DOLLAR.
John Hull to Put Out ii Silver Coin
for Oriental Trade.
. At last, says the Strand Magazine,
the slang word "dollar" for a crown
piece Is to be justified by the coining of
a genuine British dollar—and a very
fine coin it Is.
"At the Court' at Osborne House,
Isle of Wight, the 2nd day of February,
1895. -;■-■.;;
"Pr:sent:The Queen's MoslPLxcellent
Majesty, Lord President, Marquess of
Rlpon, Lord Chamberlain, Lord Ken
sington, Mr. Cecil Rhodes.
"Whereas, it is ditent to provide
for the coinage of a British silver
dollar for circulation in Our Colonies
of the Straits Settlements, Hong
Kong and Labium, and elsewhere;
1 . "Now, therefore. We, by and with
the advice of our Privy Council, and
by virtue of all powers vested In us
in that behalf, do hereby order as
follows: ' •:•'.*.
"1. A British dollar shall be coined
under the direction of the Master of
Our Mint, or at one of Our Mints In
British India, and be of the metal
I weight and fineness specified in the
Schedule to this Order.
i "2. Such dollar shall have for the
obverse impression the figure of Brit-
I annia standing upon a rock in the sea
her right hand holding a trident and
her left hand resting on a shield, with
a ship In the distance and the inscrip
tion 'One Dollar' and the date of the
year, the whole surround- by a
Chinese ornamental border; and for
the reverse impression, surrounded by
a similar border, a scroll pattern with
the Chinese labyrinth in the centre,
and the value of the piece in Chinese
and Malay characters respectively ar
ranged crosswise within the scroll."
The New British Dollar.
Such, with a few trivial omissions, is
the wording of the Royal Ord*r author
izing the coinage of a British silver dol
! lar. The fac-simile of it in No. 8 is
; larger than the original coin, which has
a diameter of 1% Inches and weighs 116
grains, or less than one ounce avoir
dupois (437-L. grains). The "Chinese lab
yrinth in the centre" is thoroughly
Chinese in the sense of being radically
different from anybody else's labyrinth
j there's no way into the middle, nor
out of it! The hieroglyphics on the
reverse side of the doll-:.' - stand for
"one dollar," the Chinese characters
occupying the upper and lower quarters
of the scroll; while the corresponding
Malay characters are to the right and
left. It is well to nrntion this to
avoid any mistakes, and, as the
Chinese minister in England is re
sponsible for the drawing of these
hieroglyphics, they may be taken as
accurate.
CINDER IX THE EYE.
Don't Try to 11 nh It Out—Rub the
Other Eye.
Nine persons of every ten, with a
cinder or any foreign substance in
I the eye, will instantly begin' to rub
; the eye with one hand while hunting
! a handkerchief . with the. other. Tho
I better way is not to rub the eye with
\ the cinder. in it at all, but rub the
other eye as. vigorously, as you like,
according to a writer in the Medical
Summary,, who relates the following
experience: "A few years since I
was riding on the engine of a fast
express. The engineer threw open the
front window and I caught a cinder
that gave most excruciating pain.
I began to rub the eye with both
hands. 'Let your eye alone - and rub
the other,' said the engineer. I thought
he was chaffing me. and worked
the harder. 'I know you doctors think
you know it. all. but if you will let '
that eye alone and rub the other one
the cinder will be out in two min
utes,' persisted the engineer. I began
to rub the other eye; soon I felt the
cinder down near the inner canthus,
and made ready to take it out. 'Let it
alone and keep at the well eye,'shout
ed the doctor pro tern. • I did so for
a minute longer, and looking in a
small glass he gave me found the
offender on my cheek. Since that
time I have tried it many times, and
have advised many others to do so,
and have never known it to fail—
in one instance, unless it was sharp
as a piece of steel or something that
cuts into the ball and requires an
operation to remove it."
Mrs, Winslowlii Soothing Syrup
Is an OLD and WELL-TRIED REM
EDY, and for over FIFTY YEARS has
been used by millions of mothers for
their CHILDREN while CUTTING
TEETH with perfect success. It
' soothes the child, softens the gums,
reduces Inflammation, allays all pain,
cures wind colic. is very pleasant to
the taste, and Is the best remedy for
diarrhoea. Sold by druggists in every
part of the world. PRICK TWENTY
FIVE CENTS A BOTTLE. Be sure
and ask for MRS. WINSLOW'S
SOOTHING SYRUP and take no other
kind, as mothers will find it the Best
Medicine to use during the teething
period.
DR. FELLER,
180 E. Seventh St., St. Paul Minn
Speedily cures all private, nervous,
chronic and blood and skin diseases of
both sexes, without the use of mercury
or hindrance from business. NO
CURE, NO PAY. Private diseases,
and all old, lingering cases where the
blood has become poisoned, causing ul- I
cers, blotches, sore throat and mouth,
pains in the head and bones,, and all
diseases of the kidneys and bladder are I
cured for lite. Men of all ages who aro I
suffering from the result of youthful
■ Indiscretions or excesses of maturo
years, producing nervousness, Indiges
tion, constipation, loss of memory, etc..
are thoroughly and permanently cured.
Dr. Feller, who has had many years
of experience In this specialty, is a
graduate from one of the leading med
ical colleges of the country. He has
never failed in curing any cases that
he has undertaken. Cases and corre
spondence sacredly confidential. Call
or write for list of questions.' Medi
cine sent. by mail and express every
where free from risk and exposure.
v.-;-*- . ■' •■■\'-V. : '-•
Time '
.-•■X''. 'V~" '-2 -'-'ci
Broken
Leave Minneapolis • /-'.••--**:'
*3»4-*S« ;
evening
I St. Paul at vSveW^^Hlfil at Chicago
*?:30 *MV WSM *>:»*> '
evening zJf/SiSm niurnin-f
Arrive at Kansas City
BtBO
afternoon
Chicago
Great
*?. Western
Route PAII-VV4V;
Patrons are given free library and news*
paper service. Trains brilliantly lighted,
steam heated, and scientifically ventilated.
A choice given in buying tickets at office, 7
Nicollet House Block, Minneapolis, or corner
Robert and Fifth Streets, St. Paul, between
Private Chamber and Modern Section sleep
ing cars. Appetizing and satisfying meals
served on elegant dining cars, 35 cents, v.p.
Quickest ™* most
comfortable
line to Chicago, Dubuque, "Waterloo, Mar.'
s'.ialltown, Dcs Moines, St. Joseph, Leaven
worth and Kansas City. Trains leave Chi
cago Great Western Depot. Tenth and Wash
ington Avenues South, Minneapolis, at 7:001
A. U. except Sunday, and 6:55 r. M. daily. and ;
Union Depot. St. Paul, at 7:30 a. m. except.
Sunday, and 7:30 p.m. daily.
! =****3
MAPLE LEAF ROUTE. Ticket Offices: Cor. P.obertand 5 1
Sts. and Union Depot- Trains leave Union Depot. St. Pas],
at 7:30 P.m. Daily, and 7:30 A.m., Except Sunday, for
Dubuque, CHICAGO, -Waterloo, Cedar Fall*. Marshall tos-a,
Dcs Moines, St. Joseph. Leavenworth and KAN3AB CITY.
Poize Center Local leaves at 4 P. m. Daily.
Trains :rom Kansas City arrive at 7:20 A. m. and 2:30 P.m.
Dally, and 7:28 P. m., Except Sunday, and from Chicago at
7:20 A.m. and 2:30 P.m. Daily, and 7:28 P. m., Except
Sunday.
/o&%\ TICKET OFFICE
4&g^£ East Third St:
Dining Cars on Winnipeg — >T. PAUL.—,
aud Pacific Coast Trains. | Leave. Arrive.
Pacific Mail (daily) for Far
go.Jainestowu, Livingston,
Bozeman, Helena. Unite,
Missoula, Spokane, Ta
coma. Seattle and Portland 1:15 pm 5:55 pm
Led Hi ver Valley Express
(daily) for Fergus Falls,
Wahpeton. Crookston.
Grand Forks, Grafton.
Winnipeg, Moorhead and
Fargo (to Jamestown, ex
cept Saturday) 8:30 pm 7:10 am
Fargo Local (daily except
Sunday) for St. Cloud.
Bralnerd and Fargo 9:90 am .":.''~ pa
Pullman First class and Tourist, >leeners.
'.^tfilg^fH TICKET OFFICES
355 Robert
&offipl V&jM^ St., Cop. 6th,
. ! [jJ4£fe^y .'Phone 480)
£j^*- i^f||g|jS^ and Union
mt-JjUl-a Depot."
Leave. | tEx. Sun. A Ex-Mon-'Daily. | Arrive
+6:23 j CHIC AG 0 *-***■
•S-.lOpm *■*'-*** x!r " *** w *.':.. | m
tlo*s.*i ami. .Duluth and Ashland.. +s:*v>pm
♦11:00 pm .. Duluth mid Superior.. •J-oOain
+?:4J ami. ..Omaha, Kansas City..; *7:'*oaui
1«:40 am su Cv. 8n Falls. Pipest'e *!'.:lopm
18:40 am Sioux Falls and Mitchell. AT-.-.T, am
:25pm ! Mankato, K. dm, Tracy. 1 10 :45 am
1 i:.' :-,* pm Watertown. Huron. Pierre; tC :lopm
*7:55 ptnlSn city. Omaha. Kan. C'y! *7:-'."> am
*7:.">.' ipm I "California in ■'< Days*". ..! '-" i .'.** am
.*l Trains leave St. Paul. Union
_^^L22*S? Depot, as follows: Daily, (1:45
'•S^^^Vfi^ •*• m - for New York. He-ton
Si SaslSft Montreal and all Eastern points
febVT-HT'llK Dining ear and through Bostou
EflDjsvlsll* < '*' attached, Dally. 0: '•') a.
ehtm^^SSM 11 '' for eal'.le. Tacoma. Port*
f*l---*"***'S£s£-iniid and Pacific coast points.
w v**' Through sleeper to Seattle at
tached. Daily, except Sunday, 5:10 p. m..
for Gleii'vooi Iron- Minneapolis. From
Broadway station, except Sunday. Wiscon
sin Div. local, 0:33 a. in.; St. Croix Falls
ace, 0:0."* p. m.
Chicago, Milwaukoo & SI. Paul Railroai
_ - - I l*v— St. Paul— Ar
Chicago "Day" Express.. |t-: •■;> am 1 :• : It* I'm
Chicago -'Atlantic" Ex... *.' :55 pm *i!:s> am
Chicago "Fast Mail" »':■"* pm *.':.■.* pra
Chicago "Vestibule" Liui. *S:10 i>m *7:*>> am
Chicago via Dubuque ... |tl:10pmltll:00 am
Dubuque via La Crosse. ltStDS am 1+10: pm
Peoria via Mason City... »1:10 pin "ll: <> am
St. Louis &. Kansas City.. »3:*B am *0:25 pm
Milbank and Way ts:Joam +J:J) pin
Milbank, +Fargo and Ab
erdeen ...:...: [*>3 pm «*:l am
♦Daily. tEx. Sun.. {Ex Sat.. Ib*x Moil.
For full Information call at ticket office.
Leave I'nfou Depot for
•SMryt|^^j>Ma>-Si Chicago, St Louis and
IjMQNjBB dovri! iivei' points 7:31
& l ill I iTHjl fi : '"•• m ; Ari '* VCB -I'-'m Chi
ff ii4 1 T M 1 Vl *Tt W*Lt IR c '" r " -'•''- l' •''••■ except
r||c*f***™nßiflß :^U Sunday Leaves ou
R'^TmmMHl l )e l otfor c !* ' i-:-.u*> and
ftSal ll . [IlHsSi •""•• '•""• s ~ ■*' V ■'■•' Ar "
KttfaOHgS&CTBg«K rives fr.ua se.ir.c points
rWn?*&?*' , friy7rTr7Tr T-.icn. m.. daily.
, I Trains leave daily for Pacific
Calfi mi Const 7:4."> p. in.; i'rei-kc.iridgo
.i-iotH*--' . Division and Branches,** a.m.;
N^alWsW Fergus •'""■-'« Division and
H-* ['ranches, S;:JJ a. m., ex. San;
«■ ii Willmar via St. Cloud. 4:00 p. m.:
Brcck., (l. F'fcs, Winnipeg, 0:10 p. m. daily.
For Mil! ml* a lid West Superior.
Eastern Minnesota Trains leave St. Paul
Union Depot daily, ex Sun., 8:30 a.m.: daiy
at 11:20 a. ra. Tickets 190 East Third streo
and Union Depo
» Trains leave St. Paul 12:35
iTOtSWw p. m. and 7:40 p. m. daily •
iLdh|||L^^l for Milwaukee. Chicago
/*ssS33l!Sffii '"'■' 1 intermediate points
|oKglß9M|| Arrive from Chicago S:ls
m. and ":•■"> p. m. daily
City ticket o-Hc-', J73 iiou.
Mil