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HER. SOLDIER. BOY
At the open flap of his narrow tent hanss a strip of the midnight skies. Pricked through by a myriad points of light, that flash in his tired eyes; -lie has waked from a dream of a summer day, and, now. with a throb of pain. He pillows his head on his young right aim, and summons the dream again. A pathway barred by shadow and shine. ; a glow in the golden west; A song in the rustling leaves o'erhead, as a bluebird hushes its nest; A slip of a girl in a muslin gown, a cadet in a coat of gray But the slim little hand he clasps in his is a half of the world away! Under Dogwood Blossoms. BY GEORGE BINGHAM. Copyrlght. 1901. by Daily Story Pub. Co.) Not far from Cadiz, on the crooked old Kentncky pike, an ox wagon cov ered with a dingy sheet overtook me. A tall man, who looked lazy, sat on a broken chair in front and drove, while back under the cover five tow-heads were stuck out to watch the slowly changing scenery. Under the shackly, rattling vehicle walked a lazy old brindle dog he could walk nowhere else, being tied to the axle with a rope. A scrub milch cow was tied to the back end of the wagon; the skillets and pans, fasten ed to the sides of the wagon-bed, rat tled and bumped; and buckets and pots swung from the axles beneath, as the wagon slowly passed along the pike. I dropped from the splotch of shade on a rail fence corner where I had sat for some time, and spoke to the man. "Good morning," he answered. "If you are going our way, hop up and ride." He reached back, got a handy bucket, turned it over, and I sat down beside him. When I told him my name he said he knew a person in Arkansas by the name of Andy Cobb, but that he was a negro. Then he laughed. He asked me which way I was going, and when I told him I was not particular which way, he said to me: I've been livin in Arkansaw for a good while, and am on my way to South Carolina to visit my wife's folks." Noticing the gait of his team, I asked him how long he had been en route, and in an easy manner he re plied: "Oh, little the rise of nine weeks." "When do you expect to get there?" "Kain't tell. Ain't no mor'n ha'f way yet. Who-a-a boys! Sally you and the brats hold tight back there, for here's another creek. You know whut fools these cattle are about water." Then he addressed me. "Ever' creek we come to they break in a run for it." The steers struck a brisk pace and when to the bank made a lunge which nearly upset the wagon. After riding an hour with him in which time we traveled abou. three miles I wished , them good luck and took the other fork of the road. True, I was not very particular which way I went, for I bad nothing to do. Two months :revious I had heard the little town of Snortsville wanted a newspaper, and that being the favorite one of my several voca tions, I went to the place and put "Something hit the earth." forth the Weekly Post, with a dusty octfit that had been abandoned some weeks before. In a few issues I found that the people did not want a local paper as bad as they thought they did. so I wound up my business, which took but' & few minutes, and walked out of 'own. and It was only a few mornings later that I was overtaken Through the vibrant bush of the starry night hums the life of a tropic clime. And under the breast of his khaki blouse the heart of the lad beats time. In a land where an endless summer . reigns, be dreams of a June gone by And a wandering wind - steals Into i tent and carries away a sigh! by the man going to visit his wife's folks. After leaving Mr. Botts I came to a crek. . The banks T7ere pretty with fragrant elder and dogwood blossoms, and birds fluttered over the clear, slowly-moving water, and chattered and chirped in the undergrowth. I heard the sound of rippling water, and going up-stream found - a cool,, clear, blue spring which rippled anl tumbled over recks on its way to the creek. I brushed the old acorns and sticks from a soft mossy slant end stretched out to rest. " . "Gil up here, cow. Pud! You derned old fool! Makin'. like you air skeered o" this place when you come here ever' day. . Quit that snortin' and git in there and drink befo' I larrup you with a hickory." I raised to my elbows and saw a "Come on back barefoot man trying to persuade a mule to drink at the stream. The con trary animal pranced around and went behind a bank, leaving only the rider's head visible to me. Of a sudden it be gan bobbing up and down,- and 1 heard him urging the mule to behave, tn language unsuitable to. reproduce. His head disappeared, his feet came np In the air, and something hit ths earth with a dull sound. When I got to the bank he was brushing the dirt and gravel from his shoulder, and when I asked him the trouble, he re plied: "Nothin. Blasted old mule just tossed me oft over her head. "Tuck Buchanan lives right np there on the ridge," he answered when I asked him where I might find some dinner. He spurred the mule in the flanks with his bare heels, and 1 watched the spry little animal pick her way up a rough path, sometimes leading under, low branches, which caused the rider to duck his head or push them back. Again I lay down on the moss. Scents of peach and apple blossoms came to me on the soft, lazy air. A farm-bell clanged somewhere np the creek bottom and was followed by an other and another. Plow-nvules brayed and hurried toward their rows' end. for ten ears of corn and an hour's rest was coming. . "Don't you want to walk down to the mill? I don't hear It running, l guess that trifln' fellow I've got at tendin to it is piled up in the corn box asleep, as he usually Is." said Mr. Buchanan to me the day after I went to his house. We went to the mill and, as he ex pected, we found the miller dozing In the corn-box. "I'd let him go if I had another man. Kit Smith wants the Job. but be ain't got any education and couldn't buy wheat or calculate on tolls." Being well satisfied with the sur roundings and desiring to remain in. ' that section. I insisted that Kit Smith, with my assistance, .could operate the tttill; and In a few days Mr. Smith and i had the Job. Mr. Buchanan was a homely old fel low, his profile at a distance remind ing me of the pictnre of some great old man I had seen in history, and 1 hardly saw how he could be the father of a girl so pretty and sweet as Miss Fannie. In a month I was also assistant man ager of the 'big farm for Mr. Buchan an had-decided 'that the greasy scum on a wet weather spring back In the field was signs?', 'of . an underground stream of coal oil and was figuring on organizing a stock company to drill. -- The smiles and kind words of Miss Fannie gave me a feeling a delightful thrill I had never before experienced. A young fellow accompanied her to church one Sunday, and vrhen she re turned that night I knew that I loved her. How lonesome I had been that day without her.' The next night she invited me to the parlor to engage . her in a game of so cial "seven-up." We had a pleasant time, and hardly before the hour to go to my room. I stopped the game, grasped her pretty hand and told her my feeling's. I bowed my head to kiss her hand, but she pulled it back, said "No, no," and bade mo good night. I said to her the next .morning, "Miss 'Fannie, excuse me last night I couldn't help it, though. Let it pass and think.no more of it. but I do' "Mr. Cobb, won't you leave? Oo otT and think no more of It, and let me forget you. It will be better, as nothing else can come of it. Leave and let me forget you." " j Sadly I told her farewell Sunday morning and walked oft down the road, again in my aimless wandering. When a half mile away I heard someone coming up behind me on a horse. I went to the side of the road to let it pass. But when the horse came up it stopped and as I looked around, ' Miss Fannie ran into my arms. "Come on back! You must not leave me! You cannot! The future looks empty without you." - i Tears of joy came to my eyes, and I bent my head over on hers. I kissed her, said, ""God bless my angel," and kissed her " again. The horse she rode, seeing it was forgotten, turned and followed us home. ' A hungry-looking "razor-back" sow with thirteen young pigs, rooting in the dirt and rocks nearby made an unusual lot 'of noise, and I raised up and found myself still lying on the mossy place by the spring. I had lain there and imagined I would figure in a romance something like the above. If the hogs had allowed me to finish the plot I Imagine it would have wound up by me becoming owner of the farm and mill, and several oil wells. I washed my face In the cool blue water, smoothed over my hair and went with some anxiety to the Buchan an home on the ridge. There, was no sweet girl Fannie, nor even a Mrs. Buchanan the old man kept "bach" on a small gully washed farm.: But I went In, ate a dinner of beans and bacon, and went on off down the pike, very seriously thinking. HELEN KELLER'S HAND. Piaster Cast of. It In Collection of bw ranee Button. Mr. Lawrence Hutton is making a collection of plaster casts of hands, says a Trenton special in the New York Sun. He already has about fif teen specimens.'.. He brought back with him from Europe recently the original cast of the hand of Thomas Carlyle, which he picked up in a London shop for a trifling sum. Among others in the collection are likenesses of the haads of Rossetti, Robert Louis- Ste venson, Lincoln and Thackeray, and the mummified hands of an Egyptian princess of the time of Moses. These ' Mr. Hutton has hanging on the walls of his library. He also has a cast of the hand of Helen Keller, the wonder ful blind mute, which he regards very highly on account of its artistic finish. All the lines in the skin, and even the little nerve cushions on the tips of her fingers, with which she feels so accu-I rately, are plainly discernible in the ' plaster. Beneath each case Mr. Hut-1 ton has written some appropriate lines. Beneath that of Miss Keller's hand Is the following: "She is deaf to sounds all about us; What she sees we cannot understand; But her sight's at the tip of her fingers And she hears through the touch of her hands." After Hosting. "Bishop," said the young preacher, "I know you were hitting at me when yon denounced fine apparel and Jew elry, for I wear a velvet vest and a watch and chain." ' "No, brother.' re plied the bishop, with a twinkle in his eye, "for I half suspect your vest is cotton velvet, and. as for the watch. I never- gave you credit for more than a Waterbury!" Atlanta Constitution. A Soggoatloa. , Mrs. Hauskeep The dishes you have put on the table of late. Bridget, have been positively, dirty. Now.somethlng'a got to be done about it- Bridget Yls, mum; av ye only, had dark-colored wans, mam. they wouldn't show the dirt at all. Philadelphia Press. I ret. Baboony Me boy. you- look as It you had Just stepped out of a fashion plate. Crinkleton That .so? I knew I had rheumatism, but I didn't trap pose I was as stiff as that! Harldm Life- . MISLEADING FIGURES HAVEMEYER LITERARY BUREAU GET TING IN ITS WORK. Crmttr Attempt of th Trust Maa-nato to Prmat Taeta Soaring Coos thai Quutloa f Protection for tits Dona tio Sogar Industry. No. 91 Wall Street. New York. October 1. 1801. Dear Sir: As a good deal has recently appeared in print regarding the consumption of sugar in this country, the various sources from which It is ob tained, the amount of duty paid thereon, etc. the following facts and figures will, we believe, be of interest to your Yead ers: The total consumption of sugar- tn. the United States last year was 1.219.847 tons, and, based on the average Increase of .S4 per cent during the past 19 years, the consumption this year should be 2.360.585 tons. Of this quantity 1.000.000 tons in round figures will come from American sources, say. Louisiana being able to pro duce 350.000 tons. United States beet fac tories 150,000, Hawaii 350.000 and Porto Rico 150,000. all being free of duty, leav ing 1,360,585 tons to come from other sources and on which duty Is paid. The average duty assessed Is 336 per ton. or a total of 348.981.060. The price of all the sugar consumed, however, being en hanced to the extent of the duty of 336 per ton. or a total of 384.981.060. it is evi dent that t-:.000.000 additional Is paid by the people in order to provide the gov ernment with 49 millions for revenue, of which the government is not now in need. If the duty is taken oft Cuba sugar the benefit of 85 millions goes to the peo ple. . On October 8 'the quotation for Cuba centrifugal sugar. 96 degrees test, free on board Cuba, was 1.96 cents oer round: duty on same amounts to 1.685 cents equivalent to 86 per cent ad valorem. Yours truly. . - WILLETT A GRAY, Sugar Statisticians. Publishers of the "Weekly Statistical Sugar Trade Journal." Judging by the liberal space given by numerous newspapers to the mis leading circular issued by the statis ticians of the Sugar Trust, it seems possible to deceive all the people all the time, " although Mr. Lincoln thought otherwise. Not many years ago Willett & Gray in their sugar trade paper were earnest advocates o the tariff on sugar and the . develop ment of the beet sugar industry in the United States. Now they appear be fore the public as sponsors of a most UNCLE SAM'S THANKSGIVING BILL OF FARE. - " .' ... T!:.;::iu' ' ;-. remarkable collection of figures, evi dently designed to impress the people of the nation that they are being robbed by the duty on raw sugar, and it is obviously hoped that con stituents will instruct their represen tatives In congress to remove the ob jectionable duty. . Starting with the proposition that the people pay the full duty, not only on imported sugar, but all produced in this country, it is shown that in order to secure less than $49,000,000. of rev enue the consumers are mulcted to the extent of about $85,000,000. In other words, domestic beet and cane growers receive $36 a ton as a bonus, and the home crop for the current year is placed at a million tons. To any one familiar with the facts this gross exaggeration as to the domestic crop would stamp the circular as un worthy of attention. Of Louisiana cane the yield is placed at a new high record of 350,000 tons, and the Hawa iian output, as much more, which is even more of a stretch, while both Porto Rico cane and the United States beet crops are suddenly enlarged by nearly 100 per cent. The total consumption of the coun try is placed at 140,000 tons more than the high record last year, an estimate that is not indorsed by the recognised shortage of fruit, which must 'seri ously curtail the amount used In pre serving. But the allowance of only $48,981,060 revenue to the government Is perhaps the most absurd feature of this collection of absurdities. For the last three years the tariff on sugar has yielded an annual return of over $60,000,000. and even if there was no other consideration, this - enormous source of Income could not be surren dered by the nation without ' some equivalent Increase. A glance at the deficit during the operation of the Wilson bill will convince thinking men that the addition of $262,000,000 to the nation's bonded debt at that time would have been avoided If sugar had continued paying its share of the running expenses. . "Remove duty and the whole $84, 981,060 accrue to the 'public." says this defender' of the people. If any one is tempted by this sophistry he Is referred to the records of sngar quo tations recently ruling and those pre vailing; during the unfortunate years of free sugar. Muscovado fair- refining averaged a quarter of. a cent lower in those gloomy days-than at present, and the difference1 on -refined was a shade more. This is not the "1.685 cents"- quoted in the circular. More over., it must not be overlooked that the whole range of prices was much lower in the dark days of free trade, owing to idle mills and unemployed workmen who could 111 afford to have sugar in their tea ' or coffee. There was no such demand as at present and consequently prices would have been lower, irrespective . of the-tariff. When such a. mendacious collection of misinformation is widely distribut ed it is natural that the reader should seek the reason for its existence. The quest is not difficult. Within a short time the. beet , sugar producers have begun to 'seek markets beyond the im mediate vicinity - of the refineries. This has brought them into competi tion with the large eastern refineries of imported raw sugar, and the result has been lower prices to consumers and less profit for the American Sugar Refining Company and the large in dependent plants. Since beet growing is still in its infancy and would com pete with the bounty supported prod uct of the - old world, removal of the tariff would retard its development and perhaps completely annihilate an industry in . which millions are invested and thousands find employ ment. Has not the history of steel making, tin plate manufacture, tex tile spinning, - etc, been such as to emphasize the wisdom of helping the growth of another' national industry? That low prices will follow has been proved in all the other industries, and recent price cutting at Missouri River points show that beet sugar growers are already cheapening - the cost to consumers, though the domestic yield is but a fraction of the total consump tion. If in the course of time it can become possible to keep at home the $100,000,000 annually sent abroad to pay for sugar, no one questions the desirability of attaining that end. Perhaps the most unreasonable sug gestion of the lot Is that the people would secure the benefit of the rev enue lost to the government. If the large refiners could secure all the raw material from abroad and had no com petition from home producers there would be no limit to the prices they might charge, unless the duty was also removed from refined sugar, but for. most obvious reasons this idea Is not advocated. If the domestic grow ers are to be driven out of-business why not go a step further and abolish the refineries, so that all foreign re finers might compete in this, market? Cheapness might then be attained, but the keen business man knows that cheapness is not the first desideratum. .Snomla Hot Bo Porgotton. Our foreign trade both in imports and exports is quite satisfactory, and while we are congratulating the coun try on its great trade expansion. It must not be forgotten that all this is being accomplished under the opera tions' of the protective tariff laws so much ' denounced and abused by the free traders, Allentown (Pa.) Regis ter. , Veritable Babol or Bases. The Russian- empire contains more than sixty-five independent racial groups. . it Is a veritable Tower of Ba bel- Even , with the omission Siberia V , . T 7Z -' , , i and Central Asia there remain In Rua- s la. In Europe and the Cauoaaus, alone 46 diffarent peoples. CHARCOAL BURNEKS. SUBSTITUTES RENDERING THE BUSI NESS A LOST ARTi Gas and . Gasoline Bavo Almost Dis plaooa. Charroal as a Hekt- Producing Sabstanee Tbe Man Who Barns Char- Leads a Gypsy Ufa. Charcoal burning , in the United States, so far as the product concerns the cities, gives promise of becoming a lost art. Gas and gasoline have almost displaced it as a heat-producing sub stance. With the thinning of the for ests, too, the source of supply is cut Yet In the woods of Michigan, Wisconsin.- Ohio and Pennsylvania, a com paratively few follow the lonely' life. Charcoal in its , perfect state is a baked., not a burnt wood. Here is the distinction, that keeps the charcoal burner awake sometimes from 48 to 60 hours at a stretch, especially if he be alone. For the baking of charcoal the wood is piled, in a circle about a central pit, leaving -interstices through which the heat from the fire burning in the center may circulate to the outer edge of the pile. Turf is piled over all until the pile resembles a volcano. It is the object to keep the wood covered until it cannot break into a blaze. ' High winds are troublesome. The sign of trouble in a kiln is a thin blue smoke that points to fire in the wood. - This fire is put out by smothering from the outside. Only experience teaches when the charcoal is sufficiently baked. When this period is reached it has lost about three-fourths of its weight. An old observation is to the effect that "ten horses will draw the wood and three horses will draw the charcoal away." The slower the wood has baked the more substance and weight will be in the coals. When the pyre has burn ed sufficiently the fire is put out by drenching the heap with water. Even after hundreds of gallons have been poured through the heap, it may take three days for it to cool sufficiently for , the charcoal to be removed. A kiln will " produce 200 to 250 bushels of the coals. The charcoal burner leads a - gypsy, life. His cabin is near by the kilns. ' find in it is the picturesque disorder that is natural to man in the .woods. -His kitchen utensils are most in evi- . dence. His bed is wholly secondary. He eats to live and lives to work with only an occasional "spree" in some nearby town. In the woods sobriety is everything to his craft. He is a won der to the visitors, as he plunges into thick smoke and heat, and works in the choking fumes with the fortitude of a salamander. When the kiln is working best the smoke and fumes are worst, and to keep tne kilns so necessi tates the constant attention of the burner. These fumes are considered detrimental to health under ordinary circumstances, but the compensating life in the woods seems to make the ' eharcoal burner a hardy specimen of his race. Utica Globe. The Care of Children. When it is a possible thing, have a separate bed "for every child, even though there are 1 wo beds in a room. This is by no . means an expensive matter. Good legu can be turned or made at home and supplied with casters. Fasten these onto woven wire springs, and over them fasten a good mattress of curled hair or moss. Make a cover of heavy un bleached muslin to protect the mat tress, and then make it up as you would any bed. A pretty outer cover or spread made of art denim, linen " or other suitable material, made with a flounce reaching to the floor, will convert this bed. into an attractive divan if the room is needed during the day. A nice bath is very refresh ing just before bdtime, and is usually productive of quiet sleep. It . means considerable work for the busy mother of several children, but It generally pays in the end. Two Sufficient Reasons. The senior partner dfd not make his ' appearance at ths office until about 2 o'clock, and then the junior partner was not there. "Where is Mr. Tenter hook?" he asked of the bookkeeper. "He left the office a while ago, sir," replied the man of daybook and ledg er, "and he said he wouldn't be back today." "I hope nothing is the mat ter with him," the senior partner add ed. "I'm 'afraid he isn't very well, for he complained of a pain in his stomach yesterday." "Well," the bookkeeper explained,' "he 'said something about having eaten some fish at lunch that didn't agree with him, and he added that there was a football game this afternoon that he wanted to see, any how." Pittsburg Commercial-Gazette. Trne to Her Colors. Now, the Eminent Reformer and the Emancipated Woman were about to be wedded. In fact, the ceremony was be ing performed. "With this ring," said the Eminent Reformer, "I thee wed." Here there was a breathless hush over the audience as the Emancipated Wom an made a gesture of dissent, and ex- ! claimed: -"And this, after your cam j paign against ring rule? Never!" Say- Ing which she swept out of the church. I The audience was divided In its sur- prise over the injection of politics into matrimony and the sight of an Eman cipated Woman sweeping. Baltimore American. ' ' Infantile Prion. "Pooh! My papa ; wears evenin" clothes every time he goes to parties." "That ain't anythia. Our minister j wears his Fight clothes every t'tie he preaches." Cleveland Plain Dealer. . I The church Is not a clearing hou for credulity.