Evening star. [volume], December 27, 1902, Page 25, Image 25

About Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972

Image provided by: Library of Congress, Washington, DC

                
MARM lIZE't
(Copyright, 19o2,
"Jove! isn't it hot? I say, don't you wish
you could see a real old-fashioned New
Er.gland snowbank just now?"
"No, I don't!"
The answer was sharp, blunt, explosive;
It might have been offensively so, if the
'cat had not tempered one's quarrelsome
ness. As it was 1 looked in lazy amaze
mnent at Roberts, stretched in his hammock.
"What had I said? What was there in my
ar.nrent, if slightly inane, suggestion to
provoke such an outburst?
"What's that for, old man?" I inquired at
length.
"What's what for?"
"That rough, touch-me-if-you-dare way of
gnswering a simple question.
"W-h-y." he began in a hesitating sort of
fashion. "I didn't know that there was
ar,ything out of the usual in the way I
spok.". I suppose that I must have been
IWiuking of something else, and spoke out
"SO YO'S TI'ED AT S I
'Without realizing what I said or how I
laid it."
He was lying, of course. I knew it, and
be knew that I knew it. There was some
Strong, cogent reason back of that "No!"
which shot it out like a bullet from a rifle.
But if he didn't choose to give it to me, I
Couldn't exactly fprce it from him. One
can't well light his friend for a mere mat
ter of accent-particularly when that friend
is the only white man within a hundred
tilles.
But though closed, the incident lingered
jt my mind. I found it curiously impossible
forget it. It was not that I was hurt or
Offended at the curt reply to my question;
mny feeling was entirely impersonal-simply
a strong curiosity as to what it was that
C ompted such a reply. It came back to
e again and again, and there was the
tone of a mocking demon in it, saying ever:
"Don't you wish you knew the riddle?" I
thought of it in the night; I thought of it
enany times during the monotonous march
giext (day. I began to be irritated by its
geiteration and persistency. "Curse it!" I
said, angrily, "I won't think of it again; it's
sheerest idiocy!" But there was that little
demon, see-sawing back and forth with his
Sfernal question:" "Don't you wish you
ew? Don't you wish you knew?"
I thought back over Roberts' life-what I
Rnew of it personally and what he had told
Sneftr a possible clue. We had grown up
together in a pleasint little southern town
Wh'blh now wears a spruce dignity as a
thrivling city. After the college period we
bad drifted apart, he into the law and I
into medicine, nndl( had lost sight of each
Other. An infrequent letter .or a casual
snention by mutual ac(iuaintances had kept
ils informed in general as to each other's
course and career, but we hedn't met since
school days until a month ago. Long treat
Enent of other folks' nerves had somewhat
*hattered my own, and I was takIng an ex
tendled vacation in a journey around the
'World. Imagine my delight to run across
Itoberts out in that fascinating region "east
of Suez. where the best is like the worst,
Where there aIn't no Ten Commandments,
an a man can raise a thirst."
He had come from nowhere In particular;
1Was going nowhere in particular; simply
bmitating a certain discreditable personage
snentioned in the Book of Job in "going to
end fro in the earth, and walking up and
down in it." That beIng the case, wouldn't
he join me in a trip I was projecting across
the Arabian peninsula, with horses and
gulde?s, from Aden to Basmorab, at the head
pfthe Persian gulf? Yes, he would, and
hdid.
So there you have us. Nothing remains
to be said In this connection except the little
that Roberta told me about his life since our
eparat!on. He had studied law and prac
iced for a time with success in his native
town: but, comning into a large fortune-bow
~did n't say-he had given up work and
passed years In the gentle and delight
fui vagabondage possible only to those who
are long of purse and short of family re
sponsibilities and obdigations. He had never
~rried: his parents were long since dead;
ha - been an only child: even of uncles,
unsand cousins, with which every prop
erly constituted southern family is abun
dantly supplied, he had none. He was curi
ously, almost pathetically, alone in the
'World.
"I verily believe," he said one day with a
reetive smile. "that there Is not a single
uman being with one drop of my blood in
isveins. 'ILetat, c'est mol.' I am the Rob
fystree, root, trunk. branch and topmost
ea.When the Great Woodsman gets his
tWork in on me, there will not be so much
aa twig left." To my remark about the
aitnetion of solitude, he answered, without
smile this time, "It may he distinguished,
t it' s a, bit lonesome at times-Just a bit
It was the evening of the second day after
Rtoberts himself referred to the mat
. ehad made eamp. ean our dinner-,
ed were now lying in our hamian.s
demoking throegh the brief eatern twilight.
"About that sn=plah answer of mine, the
Other night," he began. h=ela=tg,
"What emaapish answer?' I asked, In a
fuie pretense of Igneranes and - hs
asreally surprisedt seomehow 1 felt
the begtinming that uat or at we
sdu me to am n umuau ai the
- e Uof weu put np,but It Womt
Yoeuknow wellm~ wetim.
thiMi et It eve ge
tedensOd yain hemt" 'I am
buty esaght ofmy sor-in my
ps .sM1r.u.....'a
lbs Wilig in S e godh
".COM1[BRl"
by J. K. Wilson.)
wl
beet a question mark for the last two -dayi
Of course it must have seemed strange t
have me speak as I did in answer to you
Innocent question, and you couldn't hel:
wondering why I did it. Are you in th
mood for a strange story?' he continued
with a sudden change of manner. "I mus
tell it to somebody and you're the only on
I know who'd care a rap about it, or abou
me. But I warn you in advance that it wi]
be a strange one."
"My dear fellow, in twenty years of doc
toring one is apt to hear many a strang
story."
"But you'll find it hard to believe."
"I've heard a good many things that
didn't believe, which, nevertheless migb
have been true, so far as I know. Fir
away, if you like. I promise at least a:
attentive hearing to anything you may hav
to say."
"Here goes, then. In the first place, d
you remember Marm Lize, my black mam
my in the old days?'
"Sure; and how we youngsters used t
|EIN' OL' MAMMY'S BEACK FACE
hate her, and pretend to tease you. to
make her swear and threaten us with no
end of ills. Queer old bunch she was."
"You're right; queer enough. But sh
was devoted to our family, and to me ii
particular. You know-or perhaps yoi
don't-that she was one of my father'
slaves before the war. When the rest tool
their liberty and left, she came right Int
the 'big house' and declared that 'Linkur
or no Linkum, she b'longed to Mars' Henr:
an' Mis' Em'ly, and she was gwine to sta:
wid dem.' And stay she did. My fathe
was killed in battle a month before I wa
born; and in those trying days I suppos
that my mother would have died, too, if I
had not been for Marm Lize. She was ev
erything; servant, cook, laundress, nursE
doctor and companion. Her courage neve
failed and her spirits never flagged. Fror
my birth I was her idol. No sacrifice wa
too great to give me pleasure, and no to]
too Irksome if by it she could serve me.
verily believe that she lov'ed me better thai
my own mother did. But somehow I neve
liked her. I was always afraid of her, ani
instinctively, even in childhood, I recoile
from her. As I grew older that feeling in
creased, until her very 'presence was in
tensely hateful to me. I fought against i
under the consciousness of my obligatioi
to her, but there it was. I couldn't get rid
of it."
"Know just how you felt." I broke in;
felt the same way myself. There was some
thing weird and uncanny about her; un
wholesome-that's the word I want."
"Yes," he assented, "that's a good word
for it. An unwholesome influence seeme<
to go out from her in some way. I fount
as I grew older that her own people. wer,
afraid of her, on account of her power t<
'conjer' them."
"To what?"
"Conjer, or conjure; bewitch. They con
sidered her a witch, a hoodoo doctor. Nos
I suppose that you don't believe in any
thing of that sort?"
"Well, hardly," I laughed; "neither de
you, or any other sensible man,"
"Don't be too sure of that. There was
time when I didn't; when I laughed at th,
whole thing, just as you are now doing
But now-"
"But, man alive-" I began.
"Never mind; let the argument go fo:
now, and let me get on with my story. A
I was saying, this feeling of repugnance, o
aversion, for Marm Lize increased as I grei
older, while, on the other hand, her affec
tion for and pride in me apparently in
creased also. My mother's death seemed ti
make cloeer than ever our reatiotn to eal
other. I was 'her onilies' chile, and she was
my onlies' mammy,' she was fond of sa.yna
After I finished college and began the prac
tie of law I broke up my home and tool
bachelor's quarters, fully as anuch to ge
rid of Marn Lize as for anything else.
bought a little house for her in the negri
quarter, settled an amount upon her suf
ficient to satisfy her every want, and con
gratulated myself that I was at last tre
from her uncanny companionship. But
didn't know her. Never a day passed bu
she appeared at the door of my office witl
her smile and her Inquiry, "How's mj
honey dis fine mornin' 1" It matter.e" no
who was there, or what I was doing. Ii
came Marm Lize-even into my private of
fice, if I were not in the outer room, Ajgaia
and again I told her that I was busy, and
that she must not disturb me; but it made
no diference; next day thtere se was. On
day the ellmax came, and in sadens ange
I told her to get out and stay out; that:
didn't want her around; that I wished ta
heaven I might never see her ugly blael
face aain as long as I lived! There's grati
tude for you. coos e'ng all that she hai
done for me and mine!"
"A tridle ungratefuL. It must be admitted,'
said I meditatively; "but.eaminentlr naturaJ
Think I should have said the -ameo thini
myself, under the cIrnse= a. What
did the old hag say?"
"Nothing for a full minute, She 'Masla
stood and looked at-ame as If she were try.
ing to take It In. And I esa teR you la thal
minute I saw myself asseverattis an
var'ieties of tM.gs Abut emesp and e
and are mesa and Novdewagnstly. Urn
it was too 1ate; the-weed m:gos et
Then she begams te w k.at Siut - a alew
thering fast maUl Ji
ike a wintes'a ml a-: jr asdFd.4
seein* al' =magegir'sem e he
homey? 'ssmW,y M tok WV *em4d
ten'. Jaas whem y.n wa be'n; mmmy,
sreuse yer to sen h nem hie. frg
aa" a-mn a A1m t ha
her mles t
libi Well -wel. -, ' J'" ,
hab sV1Wash. Yes abr fy de W
dat yo mak-oen'T 'et ne '01,t e,
be! hs r she i ease. r l air
whatebber. y like, bame 'W bsatt
ome, 'Ces why? 'Com e eai{SJ get 7P*
heme; d snjer's got 70. Oh, W as 7V
wan, nebber fear; it's swine t' gi4 70
ebbery wash ys mabs ' s n en. 70'
needn't wssh to sit rid ob de eenjer, ed
ye' cyant do It. Cyand shk it eU asew.
It stays whar it's put. Hot ho! Wash
sway. honey! Dar'il be samabody else a
wushin' one ob dese days. an' deyil git dar
wush, too. Good-bye, honey; yo'se a-gwine
to git yo' wush. Toll nebber me or Marm
Lise's ugly brack face ag'in as_long as yO'
lib; as long as yo' lib-min' dat! Rechon
yo' will after yo' die. do.' Marm iUse kin
wash, too; and she's bon' to git her wash.
Good-bye. Ho! ho!' And with a laugh like
the wall of a lost soul, she was gone."
"Cheerful, 'pon my word!' I suppose she
was back the next day, though?'
"I never saw her again."
"Well, you had a good and cheap rid
dance."
"I'm not so sure of that," he said in a
low tone, as though speaking to himself
rather than to me.
"Not so sure of it? Why not?"
"You forget her partifig gift?"
"Fred Roberts!" I sat bolt upright in my
hammock in very amazement. "You don't
mean to tell me that you take any stock in
that old hag's hoodoo nonsense!"
"What if I should tell you, Jim, that I
not only believe in the fact of the hoodoo,
on 'conjur,' as Marm Lise called it, but
that I know it by actual personal experi
ence?"
"Why, man! you're crazy as a loon! The
- thing is impossible!"
"It may be that I am crazy; I've thought
so at times. But it's a life-long craziness, I
fear. As for the impossibility of the thing,
[ does . occur to you that there are many
t ohther things which have been pronounced
e impossible, but which have yet proved to
i be realities?"
e But I had reached tae limits of debate; I
had no word in reply.
"Let me go on with my story," pursued
Roberts, in even, unimpassioned tones, as
though he were relating something in which
he had no Lirect personal interest. "My
IS YO' HONEY?"
first though. when Marm Lize was gone
was one of satisfacuon at being rid of her.
I wasn't entirely proud of the way I had
acted in the matter; I had sense enough to
know that I had proved ungrateful to a wo
man who, whatever her faults, had ever
been a good friend to me and mine. But
the relief from contact with her horrible
personality was stronger than any other
feeling.
"As for the 'conjer,' I inought no more of
it than you do now, and would have laugh
ed at any one credulous enough to believe
in it, as you are laughing at me now. In
fact, I entirely forgot it, and it was more
t than a month before I thought of it again.
"Then one day I was sitting in my office
with nothing to do, and no prospect of any
.thing. Everything was fearfully dull, and
I was more than a little down at the mouth.
Looking out o, my east window I could
see the roofs of the Warren-Estabrook
corporation. Think they came to town
after you left, didn't they? Yes? Well,
they are a big iron concern with ramifica
tions all over the south, and with a great
deal of important and remunerative legal
. work, of course. White & Robinson had
.gathered moet of it in, however, leaving
only the barest pickings to the rest of us.
"Sitting in my offBee that day I said, idly.
to myself: 'Wish I had the business of
that concern in my hands.' Immediately I
was conscious of a singular sensation some
. where Inside of me. I distinctly heard a
sound somewhere between the 'chug' of a
steam exhaust and the 'click' of a register
Sing machine. With It was a feeling as of
something being roiled up, or taken away,
leaving me smaller somehow than before. I
couldn't In the least tell whether it was In
my head or my heart or my lungs, or
where it was: it wras inside of me,- that was
all I knew. No. I knew something else, too.
although I didn't know how I knew It. I
knew that my Idle wish was to be granted.
A few moments later a messenger from
Warren Estabrook summoned me to a con
ference with the heads of the concern,
which resulted in my becoming chief legal
adviser of a firm worth millions."
"Pshawl Nothing strange about that.
Such things are happening every day, You
were a rising young lawyer who had at
tracted the attention of men who wanted
a hustler for attorney; that's all. As for
the peculiar bodily sensation, why, an ex
tra piece of pie or a slice of underdone
pork will play the mischief with a fellow'.
insides sometimes, and make him think he's
all sorts of kinds of machines and thing.''
"Yes, that's the way I explained it to -my
self at the time, for I give you my word
that no thought of Marm LUne's 'conjer'
crossed my mind. But some time after I
was searching for a certain decision which
was vitally Important in a case whleh-the
company had on trial. I knew that it was
Sn a book in my library, hut, though I hunt
[ ed for houra, I could not find it. The time
I was short; I must have that decision, or
my kingpin was gone. 'Hang It all!' I ex
claimed, in veaeton, 'I wish "I knew where
the thing Is!'
[ "Scarcely were the words out of my
mouth, when I was conscious of that curl
oe sensation again, this time aoeompanied
with a slight distress, or sense of constric
tion, and I saw clearly the name of the
book, the number of the page, and the
place of the volume on the shelf. I took
down the book, opened to the designated
page, and there was the~decision for which
I had vainly searched half a hundred yea
umes. It was then that I rememered
Marm Line's prediction that I should haye
eeywish granted. Do yon wonder that I
"Humph! Decidedly queer, it must be
confessed, but not neses.s'rily convicig
Probaly amere coineidenee.''o -
cease to be coincidences add become the
manifestation of law. One the thought
was in my mind, of course I had to verify
or disprove it by experiment. This I at
**empted in larsen ways to do. I will not
wry you with details' it is enough to say
that:eiey wish 3 ezpe... came anunei
ately er seen after to enhlenat, and that
In ha sei. w astd uls-e
miin
a hstly fight, i+ i everyt g in os
fistoni beMad her, Oinslbn=
you we>t may?"
Bat- that I "Go on witl
your atinsy: 'A
"I 1ished that I t be rich. . Bets
might I received trem new Turk rte. an.
e?er of ,Oem ai autgsoCk that
I had In itea from my tobw. and had
held simply benss.I -suldn't get rid of it.
Dldnt suppose it was worth a -doiiar. or
ever would be. Oc edi-ot rim at
the first east, and e Ideared up a
cool million from it. Ne:t day a cablegram
from London announeed the death of a
great-uncle whom I d ever seen, and
who might have e a seere of
years. for all I knew contrary, Ieav
4ng me sole heir, to , amounting
to more than I dare tell you, or than you
would easily believe."
-"Jiminy! This is getting Interesting! Any
more Marm Likes around with ther uncaa
ny but lucrative prediciions? Give them a
steer in my direction it there are. I'd like
to get a rise of that sort out of them.".
"Would you take It at the price?" he
asked, in the strangely, dead. dull voice
which had characterized his recital. "Well,
these instances simply illustrate the his
tory. I wished for success In the law; and
I won every case I tried, even against the
most overwhelming odds of law and evi
dence and opposing talent. I became fa
mous throughout that whole region. More
business was thrust upon me than I could
possible handle. I took a partner, then an
other: still the same unvarying story. At
last, In weariness and disgust at a success
which- was not the fruit of my own lawful
striving, but simply the gift- of a dead
black woman whose very memory I loath
ed, I threw up my practice, turned every
thing over to my partners, and cleared out.
Since then I have been a tramp, of a little
higher order than the ordinary hobo, per
haps, but like him, following ever upon the
heels of a vagrant fancy."
"And does this Aladdin-like power of get
ting what you wish for continue?"
"Yes, I suppose-I am afraid so. It is a
lang time since I have tried It, though.
Each new wish wrenched me more than
the last had done. and I was eonscious each
time more sensibly of giving up something
of life In it. So I have cultivated the habit
of not wishing for anything at all, and
have attained -in some measure to that
state of stolid animal content, of which my
friend, the ox, is a conspicuous example.
That is the reason for my abrupt answer
the other night. Much as I might desire
that snowdrift. I couldn't afford to wish for
it; and my harshness was not toward your
query, but toward my own stirring but as
yet unspoken thought. But I know, I feel
that I have but to wish for that snowdrift
to see it lying just there in the moonlight
before us.
"Jim-there was no lack of ppassion in
his voice now; he had risen from -his ham
mock, and was standing before me, his face"
working In the agony of a deadly earnest
nese-"Jim, I have told you tonight what
no one else on earth knows. You don't
believe my story; how can you? You think
I am crazy; perhaps I am. But as- God
lives, I have told you the truth as I see
it and know it. These things are real to
me. Are they real, Jim? , Are they real?
I want to find out; I must-I will prove
this thing.
"I have been thinking It over since the
other night. Perhaps we were brought to
gether for this very purpose. You are a
physician, and have given your life to the
study of mental ahd nervous diseases and
disorders. If this is simply a matter of
nerve or brain you ought to be able to de
tect It.
"Jim, I'm going to Wish -for that snow
drift. There can be' no deception, can
there? See how clear th# sky is. And
how hot it is. It never .si(bws in this re
gion; those men yonder dtn't know what
snow is. Come, Jim, let's put this to the
proof for good and a,lt. ' -ay your head
here against my breat and listen while I
utter the wish, and tell ate whether you
can hear anything lilke w4at I have told
you of."
Now, I hadn't bellered' a word of this
weird story, of course. It had greatly per
plexed me. Roberts had spoken sahely and
rationally. His wholey coarse throughout
our journey had proved* hitaea man of poise,
holding himself well is lia*d, cool and de
liberate in every emergency; the very last
man to suggest the need, Qf the attention
or treatment of an aftenisti He evidently
believed the story he to there was a
tone of conviction thag st ed all doubt on
that .point. A .lie has a oeof- Its o.wp;
so has truth. But while I elieved that
Roberts believed this strange story,. of
course I did not believe it for a moment.
It was absurd, impossible, from. beginning
to end. But, singularly: enough, when the
opportunity was thus given me to prove
that It was all an hallucination, and- to de
liver my friend from the bondage of his
fear, I was loath to attempt it. I shrank
from the proposed test with a curious, un
reasoning dread. Not even my professional
interest in the case was sufficient to over
come my Instinctive horror at that un
canny experiment out there on the Ara
bian desert.
To my suggestions of delay Roberts an
swered impetuously:
"No, let's have it over now. The moon
light is bright enough for our purpose; the
camp is more quiet than it would be in day
light; the conditions could not be more .fa
vorable."
Since I could not refuse without betraying
my fear, and therefore a belief in the possi
ble existence of the "conjer," I was obliged
to consent, although reluctantly.
Standing erect, Roberts said slowly and
distinctly:
"I wish that I could see a snowdrift over
yonder beyond the horses."
As he ceased, with my ear pressed close
against his bared bosom, I distinctly heard
somewhere inside of him a "whirr," as of a
clock running down, and a "click," as
though some kind of a registering machine
were at work. Rut, physician though I
am. I could niot for the life of me have
told In what part of the- body the sound
was, nor what could possibly have pro
duiced it. But I had no time to think of
that, then, for, with a low moan of agony,
Roberts slipped away from me and fell to
the ground, apparently lifeless. Only for
a moment, however. Recovering himself
bef6re I had time to' apply restoratives, he
sat up a-nd, looking toward the horses, said
simply:
"Look!"
There on the moonlit sands gleamed
something long and white. Quickly I
walked over to it; thrust my hand Into it;
sifted It through my fingers-'t was snow.
In that depressed valley of the -Arabian
peninsula, where frost is an unknown
thing, lay a snowdrift a foot or more in
depth, and a dozen feet in length!
"Well, Jim," said Roberts, as I returned
slowly to the tents, "what was it?"
"Snow.''
"Then you believe"
"Oh, man, don't ask me what I believe
now! Give me time to tMink! My brain is
In a whirl! It's too horrible'-I mean-it's
imposslibe-Fred, I don't know what I
man. I must sleep on ihis. Let us go to
bed now, and talk this thing over in the
morning."
"Very welt, old man,"' and there was a
lingering, wistful cadence in his voice that
I shall -always remember; "very well. Go
to bed now; I've kept jop up too long al-'
ready. 'Thank you fos,yogr:-atlenee with
my prosy story, and tJhan17 you-, too, for
helping me In my experngat tonight. I
know now that it is no-rea of mine; that
it.s real. MaroaLine's f ar' has got me.
sure enough, for time endidoe eternity. I
am having lay wish nm:1fqgr that I ought'
to be grateful to her, jA upos But She
will have her 'wish whou I die; and I know
?twell that that wish wgbe to have me
. hher forever and ever. Seand 1 are
Inseparably linked te .h Parted here
by my ImpatiencS we aoU trwls
in the lond roa -that ~s'g sbeyond
.the gates -sideath.Ca' that I relish .
the prospect much," he, ~ludwIth a
pitiful smile, "hut it'%.f. e to sem-|
peain. It. is writteg n4 -ek of the
gods and so It will be.. iN~t! But go to
bed; Jiw; t to bed... ~ Jh,and-God
hiem yout" , : d
To bsd, but nt to sleep. Houg after.
hour I lay with wide spes wresb' steasing
this- harribte sngstery 1gas tacenR -Aly
intellngent bein ve =an=t Ut to : d
ease It. aSn ,4mMl nt res. -It wal
easy to -proes it asEMnse
"esphi and h tma* 6b ==w
bon. There -wa ab ui1y. se eumnd
wansae,s getst as L4e
.ag. What as stit e ha i " ms:
ese Es en la the et y wlth bea
in~g habema
At the et I amsat have nAd. s a s ai
_uiet seep, for I iSrd aff the -ae
at the &=aaamap, and it wear, iod
iosd .saUht wphen Tusuf a to eMR
Am to' breMd As I drew heck thet
curt a a note pined to the ea .lasst
ted to the go&nd. It ws frnm"beats,
Saneh w sem -te have en:pected I. al
tough I did not rema 1tt I sar it It
was verr brief, staRmiy the repeuiofe hin
parting 7ers of the night befere: "Good
bye, and God biss- yOul"
No one had aen hin go; even the watch
man was. or pretended to be, in utter Ig
norance when questened on the subeet.
Quietty he had saddled his herse and stoe
away alone; but whether north, south, east
or west the sand of the traveled ecravan
route gave no token and made no sign.
I never saw him again. I never expected
to. With the same unreasoning certainty I
knew that our wa. n parted definitely at the
Ainei-TSbbeya. Months after I had returned
home there came to me one day a Calcutta
paper, bearing an indistingushable post
mart. and .addressed in an entirely unfa
miliar handwriting. Looking it carefully
through, I came upon a single paragraph
surrounded by faintly traced lines, telling of
the sudden and mysterious disappearance
of an English or American gentleman from
one of the up-country stations of the East
Indian service. No names or particulars
were given. It might have been any one
of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of
tourists, omcers on hunting leave, scientists.
explorers, who dot the whole country. But
I know that it was Roberts. Marm Lise's
wish was at last fullled, and her love had
at last its own. But what I don't know is
this-who sent me that marked paper?
THE OPEN FI8$.
The Old-Fashioned Chimney Place as
Means of Heating Homes.
From the Springfield Republican.
The scarcity of anthracite has served to
introduce many people accidentally, but not
unpleasantly, to the luxury, obsolescent in
recent years, of an open fire. The rich still
enjoy the pure superfluity of the blazing
log in a house already raised to 'a summer
tempeiature by steam, but the typical
house among the moderately well-to-do,
who constitute the larger part of the popu
lation, depends entirely upon arid and
cheerless registers. Grates or open fire
places are commorgly put into the more
modern houses, but only for ornament, and
are a concession to fashion. There is many
a careful housewife who would never
dream, except under the compulsion of ne
cessity, of soiling her spick and span tilings
with a blase. In the darkest days of house
building there was even a mania for false
fireplages-sometimes a mere blank section
of tiling with a permanent screen over the
non-existent fire-hole, sometimes a white
marble sepulcher of a fireplace, with ele
gant andirons and no connection whatever
with a chimney. Perhaps such horrors are
no longer perpetrated, but the crux of an
actual test has revealed the painful fact
that the majority of the auxiliary fireplaces
that are put in to meet the mandates of
fashion are as useless as a gift-book or a
secret society tin sword. They are very
well so long as. they are not needed; there
is, indeed, a distinct advantage in a house
already heated unwholesomely by a furnace
in having the fireplace arranged so as to
convey all the heat into the outer air. As
a mere display they are all that' could be
asked, unless they smoke. Unfortunately,
many of them are so dexterously contrived
as to let the heat out and keep the smoke
in.
The truth is that the building of fire
places is a delicate art, and, like other
arts, declines when practiced purely for
purposes of ornament. The .chimney fire is
the most extravagant as well as the most
delightful of all methods of heating, and it
was after the whole field of experiment had
been gone over that Count Rumford and
Benjamin Franklin developed the stove.
The Franklin stove is, indeed, to the pres
ent day the best equivalent for the luxury
of the fireplace, and gives much of its
pleasure at far less cost; there are ola
fashioned families that would be loath to
give it up.
But while the fireplace at its best squan
ders fuel, there is a vast difference between
the "practicable" fireplace of an old-time
house, sternly tested by the austerities of a
New England winter, and the fancy arti
cles that pass muster in a modish modern
domicile. The difference is not greater be
tween a light pleasure yacht and a Glouces
ter schooner, built for any weather. The
true open. fireplace or grate is bu&l to
throw the heat out into the room; its ficti
tious substitute is simply a chimney with a
place for fire at the bottom. The cash is
made worse when the chimney -follows the
fashion of standing on the outside. of the
house, fully exposed to the inclemency of
the weather. One might almost as well
build a bonfire in the dooryard.
Many of the most satisfactory old houses
had the big chimney stuck in the very cen
ter of the house, but this is not essential.
It is essential to good heating, however, to
have the brick pile of the chimney indoors
out of the weather, and the more the fire
place follows the principle of the Franklin
stove the better. With a straight draft
up flame, heat and all go straight up to the
frosty firmament. If the fireplace is brought
well forward into the room and the throat
of the vent is narrowed down and skillfully
twisted, if the grate is so set as to find a
happy mean betwreen too much and too lit
tie draft, and to radiate the heat out into
the room, a mode of heating Is given which
Is entirely practicable even In cold weather,
and only disadvantageous in that It re
quires somewhat more fuel and a good deal
more work than the prosaic and utilitarian
hot-air furnace. The toy fireplace, how
ever, Is a mockery, and In the past week or
two its sins have been brought glaringly to
light.
Humiliated.
From the Chicago Tribune.
"What's the trouble. Henry?" asked his
wife. "Wasn't the majority as large as
you expected?"
"I'm not thinking about the election,
JTess," gloomily replied the statesman whose
admiring constituents had returned him to
Congress for another term. "You remem
ber there is a brand of 5-cent cigars named
foi- me? Well, they're selling them two for
5-cents now."
All Over.
From -Life.
"Did you get as much pleasure out of
your country club as you expected?"
"No; just as I was beginning to have a
good time, my 1wife joined."
WICIIfISIT_0141
8 Oeid G1 bIiee of O.U
D008 BARK AT NIGHT
=OORU2 .AND BaaAS= AND
CA.VED AMnA BCBMEN,
Wondars to 3 S.,at Every t=r
Though Often at the Expense
of Comfort.
Written for The Evening Star.
The first night in Constantinople must of
necessity be a more or less sleepless one,
as it takes that time, at least, to get accus
tomed to the noise of the myriad dogs
which claim the city at night as their own.
A tremendous barking and shrieking and
growling waked us from our first and very
early slumbers, and, rushing to the window
to see what could be the matter, he found
thirty or forty of the most battered veteran
dogs bowling with rage, as a strange dog,
most beautifully beribboned and becurled,
and accompanied by his gentleman master,
passed up the street for an airing.
The noise was simply appalling, and the
stranger wore an embarrassed air as he
glanced first to one side and then to the
other, as if he would say, "Really, gentle
men, you startle me. I cannot think what
I have done to deserve these threats and
curses." The clamor died slowly away as
he and his master, accompanied by the
crowd of meagre, shrieking, howling crea
tures passed slowly down the street. We
were told that it was always so when a
strange dog passed through the. quarters
which the city dogs considered their own:
that the town was divided up by them, and
that no dog from another quarter was al
lowed to approach, but was attacked by the
whole population of that quarter. One
would like to know how the dividing line'
is made and kept.
We were routed out by our zealous courier
Leon at a seasonable hour on the morn
ing of our second day in Constantinople,
and spent all of our time until six In the
evening prowling happily and leisurely
about the beautiful mosques. Although we
usually gave in to the suggestions of Leon,
we, In this instance, boldly and insistently
disregarded -them and refused positively to
take a carriage by the day. The result was
a fatiguing but entirely satisfactory day,
for which, we shall always be grateful. It
la quite necessary to walk across the rick
ety old bridge of Galata, for in driving one
is so absorbed in the noise made by the
loose boards of the bridge, which fly up
and threaten one's life when the wheels
press over them, and so bewildered by the
colors of the varied costumes and annoyed
by the clamor of the beggars, that it is
simply impossible to see the sight as it
should be seen. In walking, the Bedouin,
in his white drapery, and the half-naked
porter, become separate beings; the veiled
ladies, the gaily dressed Turks from the
country and the long-robed students, with
all the other hundred types so often de
scribed, in place of the kaleidoscopic vision
become living, enchanting reality.
The First. Attraction.
The Valideh mosque at the Bera end of
the bridge was our first admiration, and
will always remain our first, for its min
arets are more slender and its carved mar
ble screens more lacy than any we saw
later on. Like the temple of a dream it
seemed until Leon tore us from our happy
musings by pointing to the ceiling, all
carved and inscribed with verses from the
Koran, and said in businesslike tones: "Re
gard that canope, Mesdames; it is very
agrayable not?' After that the dream
faded and we went out into the brilliant
sunshine, past the devout Turks who were
washing hands, feet and lips, at the row of
small stone tanks beside the mosque, past
the attractive looking fruit stalls filled with
deliciously sweet white grapes; along the
city wall, and finally, after a long walk,
but one of immense interest to us, to the
mosque of St. Sofia. The exterior satisfied
us entirely with its fiat domes and massive
appearance, but as we had, in spite of
much reading on the subject, pictured the
interior as being somewhat like St. Mark's
at Venice, we were disappointed with its
cathedral-like interior and the immensity
of it. The usual felt slippers of hugs di
mensions having been tied over our boots,
we slid softly through the gilded church,
sat down upon- the base of a magnificent
column and tried to get into our minds
some idea of its vastness.
Echoes of Music.
As we sat there we heard lovely chords
of music, which seemed to float around us
a.nd' echo off up into the dome, We could
see no human being except a Mohammedan
In a green turban kneeling in the gallery
reserved for those who had made the pil
grimage to Mecca, and silently praying,
with his eyes toward the sacred city. On
inquiring from Leon the origin of the really
lovely confusion of sounds we were led
silently to the foot of one of the high pulpits
tnd found there a theological student seated
cross-legged on the cold floor and repeating
parts of the Koran aloud, while he rocked
back and forth with his eyes closed.
Then we discovered that here and there
in the nooks and corners of the big building
were numbers of other students; in the
boly of holies under the Mecca gallery, con
cealed by a lacy stone screen in the cloist
ers, and under the interesting map of old
idecca, all intoning at the top of their voices
while they rocked 'themselves to and fro.
I had been told once by a-Persian that he
could never remember anyth'.ng that he had
Learned at school ,or in his more advanced
studies unless he rocked himself back and
!orth and closed his eyes, and now I under
stand it perfectly.
Why such a confusion of sounds should
separate Itself and form lovely musical
chords I cannot tell, but such was the
case.
One of my felt slippers, about fifteen sizes
too large, having slipped off for the tenth
ANNU
ims I a giv-ng It i an -mpem Ik: i al
wsg it fter, wam Las. betmed e
ad WNd maety. as he stooed to Nck I
% "ea. hat one aNs less yot pa
The bd. ike and band remaela of et
delightfuul csorfer 'as he made bls very ales
remart always quite esnvulsed as. He
hiaself was a septic of aties, and
mairasoon tas or manything exempt the
.et rnetcal nd matter-of-taet Clet hae
v r related with a look of amused
tolerance, or "You yerself beliees that,
mse.dme=! No-o-o-o!"
We wire taken to the window opening
upon a sort of three-sided well, which Is
said to let In cool breeses even on the hottest
days, and were told the tale with a shrug
of the shoulders and "Why not thee, it is
all like a well. Wells eo never hotr
Then to the miraculous pillar of marble In
one side of which Is a smail hole worn by
devout fingers, and which is said always
to contain moisture, why, no one knows.
"Grease 'eet eea, team dirty fngersr ex
caimed Leon in disgusted tones, and then
we were told to look in a certain direction
and we would see the "Royal Chapelle. Re
gard that chapelle, mesdanees; it is from
the sultan!" From St. Sona we were take.
to the Mosque of Ahmed, the only existing
mosque with six minarets. Before It was
built the one at Mecca had six, and none
other but the sultan, its builder, refused to
build it unless he could have six minarets.
too, so a seventh had to be added to the
mosque at Mecca. So much for being a
sultan.
Eat, Willy Nmy.
As we were feeling decidedly the need of
something to eat, we concluded to go into a
Turkish restaurant and eat what was given
us. willy nilly, which we accordingly did.
and thanked kind fate devoutly that noth
ing worse was placed before us.
The worst proved to be a dith of meat, of
what animal heaven only knew the secret.
cut Into tiny pieces and boiled before our
eyes on a large gridiron, s!x or eight
pieces at a time being strung on a small
stick. After it was well cooked, It was
poured over a large dish of rice deliciously
prepared, and then a dish of melted fat
poured on top of the whole. For drink we
had the wine of Constantinople, not wine
at all, of course, but the juice of various
fruits pressed out and drunk while fresh.
After this meal, which we found it quite
possible to eat, we were taken to a shop
where they sold only the sweets made in
Constantinople, and we came forth laden
with toukoum or Turkish delight, and also
each with a tin of "delight of rose." We were
taken to the beautiful Porcelain Mosque, all
tiled throughout with the most enchanting
blue tiles; to the museum to see the wonder
ful tomb of Alexander, indescribably beauti
ful, "The real toomp of a kink." according to
Leon, and we ended up at the small mon
astery on the hill back of Galata., where
we were told we could see the "dervishe
que houle," the English of it being too
much for Leon. In spite of all we had
read about the howling dervishes, as we
looked down from the very rickety little
gallery on the row of men clad In white,
who, standing close against the wall, in
toned something which sounded like "Allah
a-a ii Allah a-a-a," first softly, then more
and more strongly, at the end of each in
toning bending so that with the very de
vout their heads touched their knees, we
were startled and interested beyond words.
Some of them seemed to do it all for effect,
glancing at us frequently and about the
room, but two or three were undoubtedly
sincere, and one ascetic looking young man
over six feet lcept It up until he fell over In
a faint, and when revived started in again,
the tears running down his thin face. He
kept his eyes fixed, looking straight ahead
of him, always touched his knees with his
forehead, and his earnest, deep notes.
"Allah a-a 11 Allah a-a-a!" are hard to for
get.
A Twilight Walk,
As we went home in the twilight we found
little stalls for selling cakes at most of the
street corners, each stall festooned with
small pink paper roses and lighted by a lan
tern. The owner usually sat in his wheel
barrow near by and waited for a customer.
Moonlight on the fine old tower of Galata
completed a busy and a happy day.
Para, lovely by day, with its countless
slim white minarets, grows more lovely by
night when its whiteness turns from white
wash to pearl, and its every defect is con
cealed or made beautiful.
One more day completed our short stop
in the fascinating old town, and we spent
most of it in the basars, where our tempers
were far from being up to test, for we were
assailed at every shop door and street cor
ner and the wares absolutely thrust upon
us. As every one spoke English. and the
shops were much more than the attractive
cells of Tiflis and Tangiers, we were not
greatly attracted by them and were very
greatly exasperated.
Early in the afternoon, having paid our
not exorbitant bill, and been..assailed in the
most disagreeable manner by every ser
vant, man and woman for a tip, we forced
our enraged way through. the crowd and
sped off to the station, where we boarded
the orient express for Paris and began an
eleven days' journey of uncomfortable lux
ury, for we had a nice little compartment
for two, with toilet rooms next it, there
wAs a dining car to the train, and no change
between Paris and Constantinople, but
even in the most luxuriant train one misses
the cleanness and space of an ocean
steamer.
As the train slid. almost silently, out of
the station Leon, standing in the passage,
shook his fist in the direction of the city
and said sin a low voice, "'Tat city, the
wickedest of all in the world, all bad, Sul
tan, wickedest man in the world.. No man
be good or he get killed, I lve there fifteen
years, I know. Any man bear me now, he
follow me to Paris and kill me dead with a
sword or a poignard."
MARGARI!'r STERLING,
The Brave at Home.
The maid who~ binds her warrior's sash,
With srnile that well her pain diasemiss,
The while beneath her drooDing lash
One starry tear-drop bangs and trembles;
Though Heaven alone record. the tear,
And Fsme shall never know her story,
Her heart has shed a drop as dear
As e'er bedewed the field of glory?
The wife who girds her husband's swesd
'Mid little ones who weep or wonder,
And bravely a ks the cheering word,
What thoug her heart he rent asuader.
Doomed nightly in her dreams to hear -
The bolts of death around him rattie,
Has shed as sacred blood as e'er
Was peered upon the field of battie?
The mother who conceals her e
While to her bredet her -o presas,
The breathes a few brave words and briet,
Kissing the patriot brow she blesmms,
With no one bnt her secret God
To know thseai that weighs epen her,
Shed. holy bloo as e'er the sad -
Eseved on Freedom's feld of hemeri
-MUOMAS BUCHAAN 33*an
A~L SALE
0OXES
nthe Werid.
I Iegko ACASA