Yorkville enquirer. [volume], March 18, 1891, Image 1

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lewis m. grist, Proprietor. J gui Jndepcndt;nt Jamils Jfeicspaper: the promotion of the fditiqal, Social, ;fugi;iciiltaipl and dfonimerrinl Jntercfite of the $outh. j TERMS?$2.00 A TEAR IN ADVANCE.
"VOL. 37. ~~ YOEKVILLE, 8. C., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 18, 1891. NO. 6.
I ?/v*a*v ia o-ricro.nt nnrl ?n I r j <V,11??,S??. ffiA pWtJnn. tha
CREOLE AN
BY T. e.
Author of "Four Yonrs Ir
"Cross 1
DEDICATED TO HON. HENRY WATTERSOI
UNFOROOTTEN, AS OUR SHADOWS
[Copyright, 1890, by J. B. Lippiucott Coi
ment wi
SYNOPSIS OF PART H-IN THE SOUTH.
Chaftkb 1.?In New Orleans; 1806; the first
carnival week since thejwar. Dale la a Federal
general; Adrlen has been a Confederate major
general. They are both In the city.
Chaftkb 2.?Dale calls on Mme. d'Auvlgne,
Latour's grandmother. Latour, In disguise,
. visits Mme. Latour.
Chaftkb S.?Dale enters the International
race the day before the carnival, riding for the
United States.
Ch>ptkb 4.?The race is exciting and well
ridden. Dale wins.
Chaftkb A?The carnival.
PAST II?CHAPTER VL
ORDEAL BY COMBAT.
Jutl OiI the trormin fi ^'cU tetvoeton
them, in a dead faint.
The crowds of maskers were thinning
as a tall figure in gray domino paused at
the gate of a brick walled garden. Putting
his passkey in the lode he glanced
up the street, waiting the approach of a
Pierrot. The latter came up, with none
of the frolic mien his garb suggested, and
waited to be questioned.
"It seems you rather exceed the license
of the carnival," the domino said quietly.
"This is the third time you have
thrown yourself in my way, and now
you dog me home. Do you know me?"
"Beyond a doubt," the Pierrot answered,
in the squeak of his character.
"You are the Federal Gen. Everett"
With a gesture of impatience Dale
threw off his disguise.
"You seek me," he said shortly.
"What is your business?"
"Admit me into your garden and you
shall have it You are afraid of nothing,"
he added, as Everett hesitated,
"but I may add that the danger is only
to myself."
Everett threw open the little gate,
stooped to fasten the latch inside, and j
as he raised his eyes the dark, glowing j
pupils of Adrien Latour burned into i
them.
"Dale!" "Adrien!" And they were in
each other's arms. For them at that instant
there had been no war, no suffer- |
ings, no victories. They were boys once >
more by the banks of the far rolling
Hudson.
* "Dale, old boy," the Creole said after ;
a pause, "madame told me all, and I felt
I must see you once more. I shadowed
your camp, but you were so busy train- !
ing I guessed you were to ride, though I '
never could catch you alone."'
"I felt some strange magnetism," Everett
broke in, "when yon startled my
mare last Sunday, though I could not
analyze it Ah, you dear old fellow!"
The strong arm crossed the other's shoulder
as the two men sat on a low bench
under a flowering orange tree. "It
seems too good to be true, Adrien, to
have you back again."
"It seems so to me, Dale, after all 1 [
have been through. But I must not let
you compromise your ideas of duty. I j
am still a rebel. I believe I am dogged j
by spies. If I am recognized, presto! j
your provost marshal!"
a rm 2 ? U
"nonsenaei xue war 10 urcx, mcniH ;
answered cheerily. "You are perfectly j
safe to return to madame and the old
home. Not as my friend, but as my late
foe, 1 offer you unconditional parole."
"You cannot understand my feelings,"
the other said sadly, turning his face
aside. "As victor you can afford to be
generous. But Dale, I fled- to Mexico
because 1 would not take the eath to the
government that had beaten me. We
made the election of ordeal by combat,
and I accept the verdict in honor and
in candor. But I cannot.take the oath."
"No argument need ever come between
you and me," Everett answered
frankly. "I think I understand your
feelings; I certainly respect them. You
need take no oath. Your simple parole
is all that shall be asked."
The Creole again shook his head sadly.
"I cannot ask protection of the government
I tried to overturn," he replied.
"To-morrow at dawn a smuggler slips
out for Cuba. While the bells call you
to church I shall be on my way to voluntary
exile."
"But, Adrien, this is folly."
"Very like," La tour answered, with
something of his old smile. "I always
did talk wisdom and act folly. But,
dear old boy, I cannot do it Better enter
some foreign service, where my sword
can buy me place."
"This is mawkish sentiment," Everett
replied seriously. "It is neither reasonable
nor manly, apsides, remember your
words to me before you resigned?that
our old school did not educate Hessians! i
Aha! you remember? Yet you will sell j
your sword to some cause where your
heart is not, purely from bitterness and
pique!"
"You wrong me, Dale," the other answered
gently. "I have no pique, and I
know the true soldier accepts the turn
of battle. God knows there is no bitterness
in my heart for those who fought
for what they believed the right! I honor
them all?love as well as ever those I
loved before."
"And can you imagine we respect you
who took nn arms believine von
were right?"
"I do not," La tour answered frankly.
"You could not Had I dreamed that
would I have risked this dress, however
1 had yearned to take your hand before
I sailed? No, not Politicians can break
up governments, Dale, but not friendships
like ours."
"Then why leave your country?"
Again the. Creole turned away his face,
though he held firmly the hand in hia
"I have no country now," he answered
firmly. . "It is not your fault, but the
iron heel grinds upon us all. God alone
knows when it may be lifted?what may
be left when it shall bet Ah, Dale, you
remember the German's poem, 'None
but the freeman hath a fatherland t*"
' You are the same oldAdrien," Dale
answered regretfully; "gentle as a woman
in your loves, obstinate as a broncho
in going your own way; but what of
your life all these years?'
Then, under the oranges whose perfume
struggled with the sweet olive for
the mastery, each told his story; and as
they talked, heedless of time, the moon
rose, bright as daylight, and frolic
songs of maskers were borne to them on
the soft night wind. At length, after a
pause, Dale Everett laid his hand on his
friend's shoulder, his voice Boftening as
he asked:
"And in all these years have you never
loved again?'
La tour sprung to his feet, took a rapid
turn under the trees, then turned and
stopped in the deep shadow.
"Loved again?' he repeated scofflngly.
"Why, man, a dozen times! I have
sworn the lips that were nearest were
the lips that vrere dearest! I have cast
off the black eyes only to tire of the
blue"
"Stop! You are not speaking honestly,"
Everett's voice was cold and stern.
L
D PURITAN.
r>e LEON,
i Rebel Capital**," " Tuny,"
Purpose**."
J, IN MEMORY OF SCHOOLBOY DAYS, STILL
LENGTHEN TOWARD THE SUNSET.
tnpany, ami published by special isrrangeth
them.]
*?
' "I still believe the brother of my boyhood
a true man, and such do not forget
lightly."
There was a long pause. Thought in
the brain of each peopled the tdlenoe
with memoried shapes too fast to admit
of words. Everett spoke first?hurriedly,
as though the words cost him an effort
and he would be rid of them:
"Adrien, Beverly Mason died four
years ago?a singular death, on the anniversary
of his wedding day almost to
the hour. He was found in his chair, a
candle lighted on the desk by his side
and a charred paper on the salvW by it
Heart trouble, the doctors said." The
? ? ? nvtil UA tttAW^ /m
Buencu was UUUIU&CU auu UJO wcuv vu
slowly, "One tiny scrap only of that pa*
per was unconstimed, and, Adrien, that
scrap bore your name!"
The Creole still stood silent, but his
thin lips closed tighter under his mustache,
and the haggard look on his dark
face sorted but ill with the mountebank
garb. At last he spoke calmly, but with
great effort:
"Dale, if you value our friendship never
speak of this again. That woman's
name has been blotted from ray brain
since the night she sold herself! It shall
never cross my lips again, so help me
God!"
He raised his hand in the moonlight
as Everett turned away and cried:
"How she sold herself you have never
dreamed!"
Then silence again fell between them.
Adrien's face was dark and set. Over
Dale Everett's emotions played and flick- :
ered like clouds across the moca's, tern- ;
pering, not hiding, the great light of !
pity that shone upon his friend as he j
thought:
"Dare I tell him?now?"
At length La tour turned and asked,
not in raillery, but in interest"And?you?"
"I have and do," Dale answered. "No,
do not start; I am not married. But one
woman is far more to me than wife
could ever be! I am true to her as
though the sacrament had made us one;
my highest happiness to make her the.
pride, the envy of all other women I"
"You!" The Creole stared at his
friend. "You waste your life for a woman!"
"No, not waste it," Everett answered
gently. "But I do all this?for lover
There was silence. Busy thought in :
Everett's brain was again shadowing j
the face he raised to the moonlight La- I
tour kept his bent in the shadow of the |
orange tree.
Suddenly Dale started up, mattering :
to himself, "There is one way only!"
Then he turned to La tour. "Wait!" he !
said quickly. "You shall see' my excuse!"
*
Hastily drawing the domino over his
uniform the Federal general passed into
the street And as he went on rapidly
he repeated:
"Even that may fail, bat it is the only
hope."
Left alone Latonr paced the garden,
laughing bitterly to himself.
"He, too! Dale Everett the plaything
of a woman!" he thought aloud. "And
bled so, too! Well, we are all fools for
them, each in his own way! I sm bi.ter
enough, God knows! yet I can never part
with this!"
He drew from his breast a woman's
glove, white once, and delicate, but soib
ed and worn now. Dropping heavily
upon the bench he looked upon the glove
bug and dreamily. The hard glint faded
out of his eyes; the better nature lit
them softly as he murmured:
"Six years ago I stole this from her
wedding! And through toil and danger
and death this toy has lain on my heart!
Even now it wipes out all between and
carries me back to the cottage on the
river?before she lied at the altar and I
lied when 1 cursed her!"
The proud head drooped in deep and :
motionless reverie, the little glove still j
held in the battle browned but delicate |
hand.
So deep was the man's thought that he !
* - _ ? *? jl\_ _ :
neara notmng 01 an opening uoor on uio :
gallery behind him, of a woman's step
upon the walk, or the rustling of her :
train on the fallen orange leaves. He
did not even hear her laugh, so low and
musical it almost seemed to melt into
moonlight, as she regarded him, around
the tree against which he leaned.
Developed in the fullest splendor of 1
womanhood, Bhe was still lithe and
graceful enough for girlhood, the perfect
neck and rounded arms glittering
with diamonds, and the wholo toilet?a :
Pompadour costume?combining costliness
and taste. A satin half mask, with
lace fall, hid the face, but through it
two bright eyes peered curiously at the I
dress of the figure before her, half hidden
in the shadow. Then she advanced
on tiptoe, saying to herself:
"So this is our general's excuse for j
delay t I must be hours late at the balls,
while he plays mountebank among the
people. Di done, Monsieur Pierrot!"
She spoke the last words aloud, and [
again laughed softly; but Adiien Latour |
did not look up. He started vaguely, as I
though the laugh were an echo of his
own memories, now far away by the
fast rolling river of the north. She i
laughed again softly behind her mask. j
"Come, Dale," she said, "give me
credit, and I'll offer two pennies for the
thoughts? Merciful heaven!"
The rich satin draperies crumpled
back against the tree, and the little !
hands clinched tightly over the heaving j
bust For, at the first words he heard,
the Creole had stooped forward, thrust
: the soiled glove into his breast, and then
I turned full to the speaker. Now he
looked with half sorrowful, half curious
air upon the startled, palpitating form J
; before him.
"So this is Dale's expensive toy!" he
[muttered. "Truly he pays well for it in
silks and diamonds! Confound the jade!
! I'm sorry she caught me mooning,
though. I wonder if she saw."
j In a husky voice, forced out of her in ,
half gasps, the woman answered his
i thought in two words:
"That glove!"
Hardly recking to what manner of
; woman lie spoke, and more in mockery
of himself than of her, Latour replied:
"The glove? Oh, that is only a
souvenir of one man's idiocy, of one
woman's sin, long years ago."
! "Where?" The woman's voice was
i lower than before.
"Where you have never been, pretty
i Creole," he answered, all the lightness
! in the words, none in the voice. "On
the cold banks of a northern river, where
one woman's one act killed *he future of
! two men and her own hono as well!"
A quick gesture tore av ay the satin
: mask, and Bennie Standis i raised her
, head haughtily to the speaker. There
was small reminder of the pert girl of
the past in that proud pose of head and j
| stern compression of lip; and the man, :
: never changing liis attitude of easy grace,
gazed at her with a dumb horror freez;
ing his eyes.
Then out of his face fell every drop of
blood, leaving it blanched and sallow,
j But its lines grew hard, and the bloodless
lips set in a straight cruel line. Still
he moved no muscle; only tho eyes dii
lated and glowed with evil fire.
Equally motionless was the woman;
but she regarded him half in sorrow,
half in anger. When at last she spoke
: the voice had only coldness in it, neither
menace nor entreaty.
"Aclrien Latonr, the last time you saw
that woman it was to insult her. Do
not let six years' malice prompt yon now
to slander her!"
"Slander?you! How could I?" There
was infinity of scorn in the man's tone,
but even through that struggled surprise.
Bennie Standish advanced one step
toward him.
"Those days were so long ago," she
said more gently. "Even then you
never dreamed all I suffered. Since, we
both have suffered more. Let us forgive
at least, even if neither can forget."
She held out the dainty, diamond covered
hand. He seemed not to see it, yet
the flash of the moonlight on the stones
made him shudder.
"Oh, God!" he groaned, in bitterness
of soul, "this cursed war has passed
over our country like a blight It has
dried up the springs of honor in men,
poisoned the founts of purity in women!"
Then, as though in mockery of the
strong man's agony, a snatch of merry
song, with glad refrain of laughter,
broke on the night air, floating to those
two under the orange trees.
If Latour heard it his face underwent
no change. But a flood of pitying memories
swept over the woman's, leaving it
very gentle, as she said:
"Have time and memory made you
only more bitter?"
"Bitter? I am scarcely just!" he said,
in a dry, hard voice, more to himself
than in reply to her. For a second he
looked full in her eyes, his own glinting
with cruel, steely glitter. Through set
teeth, with effort to speak calmly, he
added:
"That day 1 told you that you sold
yourself. It was only your body then;
now it is body and soul!"
For some seconds the woman stared at
him in dumb wonderment. Suddenly
she recoiled as if he had struck her with
his fist; surprise, horror and contempt
sweeping over her face. She dropped
her eyes, but held out her hands to him,
entreating piteously:
"Adrien, you must hear"
He broke in almost brutally.
"Go! Go at once!" he cried hoarsely,
"or you will force me to do what I never
feared before?insult a woman!"
There was no mistaking the tone, even
had the mere words been less plain. Instantly
her face changed. The hard,
proud look rose to it and set there.
Without another glance at him Adrien
Latour's old love turned her back upon
him and, drawing her rich laces about
her, passed under the orange trees out
of his sight
And again the mocking maskers' cho
rua, ringing ont upon the night, was
borne, meaningless yet jarring, to his
stnnned sense.
For a fall minute he stood still as
thoagh carven stone. Then he dropped
upon the seat, the proad head buried in
his hands, with the wrong cry:
"Fallen! and through him!"
For minutes, that might have been
hours for anght he knew, the still moonlight
flooded the motionless figure.
Then the 6treet gate opened again,
and Dale Everett, followed by his two
aids, re-entered the garden. Passing
straight to Latour he dropped his hand
upon his shoulder as he began:
"I just missed her. Arnold says
she"
At the tonch the Creole had sprung to
his feet, his face full in the moonlight.
Something in that face cut off speech as
a thunderclap might It was marble
calm, but the set lipe and the ugly gleam
in the eyes there was no mistaking. The
cold steel ring in t&e voice nullified the
excess of courtly polish in manner, as
La tour said:
"Pardon! but you have been at too
much pains to amuse me. And truly
your new carnival does show strange
sights?"
"What do you mean?" Dale asked wondering.
"It unmasks characters, while it masks
faoee," the other went on coldly. "It
teaches that in your service, Gen. Everett,
a man may rise to his brigade and
yet be a?scoundrel!"
The quietly whispered word fell so
distinct and clear that Everett recoiled
as though he had stung him.
"You say?that!" he exclaimed in surprise,
almost breathless.
The Creole drew one step nearer. An
ugly smile twisted his lips, that scarcely
moved, as he whispered:
"You shall fight me?here?nowl l
have used one word; do not force me to
use another?coward!"
For a single instant Everett's right
hand clinched, his arm half raised, as
his brow grew black and knotted. The
next, the arm fell, the hand unclosed;
but the teeth were set through which
he forced the words:
"Had another Bpoken either word, I
had stretched him there! From the
brother of my boyhood I must better
understand"
"Do you understand?that?"
With the quickness of light, Adrien
had drawn the torn glove from his breast
and passed it sharply over the other's
face. But, vivid as was the motion,
Dale had seized his wrist in a grip of
steel and held it motionless.
While one might count five seconds
no sound, no movement, was made.
Then Everett softly loosened his grasp
and dropped his hands. His face bore
no trace of anger, his voice only a solemn
pity, as he said:
"Adrien Latour, you have put blood
between us. Why, God alone can tell.
May he pardon you in your madness!"
Dale Everett had no bigotry. As a
soldier he used the soldier's weapon, and
if he condemned ho followed the tenet of
the school he was reared in. Five
minutes sufficed for preparation. Neither
the general's humor nor his rank brooked
question. The two aids acted as seconds;
their sabers went into the opponents'
hands.
"Capt. Arnold, you will act for Gen.
Latour," Dale had said, as calmly as if
he gave the aid an order to form
parade. "We prefer this matter kept
t?x-t :?i- m i.i T
ftDSOiuteiy private. ouuutu x tuauuu iu
be hurt, remember, Gren. Latour is to be
passed by you, masked, by all sentinels.
We are ready."
While ho spoko Everett had thrown
off his uniform coat and vest and cast
his hat on the ground. Baring his arm
above the elbow, ho took his saber from
the young captain and stood still.
Latour tore off his mountebank's
jacket, stripped the sleeve of his'army
shirt from a brown, sinewy ann, and
took his sword from Arnold.
Then, in the calm moonlight sifted
through the oranges, the friends of boyhood
looked into each other's eyes as men
look when they kilL The even skill,
that years gone had been the wonder of
West Point, was now to have its deadly
test. The sabers crossed, shivered the
moonlight into silvery spray, from feint
and thrust aud parry. And the giddy
song of the maskers, nearer and more
gay, swelled in the chorus of a wild
scream, as Bennie Standish flew from
the distant shadows toward the combatants.
At the same instant, Everett's saber?
made by contract for other work than
this?shivered at the hilt, flying ten
yards away.
Before the fragment touched the
ground, the Creole had stepped back one
pace aud grounded his point, just as the
terrified woman fell between them in a
dead faint.
For an instant Latour stood like a
6tatue. Then he said to Capt. Arnold:
"The general does not demand another
6word. His lifo is his. Please say to
your commander, captain, that if he desires
to have the rebel arrested he must
do so before the dawn. For your sendee
to me, thanks!"
Dale answered nothing?seemed to
hear nothing. He was bending over the
prostrate woman as tenderly as though
no deadly combat had over known him.
! With a courteous salute to the young
captains Adrien Latour put on his hid
eons mask and passed ?rom~?h6 garden
into the shadows of the street.
PAET m?OTDEB SHADOW
OF THE SPHINX.
CHAPTER L
OLD FRIENDS IN NEW PLACES.
Latour started forward and grasped lord
Martindale's hand.
One of those delicious December afterj
noons, only dreamed of elsewhere, but
! common under Egyptian skies, was set;
tling down over Cairo.
Warm, soft and hazy as the "Indian
summer" of America, the day was dropt- !
I ping half relnotant in the lap of night,
j The red globe of tho sun hung low over
| the distant desert across the Nile, its
j ever shifting sand waves motionless
I now, under the light breeze, and the ro'
freshing moisture of night beginning al;
ready to creep into the air.
I Far to the southward showed the dimi
ming line of the Mokattam hills, while
away toward sunset rose the tall con<*s of
the pyramids; the Sphinx a grave and
silent sentinel thrown forward in a<ll
vance. Between them and the city fhe
j immemorial Nile sent her current raci
ing to the sea, low now and curving like
! ? o!lm. oaminf WnrAfin rotTBatiniy hAnln)
C* OUTCA ovft|a/UV krv v ti wvu v ,. .
, fringed with tall topped palm trees and
; dotted with splendid palaces,
i Within the city sights and sounds bej
gan to make themselves known which
! ever shun the day in this strange land;
! for duy is dnll and still in Egypt to all
i save those unfortunates whom need and
j toil call into activity; and there, by the
j fiat of climate, only night lives.
Central in El-Kehirah, the victorious
I city, is the great groved public i>ark,
i covering several acres and known as the
j Ezbekieh. Ancient?for what is young
i in this land which makes Antiquity herI
self look new??and unique, too, this
j common breathing place of all the mixjd
! races combines the gayety of the Boise
j de Boulogne with the chaffering of the
J Bowery. About this great open park
I group the principal hotels and many
i residences of the better class of Euroj
pean population, occasional palaces rearj
ing their lofty domes among them,
i Over one of these last, at the gateway
j of which an armed soldier walked his
j post, in place of the usual bowab or
! porter floated the crescent flag of the
j Sublime Porte; for the semi-sovereignty
| of Egypt, under the firman granting its
| powers, is permitted no separate flag.
In its spacious court yard and garden
was stabling and grooming space for a
cavalry detachment, the lower range
of rooms being used for offices and barracks.
In the main apartment above, stretched
i upon a divan and enjoying the long,
I deep whiffs from his nargileh, reclined
; an officer of the array of the Khedive
| Ismail Pasha, for that luxurious grand:
son of a warrior ggandsire?Mehemet
| Ali, "the Lion of Islam"?now held the
j reins of a government almost independent
of Stamboul. This soldier's lithe
I but powerful frame was half hidden in
| the full folds of pajamas of India silk,
j but the languid poso and femininity of
| dress were negatived by the clear, strong
i lines of a face out of which flashed black
| eyes, restless and defiant even in his
j reverie. The thick, 6hort black hair,
; touched with white about the temples,
j proclaimed him a Christian, spite of th6
red fez lying near upon the cushion, and
| the features were those of a Frank,
I though their swarthy olive denied his
I being Ingleeze.
Even an old acquaintance might have
! needed a Becond glance to recognize in
i Latour Bey the Creole youth so famed
i for manly prowess at West Point a decj
ade gone Yet Time had set no special
i pressure of his signet on him, spite of
j the light snow round his brow and the
i stray white threads marking the droop;
ing mustache. The change was that
' nameless something which indurates
1 characteristics, impressing the inner
! upon the outer man; that something
i which whispers, even through casual ex|
pression and movement, that the man
: has lived.
j His head resting on hands locked be;
hind it, Adrien Latour gazecl through
j the western casement long and without
i motion, but his eyes?in which the light
flickered, glowed and died in turn?held
little of the level landscape there.
But whatever his eyes 6aw they came
back promptly as the curtain, everre|
placing doors in eastern houses, was
raised and the tall, lank form of an orderly
entered, saluted and stood at "At!
tention!" like a statue. The man was a
j Syrian, gaunt as a greyhound and as
i deep chested, and his eyes and position
i as he waited would have challenged
score from the keenest judge of compeI
titive drill. For three years had given the
Creole soldier time to bring the Egyptian
i cavalry anu into discipline equal to its
j former efficiency, and nothing of a martinet,
he had yet taught his troop com;
manders that the faults of subalterns
and men would be visited on them.
On leaving homo ? forever, as he
thought?Latour "had been among the
first Cenfederate officers to accept the
offer of service made by Ismail soon j
after his succession to liis uncle, Said I
Paslia, in 18G4. His keen soldiership !
and strong personal traits had early j
made him a favorito with the vacillating
viceroy, who, by taste and education
more a Frenchman than a Turk, ever
had a weakness for the Frangi not pleasing
to his i>eople. But La tour's good
work in the council and the field had i
proved the wisdom of his choice for the !
high rank of colonel, and the campaign |
in Abyssinia earned the brevet of bey, i
the khedive not being permitted under I
the finnan to give the rank of general. I
"Well, orderly?" the colonel said, in j
Arabic.
The man stepped forward and presented
a letter in long official envelope.
The only thing about it un-English was
the Turkish signet in a great splay of
black wax. It was very brief, slating j
from the minister of war, the court be
ing then at Alexandria, that British vis- j
itors of great consideration and largely
interested in the Suez canid would at [
once visit the capital, and that his high- I
ness desired every courtesy shown them j
by the ranking officer thon at Cairo.
"Peki! Oa!" he Baid to tho orderly in j
Arabic; the man saluting, making tho
rightabout and disappearing liko an j
automaton.
"More of theso cursed English!" La- !
tour added to himself in French, as he |
rose and strode about tho room. "More '
boredom with titled donkeys, all whis- j
kers and eyeglass, and frowsy old red i
faced dowagers! Notn du (liable! why !
cannot his highness keep them within
tho light of his own face! It is bad j
enough to command his black soldiers 1
and train his infidel officers! Not much I
better than if I had taken the oath and j
applied for a nigger regiment! But this :
bear leading for John Bull is worse! I'd J
rather, ten to one, have tho Sheik Abou- j
Ali refuse to pay the tribute, and be I
sent to squeeze it out of his black hide. I
Ah! Ahmed's escort back? Perhaps I
may!"
With a smile at his own warmth over
a trifle the Creole changed his mood, ;
walking calmly to the window that overlooked
the court below. The clatter of
hoofs and challenge of the guard, had
died away; and he saw a handsome
young officer dismount, give sn order to
his sergeant and, as the troopers-of the
escort rode off, disappear under the portal.
The next instant, preoeded by the
orderly, he entered the chaml>er and sa- ;
luted.
"Well,, captain," Latour queried in !
French, "what did theaheik answer?" 1
"Literally notldng, colonel," the other !
answered in the same tongue. "We i
smoked many pipes and drank much |
vile coffee, under his tents at Miuieh, i
and we also paid many compliments, j
Sheik Abon-Ali spoke most loyally jof |
his highness; bat 1 could, only induce |
him to promise to send a tins ted. messenger
of his own to Cairo with a letter
regarding the tribnte."
Captain Ahmed Mustafa was a high
Turk of influential family., young, talented
and soldierly. One oil the young
Egyptians sent to Europe by Said Pasha
for education, his tastes were Parisian
rather than oriental. Be was La tour's
adjutant, and more nearly his friend
than any native offloer.
"But you know tbaAv^rato, colonel,"
Ahmed added. "From our conference
I have no idea that the sheik will pay
the tribute."
"Then we will doubt less be sent to
bring it," Latour answered. "It will be j
a pleasant change from garrison routine, |
captain. But you have a hard ride, and ;
need food and rest."
As the younger soldier saluted, about i
to turn away, the sharp note of the bugle !
rang out clear in stable call, floating ,
fainter from across the river at the cav- ;
airy barracks.
"By the way, captain," Latour added,
"order the officer in charge of evening
Btables to report the number and condi- :
tion of the extra mounts. His highness |
sends a fresh squadron of beefeaters to |
be furnished wi th horses. That is all."
As the other 'disappeared, Latour clap- j
ped liis hands to summon his Arab servant,
soon donning his brilliant, gold in- ;
crusted uniform of the staff. For Ismail j
Pasba delighted to load his officers with I
more gold and color than most of them j
could carry gracefully.
Scarcely was the military toilet complete
when the clang of the sentry's [
musket sounded from the court, followed
by his call for the sergeant of the guard.
Almost immediately heavy feet hurried
np the stairs, and the orderly appeared,
almost brushed aside by the close following
visitor. He was a burly six footer,
red J.'aced and mth long flowing yellow
whiskers. A huge veil turbaned his
linen helmet, and black straps crossed
and recrossed the broad chest that
seemed struggling to escape from his
wax fitting cutaway of dingy plaid
twe<Hl.
"Delighted, my dear boy! delighted,
really!" he cried heartily. "Didn't have
an idea, you know, till they told me at
the Hotel d'Orient. Knew you were in
Egypt, my dear Latour, but hikdn't
gueased our good luck!?hadn't, 'pon
I o T - .1.. ^*11 Ka ,1a.
tUULl-Jr; AMHiy iuai Hiiuoiu will uo u?lighted,
as I am, really!"
Iatour started forward and grasped
Lord Martindale's hand warmly.
"I am equally charmed," he said cordially.
"How this does bring back old
times! Why, I was a cadet, my lord,
the last time we met; and Lady Martindale
is with yon? A double pleasure."
Throwing himself on a divan, the Englishroan
ran on about the boredom of
travel, Lady Edith's insatiable desire for
change, his interest in Suez canal mattern
and the extreme courtesy ol! the
Khjdive Ismail. Meanwhile he drank
all the coffee and smoked all the pipes
steadily provided by the diligent chiborique-ghi
of the host.
Iatour listened courteously with his
ears, but not with his brain. That was
filled with confusion of memories conjured
up by this sudden visit. He heard
the rush of the Hudson as he walked
rotmd "Flirtation," the swirl of the riding
school and the "sound off" of the
band at dress parade. But the voice that
spoke softly to him, the eyes that looked
approval from the gallery, the hand that
waved "Au revoir!" from the plain were
? i ti _ f TUltl. IT
not anotners, our inoee or rxiun van
der Huyscn!
That rich, dark face, with its mobile
features; those sensitive lips, parting in
rare smiles over perfect teeth; those
marvelous eyes, that deepened from
brown to black as they looked into his?
all seemed things of yesterday.
For, in the four past years, active
work in new scenes and ibsolute sever- i
ance from anything Amer can had greatly
changed the Creole. Living absolutely
in the present, cureless of the
future and forgetful of the past, the influences
of climate and surrounding had
told unconsciously upon liim, and if not
actually a fatalist in theory, he took
quite kindly to the practice.
Time, the consoler, had done his work
fairly well; and Latour had either forgotten
the old wound, or had ceased to
feel it pain him.
One's tastes change over with the
years; and a -decade of them in war, !
travel and hard work, had had their ef- j
feet in casting into obli non the early j
episodes of Latour's life. And now, if j
tliess came up as a mist, shutting out
the burly Briton from his sight, the i
voicB that sounded tlirough it was the i
low, thrilling contrjilto of Edith Van
der Htivsen. and the eves that empha- j
sized the voice were those deep, lumi- j
nous ones he had looked into, without J
understanding, so many an hour of his 1
"eniiampment year."
Bat suddenly returning to Egypt from !
his lightning backward trip to the Bud- j
son, Latour heard tlio Englishman any- i
ing:
"So I told her I'd beat up your quar- |
ters myself, sans facon, and bring you '
over to dine, you know. No duty, I i
hope?"
"None, fortunately," Latour replied !
quickly. "Only one order to scribble, !
and I am yours."
He took up a tablet and wrote hastily !
in French:
"Captain?Countermand request for i
report on extra mounts. Horses will j
not be needed.
"Latour-Bey, Colonel." i
He clapped his hands. "This to Capt. i
Ahmed Mustafa," he said iu Arabic; j
then, turning to Lord Martindale, ho ;
added:
"Now, my lord, I am yours." And j
as the burly form of tho other preceded 1
him under the portiere he muttered to ;
himself:
"What echo to my reverie! Is it-- i
kismet?"
FART HI?CHAPTER II.
TDK RIDDLE OP TIIE AGES.
/f(!
i
And now they sat alone.
MV?w? +Vi(i? n Tt-r-ulr lirul rvLftUPil ninr-0 tllO
sadden advent of the Martindales at
Cairo, each day of it filled with that
unique sightseeing possible only in the
land of tlio Pharaohs. They were already
familiar with the suburbs of Boulak
and Musr el-Aatik?the old musr, or
capital?and expeditions had been made
to all points of interest farther off, always
on horseback when practicable.
For Edith was a superb horsewoman,
and the usually particular cavalry inspector
had promptly placed the choice
of hie stables at their disposition. One
exception he made, in disfavor of Lord
Martindale's man, a bulky cockney who
rodo fourteen stone ten, and so badly at
that as to handicap his horse twenty
pounds additional. So Harris was relegated
to the heaviest brute iu all the
regimental stud.
Edith had grown more intimate with
the face of the Nile than she was with
the dirtier one of the Thames. She had
several times crossed its bend to visit
Gizehin the long, flat ferryboats propelled
by strong, yellow arms at the
sweeps when wind failed the great yellow
lateen sails. She had picnicked amid
the ruins of old Memphis, and in a light |
caique had inspected the gleaming marbles
of Rhoda island and its ragged
Nilometer, that index finger of eldest
hydrography.
The English party had religiously
clambered over the chin high base tiers
of the Great Pyramid, climbing its two
hundred and three steps before lunch
time; and daring the passage to the
"king's chamber," when fortified by bitter
beer to better resist its mingled stuffiness
of potted Rameses and living Arab
guide. And here, as in many other
rambles, a valuable adjunct to the party
was the English physician, Sir Roger
Arn;rife, a long resident in Cairo, whoso
Bkill had won the confidence of the khedive
beyond that of any native hakeem,
and whom the ioreign coiony qnue iaoiized..
One whole morning was devoted to the
Sphinx. Sir Roger had given mnch
valuable information about the grand
colossus of Gizeh, hewn mostly from the
solid spar rock, some hundred paces eastward
of tho second Pyramid. He had
taken part in the excavations at the
front to which the party had descended.
Edith seemed deeply impressed with the
giant proportions of the statue?looking
upward, as they stood between the fore
paws of masonry which make its total
length gome hundred and seventy-two
fe^t, the great head rearing fifty-six feet
over them.
"How majestic she looks!" she exclaimed
with a half sigh.
"So you insist.on the female theory?"
Sir Roger asked with a smile.
"Certainly I do," she answered earnestly.
"I am sure she is the embodiment
of the earliest legend of the name
?of the wickedness of woman and her
punishment."
"Oh, very well," the old surgeon
laughed back. "Then we'll dismiss the
broken beard theory, or change it into
the bow of her ladyship's nightcap. It
is useless to argue with one woman
about her views of another?especially
when one is thirsty." And he moved
off to where Lord Martindale stood,
with his back to them and the statue,
deep in contemplation of the immediate
present as represented by the Bass ale
and potted meats Harris was carefully
transferring from a hamper to the slab
that perhaps held down the ashes of a
long dead king.
"And how calm the grand face is,
though seamed by ages!" the woman
added. "She looks as thongh her memories
of the past cannot be broken by
the littleness of the present And such
a present!"
The tone of the last words made Latour's
glance follow hers toward Lord
Martindale. Then it sought her eyes, to
find in them a restless contempt, seen
once or twice before, but always dismissed
as figment of his own imagination.
But as her eyes met his the light
in them grew softer, and again she raised
them to the towering head above them.
"And those deep lines may mean
either suffering or thought," she added.
"'They probably mean age in part,"
Intour answered, smiling. "But in
lai-ger part they meap that your adopted
countrymen are only vandals, in plaid
cutaways, who have despoiled -her majesisy'B
countenance for souvenirs before
avnannHnn anarprl if And in nart. tOO.
the tears are blows from lances of the
Bedouins. The followers of the prophet,
in the pure simplicity of their faith, revile
those images and symbols of materiality
which their cousins of Rome
and Oxford and Hindoostan bow down
before. They show their contempt by
blows as well as words; though I grieve
to dispel your more poetic view."
"Then all the grander that calm upon
the face which insult even cannot break!"
The exclamation had more the resonance
of a thought inborn than the
sound of casual criticism; and again Latour
saw the dark face turned from the
Sphinx toward the men about the luuch.
"This Sphinx has always been to me
the most interesting of all the monuments,"
he said, turning again. "Whether
king, or queen, or god, the diverse
theories leave me understanding her origin
and purpose less than any of them.
Ehe puzzles me, even as she seems to
taave puzzled the ancients."
"Naturally. She is a woman of
stone," Edith answered. "Even woman
of flesh has been the riddle of the ages!"
"Perhaps," he answered. "And this
statue is typical. The tablets in her
breast may symbolize those illegible
things every woman hides in her own
bosom"
"And which are not comprehended
even when shown to man," she broke in
quickly. "Yet, as shown in the statue
here, those very mysteries may form her
holiest chapel, in which her better self
does sacrifice higher than was ever
burned upon that altar in the lion's
paws."
"Then you would imply," the man rejoined
quickly, "that the popular early
myth of the Sphinx must have been
'woven by some woman; that the death
of him who guessed not ner names was
just punishment for his lack of comprehending
that incomprehensible thing?a
woman's heart."
His eyes were glowing upon her face;
hers were far away beyond tho desert
sands. But tho features softened, as did
tho low, rich voice that said?he know
not whether to herself or him:
"And yet CEdipus came at last to her.
It must bo so over if CEdipus will only
dare tho test. 'Tis his lack of courage, not
her inscrutability, that leaves womanbe
she stono or flesh?the riddle of tho
ages I"
Then into tho philosophy of the enig
inaed past crushed the ruthless realism
of tho present. The cockney groom approached
and said:
"Wud ye' leddyship 'ave me pull tho
hale now?"
And waving his hand across tho improvised
table over the possible Ptolemy
Lord Martindale's voice rang cheerily:
' Come to luncheon. These bloaters
are worth a dozen dead Pharaohs, you
know."
Without reply Edith moved toward
the others. But Latour saw her lip curl
strangely as her eyes rested upon her
husband. The next moment they
glanced into his, a strange, deep glow
in them, as she almost whispered:
"You see, my CEdipus has not yet
come!"
That night they all visited the Ezbekieh;
and it was really within the walls
of Cairo that the woman of tho party
fouml most to interest her. Tho palaces,
i the mosques, with their marvelous minarets,
the bazars, with their sleepy
seeming but shrewd traffic, all pleased
her with their novelty. But it was tho
shifting kaleidoscope of faco und dress
and habit through which tho orientality
of tho land mast impressed her, and
night on tho Ezbekieh always charmed
her.
Truly tho Cairo dear to tho artist and
tho poet is fjist fading, like a mirage;
tho Cairo dear to tho British tourist
flourishes liko a green oasis against the
gray past. He who, with Hope's Anaj
stasias, "goes tliero expecting, if not an
earthly, at least an aquatio paradise,
j finds filth and ruin on the outside and
i filth and misery within."
I But none of this obtrudes itself upon
the Ezbekieh, whore Edith sat that night.
Latour again beside her, as had grown
to be a certainty now. Blase as he was
with sightseeing, and more disgusted
with the average English speaking tourist,
ho now proved a most complaisant
cicerone, never tiringin explanation, and
each day suggesting some new jaunt for
the one succeeding.
And really good excuse he had, for no
ordinary sightseer had Lady Martin dale
approved herself. Her quick intelligence,
extensive reading and ready wit
he remembered as posing him often in
J-i. .* -1 J i.1.- L
cuut)L uaya, uuu uuw, uittbuiouf vuvjr uuw
only lightened the toilsome round of
show places, hnt even invested them
with fresh motives for thought Whether
he recognized the glamour of this unwonted
contact he surely felt its charm,
and without analyzing he yielded to it
unquestioning.
And now they sat alone, Lord Martindale
and Sir Roger having strolled off,
deep in the Suez canal affairs with a
prominent British banker from Alexandria.
About the beautiful park, with its
tall, waving palm trees, its acacias and
shrubs, lush in growth and rich in hues,
gathered groups as varied and as picturesque
as the world can show. Greeks,
Armenians and Copts, differing in dress
and pdrt, mingled with grave, sedate
Turks and stolid faced Arabs, sinewy
and bare of limb. Here and there Jews
in their oriental garb moved quietly
among Syrians and native fellaheen;
while stiffly uniformed regulars of the
khedive's army strolled around with
picturesque Arnaouts, the white, full
skirts beneath their braided jackets
tightly bound by the sash ever ornamented
with the double rows of pistols.
Nearer, around the principle cafe, the
| groups were European, yet varying in
i style and dress?Italian, Greek and
| French merchants' families, dotted with
occasional Americans, mostly of the
nouveaux riches, and a goodly sprinkling
of unmistakable English; and for the
delectation of this group the garrison
band performed at intervals the national
airs of all nations.
Over the whole scene babeled the hum
, of many voices, cut by the cries of the
: venders of refreshments, and bv an occa
| sional laugh, invariably coming from
j the foreign groups.
For your oriental is sedate and seldom
j yields to merriment of any sort, a smile
being unusual and a laugh considered
| indecorous.
Lady Martindale had been silent longer
, than her wont Suddenly she looked up
! at Latour and said:
"Does not this carry you home?"
"Scarcely," he replied, with a laugh.
I "Were I asked to name the spot I had
j seen most un-American I should say the
I Ezbekieh."
"Not American, perhaps," Edith an!
swered, "but Creole. Two years ago
j Martindale and I were in New Orleans
' at carnival time, and of course we did
' the French market Only at the antipodes
do extremes meet, and nowhere else
than here have I seen such varied types
of men and women, such differing complexions
and so many toagued a babble.
These fellahs and Nubians replace your
negroes and mulattoes; the high Turks
1 represent the dominant northerners, con|
trolling the government and the business;
while these Copts and Egyptians
?*??? vrvVirv novor nllflTlffA tin
j UIO J UUl VlCViVO) nuv uwiv* w?v~?0w
! derauysky."
"You are a singular woman," the man
i answered, with the easy freedom of old
I friendship. "To what your sex usually
lend their eyes you give your ears and
brains as well. I have 'done' the Ezbekieh
with lords and ladies, with savants
from nearly every country in Europe
and with many an American, and
never before have I heard such a suggestion."
"Familiarity, you know," she said,
| with her rare smile. "But this wonder!
ful adopted mother of yours has recalled
| your natural one to me a dozen times,
i though I never spoke of it before."
j "There certainly is something in what
you say," Latour answered, falling into
her mood. "The different quarters of
Cairo, confining the different nationaliI
ties, do suggest Frenchtown and the
i eastern district."
"And yonder," she said seriously, the
i graceful arm sweeping toward the Nile,
i "is the antipodal first cousin of your
! Mississippi."
' "By Jove! Lady Edith," Latour cried,
"1 believe you are making note.; for your
book upon Egypt. But there is strong
analogy between the rivers. Only note
a difference," he added moro lightly.
"With the Arab nature's beneficence is
joyously hailed and utilized; we Christians,
at home, dam the mud?in both
senses; forcing it to bar out commerce
instead of enriching our fields."
"Attempts to coerce nature are never
fully successful," the woman answered,
looking dreamily at the others of their
party. "I see proof every day in England.
There it is a curious study to
watch the results of transplanting buds
from the American forcing house into
that social garden of Eden tho British
aristocracy."
"Doubtless," Latour answered frankly.
"But all our women are not fitted
for that transplanting as you were."
"As I was!" There came the old time
i darkening into the brown eyes raised to
j his, but behind it a something which
I he could not read. "As I was? Oh, how
! little men read us! How little we understand
ourselves!"
There was an awkward pause. Latour
thought of a hundred things in tho brief
interval; but not one of them would do
at all to answer her strango speech. Her
eyes were fixed upon tho ground. Without
raising them she said rapidly, with
suppressed vehemence:
"My old friend, I can say truthfully
that not only was I less fitted to find
happiness in outward success than most
| other slaves of that harem of convenance,
but, had I then known myself at
all, I should have starved beforo I became
one of the western odalisques!"
j Latour stared at the beautiful woman
by his side in much wonderment. Like
lightning his memory reverted to that
long summer, when they had wandered
about "Flirtation," she already the thorough
woman of society, he the gauche,
untried cadet. How different, yet how
i little changed, 6he seemed now to his
more perceptive eyes?all the traits of
! her grand face toned, but not matured,
i by time, the always lissome figure devel|
oped into absolute perfection, without
one suspicion of overfulness!
Never before, even in tho close intimacy
of the renewed past, had the
physical woman so attracted him .-is
now, sitting under the palm, with the
clinging folds of her rich gown suggest|
ing those perfect lines, seen only in the
| taper feet peeping beneath it, the long,
firm hands lying listless in her lap.
Never beforo had the menial woman
been so dazzlingly turned upon him as
; now. And there was suppressed sadness
I in her tone, spite or the hitter worus?a
i world of feeling growing in the eyes into
: which he looked. That nameless thrill
of feminine contact?softer than the
mesmerist's spell, more dangerous than
the serpent charm?dryw about the man,
closer and more resistless.
There was nothing awkward in the
silence now, yet it seemed unbearable to
j him. He spoke as men often do, so
moved?at random:
"1 never dreamed you were sentimental!"
"I never was sentimental," she answered
slowly. "No; even when, onco
in my life, I knew that I?loved!"
She raised her eyes full to his. They
glowed in their black depths with something
which might be the memory of a
dead passion, might bo its living and
burning reality. Hut, as the eyes dropped
quickly, the voice was uumoved in
i its rich music that added:
"Had 1 been sentimental I had never
\ been his?wife!"
"But?you seem so happy together!"
As his words sounded on his own ear
] Latour felt that the cavalry colonel was
floundering, deeper than the cadet had
ever done.
Vr
English"?she pat bitter emphasis upon
the words?"are so different from the
Egyptians. We hide our skeletons. Be*
sides, it would be a triumph for the
stately and bloodless automatons recognised
by her gracious majesty annually
as the Martindale dowager peeresses to
suppose that I was unhappy."
"I do not understand"? La to or began
abruptly; but she answered before be
finished:
"Certainly you do not Men never do,
as ! told you before the Sphinx today;
but 1 am not unhappy in the least?
about that I am only dreadfully weary
of it all?the forms, the boredom and the
acting."
"And he suspects?" His voice wiijs
? ? * - i i fit.
eager, ana ne le&nea lowara ner with
his old Creole impetuosity. "No,
be does not suspect," she answered
rather wearily. "He knows. 1
told him in Paris, six weeks ago, that a
quiet separation and a residence abrofsd
might be pleasanter to as both."
"And he refused! No man coold give
you up without more reason!" Latour
said with ill suppressed vehemence.
"Yes, he loves me, and he knows
' he will have no more reason. The
seventeenth Lady Martin dale respects
Edith -Vhn' tier Htlysto too much ever to
forfeit her good opinion."
She turned away her face, the same
expression on it as when, ten years before,
she sat with him by -the Hudson,
waiting for the words that never came.
The lines of that face were firmer now,
a set determination about the lijjM.
Suddenly the eyes, darkened near to
blackness, glowed with a passionate
yearning in them. In the deep shadow
between them his hand rested lightly,
tremulously upon hers.
"You know my past," she said low
and sadly, not moving her face; "a
motherless girl, foster reared by society,
with an old name and a false position to
support. What was I but?an adventuress?
No, do not deprecate the ugly
word. It is God's truth. I had to buy
my future?unless destiny could be reversed,
and the man I worshiped caired
for me! And to buy it I had only?myself!"
Lord Martindale, the British banker,
and Sir Roger moved toward them, benpnt.h
the nalms. Lndv Martindale drew
on the long glove she had removed. Her
voice was the usual one as she still looked
toward the others and said quietly:
"I have found that women who marry
for independence are like states that
1 combine for it. Neither get it without
j ?a revolution!" .
The three Englishmen were very near,
I almost within earshot, as she rose, adding:
"Yes, I was an adventuress then.
Now I am worse; I am a failure, Adrionl"
She spoke his name without emphiisia,
but it thrilled his ear like music. His
heart beat faster than it ever had in all
their "Flirtation" days. A dull sense of
wonderment was about his brain?a
query sounding in it, if he had really
been fit to comprehend her in all those
wasted days of the long ago?if really he
comprehended himself now!
And once more, as the others reached
them, he muttered to himself:
"Is it ldsmet?"
[to be continued next week.]
piiscdlnnfous pending.
THE LITTLE BOY'S TROUBLE.
t *' 1 * ? yt.l ?v?*? iaiiai?a
1 UlOUglU WUUIl xu leunicu my icucm
That all my troubles were done;
Hut I find myself much mistaken?
They only nave just begun.
Learning to read was awful,
But nothing like learning to write;
i I'd be sorry to have you tell it,
But my copy-book is a sight.
The ink gets over my fingers;
The pen cuts all sorts of shines,
And won't do at all as I bid it;
The letters won't stay on the lines,
But go up and down and all over,
As though they were dancing a ilg,
They are there in all shapes and shies,
Medium, little und big.
There'd be some comfort in learning
If one can get through; instead 1
Of that, there are books awaiting
! Quite enough to craze my head.
There's the multiplication table
And grammar, and?oh, dear me!
There's no good place for stopping,
When one has begun, I see.
Mv teacher says, little by little
to tho mountain top we climb ;
It isn't all done in a minute
But only a step at a time.
She savs that all the scholars,
All the wise and learned men,
Had each to begin as I do;
And that's so?where's my pen ?
'SOCKLESS JERRY."
Everybody lias heard of Jeremiah
Simpson, familiarly known as plain
"Jerry," or "Sockless Jerry," congressman
elect from Kansas. When he
takes his seat in congress, he will be
the most strikingly unique character
that has figured in that body since the
days of Davy Crockett, and it is doubtful
if even Crockett was more singularly
quaint or original. Simpson is a
plain spoken, uneducated, horneylianded
tiller of the soil. He is possessed
of an unusual amount of plain,
hard sense; is as true as steel and as
honest as the gold which he hates.
He is not a politician, and has never
sought olficc, but owes his present position
to the confidence of his fellow
! Alliancemen. They nominated him in
| secret caucus, insisted on his accept,
ing the nomination, and elected him to
; the office by an overwhelming majorj
ity, and altogether not so much as $300
' was spent in his election,
i Simpson is a native of New York
I State, having been born in Oneida
| county, in 1S48. His parents were
poor, and when a boy be was required
to do an unusual quantity of bard
; work. He became discouraged and'
| ran away to become a sailor 011 the
J great lakes. Upon the breaking out
! of the war he volunteered 011 the Fedej
ral side, but after about three months
was mustered out of service 011 account
j of sickness. He then returned to the
I great lakes and became captain of a
j vessel, and continued as a mariner un;
til 1S7S. In the winter of 1H77, his
vessel, the James H. Ilutler, was wreck I
ed, but t>v bis heroic conduct the crew
; was saved from drowning,
j The following year Simpson deterI
mined to become a farmer and located
! in Kansas. He met with hut inditler!
cut success, and finally, on account of
j the ill-health of his wife, moved to the
i town of Medicine Lodge, and served
| for a time as city marshal.
About this time it happened that the
| farmers of the Seventh Kansas district,
i the largest district in the United States,
| wanted a candidate for congress. They
wanted some one, however, who was
( not seeking the ollice, and finally een
tered 011 Simpson. The ltepuhlicnns,
j who had put up Col. James It. llallow;
ell of Wichita, one of the most able
lawyers and politicians in the State,
looked upon the matter as a joke, but
Jerry accepted and went to work,
i In his speeches he would contrast
j his condition with that of his oppoI
nent. lie said he was unable to appear
before his audiences like Col. Hal1
iowell, with silk stockings on, or indeed
with any stockings at all, except
I those of the natural bull'presented by
. his mother. Then he would take off
; his boot and display a sockless foot.
Immediately the air would be filled
with shouts of approval, and an avalanche
of hats. Jerry was accused of
illiteracy, and it was said that he spellJ
ed the name of his own town asuMnid|
son Lodge." In answer to the charge,
j he said he had no use for a man who
j could not spell a word in more than one
: way. As the campaign progressed.
{ Jerry's strength grew until finally the
J enthusiasm of his constituents knew
no bounds. Finally, when the votes
| were counted, it was ascertained that
the majority of the sockless candidate
ran way up into the thousands.
It is said that no man ever had such
I a strong personal following. For a
ICW uojro iui.vn.UB ,
result seemed to be involved in doubt.
Every sort of rumor was in circulation,
and among others a report that Jerry .
was being counted out. At this the
farmers mounted their horses, shouldered
their guns, and swore that 8ockless
Jerry should go to congress. When
the later returns came in, however,
Simpson's majority was swelled to
such proportions as to remove all
doubt of his election.
In Simpson's district there are 70,000
voters, and in the convention by which
he was nominated there was no lawyer,
only two men with white collars, and
none with white shirts.
Simpson is an uncompromising advocate
of the free coinage of silver. He
said that there was not gold enough in
J Wt. nf
tne worm w an mo ucmjrcu wom< w
the people, much less to ftrrnish an adequate
circulating medium, which
should not be less than fifty dollars
per capita. While it may be true that
a farmer can buy as much with a gold
dollar as he ever could, it costs him at
least three times more of his products
to get the dollar than it ever did before.
Last year, Kansas corn, which cost
twenty-one cents to raise, sold at thirty-seven
and a half cents. It was
cheaper than coal, although the coal
miners are starving to death.
Simpson advocates government control
of railroads as well as every other
Alliance measure, and as it is believed
that he will develop into a powerful
champion of the farmers in the halls
of congress, his sayings and doings in
the coming session will be watched
with unusual interest.
THE CENTRAL ASIA COTTON RECKON.
Mr. John S. Scott of liars Bluff,
Florence county, was employed by
the Russian Foreign Trade Company
about two years since to go to Central
Asia for the purpose of instructing the
natives in the art of cotton growing
according to American methods. He
was interviewed a few days ago, and
we make a few extracts from his account
of his observations and labors
in that far-away country. .
He was stationed at Sarmacand,
where the company had a farm of 700
fT1?Dnoalano u/flM crlir*
ncrea. iwu yuuug uwdwus nv>v e..
en him as assistants to be instructed
how to plant cotton. He found that
the cotton was cultivated in the rudest
manner and with the rudest implements.
The seed were sowed broadcast,
and the land cultivated with
wooden plows. He also found the
native species of cotton much inferior
to the cotton of this country. He carried
a quantity of American cotton
seed, and found that the common upland
cotton was best suited to that
climate, which greatly resembles that
of middle Carolina. The natives were
averse to any progressive innovation,
and it was with difficulty he could?get
them to use the improved American
agricultural implements he introduced.
The soil he fbund very fertile and capable
of producing large crops with the
aid of irrigation, but without it the
yield is not large.
American gins and presses are in use
and the cotton is pressed into bales of
about 350 pouhds each. The cotton is
more carefully handled, and as a result
reaches the market in a better condition
than does American cotton.
-- hi .J J
The country is tniCKiy semeu auu
has many populous cities, all of which
have garrisons of Russian troops. Justice
is administered by military courts,
and he praises the kindness and leniency
with which the natives are treated.
The inhabitants of the cotton belt
are of the Mongolian race, and are a
shiftless and indolent people, averse to
I work or innovation of any kind. They
are content to live in the same mauner
as did their forefathers, hundreds of
years ago. They are to be commended
for one thing, however, they confine
themselves to drinking tea, leaving
I strong drink entirely alone,
i The South need have no fear of com:
petition from Central Asia, for the
country is so densely populated that
| it will always require a greater portion
j of it to be planted in breadstuff's, leavt
ing but a small area to be devoted to
: the production of cotton. ~ Mr. Scott
seems to be well pleased with his sojourn
in the far east, but still thinks
South Carolina the best country to live
in.
A Curious Movement.?The inhabitants
ot the sleepy village ofWilmette,
Illinois, were astonished not very long
ago to find an enormous elm tree standing
in the middle of their priifcipal
i street. It had been moved along the
highroad, and was being conveyed to
Graceland Cemetery, where it was to
be planted over the grave of Mr. J. H.
Lathrop of Chicago. A rather romar.j
tic story is told about the reason for
I the transportation of so large a tree.
I It was said that while Mr. Lathrop and
j a friend were out shooting about two
j years ago, they stopped to take lunch
| under the spreading limbs of an enor|
mous elm. They stood admiring the
j tree, and finally entered into a com1
pact that upon the death of either, the
j tree was to l>e transplanted to the
! grave of the deceased at the expehse
j of the survivor. Unfortunately, there
is no reason to believe that there is any
j truth in the story, as Mr. Lathrop was
not a sportsman. He knew the tree,
j took a fancy to it, and made up his
j mind that he would be buried under
I its branches. To that end he provided
I a fund of $10,000 in his will for the reI
moval of the tree from the forest where
'! it stood to the cemetery, a distance of
I twelve miles. At the time when the
| photograph which was published was
, taken, the tree had been moved five
| miles without accident, save the sad
fate which met one of the laborers, who
was crushed to death beneath it. A
force of thirteen men is employed, and
the expense of removal so far has been
$2,000.
' A- hole has been chiseled through
i the tree about ten feet from the ground,
j and through this has been passed a
* * * * * t - A?V* Alt
| steel oar, wiucn projt*c-i? mi cuuugu
either side to hear upon the heavy
i timber braces which support the tree
in an upright position. Wire guy
; ropes are attached to staples driven in
| the limbs, which serve as a further supi
port. The roots are carefully wrapped
: up to protect them from freezing.
: The tree is about seventy-five feet
j high and seven feet in circumference.
j Tim Worm in the Cigarette.?
! The worst trouble that cigarette dealj
ers have to contend with is the tobac|
co weevil. It is a new insect, or at
: least it was a few years ago, when it
; appeared at leading cigarette factories
. in the South and bid fair to ruin the
I business. It was the only insect, so
| far as known, except the tobacco worm,
| that could thrive 011 tobacco, and 110
insect powder had the least effect 011
it. One or two factories in Richmond
were, some years ago, compelled to
change their quarters to get rid of the
weevils. They finally succeeded, but
I every little while a big lwx of cigaj
rcttes is found spoiled, the insects hav1
ing bored it through in every direction.
I They seem to prefer cigarettes as places
, to deposit their eggs, and if any one
perceives a strange taste or smell in a
i cigarette he is smoking, just let him
1 stop, pull it to pieces and ascertain
whehter or not he is smoking tobacco
bugs.?Interview in St. Louis I)emo;
crat.
One of the speakers at the Epis1
copal congress in Philadelphia, described
an agnostic as a man who professes
; to know nothing, but who gets angry
if you believe him. The definition has
| been given before, but it is so true that
i it is worth keeping in view.