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The Denison Review
E. F. TUCKER, Publisher. DENISON, IOWA. QUITE TOO SWEEPING. There was once a woman so woefully n»at That she swept her whole family Into the street. She lectured on tidiness, day after day, Till the children ran off to the neighbor's to play. And, sometimes, the "lord of the manor" would roam Trom his beautiful house which waa never a home. 'Twas a! splendid expression of beauty and art, But it did not possess home's one requi site, heart. But this woman worked on with her brush and her broom, "With her servants she battled through room after room Bhe waxed and she polished her beautiful floors Till her friends hardly ventured inside of her doors. Her carpets so velvety one would refuse To walk on, until he had dusted his shoes Her chairs all so tidied, without and within. That to sit on .them seemed little less than a sin. Her children had toys which they never could spread O'er immaculate floors nor could cookies or bread Be eaten where crumbs might be scat tered about, For her house was like "wax-work" with in and without. Of dust, just the least little Innocent bit Would bring on something akin to a fit And a tidy or picture a trifle awry Could never escape her most diligent eye. Her children grew up and they hurried away As soon as they could, scarcely caring to stay •Where brooms were a-whisking they sighed for a nest, Still neat, but inviting a spirit of rest. And the day when the last of her little ones left, And the home of their smiles was forever bereft, She said, while for dust she still searched up and down: •"They know I'm the finest housekeeper in town." •»-Nlxon Waterman, in Good Housekeep ing. SPANISH PEGGY A STORY OF YOUNG ILLINOIS By Mary Hartwell Cathcrwood Copyright, 1G99, by Herbert 8. Stone &Co CHAPTER II.—CONTINUED. "No. But he would rob her of the last piece and leave her to starve. He got much that belonged to her people." "Have you put Peggy's money where he cannot find it?" "It's in a safe place." "Has he ever made any attempt to carry her off?" "Me no let him make attempt Me watch." "As a relative, he might prove that lie had a right to guardianship if he were a fit person." "What a white man want he can take from an Indian!" "No, Shickshack, you stand your .ground and figlit him. If he troubles you again in this community count on me for all the help I can give. Every •decent man in New Salem would take your part." Shicl,-shack's face relaxed from sternness to satisfaction. "Such men as you and the young chief Yates and the chief Lorimer make in Indian want to live ^with white jien." The tavern directly across the street lad its windows open to let in the soft spring night air. At intervals a chorus of bullfrogs came faintly across the dark from where the Sangamon, ^swelling with freshets, rose frothing yeastily toward its brim. As Peggy hopped on her crutch around the tavern she could see a white fog float ing over Rock creek in the valley, like fairy linen spread to bleach by star light. One of Rutledge's deer-hounds loped up from the stable down the slope to bay at* her, and recognizing "the intruder, drew back at once with greyhound's sensitive apology. Near the east side of the house stood a log hand-mill, one end being 'firmly planted in the ground, the other hollowed by burning and scraping. ,.The pestle, hanging from a long pole weighted like a well-sweep, was a knot of hard wood spiked with nails, and had a crossbar handle. In this prim itive mortar parched corn could be readily pounded to meal. A deerskin 'was stretched and fastened snugly •over the top to keep grains in when -/the mill was in use, and litter out when it stood idle. Peggy caught hold of the sweep and lifted herself to a •Beat on the hand-mill. She could nee, "through a deep embrasure of logs, the itutledge family at home. The tavern windows were movable sashes, with the tough oilad paper like transparent .«kin laid firmly upon them. Part of •A tree smouldered crimson without dame in the white clay chimney. Shickshack's wife never allowed more than one candle lighted in his house. Mrs. Rutledge drew tallow tapers out «f candle molds and filled a six branched candelabrum of old Knglish eilver. It stood on a table sunounded by the children at their tasks, and the father, reading a paper, brought in the weekly mail. Tho younger girls were sewing Ann sat at the flax wheel. "The Rutledge girls can't say I'm tagging anybody now, because I'm not tagging," breathed Peggy. "But goody! I can watch them through the window!" The most desirable thing iu the world was to be lovely. She looked at Ann Rutledge, to whom hearts were •j]""* s'sht. An ungraceful move ment seemed impossible to Ann. There was no angle in the lines of her tall, «upple body. Her deep blue eyes some times turned golden in moments of happiness. Unconscious that any out sider watched her, she lifted them and smiled at darkness through the open window. The passes of her hands as she spun and the sweetness of life expressed in her face brought a sob up Peggy's throat. "I'll never be like her," whispered Peggy. "I'm a peg-legged Spaniard,! little for my age, and ugly. I can't spin. I can't sew. Sally says squaw clothes are good enough for me, and Shickshack has to cut them out, and we piece them together as well as we can. He's done it ever since we left, his people and have had no Indian women to help us. I can't read like Ann Rutledge does. If I could even knit I could make stockings for Anty wine and Shickshack. They are the only men in New Salem that have to keep on wearing neips wrapped around their ankles for stockings." She set her teeth together so the grating was audible. Something stirred behind her, like one of the hounds creeping near, but she paid no attention to it. A blanket dropped over her head. Peggy fought it with both hands, hearing the crutch that had laid across her knees roll to the ground. This was the last sound she heard. Scream ing in the muffling folds, she felt her self dragged off the hand-mill and carried away. CHAPTER III. Ann Rutledge heard through the open window Peggy's muffled cry and struggle, and ran to the door. By star-, light it was barely possible to see a shadow fleeing from the hand-mill but Antywine La Chance, in pursuit of it, passed across the bar of light, a lithe, long-bodied and long-limbed shape, his uncovered blond hair flying back from a face cut like the high-bred features of a French noble. He bounded by the hand-mill and crossed a fence at the foot of the garden. When Antywine thought he was about to overtake the object down the ravine, a scamper of horse's hoofs sounded through the valley. Peggy's captor had left a horse ready for flight. Instead of making south* eastward for the Rock creek bridge and the road to Springfield, he rounded the bluff and the village, and was evi dently striking toward Beardstown. The western continuation of New Salem street, stretching across the prairies until it met and curved with bluffs along the Sangamon, was the route to Beardstown, which stood at the junc tion of the Sangamon with the Illi nois. Light-footed as a deer, scarcely paus ing to think, Antywine with inherited instinct turned east toward the river, though it was the direction opposite that in which Peggy was carried. A boat could be found at the mill. The river was high and running swiftly. By taking advantage of the unusual current he might reach the bluff road as soon as a horse floundering across the mud of the prairies would be able to reach it. What he would then do afoot he did not attempt to foresee. There was a small settlement at the mouth of Rock creek called Wolf. Oxen were more plentiful than horses in Wolf, as New Salem yet Antywine had one passing flash of determination to go there and demand a horse. But breathless with haste, he plunged through naked woods and down tho terraced bank of the Sangamon, sliding on dead leaves in his descent, straight to the mill. The boat was tied above the dam. He pushed out before he thought of the dam, half covered by swelling water and roaring across the width of the Sangamon. Antywine was never more alive than when his feet were planted in a boat. He came of a line of voy ageurs who had threaded Canadian rapids lime out of mind. Although his later years had been spent in Belle ville, of£ great stream courses, his in born dexterity was too much a part of him to be forgotten. There was no time for thought. He swooped down the curve poised in the stern of his boat, laughing aloud at the shock, which nearly swamped him. The boat ran without direction, making for partly submerged trees while he bailed with his hands. Antywine stuck out an oar for a rudder, and turned his craft into the racing current. So, baling with one hand and steering with the other, he got under way, and was soon able to sit on the bench, fit the oars into rowlocks, and pull with the racing force which spun him along. Branches and logs menaced his dim course. The shores were black. Froth spots like white money appeared and disap peared around him with phosphoric swiftness. Not many miles down was the fork of the Sangamon, where the stream turned toward the Illinois. Beards town, by prairie and river-bluff route, was nearly 40 miles from New Salem. Frost was out of the ground, and a bottomless trail would delay the most hurried rider. The scalloped bank, ascending and descending in serated cliff and hollow, seeming to swim past Antywine, finally curved away from a wider current and he made for shore through drift. He drew the boat out, and left it beached above the rising water. There was no sound abroad in all that void darkness except the Sanga mon's low note and the intermittent cry of frogs. He thought of slough3 on the Beardstown road and of hun gry wolves infesting the night. Star light had become lost in thickening mist, and as Antywine pushed on he felt the sting of rain in the face. He tried to distinguish a track which ought to darken the pallid turf near this place, nnd set out in the direc tion of Bonrastown. He heard at his left the suction of horse feet in mud. It came nearer, and he braced himself to spring at the bridle, if he had been so fortunate as thus to intercept Peggy's captor. But two horses instead of one. plunged up ftoin a slough, and swept past h7m in a tearing race toward Beardstown. "Shio^sliack and Sieur Abe," thought Antywine. He shouted after them, but they did not hear him. There was so little travel at that season he felt sure these riders were in pursuit of Peggy, and comforted, he followed lightly on, keeping to the spongy dead grass by the roadside. The humid forest stretching from the bank of the Sangamon still darkened his way with skeleton trees. He passed an empty cabin which he had seen once before when hunting deer. The rain now began to pelt. Though he had lived so long among English-speaking people at Belleville that their language had become in a measure his own, Antywine never found himself able to part with buck skins. The hunting shirt was some times exchanged for one of linsey, but buckskin breeches, molding his supple limbs down to his moccasins, he al ways wore, making them himself, as his father had done before him. In different to weather, he stepped on through darkness and was within hand's reach of an unsteady object before he saw it. Antywine gave a laughing shout to scare a wolf and followed it by an ex clamation. He lifted the toppling fig ure in his arms and ran back with it to the empty cabin. Peggy had a blanket around her, but she was wet and cold and seemed partially stunned. The puncheons or split logs which floored the cabin sagged inward as if a sill had rotted BUT TWO HORSES INSTEAD OF ONE. PLUNGED Ul3 FROM A SLOUGH AND SWEPT PAST HIM IN A TEAR ING RACE TOWARD BEARDSTOWN. at the farther side, and the chimney was a ruin upon its own hearth. Per haps wolves or wild hogs made this place a lair. Antywine had not»his tinder box with him. It was impossi ble to get a light. The fallen door he dragged aside from its opening and made a seat for Peggy. "Stay here, sweetheart," spoke Anty wine, using an English word which he did not quite understand, but trans lated in his own mind as "little one." He made the circuit of the walls, kicking his way in the dark, satisfy ing himself that no beast housed with them. Then he sat down on the door where he could shelter Peggy from the wind. "Are you hurt, sweetheart?" Peggy found her voice with a laugh. "Goody! you've come, Antywine! I was trying to walk without my crutch when you picked me up. I had to hop." "Ilow you happen where I find you?" "I don't know. The horse stumbled and fell down, and maybe I was pitched on my head. This blanket was round me so tight that I fought to get my mouth and nose and hands out. It seemed like there were a dozen horses racing, and I thought they would all run over me. But when I got up I was beside the road, and could just hear the mud splashing away off." "Who is it that steal you?" "Of course, it must have been that Pedro Lorimer rrfan, though I couldn't see him, and only heard his voice when he spoke to the horse. He threw a blanket over me and made me ride on the horse's neck, and I'm-so little and lamo I couldn't help myself. Are you cold, Antywine?" "No," he answered, with a Cana dian's indifference. But Peggy gave him a corner of the blanket and bade him draw it around his shoulders, which he did. The rain beat upon shingles and spouted from the cabin eaves. There was snugness in being housed after so much anxiety and exertion. "We wait here." The boy laughed quietly to himself. "Shickshack say to Sieur Abe Lincoln, 'Antywine, he is nothing but a squaw.' But I flnd you, and Shickshack have not." "Did he call you a squaw?" "Me, yes: he call me that." "You are rike a woman, Antywine," said Peggy, after considering. "I want you to be like a woman." "Tonnerre! Why?" "Because you are like one." Antywine turned this illogical rea son in his mind. "How can we go home, Antywine?" "We wait," he replied, "until Shick shack and Sieur Abe come back. They ride the horses you think will run over you, and they not see you in the dark. They chase the man to Beards town." "Are you sure?" "I think so." Peggy's mind at once turned back to New Salem. "I wonder what Sally will do when we get home." "It is that woman that make a squaw of me," said Antywine. "Since my father marry her she has been worse than a loup-garou. I not mind the fist or tbe stick—babl—but her evil eye, and the beard nn hfir chiti—sifnts! 1 am crawl all over! It is not healt'y to be scai all the time! I wear a charm against her. When she take Shick shack I think I will go to my father's peop' in Canada. But if I do she will have nobody but you when she is en rage. And see what is done to you when we are but out of the house, sweetheart!" Peggy busied herself in silence and threw an object from her which bouhd ed among the chimney ruins. "I am not going to be a peg-leg any mor«." she announced. "I'll not Sttrap that wooden leg to my knee agaiu." "But you not able to walk," said Antywine. "I carry you," he added, in afterthought. "Shickshack will take me on tha horse when he comes. It's so ugly. Don't you think a peg-leg is ugly, Antywine?" "I have not consider," he responded adding, with French grace, "not any thing that belong to you is ugly." "My mouth," suggested Peggy. "It will not shut." "It is like the wild plum," said Antywine, "when the white bud is just break through." Though they had been housemates almost a year, Peggy and Antywine felt that they were just discovering each other. The tall, silent lad had once in awhile ventured on some kind ness to the girl. There was between them the whimsical sympathy of com panions in misery. "And I am so little," continued Peggy, after a silence. "People think I am only ten years old. Ann Rutledge is large and beautiful." "Mam'selleAnn Rutledge," responded Antywine, "is too large to be carry. You are not too large to be carry." "But I want to be," insisted Peggy. "Me, I think you will grow," con ceded Antywine, indulgently. "Do you think I will always ba lame?" "I not know. The doctor in Belle ville cannot say." "The doctor in Belleville put that peg-leg on my knee. Sometimes I think if I try to use my leg, Antywine, it will grow stronger. But I have to hop yet when Sally takes my crutch from me." "Shickshack think, and me, I think too, she have bring that lameness on you." "I never contradicted her when she told him it was a fall but she knows when she struck me and how it hurt Don't tell him, Antywine. Shickshack is so good." "She not fool me," said Antywine. "I think now I will give you my charm to keep off evil." "What is it?" He took her hand in the darkness and laid a small image on the palm. She knew it was something which their religion taught them to venerate. ITo Be Continued.] CHARITABLE RICH, POOR M. D. Wealthy Women Drought Patients to PonnilcsR Medic to Be Treated for Nothing:. "In my six months of small-town practice I learned many other things, and none more puzzling than a certain aspect of the charity of the rich," says the author of "The Autobiography of a Woman Doctor" in Everybody's Mag azine. "A number of the women there devoted much time to the poor, and one of their good offices was to bring these to me (often in their -carriages) and get me to treat them for nothing. I was desperately poor myself, having others to help as well as my own liv ing to make, and I confess my spirit re belled sometimes when these prosper ous and well-fed philanthropists pat ted themselves for presenting my time, strength and knowledge to their pro teges. I remember one case in partic ular, when I was called up on a bitter winter night by an Italian who could not speak a word of English and fol lowed him two miles through the snow, where I worked without help or convenience of any kind till ten the next morning, to go home utterly spent and the consciousness of hav ing saved-a life was made a trifle bit ter by the picture of the lady patroness who had donated my services waking from placid sleep to congratulate her self on her good deed. I was humane, but I was also human. She might at least have paid me!" Couldn't SiMire That. In his early days Mr. Tim Heaty, M. P., was a clerk. Fiart a railway clerk at Newcastle, then a mercantile clerk in London, he began to make his mark as London letter writer to the "Na tion." Mr. Parnell gave him his chance by taking him as private secre tary on his American tours in 1879. He is now the keenest member of the na tionalist party, and has had a seat in parliament since 1880. Mr. Healy mar ried a daughter of Mr. T. D. Sullivan, the poet of the Irish parliamentary party. It Is a tale that is told that when leaving his father-in-law's house for the honeymoon he absent-minded, ly picked up Mr. Sullivan's umbrella, "No, no, Tim," shouted T. D., "don't take that! I have five daughters, but only one umbrella!"—London Tit-Blta, A Sufficient Him Sir Ernest Cassel, the London mer chant prince, who gave $1,000,000 toward the campaign against consump lion, has a dry humor, but only oc casionally gives rein to it in business hours. At one period qf the time when le was building up his vast fortune he was annoyed several times by a boy .vho wanted a place in his office. "Did you see that boy, who was jupt In here?" asked Sir Ernest of his offlco boy one day after the persistent appli cant had made another plea for work. "I saw him," said the boy. "What does he want?" "Well." said the mer chant, "he wants your situation, and if 1 ever see him again he will get TRAPPED By TREATY WHY RUSSIA'S BLACK SEA FLEET IS LOCKED IN. ALL EUROPE IS INTERESTED Every Great Continental Power a Party to the Treaty That Keeps the Dardanelles Closed Against Warships. HE key that has seemingly so effectively locked the doors against Russia's Black Sea fleet, and now' prevents it taking any ac-! tive part in the war game in the far east, was the! treaty of Paris, signed March 30, 185G, and which marked the close of the bloody Crimean war in which England and France, as allies of Turkey, had given the ambitious house of Roman off a set-back from which it never fully recovered. The closing of the Dardanelles was a stipulation practically demanded by Russia at this time. Though Turkey had virtually kept them closed to the nations of the world when it was to her interest to do so, Russia had found that the Turkish fortifications offered no resistance to Turkey's allies, and England's navy had played sad havoc with Russian coast cities. The same treaty provided for the demolisliment of Russia's fortifications and arsenals at points on the Black sea, leaving the nation virtually defenseless against any invading force which might be able to attack her in this weak spot, as Turkey was liable to do at any time. The peace of San Stafnna, signed March 2, 187S, and which marked the close of the Russia-Turkish war of 1877, and the secret understanding' in reference to the passage of the Darda nelles forced upon the defeated sultan by the czar, would have virtually un done all that was accomplished by the earlier treaty had not England opposed the settlement between the two coun tries and insisted upon a congress of statesmen representing tlie European nations to pass judgment upon the peace treaty. England went so far at ftv." „ir—-tVi. a it" The hint was sufficient, for the mer chant never saw tbe seat again. E As this congress was participated In by all of the great powers of Europe and as all were parties to the treaty concluded 'there, the passage of -the Black Sea fleet through the Dardanelles even with the consent of Turkey would be an affront to every nation of Europe if they wished: to consider it such. That England would oppose it, even to the extent of a declaration of war, there can be but little doubt, for it would confront her with a new danger for her possessions in .India and the Medi terranean. The narrow straits which connect the Mediterranean with the Sea of Mar mora and the Black sea have played a prominent part in the history of Eu rope from the earliest times. Xerxes with an army estimated by historians at more than 5,000,000, including camp followers, crossed the straits on a bridge of boats at the time orf his dis astrous campaign against the Greeks, 480 B. C. All the land invasions of Eu rope by the Asiatics necessarily fol lowed the same route. The straits were not fortified until the reign of Mohomet IV. in 1059, un der whose direction there was built the castles of Sestos and Abydos on oppo site shores. The building of these cas tles virtually marked the closing of the straits to the commerce and the navies of the world, excepting at the will of Turkey, until the treaty of Paris of 1856 opened them again to the unrestricted passage of merchant ves sels. England felt the strength of the Turkish fortifications in 1807 when she sent a fleet of warships past them to compel the sultan to renounce an al liance he had made with Napoleon, and renew an alliance with England. The Turks were so taken by surprise by the act of England that tht-y did not seriously oppose the entrance ot tilts naval fleet, but when, at the end of a week, the iieet was forced to repass the farts it was only at a great loss ,v to the English. Tlia-e is nothing in Turkey upon which money is so lavishly expended as upon tho fortifications on both sides of those straits. Gen. Miles inspected these fortifications at the time of his visit to Turkey during the Greco-Turk ish war, and says of the iortification3 along the Dardanelles: "For several miles after entering the straits (from Constantinople) there are no forts, the channel being wide and the bunks high but about ten miles from the mouth the stream narrows and s, there is a sharp bend. Here are the most formidable works defending Con stantinople, consisting of ten forts on the European side and five on the Asi atic. All of these forts have been mod ernized and mount the heaviest of re cent guns. After passing this point of the Dardanelles the straits widen again and there are no more fortifications until the mouth is reached. Here again the banks bristle with guns." From the Black sea Constantinople is protected by the fortifications along the Bosphoros. Should the Black sea fleet attempt to pass into the Agean these are the first fortifications they would encounter. Along either bank of this 20 miles of narrow waterway are stretched 17 forts. Some of these are so antiquated as to be comparative ly ussless, but many of them are mod ern and mount heavy ordnance. Some of the older ones date back as far as the fourteenth century. The pictur esque Roumelia Hissar, or Castle of Europe is among the most interesting of all the forts along the Bosphoros, but it is comparatively useless. The Bosphoros, like the Dardanelles, is fa mous in history. Darius with his 700, 000 men crossed here, as did also Xeno phon with his 10,000'men on their re turn to Europe. The fleet which the various interna tional treaties, and the Turkish fortifi cations have locked in the Black sea number among its ships some of the best in the Russian navy. The fleet is alsocomparativelymodern, as it. has all a been built since 18SG, when the first three ships--*were laid down. The fleet consists of three first and live second class battleships, and while not lariie, &&MSS2 1 THE "CASTLE OF EUROPE" ON THE BOSPHORUS. this time as to threaten war upon Rus sia unless these demands were com plied with, and for a time it seemed as though all Europe would become en tangled in one great contest. Russia, seeing herself far outclassed in fight ing strength by the combinations formed against her, finally consented to the calling of a congress, and it met at Berlin on June 13, 1878, with Prince Bismarck as president. The congress settled the many vexed problems con fronting Europe at that time, and among other things left the Darda nelles closed. It was during the ses sions of this congress that the comple tion of a treaty of alliance between England and Turkey was announced, an announcement which played a prominent part in the settlement of the Dardanelles question before the con gress. as modern fleets go, it would give Rus sia a strong fleet for far eastern service if it could be added to the Baltic fleet and what is left of the Pacific fleet. The three first class battleships. Cath erine II., Tchesme and Sinope are mon sters of their kind. Their measure ments are as follows: Displacement, 10,ISO tons length between the perpen diculars, 320 feel: beam, 09 ice': draughl^25 feet. The compound armor belt has a maximum thickness of IS inches, and tho triangular rebout is plated with ten inches. This redoubt, or citadel, is a special feature. It pre sents its base to the bows, and, inas much as two 12-inch 5G ton guns are: coupled en barbette at each of the an gles, the bow fire is exceedingly power ful. The six heavy guns are mounted on tha disappearing guns principle, and only show over the Lop of the redoubt when about to fire. Of the seven six inch guns, four are also disposed for bow fire and three directed astern. Another remarkable vessel in this fleet is the Trisuititelia, which is the heaviest protected ship in the world. Some of the vessels of this fleet are speedy, running from 16 to 19 knots an hour. The Rostislav burns oil for fuel and made 18 knots on her trial trip. Whether or mot this fleet will suc ceed in getting out of the trap in which it is caught by interfiational complica tions is a question that only time can answer, but if it does it should give a good account of itself in the far east, or it will at least prove whether or not the Russians are adepts at naval con struction, for the entire fleet is neces sarily of Russian build. DANIEL CLEVERTON. Leap-Year Episode. "George," began the love-lorn maid, "you have doubtless noticed that, my attentions of late have been more than those of a mere friend. I love you, George, and in asking you to share my lot I—" "Pardon me," interrupted the prac tical George, "but has the lot you wish me to share a good house on :t with all the modern improvements?" —Cincinnati Enquirer. Story of the Supernatural. "Mammy," said Pickaninny Jim, "what does ghosts want to come back to dis yearth foh?" "Dat's a foolish question. Dey kin go whahebber dey wants witout payin* no house rent nor cah fare, an' no body can't shet 'em out. Sometimes I reckons dat glios'es is de only folks dat re'ly enjoys life."—Washington Star.