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1 :-n ",.( Just pair o: pouting Hps, Just two eye* of blue Boo-woo-woo-woo-woo! 1*$ S The Denison Review E. F. TUCKER, Publisher. DENISON, IOWA. PLAY TIME. DV hy should I give up my book Just to play with you? Why should I get down and Poll On the floor with you? Do you think it quite enough lhat you want me to? DoIlies don't appeal to me, I don't care for toya, That's 'cause I'm growed up, you Me Little girls and boys :ii Are supposed to play with them, i\J Never growed up men You 11 be grown yourself some time hat will you do then? .1 expect you'll roll around, All around the floor. For some little baby wee, .• Baby you adore I'm too old to'play with doll*— •', Oh, my Eyes-o'-blue! But I'll never be too old Just to play with you! I will never be too old Just to prance and sing, Or to hold you on my foot While you dip and swing Tijl your yellow mass of curls si Floats out on the air— Look out now! I'm coming down! Aren't we a pair! What will I be first, a dog? Or a train of cars? Shall I be a jumping frog Croaking at the stars? J] No I think I'll be a dog Chasing after you 1 'Look out for me! here I cornel —J. M. Lewis, in Houston Post. v. THE MISSISSIPPI BUBBLE By EMERSON HOUGH Author of "The Story of the Cowboy, The Girl at the Halfway House, Etc. Copyright, 1902, by Eiueraon Hough.) CHAPTER XXXI. THE GREAT PEACE. Of the long and bitter journey from the Iroquois towns to Lake St. George, •down the Richelieu and thence through the deep snows of the Canadian -win ter," it boots little to make mention neither to tell of that devotion of Raoul de Ligny to the newly-rescued lady, -already reputed in camp rumor to be i-pf noble English family. "That sous-lieutenant he Is tete cmontee regarding madame," said Pierre Noir one evening to Jean Breboeuf. "As to that—well, you know Monsieur L'as. Pouf! So much for yon mon ifcey, par' eomparaison." "He is a great capitaine, Monsieur sL'as," said Jean Breboeuf. "Never a better went beyond .the straits." si "But very sad of late." ft\ "Oh, oui, since the death of his friend, Monsieur le Capitaine Pem broke—may Mary aid his spirit!" I "Monsieur L'as goes not on the trail again," said Pierre Noir. "At least not While this look is in his eye." "The more the loss, Pierre Noir but lome day the woods will call to him •again. I know not how long it may be, yet some day Mother Messasebe will raise her'finger and beckon to Monsieur L'as. and say: 'Come, my eon!' 'Tis thus, as you know, Pierre )foir." Yet at length the straggling settle ments at Montreal were reached, and here, after the fashion of the frontier, s«ome sort of menage was inaugurated for Law and his party. Here they lived through the rest of the winter and through the long, slow spring. And then set on again the heats of summer, and there came apace the time igreed upon, in the month of August, or the. widely heralded assembling of the tribes for the Great Peace one cf the most picturesque and significant meetings of widely diverse human be logs, that ever 'took place within the ken of history. They came, tiiese savages, now first s- owning the strength of the invading white men, from all the far and un known corners of the western wilder ness. They came afoot, and with little trains of dogs, in single canoes, in little groups and growing flotillas and vast fleets of canoes, pushing on and on, down stream, following the tide of the fa:« down this pathway of more than a thousand miles. The Iroquois, for once mindful of a promise, came in a com pact fleet, a hundred canoes strong, and they stalked about the island for days, naked, stark, gigantic, contemp tuous of white and red men, of friend and foe alike. The scattered Algon quins, whose villages had been razed by these same savage warriors, came down by scores out of the northern woods, along little, unknown streams, and over paths with which none but themselves were acquainted. From the north, group joined group, and village added itself to village, until a vast body of people had assembled, whose numbers would have been hard to esti mate, and who proved difficult enough to accommodate. Yet farther west, ad ding their numbers to those already gathered, came the fleets of tho driven Hurcns, and the Ojibways, and tho Hiamisi and the Outagamies, and tho Ottawas, the Menominies and the Mas coutins—even the Illini, late objects Of the wrath of the five nations. T-he Whole western wilderness powred forth Its savage population, till all the shores of tho St. Lawrence seemed one vast aboriginal encampment. These massed at the rendezvous about the puny set tlement of Montreal in such numbers that, comparison, the white popu lation seemed insignificant. Then, had there been a Pontiac or a Tecumseh. bad there been one leader of the tribes able to teach the strength of unity, the white settlements of upper America had i/idped been utterly destroyed. l^K\,Z* y* &s& *&&» M**1 r/\ v^ V^7 ,* r' «. _•} t, *T U"? V" VAv^ ^v? £vv 4 f.V^ V- A #, VU-t taught but ancient tribal JeaionMes held the savages apart. With these tribesmen were many prisoners, captives taken In raids all along the thin and straggling frontier farmers and artisans, peasants and sol diers, women raped from the farms of the Richelieu censitaires, and wood rangers now grown savage as their captors and loth to leave the wild life into which they had so naturally grown. It was the first reflex of the wave, and even now the bits of flotsam and jetsam of wild life were fain to cling to the western shore whither they had been carried by the advanc ing flood. This was the meeting of the ebb with the sea that sent it forward, the meeting of civilized and savage and strange enough was the nature of those confluent tides. Whether the red men were yielding to civilization, or the whites all turning savage—this question might well have arisen to an observer of this tremendous spectacle. The wigwams of the different tribes and clans and families were grouped apart, scattered along all the nar row shore back of the great hill, and over the Convent gardens and among these stalked the native French, clad in coarse cloth of blue, with gaudy belt and buckskins, and cap of fur and moccasins of hide, mingling frater nally with their tufted and bepainted visitors, as well as with those rangers, both" envied and hated, the savage coureurs de bois of tlxo far northern fur trade men bearded, silent, stern, clad in breech-clout and leggings like any savage, as silent, as stoical, as hardy on the trail as on the narrow thwart of the canoe. Savage feastings, riotings and drunk enness, and long debaucheries came with the Great Peace, when once the word had gone out that the fur trade was to be resumed. Henceforth there was to.be peace. The French were no longer to raid the little cabins along the Kennebec and the Penobscot. The river Richelieu was to be no longer a red war trail. The English were no longer to offer arms and blankets for the beaver, belonging by right of prior discovery to those who offtered French brandy and French beads. The Iro quois were no longer to pursue a timid foe across the great prairies of the valley of the Messasebe. The Ojibways were not to ambush the scat tered parties of the Iroquois. The un ambitious colonists of New England BUT VERY SAD OF LATE. and New York were to be left to till their stony farms in quiet. Meantime, the fur trade, wasteful, licentious, un profitable, was to extend onward and outward in all the marches of the West. From, one end of the Great River of the West to the other the insignia of France and of France's king were to be erected, and France's posts were to hold all the ancient trails. Even at the mouth of the Great River, forestalling these sullen English and these sluggish English colonists, far to the south in the somber forents and miasmatic marshes, there was to be established one more ruling point for the arms of Louis the Grand. It was a great game this, for which the continent of Amer ica was in preparation. It was a mighty thing, this gathering of the Great Peace, this time when colonists and their king were seeing the first breaking of the wave on the shore of an empire alluring, wonderful, unpar alleled. Into this wild rabble of savages and citizens, of priest and soldier and coureur, Law's friends, Pierre Noir and Jean Breboeuf, swiftly disap peared, naturally, fitly and unavoid ably. "The West is calling to us, Mon sieur," said Pierre Noir one morning, as he stood looking out across the river. "I hear once more the spirits of the Messasebe. Monsieur, will you come?" Law shook his head. Yet two dayo later, as he stood at that veuy point, there came to him the silent feet of two coureurs instead of one. Once more he heard in his ear the question: "Monsieur L'as, will you come?" At this voice he started. In an in stant his arms were about the neck of Du Mesne, and tears were falling .from the eyes of both in the welcome of that brotherhood Which is admitted only by those who have known together arms and darqer and hardship, the toMch of tho hara ground and the of tho wide blue sky. "Du Mesne, my friend!" "Monsieur L'as!" "It is as though you came from the depths of the sea, Du Mesne!" \$aid Law. "And as though you yoursolf arose from the grave, Monsieur!" "How did you know—?" ""Why, eawily. You do not understand the ways ol ttab wilderness, where nev?s travels as fast as in the cities. You were hardly below the loot of Miclilga non before runners from the Illini had spread the news along the Chlcaqua, where I was then ia camp. For the rest, the runnen brought also news of the Big Peace. 1 reasoned \hat the lroquoia would not dare to destroy ate* r^ ssiilis *f their captlT«», that In time the agenta of the government would receive the captives of the Iroquois—that these captive| would naturally come to the settlements on the St. Lawrence, since it was- the French against whom the Iroquois had been at war that having come to Montreal, you would naturally remain here for a time. The rest was easy. I fared on to the straits this spring, and then on down the lakes. I have sold our furs, and am now ready to account to you with a sum quite as much as we should have expected. "Now, Monsieur," and Du Mesne stretched out his arm again, pointing to the down-coming flood of the St Lawrence, "Monsieur, will you come? I see not the St. Lawrence, but the Messasebe. I can hear the voices call ing! Law dashed his hand across his eyes and turned his head away. "Not yet, Du Mesne," said he. "I do not know. Not yet. I must first go across the waters. Perhaps sometime—I can not tell. But this, my comrades, my brothers, I do know that never, until the last sod lies on my grave, will I forget the Messasebe, or forget you. Go back, If you will, my brothers but at night, when you sit by your fireside, think of me, as I shall think of you, there in the great valley. My friends, it is the heart of the world!" "But, Monsieur—" "There, Du Mesne—I would not talk to-day. At another time. Brothers, adieu!" "Adieu, my brother," said the cour eur, his own emotion showing in his eyes and their hands met again. "Monsieur is cast down," said Du Mesne to Pierre Noir later, as they reached the beach. "Now, what think you?" "Usually, as you know, Pierre, it is a question of some woman. It reminds me, Wabana was remiss enough when I left her among the Illini with you. Now, God bless my heart, I find her— how think you? With her crucifix lost, cooking for a dirty Ojibway!" "Mary Mother!" said Pierre Noir, "if it be a matter of a woman—well, God help us all! At least 'tis something that will take Monsieur L'as over seas again." '"Tis mostly a woman," mused Du Mesne "but this passeth my wit." "True, they pass the wit of all. Now, did I ever tell thee about the mission girl at Michilimackinac—but stay! That for another time. They tell me that our comrade, Greysolon du L'hut, is expected In to-morrow with a party from the far end of Superior. Come, let us have the news." "Tous les printemps, Tant des nouvelles," hummed Du Mesne, as he flung his arm above the shoulder of the other and the two so disappeared adown the beach. Dully, apathetically, Law lived on his life here at Montreal for yet a time, at the edge of that wilderness which had proved all else but Eden. Near to him, though in these guarded times guest by necessity of the good sisters of the Convent, dwelt Mary Connynge. And as for these two, it might be said that each but bided the time. To her Law might as well have been one of the corded Sulpician priests and she to him, for all he liked, one of the nuns of the Convent garden. What did it all mean where was it all to end? he asked himself a thousand times and a thousand times his mind failed him of any answer. He waited, watching the great encampment disappear, first slowly, then swiftly and suddenly, so that in a night the last of the lodges had gone and the last canoe had left the shore. There remained only the hurrying flood of the St. Lawrence, coming from the west. The autumn came on. Early in No vember the ships would leave for France. Yet before the beginning of November there came swiftly and sharply the settlement of the questions which racked Law's mind. One morn ing Mary Connynge was missing from the Convent, nor could any o? the sis ters nor the mother superior, explain how or when she had departed! Yet, had there been close observers, there might have been seen a boat dropping down the river on the early morning of that day. And at Quebec there was later reported in the books of the intendant the shipping, upon the good bark Dauphine, of Lieutenant Raoul de Ligny, sometime officer of the regiment Carignan, formerly sta tioned In New France with him a lady recently from Montreal, known very well to Lieutenant de Ligny and his family and to be in his care en voyage to France the name of said lady illegible upon the records, the spelling apparently not having suited the clerk who wrote it, and then for got it in the press of other things. Certain of the governor's household, as well as two or three habitants from the lower town, witnessed the ar rival of this lady, who came down from Montreal. They saw her take boat for the bark Dauphine, one of the last ships to go down the river that fall. Yes, it was easily to be established. Dark, with singular, brown eyes, petite, yet not over small, of good figure— assuredly so much could be said tor obviously the king, kindly as he might feel toward the colony of New France, could not send out, among the young women supplied to the colonists as wives, very many such demoiselles as this otherwiso assuredly all France would have followed the king's ships to the St. Lawrence. John Law, a grave and saddened man, yet one now no longer lading in decision, stood alont- one day atHlie parapet of the great iwk of Quebec, gazing down the broad expanse of the stream below. He was alone except for a little child, a child too young to Unow her mother, had death or dis aster at that time removed the mother. Law took the littlo one up in his arms and gazed haia upon the up turned fac» "Catharine!" he said to himself. "Catharine: Catharine!" W "Pardon, monsieur," said a roMe at his elbow. "Surely I have seen you before this?" Law turned. Joncalre, the ambassa dor of peace, stood by, smiling and ex tending his hand. "Naturally, I could never forget you," said I aw. "Monsieur looks at the shipping," said Joncaire, smiling. "Surely he would not be leaving New France, after so luckily escaping the worst of her dangers?" "Life might be the same for me over there as here," replied Law. "As for my luck, I must declare myself the most unfortunate man on earth, "Your wife, perhaps. Is ill?" "Pardon, I have none." "Pardon, In turn, monsieur—but, you see—the child?" "It is the child of a savage woman," said Law. Joncaire pulled aside the Infant's hood. He gave no sign, and a nice indifference sat In his query: "Una belle sauvage?" "Belle sauvage!" [To Be Continued.) AN AMUSING BREACH. Insubordination en the Part of a Rooster That Brought Speedy Pnnlihment. Gen. Ian Hamilton, now visiting In this country, figures in one of the best campaign stories of the Boer war. The incident happened during the cam paign east of Bloemfontein, says the Philadelphia Ledger, when Hamilton had command of an assorted column, half Canadian, half regular, that com posed the extreme right wing of Rob» ert's army. Gen. Hamilton reviewed the Cana dian infantry one day in a small vil lage for the purpose of telling them they must stop the plundering for which they were so notorious that they had 'earned the nickname of "The Thousand Thieves." The column had just drawn up ana was waiting for Hamilton to begin the review when a ragged rooster ran out from a hut and across the front of the line. A kind of shiver ran through the volunteers. Suddenly a private left the ranks and took after the rooster. Halt!" shouted Hamilton. The soldier ran on. He shortly orer took the rooster and turned back, wringing the neck of the fowl. As ha passed the general he noticed the fierce scowl on his face. The soldier was an Irish boy from Toronto and not easily daunted, but this time he temporized. Throwing the defunct rooster at the general's feet, he said: "There now I'll tache ye t' halt whin the general says so!" History records that the column laughed and the general smiled. Also that the soldier got only two days in "quad" for one of the most barefaced breaches of discipline in the records of the most irregular corps in the army. A STRANGE CURE. llemedy for Consumption War M«dl from a l'eclc of Gar den Snails. Mrs. Wolfe, the mother of the groat general, kept a comprehensive cook ery book, still preserved at Squerries Court, .Kent, says the London News. One of the recipes was for "a good \«a ter for consumption." "Take a peck of garden snails," says the prescription, "wash them in beer, put them in aif oven, and let them stay until they've done crying then, with a knife and fork, prick the green from them, and beat the snails, shells and all, in a atone mortar. Then take a' quart of green earth worms, slice them through the middle, and strew theem with salt then wash them and beat them, the pot being first put into the still with two handfuls of angelico, a quart oi rosemary flowers, then the snails and worms, then egrimony, bears feet, red dock roots, barberry brake, biloney. wormwood, of each two handfuls, one handful of rue-tumoric and on» ounce of saffron, well died and beaten. Then pour in three gallons of milk. Wait until morning, then put in thref ounces of cloves (well beaten), harts horn grated. Keep the still covered all night This done, stir it not. Dis till it with a moderate fire. The pa tient must take two spoonfuls at time.-' SHE WAS GRATEFUL. And Would Demonstrate It b* l'lantiuK Sintllowfr* on 11U Grave. Mr. Brown's business kept him so oc cupied during the daytime that he had little opportunity to enjoy the society of his own children, relates Woman's Home Companion. When ?ome na tional holiday gave him a day of leisure his young son was usually his chosen companion. One ^lay. howover. Mi Brown, reproached by the wistful eye* of his seven-year-old daughter, re versed the order of things, and invitat the little gin to go with him for a loni walk. She v.xs a chy, silent, small person, and during the two hours' stroll not sint'le word could Mr. Brown induce thu little maid to speak, but her shining eyes attested that she appreciated his efforts to amuse her indeed, she fairly glowed with suppressed happiness. Just before they reached home, how ever, the child managed, but only after a tremendous struggle with her inhor ent timidity, to find words to rijtpree* l^i- gratitude. "I'apa, what flower do you like tests'" she asked. "Why, I don't lcaow, my lear—sun flowers, guess." I "Then," cried the little gin, beanun* with gi'Mitude, "that's what I'll plaB« on yooi grave." Y«* frl :ys, &>» yW«ri*.+A Sj4 ft ,VJ. **N«» ,!,M „r «*. *f N^-W^-va ©If? flrotrinre of tlje Entail (EoUpgpH of AntPrira By F^OF. GEORGE A. GATES, President of Pomona College, California. HE word college has a meaning in America different from itsfelf significance anywhere else on earthy If requires a long ex-||f| planation before an Englishman or a German can know whatgfpg an American educator means when he speaks of his college.plf ,y At best they cannot understand it. The American collegc|$|f| began in response to early American needs it remains ba-ff|§ cause it still meets those demands. Otherwise it would have passed on, as is the way of outgrown garments. There has-been no more distinctively formative factor..,..^ in American life than these same colleges. Their product* has gone into the very fiber of the nation's character. The last quarter century has seen somewhat of a reaction to ward universities, largely stimulated by John Hopkins, our first dis-'-t?. tinctive university. That movement, into which our oldest and strongest colleges, have been moving, along with our strongest state universities, was also wise, organic, timely. Quite long enough had America been\'t^ dependent upon Europe for university work. "QW But just in these present years a counter reaction is setting in iiu the minds of American educators toward the small college. There is/^ reason in it and for it. The great universities will grow more and more the "detached" college is not being outgrown nor supplanted. On the" contrary, the best of these are growing at an even rapider rate. The'Vv distinguishing features of the college as contrasted with the university are too valuable to lose from American life. The college at its best is far less exposed to "the tendency to foster a narrowly specialized efficiency^ at the expense of broad and liberalizing culture." American education."^ will not ultimately yield to that subtly fatal temptation. It is just at this point that the American college has found and will retain its own great'-5-' plclCC. The "small college" must not be so small and poor as to be mean, f-f It must be large enough for the "college spirit," and small enough that'A^ that spirit be not impossible through the fact that the men cannot know each other. The touch between institution and student of intimate per- y1 sonal relation is a never-to-be-forgotten chief factor. Personality is' "'\4 the ultimate fact of education, as of all philosophy and life. Some sorts of initiative and leadership, escapable amid larger numbers, one forced upon most students in college. These activities are an invaluable train ing for the wider world. Statistics abundantly show a far larger pro portion of graduates of smaller colleges "doing well," than of larger in- .' stitutions. A Harvard man has recently shown that this is strikingly true/ of his own college, comparing Harvard, the "small college," before' i860, with Harvard "university" since that time. ©or lEqual SUgitts By J. H. WOLFF. Senior Vice-Commander C. A. R. than others in physical and mental endowment, and no law can change|A| this condition. But there is an equality of rights, and that is the whole'f^ basis of the Declaration of Independence. Every man is entitled to the God-given tight to develop whatever^ll powers he may possess, and any obstruction to this right constitutes^ tyranny. Whether a man's color be white or black, whether he is pos-N. sessed of great or small gifts, he is, certainly, "a man for a' that," and the powers with which by the Creator he has been endowed he ought to' be entitled to exercise. This is the whole sum of the principle enunciated by the Declaration^ of Independence. There is no rational attempt to make all men equal in the sense that the wiser and the stronger man as he is created should-^ have no greater advantage in life than the weaker and less efficient man.'i|| Such an attempt is essentially unwise, and if put into practice could have only one effect, namely, that of disintegration and disorganization, But that all men should have the equal right to make the most of themselves, to pursue happiness, and to enjoy life and liberty, who can gainsay? Every attempt that has been made in the world's history to alter this"' principle, to make one race or one section subservient or subjeet to another has eventually failed. And is not this proof of the fact that, in the opinion of the Creator at least, all men are created equal Art of leaping fottttg By DR. GEORGE F. HALL. 100 years and upward now. And yet age of itself is no virtue. Unless one can keep young in looks, feelings, actions and ambitions what pleas ure can there be in merely piling up years I believe that the art of keeping young consists largely in the main-!.'* tenance of a right attitude of the mind on the subject. The great apostle Paul laid down one of the most profound philosophical'truths of the ages when he said• As a man thinketh is he." If a woman con stantly thinks gray hairs and wrinkles she will soon have both in abund-^ ance. On the other hand, if she boldly defies spectacles, powders, paints, stays, wigs, etc., and constantly asserts to her own heart and the whole* world her right to remain young, nine times out of ten she will still be 3 girl at 40 instead of a broken down old woman ready for the grave. If a man will defy old Father Timeby a constant mental and physical declaration of his right to keep young and buoyant he can win in a walk^ There is no use for a nervous collapse at 35 ^r 40. Most men chew too much tobacco, smoke too many cigarettes, drink too much liquor and live too fast every way. Too many mistake reckless dash for strenuous ness. Repose is one of the greatest needs of the hour. Washington was a man of giant purpose and iron will, yet withal a man of magnificent repose. But for a little carelessness which precipitated pneumonia he might have lived to pass the century mark. Sandow advises exercise and cold baths. This is all right as far as it goes. But a regimen which considers only the physical man is worth very little without a pure, strong mind, a clean, honorable life and a ,God-centered souL —wS, & 'ri I 111 Bp® There is no such thingfe as equality except in the|f§| political sense. It isffjf foolish to suppose that|f||.r there can be any equal-|if' ity of mind or of person.pj| Some men are betterH^f In olden times men lived to a great age few died under the century mark unless killed in the battle or the There is no physical rea-^ son, no edict of nature,'™"5 why men should not live chase.