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The herald. [microfilm reel] (Los Angeles [Calif.]) 1893-1900, November 17, 1893, Image 8

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sale will continue: until all goods are: sold ie 4j
| CREDITORS' SAL/ET=H |
g~ Nearly everybody has attended this sale, and still people keep crowding the City of Paris Dry Goods Store. WHY ? Because goods are being sold for less than other »
stores can sell them, and for less than they can be manufactured. BECAUSE this is the largest and finest stock of goods in tbe city ; because the stock represented
is from the best looms of America and Europe ; because NO TRASH, NO AUCTION JOB LOTS are being offered ; because you can save from 40 to 75 per cent on
4L%*~~ . ALL purchases ; because the CASH must be realized, and because every dollar's worth of goods in this establishment must and will be sold. GOODS and PRICES —. —«g
6 have and are telling the story. TODAY will be placed on sale 450 pairs California manufactured White Blankets, all wool; the prices named cannot be duplicated j->
S— ?? in this state, and EVERY PAIR WILL BE SOLD. Those needing this class of goods should call, examine the Blankets and compare them and the prices with rjj —m
O. any other Blanket in this city. The following is a partial list: gj
j"H Mill Price in Case Lots, $5.25; You Buy Them for $4.40. Mill Price in Case Lots, $8; You Buy Them for $6.25. Tfi
H Mill Price in Case Lots, $6.75; You Buy Them for $5.25. Mill Price in Case Lots, $9; You Buy Them for $6.75 —#
|Z; Mill Price in Case Lots, $7; You Buy Them for $5.75. Mill Price in Case Lots, $9.50; You Buy Them for $7.25. jj
£5 Mill Price in Case Lots, $7 50; You Buy Them for $6. Mill Price in Case Lots, $10.50; You Buy Tbem for $8. — m
\W~ £h These prices will continue until every pair is sold. Remember that you can buy Blankets as above stated —for less than manufacturers' prices, and at least 40 per
KpH cent LESS than other merchants charge you. Also look at and get prices of W
% g Comforts, Window Shades, Scrims, Crystal, China and Japanese Silks, * 3jj
\% % Down Pillows, Table Covers, Bed Spreads, Plain Satin and Fancy Novelty Silks, S 3
\W § Table Linen, Napkins, Towels, Sheeting, \ Plain and Changeable Snrahs, - H
rE < Muslins, Prints, Ginghams, Flannels, Lace Cnrtains. Bengalines and Satin Dncbesse, 3 3
S= 1Z If you are looking for DRESS GOODS, see the "Novelty Dress Pattern Aaj aftw . y«r«fal compari..* gold, and g*g.«j£«»^_^fH
m»~ «il ~ 1 . . • ... r j r, ■» g* . is the finest and most complete line or bilks in tne city —and prices that no _ •
tl W Smts," the very latest importation! from Europe, and some of the finest h California will duplicate. The reason is that the creditors <P
that were manufactured for the fall and winter of 93- 94 ■At this sale you mv d m v the ds f . m thafl „
£ q can buy two suits at about the same price you would have to pay others for • Th fi d J mis fortunes of the City of Paris P
*— one. Seeing is believing In plain weaves—berees, Henriettas, Hop Sack- ta 7% j k7 , /ju j *\ • * it. 1 * r
. *Vw q. ~.s . , r - 1 t • n i. j j vV Dry Goods Store have put money (dollars and cents) into the pockets of the
£T mg and Cashmeres-hiss ock is complete, in all shades and qualities purchasing public. Every dollar's worth of goods in this immense estab-
ti Every yard will be sold for less than import price. Make comparisons with fig Went must be sold: Bring your cash and 8 you can get $2 in goods for =3
every $1 in money.
I jCHAS. Mt XTl'i-' MANAGER.| g
E SALE WILL CONTINUE! UN LL GOODS ARE: SOLD
IUim4i444UU4U4iUIUUaU.U4*iUaUU«U4444a44U44UUa4Uj 44444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444^
WAYSIDE AMBITION.
I want to be a brakeman.
Dog gone!
s hang-In over the edf-re of a flat car,
fn goin boot tweiiry-tive mile T n hour,
kin the dog fennel 'long the truck— •
That's what a brakeman does.
I want to be a brakeman,
I Jingl
dng the boys git off the platform,
sin the drayman if the skids is lost.
lers, "Back 'er a length," aud engineer has
to—
That's a brakeman for yel
No conductor for me, just a brakeman,
By hen!
make a couplin on the dead run,
spring bottom pants 'n braid on his clothes,
ries a lantern at night 'n cap over his ears—
That's a brakeman, I*ll tell yel
[want to be a brakeman,
Geeminently!
id in with agents and operators.
to Peru every night 'n sees a show,
ws the numbers of the trains, chaws to
backer—
Ete'a a regular one, you bet.
IS I want to be head brakeman,
Grol-lee!
stin 'er hard, smoke roll in ronnd ye,
atry people stoppin work to look,
s wavin at ye all the way to Peru;
i'U be one, too, some day.
—Chicago Record.
PIKING THE GUNS.
The regiment will be annihilated,"
srve.d the adjutant coolly. And then,
he same immovable tones, he asked
c one to pass him a biscuit.
Curse yon," shouted the colonel, "do
think I don't know that? Do you
gine I fear getting killed 'tomorrow?
you suppose I want to live on after
it has happened? It's the eternal dis
-3e of the thing that's cutting me."
Dnce comfortably shot," remarked
senior major in easy philosophy, "It
sn't much matter to me personally
re or for why I go down. Not a
I will be left behind to care."
his last.remark added tinder to the
:e. The major was a peasant's son,
i had hacked and thrust his way up
n the ranks by sheer hard fighting.
commanding officer W*# A noble of
old regime. He had hoped and reas
bly expected that the previous day's
agement wonld give him a brigade,
so the fiasco had fallen all the more
erly.
seemed as though the very stars in
r courses had been battling against
Everything had gone wrong. The
no was not ours. But tiiis, in an
y where want of luck was tho great
crime, told nothing in our favor,
ay men had fallen, and panic had
ed the heels of the rest. Which of
vitiated the run cannot be said, but
he rush of some all had been carried
ig, few, except perhaps one or two of
older officers, resisting very Btrenu
ly. The colonel, burning with shame,
gone in to report. What precisely
r been said to him wo did not know,
we guessed with some accuracy, al
jgh he did not repeat the details. The
of his interview was that the regi
lt was to attack agi.in'on the mor
, ami if unsuccessful then once .more
;he day after, aud so on till the bridge
.taken.
esterday tho thing had been barely
rtble. Vet tocfcty it was fur different,
During the night the defenses had been
more than trebled. The Anstrians
swarmed. Enough artillery was mount
ed there now to have demolished an en
tire army corps advancing against it
from the open.
The deduction waa clear. The bravest
men will turn tail sometimes, and in our
army, which was the bravest in the world,
there had during the latter part of the
campaign been more than one case of
wavering. An example accordingly was
to be made. Our corps had been singled
out for the condign punishment. We
were doomed to march on the morrow
to our annihilation.
Of course the matter had not been put
so at headquarters. There the words
ran; "Most important strategic point.
Must be taken at whatever cost. Your
regiment will again have the honor,
colonel," and so on. But, summed up
bluntly, it was neither more nor less
than I have said. We all understood
the order of the letter, and there was
not a man in the regiment who would
hesitate a moment in carrying out his
share. Each private soldier, each officer
would march with firm determination
to march then his last. That gives the
case in a nutshell.
But the secure knowledge that there
would be no skulkers along this road to
execution did not pacify the colonel. If
anything, it increased his bitterness. It
would make his ungrateful memory last
the longer. He sat at the table end of
that inn room where we had messed,
with folded arms and nervous fingers
kneading at his muscles. By a singular
irony we were lodged in comfort there—
we, who had got to go out and die on
the morrow—and he must needs taunt
us with it, as though it were a shame for
such as we to have so tolerable a billet.
Myself, I was stretched out on a sofa
away by the far wall, and lay there
mutely, having but little taste for the
wordy savageries which were being so
freely dealt about. And the night grew
older without my being disturbed. But
the angry man at the end of the table
singled me out at last, perhaps because
my outward calm and listlessuess jarred
upon him.
"Tiivd, Eugene?" he asked.
"A little, sir."
"Ah, 1 can understand it. I noted
your activity today, You have mistaken
your vocation, man ther. You should
not have coiuo into the army. You
should have been a professional runner."
An answer burned on my tongue.
But i kept it there, gave a shrug and
said nothing. What use could further
wrangling be? But the silence was an
ill move. It only angered him further,
and he threw at me an insult which was
more than human man could endure.
"Do you think yon will again feel in
clined to use those powers of yours
tomorrow, Eugene? Or had I better
have you handcuffed tv some steady old
soldier?"
A dozen of the other officers sprang to
their feet at tbis ghastly taunt, for when
such a thing as this was said to ono of
their number it touched all. The old
major was their spokesman.
"Colonel, we make all allowances, but
you are going too far with the young
ster."
The colonel scowled round tight lipped
for a minutr-, and then:
LOS ANGELES HERALD- FRIDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 17. 1893.
"I am quite capable of commanding
this regiment of lost sheep without un
asked for advice from subordinates, ma
jor. Lieutenant Ramard, yon heard my
question, I presume? Please have the
sivility to answer."
During the minute's respite I had been
thinking and acting—that is, writing. I
got up and handed the colonel a slip of
paper. On it were the words:
I acknowledge that I. E. Ramard, lieutenant
of the Twenty-second , am a coward.
Eugene Ramard.
He read it.
"There, sir," I said, "kindly add the
date, aa I havo forgotten what it is, and
please leave that behind with the bag
gage when we march tomorrow. If Ido
not do better work for France than any
man in the regiment, it is my wish that
this paper be published." The colonel
nodded grimly and then frowned.
"Have I your permission now, sir, to
withdraw from this room?' 1
A refusal was framing itself—l could
see it —but the lowering faces around
made him curb his passion, and he nod
ded again, but reluctantly.
| In the dark, wet air outside, and not
: before, did I realize fully what I had
done. The screed on the slip of paper
had been the spasm of the instant. It
seemed to me now the outcome of a mo
ment's insanity. I had had no plan, no
trace of scheme in my head while I was
scribbling. The words and the pledge
were an empty boast, made in the wild
hope that I could hold them good. But
! how could such a thing be done? The
most furious, desperate courage by it
self would avail nothing. There would
be a thousand men around, each to the
full as bravo as I—for no one can march
farther than death—and to do "better
work for France" than any of them!
Ah, no, the thing was impossible! With
i them I should fall, and among all of
them I alone would be branded infa
mous. The paper would be brought to
light, the curt, bald confession would
be read, with no explanation of how or
why it was written, and men would
form their own opinions—all hostile, all
against me.
To leave behind nothing but the name
of a self avowed coward! Oh, agony,
bitter agony!
I wandered wherever my blind feet led
me, wrenched by torments that God
alone knew the strength of, and from
which there seemed no human means of
escape. The heavy rain squalls moaned
down the village streets. The place,
with its armed tenantry, slept. Only
the dripping sentries were open eyed.
These, taking me for an officer on ordi
nary rounds, saluted with silent respect.
No "soul interfered with me. Not even a
dog barked.
The thought came: You die only to
gain a wreath cf craven plumes. Why
not pass away from here—escape—de
sert—vanish—be known no more—and
yet live? No one withholds from you
new life and new country. Frrmce alone,
of all the world, is utterly hopeloss for
you.
The thought gained. I say it freely
now, for the dead, dull blackness of my
prospect then showed no spot of relief.
In my walkings to and fro I gradually
verged nearer and nearer to the outer
cordon. As an officer I knew the words
for the night—sign and countersign both.
I o*,uld naas the ti'i 1 V«t».
Farther and (art
tered outskirts of y
doubting feet lead i • i
-1 rol up and down I • d
have been made up, t
ever deluge the ft a
sound fell on my ( i
musical. I was dv c
new scheme beginn I
changed my path a
Presently the cat i
closed itself. A . . il
and a couple of grimy farriers and half
a dozen troopers with horses. The cav
alrymen were resting on the ground,
watering bridle in hand, awaiting their
turns. The smiths were slaving, sweat
ing, swearing, doing the work of thrice
their number. It was a queer enough
group, and I gazed at it for many min
utes, still unable to frame the gauzy idea
that had reanimated me. Then one of the
farriers who had been fitting a hissing
shoe on to a hind hoof chilled the hot
iron in a rain puddle and humped up the
horse's fetlock on to his apron again.
I started.
The fellow picked up a hammer, took
a nail from his mouth and drove the
nail first gently, and then smartly home.
"There, vicious one," swore he, "I
put that spike through the vent in a
matter of seconds, but with these four
others beside it, thou'U not rid thyself of
it in as many weeks."
I strode forward.
"Five louis for that hammer and a
score of nails!"
The military smith dropped the hoof
from his lap, came to attention and sa
luted. But ho looked at me queerly and
answered nothing. I could see he thought
me mad. Very likely excitement had
made me look so.
"Ten louis. There is the money in
gold."
"My officer, the things are yours."
Steel spikes, brittle rods that would
snap off short, would have been better.
But time was growing narrow, and 1
must take what offered. These soft
bent nails would serve my purpose.
And now for the river. The current was
swift, and I could not swim a stroke. I
must go up stream and trust to find
some tree trunk or wooden balk that
would aid me in floating down.
On the matters that happened after
this I cannot speak with any minute
ness. To think back at, the whole time
seems like a blurred dream, broken by
snatches of dead sleep. I know I gained
my point on the river bank, some miles
above the village, and entered the wa
ter there, finding it chill as ice. I think
it was a small fence gate that aided my
passage.
I can only recollect clearly that the
thing I clung to was terribly unstable,
and that on beiug landed by a chance
eddy on a strip of shoal I lay there for
fully half an hour, listening to a sentry
plodding past and past through the mud
10 yards away, unable to move a limb.
Then I gathered strength, and crawling,
not only from caution, but through
sheer helplessness, made my stealthy
way still farther along the shore.
Four batt"- " ' the ap
proaches to l vere on
either flank, ing fire;
two, one abo n a di
rect line witl ueeway
could be swe;
It was in the lower of these last that
I found myself—rby what route come I
cannot say. Only then my senses seemed
to return to me. I was lying in an
embrasure. Overhead was the round
black chase of a6O pounder. I crawled
further and looked down the line. Six
more guns loomed through the night,
making seven in all.
The rain waa coming down in torrents,
sending up spurts of mud. There were
men within a dozen yards, wakeful men,
and then, and not before, did it flash
upon me that my farrier's hammer was
a useless weapon. Fool that I was to
bring it. Idiot I must have been to for
get that the first clink would awaken the
redoubt My life? No, pah! I didn't
count that. But it would mean only
one gun spiked effectually, if bo much.
I drew bayk into the embrasure and
knitted my forehead afresh. The right
thought was tardy, but it came. I
drew off my boot. It was new and it
was heavy—badinage had been poured
out by my comrades over ita heaviness.
The strong sewed heel would drive like a
calker's mallet.
Then I got to work. The guns were
loaded and primed. The looks were
covered with leather aprons, I used in
finite caution, crawling like a cat, crouch
ing in deepest shadows, stopping, mak
ing detours, not for mere life's sake, be
it understood, but because life was want
ed for work yet undone.
The seven guns were put out of action,
and still the night was dark, and tbe
Austrians were ignorant behind the cur
tain of rain. And then on to the upper
battery. Two, four, eight guns!
Three I spiked, and the night began to
gray. Three more, and men were stir
ring. I got reckless and sprang openly
at another. The air was filling with
shouts and stinking powder smoke and
crashes and the red flash of cannon.
The French were advancing to the
storm in the wet, gray dawn. Both
flanking batteries, fully manned, had
opened upon them, but of the guns which
had direct command of the bridge only
one spoke.
Into the roar 1 of artillery the wind
brought up yells and oaths and bubbling
shrieks. And then the eagles came
through the smoke. There was no stop
ping that rush.
Somehow I found myself among com
rades, fighting with a claw backed far
rier's hammer, knowing nothing of or
der or reason or how these things came
to pass, but heated only by an insane de
sire to kill and kill and kill! And then
I grappled with a man who was strug
gling off with a flag, and wrestled with
him in a crimson slough, and choked
him down into it, while heavily shod
feet trampled madly on both of us. And
afterward there was more shouting aud
cheering, and mighty hand claps be
tween my shoulder blades, and the old
major gave me cognac out of a silver
flask—cognac which seemed to have been
sadly overwatered.
And that is all 1 remembered till 1
woke up in the afternoon from the sofa
in that village inn. Reveille had sound
ed. We mustered under arms, and the
roll was called. Many did not answer.
And then, "Stand out, Lieutenant
Ramard!" eaid the colonel.
I advanced and saluted.
"You will consider yourself under ax
rest, sir, tor desertion before the enemy
Presently you will surrender your
sword and report yourself at headquar
ters."
The colonel turned and exchanged
some words with a little, pale man near
him, who eat awkwardly on a white
stallion.
He resumed, "The emperor has con
sidered your case, sir, confirms the ar
rest and orders you to be reduced to the
ranks." The colonel paused and con
tinued:
"But as a reward for your gallantry
your commission of captain will be made
out with promotion to the first vacant
majority, and you will also receive a
decoration."
Aud then I was ordered to advance
again, and the emperor transferred a
Cross of the Legion from bis own breast
to mine.
"Captain of the Twenty-second," he
said, "thou art my brother."
I never usked for the colonel's apology.
—C. J. C. Hayue in 'Washington News.
Discretion.
Two burglars broke into the house of
a merchant who was generally consid
ered to be very rich. After herculean
efforts they managed to open the safe,
but who can describe their disappoint
ment when they found that it waa empty
and all their labor in vain? At that mo
ment the master of the house, awakened
by the noise, appeared on the scene. For
a moment all three stood there as if
turned into stone. The merchant was
the first to come to himself.
"Gentlemen," he said, "let us all main
tain a discreet silence over this incident.
And now permit me to show you the
door."—Seif enblasen.
Ignorance.
"Brother Johnsing," said Mr. Bones,
with a wink at the other end man, "here
is a conundrum for you. What is the
difference between an oyster and an ele
phant?"
"H'ra!" said the middle man thought
fully. "The difference between an oyster
and an elephant? Well, Mr. Bones, 1
must confess I don't know."
"Then I should not advise you to go
into the oyster business," returned Mr.
Bones. "The orchestra will now play
'Ta-ra-ra Rooney.'"—Exchange.
A New Cause.
Thousand} Fxock to Its Standard.-When
a new cause is presented to the public it always
excn.es attention. A prominent physiclau haa
said tbat la grippe, dv lug the last three years
has done more to weaken the hearts of tbe
world tbau auy other cause tbat has ever ex
isted. Those who have bad tbis malady and
subsequently found themselves subject to pal
pitation, short breath, Irregular pulse, wind in
bioo ach, pain ln side or shoulder, smothering
spells, fainting, dropsy, etc, may feel assured
they have heart disease, wbieb unless ehe eked
at once, may result fatahy. Dr. Miles' New
Heart Cure is the only remedy that cau be re
lied upon to effect a cure. Sold by U. H. Uance,
177 N. Spring, on a guarantee. Ask for the doc
tor's new book, free,
American an<l Pnreijcn Uazar.
A full line of fine Porcelain Sevres and all
Important fabrics in United States and foreign
countries falso a full line of Ulaiaware of the
finest aud late-t designs. Qrast assortment of
Toys and Fanny Good*. 1131 N. Main Bt., under
the St. Klma Dlos do Leon, prop.
Our Home Brew.
Mnier & Znboieln's lager, fresh from their
brewery, on draught ln all the principal sa
loons: delivered promptly ln bottles or kegs.
Offlco and brewery, 414 Allso street. Tele
phouelil.
U» Qkrman Family Boat-.
BONAPARTE IN EXILE.
Tbe Famous General's Trip to St. Helena
and How He Bebared.
At 6 p. m. dinner waa announced,
when we all sat down in apparent good
spirits, and our actions declared our ap
petites fully equal to those spirits. Gen
eral Bonaparte ate of most dishes on the
table, using hia fingers instead of a fork,
seeming to prefer the rich dishes to the
plainly dressed food and not even tasting
vegetables. Claret was {his beverage,
which he drank out of a tumbler, keep
ing the bottle before him.
Be conversed the whole of dinner time,
confining his conversation principally to
the admiral, with whom he talked over
the whole of the Russian campaign and
attributed the failure of it in the first
instance to the burning of Moscow, iv
tbe next to the frost setting in much
sooner than was expected. He said he
meant only to have refreshed his troops
for four or five days, and then to have
pushed on for St. Petersburg, but find
ing all his plans frustrated by the burn
ing of Moscow, and his army likely to
perish, he hurried back to Paris, setting
out with a chosen bodyguard, one-half
of which wero frozen to death the first
night.
He said nothing could be more horri
ble than the retreat from Moscow, and
indeed the whole of the Russian cam
paign; that for several days together it
appeared to him as if he were marching
through a sea of fire, owing to the con
stant succession of villages in flames,
which arose in every direction as far as
the eye could reach. He said the burn
ing of these villages as well as of Mos
cow was attributed to his troops, but
that it was invariably done by the na
tives.
After dinner he did not drink wine,
but he took a glass of noyau after his
coffee, previous to rising from the table.
After dinner he walked the deck, con
versing principally with the admiral,
to whom he said, duriug this conver
sation, tbat previous to his going to
Elba he had made preparations for hav
ing a navy of a hundred sail of the line;
that he had established a conscription
for the navy, and that the Toulon flees
was entirely manned and brought for
ward by people of this description; that
he had ordered them positively to get
under way and maneuver every day tho
weather would permit, and to occasion
ally exchange long shots with our ships;
that this had be n remonstrated against
by those about him, and it had cost him
much money to repair the accidents
which occurred from the want of -vari
time knowledge, such as ships getting
foul of each other, splitting their sails,
springing their masts, etc., but he found
this tended to improve the crews, aud
he determined to persevere in his plan.
After walking for some time he pro
posed a round game at cards, in compli
ance with which the admiral, Sir George
Bingham, Captain Ross and myself as
sembled with General Bonaparte and his
followers iv the after cabin, where we
played at ving-tun (sic), which was the
game chosen by the ex-emperor, till
nearly 11 o'clock, when we all retired to
our beds.—Century.
For sick, nervous and neuralsin headache use
The sure cure—Bromo- oeiuer.

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