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WHERE SOME OF OUR GIRLS WOULD LIKE TO BE SAMPSON'S HAPPY WIFE She and Her Sons Spent a Glorious Fourth To one American woman old Independ ence day brought memorable happiness. The favored one was the stately, gracious wife of Admiral Sampson, who received the news of her husband's splendid victory al their home at Glen "Ridge. N. J. The Samp son cottage is unpretentious, but Old Glory waves above the front lawn and flaunts its stars and stripes at every win dow. Two bright-eyed lads were blazing away with a small brass cannon mounted on the front porch when the writer reached the house yesterday. They were the sons of the hero of Santiago—Ralph and Har old, "chips of the old block," as could be seen from the workmanlike way in which they handled their miniature cannon. Mrs. Sampson received her visitor gra ciously. Just as for hours before she had been greeting her enthusiastic neighbors, who from early morning stormed the home with their congratulations. She Is a woman of striking appearance, very tall, and with a carriage that, In a graceful, fem inine way, suggests the parade ground or the quarter deck. There was a tremble in her voice as she spoke of her husband, and the happy tears started as she asked for fresh particulars of his victory. "Am I happy?" she said. "Yes; happier than ever before In my life. For the last few months my life has been one of cease less anxiety, but the glorious news from Santiago dispels every cloud. Late last night the first Inkling of the truth reached me," she continued. "But, do you know, I could not credit it. It seemed absolutely too good to be true. Tou must understand," and here a tear glistened in the light brown •yes, "although I am a rear admiral's wife. I am Just like every other woman who loves a brave and loyal husband, who is exposed to deadly danger. "The morning papers gave me consider able comfort, but no certainty of my hus band's safety and success. It was not until 3 oclock yesterday afternoon that positive confirmation of our splendid victory reached me." Just at that Instant the roar of that little brass cannon on the front porch made the windows rattle and brought the admiral's wife to her feet with a start. "Do you hear that?" she asked, with a laugh and a look of motherly pride. "Those boys of mine ought not to be firing cannon. But I haven't the heart to stop them today. "Neither of them slept a wink last night, and they started this fearful cannonading at 4 oclock In the morning. I've begged them to take a rest, but all day long the answer has been: 'We're helping papa wal lop the Spaniards.' " Mrs. Sampson talked unreservedly of her heroic husband; of those little things about the man which the wife can best tell. For weeks every mall has showered let ters in upon her from total strangers—men and women eager for the admiral's auto graphs, a lock of the admiral's hair, a uni form button, a scrap of silk lace from Mrs. Sampson's dress—anything, everything. "And do you know." explaintd the smil ing recipient of all these requests, "that 1 am doing my best to answer these new found friends? Some ill-advised persons have circulated a report that these letters bother me. Not a bit of It. I realize that each letter means an Interest and sym pathy In my husband's work. So I am writing away as fast as ever I can, neglect ing even household duties and squandering all my pin money In postage stamps. "The funniest of all,", said Mrs. Samp LOS ANGELES HERALD: SUNDAY MORNING, JULY 24,1898 son, "Is a letter Just received from Ger many. It comes from a tradesman in a little town on the Rhine. He write! that lie has heard most complimentary things of the admiral, and begs that he will come over early in August and act as godfather at his baby's christening. It's that delightfully stupid—for the writer Is plainly sincere in what he asks." Up to a late hour last night Mrs. Samp son had received no message from the ad miral, owing to the rush of official business over the wire.—New York World. How to Travel Without a Pass "Pass!" said the elderly hut still athletic navvy, gazing contemptuously at some bro ther workmen as the train wast searing the ticket collecting station. "I don't carry no pass. I can travel all over England without a pass." "How do you manage It, then'/" asked a little hodman timidly. "I looks 'em straight in the face with a twich of the hi, like this. 'You know me, guvnor, I says." "Not on this line," cried the other. "You don't get through like that. It's show your pass, or they haul you off in two sticks." "Ha!" snortetd the navvy, "haul me out! Not twenty of 'em couldn't!" "Well, you'll see." The train drew up, the ticket collector appeared. Everybody in the carriage looked forward to a row, and people in the adjoin ing compartment craned over the partitions to watch the events. "Tickets!" growled the collector, hastily scrutlnlzinu the passes that were thrust into his hand. "That man in the corner ain't got a p ass," squeaked a thin voice. The navvy affected to be rum maging his capacious pockets; the wink, the straight look had failed; everybody was eagerly awaiting the "hauling out," when, to the disappointment of the crowd, the man produced a perfectly legitimate ticket from the corner of a blue pocket handkerchief.— Household Words, WOMEN MAKE GALLANT SOLDIERS The Idea of women's engaging In fierce combat Is not captivating, and the Illustration drawn by a famous artist, which we present today, may not appeal to the chivalrous man, who rightly thinks that woman's share in warfare should be limited to ten derly nursing back to life and hope the shattered heroes wounded in battle. The Idea of a charging troop of A inn zone, with the light of battle in their eyes and the fierce excitement of war tronsformlnlg faces that are otherwise pretty and dainty, is not so improbable a one as to constitute it a purely imaginary one for the artist's clever pen. The pages of history need be turned only with an Indolent hand to discover a long array of Instances In which women have not only made war, but have acquitted themselves in a light like heroes. Has any one paid particular attention to our old-world Amazons and warrior queens? In glancing through Dr. Kuno Mey er's notes to his edition of the Irish saga, "The Battle of Ventry," one comes upon traces of some of the fighting women—by no means wholly mythical, it may he presumed—of Irish heroic legend. The great Cuehullln's principal instructor in the use of weapons was the Lady Scathhach, "who had a kind of military academy In Scotland, whither the noblest sons of Erin were sent to accomplish their military education." One of Scathach's antagonists was the warrior queen. Aife, who was in the long run overcome by Cuchulllnr. Another celebrated lady "battlesmlth" was Ness, the mother of Conchobar. It is to be feared, how ever, that most of those strong-armed heroines were rather an index of the hideous barbarism of their time than the ideal of a free and splendid womanhood. It was the ghastly spectacle of two women hacking each other to death with Iron sickles which prompted Ronait, the mother of Adamnan, to persuade her Bon to free the women of Ireland from foray and fight forever, "One o£ the four laws of Erin is that of Adamnan—not to kill women." And from the dead lioness sprang living honey. Of English warrior ladles, Boadicea stands first and. Indeed, alone, for CartLsmandua, the queen of the Brlgantes, Is only remembered as the betrayer of that great-hearted ruler of South Wales, Caractacus. But we do not require to go back Into the midst of the dawn to discover instances of woman's heroism in battle. There were numbers of women who served during our civil war, in both the Federal and Confederate ranks, some fighting side by elde with their husbands and sweethearts, dis guised as men. and taking all the risks of death, so that they might be with those they loved; others fighting for the excite ment of the life, and playing their part with so much boldness a* to guard their secret until accident revealed it. There was a convent-bred girl, who took the name of Frank Martin and served In the war a« a dashing cavalryman of the Second East Tennessee regiment. A wound received at Murfreesboro led to the discovery of her sex. The surgeon who at tended to her wounds was startled to find that the soldier was a woman, and he speedily reported the matter to Gen. Rose crans, who saw that "Frank Martin" was sent back home as soon as her wounds would permit. There seemed to be no reason for her enlistment other than love of the life of a soldier. A brave girl who Joined the northern army, In order to be with her sweetheart, was Annie Ldllybrldge. When her affianced, who was a lieutenant in a Michigan regiment, left for the war, Miss Dlllybrldge became so melancholy that she determined to don man's clothing and enlist. How she managed to pass the doctors is a mystery, but in some way known only to herself she succeeded In Joining the same regiment In which her sweetheart was a lieutenant, and, unknown to him, he falling to recognize her In her regimentals, she followed the fortunes of the regiment, content to know that she was near the man) she loved. Her sex was discovered after she had been severely wounded In the arm, and she was discharged when her wound was healed. It is gratifying to know that she married the man of her choice when tho war was ended. A case that aroused great interest at the time and was the subject of newspaper comment all over the country wss that of a Missouri woman, who entered a cavalry regiment and fought so fiercely through many sanguinary battles that she received special mention from the commanding officer. She was severely wounded and died in hospital, her sex having been discovered only when she was in the hands of the hospital surgeons to have her wounds dressed. In all these easel and many more that could he cited, women have shown that they can face death on the battlefield wlththe calm courage of veteran fighters. In the rough camp life they have stood hardship as bravely as the men, and never bya sign have they revealed that their rough uniforms concealed the frail forms of women. "YANKEE DOODLE" IN SPAIN The Song Is Universally Known in the Basque Provinces " 'Yankee Doodle' doesn't any more be long to you Yankees than it does to the southerners," said the Confederate major. "When my father was a comparatively young man he visited San Sebastian and met Senor Quthellle, an aged Biscayan gentle man, who was United States vice consul there, and Senor Queheille proved to him that 'Yankee Doodle' was a Biscayan air. •My father told him about a difficulty which he and some friends had Just had with a crowd of angry Basques. The Basques had surrounded them and shouted, 'Mueran! murcanl' meaning 'Kill them! kill them!' Senor Queheille said to him: " 'Why didn't you whistle your national air? It would have saved you.' " 'Our national air.' my father exclaimed. 'What do these people know about that?' " 'Had you but whistled It, I repeat.' said the old gentleman, 'the angry Basques might have taken you to be what they modestly esteem themselves, the cream of all the Basques, for purity of race and purity of language, and, Indeed, originality of music; for the air Is so old they believe our great forefather Tubal brought the tune here with him, along with our tongue. Many a man, you know, has been saved by knowing the secret signs the Free Masons use. My sons, It would' have been worth the trial.' " 'But surely, sir, you Jest,' answered my father, incredulously. " 'On my word, no,' answered the vice consul. 'It Is almost certainly an old Guipuscoan air. I have known it from my childhood. I was amazed and amused, too, years ago when I first heard it In' Boston, and asked s gentleman what It was. "Why., our national air," he replied In a msgusted tone. No," said I, "It is ours." He then told me that you had got It from the British at Bunker Hill. I told him that might be, but that originally It must have come from the Pyrenees. He did not believe me, but I can prove the fact to you. Tomorrow is one of the days those gentry outside let their women come in with vegetables. Come and take an early breakfast with me and you shall be convinced." "You may be sure my father was on time the next morning," continued the major.re filllr.g his pipe. "On proceeding to the plaza with the old Spanish gentleman, they found it thronged with market women from far and near. A middle-aged' woman who had soldj her supply of vegetables was getting ready to start for home. Senor Queheille accosted her In Basque and learn ed that she was from Tolosa, some ten or twelve leagues south of San Sebastian. He spoke to her again.. She smiled and imme diately began to sing. Her language was strange to my father's ears, but the air thrilled his ears and made him take off his hat and stand with bared head. It was 'Yankee Doodle.' " 'There!' exclaimed the consul, trium phantly. 'Is not that the tune you play on the Fourth of July and when you go Into battle?' " 'The very same," answered my father. " 'Come along; we have only begun the proof,' and Senor Queheille hurried him from point to point ot the crowded square, addressing here a woman from Vergara, there one from Hernanl; now a girl from Trun, then another from Oyarzun, until he had questioned the length and breadth of Guipuzcoa. The result was invariably the same. Most could sing words to the tune, a few could only hum It, like the children In our nurseries from Maine t* Tampa, from the Atlantic, to the Pacific, but my father had proof positive that the air of 'Yankee Doodlle' was not only known In that region but universally known."—New York Sun. A Crafty Dentist A writer in the Universalis! Leader of Boston, discusses ir. a bright and entertain ing way the question of church advertising. One clergyman questioned by the writer contented himself with a regular church no tioe In the daily papers. Another distrib uted a weekly bulletin, and another racked his brains to get up "fetching" circulars, A clerygman In a country tewn said he thought a pastor's best advertisement was the harmony between his faith and his con duct. Another advertised himself and his church by pointed allusions to politics ar.d to current events. He reviewed new books. The preachers have difficulties of professional etiquette to overcome just as doctors have. A story Is told of a dentist who circumvented the professional rule against advertising in this way. He owned two houses, Nos. 17 and 19 Smith street. He moved his office from 17 to 10 and kept a removal notice standlngln all the local pa pers for three years, by which time It must have been tired enough to sit down. Then he moved back to No. 17 and advertised that fact. All this was severely ethical, and It paid the dentist so well that he was soon able to buy No. 21, and it is reported that he has a mortgage on No. 23.—National Ad vertiser. 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