Newspaper Page Text
THE MOAJNTSTGr TIMES,. SXTJPAY, MACH 14, 1897
Copyright, 1S97, by Richnid Linthicum. TART I. Tlie sheep were in the folds on the mesa. The bronzed shepherds of El Itito bad eaten their tortillas and dull eon carne, etnoked their corn busk cigarettes, spread tbeir Rolclions on the floors of their huts, devoutly Mid their prayers and gone to bleep. The faithrul sentinels that guarded the sheepfolds wore all sleeping, but with one eye open and one ear cocked; no prowling coyote might hope to enter the loofcely con structed corral andsnatch a weak lambkin, for the scent of the sentinels was keen, their hearing acute, their courage above suspicion, and their intelligence but little lees llisn human. Man is not so univer sally faithrul to his trust as is the bhepherd dog. It was a night in early spring. The heavens were radiant with stars. The air was sofl, and laden with the fragrance of the sprouting s.ige. Each 6tar shone with a brilliancy that would have rivaled that blazing forerunner or the seven wise men lighting the scene as fairly as would a cre&ccuL moon in a less clear and tranquil atmosphere. And in this glorious star light hovered the spirits of peace nnd con tent. Here were a people, patient in pov erty, happy in ignorance and as pious as were those amongst whom dwelt the Vir gin that brought forth a Messiah. The mud rownoi LI rtttu .lsi darkness, save for a signle light that snone from a window in the house of the good priest, Padre Uamon. It w.us 1 0 o'clock, so there was none to see the light nor remark Pedro 1 red to ito-.se the Uncon scioiiK Priest. the unseemly hour kept by the spiritual paoLor or a flock as meek and gentle'-as the wlute herds in the sheeprolds. The good priest was alone, he sac with bowed head beside a table and pressed his hands against Ms brow. Tlieie was a look of suffering upon his handsome, clean-shaven face; his eyes, which had ever looked with gentleness upon ins people, were now wide and glaring; he was as one ill unto death. But Padre Ramon suffered no physical ailment, he was ill mentally and bick at heart Nature had no herb; the alchemist no drug to calm his troubled mind or tlop the ache nithin his breast, Manuel Salazar (that was Padre Ramon's name) was bom for the world; fate gave lam to the church. He had all the physical graces and manly accomplishments that excite the admiration and win the love of women. His was a strong, passionate na ture, but the fires of his blood were held lu eneck by the cool currents or his mind. Twenty' j ears had passed since Manuel Sulazar had presented himself to the pro vincial and craved admittance to the So ciety of Jesus: during those twenty years Loyola lind no more devoted dii-ciple. Mmiuei's Ucisre to be a Jesuit was not the result of a devotional spirit, but rather titathe i. igiit by lire service to the church mid tin- holy ordei redeem himself from an existence which fate had darkened and taddened. When a youth of eighteen he was be trothed to Aicuria de Vargas, whose father's large estate was adjacent to that or Manuel's father, in Southern New Mex ico. She was in every respect worthy to be his bride; she had youth, beauty and culture, and together with an only brother two years her senior would inherit the acres and vast herds of Don Antonio de Vargas. Alcaraia's life had been lived outside of towns and cities, so that her purity had not been tarnished, nor her (Simplicity lessened by contact with aggre gated humanity. Her ancestry dated back to the Conquest, and in her veins flowed the sungre azul of Castile. The fc'alazars had nought of which to be ashamed; their blood, also, was blue and their wealth great. Don Diego Sal azar looked forward with pride to the union that was to link his honored family name with the ancient one of de Vargas, while Don Antonio regarded Manuel as the must eligible of sons-in-law. The mar riage was never celebrated. One evening a week previous to the Jate set for the wedding, Manuel ac companied by Enrique de Vargas, Al euria's brother, rode to the town near by to complete sonic arrangements for the approaching festivities. They sep arated early in the evening, making an agreement to meet at 0 o'clock in the plaza, where they had left their horses. Enrique was not there at the appointed time. He had many friends in the town, and Manuel took it for granted that he had been unavoidably detained by some of them. After waiting nearly au hour, Manuel went in search of his tardy com panion. To all of his inquiries there was the same answer; no one had seen Enrique Mince early in the evening when he had ridden into town. Aianuel's woist fears were realized. It was midnight when he found Enrique In a gaming house. The youthful scion of the house of lc Vargas had the seat of lionor, opposite the dealer, while smaller players' ci owded around him. There was a scowl on Enrique's flushed face as he placed his money on a queen, the opposing card being a jack. The monte dealer be gan to slowly draw the cards one by one from the pack in his hands. Eniique called out each card as it fell upon the table; his voice was thick but defiant. It was at once apparent to Manuel that Enrique was drunk, and in an ugly mood; he had been losing, and was exasperated almoat to madness. "Jack." called the dealer, showing the card, and taking the money Enriqne had staked. "Show nie the queen," cried Enrique angrily, as he arose and pushed back several of the players on either hand. "There was a queen in the first layout and it won; now show me the other one." "Does the scnor think" began the gambler, hut Enrique cut him short. "Never mind what 1 think, show me the queen," said Enrique. His eyes glittered with rage and his attitude was menacing. Manuel made his way to the table and placed one hand on Enrique's shoulder, "Eniique " he began. 'You stand aside," commanded the en raged youth; "this is my affair' Then turning to the gambler he almost shrieked, "Show me that queen or I'll cut your heart out." A knire flashed in Enrique's right hand. The monte dealer threw the cards upon the floor and grabbed a revolver lying In an open drawer. Manuel sprang between them and caught Enrique by the wrist as the enraged youth made a lunge at the dealer. j "Enrique, what are you doing? Listen to me!" he said in au authoritative tone. De Vargas face was black with passion. He ex"rted his full strength and wrenched j himself free. He struck out viciously nnd the blow fell upon Manuel's neck. A jittle stream of blood trickled down the in jured man's shirt front, while from a vein spouted a tiny crimson spray as perfumed waters are forced from atomizers "For the love of God, Enrique, stop; it is I , Manuel; seize him, some one,'' he called, as heretieated before the infuriated youth, who seemed bereft of all reason. In the moment of excitement the dealer had slipped out through a side door; the crowd fell back instead of closing in upon Enrique; no one had either the courage to seize him or attempt to check the assault. As Manuel retreated he placed a chair between himself and his pursuer, but En rique flung it aside and advanced with uplifted knife. "You cheat, you thief." nis voice was choked with rage, and he gasped rather than uttered the words. "Are you mad, Enrique? Don't you sec that It is I, Manuel?" cried the wounded man, as he sought some avenue of escape or some means of checking Enrique's mur derous advance. A small deal table was near by, and Manuel placed himself on the side of it opposite his assailant. He faw that rage and drink combined had madden ed Enrique beyond the powerof reason. To attempt to disarm him without Injury to oneor both seemed impossible, and Manuel's onlv desire was to escape from the place until Enrique should come to his senses. With this purpose in view he attempted to circle around the table, expecting Enrique co follow him, butinsteadof doing this 1'n rique with the supernatural strength born of ragcleapod over the table. Manuel's only chance to escape was gone; there was no place for him to retreat except to a corner of the long room. Again he called to Enrique to stop and there was a warning tone In his voice. Rick in the far end of the dimly-lighted room, where the spectators could not plainly see what took place, they clashed. The encounter lnsted but a moment and this time it was Enrique who fell back. There was a gaping wound in his neck near the shoulder blade and his left hand was clasped to his side, Indicating that he had received a second wound. He clutched at the deal table for support as he steadied himself, Manuel passed him. Enrique's expression had undergone a complete change. His rage had reached its climax in blows and reaction had set in. ne was calmer and seemed to be dazed. He tossed his knife backward over his head and it fell sticking upright in the floor. "What is the matter?" he asked. "What have I done? Did I strike you, Manuel?" Across Manuel's right hand, in addition to the wound in his neck, was a streak of red from which the blood flowed down his fingers, mingling with that of Eniique on the blave of his knife, and dripping from the polnf. The spectators nervously gathered around them, and one undertook a brief expla nation. "Forgive me, brother," weakly gasped Enrique. He tried to extend bis hand, but the effort was too great. He reeled and would have fallen, but Manuel, dropping his knife, caught him and let him down gently to the floor. At the beginning of the affray one of the spectators ran for the sheriff. He found that official in company of n young physician, an American, and informed them of what was taking place ia the saloon. As Manuel bent over Enrique the sheriff and doctor entered the place. Manuel Caught Him nnd Let "Lo siento, bermano." tl am sorry, brother! came feebly from the lips of En rique, and thea he fainted. While the doctor dressed the wounds of the unconscious man the sheriff made in quiries regarding the affair. All reports agree that Manuel had but defended him belf, and so the sheriff decided. "If Senor de Vargas should die," he said, "Senor Salaza will not run away." Manuel knelt beside the doctor as the latter dressed Enrique's wounds, and the little stream of blood from the punctured artery in his neck fell on the American's hands. "Why, man, you'll bleed to death if that is not stopped," said the young physician. "Stand up here and let me fix it." "It's only a scratch," was the reply, "attend to him," pointing to Enrique. But tho doctor insisted and the spray 1 of blood was checked none too soon, for Manuel's face had become pallid and hiB limbs were getting weak. "Some one should notify his people," said the doctor, as he again gave his at tention to the unconscious Enrique, "he may recover and he may die." "I will tell them," said Manuel, "nave him taken to the hotel and I will let his people know." He bent over the prostrate man, and his eyes filled with tears. Then his emotion overcame him, and he kissed Enrique on the cheek. "My brother, my brother," he exclaimed in a choked voice as he arose, "Mother of God, spare him." He walked with uncertain step to the door, and then summoning all his strength, drew himself erect and stepped out onto the street. Some minutes after the doctor said, re ferring to Manuel: "He seems to be weak, and it is possible lie may not be able to reach home. Some of you men had better ride out and notify Dou Antonio of What has happened." Two Mexicans, who stood In great awe of Don Antonio, and yet were ever ready to serve him on account of his generosity, volunteered at once to get their horses. Manuel was weaker than he seemed to be. lie had lost a great deal of blood, nnd he fore he had leached the plaza, where he had left his hors-e, he was obliged to sit down rcveral times. When at least he had reached the plaza, and while he was pre paring to mount, two men passed him. Tlioy were talking of the alfray in tiie saloon. It was too dalle for Manuel to see their faces, but he could plainly hear what they said. "That fellow Is going to die," said one. "No hope for him," said the other, "he was dying when we lelt the place. Of course, the doctor didn't like to say so, a jmuammmnt I - sees His Voice Hose Almost to u. Sereuui, but anyone could see that he didn't have any hope for the young fellow. He'll be dead berore Salazar can get to Don An tonio's ranch." "I wouldn't'.lkc to be in Salazar's place," said the first speaker, "ir old Don An tonio don't shoot him, he'll get out his peon and hang him." Manuel mounted his horse aud the restive broncho dashed off in the direction of home. The rider could not loug stand the rapid pace and it required all his strength to check the speed of the wiry little beast. At the end of two miles Manuel had become so weak that he feared to allow the horse to proceed faster than a walk. At the end of the third mile he could scarcely keep his seat in the saddle, and for tear that he would fall from his horse he rode several paces off the road and dismounted beside an acequla. The tall grass that grew on the bank made a sort and restful couch. He soon felt that he was strong enough to resume the Journey; It was now but a short distance to Don Antonio's; the conversation of the two men in the plaza recurred to him. Enrique was dying, perhaps, and he was loiteriug by the wayside. He must up aud hurry on. A faint sound reached his ears from the west the direction in which he was travel ing the hoof-beats of a horse in a swift Him Down Gently to the Floor. gallop then came another-three four five, until It became impossible for him to tell the number. As they came nearer the swift gallop quickened into a mad race. Manuel raised his head as the horsemen came into sight; the leader of tho party loudly urged his steed into a break-neck pace, and Manuel recognized the voice of Don Antonio de Vargas. The well-nigh exhausted man on the bank of the acequla made an effort to hall them, but the clatter of hoofs drowned his weak voice as the old Don and twenty of his retainers rushed by in the darkness. Manuel could not see the mingled look of anguish and hatred on the face of Don Antonio, nor could he ob serve thatall the riders were heavily urmed. As they dashed by him he indistinctly heard their voices in sharp, broken sen tences But two words clearly reached his ears: "Enrique dead.'' The noise of hoofs quickly died away on adH Ma gained5 have ridden pursued by the phantoms of u torture-racked brain. Three years later a shepherd youth pre sented himself to "the Provincial of the Society of Jesus aC Santa Fe, and sought admission to the order. He was vouched tor by his parish priest, who told the aged head or Hie province that of all his acquaintance, this youth, Ramon Sauchez, was the most devotional. Thus it was that Manuel Salazar, fleeing from the world, closed upon himself the door of a sacred retreat and felt that he was safe, not only for a time, but for eternity. In the brothers' college none was more studious, none more zealous that Ramon. At the end or the long and severe eourbe of training, the time came for Ramon to go back to the world. He returned to it even more willingly than he had left It; all the enthusiasm of his nature was aroused to do the will of God; he had lost a bride and found a mother in the church. The wound in his heart had healed; the badness of his wot Idly sorrow had left him and he looked upon life as with new eyes and entered again into the affairs of the world with a new and higher purpose. Padre Ramon was assigned to tho parish of El Rito among the class of people he loved a community of bhepherds, in the dregs of poverty without realization of ir, and consequently without the pangs that come to those who have nothing and de sire much. And not gentler were these shep herds of four-footed flocks than was this shepherd of men. He drew inspiration from thcir.simple.uncomplaiuinglivcs, and" wore in his easy shoe the four-leaf clover of sweet content." Not quite a year had Padre Ramon been at El Rito when he received a summons from the provincial to come to Sante Fe in haste. Padre harnessed the mules, and together he and the padie set out. It was night when they reached the city of Holy Faith. It was Pedro's first introduction into life outside of the little collection of mud huts lie called his native plaza, and his attention was diverted from his mules by even such poor sights as the country youth may see in the New Mexican capital. A ball was in progress in a house .sev eral streets distant from the Provincial's residence, and as Pedro and his mules were opposite the place the door of the house was suddenly opened to admit a new arrival. The mules were no more used to urban sounds than Pedro was to urban sights, and as the discordant strains of violins, guiturs and horns smote their ears than they plunged furiously to the other side of the street, one fore-wheel struck a large rock, 'the vehicle was upset, and the frightened animals ran wildly toward the center of the town. Pedro, an agile youth, niigh'ted on his feet, and had sufficient presence of mind to think first of the padre. The good priest was lying upon his back, in the middle of the road. ' , "Are you hurt, padre?" anxiously in quired the boy; hut there was no re sponse. Pedro tried to arouse the un conscious priest, but without success, and fearing that the good father had beea killed he alarmed 'the dancers at the ball. The padre was carried to the Jesuit hospital near by.' Beside the injury to his head, which had rendered him uucon scious, the priest had a dislocated .shoul der. It would be several days before he would be out again. While Padre Ramon was under the in fluence of opiates bis shoulder was put in place, and he remained in a deep sleep for several hours. When he awoke, a nurse in the garb of a sister, was by his bedside. "The doctor said you were to drink this when you awakened," she said, passing him a cooling draught. "I will send Sister Manuclla to dress the wound on your head." She went noiselessly from the room, and in a few moments Sister Manuclla entered. She carried a fresh bandage in her hand, whlch.she placed on a table, and then approached the bod. "I am Sister Manuella," she said, "and I am come to dress the wound on your head. Does It give you much pain7" Padre Ramon was silent. His face was aa white as the virgin sheet on which he the sandy roadw Manuel exerted all his strength and gainedfhls feet. There was an expression of horror on his face as hu gazed after the horsemen. 'Enrique dcadlVbeexclalmcd. Forsomo minutes he stootf completely dazed leaning against his horse. His fiist Impulse was to follow Don Antonio; then he thought of Alcarla. She also knew that Enrique was dead. He would go to her and comfort her. No, she would not understand that her brother alone was responsible for the tragedy; she would blame only Manuel, her lover, her betiotbed; in her eyes ho would be a murderer. Emotional and pas sionate as she was by nature, in the first burst of mingled grief and wrath her love for hira would perish, as tender vegetation shrivels and dies when touched by the hot breath of the Solano. Such were the thoughts of Manuel as he put forth all his btrength and mounted ids impatient broncho, which, obedient to the guiding pressure of the rein against its neck aad btung by the sharp barbs of a spur, set off at a brisk gallop not in the direction of Don Antonio's ranch, nor yet back to the town, but straight toward the high mesa to t honorth. II was with the feel ing of a fugitive hotly pursued that Manuel urged on his horse; yet he was not riee ing from the law to defend one's life is not a crime; not from the wrath of Don Antonio and the de Vargas kinsmen hisownkinsinen were equally numerous and powerful but from her he loved best, and now feared most in all the world Alcaria. He dared not look into her wet eyes and see them flash with hatred when she beheld him; he dared not touch her with hands stained with her brothers blood; with the knife strokes that defended his life he alid slain her love and so he rode on toward the north, as a madman might Liay; his eyes were wide and staring; his lips moved without giving forth a sound. Sister Manuella took a seat by tho bed aide, and stretched forth her hand to undo the bandage on his head. "Alcuria," he gasped, "do you not know me?" A long indrawn breath, the trembling of lips and hands betoketied the agitation of the nun. 1 "Manuel, is it you?" she asked In a faiat voice, sweeter in cadence than he had ever heard It. "Oh, Alcarla, my lost " "Stop, padre; be quiet," came the in junction in a calm voice; "you must not excite yourself; the doctor said that ex citement might bring on delirium." "Do you not fear to touch me?" "No." "Do you not hate me?" "I never hated anyone," was tne calm reply. "You must be quiet while I re move the bandage," and her trembling fingers touched the blood-stained cloth that bound the j-dre's head. "You under.sta..J; you know that It was but to defend my life. I struck him down him I loved us a brother killed him" "I fear for you padre," aid the gentle voice as Manuella unwound the bandage; "the excitement is dangerous; be calm Enrique lives." With a violent motion that roughly tore tiie bandage rrom his wound, which bled afresh, Padre Ramon sat upright in the bed; his voice rose almost to a scream as he repeated the words: "Enrique lives; Mother of God, I thank Thee. He stretched upward his arms and fell back upon the pillow in a swoon. (To be concluded.) A HIT OF HISTORY. Germnntown, Pa., "VVan Onco tho Cunltal of tho Country. A pupil in the boys' grammar school, on Lafayette street, Germautown, was asked by his teacher this week "when the first Congress occupied the Geraiantown Acad emy, located on West School lane?" It was a puzzle, of course, to the young scholar, who was at a loss to and anything in print verifying such an event. The facts, however, from wMt-r. the false inipresson has frequently obtained are as follows: The Government or the United States was first inaugurated in New York in 17S9, but by ace of Congress Philadelphia was made the capital of the nation from 1790 until 1800. In 1703 the yellow fever became epidemic in this city, and it was in October of that year that the governor or Pennsjl vauia asked tiie board or tiustees to ac commodate the House of Atsembly, and a similar request for quarters camefrom Congress. At the November meeting following the board proffered to Congress the choice of the school buildings, but there is no minute evidence to show that Congress accepted the generous offer. At this time Wush iirglon resided in Germautown, and the town was spoken of as the government place of the State and also of the United States. Jefferson, then Secretary of State, and Randolph, Attorney General, occupied the building, some years ago torn down to extend the site on which the national bank now stands, at Main street and School lane. So, with Washington, Thomas Jcrfcrson and John Randolph re siding In Germantown, it is not strange that the conclusion should be formed that Congress was In session-at the time. Al though the Germantown academy never had the honor of accommodating Con gress, a few years later, in 1793, when the yellow fever made its appearance again In this city, the hanks of North America and of Pennsylvania did find a temporary place of safety in the old academy. Philadelphia Record. A CASE OF UI.UFF. Tills Fatal Spirit of Obstinacy Caus ed Two Men to He Snowed Under. The last three miles of the road lead ing up to the Alhnmhra mine ran through Dead Man's Gap, which was a nanow valley In the mountains, and at least once every winter there was sure to be a snow slide which buried the trail from ten to twenty feet deep. We were going up from Franklin City with the pack mules, one day in January, when a Chinook wind was melting the snow, nnd in the nanow part of the valley we came across two men who had camped down within ten iodd of each other. They weic typical men of the border piopcctors, miners and hangers-on, but meeting them where we did was such a surprise that the coloael halted to say: "You men must be more than fools to camp down here. If there's a snow slide you'll be buried twenty feet deep at the first rush." "Stranger." replied one of the men, as he ran his eye up the mountain side, "I've bin expectin' a snow slide every minit since noon yisterday, but it's not fur mc to mnke the fust move. It's a game of bluff betwixt me and that galoot over thar', and I won't give in to him." "Stranger," said the other man, as he advanced a pace or two, "I was comin' down this pass yisterday, when I met that old critter goln' up. I was in a hurry to git along and so was he, but as we met he sorter grinned at me and kinder flung out that I was afeared. r lander flung back that no mortal varmint on the face of this airth could bluff me, and he got off his hoss and camped down." Seated in Thejr "And you followed suit?" queried the colonel. "I had to or chaw my words. He's an ole bjurfer, but he can't skeer me off." "As to bluffin'," said the other, "Kill Wharton, which Is me, has never bin out bluffed by anythlu' on two legs or four, and it's too late to begin to crawfish now. If that old galoot kin stand a snowslide he'll find me right alongside of him to the bitter end." "You both realize the danger, do you?" asked the colonel. ' "We do," they replied, in chorus. "There's tens of thousands of tons of mhii&P' sir. 1 L9JT OPPORTUNITY- "NYLLA-VE5TIGTA-RLTR0K5YK BY - EPITfl - VTHQrlAS "There is a nest of thrushes in the glen; When we come back we'll see the glad young things," He said. We came not by that way agaln; Aud Time and thrushes faro on eager wings. "You rose" she smiled "but no; when we leturn I'll pluck it then." 'Twas on a summer day. The ashes of the rose in Autumn's urn Lie hidden well. We came not back that way. We do not.pabs the selfsame way again, O r, passing by that way, no thing we find snow up there ready to fall and bury this pasal" "Jest so," replied No. 1 , "but 1 kin sot ycre as long us he kin.' "And I'll see it out if It takes all winter," added the other. The colonel argued and appealed, but neither would be the first to give way. They had gone in for, a game of bluff, and their pride was at stake. When it was seen that talking would do no good, we rode on and left them, and, looking baok at the next turn of the trail, we saw them seated In tlieir blankets facing each other and waiting for a sign of weakness. A mile higher up the pack-saddle of one of the mules turned, and the animal floun dered about and went off thepath and down the slope. A great mass of snow went with him, and in a minute a 6lide was started. Away it went, booming, spread ing out and gathering force every second, and while we stood looking on there was arumbhngasof thunder.a crash that could be heard for miles, and Dead Man's Pass was filled from end to end with snow and rocks and splintered trees. "Bluffm' is all right wnen you are bluff in agin a man," said the colonel, as we iode on, "but when it comes to bluffin a snow slide. Jest count me out and call me a crawfish." A Fight Between Gentlemen. MILLIONS IN" PArNTTNG. Tho Hertford-Wallace Collection Is Worth $7,300,000. The celebrated Hertford-Wallace col lection of pictures bequeathed to the British nation by Lady Wallace is esti mated to be worth $7,300,000. Her magnanimity, says the Boston Transcript, is all the more noteworthy because she was struck off the queen's visiting list many years ago. Sir Richard Wallace died on July 20, 1S90, leaving behind him the most fa mous art collection of any Englishman. The whole of Sir Richard's great wealth and the peerless collection of pictures, which includes nineteen examples of Meissonier and fifteen of Greuze, were given to his wife for her own free dis position. Prior to his death, however, he ex pressed his wishes to liis wife that after her death his superb collection of works of art should go to England's national gal lery, and that his wish in this respect should Hlunkets. be carried out she arranged several years ago. The magnificent Hertford collection comprised, when it passed into Sir Itichard Wallace's hands, a splendid assortment of paintings, porcelains, bronzes, decorative furniture, jewelry, and other works of art. His own purchases during the past thirty years included many of the choicest examples of old Japanese art, which he was one of the first to bring to the attention of European connoisseurs; of the masters of the Italian -Renaissance, notable the productions la silver of Ben ventuno Celiul and his immediate fol lowers, and of modern French painters. . m KK - Asit before had been, but dearta. or stain. Hath come uponit, or the wasteful wind- The very earth is envious, and her anna Reach for the beauty that detained our eyes; Yea, It is lost beyond the aid of charms. If, once within our grasp, we leave the prize! Thou traveler to the unknown ocean's brink. Through Life's fair fields say not, "An other day Thl3 joy I'll prove;" for never, aa I think. Never shall we come back this selfsame way'. EDITH M. THOMAS. A GENTKET. AFFAIR. How ilr. Scott Met a Stranger Xamed Richards. One day a stranger came Into our camp at Yuba Bend, and after looking about for awhile he approached a miner named Scott and bowed aad smiled, and Inquired: "Kin you inform me If thar' is a gen tleman in this yere camp a reg'lar gen tleman?" "Thar be," promptly replied Mr- Scott, as he drew himself up- "I'm glad to h'ar it. I'm from the camp down at Dead Hill. They told me down, thar that I couldn't find a gentleman up here." "And who be yo'r demanded Scott- Tm a gentleman, sah a reg'lar gen tleman, and I'm delighted to meet yo My cognumen Is Richards. As a gentleman you must know the meaning of the word 'cognomen. " "In course I do," replied Scott, who had never heard the word before in his life. "Hev yo' any pertickler objecfc In view?" "I hev. As a gentleman I woald hka to hex- a little scrimmage with another gentleman. Yo'Jiev said yo was a gen tleman, and I'm gentleman 'nuff to taka yo'r word fur it." "Want a scrimmage, eh?" "I do. an' if yo kin accommodate ma I shall feel mighty obleeged." Scott had had a dozen different rows ia camp and always came off firat best, aad the idea of a scrap with a stranger struck him favorably. He thought the matter over for a minute, and then said: "I don't s"e no objeck.ibuns to a scrim mage, beia' asyo' ar hankeria arterone. but as a gentleman spe5kin to another gentleman it is my dooty to ware ye that I'm a powerful fighter." "That's lovely of yo," smiled the stran ger. "On my part I must warn yo' thas 1 snalflick ye outer yer butes Inside of three minits. Gentlemen should always hev" a far understandm in advance." "Would it be agin the manners of a gentlemen if I called ye a bluffer?" asked Scott, as he began peeling off. "Not under the sarcurastances," replied the stranger. "I was je3t about to ob sarve that ye was a duffer, aa' I hopa ye'll take no offense." "None at all, but ye ar a blamed liar!" "Thanks, and ye ar the samet I will now divest myself of my apparel and pul verize ye like n gentleman." "I'm ready 1" We talked about the fight for months afterward. The two came together and heaved and struggled for a minute, and the stranger broke away and gave Mr. Scott a rap on the jaw whleh sent him to grass and put him to sleep at the sama time. It was over In no time, and the stranger bowed and smiled right and left and said to the camp: "Give the entleiuan my comnlanents when he wakes up, and tell him that I hope thar will be no hard feelln's. I'm in a bit of a hurry or I'd stop and tell him mysclr. As a gentleman I bid yo' good day." He was half a mile a way when Mr. Scott opened his eyes and wanted to know what had happened. "Ye've bin licked," repHedone of the boys. -Who did it?" "A feller as said he was a gentiemaa andyo' was another." "Yas, I remember, and durn his hide." groaned the man, as he sat up and held his jaw. "Say, now, the, next time a feller comes along here and wants to know If we've got a gentleman in camp ye jist holler and let me hide among the rocks, fur I've gone outer the bizness to stay." America's Great Crop of Hay. Theproductionof Anierioanhayamounted to 65,000,000 tons in 1803, 33,000,000 tons in 1S94,-47,000,000 tons-in ISOuand 13,000,000 tons in 1896. In other words, the production of hay has declined one third in four years, and there has been a considerable, though not correspondingly large, decline In the market value of the cropdttrlngthefouryearssucceedingl892. Pittsburg Dispatch. This Cat Goes HuntiDg. There Is a cat that goes hunting at Hoisiagton, Kan., It makes Its home in the roundhouse, where a railroad man placed It to get warm one day when he found it half frozen in the street. The men made a practice of shooting birds for it, and now the cat will follow for a mile or more any man who carries a gun, nnd at sound of a shot will run for tho bird. Indianapolis News.