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THE SILENT CITY.
[The words “Conticuere omnes," from the irst line of the second book of the “./Eneid,” were found scrawled on a wall excavated at Pompeii.] '‘Silent they all became”—strange words to be Uncovered in the dust, w’here ages keep Their ruins, old and deep, Where in that buried city by the sea, In homes they builded and no longer need, Silent all are indeed! Did he whoso pencil traced the letters there Do it for love of the Virgilian phrase In those far distant days. Or see, by some presentiment, in the air The shadow of the undiscerning fate That laid all desolate ? These silent people, these whose names are fled. Who day by day walked this deserted place And saw each other’s face— We need not ask w hat human lives they led, Or with what prayers in that wrild storm of flame Silent they all became. Men of our kind, they loved the earth and air And joy of being, loved to buy and sell, Loved pleasure overwell; Knew hope, ambition, disappointment, care; Galled oft for help on some all pitying name; So till the silence came. Out of the dust that slumbers on the ground What sounds unto the poet’s ears arise, What visions to his eyes! Then in the present’s loud, tumultuous sound He finds what silences where men and walls Are as the dust that falls! —Samuel V. Cole in Critic. A PHANTOM VOICE. The vast circle of the horizon is un broken, yet here is no solitude, for birds in thousands sweep circling about, from the huge albatross, flying past at his 60 miles an hour, to the little swallowlike Mother Carey. The scene for the time is peaceful. The thundering storms which lash ocean’s face into fury and fill the air with hurrying wrack and sweeping rain are stilled. But though the surface of the water is smooth, save for little ripplets like those on the summer face of a river, the great bosom of the south Atlantic heaves in mighty pulsations to the long, rolling billows, which follow in a stately, end less procession and tell of some distant hurricane past or to come. Above, the great dome of heaven is a cold, steely blue, flecked here and there with cloud masses, snow white as Al pine peaks, reflecting in their shadows the colors of ocean’s face. The sinking sun flashes a sparkling glory over the scene, and the great cloud forms change tint after tint. As he declines westward above him shafts of light shoot up half way to the zenith. Bolling on the swell lies a boat. Three of its crew appear to live; of the others the living souls have fled. Two crouch with bowed heads. The third, a young fellow in his first man hood, looks wistfully round. The great birds flit by him with bright eyes. They do not settle yet. Once as a great billow lifts the boat skyward he thinks he sees, far away to the east, a silvery speck. What is it—a ship? Had tho God of that cruel blue sky beard his prayers? For he had been praying as few ever pray and seemed to have a feeling that he had been heard. Anxiously he waits for a huge wave to rush past and lift them again to the same altitude, but it comes not, and the euu sets. They have robbed their dead comrades of their coats, and now the three huddle together for warmth and meager com fort, for another awful night is before them. Will dawn see them alive? The nearest succor is 00 miles away. In a highly decorated apartment, half divan, half sitting room in appearance, a thin, w iry man sprawls on a couch. He is smoking a Burmese cheroot, one of a stock he laid in last voyage, but he does not appear to be in that calm, peaceful frame of mind which is neces sary for the full enjoyment of the blessed weed—nor is he. Captain Abel Cushman of the Aineri oan ship Paul Revere has a fine craft under him, a strong crew, good officers; has made a smart passage this far, and yet is greatly troubled. An hour ago he woke from his after dinner nap “ ’most scared to death.” A young man, a stranger, had stood over him and said, ‘‘Steer west by south.” Even when he had opened his eyes there stood the stranger, who, as the skipper lifted himself up, vanished. This happened some half hour since ‘‘Waal, I swan to gracious!” said the captain. ‘‘West by south, hey: Naow, what in thunder did it mean?” He began pacing up and down bis lit tle saloon, muttering and thinking. Many old sea yarns uncut similar cir oumstances came into his mind, and a strong feeling was creeping over him that he must obey this supernatural or der. And yet a merchant skipper does not care to pose as a fool in the eyes of his crew. “What will the boys think?” he mut tered. “Cush, my sonny, 1 guess you’s bewitched.” His roving eyes fell on a book which lay on a little side table. Aimlessly he took it up, and as he did so—was it mere fancy?—again the voice spoke, “Steer west by south.” He dropped the book, whispering in wonder, “Waal, I dew 1” The volume had fallen open and lay at his feet. As he picked it up he saw it was a Bible. “Cush,” he whispered to himself, “that was spoken on the gorspels. ” He turned over the pages and looked at the fly leaf: “Eliphalet Coleby. From his loving wife, Mizpah.” His brows contracted. He was trying to remember the method of some modern “sortes” which the old women at home used to practice—something to do with a key. Presently he again muttered to him self, “There ain’t no harm anyhow.” Opening the book at random, he laid it on the table and placed a forefinger on the open page. Then ho looked at the verse thus seleoted. “There came out two women, and the vyind .was in their wW “Waal, ” he whispered, “there ain’t * particle of sense in that!” Again he turned as if to walk away and looked wildly round. The same voice seemed to have whispered in his ear once more. He hesitated no longer. Going up the companion into the glory of the sunset, lie called to the seaman at the wheel: “Hi, you thar !” “Sir?” “Sing out to the mate I want him.” In a few moments a stout, red faced man stepped up. He had no coat on, but wore a waistcoat cut low, showing a large expanse of shirt front, in the cen ter of which sparkled what might have been a diamond. He came forward fon dling a long goatee whisker. “D’you want me, Cap’n Cushman?” “Yes. Put her round on the other tack and stand west by south.” “Right!” answered Coleby (for be was the owner of the Bible), and, turn ing, be began to shout out his orders to “’bout ship!” “Say, Coleby, your Testament’s lay in around; you’d best take it.” And Captain Cushman handed him the book, as though glad to be rid of such an un reliable guide. Then as the men began to tumble along to their stations he again descend ed to the saloon, softly whistling “The Arkansas Traveler. ” He began to solilo quize: “Now am I durned fool or not? Any how, a few hours on a west by sou’ course won’t do us a power of harm. Wonder what Coleby thought? I’ll have him on a string directly. Guess if 1 hear any more of them voices I shall begin to think I’ve got the jumps. That Testament warn’t worth much. ‘Wom en with wind in their wings!’ I guessa mite more in our wings wouldn’t hurt us. It’s powerful near a calm.” On deck the tramp of feet and the yelling of the men told him that the maneuver he had ordered was being performed. Again he went ou deck. The ship was “round,” and her head lay to the point given. “I’ll keep her so till daylight, ” mur mured the skipper. The mate stepped up and reported that the command had been executed. There was a twinkle in Captain Cush man’s eye as he answered, “Very good!” He was amused at the puzzled look iu the mate’s face. Dawn was long com ing. For many hours the captain of the Paul Revere had paced the deck, to the increasing wonder of Mr. Coleby. At the first gray streak of light he had given one short order: “Send a man on the topsail yard and let him keep a smart lookout.” Presently as the day came on and the horizon crept into view he stepped up to the mate. “Say, Coleby, I guess you are won dering whar I’m hound, eh? Wa-al, I'm seekiii New Jerusalem.” “It don’t make a mite of difference to me, Cap’ll Cushman,” retorted Cole by. “I didn’t care if you was bound to”— "On deck tliar!” A voice high above them stopped the statement of Coleby’s Supposititious port, which was possibly in a warmer and less serene clime than tiiat of his commander. “’Lo!” cried Coleby, looking aloft. “Thar's somethin afloat away down ou the lee bow.” Captain Cushman woke to life. “By' the gee hokey!” he shouted. Then, “What do you make of it?” he yelled up to the lookout. “I can’t rightly say. Might he a dead wbale or a boat. 'Taiu’t such a mighty big thing anyhow. ” Captain Cushman sprawled spiderlike up the ratlines and, having gained the rnizzen top, directed his spyglass to the distant object. “By thunder, Coleby, thar’s a boat!” In half an hour two rescued men were being tended as carefully as though by women's fingers, in the terror of the past night the other had crossed the river of death. It was many hours before the younger of the two could speak. Then Captain Cushman interviewed him. “Guess we've met once before.” “I—thought —your—face—was—fa miliar, sir.” “Aboard this packet?” “No. I have never been aboard here. ” “Guess you have, though, and your God sent you. ” Xhe young fellow stared. “Could you walk into my sal-0011?” said the captain persuasively. “I think so. ” “Come right away, then.” They entered. Immediately the young fellow’s eyes showed recognition of his surroundings “Yes,” he said, "I was here—when? I thought there was a book on that ta ble, and, yes. you were lying there smoking. I must have dreamed it. ” “Nary a dream,'' said Captain Cush man solemnly.—London Answers. A Kentucky Procession. “There came into a little town down on the western Kentucky border one day one of the oddest looking proces sions I ever laughed uiy sides sore at,” said Dr. Hiram French last night. “It was a man mounted on a mule, and to the mule’s caudal appendage the rider had tied a rope, the other end of which w’as around the neck of a cow. Tied around the cow's tail was another rope and the other end of it around the neck of a calf, and a third rope led a razor back hog. The porker, too, had to do service as a leader, for it pulled along a brindle cur. The man was an eoceutric old bachelor farmer, clad in blue jeans, who lived on the Tennessee river, and as he will have no men on his place he does all of his work himself. He wanted | to sell the cow, calf and hog and had promised to give a friend the old ooon dog which brought up the rear, and as none of the animals could be driven the rural geuius had hit upon the novel plan of leading them all. The sextet of ouriosities had made the trip—over 20 miles—without accident."—Louisville Poat WORK OF THE JUNTA. ITS MEMBERS JUST AS PATRIOTIC AND USEFUL AS THOSE WHO FIGHT. Mont of Tlinn, Too, Have Been Gallant Soldiers and Stay In Thin Country Be caune They Are Needed Ilere More Than In Cuba, The slurs which have been from time to time cast upon the Cuban patriots who re side in the United States and are promi nent in the organization commonly known as the junta most people recognize as un just. IJo Lome, the disgraced Spanish minister, characterized them as “cowards who are afraid to fight, but who stay here and do the talking.” Coming from such a source the gallant Cubans to whom he referred never took [rains to reply to the slander. As a matter of fact, nearly every one of the Cubans prominent in the junta have already proved their mettle on Cuban bat tlefields. Minister Palma himself served in the ten years’ war with bravery and distinction. General Nunez, Dr. Castillo and Dr. Jose Lanuza, who are among the most uctivo of the resident Cubans, all have earned laurels on the field. But it is not because they have done a certain amount of fighting and are entitled to peace that the members of the junta romain in the United States. They are here because it is hero that they can best serve the cause of free Cuba. Properly speaking, thero is no such in stitution in the United States as a Cuban junta. General Marti, who brought about the present rebellion and who afterward was brutally cut to pieces at the battle of Dos Rios, found that a junta could not legally be organized, and the plans which had been made for such a body were* changed, and it was deoided that the Cu ban republic be represented in the United States by a delegation. It must be acknowledged that with the means at its disposal the junta has accom MINISTER PALMA. plished wonders iorCuba. In a diplomatic way Minister Palma, Gonzales de Quesada and others havo kept alive the sentiment in favor of their struggling brethren at Washington. There they havo gained the respect and confidence of the men in charge of the affairs of onr government. Even when the Cleveland administration was most opposed to any act of intervention on the part of the United .States Senors Palma and Quesada were always accorded the highest consideration at the hands of the president and his secrotary of state. In the matter of obtaining and forward ing supplies for the insurgents in the field the junta has done remarkable work. In one year a greater amount of arms and ammunition was sent to the island than had been forwarded in the entire ten years’ war. This department, under the direction of General Nunez, has been the hope of the struggling patriots. When Gomez was most sorely pressed and when the star of Cuba appeared to be on the wane because of a lack of muni tions of war, the commissary department of the junta came to the rescue, and suc cor was given the almost hopeless patriots who were fighting against such fearful odds in the hills of Cuba. The direction of affairs of tho junta in this country lias been eminently satisfac tory to the Cubans at home and abroad. Time and again President Cisneros and General Gomez have commented with un stinted praiso upon the good work accom plished by Minister Palma, Dr. Guiteras, General Nunez, Mr. Quesada, Dr. Castillo, Treasurer Guerra, Dr. Lanuza and others who have been identified prominently with the conduct of the junta. Tomas Estrada Palma, delegate and minister plenipotentiary of the Cuban re public and bead of tho so called junta, was born in Bayamo, Cuba, in July, 1835. Though a man of small physique and of an exceedingly retiring manner, General Palma fought gallantly in the fierce and uneven conflict that raged from 18i>8 to 1878. Ho was always a patriot, who loved his country sufficiently well to fight for her in tho field or on the rostrum. During the present struggle he has several times expressed a desire to return to the island and battle at (lie side of Gomez and Ma teo, but his superiors would not consent, regarding his services in the capacity of GONZALES DE QUESADA. minister to the United States too valuable to bo dispensed with, although there was ho doubt as to his ability as a soldier in the army. He was elected president of the short lived Cuban republic in 1876, but not long after that he was captured and sent a prisoner to Spain. He came to the United States at the end of the war and founded a school for Latin-Amerioan in Central Valley, N. Y. Upon the death of Marti INDIVISIBLE ▲ moment face to face they stood, While soul met soul in honest eyes That trembling glowed through unshed tears, Born of a love that never dies. They met to speak the saddest word That e'er on human lips can dwell. But, oh, the mockery to dream That such as these could take farewell 1 For as two roseate clouds unite In wake of the departed sun, Their kindred essence pure and =weet. These twain had softly mergecftn one. They might be severed pole from pole, Might live through all the years apart. What mattered time and space to them Whose home was in each other’s heart ? He craved a tre3s of that fine gold Whose wavy wreaths her forehead graced. Bending to grant the boon, he clasped A zone of pearl about her waist. A moment more, and he was gone From sight, naught else. High heart and mind, Stronghold of tenderness and truth, Defied the hour and staid behind! The seasons rolled, and ne’er again Thus face to face ’twas theirs to stand. Yet heart to heart they walked the world On to the goal, the silent land. Ob. gift of gifts, a noble soul * at wraps our own in full embrace Tib all mean things in love’s great sea Aie lost and .-:elf hath no more place! —Jane C. Simpson in Good Words. A COLLEGE CALL. “The stories printed about Smith col lect lately appeal tome very strangely,” said a Harvard man. “Man is of so small a part in it all. A senior year ex perience of mine will illustrate. “When I met the girl, I didn’t know she was a college girl. The front of her waist was decorated with crazy shaped jewelry of various sorts, but I was not sufficiently enlightened at the time to know that they denoted the feminine life academic. She was a mighty nice girl. She wasn’t afraid to wet her bath ing suit. She did't mind chasing around in the mud after her own fiddler crabs, and, more wonderful still, she wouldn’t even shudder when they crunched as she ran the hook through them. She was no stern, analytical, cold blooded thing either. You ought to have heard her yell when the fish bit; also, she knew enough when her hand was squeezed to squeeze back. I had a very interesting summer of it. In the course of the sea son I learned, of course, that she was a Smith girl, just as I learned where she lived and who her folks were and what her first name was and that she wasn’t engaged to anybody (and never meant to be) and all that sort of thing. The Smith part didn’t bother me at all. I began to feel that she was a type. The higher education was the thing woman had needed all these years to make her a little more rather than a little less than the angels. “At the end of the season my goose was cooked all right, but I lacked sand. I wanted time to think it over. I also had a sneaking idea that perhaps after we had been separated for awhile the girl wouldn't be so all fired indifferent to personal considerations and my pass ing tentative expressions of interest in our future existence. I asked her if 1 could come up to Northampton to see her ami if I couldn’t take her to the Y'ale-Harvard football game at Spring field. She fairly grabbed at the chance to go to the game. She had never been to a Springfield game, she said, except with an Amherst man, and that, of course, didn’t count. It would be too awfully jolly for any use to go with a Harvard man. 1 suggested that I would like to go over to Northampton a week or two be fore the game. Of course she said 1 must. Just at the time of the game there were so many men in the chapel every morning that there was no partic ular glory in having one there. But about two or three weeks before the game it would be glorious to have a real Harvard man in chapel all by his lonesome. “Somehow this sort of response was not altogether satisfying, but I was too enthusiastic to inquire too curiously. In the fullness of elapsed time I don't mind telling you that I had some pretty definite plans about that visit to North ampton. In meditative moments I had pleasing ideas about certain confidences I would make to the boys before I ap peared with the girl at the game. “I went to Northampton. I arrived on a Thursday evening. I went to the cottage where she lived. I waited halt an hour before she came down. Then she appeared with her hat on. “ ‘I’m so glad you've come, ’ she said, ‘and I’m so sorry that I have a voice club meeting to attmd to! The presi dent is sick, and I'm the vice president, so I really have to go. I’m really awful ly late now. You may walk over with mo if you like. ’ “It was about three minutes’ walk. She told me in that time how to come to chapel the next morning. “I went back to the Norwood and re tired to the little box in the basement that they could call a cafe and con templated things. After awhile the things contemplated became less gloomy. I met two Amherst men down there and told them my experience and disappointment. They looked at each other and laughed a good deul and said that it was rather strange, considering that I was not an Amherst man. They were rather bitter about it and not alto gether polite, and I went to bed. “I went to chapel in the morning. The girl was waiting for me in the vestibule. I was looked over imperson ally by 600 or more young women as they came in, also when they went out. Then I was told to hurry away like a good boy and come back after dinner, say, about 8 o’clock. I gently intimated that 12 hours in Northampton was a lonely prospect. She was awfully sorry, of course, but there was an especially important basket ball practice that aft ernoon. If she staid away, she wouldn’t be allowed to play in the match game the next day. Might I come to watch the practice? Good gracious, no! Men gnmea, and then only the very oldest and marriedest members of the faculty. “I went over to Amherst and saw some fellows I knew over there. The man I knew best was going to have a beautiful time in his rooms that night. The window seat bulged with beer bot tles. Ho wanted me to stay, but I re gretfully broke away and went back to Northampton. I reached the cottage at 7:55. The girl was in the reception room waiting for me. “ ‘Goodness, but you are late!’ said she. ‘I came very near goiDg without waiting for you. Astronomy lecture this morning was postponed until tonight, so that we could have the real stars, you know. I'm sorry, but of course it isn’t my fault. I know you don't want to wander around town tonight, so I have asked my roommate to come down and talk to you. ’ “She went up into the hall and called her roommate, who was short and glob ular and wanted to discuss Kant in re lation to the future of woman. She wanted to know also what that dear Professor James of Harvard was like and whether I had ever heard him ex plain what he meant by certain passages in his blamed old textbook. She went to her room and brought down the text book to show exactly what she meant. After an hour and a half I fled to the cafe of the Norwood. “Next morning I went to chapel again, as had been ordained by the evanescent young woman before she trotted away to look at the stars. Then she went away to the basket hall match game. She said that if I wanted to walk down by the gymnasium I could have lots of fun hearing them cheer. I thank ed her. She told me to come around at about 4 o’clock and we would go for a trolley ride to Florence. I didn’t go down to the gymnasium to hear the girls yell, but my drooping spirits re vived. I found that Florence wasn't much of a town, only a settlement real ly, and was five or six miles out in the country. i was at the cottage promptly at 3 o’clock, also at 4 o’clock. She came down very penitent at 4:15; said she was awfully put out, but the board of editors of some blamed magazine or other had bad a meeting, and she didn’t dare to stay away a minnte for fear they would vote to print an article by a girl she just simply hated. They had been trying to get it printed against her will for two months, and she didn’t in tend that they should take advantage of the fact she had a man in town to slip it in, so there! “We got on the car. So did 13 girls who seemed most interested in us. The car swung its rattling way out into the country. We talked about scenery. I saw lots of groves and shady lanes along the way. I spoke about them once or twice. “ ‘It's ever so much prettier near Florence,* she said. “We ran off on a siding, and the 18 girls climbed out and began seeking as ters and things beside the track. “ ‘Goodness!’ said the girl. ‘They are getting their botany specimens. I had forgotten all about mine. Won’t you get some for me? That’s a nice boy !’ “I did. The car started and sailed away while I was picking the lovely things. I chased a quarter of a mile. The 18 young ladies back near the sid ing were amused. “ ‘Look at your watch, please,’ said the girl. I did so. She saw it and was much perturbtd. ‘I'm going to be late for dinner, ’ she said, ‘and it will be the third time this year.' “ ‘Why,’ said I, ‘aren’t we going to get off?’ “Goodness, no! We are going back on this car as fast as it can go. ’ “‘But I haven’t seen Florence,’ I wailed. “‘Silly goose,' she said, ‘this is Florence!’ “ We only stopped once on the way back. That once was at the siding, and all the 18 girls piled on again. They remembered me, I saw. “ ‘Phi Kappa meets tonight, ’ said the girl as we hurried into the campus, ‘and of course I have to go. Chapel to morrow'— “She said a lot more, but I confess I didn't hear her. Siie was very much surprised when I told her I couldn't possibly stay over. “ ‘Anyhow, perhaps it’s just as well,' she said, ‘because you couldn't come to the house on Sunday. ’ “Yes, 1 took her to the game. I be lieve she bad a good time. I have seen her once or twice since. But I don’t think as much of the higher education of women as I did.’’—New Y'ork Sun. Hr Wouldn’t. Fact and Fiction prints—under the head of fact, we may assume—what purports to be the application of a man who wanted to be an army chaplain during the administration of President Lincoln: Attached to it are a number of in dorsements which are not only interest ing in themselves, but as disclosing the characters of the two men whose influ ence largely molded the policy of the government in those turbulent times. The indorsements read as follows: Dear Stanton—Appoint this man chaplain in the army.—A. Lincoln. Dear Mr. Lincoln—He is not a preach er.—E. M. Stanton. The following indorsements are dated a few months later, but come just be low : Dear Stanton—He is now.—A. Lin coln. Dear Mr. Lincoln—But there is no vacancy.—E. M. Stanton. Dear Stanton—Appoint him chaplain at large.—A. Lincoln. Dear Mr. Lincoln—There is no war rant of law for that.—E. M. Stanton. Dear Stanton—Appoint him anyhow. —A. Lincoln. Dear Mr. Lincoln—I will not.—E. M. Stanton. 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