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THE -:- TRUE :- DE OCRAT.
PUBLISHED WEEKLY AT ST. FRANCISVILLE, LOUITANA. Fully one-third of the land in Great Britain is owned by meimb,:r rof the I House of Lords. There are more than 200,)0)0 vol umes in the National Library of Mex ico, and a(lditions are being made by every steamer from New York anl Europl The work of extending stlstantial aid to the sut'ring thonsisaris of Ar menia goes bravely on: in the t'cited States, while Europe is busy evading the question of Christianity and humaunty ver's:us political expe!Aieacy and the balance:lu of power. St. PIaul'i, Univ.,rsalist church of Chic,,go. often e lied "'the church of the miliio:aires," because of i;s ex tremely wealthy cogregation, wiill very soon start an aitvurtising cant paign. The object of the advertising is to attract the masses, and thua ex tend the scope of the church's work. Two-headed snakes, like inventions, seem to originate simultaneously in different phices, notes the New Ylork Sun. Just as one is being exhibited alive as a curiosity in New York, Pro fessor A. L. Metz of the 'T'ulanu Uni versity Medical School at New Orleans is exhibiting one, preserved in alcohol, which lie got recently at Bayou Goula. An Engliskman, now in Washing ton, says: "The poor man in this country seems to be more self-respect ing than the chronic pauper that has made the name of Whitechapel noto rious all over the world. The latter is in such abject poverty that lihe has lost all hope of ever bettering his cou dition. How the miserable wretches live is a mystery. And when it comes to the women this Nation has an im mense advantage. Your women do not frequent public drinking-houses. It iasthe greatest disgrace of London that the women of the poorer class are as good customers of the liquor shops as the men, and worse still, the poison is handed them across the iar by one of their own sex. In East London children of tender years ac company their mothers into such places." Professor George Beyer, who ex amined the prehistoric moulds at Catahoula, La., insists that he has found a sort of "missing link," and has some remarkably shapedl anthro poid skulls in support of his theory. The skeletons disinterred by him were those of men over six feet in height, bht the skulls are difflerent in shape from tho.se of any mound-builders unuearthed, but correslpondl withi some found in Brazil of a very ancient date. There is an almost entire absence of forehead, but nothing to indicate that this was accompiishlied by artilicial mneans, as in the case of the Fiathead Iudians; and the skulls were three fourths of an inch thick. The Louis iana Historical Society was not pre pared to accept the Catahoula mnound builders as "''the missing linik" on this evidence; but professor Beyer will submit the skulls to other arCehu Ilo gists for an opinion as to what kind of being they represent. Mr. J. D. O'Connell, of the Bureau of Statistics in tile Treasury Depart meont at Washington, prints in the New York Sun an open letter to Pre sident Eliot, of lharvardl, whom he takes to task very courteoudy for neglecting to, give due attention, in a recent magazine article on "Five American Contributions to Civiliza tion," to what the Irish have contri buted to the United States. Mr. O'Connell attacks Dr. Eliot's assump tion that the "lngliuh race" preldomi. nated in this country in the eighteenth century, and gives interesting reasons for his belief that there wore more people who derived from Ireland than from E:ngland anmng the eighteenth oentury Americans. He makes it clear, explai~lt Harper's Weekly, where a good part of the hitch is, however, when he claims all the Scotch-Irish emigrants to America as Irish. Irish they certainly were, to be suro,if they were born and lived in Ireland, but to describe a Scotch-Irishmn as an Irish man is to discribe him very insufli ciently. "Irishmauu"conveys one idea; "Scotch-lrishman" another; and as long as there is so very substantial a disparity between the ideas conveyed it is a waste of ink to argue that one word would serve for both. Neverthe. I less, Mr. O'Connell's exposition of the 'alue of Ireland's early contributions to the American republic is interest. ing and is a part of our history that is not generally appreciated. .. A BIT OF LIFE, ; A maiden sat within the oor And sang as many 1 is before. A man to daily t.il passed by, No love ". piealroe lit his eye, But when he heiril the merry ,. g iHe whistle..l as he went along. A woman by the window wept For ono who in the e)tlrcehyard sil";, But when upon htier hearing fell That tune she knew and loved so well, Thie flood of burning tears was stayc1, And soon a song her lips esayed. Her neighbor heard the tender strain, And softly joined the sweet refrain. Thus, all day long that one song bore Its joyousness from door to door. .-Clara J. Denton, in Ladies' Hom:ne Journal. A JUMP FOR FREEDOMI I[ yes, at s'teady 10 t, S1it s drivers? < Well, o have to be, there's no choice in the ý14 matter. I) r ving fl ,,. wants a clear head, and a . . lnan who can make up his mind what to do i a mo - ment. T h e majority of people don't half realize the work there is to do, or the re sponsibilities of the "foot-plate." I often think, myself, the differ ence there is between us chaps and the captain of a Channel boat. I used to think of it more when I was on the "Son'-Western," running the Continnental train to Southampton. Maybe 1 had a couple of hundred lives in tow; but 1'11 venture to say very few of them thought of the man who had them and the train in sole charge, fe: though the fireman's along with you, the driver is responsible for ev erything, including him. Yet when the passengers stepped aboard the Channel boat, if they got a glimpse of the captain they'd look at him wiih a kind of awe. I don't say all this but of jealousy, but I've often thought if we had a uni form, with gold lace round our caps and collars and an engine worked on our shoulders, folks who were going a long journey would think more of us, and say: "That's our driver," just as you hear them remark "That's our captain." Still, as .I say, I wouldn't change. There's a charm about the "foot-plate" and a pride in your engine that only a driver knows. Why, I've seen men get quite affectionate over a favorite engine, and almost cry when they were changed to another. Adventures? Well, the life's full of adventures, more or less; not very interesting to the general public, perhaps, but ex citing enough to us. Stop, though. I can tell you one adventure I had years ago, which will interest you--about the most remarkable thing that ever happened to me, and about as curious an affair as you could hind in the his tory of the line, I reckon. It was while I was. on the Sou'-Western, and before I became a regular express driver. Before you can quite understand it, I must tell you something about the line itself. From Clapham Junction to Hampton Court there are four lines of rails, two of them used for up and down "fast" trains, and the others for up and dlown "slow." You have the same sort of thing on some of the other lines; the London and Northwestern, for instance, has four lines as far as Roade, beyond Bletchiley, only they are worked differently to the South western. The London and North-Westcern run their up and down fast trains on the two left hand lines of rails from Eus ton, and the up and down slow on the two right hand, so that, when two trains are going in the same direc tion there is always a line of metals between them. But from Clapham to Hampton Court Junction the outer left hand rail is used for slow, and the next to it, the inner left hand, for fast, the outer right and inner right being used for up-slow and fast re spectively. The "up-slow"extends all the way to Woking, but this has nothing to do with my story. Thus, you see, if one train plasses another going in the same direction. the trains are close together. Some times I have known two trains travel alongside each other at the same rate for two or three minutes, and more than once I have spoken from my en gine to the driver of another train, and given or received a bit of 'bacey when we were going at the rate of forty or fifty miles an hour. The Northern system is generally consid ered to be the better of the two, but the South-Western still sticks to the other plan. One day, in the winter of 188i-, there had been a special cheap excur sion from Portsmouth to Waterloo; I forget what the occasion was; but, anuyhow, I was detailed on duty to take this train back to Portsmouth. We were to start at 9.27, and as far as IHampton Court Junction to run on the outer, or slow, line. The last train before us was the nine o'clock, so you see we expected a clear run. We were not to stop anywhere before reaching Portsmouth. The train was a heavy one, as a good number of people had taken ad vantage of the excureion, and it seemed that we should hardly get off to time. As a matter of fact, howev er, we iere only two minutes late in starting, and were soon bowling away merrily towards the south. The boat express to Southampton leaves Waterloo at 9.35, and runs from there to Basingstoke without a stop, traveling to Hampton Court Junction on the fast line. We haed iust passed Ryan's Park when I heard the approaching roar of the express coming down behind us. We were traveling a good forty miles an hour at the time, and the other train began to pass ours very slowly. Presently the express engine wa', alongside ours, and the driver sang out a cheery "What ho! mate," as the two "cabs" came together. Creeping gradually past us, the carriages of the boat train became visible. and as I glanced at them I could ditinguish the passen gers plainly. Five coaches had al ready passed usn, when 1 stood well on the loft-hand side of the foot-plate, furthest from the other train, to al low my firemen to perform his office. At this moment my engine put on a little spurt, and the two trains were running almost exactly at the same pace, the other just slightly gaining. I happened to glance over my shoul der, when, to rmy astonishment, I saw a man in the other train deliberately opening the door of his compartment, which was just drawing opposite to the "cab" of my engine. Before 1 could recover from my surprise he had ptepped out on the footboard of the carriage, and in another second he sprang upon the foot-plate of my en gine, clutching at the rail on the cab, while the door of the carriage he had left, obeying the motion of the train, shut with a slam. In an agony of terror, my mate and I seized him and dragged him into a position of safety, while the other train spurted forward and passed us. For a moment or two neither of us spoke. I was the first to recover my presence of mind, and the habit of ,inty mastered my curiosity for the in stant. "Hold on here." I shouted, "Jim, fire her up, man; wait till we get through Woking-then we'll see to him. Steady, sir! Keep over in that corner, please, and thank Providence you're not a dead man." "Mad, I should think," said my fireman, as he set to work again shov elling on the coals, while I riveted my attention to the mass of red and green lights we were over and anon ap proaching and passing. At Hampton Court Junction we were switched on to the "fast" line, follow ing the boat-express by about six minutes, and in half an hour or so we were through Woking, and then I turned to the stranger. He was a young man, clean shaven. and well dressed; deadly pale and trembling, clutching hard at the support. The foot-plate's a bit shaky to a novice. "Are you mad, sir? Do you know you've had a fearful escape? What, in the name of all that's wonderful, do you mean by it?" "N-no; I'm not mad. I-I was forced to do it." "Forced to db it? Why, you were alone in the carriage, as far as I could see." "Yes, yes, I know that. But I was desperate. I'll explain everything." "Wait a minute or two; I can't at tend now. Tell me when we're through Guildford." How he started as we entered the Guildford tunnel just beyend the station! I thought he'd fall at first, and my mate had to hold on to him for a minute. When we were clear of the tunnel, I asked him for his ex planation. "I wanted to escape," he said, "and it was the only way." "Escape? Who from?. The police, I suppose? Well, don't you think you've done that, my friend?" "No, no, no I Not from the police. I'm not a criminal. Listen, and I'll tell you. I've got mixed up with a terrible secret society-a set of people composed of the very worst sort of Anarchists--menou of several Nations. It would be too long a story to tell you how I came to join it, but when once among such people, there is no draw ing back. We were pledged with the most awful oaths to secrecy, and ter rible penalties were ordained for those who proved traitors. I would have given anything to set myself free, but it was imposhbl. "Well, one evening last week we held a meeting to determine the per formance of an awful act. I can't tell you exactly the truth, but I will go so far as to say it was the assassination as a certain great personage on the Continent. We drew lots, in order that the assasiin might be chosen. The lot fell upon me. In vain I begged to be excused, the others were relentless, and the president said to me: "'George Felton, you have sworn obedience, and obey you must. The lot has fallen upon you, and you must perform the deed. If you refuse, or if you even hesitate, there is only one penalty, and that you know. It is death, and it is useless for you to try to escape from it. This is ow ysu will proceed: Until Thursday you will be carefully watched. The even ing of that day you will take the boat train via. South-mpton and Havre for Paris. You will travel by that route because it is the less frequented. You willgo absolutely alone,but every step you will be watched. The "brethren" will be posted all along the line of route. At Waterloo two of the men will watch you into the train. At Basingmr te two others will keep their eyes on you while the train is stopping there. At Southampton you will be watched on board the boat, and the same thing will happen at Havre and Rouen, your only stoping places. At Paris you will be met by two comrades, who will keep you in view until the final arrangements have been made, when you will be told how to act. So do not think to escape, as every movement will be watched,'" The train flew on; my mate and I were interested, as you may well guess. He paused for a moment to allow of the engine being coaled once more, then I said: "But you might have stopped the train by pulling the communicator, and-" "I'm coming to that. I had thought of trying to escape thus, but just as the train moved ount of the I station a little note was thrown in at the window by a 'comrade,' who had been watching me. I opened it and read as follows: "We never thought the other night that perhaps you might try to escape by stopping the train en route and jumping oft. In case such an idea has entered your he.ad, you may as well know that the "brothers" are on the train. You know what that minans. You are help less. Be brave for, the sake of the "cause." ' " "Have you got that letter?" said the fireman. "No; I tore it up. Well, I tell you, I was deepera:te. I had half made up my mind to jump and risk it, when we gradually began to pass your train. I was alone in my comprt ment, and could see the well-filled carriages close to me. I sat looking at them mechanically, when the idea suddeniy seized me, and I asked my self the question: 'Why shouldn't I change trains?' 3 this time I was opposite to the :nu:-=.i's van in the front, and there was no'; a moment to be lost. It was too' late try for that when I opened the door, and my only course w.as to jump on to your engine. Thank God, I did s saifely!" "Aye, you've had a lucky escape, and you may well thank God. Well, what,', to be done now?" "Where are you bound for?" "Portsmouth." "Do you stop anywhere first?" "'No. " "Well, look here. Can't I slip off on the outer side as we come into the station?" "I don't know so much about that. You've come on the foot-plate unin vited, and you ought to give an ac count of it to the authorities. If I let you get off without, I'm liable for a row myself. Besides, hew are we to know your story's true?" "Before God I swear it's true. And no one need ever know I was here. I'll make it well worth your while. Besides," he added, piteously, "it's my only chance. When they know I've escaped they'll search high and low. If this isn't kept quiet they'il know about if before I have the start of them, and that means certain'death. I couldn't escape. As it is, I've got money enough to get well out of the country before they know." Well, it seemed rough enough on the poor chap, but my mate stuck out against letting him go. I argued the matter out with him as well as I could, and he was beginning to come round to my point of view when I suddenly exclaimed: "Look out, mate, there's a block at Peterstield." The distant signal was shining with a red light instead of A green, and we put on the brakes until thu train was almost at a standstill. "For God's sake, let me get off," begged the stranger. My mate and I looked at one anoth er. The train came to a stop close to the signal. "Don't refuse me. See here," and he held out five sovereigns and liter ally pressed them into my hand. I looked at Jim again. He nodded. "All right, get off and keep quiet till we've gone on. Good luck to you. Here, I don't want your money." But he was gone in a moment. Then the semaphore arm fell with a crash, the green light shone out, and we started once again; nor did we stop till we had reached Portsmouth. Later on, my mate and I:I talked the matter ovar between us, and agreed that we would not mention it to any one, as it was better for all that it should be kept quiet. Then I offered him half the money. "No," said he, "I won:t take it. If his story's true, it's something like the price of blood. They must have given him the cash for his journey and expenses." I hadn't seen it in that light. "Well, mate, I believe you're right. I never thought of that. I sha'n't touch it either. I couldn't bring my self to do it. But what shall we do with it?" Finally, we agreed to send it anony mously to a railway charity, and the next morning we did so. Two days after that, I waa off duty, when the fireman came round to my house, with a curious expression on his face and a newspaper in his hand. "Read that," he said, quickly point ing to a paragraph. I read as fol lows: "IYSTERIIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 0" A CIRI INAL. "Oh Thursday evening last a strange occurrence, the facts of which are unknown, must have taken place somewhere on the main line of the Southwestern Railway between Water loo and Basingstoke. Our readers will remember the case of embezzle ment and forgery at the head oflices of the 'Amalgamated General European and Colonial Exchange,' a forgery on a large scale, in which the under cash ier, Charles Winfield, a clever, and unfortunately well-trusted young man, was deeply implicated. Winfield, by some means, managed to escape arrest and the police have been assiduously following' his track since. On the evening in question Detective Baxter, of Scotland Yard, recognized Winield in a first-class compartment of the 9.35 boat-train from Waterloo to Southampton. TFhe train was just moving out of the station, and it was impossible for the detective to get in, but he ran along the platform by the side of the window, clearly identified his man, took the number of the car riage, and noticed which compartment it was, and immediately wired to Ba ingstroke, the first stopping place. When, however, the train arrived at this place the police, who had assem bled on the platform, found no trace of the criminal. It was ascertained that the train had not pulled up once; the particular compartment was empty, but a thorough search was made throuighout the train, it being thought that he might have changed carriages by the foot board. It is supposed that Winfield recognized the fact than 'he i had been discqverol' at the last mo 1 ment on his way to the Continent,and guessing that he would be arrested at 1 Basingstroke, must have jumped off the Irain in a moment of desperation. Whether the unhappy man was killed or escaped remains a mystery, no trace of him having beeni discovered." 1 "What do you think of that !" said my mate. 3 "Well," I said, "I think he half de served to escape on account of his I pluck. " And-well, he was the finest liar I've ever met!" The fireman nodded his head slowly, f and then said: "Well, I had my doubts most of the r time. He was too fine a liar for me !" --Strand Magazine. A Canine ('oton-tPicker. i Among the great many almost de crepit old women who earn a rather I precarious livelihood by picking no s and reselling the waste cotton that a falls from the bales about the streets 3 and warehouses in New Orleans, La., t is one well known'among the brokers r who goes by the whimsical cognomen of Mom Katrine. Mom Katrine is a little bit of a wizened colored woman, almost too old to walke and quite too blind to see, but she owns an unfailing source of revenue in.the shape of a little black and tan terror, Voudoo by name, that is as expert a cotton-picker as one would wish to see. Every morning, by the time the sun has warmed the e edge off the .day, Mom Katrine and Vandoo appear on the street, the old woman usually to take her seat on the curbing, while the dog begins his daily task of cotton-gathering. Von I doe's energy in this unwonted occupa r tion is somewhat marvelous, so the e warehousemen say, and it certainly is amusirg to see the little fellow dodg 1 ing in and out among the bales under the very feet of the porters, snatching a wad of cotton and darting with it to Mom Katrine, who stores- it away 7 snugly in her big sack, which she usu 1 ally takes home full every evening. 1 Some of the porters think Voudoo t is a nuisance, he is such a persistent picker, but as they believe Mom Kat t rine to be a witch and the dog a par 3 ticipant in her black art, they are afraid to drive him, and so the two 1 have become regular institutions of t the trale.-Philadelphia Times. The Nation's First Treasurer. 1 In the little cemetery at Belmont, E Penn., is the almost unmarked grave of Samuel Meredith. the first Treas urer of the United States. In 1780 Meredith und George Clymer pledged $25,000 each to secure provisions for the United States Army. Meredith was nominated by George Washington for Treasurer of the United States and confirmed by the Senate on September 11, 1789. He held the office for twelve years. He retired to Pleasant Mount, Wayne County, Penn., where he spent the 1 evening of his days in seclusion, and died on Feoruary 10, 1817, aged I seventy-six. Samuel Meredith's father, Reese t Meredith, gave $25,000 in silver to the " starving patriots at Valley Forge. Samuel Meredith had large land inter ests there and went to Belmont from Philadelphia. He built a fine home 1 at Belmont, which was burned a few years ago. He left a distinguished family, but Sthey never put up a fitting monument over his grave. Several associations from time to time have advocated the Serection of a monument by popular Ssubscription, but nothing practical has ever been done. A memorial will be presented to Congress on this sub. ject soon. -New York Press. 1 Where the Colors Come From. Few people-even artists themselves -know where the colors used in the arts come from. It is an interesting fact that one small paint box will often represent the four quarters of the globe, and all sorts of materials, animal, vegetable anl mineral. The cochineal insect supplies the carmines and rich crimson, scarlet and purple lakes. Sepla is the inky fluid dis charged by the devilish cuttle fish. Indian yellow is from the urine of the camel and ivory black and bone black from ivory chips. Prussian blue is made by fusing horses' hoofs and other refuge matter with impute potassium carbonate, an accidental discovery. Blue black is from the charcoal of the vine-stalk. Turkey red is derived from the madder plant of Hindostan. Gamboge is a yellow sap of a tree, which the people of Siam catch in co coant shells. Raw Sienna is the nat urnal earth from Sienna, Italy. When Sburned it is Burnt Sienna. Amber is from Umbria. India ink is from Sburnt camphor. Bistre is the soot of wood ashes. Of real ultramarine Sthere is little in the market, as it is made from the precious lapis lazuli, I and commands a big price. Chinese Swhite is zinc, scarlet is iodide of mer r cury and native vermillion comes from quicksilver ore. Bigh Price for a Relic. Numismatists have been greatly i interested this week in the sale at Sauction of the remarkable collection , of coins, known as the Montagu col t lection, including the famous Jazon s medal, presented by Charles I, to SBishop Juxon on the seaffold,just before a the former's execution. The bidding J for this relic was of the liveliest descrip tion, and it was finally sold for $3850, t said to be the highest price ever paid . for a coin.-New York Post. Ft eedlng Humnitl. It is estimated that twenty.two e acres of land are necessary to sustain & one man on fresh meat. The same ;space of land, if devoted to wheat , culture, would feed forty-two people; e if to oats, eighty-eight; potatoes, t Indian corn and rice, 176; ana if to a the plantain on bread tree, over 000 t people. A DREAMd ROs , I hear the tempest loud and drear That madly sway the lealless tre , And moans across the darkened A surge of ghostly fantasie t Yet, while the sorrowful rectrai. :l'l , So weirdly at my casement blo s, I quite forget the wind and rain In dreaming of the summer rose, --I. . Munkittriekl, in Harpor'syl PITH AND POIN Clara-"I was afraid if I let 1i kiss me I should be sorry for it afMte wuard." Maude-"Were you?"-P;, . "Johnny," asked his teacher, ",Iwch must we do before our sins can be for. given? " "Sin," replied Johnny,;.. Boston Beacon. "Are you prepared to aceeDt mel to-day as nature makes them?" "'In -or--pleased to accept them as they - propose. "-Truth. Hazle-"That policeman in the nextt street mint ho clubbing somebody J 'Nutte-'tWhy?" "I hear him whiase ling for help. "-Puck. "My !" Edith said, "but Mr. Long. ey'.s fat." "You are mistaken,my dear, he's quite thin." "Yes; but and down, I mean."-Judge. Mcrritt-"Man wan made to mourn, you know." Cora-"And what was. woman made for, pray?" Merritt. 'CTo make him do so, I suppose.".. Truth. She-"Do you suppose his ife really supports him?" He-"I think so. He told me he didn't know what real happiness meant until after hegot :' married. "-Puck. Scientiliers-"Lot me see, what i the name of the instrument that re. cords the strength of a pugilist's blow?" Jollicus-"I guess you mean a phonograph."--Puck. "I feel," said the clock that had ceased to tick, "like the victim ofa bicycle collision." "How is that?" asked the watch. "Run -down,'-". Philadelphia North American, . , Brown--"Why doesn't Walke; stop to speak? Thought he knew yoour Smith-"Used to; but I introduced him to the girl he married. Neither of them recognize me now."-Pnnoh. "Oh. that young man is all right,:~ said Gobang. "He is just sowing hid wild oats." "The trouble with him," said Grymes, "is that he is trying to raise two crops on the same land." Truth. Mrs. Troubles--"When we were first married, Harry, you never attereda complaint." Mr. T.-"When we were first married, Jane, I had cia' enough to employ a cook. "-Pittsburg Chronicle-Telegraph. She - "And, now, Charlie, I suppope to-morrow you will have to speak,ti papa about our engagement?" He- / "Yes, dearest, I ' suppose I must" (After a pause) "Has your father got a telephone ?"-Somerville Journal. He-"I thought you said your love for me was as strong as iron and as true as steel; pray, how do you *~o count for your numerous flirtations?: She-"Well, you see, the iron and steel works have shut down for the present. "--Up-to-Date. Mrs. Mimms-"Gcorge, are you suro you locked up the house carefully?" Mimsu-"By jove, I can't remember about the front door." Mrs. Mimms--"Never mind the front door. How about the coal biu?" Cleveland Plain Dealer. The Irn Ringiis of 1813. A great inquiry is now being mae in different (German towns for theiron mourhing rings of the year 1813. The history of these curious memorials of German patriotism may not be gener' ally known. During the National awakening against Napoleon in 1'B1 the princess of the royal house made an appeal to the people for the saori' flee of personal ornaments not unlike , that made by the Long Parliament at the beginning of our civil wars. Gold. mourning rings were consequently ' sent iu immense numbers to the tres":i ury in Berlin, and each sender re' ceived in acknowledgment an irbn ring upon which was inscribed "Gold I give for Iron." From Swinemando alone no fewer than 144 gold rings. were sacrificed to the Fatherland, and iron rings sent thither in exchange. ' Specimens of these iron rings are now worth more than their weight in.gold -Westminster Gazette. MIodern DI)ervishes Mail Clad. The old story that the dervishes possessed swords and coats of maIL datinu back to the crusades is con U firmed by the capture of some ,of these interesting relies after the re' cent engagement on the Nile. The history of the armor and woapon used originally in Palestine and found again after 700 years in the Sondsa. would make a breathless chapter of romance. History plays the romanti'L drama on a scale that the most daring . melodramatio playwright may envy1 for who, even on the stage, would have ventured to make the officer of a British expedition in the Soudan en' counter Arab warriors clad in the mail of Richard Coeur de Lion's knights? St. Louis Star. Deniedl Naturalization. Sven Andreason applied for natural_ ization at Chicago the other day, aU, failed to get it for a curious reason,' Andreason is a Norwegian, andinsisteL. that his papers should record that b S renounced allegiance to the "ging o0 Norway and Sweden." The Coaty' Clerk declared that there is no sa.o monarch, though there is a KingoI Sweden and Norway." Oficial so. curacy and National pride found themselves at odds, and as neith5er : would yield Andreason was not admit:i ted to citizenship.-San FrancisQ-i~ Chroniole. -,