THE DSATH OF
Tba mnlaDnholf day ar com,
Th aad't of the ycr.
Of Wdillr.il wlod, and iiakM wooda,
And mradowi browu and t're,
JIH4 In tho bollowi of th ro, '
The autumn pvr IIh dad
They ru itla to th tvldylnir gunV
Arid to tht rabMt'a tr-a.l;
Tha robin aud th wrn ar flown,
Ari l from th thruba the jay,
And from thti wood-top calls th crow
Through til the gloomy day.
WW are the flower, the fair yuunif flower, that lately sprang and atooJ
In brighter Iltfht, and i-iltor alr, a bfaut'-ou ilatorhood?
Ala ! they nre all In thhlr Rrav, the Kt-ntle race of llowera
Are lying In their lowly beds, with the fair and good of oure.
The rain Is falling where they lie, but the uld Novembt-r rtila
Calls not from out the gloom earth the lovely onon again.
The wlud-fUwor and the violet, thfy perUhed Ion ago,
And the brlor-ro-o aud the orcbl.U died amid the numuier glow;
Hut on the bill the Kolden-rod, and the aster In the wood,
And the yellow aunflower by the brook in autumn beauty atood,
Till the front from the clear cold heaven, a falls the plague on men,
And the brightness 0f thulr smile was gone from uplitud, glade and glen.
And now, when comns the calm mild day, as still such days will come,
To call the njulrrel and the bee from out their winter home;
When the sound of dropping nuts Is heard, though all the trees are still,
And twinkle In the smoky llfht the waters of the rill,
The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore,
And sttf bs to find them la the wood and ty the stream no more.
And then I think of one who In her youthful beauty died,
The fair meek blnsxom that grew up and faded by my side.
In the cold, moist earth we laid her, when the forralM cast the leal,
And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief;
Yet not unmeet it was that one, like that young friend of ours,
bo gentle and so beautiful, should perluh with the flowers.
William Cullen Bryant
By T. DONSALL.
I "Good-by, deafest! '
For the twentieth time Mark Jermyn
uttered the words of farewell, and for
the twentieth time the girl responded,
but, realizing that the parting was not
an ordinary one, they were loth to part
even then. Years hence they might
meet again; perhaps never I
"And, dearest, you'll remember, If
the recollection of me ever stands In
your light, you're to forget I existed.
Promise me that!"
The girl looked Into the earnest face
bending over her, into the depths of
the grave, brown eyes. ' ...
"I cannot," she said softly. "More
over, is it necessary? Is It what you
would do were you in my place?"
Her logic was unanswerable, and he
"If you were the only child , of some
body next door to a millionaire," she
went on, "and your father forbade you
to marry anyone who was not wealthy
while you really, loved one poor as a
church mouse, would yon give up with
out a struggle? Of course you wouldn't,
Mark. You'd wait and , wait, and
"But waiting doesn't always bring
wealth," broke in Jermyn, "especially
in the musical profession. Why did
my father ever destine me for his own
V he added, bitterly."
I "Because it's what you're most fit
ted for," Elsie Renton replied. "Mark,
dear, you're going to be a great man."
He waived away her words with a
ismile and another kiss.
"You flatter me, sweetheart," he
said, "although . it's true my father
was far from being a mediocrity. He
changed his name on marriage, and
died when I was only five years old.
But his existence really ended, so far
as the world was concerned, when he
forsook, his old name, for he never
composed a single thing after."
"How strange!" remarked the girl,
wonderingly. "And what a terrible ex
. ample to you, dearest."
"You may think so. Of course, I
was too young to know much then,
and never heard how it all happened,
for my mother soon followed my
' "And his name before was?"
"Wegar Mark Wegar one of the
foremost composers of his time!
A couple of years later Mark Jer
myn was in London. It seemed much
longer since he had parted from Elsie
Renton in Paris, where they had been
fellow students at the Conservatoire;
tehe. for the sake of finishing a musical
education, he because he had his fu
ture living to consider.
In Paris the girl had been free from
the hidebound conventionalities of
home, and her doting parents would
doubtless have been horrified had they
known she had dared to regard some
one with affection. The two had part
ed; he to work for a name and she to
And now he was In London, his fame
haying preceded him, and Mark Jer
myn, the celebrated pianist, was an-
nounced to make his debut before the
most critical audience in the world
Knrress had not. SDOilt him. and he
"s remained the same mode3t man that
.Had held Elsie's hand in hi3 two years
Eince; deeply, madly, in love with her
' ..111 O ,w 1 J i I I n
bull. . ocvciui luues one nau wi'iieu
to him, and with her last letter in his
pocket as a talisman, he faced the
feager crowd that evening.
The periormance was a success
Mark Jeraiyn's reputation was more
than upheld and he quickly became
the lion of the hour. Invitations from
the highest in the land literally show
ered upon him, so numerous, that they
would have taken years to respond to
all, one of the earliest coming from
the Rentons offering a princely fee for
a short recital at a forthcoming "At
Home." To this Jermyn stiffly replied
that he only accepted social engage
ments. An answer soon came alter
ing the tone of the invitation, and a
day or two later, he found himself
about to meet hi3 loved one once more.
The place was already thronged with
guests when he arrived, but Elsie was
the first to greet him, and as he took
her hand he would have knelt down
there and then and kissed it, had not
decorum forbade. She welcomed him
gayly, and he felt all at once the hap
piest of mortals, for a Bingle look
served to tell him he held her heart
"I'm hostess for the moment," she
observed. "Let me take you to
He followed her, and a little later
was being introduced to Mrs. Renton.
"Mr. Jermyn, mother!"
The stately lady addressed, looked
up, and as she saw his handsome,
clear-cut features, started.
"Mr. Jermyn? ah, yes. of course!
Your appearance seems familiar. But
then, aren't your photographs all over
London?" she asked.
Mark bowed, but guessed by her
tone that she had never seen his por
He sauntered aimlessly about, con
versing first with one and another, till
at length he found himself addressing
the host himself. And Jermyn was
agreeably surprised; Elsie's father was
not nearly bo formidable as he had
pictured him to be; on the contrary,
his attitude toward the young lion of
the season was courtesy and geniality
"Ah! my daughter tells me she met
you in Paris," he remarked. "One of
the first to discover your genius, I be
lieve? Elsie's a dear girl, my dear
"She Is" assented Mark, earnestly.
"Always a dutiful girl, and jze
worth the winning," continuedMr.
Renton, briskly. "It's a pity we're to
lose her so soon but there! the meO
the men! I was young myself once."
"You mean some one will fall in love
with her?" queried Jermyn, anxiously.
"Has fallen in love. Scores of them.
By the way, there she is with Lord
Mark Jermyn turned and followed
the other's glance to where Elsie stood
talking with the man he had noticed
but a few moments before.
"Are they ?"
"Engaged, my dear sir, engaged.
And to be married shortly. My wife's
a wonderful woman; she's arranged it
Mark's first impulse was to flee, but
he resolved to learn the truth from
Elsie's lips first. At last he caught
her glance, following her into a small
ante-room leading from one of the
principal apartments. Wherlthe door
closed, he took her hand, and looked
into her eyes.
"Elsie," he asked. "Is It true?"
She avoided his gaze.
"Is what true?" she murmured.
"That you're engaged to Lord Maple
son?" Her eyes filled with tears and Bhe
turned toward -him passionately.
"No!" she said vehemently. "He's
asked me frequently, but I've always
refused. But mamma insists, and the
rumor we're engaged is about already.
Oh, Mark! Mark!" With an out
stretching of her arms that was irre
sisitible; "what's to be done?"
He took her into hi3 arms.
"You love me, what is to prevent
"Mother she insists. Father, I
know, would rather I married a man
of my choice."
"And I insist on you marrying me!"
he rril f-arne.Mly. "That in. If you're
niKing to beeom tho wife if a non
entity?" She looked up quickly.
"Who in the nonentity?" she asked.
"You, tho lever artist or" with a
gesture of disdain "Irni Maploaon?"
"Then, darling," ho cried, "if your
mother will not consent, It must bi a
runaway match. You're sure you
don't mind intru.sting your happiness
"No, indeed, Mark, no! I love you,
oh! heaps moro than I did two years
ago, and tliat'a noun-thing, isn't it?"
Ho admitted that it was, and kissed
her, when someone calling Elsie, she
hp.d to leave. Mark strolled back to
the drawing room with a lighter heart.
Someone was asking Mr. Renton
whether Jermyn was to play; the host
shrugged his shoulders, but the musi
cian at once interrupted with the re
mark be should only be too delighted.
A move was made to the piano, while
all voices were hushed as it became
known that the great Jermyn was at
the instrument. Ho ran through sev
eral of his better known things in
succession, playing as he had never
played before, hia audience spellbound
and enraptured. The applause at his
conclusion, unlike most drawing-room
applause, was for once sincere.
Mr. Renton was profuse in hia
thanks, and then his less genial wife
inquired a3 a special favor, whether
he would give them a novelty.
"A novelty?" repeated Mark, anx
ious to please his prospective parent.
"Ah, yes! I had almost forgotten. To
day's the twenty-second, isn't it?
There Is one thing I only play once a
year, and always on the twenty-second
of this month."
The last notes of the song were grad
ually dying away, when all at once
there was a tense scream from a dis
tant corner of the room.
All turned and saw that Mrs. Ren
ton had fainted.
A few days later Mark Jermyn call
ed to inquire after Mrs. Renton, whom
it was understood was seriously ill.
The young fellow was at once shown
into Mr. Renton's study, where the
millionaire greeted him cordially.
"My dear Mr. Jermyn," he said,
"you're the very man I wish to see!
You remember the effect your wonder
ful playing produced on my wife the
"Unfortunately," responded the fa
mous musician. "Believe me, I'm ex
"It's not your fault, my boy," he
answered kindly. "The event has
brought something to light which I
hope may mean your happiness. I
have learned that my daughter loves
"Yes," responded Mark, quietly.
"And I love her too."
"Just so, just so! What I was going
to say was this; my wife, it appears,
was once engaged to your father."
Mark Jermyn looked up in astonish
ment. "Yes," continued Mr. Renton, "and
from what I can hear of course, this
is in confidence between you and me
it broke Mark Wegar's heart. My
wife jilted him for myself, and it
seems that, out of pity, In afterward
married a cousin whom he discovered
had been in love with him for years.
The air you played the other evening
was one of Wegar's compsitions, was
"Yes," replied Mark. "My father
left me the manuscripts, with the in
junction it was only to be played on
the twenty-second of November in
each year the anniversary of what I
could never make out."
"Ah! my wife recognized the theme;
it was the old love song he used to
play to her and of which she had
been so fond. The date you mention
was the one on which she broke off
the engagement. Old memories came
back to her, and and "
"Say no more, sir, it's a painful sub
ject." "To be sure, to be sure! My wife
wishes me to tell you that, although
she broke your father's heart, she has
no wish to break either yours or her
daughter's. We are both willing you
should marry Elsie."
Someone opened the door just then,
and Elsie Renton, seeing Mark, threw
herself into his arms." New York
Wive Who Tllp.
Hundreds of thousands of men havt
had a lifelong weary struggle, and
their brilliant talents have yielded on
ly a tithe of the harvest they were en
titled to, and many have come to the
bankruptcy court because their wives
have not been "able to get on" in the
place and with the people among whom
his business and professional lines are
Happy the man who marries a wife
gifted with that large charity which
covers up a multitude of her neigh
A kind heart, a tactful tongue, and
a determination to play a true part
ner's part in avoiding cliques, quar
rels, and sets a woman of these quali
ties Is, indeed, a "gain" to any man.
New York News.
In some German cities it is custom
ary to fee the street car conductors,
who are thus enabled to add from four
to six dollars a month to their in-conre.
LIFE ON TRAINING-SHIP.
MCOROUS ROUTINE TO WHICH THE
"LANDSMEN" ARE SUBJECTED.
CmUre of the I'rulrU New jitui I'mler
VThUh llrirulte wllh No Training
Are 1'rrpnrnl for Naval f ervlce I'rnl.
Unii l.lrh Ilia Omc.it Have to 1 .
Given a farm-hand, a clerk, a boy of
the Btre.eta. an Idle son, a plalnaman,
and a North Carolina mountaineer to
produce six sailor men of the first latis,
prwud of themselves, their ship, and
their service, is the problem put be
fore certain oflUers of the United
States navy. The problem la presented
to them In bulk instead of in detail;
in place of hIx, six hundred.
Perseus ashore had an opportunity to
observe the progress the officers in
trusted with the problem are making
when the cruiser Prairie tame into
this port last week with 450 lubbers
(rctcd landsmen) aboard, after a six
months' cruise of Instruction and train
ing through the West Indies and the
Caribbean sea. Tho work has been
thorough, and the resuiis have justified
the pains. Out of raw lumps of human
ity, absolutely undisciplined, for tho
most part as ignorant of its first prin
ciple as human being may well be,
the Hlevr lmrrassed officers of the
Prairie have developed quick, smart
youngsters, lively cn their feet, with
keen minds that jump at tho curtly
6poken word of command.
Under the old laws governing the
enlistment of men in the United States
nuy, a "landsman" (the lowest grade
of enlisted man) could only be employ
ed in the galley. The regulations
specifically provided that a landsman
must be a cook. Under these conditions
the service did not offer many attrac
tions to the man who had no sea train
ing. His chance for becoming a petty
officer was practically nil. It frequently
happened that a landsman during the
term of his enlistment never touched
a rope, or learned his way about the
ship. He never got on deck except
when he was ordered up from his pots
and crocks for a breath of fresh air.
Since the war with Spain, there haa
been instant and pressing need of men
to man the ships in commission. The
system of school-ships has not been
able to turn out apprentice-boys in suf
ficient numbers to fulfil the needs of
the service. Ic was these conditions
that brought about the present method
of increasing the quota of enlisted men
by taking in healthy young men, with
certain physical qualifications, shipping
them 'to sea, and making sailors of
them by the force of precept and ex
ample. The theory of instruction Is like
the theory of musketry-fire direct and
The day's routine on a training ship
is a thing to strike terror to the heart
of a boy who goes to sea to loaf at
his ease on clean white decks! Yet the
clear-eyed boys on the Prairie have
thriven on the, work, and are ten
pounds heavier to the man than they
were on the day, six" months back,
when the ship steam-id out of Hampton
After turning out, stowing ham
mocks, and breakfasting, the day's real
work begins at eight o'clock, when all
hands are piped to "scrubbing routine."
On Mondays the lads have a soapsuds
and hot water battle with their clothes.
On Tuesdays they add the grace of
cleanliness to their hammocks, mat
tress covers, and bags. Windsails,
screens, boat covers, and all other can
vas gear get an overhauling on each
Wednesday in the month. Clean boats,
scrub all gear and paintwork, is the
order of th3 day on Thursday. Clothes
get another douse on Fridays, and Sat
urdays are "general cleaning days,"
though it is hard for a shore-going
man to understand what is left to clean
after the week's work. After inspection
at 9.30 o'clock comes setting-up exer
cises, or over the masthead; the lat
ter to familiarize the boys with the rig
ging, and to enable them to find their
way about aloft. The rest of the day
is devoted to infantry and artillery
drill, boat and sail drill, aiming drill,
seamanship, lead, logwheel, and com
pass instruction, arm and away boats,
collision drill, fire quarters, signal
(night and day), and gunnery instruc
tion. At least once every three months
the boys are exercised at night quar
ters, nieht fire quarters, and "man
The days in port were all the same
On a day when the wind had died out,
and the fiat glassy waters of the an
chorage off Tompkinsville gave back
the sides of the ship in a Eteely shim
mery gray, and the shrouds and rigging
line for line, the youngster were clus
tered along the port rails under the
awnings in the waist of the ship. They
looked over the sides at the liberty
men in their best blue muster gear
running lightly along the boom that
projected from the side cf the ship
and dropping into the waiting boat.
They berated their own hard luck with
forecastle fluency and point. Some of
them played cards, sitting with their
bare legs crossed and wagering cigar
ettes on their skill. Six men lay asleep,
every one with his head in the lap of
another. The seventh man at the top
of the line sat upright sewing a patch
on what might be termed architectural
ly the rear elevation of a pair of white
trousers. He used his needle with sin
cerity and a free-hand visor. The of
ficer of tho d'M-k atcod at tli h
rangway and rej:riS-d bin ti;
dad f.Riire di.consn.it( :ly.
"That's the woiHt of -.-r.
here," he said. "It wasn't I
i it i :
thin in Cuba; yet we aren't a
break out a white uniform oa inn :u
we tny at tbla place."
HAndllng tho Sails.
Ho glanerd aloft at thetr.;. hang
ing loose from the yardtt, ami walked
over to tho boatswain:
"Mitchell, get the first and third divi
sions aloft to furl topr,aila."
Tho long, keen whistle ran along th
decks disturbing the little groups of
cardplayers and sleepers, each of which
yi'dded a boy or two to the barefooted
crowd who came pattering alon;r to tho
main rigging. A boy dropped through
to a grating on tho berth deck, swing
ing clear of the companion ladder, and
ran through the bowels of the rhlp
"On deck the first and third divisions
to furl topsails."
Away forward down in the recesses
of the quarters a concertina stopped
automatically in tho middle of a plain
tho note and presently the boys' came
tumbling up, some of them rubbing
tho sleep out of their eyes, but sharp
set for the work in hand. The deck
waa a babel of busy sounds and de
tached jargon. The bosun worked hia
hopeful pupils without stint.
"Get that buntline clear. Stand by
to hoist away smartly when I sing
The beys stood at their stations un
der the port bulkarks waiting like ter
riers in leash for the word. It came
"Stand by to go aloft."
They swarmed up over the rail anl
awnings, and liko sprinters got "s.'t"
for the race up the yard. A yellow
headed urchin stood on deck lookinft
up the tarred slope of rigging wist
fully. One of the youngsters perched
on the ratlines called down tauntingly:
'13 mamma's boy afraid to go up?"
'Naw, I ain't. You wait till I cast
my shoe3 loose."
He was perched alongside his fellows
in an instant.
"Now, doggone you, I'll beat you up."
The whole lot of them raced awa
towards the "lubber's hole," slipping
and scrambling. The bosun let out a
roar of protest that could have been
heard against a gale. ,
"Lay down, you young swabs; lay
down from aloft there. What in the
name of brimstone and hot pitch do
you mean, going aloft till you get the
The youngsters como down shame
facedly until the cry "lay aloft," when
they raced away again. They laid out
on the yards with the nonchalance of
old hands, and got the sails stowed
without a boggle. They came dropping
down to the deck laughing and jok
ing. Mr. Caperton, the executive officer.
stood on the quarterdeck and watched
them with pride and pleasure.
"It has been amazing," he said, "the
way those lads have 'found' themselves.
They know what to do and how to do
it. Six months ago none of them knew
how to get aloft, nor what to do when
they got there."
After leaving New York, the Prairie
cruised for two months on the coast
of Maine, giving her landsmen a pol
ishing touch before they were drafted
on the big ships of the navy, rated as
ordinary seamen and first-class fight
ing men. Edward Lowry, in the New
Fooling the Crowd.
A quiet young fellow emerged from
a hotel in Liverpool recently and be
gan poking in the earth with his cane.
Of course, a bystander saw him and
asked what he was about.
"I'm looking for a sovereign," waa
The questioner was interested, and,
procuring a long stick, fell to digging
also. A second man did likewise, and
others followed suit till at least 40 in
dividuals joined in the search. Umbrel
las, canes, and boot-oes were brought :.
into requisition and stirred up the dust
to such an extent that the air resound
ed with a chorous of sneezes, while the
policeman nearly went distracted in
his fruitless endeavors to disperse the
crowd. Finally some one remembered
to ask the quiet young fellow how he
happened to lose the coin.
"Oh, I didn't lose any," he replied,
calmly. "I just thought I might find
one if I kept on looking, that's all."
Then each separate member of . that
party of volunteer searchers went si
lently away, and the quiet young fel
low sat down and smiled till he was red
in the face. Tit Bits.
Ill Omen from Chine Mild Weather,
Indications are not wanting that
there is to be a second crop of lichees
this year, the trees in the interior hav
ing again flowered. As a consequence,
many wild rumors are in circulation,
and pestilence, rebellion and war are
foretold. A parallel Is pointed to in the
case of the Taiping rebellion, which
was preceded by a double crop of
lichees. Signs of the times point to a
great rebellion in China, and compli
cations between Russia, France, Eng
land and Japan are inevitable. Hong
Kong Daily Press.
The barometer rises higher at Ir
kutsk, ifl Siberia, than anywhere else
in the world.
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