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White's Llttk Brama.
(From the French.) "Bnfin," Crted Madame, tersely, "1 am tired! You are setting old and jealous. Kh, bier., If you want a ilsvoree si.-k it as MX.n as _\,m please!" And, having fired this parting shot, she banned the boudoir door after her departing husband, who a lew second* later slammed the hall om In reply. Fetidte Deforges listened until the BPgry iv\ tiberations had died away, anl then catching sight of her pretty face in a mirror opposite, shook her spirited little head wickedly at the reflection, and, ringing for her maid, at once proceeded to don an exquisite confection she was to wear at the Beaupre'-e garden part) thai same afternoon, the toilette being lh( remote, the party the approximate Cause ot tin- quanvl Which had Just i.er minated, for M. Deforce* did not approve of the Beaupre connection, the eldest son of that distinguished house having mote than once expressed emphatic admiration for Madame. Monsieur Deforges walked straight on through the erowued streets with bent head and muttering lips, his hands thrust deep Inta his pockets, two perpfcndietalar lines showing under the brim of the soft hat pulled over his toirows: At a street corner, he encountered a tram-car; the "color toM hlnV that it wont toward the country, and M. Deforges was in a mood to commune with Nature. The change of locomotion did not raise his spirits, for that dusky jade, jealousy, who loves men better than any of her sex, companioned him still. Mechanical ly he lit a cigarette and let it go out; the wind blew th- ashes over the dolman of a severe matron seated beside him, and he never apologized. On swept ibe tram through the reeltiug truttle of the working-day streets and the lengthening line of dwellings on either hand, whose formal ugliness made him s-hudder. and suddenly, it seemed, .he found himself at the foot of the famous hill. The place did not appear so amus ing as when he and his wife saw It first one April Sunday two years ago., and had climbed to the top, pointing out to each other the tender jjreen of the young elm leaves beside a conventicle pouring forth Its wooden-faced congregation, and taught In the air faint suggestions of lilac. from Invisible gardens, anu saw daffodils abloom in nursery beds. How happy they had been, she with her rounded arm within his and her weight pressing upon It intermittently in mock fatigue, hei shoulder nestling against his in the very eyea of that starched Sundaj^world. For was she not his wife, mon Dieu, and were they not only three weeks married. And now, that morning, she had told him he was old! "Is one old at thirty-six?" he asked himself breathlessly. Perhaps not, but one has been younger, one must admit; and then w-lu-n one's- eyc-3 are sadly strained by > '.oso app'iiva'Uon to the fine etching Work, that paysso well and costs .-•) mucfa ihe> aie not quite lustrous. Furthermore, on that spring day two years bark lie had thought quite natural ly of climbing the hill, now he thought ad naturally oi" permitting himself to be car ried up. To banish this lellection he got down at the next halting place and sought the top on foof. It appeared meaner, more skimped and shrunken than when he had seen it last, and the roof slates were hemming in everything it was pitiful, and he struck off for a walk in the "country." meeting houses at every turn. Once or twice he paused to look over black-painted fence boards Inclosing trim lawns where nur sery maids were playing, their flute-like HCd-nts rising and falling in silvery ca dence with gusts of laughter in between— music shaken from fairy bells —and then went 0:1 again, pleased in hia foolish French way because others were happy. But through it all one cruel sentence kept ringing in his ear, "You are getting old," and though his heart said "No," hia brain said •'V>s." At a corner of one of the long, narrow paths which radiated' interminably on every sid< lie niiklenly er.«contered a girl advancing rapidly from an opposite direc tion. So swiftly did she come that he almost jostled her; lifting his hat he 1 aside, and, when ho had taken a ! few steps, luoked back. She had done the same. Their eyes met; he smiled. She gazed at him slowly, without any sugges tion of coquetry or indignation; and then, ■with a pendulous swing1 of her skirts, Which he misconstrued, passed onward. He oouM not have known that just c.s she turned she had caught the glint of 1 spectach-s over a garden railing, where an elderly neighbor of gossiping habit was observing the Incident. The tpinude did not improve his equa nimity, and, oddly, the girl's fre3h- face | reminded him. too, of the handful of primroses Foliclte had gathered on that pleasant Sunday morning. When lie had gone a little further he mechanically looked at his watch, and, | lighting another cigarette, began to re- 1 trace his steps, walking slowly and men tally^estlmating the "values" of a gable- | end here, a window there, a beech stem i beyond. Then the gaunt scaffolding of a ! half flni-hed house, whose unfortunate j owner was learning the ways of building j societies, caught his eye, audit looked so j like a ruin that it made him think of the | Colosseum, which he had never seen, and I muse upon the mutability of Fortune, as j well as the flight of Time. The reflections were hardly profound and not at all orig inal, but they led him to think of death, and he did not find the thought repellent. At that exact moment the fingers of his left hand, still in his pocket, encountered a small pencil-like object. He drew It forth Incuriously. Ah, yes, it was a stray cartridge—one of the fifty he had pur chased a week before for the revolver 1 Felicite had Induced him to buy, her I nerves having been jarred.-owing to the sensational account of a commonplace burglar> in their neighborhood. He saw the revolver Itself quite distinctly now In the upper drawer of a writing table, placed absurdly by his wife across the window of a room opening on their cham ber, whence, she stated, she could watch him as he worked. He would go home and get it, and—well, she need not qual ify for a divorce court. It Is characteristic that he did not con template murder as well as sdlcide. He had no! a violent sense of justice; and, beside*, he shrunk from killing a woman. One meanness at a time was enough for him, though I do not think he considered the act h L - so suddenly meditated mean or criminal. He had no faith in anything save himself, and he had grown tired of himself in an hour. He was the product of an age when MUNYON'S INHALER &* a CATARRH vS9 Colds, Coughs, ifA«s£^iilS£ Hay Fever, Brcn- JL JT^fflßLchitis, Asthma HJffl ■ Bana bU Diseases \W Oi the Throatam> Clouds of Vindicated Vapor are inhal*4 through the mouth and emitted from the nos trils, cleansing and raporl/ing all the Inflame •ltd diseased parti which cannot bo reached by medicine taken loto the stomach. Jl reaches the tore spots—lt heals the rout places—Jt goes to the seat ot disease—lt. acts as a balm ana tonic to the whole system—sl oi> at truggistt. orient by mail. 150b Arch iU.,I 1/ui» every cobbler is a comparative philoso pher, and drives a fresh nail in the coffin Of Christianity with every additional tack he hummers home. Being a Frenchman, he accepted tfce teaching of his century without any hypocritical twaddle about duty for duty's sake; he hud done what pleased him all his life, and now it Dteased him to die. It was very simple. He rapidly reviewed his business en gagements, and fleiermlned to write one or two letters canceling some agreement; thtMi he would be quite free, because his last batch of magazine work had been sent in that very morning. Indeed, his quarrel with madame h:id at first been begotten of the ennui engendered between an unoccupied man and a preoccupied woman, for it was M. Deforges' custom to snatch a rure holiday at the comple tion of a heavy task. He glanced at his watch again and set off for home. He did not take an omnibus on the return journey. It occurred t<j him that ho would reach his destination soon enough on foot. The sun was shining pale; but persistent, through the tons of coal overhead, and the afternoon was <iuite warm. He smiled, reflecting how I'elicito must be enjoying herself, and what an interesting denouement he was preparing on her return; and as he went through the gray-vlsaged throng he elab orated detail's. Mme. Deforges did not go to the gar den party. At the last moment it was discovered that a black plait was irre deemably wrong, and I regret to record that she and Stephanie, her little maid, uttered some Improper and shockingly true things about milliners and the con tours they are privileged to drape. "Take the abominable thing back at once!" cried madame tragically, "and tell the animal that I am a woman—not a gallows. And take the afternoon' for thyself, child." Left alone, madame enjoyed a good cry, and then having bathed her limpid eyes, changed her dress, and felt better. She THE REAL DIFFICULT PART. 1 <^^-^^ Mrs. Tanque—Do you think you could stop drinking during the forty days of Lent? Mr. Tanque—lt would be easy as far as the days are concerned, but I wouldn't like to swear about the nights. cheated thirty minutes or so In dusting the gaudy little reception room down stairs, with its crystoleum reproductions of Bougereau. and other dainty nick nacks, telling herself that her husband was hideously unreasonable, and most ilioglcally wishing him back again In stead of wasting their holiday by sulking. She decided, too, when posting his pho tograph for the tenth time opposite her own under the adorably gilt mirror from the Rue de Rivoli, that he was not at all old, but rather quite young, which was perfectly true—as far'as the photo went. She compared him with the Beaupres, father and son, very much to the disad vantage of both gentlemen. She remem bered that he had remained her lover through two April years of married life, a fact highly creditable to his taste, and it was this circumstance rendered their frequent makingup so interesting, for he was exceedingly original. She decided that this reconciliation should be a mem orable one. Donning an apron, she went down to the cook, and with her own dimpled hands prepared a favorite dish of his, planning as she worked the evening's programme. There would be, first of all, the reconcil iation in a pathetic tea gown. Then they would go to the play, and afterward to supper at a gay restaurant, where every body would be In the best possible tem per, and the Problems of Life, shivering: at the door outside, be cheated for a few golden ante-meridian hours, and ever as the laughing minutes flew she would grow coyly seductive and Leon appreciative, and the waiter from Languedoc confiden tial as he brought them—well, the second bottle of violet-breathing Chateau Lafltte. Her cooking finished, she hurried to the piano and tinkled off a morceau of Cho pin, rendered a la Francalse Beethoven's "Moonlight," which she rapidly changed for the sunshine of Mozart, and then, she could hardly tell why, slipped into a "Tri umphal March" redolent with memories of the peaceful Breton convent where she had spent three years of heedless girl hood. It had formed, she remembered, j the overture to a five-act drama illustrat ing the virtues of St. Elizabeth, a per formance in which she had taken the title role, but without once opening her mouth, as she appeared only in the last tableau, when Elizabeth lay dead upon her bier in the dim-vaulted church, and Frederick 11. placed his own diadem Upon her worn brow, naughty Felicite being chosen for this Instead of the convent pet, who had sustained the saintly part up to that point, owing to her trick of retaining her breath and keeping a perfectly rigid pose for an almost indefinite period. She suddenly ceased playing and went to the mirror, holding her breath, ten, thirty, sixty seconds, a minute and a half. Bon! It wag death itself, and her cheek, how pale it grew! She closed one eye and regarded herself critically. She was really bewitching—so pale, so calm, so utterly remote from a sordid, a sinful, and, it must be confessed, a somewhat dingy world. If only one could be sure of being like that when one really dies! Ouf, she was growing fanciful. Shrugging her shoudlers, she glanced at her watch, Leon's latest present, and pouted. It was very late and he had not come back. Wag ever a loving little wife, eager to forgive, treated so before? Perhaps he would nev er return! Perhaps he had gone off with some abandoned woman.. Impossible a3 such a contingency should be, it was, nev ertheless, not altogether improbable Suddenly a thought struck her—so dramatic, so artistic, that she clapped her hands and laughed aloud. She would write him a farewell letter, expressing her regret for what had occurre 1* end assur ing him that he would never have cau<*e to fly into a passion with his devoted wife again, since she had taken poison, and had quitted forever a world his heartless ness had made unbearable. Then she would lie on the marriage couch, hod her breath and hoar what he had to say—she felt he could be eloquent. Changing her robe for a more elaborate one, glorified by a Medici collar, trimmed with ostrich tips that had never scurriod across a desert plain, she hastened to th* THE Sft PAUL GLOBE, SUNDAY, MARCH 4, 1900. table before the bay window, and com menced to pen the note. It took some time to compose, and. like other chefs d'oeuvre, was never ended, for while sh« was searching the word of the situation she heard a step in the hall. It was Le on's—he had let himself in with the latch- key. Flying to a cabinet she took a small, half emptied phial of laudanum from it, sprinkled a few drops on her lips and threw herself on the bed. She heard him coming up the stairs, not quickly, according to hia wont. On the landing he paused to turn the handle of the boudoir door for a moment, and then, laughing harshly, continued his ascent, breathing somewhat heavily as he reach ed the top. At last he entered, and she shut her eyea. At first M. Deforges noticed nothing un usual, being engaged turning the key in the lock; then his eye fell on the open letter. He approached and read it care fully, and Its tinsel pathos seemed con vincing. Then, quite mechanically, he turned to the bed. There lay his wife, silent, motionless as a carved statue, not a flutter of the blue-veined lids so tran quilly closed, not a tremor of th< high bosom on which he placed his hand with Instinctive reverence. "Ma femme," he muttered, brokenly. "Thank God the child died!" He bent and kissed her, catching the odor of the laudanum, and sighing again. Her skirts were a trifle disarranged, ow ing to the hurry of the pose. He rear ranged them in orderly folds over the lit tle arched feet. Hia wife felt a tear trickle on her brow a moment later. In spite of her will a blush stole across her cheek, but he did not see, for he turned away at the instant, muttering, "Mon Dieu," which is no proof that he believed In God. Knowing from his retreating steps that he was going to the writing table she opened an eye and watched him out of the corner, wondering what he would do, for she felt sure his artistic instincts would not allow him to think of the stomach pump. He had lit a match, and, standing with his back to her still, was burning the letter slowly. Having done this he sat down and took the discarded pen, but presently threw it aside with a little laugh, which made her think the Joke had gone far enough. At the same mo- ment she strove to arise, and turned the upper portion of her body slightly, but suddenly found herself held motionless as if by the hand of Death she cheated so well. She parted her lips to utter a cry, but no sound came, although her intelli gence warned her of what was imminent even before he reached toward the draw er containing the pistol. The phial, which slipped from her hand, ! oscillated a second on the slope of tho counterpane and dropped on the fanti a ti 0 rug below, but the slight noise did not distract his attention, and she could onry watch with panting breath the man cool, ly loading the revolver. Would nothing happen? Would God permit this? Would He allow a little Home to be wrecked because—because a man was so unreasonable? It was <iuel -Infinitely, unutterably cruel—and alas! also as unutterably absurd-s o absurd that the sense of it wrung her with in ternal laughter, that caused an actual physical pain as laughter sometimes can An awful drumming thundered through her ears, a mist grew before her straining c-yes. the attentive figure opposite faded gradually, but all the while she under stood how vividly everything would spring into relief when the pistol-shot would break her trance. At th<> same time she became conscious of intolerable discomfort caused by something touching her face with light, persist-iu contact The tentacles of some crawling thing her imagination told her, and the amu.yan - c was magnified with inconceivable rapla ity. It was really the delicate spiral of one of the feathers trimming her high rurr gently agitated by her spasmodic breath ing, but had it been the most loathsome thing that ever buzzed above an African swamp she could not have lifted a hand to brush it away. In a moment it seemed that her body had become one mass of creeping tor ment, and under the stress of the Uea the mist curved from before her eyes, and she saw her husband wheel round the chair, as he had been accustomed to Oo of evenings when she was suffering from great afterthought concerning the locking of the hall door; but he did not loolc toward the bed. He was gazing steadfastly at the pistol, and he slowly raised the hand which held it. She made a last frantic Internal struggle, but her tense body did not mov« the fraction of an inch, though her pant ing respirations sent the fragile feather spirals against her face, so that the un known horror seemed creeping to her mouth, and then—she sneezed. Ho looked round, startled out of hts purpose, and they saw each other through their tears. m , Personally Conducted Tours to Cali fornia In Pullman TonrUt Sleep- Ing: Cars. Via Chicago Great Western Railway to Kansas City, and Santa Fe route to Los Angeles and Southern California. Only line having new Pullman tourist sleepers equipped with wide vestibules, steam heat and gas light. One of these new sleepers leaves St. Paul at 8:10 a. m. every Mon day, via Chicago Great Western for Los Angeles and Southern California via Kan- Baa City, and reaches Los Angeles the following Friday morning. These tours are personally conducted by an expo rienced official, who accompanies the train to its destination. The cars are well equipped for a long journey and are as comfortable as the standard sleepers while the price for a double berth 1b only about one-half. Full information fur nished by J. P. Elmer, G. A. P. D.. Fifth and Robert streets. St. Paul. Bnllct-Proof Shield. A bullet-proof shield has been invented by a steel-making firm. This shield is fixed to the rifle, and weighs only seven pounds, giving complete cover to a man 'ying prone. »■ . Water Hard to Heat. hoTt at with Vi 6 hardes* of all substances to st^^jsssH this z What to Do tor the Baby. IN olden Greece when the wife accepted the obligation of motherhood, Dr. Pierced Favorite Prescription is not a cure-all. It has one pur all her days of pre-natal preparation were spent among the fairest pose, the cure of womanly diseases, and it has power adequate to that scenes and most beautiful objects. Wherever her eye fell it purpose. It establishes regularity and dries the drains that sap womanly rested beauty. Her feet mored to and fro to pleasant melodies, vitality. It heals inflammations and ulcerations which cause so much Her mind was fed on the high thoughts of the poets. For this reason suffering to weak women. It cures female weakness. It makes mater the children of these Greek mothers furnished models of physical beauty nity easy and gives strength alike to nursing mother and nursling child, which have ever since put the world to shame. Its whole mission is to make weak women strong and sick women well. The time that most can be done for the baby is before its birth. There is no alcohol in " Favorite Prescription** and it contains neither With every B*H<*k the mother puts into the dainty wardrobe she pre- opium, cocaine, nor any other narcotic. Mothers may use it without the pares, there shoutd go some happy loving thought. With everymeal fear tliat the child will begiu to acquire the taste for alcohol at the pure eaten, with everj household duty easily accomplished, with each night's fountain of the breast, refreshing sleep,_t^iDie should come the thought, "All this counts for baby's wellbeing." WMAT WMUMFMi IMJAUT But how ca^,^tl this be possible for the woman who is in daily WTHJia WVWWMKLn WWMnM . misery of minded body ? What many a woman wants above all else is the opportunity to tell It is impossible. ; her story to a physician with whom science and sympathy walk hand in The first thing £ mother should do for her baby is to establish her hand. She shrinks from telling her story to the local practitioner and own health. If ifee doesn't she will bear "a child of spleen to be a undergoing the unpleasant questionings, the indelicate examinations and thwart disnatugett $o torment her." The baby's will be but the the obnoxious local treatments, considered necessary by many physi eclio of her own;-the baby's face will reflect the anguish lined in her cians. She hesitates before accepting the offer of "free medical advice" own features. • made by men or women who do not claim to be physicians, and, there- Mothers who have used Dr. Pierces Favorite Prescription during fore, at the best can only give second-hand advice, which could not take the pre-natal testify to its wonderful health-giving qualities ; to into consideration the variations of womanly temperament and charac the cheerful mind and healthy body with which the mother comes to the ter. She wants help— real help. She wants to lean on the strong day of travail, and of the almost painless birth hour. It does wonder- manly arm of some accredited physician whose reputation is vouched fui things. It is a wonderful medicine. for, alike by his long experience and the celebrity of his cures. What oil w onion win t 111 'ill v vorite Prescription Pierce%°\eter free. over all other put-up medicines for woman's use is this : It cures when All correspondence strictly private and sacredly confidential. Address all other medicines have failed to cure. It does time and again what Dr. R. V. Pierce, Buffalo, N. Y. the local practitioner has failed to do, and what in many cases he In the past thirty years and over, assisted by his staff of nearly a declares cannot be done—cures womanly disease of long standing, and score of skilled physicians, Dr. Pierce has treated and cured more than cures them perfectly and permanently. half a million women. There is no similar offer of free medical advice which has behind it a physician of the national repute of Dr. Pierce, MORE PROOF* w*tn. a. Bta? °f nearly a score of trained medical assistants, each man a XT . , , _ specialist in some one or more of the diseases peculiar to women. r i . a ea^ su£ erer from female weakness," writes Mrs. M. B. Wallace, Buy your medicine as you buy your flour—on its record No HpsW eight bottles of the 'Favorite Prescription ' and four of 'Golden Medical Discov- has trled a?d Proven. The dealer says : "Ibis is just as good." She cry.' I now feel like a new woman. I have gained eighteen pounds." Bays '• "Thanks. I'll want something better before I change. • "My A had been poor for many year* and f had taken a great dealo/tned- Dr. Pierces Favorite Prescription is the standard medicine of the crW^ta^^^ world for women. Whenadealer offers a substitute as "just"as good," sleep, for when I weut to bed I had nervous Pasthma and aISWt trouble I £ U hlm ? ou ar« not making experiments. You want either " Favorite wrote to Dr. Pierce and he kindly advised me to take his 'Favorite Prescrip- Prescription, t ne remedy with a record or something better, with the tion.' I took five bottles of the ' Prescription' and one bottle of the 'Golden proof behind the claim. There's nothing "just as good "as the "Pre- Medical Discovery,' and I feel like a new woman." scription." There can't be anything better. RAtSSNQ A BMBY is »™*iMn 9 '**' can't be done by InstinoU It needs knowledge. All the knowledge any woman needs Is found In Or* Pleroe's Common Sense Medical Adviser, oontalnlng 1008 large pages and more than 700 Illustrations, This great work on household medicine and hygiene Is sent FREE on receipt of stamps to pay expense of mall' ing ONLY. Send 21 one»cent stamps for the book bound In paper, or 31 stamps for It In cloth covers. Address: Dr. R. V. PIEROE, Buffalo, N. Y. PRISONER IN MANILA AN INTERESTING TALK WITH a<:m\ u.ixr.s wikh, who IS A CAPTIVH HER LITTLE SON WITH HER Grieve* Because Su« I» Net WIU» Che Filipino Chief to Share His Dan. K«r-Sayi He lUin Been Betrayed by Ills Own People—Claims to lie a ('hrlatlan, but Beiteves lv Tiiga. lok Spirits. MANILA, Jan. 25!—Agulnaldo's wife and child are prisoners in this city. Aguinaldo has defied the power of the United States for more than a year, but his wife and chlldcould not run as quick ly as he. Therefore they are here, guard ed and cared for by a kindly government. The Senora Aguinaldo—her Christian name is Juanita—has given an interview to the New York Journal correspondent. She Is an intensely pathetic figure. She has Buffered terrible sorrows, but the greatest of all is that she cannot be with her husband now, sharing the hardships of his flight. She is ignorant, supersti tious, faithful beyond words. It was on Jan. 10 that the Senora Aguin aldo and her child, together with many other Filipinos, fell Into the hands of the Americans. A«uinaldo's forces had been scattered in all directions. They ran for the mountalna and the swamps. They were unable to carry away any women and children who could not endure the worst hardships of the men. The Senora Aguinaldo and her child surrendered to MaJ. March* battalion of the Thirty third infantry at Bontoc. She had been ill since the birth of a daughter, who died.^Bayombong. But for this illness she would doubtless have struggled on with heir hysband. She even started out with he^;, child, but after she had fallen down frop exhaustion Aguin aldo sent her back'^tp^ Bontoc, knowing, like an Intelligent toarf, that the best thing that could happen to her would be to fall In the hands'^ the Americans. She was sent on i)y" boat to Manila, where she was allied*, with a number of her friends, to 'Aceilpy a comfortable house in the native quarter; She is kept under a corporal's guard, so that she may not incite any of the natives with in the city to insurrection or act as an intermediary between them and Aguin aldo. The soldiers are also necessary for her protection, as many of the natives are bitterly incensed against Aguinaldo. She receives a large amount of liberty, and the guards are scrupulously careful not to intrude upon the privacy of her domestic arrangements. WHERE SHE IS LIVING. It was toward the close of a fiercely hot afternoon last week that I made a call upon the Senora Aguinaldo. The house" she is occupying is No. 11, Calle, San Jose. This is In the native quarter and in the most aristocratic part of it. No Americans, Spaniards or any other Europeans live there. It is the most In teresting: quarter of Manila. To pass through it, however. Is not without dan ger for Americana. The houseß of the better class, such as that occupied by Senora Aguinaldo, are rough~"and plain on the outside, but within they are. charming and show much artistic origi nality. When my quells or two-wheeled trap reached the house I was first stopped by the corporal, whose duty it is to ascer tain the business of all who wish to com municate with the Aguinaldo family. The guard on this day was furnished by the Twentieth infantry. I had a note from tho commanding officer, but in accordance with the standing orders the soldiers had first to ask the Senora Aguinaldo if she would see me. The authorities will not allow her to be annoyed by mere curios ity seekers. The Senora Aguinaldo was willing to receive me. I had the goof fortune to find her in the garden with her child, en joying the brief moments between the heat of the tropic day and darkness. She was sitting In the shade of a Nlpa palm. At first sight the Senora Aguinaldo is a disappointment. She does not make a good photograph. Sorrow and suffering ■have left indelible marks upon her fea tures, but In spite of these she is quite fat. Her eyes, however, are her best feature, and more than make up for other deficiencies. They are large, dark, brilliant and full of feeling. She Is prob ably thirty-five years old, and, consider ing her trials, she is quite well preserved. She must be older than her husband. Altogether she is a typical Filipino woman of the half civilized Tag alog tribe. She wore the panuela. a loose garment of brilliantly colored siik, which Is th<j most characteristic feature of Filipino civilized dress. With it she wore a stlff atarched skirt, with a train, and slippers. This Is the conventional dress of the Fil ipino woman of the better class in Ma nila. A great diamond brooch fastened her panuela, her fingers were loaded with rings, and she had Jewels in plenty. THE YOUNG SON. The little Miguel Agutnaldo, only son of the Filipino leader, is altogether charming. Six years old, bright-eyed, merry as a cricket, he ought to grow up to be a useful citizen of the Greater United States. His mother showed the profoundest affection for him, and they made a pleasant picture together. With the Senora Agulnaldo were the her. They are daughters of Col. Bityar, a Senorltas Sityar, who surrendered with distinguished member of Aguinaldo's staff, who la now putting his best foot forward a few yards ahead of the Amer ican, forces. These young women are ideal types of Filipino beauty. Their eyes are gems of loveliness. Conversation with the Senora Aguinal do proved quite difficult. Her native lan guage is Tagalog. The medium through which she seeks to communicate with Americans Is a mixture of English, Span ish nnd Chinese, with a little Tagalog thrown In whenever the others fail. I will not endeavor to reproduce the pe culiar phrases with which the Senora Aguinaldo assailed mo, for the result would make the worst Scotch dialect ap pear a mild form of humor by compari son. Senora Agulnaldo is a believer in her husband's greatness of soul and lofty patriotism. "Would you not rain*. -» safe here in Manila, Senora Agulnaldo, * I asked, "than out in the country, where you might get shot?" "No, no," she cried. "I no care for shot. I want to be with Emllio. to share his danger. He will win yet, and I shall not be with him to see his triumph. "He would have conquered when he drove the Spanish Into Manila, but ho trusted the Americans, and they cheated him. He has been betrayed by his own people, too, but he will triumph yet. WANTED TO KILL HIM. "These enemies were always trying se cret ways to kill him. They bribed our cook to put poison in the food, but I al ways tasted the food first. Once I took some soup containing a lot of poison. It made me very ill, but Emilio was saved. "Three cooks they hired to poison uj, but I found them all out. and they wer« not able to harm us any more. "Very often his enemies shot at him in the battle from his own side, but he hai a charmed life, and no bullet can harm him. Bullets have stiuek him and faller harmless to the ground. "When Emllio first became president ol the republic I was very happy. I had two hundred dresses and boxes full ol Jewels. "When our army went on the march 1 carried twelve barrels of dresses with me, but when the horses died I had to throw them away. "At Bayombong last November my Ut« tie daughter was born and then died. ] was very ill, but still kept on, and would have done so as long ns I could crawl. It was only because Emillo said I should be a burden to the army that I surrender, ed to the Americana." "What did you do when the fighting wai going on?" asked the writer. "I stayed with Emllio. When his dutj required him to be In the fight I was there. I helped to load rifles for him and his comrades." "But what did you do with the child?" "lie was with m«. too. I made him lit down In the trenches so that ha might not get shot." "If your husband is so powerful, why is he always retreating?'. "H« has been betrayed by his own people. They do not all know what Is for their own good. He has had many mis fortunes, too. The spirits have been against him for a time, but all will be well again. At Tarambong th« Igorottcs would not fight because a pink-eyed cara bao ran before them. The Americans used maglo." "I und«rstand you are a Christian, but you talk about spirits?" "Yes. of course, I am a Christian; but we have our own Tagalog spirit*. They understand our needs. Perhaps we have done something to anger them lately, but they will not bo angry long." "What will you do when your husband becomes president, as you expect?" "I shall "have a golden crown with dia monds and rubles and emeralds and a panuela of gold lace." "Wouldn't It be better to be a queen?" "No, we can't have a queen, because the Spaniards have one. Emllio become president, lik« the Immortal Washington, who beat the Spaniards." The Senora would not tell where her husband was, although she said she had news from, him and that he would soon be down upon the Americana with a large army. "You do not know his spirit." s!;a said, "or you would not try to conquer him." The Senora admitted that she had l»c-n very well treated by the American*, and added that Emllio would treat the Ameri cans just as well when ha took Manila. 21