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MESA FREE PRESS.
A. P. Shkwman. \V. D. MiiRTOX MORTON & SHEWMAN, Publisher*. MESA CITY, ARIZONA. - - « r-^n Japan comes to the front with a de falcation of $750,000. And yet they say that country isn’t fully civilized! The Memphis Scimitar says: “Miss O. Hayine left this morning for California.” Poor girl! Even marriage cannot help that name. yVhile Queen Victoria’s reign has been notable in many respects, it has experienced many things which En glishmen would like to forget. The Houston Post undoubtedly is right in saying that “this is a time for sober second thought.” But why not have such thought first occasionally? A woman In Buffalo wanted to buy the entire police force of that city and have the men shot and cremated. And they actually locked her up as a crazy woman. A New York Inventor claims to have d'scovered away to prevent eggs from spoiling and says he can keep them fresh forever. This will be glad tid ings to the one-night-stand actors. A New Jersey wife has applied for a divorce on the ground of extreme cruel ty because her husband put a live tur tle in her bed. That woman doesn’t seem to have found matrimony a soft snap. When you have fixed upon a plan, fven in trivial matters, do not reverse it, except for good reason. Decision of character will thus in time become habitual—and habit has well been de scribed as second nature. If we struggle to overcome a fault or to resist a temptation, and succeed, the lime comes when we lose all desire to commit the wrong; the self-restraint is ever, and we enter into the true free dom, where desire and duty are one. Miss Claire Ferguson, of Salt Lake City, has been commissioned a deputy sheriff. Unless Miss Ferguson’s news paper pictures flatter her, tfe are ready to wager that if she ever issues an at tachment for an unmarried man she will land him. Rockefeller one day gives a million dollars to endow a church or college. The next day with a stroke of the pen he raises the price of some product of od fpr a week and gets it back. This Is “business” in partnership with re ligion. The Waller (Texas) Free Press says: “Who wouldn’t be an editor? When he goes to his office he finds that some friend has been there and left fruits and vegetables. And the best part of it is, there being no graveyard here, we have prospects of living al ways.” The Phillipsburg (Pa.) Record says: “Our handsome young friend, Jack Barnes, is spending a few days in town. Jack is all right and a nice boy ; but those rattlesnake pants are cork ers.”. Well, they might lie worse; sup pose they were trousers. An insurance publication in the East has - issued “Fire Tables for 1897.” Froui this series of figures it is seen that in 1896 the. losses were $118,000,000, a decrease of $24,000,000 from the losses of 1895, $22,000,000 under those of 1894, $50,000,000 less than 1893, and $34,000,- 000 .lower than 1892. Unfortunately there is no text with the figures show ing the cause of the encouraging de crease. The editor of the Merkel (Texas) Mail rises to-remark that “the editor of the Guide has merely assumed greatness, with, no provocation whatever lo don sock an unbecoming disguise. His puerile attempts at witticisms are ir reducible and proportionately irrele vant, He is about as much of an edi tor—and gentleman—as a sheep is a billy goat.” ’ This ought to help to boom the Undertaker's business a little. Sir Ashmead Bartlett’s information from a “source usually reliable” that Queen Victoria will soon abdicate may be correct. Stories of Victoria’s ap proaching abdication have been set afloat at least once a year ever since the prince consort’s death in IS6I, and the world is at last getting skeptical on this point. There has been no volun tary abdication in the annals of British royalty. Few English sovereigns die and none resign. The expected has happened and Kai rer William has written a play. The German Emperor was long overdue for something eccentric, and a survey of the field showed that when he finally broke out it would be in the histrionic line. There was nothing left. He had performed in music, made faces and ether unpleasant pictures, gone to catch whales (and caught Tartars), and done about everything else from failing to go in when it rained to bluff ing the.other powers of* Europe. Now it was .time for him to rise up and shine a^arin, ''and naturally ho wrote a play. A%de&3*iption of the piece has been pub lished. 1 but it is not materia) to the epi sode J>eyond establishing the fact that the dramatic attack is acute. The play will tic praised by the critics and possi bly acted, and that will end the matter ns far as the public is concerned. But William ought to sustain this latest freak longer than has been his custom w’th the others. He ought to inject a part for himself and go into the acting line for a season. He needs the train ing In detail. He has been appearing in various star parts In the European theaters of peace and war, but has failed to make a good impression chief ly because the audience has mistaken his heroics for farce-comedy. The play’s ihe thing, but William must be in it. A genius In Rochester, N. Y., nas dis covered, or thinks he has, the cause of the hard times. He says it is bicycles. There are 30,000 bicycles in that city of 180,000 inhabitants. This wiseacre estimates their cost at $2,100,000, and that the owners do not earn any more wages because they possess the wheels, and therefore concludes that the bulk of the owners economize in the matter of food, boots and shoes, clothing, shaves, drinks, street car rides, liver ies, and so on. That genius thinks that the wheel, which has afforded so much pleasure and brought rosy cheeks to heretofore pale faces in such large numbers, is destined to keep on main taining hard times. That genius will bring up in a madhouse if he does not throw over that peculiar phase of the bicycle question. His friends should present him with a bicycle and set him to riding it. That will be the surest way to divert him from suicide or an insane asylum. What the world wants on the bicycle question is information that will lead to the extinction of the scorcher. Chicago Times-Herald: For many years James Aram resided and pros pered in the pretty village of Delavan, Wis. He was not what might be term ed a rich man at his death, a few weeks ago. He had taken part in most of the enterprises calculated to ad vance the interests of his town. It is apparent that he wanted to live in the thoughts of the people after he had crossed the river, for he generously re membered several of the churches and the cemetery association and theu di rected that $20,000 be used in building a home for superannuated Methodist ministers and their families, to be lo cated at Delavan. That was to be in memory of his father and mother. He did not stop there, but left another $20,000 to be used in establishing a public library and reading-room. These be monuments that are monuments. They are none the less valuable, none the less prized, because the man whose memory will be preserved by them builded them himself. Fortunate, in deed, is the village or city that has a James Aram, living or dead. One of the boasts made upon the ac cession of the present czar was that there would be greater religious free dom for the subjects of Russia. Ac cording to information lately received, however, it would appear that, on the contrary, the established church is go ing to greater lengths than ever in its prosecution of dissenters. With the aid of the government extreme meas ures are being resorted to to punish those who refuse to conform to the regulations of’the State church. These are being carried on by the chief pro curator of the holy synod, who has al ready made himself notorious by his work against the dissenters. The lat ter are said to number from ten to twelve million, embracing many sects and varieties of belief. The curious thing about the prosecutions is that they are being carried out against some persons who, “owing to the absence of a formulated creed, try to strengthen the basis on which their faith is built by conforming themselves to the moral and practical demands of Christian ity.” That is certainly strange ground for prosecution, but the procurator finds it sufficient for the harassing of these people. It will only sow deeper the seeds of the whirlwind which Rus sia is to reap. A movement Is on foot to secure par dons for the notorious Younger broth ers, who have been In prison for the last twenty-one years for complicity In the robbery of the Northfield, Minn., bank and the murder of two men at that time. The Younger and James boys were the leaders of a desperate gang of bank robbers and murderers of that day at whose door many crimes have been laid, but to whom are at tributed by admirers many of those qualities which distinguish better men. Jesse James went to his bloody ac count many years ago. His brother Frank is living a life of comparative decency among a community where the James boys were regarded as deities. The Youngers were captured and have since been in prison. The warden, who is said to favor their release, speaks of their having given twenty-one years of “honest, manly and faithful service to the State,” and a St. Paul newspaper professes to discover that there is “something fundamentally good and noble in men who preferred capture and probable death to deserting a wounded brother.” It is asserted that during their incarceration they have been thoroughly reformed, and that no good can be had by their further im prisonment. If this is really the case they might be liberated, but there is no use in becoming mawkish about the matter. Salary of Senators. • There is a common impression in this country that the salaries of the United States Senators are larger than those of the Representatives. As a matter of fact the two classes are paid exact ly the same—ss,ooo a year each, with allowance for stationery and mileage; There was formerly a difference in the salaries, the Senators being paid a per diem for attendance, the amount being somewhat greater than that of the Representatives, but many years ago this difference was abolished. Cabinet Ministers x*eceive SB,OOO a year each, and this fact is probably responsible for the popular blunder, many persons supposing that a Senator is paid as much as a member of the Cabinet. We wouldn’t be a prodigal sou fo* the little veal there Is in It. PASSING OF THE DRUM. it Will £oon Disappear in Connection with Army Life. Lieutenant Con Marrast Perkins of the United States Marine Corps writes an article entitied “The Last of the Drums,” for St. Nicholas. Lieut. Per kins says: I think few know that of all the time honored equipments ol war which these days of military progress have left us, the drum Is the oldest: but, like the* sword and the bayonet, the drum Is fast disappearing. Its companion, the fife, hallowed by traditions of valor even in our own history, from Lex ington to Gettysburg, is already gone, and another decade will still forever the inspiriting martial music of the drum. What boy has not felt his pulses thrib and his heart swell with patriotic pride and martial ardor while gazing upon the well-known picture of the Revolution, the “Minute Men of ’76” forsaking the ploughshare and flying to take down the old flintlock at the tocsin of war—the throbbing of the drum and the shrill screaming of the fife, sounded by two scarred veterans, bare-headed, white-haired, and In their shirt-sleeves, marching through fields and along the roads, calling the patriots to arms! (Every New England schoolboy has read the story of Abigail and Eliza beth, the sisters of Newburyport, who during the Revolution repelled alone an attack of the British by beating furiously an old drum and blowing a fife, The British troops, who were about to land, hurried back to their ships, thinking a whole army lay in ambush to repulse them! Thus did. a fife and drum drive off the enemy, and save a town from pillage and ruin. The military drum, is supposed to have been introduced iu Europe by the Moors and Saracens, during the middle ages, and was quickly adopted by arm ies, The drum of to-day differs little, and in appearance only, from the earl iest form. It consists, as every boy knows, of two pieces of parchment, oi babter-lieads. stretched over the ends of a hollow cylinder, and struck with sticks. For ages this instrument has been known among savage tribes and barbaric nations, who use Its woil’d music to accompany their reLigious rites, as well as for war purposes. The tom-tom of the Sioux Indian is a good example of a primitive drum. In civilized warfare the drum has ever been connected with deeds oJ martial valor, and its voice is dear to the heart of the soldier who has fol low its pulsing Into tie deadly fire ol battle, or even in reviews and military parades, when rank upon rank sweep up a street keeping perfect alignment and step to the drum’s inspiring heat. It has found a place in history through the daring bravery of more than one beardless boy who lias sound ed a" the critical moment the pas de charge or “rally” just in time to turn the tide of battle. Johnny Clem, the “drummer-boy o i Shiloh,” who beat the .rally withoul orders when his regiment had broken, panic-stricken and thus helped to save the day, was made an officer for hifi heroism, and is now a major in the United States army. In fable, song, and story the drum has ever kept pace with the most val iant deeds of men. Rudpard Kipling’s, pathetic little story of “The Drums of the Fore and Aft,” two courageous drummer-boys who, at the cost of theii own lives, led the charge and saved the honor of their regiment when routed by the Afghans, tells of a deed such as Is to be found fn history as well as In fiction. More than once has the drum claimed a place in the front ranks of storming battalions, or led des perate charges in the van of a vic torious army. What -wonder, then, that we look sorrowfully into the future, when bat tling will no longer be inspired by the “war-drum’s throb”; for we know that the advance of milivary science, with all its death-dealing machine-guns, magazine-rifles, and its smokeless pow der, will surely sound the knell of the drum. A Lesson that Was Practical. Miss H. was lately taking a railway journey. A sauve old gentleman sit ting opposite to her presently bent for ward and said, with gentle reproof: “Excuse me, but do you think it wise when there are so many thieves about, to carry your pocket-book so consqic uously?” As he spoke, he pointed to her purse, which was projecting slightly from her pocket Miss H., considering the stran ger rather officious, thrust the porte monnaie down into her pocket, and thanked him with stiff reserve, per haps a trifle scornfully. At the next station the old gentleman got out As he did so he turned to his pretty vis-a vis with a polite bow and the mis chievous indulgence of his years: “Allow me to restore your pocket book. You see it is not so hard to lose as you supposed!” So saving he held out to her the purse she had supposed was safely reposing in her pocket. Miss H. received it, col oring with childlike mortification, thanked him profusely, and her old friend took his leave with a friendly smile. A few minutes later, when the official come round to collect the tick ets, Miss H. discovered her purse to be minus ticket and cash—empty. A Matter of Ktiquette. “Hicks is crazy about etiquette. He saw in the paper the other day that in the best circles the wife ladles out the soup and he has consequently given up soup.” “Why?” “He has no wife.”—Tid-Bits. It is not sufficient not to intend to do wrong; we intend to do right, and carry out our intentions also. Not to think ' fa in such case a crime. the long, hard hill. , They were standing in the sunlight Os the summer time of life; She was still without a husband, He was waiting for a wife. * And her cheeks were rich and rosy And her lips were luscious red, So he pressed her dimpled fingers , As he looked at her and said, As they stood there in the heather Where the road had crossed the rill: '‘May we not fare together Up this long, hard hill?” Now her hand began to tremble And her eyes were full of tears As she trained them on the road that Wound away among the years; But she had no voice to answer Him; she could not understand, For the future lay before her Like a far-off fairy land. There was sunlight on the heatho., There was music in the rill, As they went away together Up the long, hard hill. \ Oftentimes the way was sunny, Other times ’twas full of lures, But the love that had come to them Was the true love that endures, Though the bonny brow is wrinkled, Though the raven lock be gray, Yet the road might have been rougher Had she gone the other way. Now the frost is on the heather And the snow is on the rill, And they’re coasting down the short side Os the long, hard hill. —Cy Warman, in New York Sun. LOYAL TO COUNTRY. One warm morning in the spring of 1780 Mrs. Slocumb was sitting on the broad piazza about her home on a large plantation in South Carolina. Her hus band and many of his neighbors were with Sumter, fighting for the strug gling colonies, but on this beautiful morning there were almost no signs of war to be seen. As yet this plantation had not been molested, and as Mrs. Slocumb glanced at her little child playing near her, or spoke to her sister, who was her companion, or addressed a word to the servants, there was no alarm manifest. But In a moment the entire scene was changed. “There come some soldiers,” said her sister, pointing tow 7 ard an officer and twenty troopers, who turned out of the highway and entered the yard. Mrs. Slocumb made no reply, al though her face became pale, and there was a tightening of the lips as she watched the men. Her fears were not allayed when she became satisfied that the leader was none other than the hated Col. Tarleton. That short, thick set body, dressed in a gorgeous scarlet uniform, the florid face and cruel ex pression, proclaimed the approaching officer only too well. But the mistress gave no sign of fear as she arose to lis ten to the words of the leader, who soon drew his horse to a halt before her. Raising his cap and bowing to his horse’s neck, he said: “Have I the pleasure of addressing the mistress of this plantation?” “It is my husband’s.’* “And is he here?” > , “He is not.” “He is no rebel, is he?” “No, sir. He is a soldier In the army of his country and fighting her invad ers.” “He must be a rebel and no friend of his country if he fights against his king.” “Only slaves have masters here,” re plied the undaunted woman. Tarleton’s face flushed, but he made no reply, and, turning to one of his companions, gave orders for a camp to be made in the orchard near by. Soon the 1,100 men in his command had pitched their tents, and the peaceful plantation took on the garb of war. Returning to the piazza and again bowing low the British colonel said: “Necessity compels his majesty’s troops to occupy your place for a time, and I will have to make my quarters In your house; that is, If it will not be too great an inconvenience to you.” “My family consists at present of only myself, my child and sister, be sides the servants, and we must obey your orders.” In less than an hour the entire place was transformed. The white tents covered the lawn, horses were tied to “ho’ ox, massa!” the high rail fences, soldiers in bright uniforms were moving here and there. Before entering the house the British colonel called some of his officers and gave sharp orders for scouring the j country within the neighborhood of , ten or fifteen miles. . . j This sharp command was not lost upon Mrs. Slocumb, nor was she slow ! to act upon it herself, as we soon shall ; see. But for the present, trying to sti ! fle her fears, she determined to make I the best of the situation and avert all j the danger possible by providing for the comfort of Tarleton and his men, ' and accordingly she bad a dinner soon \ ready fit for a king, and surely far too Jgood for such a cruel and bloodthirsty man as Tarleton soon was known to be. When the colonel and his staff were summoned to the dining-room they sat down to a table which fairly, groaned beneath the good things heaped upon it. It was such a dinner as only the South Carolina matrons knew how to prepare, and the men soon became jo vial under its influences. “We shall have few sober men by morning,” said a captain, “if this is the way we are to be treated. I suppose when this little war is over all this country will be di vided among the soldiers. Eh, col onel?” “Undoubtedly the officers will occupy large portions of the country.” replied Tarleton. “Yes, I know just how much they will each occupy,” said Mrs. Slocumb, unable to maintain silence longer. “And how much will that be, mad am?” inquired Tarleton, bowing low. “Six feet two.” The colonel’s face again flashed with anger, as he replied: “Excuse me, but I shall endeavor to have this very plantation made over to me as a ducal seat.” “I have a husband, whom you seem to forget, and I can assure you he is not the man to allow even the king himself to have a quiet seat on his ground.” But the conversation suddenly was interrupted by the sounds of firing. “Some straggling scout running away,” said one of the men, not quite willing to leave the table. “No, sir. There are rifles there, and a good many of them, too,” said Tarle ton, rising quickly and running to the piazza, an example which all, including Mrs. Slocumb, at once followed. She was trembling now, for she felt assur ed that she could explain the cause of the commotion. “May I ask, madam,” said Tarleton, turning to her as soon as he had given his orders for the action of his troops, “whether any of Washington’s forces are in this neighborhood or not?” bowing”" TO HIS HORSE’S NECK. “You must know that Gen. Green and the marquis are in South Carolina, and I have no doubt you would be pleased to see Lee once more. He shook your hand very warmly the last time he met you, I am told.” An oath escaped the angry colonel’s lips, and he glanced for a moment at the scar which the wound Lee had made had left on his hand, but he turn ed abruptly and ordered the troops to form on the right and he dashed down the lawn. A shout and the sound of firearms drew the attention of Mrs. Slocumb to the long avenue that led to the house. A cry escaped her at the sight, for there was her husband, followed by two of her neighbors, pursuing on horseback a band of five tories whom Tarleton had sent to scour the country. On and on they came, and it was evi dent that the pursuers were too busy to have noticed the army of Tarleton. Broad swords and various kinds of weapons were flashing in the air, and it was plain that the enraged Slocumb saw nothing but the tories he was pur suing. Could nothing be done? Would they run into the very heart of the camp? Mrs. Slocumb tried to scream and warn her husband, but not a souud could she make. One of the tories had just fallen, when she saw her hus band’s horse suddenly stop and swerve to one side. What was the cause? Sambo, the slave whom Mrs. Slo cumb had dispatched, as soon as Tarle ton had come, to warn her husband, had started promptly on his errand, but the bright coats of the British had so charmed him that he had lingered about the place, and when the sound of the guns was heard Sambo had gone only as far as the hedgerow that lined the avenue. Discretion became the better part of valor then, and the negro in his fear had crawled beneath it for shelter; but when his frightened face beheld his master approaching he had mustered enough courage to crawl forth from his hiding place and startle the horses as they passed. “Hoi’ on, massa! Hoi’ on!” he shout ed. Recognizing the voice, Slocumb and I his followers for the first time stop- ' ped and glanced about them. Off to their left were a thousand men within ’ pistol shot. As they wheeled their horses they saw a body of horsemen leaping the hedge and already in their rear. Quickly wheeling again, they started directly for the house near which the guard had been stationed. On they swept, and, on leaping the fence of lath about the garden patch, amid a shower of bullets, they through the open lots. Another er of bullets fell about them as thfl horses leaped the bread brook, VI canal, as it was called, and then most before the guard had cleared the fences they had gained the shelter of the woods beyond and were safe. The chagrin of the British Tarleton was as great as the relief of Mrs. Slo cumb, and when on the following day the troops moved on, the cordial adieu of the hostess led the colonel to say: “The British are not robbers, madam. We shall pay you for all we have taken.” “I am so rejoiced at what you have not taken that I shall not complain if I do not hear from you again.” And she neither heard nor complain ed.—Everett T. Tomlinson, in Chicagt Record. Use for Old Street Cars. The many uses to which the old horse cars have been put in San Francisco are indeed striking. In this city the horse cars have almost entirely disappeared before the cable "and electric cars, and as a result the street railway companies found themselves with a large number of cars upon their hands. They were slow of sale until some enterprising genius hit upon the idea of utilizing them for house boats. This pioneer purchased four of these street cars at sls apiece. He then took off the trucks and running-gear, and fastened the bodies of the cars upon a flat boat or scow 36x54 feet over all. They are partitioned off, so that they make two large, airy rooms, 18x24, with one small room for a bath closet and kitchen. In each of the large rooms four double berths are placed, and in the kitchen is a cot for a servant. The sleeping rooms are divided off by curtains de scending from the ceiling. All the rooms are well-ventilated, as the car ventilators have not been removed. A railing is placed around the outer edge of the house boats, and there are davits for boats and a naphtha launch. Such a house boat costs about S9OO, and the owner gets good value for the money. The old street cars have also been turn ed into cheap summer cottages, small conservatories and children’s plfty houses, and they have been used for small shops in the suburbs of San Fran cisco. Out on the ocean beach there is quite a large colony of them. Some of them are used as shops for purveying to the needs of bicyclers, and a number of others are utilized by bicyclers as club houses. They are comfortably fit ted up with baths, and lockers for their clothes, and racks for keeping their wheels. Some of them even have small kitchens for the serving of luncheons. While they are not highly ornamental as an addition to a landscape, they cer tainly serve a very useful purpose.—A r« gonaut. Not Specific Enough. “Am I the only woman you ever loved ?” “Oh, no,” he answered promptly; “you are the sixth.” “The sixth!” she exclaimed, sudden ly relieving his shoulder of the weight of her head. “Yes,” he said, coldly, “there are five before you—my mother, an aunt and three sisters.” And thereafter she endeavored to be more specific when asking questions.— Tit-Bits. His Wastefulness. Sapsmitli—Do you know, Miss Sally, I spend a gweat deal of my time in self contemplation? Sally Gay—lsn’t that more like throv.t ing it away than spending it, Mr. Sap smith?—Puck. 4