Newspaper Page Text
f&ht gputalmu ptatl* jT F. WALLACE, PUBLISHER - AND - PROPRIETOR Winslow, Arizona The Philadelphia Item editorially re marks: “Speaking of wheels—we’ve ?ot ’em.” Open confession Is said to be good for the soul. The New York Sun probably is right In suggesting that “too many people ire drowned every year.” How many would be about the proper quota, any way? A Boston restaurateur advertised in the window “choice molluscous bi valves,” and a visitor from Philadel phia walked right by the place four times looking for an oyster stew. More than a century ago Horace Wal pole wrote. “How unfortunate that lit tle countries should retain a spirit of Independence, which they have not strength to preserve, and that great nations who might throw it off court the yoke.” Thus he anticipated the Greece and Germany of to-day. A woman recently returned from the Klondike says she received fifty offers of marriage before she was fifty miles up the Yukon. But she waited until she reached the mines and married a man who was panning out $50,000 a month. Declining a score of proposals a day in Alaska must be almost as try ing as the mosquitoes. Kaiser Wilhelm’s plan of making war In a Pullman palace car looks a little like an attempt to revive the methods of the ancient Greeks at the siege of Troy. The wooden horse worked beau tifully, and so may the Kaiser’s on paper, as many of his devices do, but the latter might prove slightly im practicable if the enemy should happen to capture the track upon which his car fortress runs. According to a Tacoma special a whale has been utilized as a motive power for boats in that vicinity. This Is a hint that may be of Interest to gold seekers impatient to reach the Klon dike region, but unable to find vessel room. The most serious objection to the whale as a motive power grows out of the fact that the power might take It into its head to go in the wrong direc tion or even take deep sea soundings, which might prove a little inconvenient to the “argonauts” following him. While most institutions of learning are reaching out for students and mak ing every effort to accommodate new ones, Williams, always an exclusive college, is preparing to restrict the number who will be taught there. Not only are the standards to be raised and the requirements to be Increased, but fewer pupils will receive financial aid. As this is not done to meet the require ments of economy, the advisability of the policy may be questioned. But our colleges are undergoing some strange changes of late. Another attempt has been made, this time by Colonel Higginson, to write a suitable national anthem for our coun try, and to furnish it with music which shall be at once original and dignified. The endeavor is a worthy one. But one cannot help remarking that the nation al songs which find places in the hearts of a people are rarely if ever the prod uct of deliberate and conscious effort, however patriotic They are struck out, as by Inspiration, in the heat of some national crisis, in the stress of some na tional movement. The conditions have never yet been ripe for the birth of the real national anthem of the United States. The golf widow is a new institution at the seaside. A Newport correspond ent says the golf widows have hus bands who “play all day, stay away to lunch, then come home at night all tired out and want to sit down to a sup per of beefsteak and potatoes, declar ing that they are too hungry to trifle with a course dinner.” After a hearty meal they smoke a strong pipe on the veranda and go to bed at 10. Golf wid ows are of all ages, even grandfatlierly husbands deserting their wives to “chase a bouncing ball over half of the island.” The game should be modified so that the grandmothers may share in the fun. The town of Lewiston, Me., is gov erned by a Mayor who pays only $24 In taxes, seven Aldermen who pay an average of S4B and twenty-one Council men who pay an average of SB7 each. There are busy bodies in Lewiston who thing that this is not fair to the tax payers of a town of that importance. As a matter of fact, all things being equal, there should be no question as to the ability of the authorities of that place to govern it properly, irrespective of the amount of their individual taxes. As a rule, liowever.the men who govern cities are not the heavy taxpayers. It is too often the case ’hat the disposi tion of millions of public funds is in the hands of a saloonkeeper or some man who has failed in the retail grocery business. By the way, how many figures would it take to represent the taxes of the average alderman of Chicago? Atlanta Journal: The city boy grows up in a contracted space. The square upon which he lives is his world, the little things of earth he despises, and he begins to burn the candle of exist ence too soon. For him there is little opportunity for the display of sterling manhood or the enjoyment of life in its relation to nature. The country boy is, from the first, a child of necessity, and early learns the lesson of how to make ends meet. The ways and means of life Is a hard and effective school from which to graduate. The pupils therein cannot sit down with folded hands and wait for help, but they must help them selves, and at once. The broad fields give scope to the mind and strength to the heart—the country l>oy is a man at 10, though he does not know it, and at 20 he stands a young giant, while nis city cousin is the dyspeptic victim ee | ▼lie cigarettes and bad hours. The reported chloroforming of three adults and two children by burglars in an English town, in order that the bouse might be robbed, is looked uyen by medical journals with some incredu lity It is said that the victims knew nothing of the presence of the robbers un 1 they awoke late the next day and found that the house had been looted. This is the point which raises the dhubts of the medical experts. They hold that it would be next to impossible for the robbers to have accomplished this without disturbiug the slumbers of their victims. Scientists have tried with poor success to place sleeping pa tients under the influence of chloroform without disturbing them. Dolbear is said to have only succeeded iu the ex periment with ten persons out of a total of twenty-nine whom he treated. This was when a trained scientist worked witli the greatest care. Physicians say that it is rarely, except in the case of infants, that the chloroforming of sleep ing persons is successful. That burg lars untrained in the use of anaesthet ics should succeed so completely as iu this case seems most improbable. Some men in Chicago are working up on an “umbrella” sail which they pro pose to experiment with upou small sailing craft. This sail was tried nt the Cowes regatta and made a sensation among the sailors of yachts. Scientists and navigators believe that with cer tain modifications this sail will be made to take the place of the ordinary can vas article manipulated by ropes. The new sail resembles a Japanese umbrel la, and its upper edge is secured near the top of the niast with blocks and halyards and the main sheet is fasten ed at some distance from the bottom qt the sail. The shape may be changed at will to suit the occasion by opening or shutting it just as though it were an umbrella. It can be adapted to the ease or violence of the wind with much more facility than the ordinary sail. Not only landlubbers but expert sailors have long thought that there could be improvements made in the present manner of handling sail ships. The old method of sails lias always seemed very clumsy and uncertain, and maybe this umbrella arrangement will sim plify and make much safer the hand ling of small boats. One effect of the great changes which have taken place in modern warfare, and especially the improvement }n the destructive power of modern gunnery, is the abandonment of the use of colors iu the armies of Europe. Lord Wolseley pointed out this the other day when he presented a set of the colors of the cele brated regiment, the Sixty-fourth foot, to be placed upon the walls of a cathe dral. In the wars of the future the sol diers will have to draw their inspira tion from something else than the regi mental colors. This, too, will do away with the brave and useful officer, the color sergeant, for, as the English gen eral says, it would be madness and crime to order a man in a war nowa days to carry the colors into the battle. Every color so displayed would be shot away at the first fire and its bearer killed. The German army, while dis carding the colors themselves, has still retained the poles upou which the flags once waved, but these have to be car ried so as not to be seen by the enemy. This, it would seem, could be of little service to their own soldiers. It takes the actual sight of the national or regi mental coloriTto inspire the warrior. Not to be able to see them will, for the veterans, be almost like seeing defeat. There is no great loss without some gain. The depression of the past year has been accompanied by a noteworthy diminution of immigration from the Old World. The completed returns of the arrival of immigrants* in the fiscal year ended June 30, 1897, show that one hundred and eighty thousand, in round numbers, landed in America. This was a smaller number than in any jxrevious year since 1879. The num ber was less by oue hundred and sixty two thousand than iu the fiscal year ended June 30, 1890, and nearly a hun dred thousand less than in 1895, which was reckoned a year of small immigra tion. As compared with the immigra tion for 1892, which was more than six hundred and twenty-three thousand, the figures for last year are indeed small. They represent, however, a large mass in the aggregate; and the fact that among them there were about thirty-eight thousand, not including young children, who could neither read nor write, shows that the immigration was larger than it should have been by at least that figure. Until such illiter ate immigrants are definitely excluded, our immigration laws will certainly bo in a defective state. The total amount of money brought into the country by immigrants, presumably to be expend ed here, is commonly spoken of as con futing a new element of wealth for the country. The immigrants of 1897 brought with them a total amount a trifle in excess of six hundred and sev enty thousand dollars. This is a re spectable sum, but as it amounts to less than four dollars to each imml- I grant, it will be seen that the line which separates them as a whole from destitution on their arrival is very nar row. Moreover, it is highly probable that more money was sent out of the country, earned here, to bring these Immigrants, than they brought with them, in which case the balance ol’ the account is on the wrong side of our ledger after all. Fishermen of St. Pierre and Miquelon Near the west coast of Newfoundland are the islands of St. Pierre and Mique lon. They are the last relics of the onee great possessions of France iu North America. They have a French governor and a uniformed French police. Many French fishermen make their headquar ters on these islands. These Frenchmen “sail their trawls.” Their fishing ves sels are much larger tliaq ours, and in clude even barks. Instead of dories they carry sail boats. The vessel comes to anchor, and near her each boat drops its first trawl-keg overboard. Then one boat will set a zigzag trawl by tacking agaiust the wind, another will run a straight-away course, so that the trawls, while all convei-ging toward the vessel, do not interfere with one an other. Then. too. the fishermen can in foggy weather get back to the vessel by simply underrunning their trawls. Our fishermen set theirs where they think they will hook the most fish, and the vessel, instead of coming to anchor, cruises about where she put the dorieti ever.—St. Nicholas. Some people who have been East within three months say it is no longer proper to use napkins at the table. FRAYNE’S FATAL SHOT. American Parallel to the Recent Shootlnn on the German Stage. The conviction of a German expert j marksman in a Bei’ltu court of the crime of "pandering to the public lust for excitement” was the result of an accident almost identical in evei*y de tail with a tragedy that occurred some years ago in this country. About six weeks ago in a Berlin music hall a marksman attempted to shoot an apple from the head of a young girl. He had frequently accomplished the feat be fore with success. But through some inaccuracy In aim the bullet, instead of passing through the apple, struck the woman in the head and killed her in stantly. He was sentenced for this to six months’ imprisonment. There was no charge of negligence or criminal in tent. So the charge that he had at tempted to “pander to the public lust for excitement” was iuvented to fit his case. The victim of the American tragedy was Annie Yon Behren, and the xnan who shot her was Frank I. Frayne, who, when he retired from the stage, had made a foi’tune through his expei’t ness as a marksman, For many years be had traveled through the United States acting in a play called “Si Slo cum.” It was a rough-and-ready piece, devised chiefly to exhibit his skill in shooting and in the management of wild animals. He carried a whole men agerie about with him, and this method of exhibiting his talents had been adopted after an unsuccessful career as au actor. His wife, Clara Butler, whq used to sing in his plays and act the part of Mrs. Slocum, was for a long time the woman on whom his feats of shooting were tried. One of the best known of these was that in which, standing with his back to her, be shot an apple from her head, and as in the story of William Tell, this incident was a crucial one in the play. When his wife died, a young Brooklyn girl named Annie Von Behren took her place in the company. The apple-shoot ing feat was successfully continued for three years. It was done every night and frequently twice at the many mati nees given in the cheap theaters at which Frayne appeared. Toward the end of November, 1882, the company reached a theater iu Cin cinnati known as the Coliseum. It had been opened only two weeks when “Si Slocum” was acted there. On Thanks giving Day there were more than 2,000 persons in the theater at the extra mat inee. The play progressed to the scene in which the apple was to be shot from Mrs. Slocum’s head. The apple was placed on the giii’s head and Frayne took aim and fii’ed. As they heard the crack of the rifle, the spectators saw Miss Von Behren fall to the stage with spot of blood on her forehead. The actor turned and. seeing what had oc curred, ran to the spot where the girl lay and fell fainting by her side. The curtain dropped immediately, and the manager appeared before the curtain to announce that the play would be brought to an end immediately. Some of the audience had supposed that the scene was a part of the play. But it was soon whispered about that the girl had been killed. The holiday crowd in the streets heard the report, and before lung MTornl thousand people laid gath ered in front of the building, although nobody knew certainly of the tragedy inside. The girl died within a few minutes after the bullet struck her over the left eye. Frayne, who was frantic with ex citement, was locked up. The apple was four inches above her head on a hat, and the accidental use of a defect ive cartridge was the cause of her death. Frayne protested that there was no danger iu the backward shot, as it had i 7 epeatedly been done without serious results. The coroner’s jury re leased him and he declaimed that he would never shoot again. But after a brief retirement he returned to the stage and acted in his drama for nine years longer, although he never re peated the backward shot with a wom an, and indeed abandoned the play in which the accident occurred. It is said of the German that he was about to marry the girl he killed, and the same story was told of Frayne and Miss Von Behren. He died about six years ago, and the shock he received when he killed the girl Is said to have impaired his health seriously. The shot that killed Miss Von Behren seems to have had a fatal effect on plays of this class. Twenty years ago they w r ere highly popular, and they continued so down to a very recent date. But they have almost w holly dis appeared from the stage now.—New 7 York Sun. Cucumbers and Roaches. “Housekeepers like to be reminded now and then,” xremarked a well-known lady to a Washington Star reporter, “of lots of little things in connection with their affairs. It is not that they do not know of them themselves, but with the thousands of other little things to re member they forget. It is for that rea son that I would like to remind them that cucumbers are the most effective destroyers of roaches of anything that I know of. It is not necessary to cut up the cucumbers, for the ordinary trimmings from them when being pre pared for the table will suffice. Simply scatter the peel or trimmings about in the places where the roaches are seen. The roach eats them and thereby ends his existence. In case the roach does not feel hungry enough the first night and tne cucumber is not sufficiently attractive throw the trimmings into the stove the next morning and set out a fresh lot the next night. The green coloring matter that kills the roaches ffir the same thing that makes cucum bers so annoying at times to the human family.” The Fraternal Orders. The recently published statistics of the fraternal and benevolent associa tions of t lie United States pi*esent soiue facts that may be surprising to per sons who have never looked into the subject. The total membership of these orders is 7,350,000, of which number about 1,000.000 are Free Masons, more than 800,000 Odd Fellows and about 500,000 Knights of Pythias. The rest are scattered throughout many organ izations. the best known of which are the Ancient Order of Foresters and the Ancient Order of United Workmen. The size of this fraternity army can be better appreciated when it is consid ered that at the last presidential elec tion the total vote cast in the United j Fiatos wns about 11.090 000, sea recti rouble the size of iLe fraternity L.rsLl.'. i The development of these fra tern:'. < and benevolent organizations has been largest in recent years because of the extension of what is known as the “sys tem of sick benefits.” Members have been guaranteed a certain means of support in case of sickness and a pro portionate return in the way of life in surance for the money paid in when they die, and these features have serv ed to popularize the various orders to an extraordinary degiee. In this re spect also the organizations have been oi marked benefit. The aid which is given to members is in no sense a charity and does not de preciate the recipient’s self-respect, while ut the same time the public is re lieved of many Durdens which would otherwise he imposed on it. These or ders, in caring for their sick and provid ing for the families of their dead, are really doing much of the work that formerly was done by the church, only they 7 have enlarged this w ork to an im mense extent. They are wholesome factors iu every community, and be sides the direct financial benefits they distribute they exei 7 t a moral Influence Which cannot be overestimated. DANES IN AMERICA. They Are Industi lons, Economical and Make Good Citizens. The State of lowa has one Danish settlement of 5,000 people, says a writ er. Most of these Danes have been in the country less than twenty years. Many of them came without a cent and hired themselves out to American farm ers. It has been an interesting study to watch the steady rise of these young men, some of them In time buying their employers’ farms. Iu Jackson Town slrip, Shelby County, w 7 iihin a radius of about two miles, can be found five farms of 200 or more acres each, be longing to Danes who, twenty years ago, w 7 ere considei’ed very poor. In the settlement ai 7 e a number of Danish farms of over 500 acres each. When we consider that these men came here un able to speak our tongue, unfamiliar with American customs and laws, un used to the products of Yankee inven tive genius, and withal, lacking the al mighty dollar and the Danish ki-one, their success must be declared phe nomenal. The secret of their advancement seems to lie in their unceasing industi 7 y and rigid economy. Every nook and coi’uer of their land is carefully culti vated. Unproductive “points” and ridges upon which so many farmers shower nothing but curses are treated to load after load of fertilizing ele ments. Nothing is wasted. Sometimes, how 7 evei\ this spirit of thrift reaches a degree not sanctioned by asthetic hor ticulture. On a certain i 7 oad leading through the settlement lives a man whose home life seems to be no less a “glad, sw r eet song” from the fact that his front yard Is planted to onions! No less rapid has been the reward of Danish talent engaged in pursuits oth er than agriculture. Every town of any size in the district in question has flourishing stores managed by Danish merchants, Nearly all trades have some Danish followers. Many of our teachers are Dane# 7 or Danish-Ameri cans, the county superintendent of Shelby, for example, a graduate of the lowa State Normal School, being a Dane. As i 7 egards good citizenship, no fault can be found with the Danish people. They ai 7 e a thinking class, as a rule, and know something of curi’ent events and the issues of the times. The aver age Dane votes as Intelligent!} 7 for a member of Congress as he votes for a member of the Danish Rigsdag. As to party allegiance, the Danish voters ai 7 e almost evenly divided between the Democratic and Republican parties. There are also a few Populists among them. Naval Mishaps. We have a good navy, and we do not appreciate it. As a matter of fact, cas ualties to our new armorclads and cruisers have not been particularly fre quent w 7 hen their size and their number are considered. In tills couutx-y every trivial mischance is caught up axid ex ploited by the sensational newspapers, but nothing is said of similar accidents in foreign navies. Barring the destruc tion of Admiral Kimberly’s fleet by the Samoan hurricane In 1889, which no skill or foresight could have prevented, our naval service for many years has been remarkablv free from really seri ous disastex - s. There is nothing in our records to compare with the capsizing of the Brit ish frigate Captain with half a thou sand men in 1870, or the fatal collision of the British Ironclads Vanguxrd and Iron Duke in 1875 or that of the Ger man ironclad Kaiser Wilhelm and Grosser Kurfurst tlio year follow.ug, when 300 men perished, or the loss of the British training ships Eurydice and Atlanta iu 1878 and 1880 with 000 offi cers, sailors and apprentice boys, or the sinking of the British flagship Victoria, with Admiral Tyroxi, twenty-two offi cers and 830 sailors, by collision w 7 ith the Camperdown on June 22, 1893, in the Mediterranean, or the wreck of the Spanish cruiser Reina Regexite, on March 10, 1895, with 420 officers and seamen. The list of minor accidents to foreign naval vessels iu the past few years would be too long to enumerate. But the standing of the British ironclads Howe and Anson, the flagship Ain pliion and the cruiser Sultan were far more grave affairs than any such acci dents which have occurred to any of our own heavy vesscis within this pe riod. Wo have led mr fair share of troubles, perhaps, Let no more time that. Circumstances Alter Cases. Doctor—“ Are you wealthy enough, madam, to spend the summer in the upper lake regions?” Madam—“We have avei 7 y small in come, sir.” Doctor —“On closer examination I find that yours is not a case of hay fever, but ouly a bad cold iu the head.” —Detroit Free Press. Beatitude. “How do you like your wings?” The ungel with the baby stare beam ed radiantly. “Very much,” she i-e --plied. “They rustle almost exactly like a silk petticoat.”—Truth. Don’t take advantage of every op portunity to find fault. 1 I — ~ : | VOICE OF THE | i. “T" ~T" PON my word it’s too bad!” I exclaimed Mr. Mainwaring, as having wished everybody j good-morning lie sat down to the break fast table, and proceeded, before com i mencing that meal, to glance through . his letters according to custom. "It j i really is too bad!” he repeated, crim soning with indignation, and giving an 3 angry stamp of his foot, in so doing .’treading on the foot of Jumbo, his wife's pet pug, and causing that much -3 pampered animal to give utterance to y I a loud yell, and retreat further under r the table to the shelter of his mistress’ - petticoats. g “My dear,” said Mrs. Mainwaring, e pausing in the act of pouring out the . squire’s coffee, “what is the matter s now? Nothing wrong with Sunbeam’s a little foal, I trust.” 3 “No, thanks, my dear, not so bad as a that,” answered her husband, “but . quite bad enough, in all conscience. r It’s that dreadful felloxv Wilder, at the . Lea farm, again. I wish to goodness . he had never come near the place, with . all my heart.” “Horrid man.” agreed Mrs. Mainwar _ Ing. “I can’t bear the sight of him. What has he done now, dear?” t “Done?” exclaimed her husband. “Why, stuck up barbed wire all over j his farm, to be sure, and refuses to re move it on any pretense whatever, so ■j Higgins writes me word. g | “Here we have the hounds coming I here on Thursday, and they And in _ 1 Nightingale wood, as they are perfect , ly certain to do, for I know for a fact 3 there are two or three foxes there, they are equally certain to run right across , his land, and a pretty kettle of fish ’ will be the result. t “Half the hounds maimed, and men t and horses tumbling about in every di rection.” f, “Oh! I can’t bear the thoughts of it!” “I shall simply have to ask Hartopp f not to draw there, and a pretty fool I shall look. I really don’t know what ' to do about it.” a j “Why not go and see the man your-1 r self, and try and bring him to reason?” , suggested his wife. “Surely, my dear, ! f he would listen to you.” j, “Listen to me?” ejaculated the squire. “Not he. Besides, I know per ’ feetly well what would be the result. He would meet my arguments with some of his republican sentiments, and ' I should lose my temper and make a ’’ fool of myself.” s “Well,” sighed his wife, “it’s a very great pity, I’m sure. I only wish I 1 knew what was best to be done. But never mind now, dear,” she added, 1 soothingly, “get on with your breakfast, ~ and then afterward you can speak to Higgins again on the subject, and per ’ haps you will be able to devise some ’ plan between you for bringing this horrid man Wilder to reason.” “And, pray, who may this horrid t man Wilder be?” inquired a young and - very pretty girl, who at this juncture 1 entered the room and sat herself down - at the breakfast table, after kissing r both Mr. Mainwaring and his wife lov ingly and wishing them “good-morn - ing.” , The squire looked affectionately into 3 the fair questioner’s face ere he an swered her. “Don’t ask me, Gladys,” said he > laughingly; “don’t ask if you love me. , He has already spoiled my breakfast 3 for me, and I feel perfectly certain . that were I to tell you all about him he would spoil yours, and that would be a 3 great pity, eh, my pretty niece?” “It would, indeed,” retorted the girl, . “for I have such an appetite as never , was. Joking apart, though, I am real j ly curious, Uncle William,” she con tinued, “so I will compromise with you j —eat my breakfast first and you shall tell me afterward. Don’t you think j that a very fair arrangement, sir?” j The squire agreed at once to the terms, as, indeed, he would have to anything proposed by his favorite niece. ’ The only child of his one sister, late ly dead, Gladys Onslow had taken up 1 her permanent abode at Charlton Tow -1 ers only three weeks ago, during which J Bhort period she had managed to con -1 vert every individual member of the * establishment into being her devoted slave, including her uncle and aunt, 1 who. childless as they were, quite look * ed upon her as their daughter. ' As for the squire, he was perfectly ; helpless without her, and Miss Gladys was his constant companion wherever ' he went. He declared she was a better judge 1 of stock than his bailiff himself, and as ■ for her knowledge of horseflesh, who f was there about the place who could 1 compete with her? And how she rode tooj Many ami many a time, when ac companying Ins niece in her rides, did her uncle regret that his salad days were over, and that he was no longer able to pilot her over this place and that, instead of looking on from the ; broad back of his favorite cob while j she larked about at her own free will, : for she was uncommonly fond of riding | over a country, was Miss Gladys. As her groom said, ‘The fence was ( never made yet that could stop his young lady when the hounds were run ning.” True to his promise, after breakfast the squire unbosomed himself to his niece with regard to his refractory ten ant at the Lea farm— “the only farm, by the way. my dear,” he added. "where I have not introduced you. for the very i good reason why, because I have such a strong personal dislike to its tenant. I even avoid shooting over the place as much as possible, because I can’t bear the sight of the fellow. Just fancy, my dear, afraid even to walk over my own property—my own property, forsooth. Nasty, cantankerous wretch!” wound up the squire in his wrath. “I w r ish somebody would knock him on the head. 1 do, Indeed!” “Fie, for shame, sir!” exclaimed his niece, laughing, putting her pretty hand over his mouth as she spoke. “And his name is Wilder?” she con tinued, “and I knew such a dear old man of that name years ago—he was one of poor papa’s tenants, indeed. “I wonder now r ,” she mused, “could it be the same man? He left to go to Australia, so I understood—for I was only a litle girl at the time. And we were such friends, too! “Uncle,” exclaimed the girl, a flush of excitement coming over her face, “if you don’t mind I will ride over this morning and see for myself. “If it is the same man—and I have a very great idea it is, do you know—l will undertake that every bit of that horrid wire fencing is taken down be tween this and to-morrow morning. Say, I will even have a bet with you on the subject. Come, sir, w r hat odds will you give me?” “I won’t bet. I utterly decline to bet, you little gambler,” returned her laugh ing uncle, “for I hate losing money, but I will tell you what I will do, my Gladys, if you only succeed in your un dertaking, I will give you the very best hunter or the prettiest bracelet that can be bought for money. I believe it’s a real ‘good thing’ for you, too, you minx, you,” he added, pulling her ear, “for now I come to think of it I be lieve I did hear that this objectionable tenant of mine had been in Australia before he came down here to sit upon my shouders like the old man of the sea.” “Don’t say another word, dear un cle,” cried Miss Gladys. “I haven’t my I betting book about me, so I seal the i bargain with this kiss (suiting the ac j tion to the word), and now I’m off to : put my habit on and order my horse.” “Good-by, dear, w r e shall meet again —not on the Rialto, but at luncheon,” and bestowing another kiss on the en raptured old gentleman the lively girl rushed from the room. 11. The stable clock was just striking half-past 1, simultaneously with the rumbling of the gong announcing the fact that luncheon was ready, as Gla dys Onslow r with her attendant groom came cantering through the park. The squire, who had been waiting for her for the last half hour, seized a hat and rushed hastily out into the stable yard, where he knew she would dis mount, to await her coming with min gled feelings of delight at her return, and curiously to know how she had succeeded on her mission of diplomacy with his refractory tenant. “Here I am, uncle, safe and sound, you see, and I’ve had, oh! such a lark! Brilliant’s legs are full of thorns, I fear, poor dear,” exclaimed happy Gladys, her face flushed with pleasure and excitement, and looking prettier than ever. Off her horse she jumped in her ac customed impetuous fashion, and, hav ing administered her usual hug, she took her uncle’s arm and ordered him to take her in to luncheon at once. “Well, and how did you get on, my child?” inquired the squire. “Not a w'ord, sir, until I get into the dining-room, and then you shall hear it all,” was the fair tyrant’s reply. “Why, by Jove! I do verily believe you’ve got over that old curmudgeon, you artful little minx, you!” exclaimed her uncle in great glee, hurrying her into the house as quickly as possible, all agog to hear her news. Through some back passages they went, and then, opening a green baize door, found themselves in the entrance hall. “Come, now,” said the squire, as they entered the dining-room, where Mrs. Mainwaring was waiting for them; “I won’t wait a moment longer; so tell your aunt and me all about the result of your ride this instant, miss, or I’ll retract my promise of the diamond bracelet I made this morning.” “Listen, then, ladies and gentlemen —or. rather, I should say aunt and un cle,” said the fair Gladys, standing in the center of the hearthrug and raising her whip to insure silence. “What should you say if. paying a visit to the Lea farm to-morrow r morn ing. you were to find that every vestige of barbed wire had disappeared from its fences? Would you allow that the persuasive powers of your devoted niece were somewhat of a higher order than usual?” “By Jove, indeed I should!” burst forth her uncie. “But you don’t mean to say it’s a fact, Gladys, that you [ have actually got that old bear to do | as you say, do you?” “Indeed I do, uncle; and he’s not a | bear at all, allow me to say—only rath ! er rough, that’s all, poor man. Old John Wilder is as good a fellow' as ever breathed, if you only humor him a lit tle—as you must in future, uncle, if only for my sake.” “Well, wonders will never cease, that’s very certain.” said her uncle; “and how' on earth you manage it,” he continued, “I can’t for the life of me Imagine.” “I will tell you,” said Miss Gladys. “Arrived at the ogre’s castle, having carefully kept to the sides of the foot path all the way, partly from diplo macy. partly because I did not want «'.ther Brilliant or myself to be annoy ed by barbed wire, I inquired of the n aid servant who came to the door if Mr. Wilder was at home. He was round in the straw yard. she said, and she would go and fetch him, if I would w ait a moment. “I waited accordingly, and presently the ogre appeared. ‘How do you do, Mr. M ilder?’ I said. ‘Your servant, miss,’ answered he, his grim features relax ing a little, I fancied, as he looked me over. ‘You don’t recollect me, I see,’ said I, ‘but you and I are very old friends for all that, Mr. Wilder.’ ‘Old friends! Why, who be ’ee, then, in the name o’ fortin'?’ he replied, looking at me so hard, oh! so hard, uncle. ‘Have you quite forgotten little Gladys Ons low, who you used to be so kind to when you lived at Hazeldean farm i down in Warwickshire?’ ‘Forgotten? 1 No!' he almost roared, ‘and never shall, ! that’s more! And you’re her? Coorn, off your horse this instant, my pretty, and into the house and have a talk wT > me over old times.’ Oh, uncle the poor t. old man, do you know, was so pleased. s When I got off my horse and when he r held out his hand and 1 not only took y it, but gave him a kiss into the bargain; n he actually shed tears, no did Indeed, i. Well, I went in and had a glass of milk, 3 and we had such a talk of old times as h never was. And when we had finished e I told him what I had come about. He listened attentively, and then he said, g ‘And so you want the stuff—the darned y stuff, he called it, uncle—down, do ee, my dear?’ I replied that it certainly i- would please me very much, and you d and everybody else as well. ‘Don’t say s another word,’ he exclaimed, ‘every bit of it shall be off my farm before nlght d fall. I only wish you had got some o thing harder to ask me.’ s “There, uncle.” wound up Gladys, e “that’s how it was done, as the con jurers say. Now, tell me what you f think of my talents as a diplomatist, f and, above all, your opinion of my dear s old friend, John Wilder.” “My dear,” replied the squire, kissing e his niece, “I think you ought to be a I prime minister at least, and as for your t friend John Wilder; my opinion of him - is,altop'ether altered. We’ll both of us ride over and see him again this very a afternoon, and I'll thank him myself.” s “And now,” said her uncle, rubbing his hands, “which is it to be, Gladys, a :, new hunter or a diamond bracelet?”-* - Chicago Chronicle. 7 HOW COOLEY WORKED. t Former Chief Justice of Michigan t Tells of His Famous Colleague. g Judge John W. McGrath, who retired j from the Chief Justiceship of the • t Michigan Supreme Court at the close of 1895, w r as seen by a correspondent e and asked as to his belief in the cause 3 of the physical and mental breakdown 3 of ex-Justice Thomas M. Cooley, who e is now in a private retreat at Flint. He was also asked if, in his opinion, . jurists were particularly prone to col- Y lapse of that description. e Judge McGrath is a big man. His _ figure of more -than six feet is as expect 5 as In his young manhood, but snowy > white hair and beard tell the work of a Father Time. He is strong and vigor >> ous himself, and while laughingly de daring that his work had left him .j without a scar, said: “Boor Cooley; he is a victim of his own tremendous energy, without the physical strength to bear up und«#.‘ it. ? As a matter of fact, I doubt if any e man could have stood it. While his e work on the bench had something to do • with his final breakdown, for it always 3 was and always will be most arduous work, his labors off the bench were r alone more than most men care to un t dertake. e “His works on constitutional law, on - torts, his many magazine articles and - the preparation of ‘Cooley’s Black . stone’ were all completed while he was 1 engaged on work that would have eom -7 pletely filled most men’s time. “I believe he worked eighteen hours ■ a day. I know that while on the bench ! he not only was the first one to arise in 1 his own home so as to work before 7 breakfast, but that his work table was s placed in his sitting-room so that he r could continue the grind evenings, and at the same time partially enjoy the - company of his family and friends. - He would turn sometimes to join in 8 their conversation, only to bury him -3 self a moment later In his writing. “While I believe the life span of 7 jurists is probably as long as is that of any other profession similarly de -2 prived of exercise and fresh air, I do t think that for many yeai-s there has not been an occupant of the Michigan a bench who has retired without the , work having left its mark. This is ow -1 ing largely to the fact that they have r strained every nerve to keep their , docket clear. ‘This example was set by that great 7 four, Cooley, Christiancy, Campbell a and Graves. Christiancy and Campbell 2 are dead, and Cooley’s mind has failed, but Graves is a hale and hearty old 7 gentleman living in Detroit. In Ohio . and many other States the business of i the State bench is behind two, three 1 or more years, while here every case is t heard when ready, no matter how great 1 the strain, and opinions ai'e also rush -1 ed out on the same schedule. “As to Judge Cooley, I never knew a » man of such Intense mental activity, - ami Ids breakdown came solely as the x result of overwork. He was always a ; man of spotless reputation and most correct habits, and no other cause can 1 possibly be assigned. His work on the Interstate Commerce Commission, his 2 last sustained effort, was, in my op in* i ion, simply the last wrench.” | Not in It. Mrs. Callipers—“Are you going to in vite Mrs. Fowler to your party. She t seems to be such a pleasant little per i son.” i Mrs. Justup— “Goodness, no! She’s > pleasant enough and all that, but I un derstand that her husband only gets a i hundred dollars a month!”—Cleveland Leader. 1 a Definition. “What is money?” asked the philo ’ sopliical boarder, musingly. “Money,” replied the cynical boarder; “is what your rich relatives don’t j leave you.”—Puck. ■ I We believe that we would likfc Jelly . better if newspaper accounts of acci dents didn’t use the expression. “Onwh ! ed to jelly.”