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«(SN 1
-U‘Ak-(z ‘l'
- --u u . 1 '

 

 

 

E EEEEWER

 

 

 

PITIFUL POVERTY.

BY A. W. BELLAW.

 

 

I never before knew how poor one can get;
My poverty here. let me hasten to prove
Since on me the postmark of poverty‘s set—
I haven’t got two or three women to love!

A dark moon was shining the night I was born,
And a cold frowning heaven aoove me was bent,

And all these ill omens have rollowed forlorn—-
I’m clear out Of funds When I haven’t a cent!

I envy the rich who have plenty to spare,
For life unto them is both pleasant and sweet,
And the. richest and plentiest of clothes they can
wear—
I have only got one pair of boots on my fest!

The rich man reclines upon cushions of down,
And his head, like his heart, can be nothing but
light-
He can sleep or can wake, for the whim is his own—
But I can‘t hire a man to sleep for me at night!

Yes, I envy the rich who go gayly down-streeta
I envy their horses: how proudly they stalk!
And their riders would ne'er touch the ground with
their feet—
When I go for a stroll, why, then, 1 have to walk!

)Iy appetite’s good, which is surely a boon.

And I go down the street smellingviauds sublime;
Mv nOVerty wakes with the savor: Of noon.

For I only can eat just one meal at a time!

I cannot see how one much poorer can be:
And I sigh. and it. almost comes out in a moan;
How I wishl was like the rich nabobs I see!
lint l‘m not worth a cent more than just what I
own.

Yes, yes. I am poor, and my prospects are black,
And I’m sorry to say I have got but one life—
Yea, so poor that i haven‘t a hat to my back—
So poor that wneu wedded I‘ll have but one Wife!

 

Pen PictliEas of the Far West.

SAVED BY HIS HORSE.

BY IRA HEGMUN.

 

 

 

COLONEL \VILLIAM VAUGHN, a native of
Parkersburg, in the Old Dominion (now West
Virginia), was a resident of the Upper Missouri
country some years before the discovery of
gold in that region. He went thither as a Gov-
ernment Indian Agent (under Pierce, I think).
and located on the Medicine Bow—in late years
better known as the Sun River—a western
tributary of the Upper Missouri, the mouth of
which is twenty~five or thirty miles above Fort
Benton.

When the colonel first settled there—and it
proved to be a settlement, as the term is his-
torically understood, for he remained years
after ceasing to be an Indian Agent, and finally
gave 11) the ghost in the Sun River Valley——
probably there were not to exceed a score of
white men in all the country now embraced in
the Territories of Montana and Idaho.

Colonel Vaughn was possessed of the cour—
tesy and hospitality which characterizes the
true Virginia gentleman, was a man of genial
and communicative nature, and it was a genu-
ine pleasure to him to entertain visitors at his
mountain ranch with stories of his adventures
and experiences before the great influx of gold-
hunters. I have spent manya pleasant hour
listening to these recitals.

He was the first Government Agent among
the Upper Missouri Indians; and in making his
first report to the Interior Department he felt
it his duty to mankind at large, as well as to
the national authorities. to tell all about the
natural conditions of the wild country that was
the field of his Official labors. But in doing this
he proved himself a false prophet — made the
same mistake that old Major Bridger had made
in giving his 0 inion as to the adaptability of
the basin of S9. t Lake to agricultural develop-
ment. When told that “ the followers of Joseph
Smith " were moving in a body to locate in the
Salt Lake country, Major Bridger—who had
hunted there and traded With the Indians years
before the settlement of the Mormons—said he
would “give a thousand dollars for the first
grain of wheat or corn raised within five hun-
dred miles of Salt Lake.” But that is now one
of the most fruitful parts Of the world.

Colonel Vaughn’s first report was very volu-
minous. He spoke approvingly of everything
be supposed could be conscientiously approved.
The valleys, he said, were lovely beyond com-
pare; the mountains grand and sublime; the
river majestic; the forests would pr0ve a source
of great wealth in the future—by floating logs
down where the lumber would be needed. But
as Major Bridger thought of the Salt Lake
countr , he thought of the nger Missouri val-
leys—t at they never could e cultivated and
made subservient to the purposes of civilization.

When I last visited the Old veteran—being in
the winter season-41hr granaries were filled
with the products of his Own broad acres, and
among his cattle were thoroughbred Durhams,
among his horses pure-blooded Morgans. He
felt proud of his possessions—not as reckoned in
dollars and cents, but as attesting his sagacity
and enterprise.

“ I have land that will yield a hundred bushels
Of wheat to the acre,” he would boastingly say,
“and ranges that will fatten stock like oats all
through the winter.”

” But, colonel,” I once said to him, when he
was bragging about his big grain crops and
blooded live-stock, ” who was it used this lan—
guage, in an Official report from the U per Mis-
souri to the Interior Department: ‘ J! 13 a land
of many natural attractions ,' but it will re-
main undisturbed by the hand of civilization
forever?” .

“ Now,” quickly and evasively cried the
colonel, “ don’t say anything more about that,
and I will tell you a story about the early times
—how m horse once saved my life—saved me
from dyingahorrible death. Do you know I
believe a horse has a soul? I have never doubt-
ed it since that time I am going to tell you
about.

“Fill up your pipe again,” he said, as he
tossed the tobacco—pouch over to my side of the
table.

“Now, John, draw the coals forward and
roll in another dry cottonwood log. It’s grow-
ing colder; but it’s not as Cold yet as the time I
am goin to tell you about.”

The co onel’s story is worth prlntiug, if for
no other purpOSe than to show the remarkable
sagacity of the hOrse—the noblest and most use-
ful of our domestic animals.

The distance from the Indian Agency he had
charge of on Sun River to Fort Benton was
about thirty-five miles — a good day’s ride on
horseback in the short days of winter, when the
roads are not in good condition; and they sel-
dom are in good condition at that season.

There was a trading—post at Fort Benton.
with the proprietor of which the colonel had
important business to transact, that demanded
immediate attention. So he ordered his horse
saddled for the trip.

There was a wagon-road between the Agency
and Fort Benton, constructed for the transpor~
tation of Indian annuity goods; but as its course
was somewhat circuitous, and there was a di-
rect trail between the two points, he concluded
to 0 by way of the trail.

he route was over a wilderness, and a most
dismal and forbidding one. From the alluvial
lands of the Sun River Valley to those of the
Missouri it is a cheerleSs sage-brush waste,
with little flowing water by the direct road;
though freighters have no difficulty in finding
enough bunch—grass on nearly all the blufi’s for
their animals.

It is a rugged country all around the head of
the Missouri—go Where you will, you must, if
you travel any distance, cross great bills, if not
elevations of mountain proportions. A horse-
back ride over those bleak ridges and bluffs. in
the most favorable winter weather, is anything
but a pleasure-trip.

One famous landmark in that region has pe-
(‘uliarities which entitle it to special notice. It

observation, a distance Of from twenty-five to
forty miles-and yet it is, as its name implies, a
mighty monolith, one continuous mass of con-
crete rock, in which limestone predominates. It
stands in an isolated position, rismg up from
the surrounding table-lands like the heart or
core of a once great mountain, all of which
save it has crumbled away, through the rav-
ages of time, and leveled over the plains below;
and this is exactly what I think “Bird-tail
Rock” is. It is shaped like a cook’s comb, or an
expanded turkey-tail. it has that appearance
to a close as well as a distant view ; and in mag-
nitude it is the most deceiving natural Object I
eVor saw. At a distance of twenty miles it
does not seem to be more than an hour’s walk
away; and until the traveler reaches its ver
base he feels assured that he could walk al
around it in a few minutes—that it covers but
a few acres of ground—but It is at least two
miles in circumference. Towering up at reg-
ular intervals along its semi-circular summit
are great pillars and spires, which present
themselves to the view, looking up at them
from the plains below, like gigantic feathers.
They are not fluted into that shape, but are dis-
tinct and detached, so the observer has a clear
view between them and beyond. These won-
derful pinnacles, with their jutting platforms,
and the cavernous recesses immediately below
them, were thronged with mountain sheep when
I was there in the summer of 1867. They looked
down upon me—though the wildest of the Wild
animals—with a sort of contemptuous lDdIIIel‘~
once, as if they knew their weird haunts were
inaccessible to human kind.

Colonel Vaughn started at daylight, without
an attendant. He rode a young horse famous
for speed and bottom among the Indians at the
Agency, and reached his destination, as be ex-
pected to do, early in the afternoon.

it was the latter part of February, there was
little snow on the ground, and the streams were
all frozen solid: and, there being a blacksmith
at the Agency—every Indian Agency has a
blacksmith shop—the colonel had his horse
rough-shod for the trip.

He skipped over the ground at so lively a gait
in going to Fort Benton, that he thought it
would be unnecessary to make as early 3. start
in returning.

Having transacted his business the day of his
arrival, and matters at the Agency requiring
his constant rsonal attention, he concluded to
go right bac the next day. But there was a
marked change in the weather conditions during
the night. The day before the skies were clear
with a calm and cold atmosphere: and now, the
temperature was several degrees higher, clouds
were gathering, and the winds were rising.

He was urged to remain at Fort Benton until
“ the weather took a turn. one way or another ;”
but he said he had the best horse in the moun-
tains, and was not afraid of any storms catch-
ing him when he was on that horse’s back. and
no further away from home than Sun River
A ency.

e started about nine o’clock in the morning,
when soft winds were sweeping the dry grasses
over the prairies, and the sun was shut out by
gathering storm—clouds.

He had cantered along but a short distance
when light flakes of snow began to sift down—
fine and scattered flakes—Often the precursors in
the mountains of a heavy fall.

Colonel Vaughn was absorbed in thought
about business matters, and did not heed the
unfavorable prognostics of the skies. Had this
not been the case, he probably would have loped
back to Fort Benton and awaited a settled con-
dition of the weather.

Gradually the fall of snow increased, the
feathery flakes coming down “thicker and
faster;" but on he went, the wind to his back
and beating against his heavy buffalo overcoat,
with no other effect than to accelerate his pro-

ress.

g He only awakened to a realization of the di-
lemma he was getting into when his horse tried
to resist the nidance of the bit and take his
own course. hen the colonel dismissed thoughts
of business and took a view of the situation.
The trail was now completely covered—before
him was a pathless expanse of rapidly-accumu-
lating snow. He turned his horse around, and
realized the appalling fact that a “ blizzard "—
the winter terror of the prairies and the moun-
tain valleys—was coming on. His horse’s tracks
were obliterated by the drifting and falling
snow—he was in the midst of a trackless wil-
derness.

He rode back a short distance in the face of
the fierce blasts, debating in his mind whether
he should try to get back to Fort Benton, or go
ahead to Sun River.

The cutting winds, and the reluctance of his
horse to travel against them, decided him to
take the latter course, and he again turned,
when the noble animal moved off briskly with-
out the urging of the spur. But the intelli-
gent horse and the bewildered colonel continued
to disagree as to what was the exact course to
take—the former persisting in picking his own
way and constantly irritated by the Opposing
chec 's and side jerks of his rider. Of course
but little advance was made under these circum-
stances.

The snow continued to fall and to be fiercely
furrowed through and drifted by the winds.
Even had he been going in a direct course—of
which he was by no means certain—the colonel
knew he could not be over half—way to the
Agency, and the shades of night were coming
on. The descending flakes were met by those
borne upward from the earth by the fierce blasts
that were sweeping over the prairies, and
through the clouds of blinding snow it was im-
possible to trace the distant mountain lines.

With nothing to obstruct the vision, Colonel
Vaughn might have been uided by landmarks
to the banks of the Sun iver; but, to use his
Own words, he was so blinded by the snow that
he “could scarcely see his horse‘s ears.” The
situation was desperate in the extreme.

Fortunate it was that his feet were incased in
thick woolen stockings, in close-fitting buckskin
moccasins and in heavy buffalo overshoes—that
he had on a heavy robe overcoat and a beaver-
skin muffler around his ears. Without being
thus warmly clad he must have erished.

At last the storm-clouds ro led away from
the skies; but the winds continued, the cold
grew more intense; and darkness was gather—
ing and making more dismal the general proa-
pect. Through the shimmering, wind-tossed
crystals the stars were but dimly seen—their
light was shut out by the clouds of snow that
filled the air.

“Some way I felt," said Colonel Vaughn,
“ that the only hope of life was to trust to my
horse. I could do nothing for myself. I was
lost, without any definite theory as to the best
course to take to save myself. I noticed the
horse would always increase his gait when given
his own course, as if he knew where I was,
where I wanted to go, and how best to reach
my destination: so I just threw the bridlareins
over the horn of the saddle, and said aloud, as
if talking to a rational being—as I u-as-A‘ GO
as ou lease, Dick.’ _

‘ As I) reached this conclusion I seemed to be
inspired by new hope. As I took my feet out
of the big wooden stirrups and stretched my
legs, to stimulate the circulation of the blood,
and clapped my gloved hands together for the
same purpose, I felt that I would get through
all right. Throwing all my reliance on my
horse made me feel confident that I would be
saved.

“The horse seemed to understand my
thoughts, and sym thize with them; and I
candidly believe he id. He had swung his head
around protestingly against my guidance for

the last time; he was now his Own master. He
moved off in the fastest kind of a walk, occa—
sionally, when the character of the ground
would permit, breaking into a spirited trot.

“ There were times that I would have Sworn
he was going right away from the Agency, and
I could scarcely resist the temptation of seizing
the reins and turning him; but I desisted—for—
tunately for me, as the sequel will show—and
allowed him to continue to take his own course.

 

is called “Bird—tail Rock.” It may be seen
through the clear pure air, from any point of .

“ The horse had probably traveled three hours

in this way—not less than that—when I noticed
that something unusual was stimulating him—
he broke into a fast trot. The wind was still
blowing, the air still filled with snow crystals;
and l was stiffened with cold. I do not think it
would have been possible for me to hold out un-
til da light.

“ ow the fumes of green cottonwood, burn-
ing, filled m nostrils, and a thrill of joy pos-
sessed me. knew it would be impossible for
green cottonwood, or any other kind of wood,
to retain fire in the open air such a night as
that. Then my horse stopped—stopped sudden-
ly, while trotting—and thv owad his head around
and tip ed with his nose the end of one of mv
shoes. rue, every word of it. He wouldn’t
budge an inch further. I dismounted, and found
he was standing right at the fence inclosing the
Agency buildings.

“And now,” said the colonel, [“ fill your pipe
again,] don’t you think I have a good reason for
believing horses have souls?”

 

His Revenge.
A TRAGEDY 0P TEN-STRIKE.

BY WILLIAM G. PATTEN.

 

 

THE skulking figure paused a moment in the
shadow of a cabin. Something bright was
gripped fast in one hand.

“Curse him!” gritted a hoarse voice, full of
fiercest rancor. “ I have found him at last, and
to—night he shall taste my revenge. Ha! ha!
Long have I searched for him, and now he is
mine—mine! My knife shall drink his blood,
and in his dying moments I will tell him who I
am! Ah-a! what a sweet revenge!”

The hoarse voice was still for a moment, and
nothing could be heard but the faint moaning of
the wind and the deep breathing of the murder-
ous-minded man. Finally he went on again:

“ He will pass this way; I will follow and
drive this knife into his back! Little did he
think when be accused me of being a horse-thief
and gave me up to the Vigilantes that he was
signing his death-warrant. He thought I would
be hanged, and but for my fortunate escape,
the rope would have ended my existence for-
ever. But I did escape, and 1 am here for re-
venge! Ha! What is that? He is coming!”

A step sounded near at hand. The man be-
side the cabin drew closer to the wall and his
fingers closed with a fiercer grip on the handle
of the knife.

Then another man passed the cabin, and,
humming a familiar tune, walked on into the
darkness, unconscious that he was followed.

“ It is he!” ran through the mind of the would-
be assassin. “ I know his figure well. I will
follow till he gets beyond the thickest of the
cabins, than I will do In work. Fred Nason’s
life ends to—nighti— a! What does that
mean?”

The man whom he was following had paused
a moment to gaze in at a cabin window. An
exclamation of amazement had broken from his
lips, and then he hastened to the door, flung it
open and entered.

A curse of dismay came from the lips of the
would-be assassin.

“ What did he go in there for?" he boarsely
breathed. “ Have I lost him for tonight? No,
by heavens, no! I will find a way to get at
him: but I must look in at that window.”

When he did so he saw a strange sight. A
man and a woman—scarcely more than a girl—
wore facing each other, and something in their
faces caused the unseen witness to come near
uttering an exclamation. The next moment he
did asp out a name and fall back a step.

“ val Gods! it cannot be!”

Then be bent forward and listened eagerly.
The man was speakin .

“ Miss Darcy—Iva, ’ he said, with evident
emotion, “ can it be really you?”

For a moment the woman seemed on the
point of replying; then she swayed and would
have fallen had not the man caught her in his
arms and assisted her to a rude chair.

“ Mr. Nason!” she gasped; “ how came you
here?”

He had drawn back, and stood with folded
arms regarding her with a look of mingled
emotions.

“ Chance led me here,” he replied, a trifle
bitterly. “ I little thought of meeting you.”

She felt the reproach in his voice, and put out
her hand in a Inute appeal.

“ Don’t, Fred!” she entreated, after several
moments’ silence.

He shrunk back 3 etc , as if something in her
words hurt him. Fina l he asked:

“ How came you here, va?”

She started up with sudden fierceness, her
hands clinched and her eyes flashing.

“ I came on the trail of vengeance!” she
cried. “ I have followed the dastardly wretch
Leo Carman, into this wild land, and when i
find him he shall die! He deserted me in Chi—
cago, and Icame near perishing from hun er.
My baby—his child.’——died in my arms. e is
as much its murderer as if he had struck it dead
With his own hand! But he discovered that I
was on his trail, and has managed to elude me.
I have failed to find him.”

The man’s bosom rose and fell beneath his
folded arms. In the de ths of his blue eyes was
a look of tenderness an pity.

“ Iva,” he said, softly, “ we were lovers once
long ago. I was poor and went away to seek
m fortune. You had promised to be my wife.

hile I was gone. Leo Carmen—the snake!—
came and won your love. You ran away with
him against your father’s command, and from
the time we parted before that tilla few mo-
mentswago I have not looked on your face. Iva,

ou— '

She held out her hands, crying:

“ Oh, Fred, Fred! don’t curse me!”

“ I have no thought of cursing you,” he as-
sured. But. I do curse the villain who won you!
From this time I will aid you in your search for
him. If I only knew his face!”

In a moment she snatched a portrait from her
bosom and held it before his eyes.

“ See!” she cried; “ that is his likeness!”

The man gazed at it for a fiew moments and
then a low cry broke from his lips.

“ You recognize it!” she exclaimed. “ You
have seen him 1”

He bowed.

“ I think so. Iva, I may be able to lead you
to him soon."

Then for a short time he s oke to her rapidly
and in so low a tone that the eavesdro r by
the window could not catch a word. many,
with a word at parting, he turned and left the
cabin. As he strode away toward the thicker
part of the camp, the witness to the strange
meeting heard him mutter:

“ Leo Carman is in Ten-Strike! I have prom-
ised to lead her to him soon, but he shall be dead
when she aces him!”

Once more the man with the knife skulked
along in the tracks of the unsuspecting man, but
still the gleaming blade was not stained by hu-
man blood.

Strai ht to the leading saloon of Ten-Strike
the trailer followed Fred Nason. The young
man entered the place and Soon discovered the
one whom he sought. He was a dark-faced,
mustacth gambler, who was busily engaged in
plucking a callow young tenderfoot. Nason
approached the table and said, addreming the
youth:

“ Do you know, air, that you are playing with
a notorious card-sharp, a professional gambler
and a cheat?"

Before the astonished young man could reply,
the gémbler sprung to his feet, livid with fury.

“ ' hat do you mean. sir?” he hissed.

“I mean just what I say, Leo Carman i”

“ Leo Cup-morn f” gasped the amazed and
startled rascal. “ IV by do you call me that?
Who are you?”

“ I am Fred Nason,” was the reply, “ and I am
here to avenge poor Iva Raydon. Draw and
defend yourself, for I shall shoot to kill!”

 

Quick as thought, the gambler sprung back a

 

few steps, drawing a revolver as he did so. A
weapon also glistened in Fred Nason’s hands,
but he was not so swift as the card-shat . The
gambler’s revolver spoke and N sson won d have
fallen dead had not a man who held a knife
gripped in the fingers of his right hand sprung
in front of him. The man with the knife went
down, the gambler’s bullet in his breast! Then
Fred Nsson’s revolver sp.ke and Leo Carman
fell to the floor without a groan.

A moment later Nason was kneeling beside
the man who had Saved his iife by sacrificing his
Own.

“ Tony the Lifter!" he cried, in amazement.

The dying man opened his eyes and smiled
faintly.

f‘ Yes, I am Tony the Lifter,” he said in a low
tone. “I lifted a horse once and your evidence
would have hanged me if I had not escaped the
Vigilantes. I swore to have your life, andl
should have kept my oath had I not overheard
your talk with va to-night. She is—my sister.
I have not seen or heard—from her since—since
father turned me out of doors—seven years ago.
You were her lover, and you swore to have the
life of the man who wronged and deserted her.
That saved—your life. This is my revenge l”

Ten minutes later he was dead.

It was found that Leo Carman was also dead,
and not a few were glad of it, for he was known
in Ten-Strike as a very bad man. His slayer
was not molested.

Iva Raydon shed bitter tears over the body
of her wayward brother, but she never knew
how near he came to killing her true-
hearted lover. She only waited to see her
brother buried, then she left Ten-Strike for-
ever. Fred Nason disappeared at the same
time, and the citizens of the little mining-
camp never knew the true story back of the
tragedy.

 

Deep Sea Yarns.

BY LIEUT. HARRY DENNIES PERRY, U. S. N.

THE MYSTBRIOUS PILOT.

[SPUN BY THE PILOT.]

 

 

” I HAS seen many mysteries in my time, ship-
mates, and many strange Sights: but when you
comes to sift ’em down, there is a cause why, if
you has the patience to figger ’em out; yet one

ittle. matter I has never been able to get to the
bottom of.”

“ What is that, pilot?” queried a middy, as
with a party of his messmates seated upon the
deck of an old-style ship-of-the—line, they had
gathered around the old weather—beaten pilot,
who had come on board for a month, while the
vessel was cruising along the Gulf shores, for
war was threatening between the United States
and Mexico.

“ Yes, pilot, spin us the yarn !” cried an-
other.

And in anticipation of a thrilling metals, the
group of youngsters gathered more cl ly
around the pilot, who, shifting his quid of to -
co to his starboard cheek, continued:

“ The mystery I hasn’t been able to solve hap-
pened now thirty-odd year ago, when I were a
cabin-boy on as trim a schooner as ever floated,
and was under the command 0’ the present cap-
tain 0’ this very frigate, though he then were
but a boy in years, bein’ only twenty, or there-
about— Lordy, there the captain comes out o’
the cabin now, so I’d better come to anchor with
my yarn.”

And the pilot glanced toward a hands )mc
man of fifty, dressed in a stylish uniform, and
who cast his eyes over the sea, and than land-
ward, as though wholly unconscious of the group
of middies assembled around the pilot.

“ 0!)! spin the am, pilot, for, the captain
won’t hear it,” sai an impatient youngster.

“ He’s a little deaf, anyway," said another,
with a wink from his weather-eye at his com-
rades.

“ Waal, I might as well, then, seein’ as how
he’s deaf.

“You see, we were sent to cruise the coast
down from Baltimore to Key Largo on the F10-
rida Coast, and then head for the Bahamas, back
in among the Pine Islands and Tortugas, and
then round the Gulf Coast as far as the Rio Gran-
de, all in search of pirates, who were real terrors
in those days, especially several as were leagued
together.

‘ Our schooner was a beauty, I can tell you,
a witch for sailing, carried nine guns and seven—
ty men, and of her captain, who was then a
second luff, I needn’t speak, as you knows him,
I’m thinkin’, for he’sa man that don’t keep back
in the dark when either friend or foe needs his

comp’ny.

" Veil, we broke up a gang of Wreckers on
the Florida Keys, sunk a smuggler of! Key
West, snatched a freebooter proa out of a la—
goon, chased a pirate schooner away from his
prize, and— Are you so durned sart’in ther
capt’in is deaf, shipmates?"

And the pilot lowered his voice, as the fri-
gate’s commander drew a step nearer and leaned
over the bulwarks, apparently lost in his own
thoughts.

“ Deaf! I’d say so; why, he ordered the gun-
ner to fire the Long Tom the other day, just
after it had exploded, not having heard it,” an-
swered a mischievous middy.

“ He didn’t net to be deaf.”

“ Old age, you know, pilot; but go on with
your yarn.”

“ Waal, we caught on the prize a young pirate
who had gone down into the hold, and got left
On board when his craft had tofly, and he swore
he’d betray his shipmates if the captain would
spare his life, and hinted that there was a big
t ing on hand for a man who had the nerve to
carry it out.

“ Now, our boy captain, as we ust to call the
luff, was jist that sort of a person, and he fol-
lowed the advice of the young pirate, and ran
in among the islands and lagoons that are to be
found On the coast on each side of the Delta of
the Mississippi River, and one night dro pod
anchor in a secluded inlet, where one wou dn’t
think a vessel could go.

“ Then the lieutenant called a boat alongside
with two oarsmen in it and the pirate, and get-
ting in himself they rowed away in the dark-
ness.

“ The boat was gone about two hours and then
returned; but the pirate wasn’t in it, for he had
suddenly run on a sand-bar and then jumped
overboard and sunk out of sight.

“ The lieutenant waited some time to see him
rise, intending to put a bullet in his head, but
they couldn’t discover him, and the men got the
boat off the sand-bank and started back for the
schooner.”

“I suppose the captain, or, as he was then,
lieutenant, was slightly annoyed,” said a middy,
innocently.

“ Slightly annoyed, youngster? Why, we
thought ther schooner was going to be run by
steam for a leetle while, and you bet the crew
laid low.

“ I was a cabin-boy, as I said, and I never seen
any one so mad as was the lieutenant, especially
when the next day came and we could find no
way out of the inlet, for the tide, in one night,
seemed to have choked up the channel we run in

y.

“ All day we searched for an outlet, but
couldn’t find one, and there we was, an armed
schooner land-bound, and from the lieutenant to
the cook, I may say to myself, a-swearing hot,
until we had SWOI‘D through the whole calendar
of saints, and a. few 0’ the sainteases.

“ But it was no good, and night came on and
found us anchored in deep water, but not a
channel three feet deep to run out by.

“ Anybody hearing the sound of voices on the
schooner that night, as the men grouped togeth-
er, would have thought we were praying in
chorus; but we wasn’t; we was swearing; pres-
ently, right over the schooner‘s bow a poured a
form, and it was white, too, and we t ought it
was a host, until, in a deep voice, he said:

“ ‘ i en, I would see our captain, if this ves-
sel is commanded by oyt Grenville.’

“ ‘ This is the craft you is lookin’ for, stran-

 

ger, and the lieutenant Is aft on the uarter-
deck having a leetle damn all to himse f,’ said
the bo’scn.

“ And we all looked at the stranger, who was
a man of fine appearance, tall and broad-shoul-
dered, dressed in a white woolen shirt, white
duck pants, and a tarpaulin of the same
material; but the worst of all was, he wore
a black mask, black necktie and gloves also
black.

“ He walked aft as though he was an admiral,
and suddenly step (1 up to the lieutenant. and,
being cabin-boy, fewent, too, for I was a leetle
cur’us.

“ ‘ Well, sir, what means this masquerade?’
said the lieutenant, in a stern tone, believing it
to be one of the crew.

“ In a quiet tone the strange man said:

“ ‘I care not to show my face, sir, hence I
wear a mask, and I have come to save you and
your vessel.’

“ ‘ Ah! I see now that you are not one of my
own crew: but who are you?’

“ ‘ A pirate.”

“ Lads, you should have heard the way he said
those two words; they fairly made the lieuten-
ant jump; but before be con d speak, the stran-
ger continued: .

“ ‘A man whose life you saved led you into
this trap, and, escaping from you, he went to
the rendezvous of the Pirates’ League, and there
are nOW four hundred men coming in boats to
take our vessel)

" ‘ a! how know you this?’ asked Lieutenant
Grenville.

“ ‘ Did 1 not say I was a pirate?’

“ ‘ Oh, yes: and you say you have come to save
the schOoner’!’

“ ‘ Yes, and you.‘

t‘ L  g7

” ‘ It matters not why; I Will be your pilot
and run your vessel out to sea.’

” ‘ That is impossible.’

“ ‘ Not to me, and the sooner you get under
way the better: do you trust me?’

“ ‘ I can do nothing else.’

“ And the lieutenant ordered the anchor up
and sails set and the masked pirate took the
wheel, and, I can tell you, lads, he ran us
straight into the woods, as we thought, but there
was a channel throu b them just wide enough
for the schooner, an we forged ahead into deep
water, and in half an hour was free of the shoals
and bars.

“ ‘ N ow, Lieutenant Grenville, I will leave
you; good-night and a leasant voyage.’

“ This was all he said), and before the lieuten-
ant could regly he sprung overboard and struck
out for the s ore, distant about a mile, and that
is the last we saw of him, and it’s the mystery
I can’t solve in my life.”

“ Permit me to solve it, pilot; but first let me
say that 1 am glad to welcome in my pilot, the
cabin-boy who served me so well thirty years
ago; I did not recognize you before.”

And Captain Hoyt Grenville stepped forward
and rooted the pilot, who said, earnestly:

“ hose mischievous youngsters told me you
was deaf.”

“ Not a bit of it; they didn’t wish m presence
to stop your yarn, the mystery of w ich I will
solve by saying that the mysterious pilot was
the chief of the pirate league, and in boyhood
1w: had been friends, and twice I had saved his

0.

“ You know how he returned the favor that
night, and once after, in Vera. Cruz, he saved
me from an assassin’s knife, and than I learned
that be it was who had'been my pilot.

“ Poor fellow, he led a wild life as a youth,
turned to piracy, and some years ago fell on his
outlaw deck in an engagement with a Spanish
cruiser.

“ Come into my cabin, pilot, and you, too,
young gentlemen, and we will drink tothe health
of my cabin-boy of thirty years ago.”

 

Telephone Echoes.

 

A LONG tramp—the six-foot beggar.

MOTHER HUBBARD cook-books are said to be
proof against small wastes.

A ROBBERY by a colored burglar is a sort of
Black Crook performance.

“ I WILL toss coppers with you,” remarked one
steer to another as they made for a couple of
policemen.

MISTAKES are not the onl things that people
unhappin married make—t ey make old bach-
elors and old maids.

A MAN knows all about the “ all gone ” feeling
the patent medicine advertisements speak of
just after he has lost all his money at poker.

SMARTE—“ Hello, Sharppe! How’s Christian
Science gittin’ along?” Sharppe—“Oh, I’ve
give up Christian Science an’ gone back to plain

unco.”

A LABOREB in an ice-house down East was
killed by a large lump of ice falling on his

erdict of the jury: “Died of hard

A NICE little Sundzy-school girl of Quincey,
Mass, the other day fined a missionary as a
man who “ comes around to get our money every
chance he gets.”

EvnN the toothache exhibits the softening in-
fluence of civilization. In the olden time the
only remedy was a knock-out, but n0wadays it
generally results in a draw.

“TIMES are hard,” remarked Noah, as he
gazed from the starboard side of the Ark into
the extemporized sea. " Even the water comes
high, but we must have it.”

“I FEEL sick at heart,” said the rejected
lover, as he leaned upon the rail of the steamer.
“I’m with you,” remarked a fellow-passenger,
“ only mine 13 further down."

“ A DERBY,” said the batter, to a customer,
“is a cross between a felt and a plug.” And
when the hat got out of shape in the very
first rain, he felt cross enough to plug the hat-
ter.

MRS. O’TOOLE—“ Oh, Bridget Mulligan, isn’t
it awful? Mr. McGinty has committed suicide!”
Mrs. Mulligan (making an effort to appear
horrified)—"Awful indade! An’ who was it
wid?”

A MELODRAMA called “ The Red Spider ” has
been brought out in New York. “The Rei

Spider ” must be what a slangy youth would call -

a “fly” play, and it ought to feel at home
among the “ flies.”

A NEW material for tea-gowns is striped in
imitation Of rattlesnake skins, and slippers of
the real skins are ito be worn with the owns.
A Boston man swore off the day after his wife
wore one for the first time.

“NOW, children,” said the visitor, creasing
his face into the Sundayvschool smile, suu- baked
and kiln—dried, “wh do you think I am a
Christian?” Young eedless, in back seat-—
“ ’Cause we don’t know you i”

“TOMMY,” said the teacher, sternly, “your
writing is wretched; it is nothing but a scrawl.”
“Well, what’s the use 0’ learnin’ to write at
all,” asked Tommy, “when they are Inventin’
writin’-machines a most every day?”

“Manna,” said Tommy one day, after his
mother had given away some of Tommy’s worn
clothing, “ ’m awful glad that there’s poor
folks in the world. If there wasn’t, I suppose I
would have to wear them clothes another year.”

THE Rev. Dr. Talmage says: “ There is no
happiness in this world for an idle woman." Mr.
Talmage 1 should reserve his sympathy for the
overworked woman. The idle woman can de-
rive considerable pleasure from a twenty-five
cent novel and a $5 poodle dog.

SOME New SONGS—“I Must Leave Thee,
Annie Darling,” by the author of “ Papa’s
Footsteps,” “ The Telegraph Lineman,” by the
author of “You’ll Be an Angel By and By,”
“ All on Account of the Guv’nor,” by theauthor
'of “ When Sullivan’s Colors are Down,” “ De
Cullud Folks Next Door,” by the author of
“ The Lost Chord,” “ The Truck Driver,” by the
author of “ Listen to my Tale of \Vhoa.”