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“Avast there, mutineer hounds, and hunt your kennels, or I’ll fire!”

OCEAN GUERRILLAS;

 

 

on,

THE PLANTER

MIDSHIPMAN.

A Romance of Southern Shores and Waters in the Eighteenth Century.

BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM,

AUTHOR or “MERLE, THE MUTINEER,” “MONTEZUMA, TIIE MERCILESS,” ETC., ETC.

CHAPTER X.
Anni F‘T.

" t‘omcl for the love of (End! we will be torn to
pieces if we remain here-- hark I" .

Such were the words that broke from the lips‘ot’
the young inidshipman, as he dashed into the ravme
where lay the Sniugglei' (gut-en, asleep.

Ills words Were startling enough, and she awoke
in alarm, to suddenly hear shriek after shriek filling,r
the air.

There were heard voices then, human, brute and
bird commingling, for wild cries in the tones of de-
spairing men joined in wit h the deep growls and
savage velp, of bounds. while. the hoot of an ow and
startled notes of a sca~hawk added to the fearful
chorus.

in spite of her nerve. the Sum: rlcr Queen was al-
most paralyzed with terror, and uttering no remon—
strain-e she was led swiftly along by the youth.

“Where are you going?“ she gasped, as they sped
along the sandy shore. .

“ Anywhere, so that we can place distance be-
tween us and what I saw back yonder.”

“And what did you sect" .

“Do not ask me, but bark to yonder cries!”

“ They are the despairing cries of inch, mingling
with the haying of bounds and shrieks of night-
birds. ” ' ‘

“Oh, what does it mean? said the bniuggler

iieen. ‘ ,

Q“lt means that this is indeed the. Witches Isle—
Hal see, a boat! a boat 1“ ' _

They had suddenly come upon a little cove, or in-
let, narrow and deep. penetrating the island, and
there before them was moored a boat. _ .

It was painted white, not large, but of a biuld'that
showed it to be a surf-skiff. and the. youth quickly
aided the woman into it, and sprung in atter her.

But not an instant too scon, for as be grasped the

ars and shot away froui the shore. two greenish
lghts were seen coming like wind along the beach,
directly for the spot which they bad Just left.

“ They are bloodhounds, and they carry those
green lights about their necks," said Irvmg, and be
bent to his oars with vigor.

Watching the bounds they saw them halt at the
Water's edge, and then give vent to long, deep howls

I of disappointment. and rage.

 

The shricks and howls back in the ravine had now
ceased. and only the haying of the two hounds
could be heard, mingling with the roar of the surf.

Down the inlet the youth urged the skifi‘, which
began to tOS< upon the waves as it neared the sea,
and for some time no word was spoken; but the
woman broke the silence with:

"What does all this mean 2'”

“ Heaven only knoWs.”

“ Do you intend to remain on the island it”

“Not for the world."

“ Where will you go?”

“ Out into the Gulf.“

“ In this boat?“ . '

“ Yes, for it is a surf-skiff and Will live.”

“I am so glad to hear you say so, for I would not.
put foot on that island for worlds,” earnestly said
the Sinuggler Queen. . .

"Nor I, for I saw enough to feel that it is indeed
the haunt. of witches, if not of devils, and I tlcdhack
to you, not knowing where we could go, or what to
do w escape.

“But we are safe 11‘“ '.” I ‘

" With yonder surf before us?" and the Smuggler-
Queen pointed to the walls ot foam betore them:

“Yes, it is safer in yonder Wild seas than behind
us,” was the significant repay, and the niidshipman
headed the skiff directly for the wild breakers.

On and into them went the frail boat, tossed here,
tossed there, half-filled with water, and then emerg-
ing in safety into the sea beyond, which was rapidly
running down, for the. storm had Ccased and the
waves no longer sprung in angry fury toward the

sk '.

Bailing the boat out as best. they could, the youth
again took the oars and rowed hard and fast, as
though anxious to place as much space as pos51ble
between him and the island before dawn. .

Thus hours passed away, Irving Brandt keeping
up a steady stroke, and refusing to allow the woman
to relieve him at the oars.

At last the dawn appeared, and the woman was
asleep in the bottom of the skiff. worn out, human
nature having forced her to succumb. _ .

Casting his eyes around the horizon. Irvmg dis-
covered the island leagues away, and. even in the
increasing light of day, shuddured as his eyes fell
upon the spot where he had seen such a ghastly
spectacle.

The hulk of the vulture could not be seen, so he
knew that it had gone to pieces.

Then, turning his eyes in another direction, he
started as they fell upon a sail.

It was a trim-looking lugger, not very far distant,
and it carried a flag which he could not discern dis
tinctly, but it had a sable look in that dismalgray
light, and those were dangerous waters, and it
might be that the vessel was a pirate or a smug-
glcr.

If either, his sleeping companion would have

nothing to fear, while he would have everything to
dread, so he concluded neither to attract the atten-
tion of those on the vessel, or to awaken the wo-
man.
Unseen by the lookout on the luggcr, Irving deter-
mined to remain so if he could, and taking in his
oarg, he quietly slipped down in the bottom of the
ski .

The course of the vessel was bringing her nearer
and nearer, and as the sun rose out of the waters.
its rays revealed distinctly the flag—a black field i
with a huge red owl in the center.

“It is the very lugger that escaped caoture in the
Sea Owl‘s Nest, and Heaven grant the lookout does
not see us, or I am lost.” he murmured. and he
glanced anxiously toward the sleeping woman.

But as his gaze fell upon her she moved restless-
ly, then muttered something unintelligible, and then
her eyes opened.

She started as she saw him, and then, passing her
hand across her time once or twice, seemed to take
in the situation, and said \veai-ily:

" I have been asleep, while you have worked.“ ‘

"Yes: and sleep will do you good. so get all that 1
you can," and Irving dared not glance toward the 
lngger.

“ No, I will watch now while you sleep, for some
veSsel may come in sight."

“ I do not care to sleep,“ he said.

" Do you fearto trust me?“

“ How do 'ou mean?"

“ Do you t tink I would kill you in your sleep?"

“ Oh. no: I had not given it a thought; but et me
urge that you lie down again.”

“No;” and she sat- up and looked around her,
when her eyes fell upon the vessel now not more
than a mile away.

Instantly she sprung to her feet and cried:

" Ilo! there flies my own beautiful Sea Owl.

" Ho! the Sea Owl, ahoy I“ and her voice was sent
ringing over the waters.

Her form had now caught the eve of the lookout,
and the lugger’s sharp prow was at once. turned ‘
toward the skiff.

“ Now I am saved!” cried the Sniuggler Queen,
joyfully.

"Air! I am doomed!” responded the young mid-
shipman, in a voice that showed he knew his
danger.

 

CHAPTER XI.
TWO s'rnAxoi: PLEDGES.

THE little vessel that had been sighted by the mid-
shipinan and the Suiuggler Queen, and which gave
hope to the woman and despair to the youth, was
one of the trimmest built crafts of her class.

She had the clean look of a yacht and carried an
immense spread of canvas.

Built by a Spanish lion for his own pleasure. she
had bern cut. out of Pensacola harbor by the Queen

 

Sinuggler and given to her father as a carrier of
' I . l

 

smuggled booty, while, absent from the retreat at
the time of Irving Brandt’s attack upon it, she had
eScaped capture.

As the pretty vessel neared the skitf. there were
seen to be a number of men upon her decks. while
aft, near the helmsman, was a young man evidently
the commander.

He was looking at the occupants of the skiff
through a glass, and when near enough hailed:

" Ho the surf-boat 2"

The midsnipman did not reply, but glanced to-
ward the woman, who answered:

“ Ahoy the Sea Owl!”

A cheer broke from the crew of the bigger as the.
Woman’s voice reached their ears, and the young
offiCer shouted:

"Bravo, Lady Captain! you are welcome on board
the Sea Owl.”

Lutfing u sharp the bigger lay to, while her com
mander cal ed out:

L‘i‘Seize your oars, young man, and come along-
si e!

But Irving Brandt did not move, and Rita took the
oars and obeyed.

Over the side she went, and her hand was warmly
grasped by the smuggler captain, who then turned
to the midshipinan.

Instantly he started back, turning deadly pale, as
he cried:

“ Irving Brandt l“

"Yes,I am Irving Brandt, and you are Chester
Granger, who it seems has turned pirate,” was the
cool response -

“ Hood (iod! I would not have had you see me on
this deck for Worlds. that you could tell what I have
become.” and the smuggler spoke. with bitterness
and the deepest feeling.

"In. not trouble yourself, Mr. Granger, as that
young man will never live to say that he has seen
you on a smuggler deck.

“ He is a prisoner. and shall be put in irons," said
the Smuggler Queen, coldly.

“ A prisoner?" asked Chester Granger, while Irv-
ing Brandt simply smiled at the words of the woman.

"Yes, a prisoner. for though we were fellow-pas-
sengers on a vessel that was wrecked on Witches”
Isle last night. and he saved my life more than once.
still he is a prisoner, for be it was who attacked our
retreat and killed my father."

" He killed the Sea Owl?"

“Yes, before my eyes, and never will I forget it:
but put him in irons, for he is dOomed to die.” and

. the wicked look that came into theeyes of the. Smug-

gler Queen fairly appalled the outlaw lieutenant.

But he ordered the midshipman seized and ironed,
and then calling the Smuggler Queen into the cabin
asked:

" Lady Captain, what of your husband?"

" He lies in prison. condemned to die, and having
ordered you to Mobile to repair the vessel, I sailed
for that port to see you.”

" And lO\V can 1 Serve you. lady?"

“ My husband shall not die."

“ Not if he can be rescued, lady."

“ He shall be.”

" For your sake I hope so." was the low replv.

The woman seemed to read a hidden meaning in
the Words of her officer. and said:

“ )lr. Granger, for now I know such to be your
name, 1 have found you all that I could wiin as an
officer, and I need your aid, though it is perhaps
wrong to ask it.”

 

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‘— 10““

“ Why wrong. lady?”

“ Because I know that you and my husband were
once friends, and that you lay at his door what you
have become."

"True. all that I now am Barton Keys made me,”
was the bitter reply.

"I know that my husband lotted with you, yes,
forced you to aid him, in a so emc to get rid of one
rival for the hand of Maud Brandt by death, and
have another rival hanged for the other‘s murder.

"The death of one followed, and the other, Brad—
ford Carr, the tutor of that boy in irons on this
craft, would have been strung up, bad he not es-
coped.

"Escaping, he took to the sea and became a
pirate—hunter, and you, forced to fly for your life,
had become a rover and was captured by the very
man you had aided my husband to so cruelly
wrong.

“To save yourself you confessed all, and Barton
Keys became the outcast and outlaw.

“ But, all that he is, I love him, and he is my hus-
band, and shall never die.

“I know that he has sworn to avenge himself on
you for betraying him, and yet, knowing it, I ask
you to help me save him from the yard-arm.

“My father is (lead, his fleet, excepting this ves-
sel, captured, and my poor husband, with his
schooner a prize, lies in prison awaiting death at
the yard-arm.

“ But I do not give up, for with this craft in the
lake to aid us, an armed schooner in the river, and
a fortune in jewels to sacrifice if need be, I will save

iarton Keys.

"But vou must aid me. and in return you shall
have this logger. ample reward besides, and can
raise. the smuggler‘s flag as your own, and it will
501m lead you to fortune.”

" And you. lady?" asked the young man, in a tone
that showed that inwardly he was deeply moved
from some cause.

“I will go with my husband, who Will seek a home
elsewhere, I hope.”

“ But will he?"

"I believe it. I hope it."

“ l fear not. lady.”

Rita hit her red lips viciously for an instant, and
then said:

“Well. if he still floats the black flag, I shall not
desert him."

" And if you cannot save him, Lady Captain?"

"But I must.”

" Suppose that you should not?"

“ By the Cross. then will I hoist the skull-and-cross—
bones flag, and woe be unto all who have had a
Izaudlig the death of brave Barton Keys, the Sea
.inou .

Her voice rung like clanging metal. and her eyes
shone with a brightness that Seemed fairly to burn
{he smuggler officer as she turned them upon

iim.

But he spoke not for an instant, and then said:

“Lady Captain, you ask me. to aid you to save
Brii'to. the Buccaneer, as Barton Keys is called, from
the yard-arm.

"if I do so, I ask nothing in return, and shall go
my way alone; but. should he die. though I make
every effort to rescue him. I claim your hand as my
bride. even though I get not one particle of your love
Wit 1 it."

She turned upon him like a fury. and seemed about

to hiss forth scathing words of scorn; but checking If

 

 

 

 

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herself from some sudden inward impulse, she said

“IIo. ou pledge yourself by the Cross you revere
to do I in your power to rescue him?’ H

“I do faithfully so pledge myself, lad‘ .

“Then you can do no more, Chester_ ranger, and
should you fail. should Barton. Keys die at t e yard-
urrn, the day that he does I Will become your Wife,
but upon one condition.”

“Name it, lady." . _

“ That you devote your life, With mine, to avenge
him,” was the low, trembling response.

“ I acce t the condition.”

“Enoug l now head the lugger for the old re-
treat, where we can find material to so disguise it,
that she can lie at anchor in the lake as an honest
craft,” and with a bow Chester Granger left the
cabin, and the strange woman, for whom he held a
fascination he could not shake off.

CHAPTER XII.
ma THREAT.

To the rendezvous. where so long the old Smuggler
King, knownas the Sea Owl, had defied capture and
eluded the law-hawks constant! in search of him.
the in r went. and Rita herse f stood at the helm
and pi oted her into the inner lagoon.

A torrent of bitter thoughts swept over her as she
once more beheld the old scenes, for there years of
her girlhood had passed. _

Her father, once a planter on the river coast of the
mssism'ppi, had gone to the bad, and, forced. to fl ',
had turned smu gler, carrying with him his on y
child. Rita, an 0! negro and “egress Wh0_clung to
him in his downfall, and an Indian, Chmcopin, whose
life he had saved long years before. I

In his retreat he had hidden away, and his fleet
little vessels, seen only at night, and manned by
dan‘ crews, had gained the name of the Sea Owl
for in and made him famous as the Smuggler

Rita, reared in this atmosphere of crime, danger
and recklessness, had grown into her teens, and
then been sent to school in Pensacola, where she
kept the secret well of who she was.

Returning to the old haunts,_she had been covered
with precious gems by her lovrng father, petted and
admired, until she became known as the Smuggler
Queen. and the acts of daring she had done, With
her perfect knowledge of Seamanship, had well
earned for her the title. _

One night, in her little skiff, she had been crossmg

an inle when she came upon a drowning ma'n.
Qnic she had saved him, to find that it was
Barton eys. then flying for his life, haying escaped

from jail, where he was 1 ing under sentence of
death for the murder of a rival, and whose murder
he had laid at the door of Bradford Carr, the tutor
of Irving Brandt. _

Carrying him to her father’s vessel hidden away
in the lagoon, Rita Restel had prevented the Sea
Owl from killing the man she had rescued, as he
wished to do, and from that night, her love, never
before awakened, sprung into being and budded in-
to idolatrous worship.

Wedding the outlaw girl, Barton Keys had turned

irate, and carried her to sea with him; but well

ita knew that his old love, Maud Brandt, was con-
stantly in ihe thoughts of her husband, and that she
was an unloved wife. _

Yet still she clung to him through all, until the
end came in the killing of her father, capture .of
his fleet, the bringing of her husband’s schooner in-
to port as a prize, and then his being discovered _as
a pretended French merchant and being thrown in-
to prison, to die for his crimes.

All these thoughts crowded upon the Smuggler
Queen as she stood on the shore,watching the trans-
tormhiiig of the pretty lugger into a plantation
d r.

Iggd more, the thoughts crowded upon her _ of
what was before her. in seekirig revenge upon Irvmg
Brandt, the young Planter idshipman, and the
rescue of her irate husband, or visiting fearful ven-
geance upon is executioners.

Rita was of a nature as revengeful as an Indian’s,
without the gratitude a red-skin might feel for one
who, though injuring him, had yet done him a kind-
ue ‘

ss.

She hated Maud Brandt because her husband
loved her, and she hated Irving Brandt, because he
was the foe of all outlaws and had slain her father
before her eyes.

What Maud might feel as a pure woman, against
her former lover turned pirate, she did not care,
anymore than she did what her father had been,
and that he was seeking the life of Irving when he
lost his own.

He had fallen, and the midshipman was his slay-
er and that called for a life for a life in revenge.

That same sla er of her father had set her free,
When he might ave sent her to prison. he had saved
her life that fearful night of wreck on the Witches’
Isle, yet she felt no softening in her heart toward

im, and vowed in her heart, as she stood there on
the shore, that she would strike her revengeful blow
at him before another sun had risen.

“ Ha! I have it! I know what 1113’ revenge shall be
against him l” she suddenly crie , in a voice that
awakened the echoes of the forest and springng
into her boat she Julled rapidly to Where the lugger
lay against the ot er shore.

“How long before you can sail, Senor Granger?"
she asked, excitedly.

“ Within the hour, lady; but have you news of any
kind?" asked the lieutenant, struck by her manner.

“No, but get under way at the earliest moment,
for I not only wish to reach the city as soon as pos-
sible, but also to visit my retribution upon that ac-
cursed boy whom I have sworn to destroy.”

“ Will you kill him i” asked the smuggler.

“Worse! yes, I will leave him to a fate worse than
death,” was the hard answer of the woman, as she
de=cended into the cabin, while Chester Granger
muttered:

“ Poor Irving! Oh! that I dared to save him!

“ But no, it cannot be, it cannot be!"

CHAPTER XIII.
A warm) SUPERSTITION.
“w seamen would ever realize, in looking at the
clu ppearing craft sailing along on the blue wa-
ters of the Gulf, that under the disguise of a plan-
tation drovlzer, she possessed the graceful curves of
a yacht, hidden beneath a false bow and stern, and
could spread, in place of the ill-fitting, patched sails,
far too small for her spars, a mass of snowy canvas
that would be enough for a vessel of twice lier ton-

n .

aIgecertainly was a complete metamorphosis from
the little Sea Owl. and the neat dress of her crew
had given place to a rough attire that was as unbe-
coming to them aswas t e blackened and torn sail
to the craft.

Standing at the helm was Chester Granger, a far-
away look in his really fine eyes, as his gaze rested
listlesst upon a distant island.

Presently out of the cabin came Rita, the Smug-
gler Queen.

lIHer dress was the same, her beautiful face un-
c an .
“ A ! there is the island,” she said, as her glance
fell gpon it. and addressing the smuggler lieutenant.

“ es, lady, it is the Witches’ Island, and this is
the first time I ever knew of a vessel’s prow being
steered directly for it," was the answer.

“ Do you fear to go there?” -

“ All men do, lady, and I was surprised when you
bade me hold our course there."

" yAnre you a believer in witches, Lieutenant Gran-
ger

“ I believe in those who have told me strange
stories which I cannot doubt, of witches and spirits,
and see, every man on board this vessel has the
same dread. for you observe how nervous they are
and how they ta k together in low tones?"

“Yes, but why have they any fear now, for see
the sun is yet above the horizon ?" and she pointed
to the sun, fast nearing the watery horizon.

“ True, but darkness is not very far away, and the
men fear to see strange sights on yonder island.”

“ I shall not land there. Granger.

“ Ah! I am glad to hear that, ad ; let me change
our course then," and he. gave t e helm a slight
Bush to port, when the Smuggler Queen caught his

and and cried:

"Stay, for our course lies yonder, to that island,
Sefior Granger, though I do not intend to land
there."

“Then why go there, lad '?"

b“ There is one on board 2 is vessel who must land
t ere.“

“Ha! do you mean it, lad , to put that goor boy
upon that witch-haunted is and?“ cried ranger,
divining her revengeful purpose.

"Yes, for that poor boy, as you'called him, was the
one who took my father’s life."

b Granger made no response, but his thoughts were
usy.

To change the decision of the woman he knew
would be impossible, and though he longed to help
Irving Bran t, he dared not do it.

He feared the woman, and yet loved her, while he
was also fascinated by her, and she held an influence
over him which he could not shake ofl‘, even had he
so desired.

ln silence he stood, waiting for her to speak again,
WHBEi seeing the men coming aft in a body, he said
quic y:

“See, Lady Captain, the men are coming aft.

“ Can they mean mischief?"

“ It seems so, and I will get arms," she said, cool-
ly, and she started for the cabin, when suddenly up
the companionway from within sprung a form, and
it was closed in her face, just as the men in a body
gongrontcd the woman and the lieutenant on the

co .

“ Hal what does this mean, men .9“ cried Granger,
sternly. looking over the serious faces of the dozen
men before him, while he drew Rita back toward the

e m.

“ Yes. what mischief is brewing here, that you
come aft like mutiueers‘r“ said the Smuggler Queen,
putting on a bold front, though she was wholly at

  

     

   

the mercy of the crew, as she knew, for neither was
the lieutenant or herself armed. _

“ Lady Captain, we came to ask you if you know
what onder island isi"said one o the men, step-
ping orward as spokesman.

“ Yes, it is callvd the VV itches’ Island by some, by
others the Haunted Isle,” she answered, With as-
sumed indifference.

“It is said that the vessel that heads_purpose1
for yonder island, lad , unless she cames a blac
fla at her ak as a pirate, is doomed, and yet you,
wit no suc flag. sveer for it."

“ Yes. I have business there." .

“Ali. lady, what business can you have in going
where you doom us to death? .

“ No, no, it cannot be, it shall not be, and we Will
take the helm and put away." _

“Never! stand bacs, sir!" and Rita’s eyes flashed
fire.

The man paused. but said firmly:

“Lady beware, for it is further said that to save
a veser roni doom, that has sailed the course that
this one does two of her crew must be sacrificed.”

“ What mean you. sir mutineer .9" and both the
woman and her ieutenant paled, though they still
held a bold front.

“I mean. Lady Captain, that it is said that two
must be sacrificed, one from forward, the other from
the cabin. _

" Need I say that you are from the cabin, and the
leftenaht bunks forward?"

The words were too significant to misunderstand.
and the Smuggler Queen said, in a voice that had
lost none of its ring:

"Men, I meant not to land on yonder island, but
only to go near and leave to swim to it the one who
is now my prisoner below decks.”

" That is cruel even to a foe, lady, and your noi
going there does not alter our doom, for .the legend
says the craft that lays her course for it, and this
vessel has done so, and we must make the Sflcl‘lfit‘t.
and you and the leftenant must be the victims to
save the rest of us.”

The words fell appallineg upon the ears of the
two victims thus selected to save the others.

They knew well the fearful superstition that ruled
men who followed the water, and more especially
men with the brand of outlaw upon them; but, de-
termined to place another meaning upon their act,
and fearless to the last, the Smuggler Queen cried:

" Down. mntineer dogs that you are, and beg
mercy of your Smuggler Queen, for it is to possess
my jewels that you seek to slay me, and not that
you have t’ read of yonder island.

“Go! and force me not to show the power that I
possess to force on to obey!”

Momentarin t e men were awed by her look and
words, and some of them shrunk back, as though
fearing that she might possess some supernatural
power they knew not of.

But their leader did not flinch, and s ringing for-
ward grasped the Smuggler Queen byt e arm, while
he cried to his comrades:

“Seize them, lads. for their lives shall be sacri-
ficed to save our own 3"

CHAPTER XIV.
THE OUTLAW NEGRESS.

NEVER in his life had Irving Brandt felt that he
was in greater peril, than when he was put in irons
and confined below decks on the lugger, wholly at
the mercy of the woman whose life he had again
and again saved.

He had not believed her capable of her act, in put-
ting the manacles upon him. and throwing him into
the hold after what he had done for her.

He had been in dangers by sea and land had seen
moments when hope was almost gone from him
and yet would hope hold out a spark that death
would go from him.

But now, when a revengeful woman had made up
her mind to sacrifice him, what could he hope for?

No ray came to him that mercy would visit her
heart and lie calmly nerved himself to die, if so she
wille and to meet the worst with a fearless mien,
even though he stood upon the very threshold of what
had promised to be a brave and noble manhood.

In his dark prison-place he mused away the hours,
fed at meal-time b the old negress who had been
Rita‘s nurse from nfancy.

She was an ugly-faced old woman, who cultivated
a witch-like look in its worst phase, and as Irving
had a good look at her features, by the light of the
lantern she brought with her, he felt that she too
was merciless.

One day she sur rised him b saying:

“Pity you kilt o e massa, chi 0.”

“He deserved a worse death for his crimes than
to die as a brave soldier or sailor loves to die,"
sternly responded the midsliipman.

“T'ink so, chile? Well, maybe he were bad man
to man ,jbut he good to me."

This rving did not contradict, and the old negress
seeming to be in a talkative mood, continued:

“ Is you ’feerd ter die. massai”

“ No, but I do not wish to die, with the future all
before me.”

k “ Dat so, chile, dat so; but Missy Rita gwine to

ill on.”

“ believe that she is heartless enough to do so.”

“Guess you don’t recommembers me, does yer,
massa ?”

u 0-”

“Jist take 9. 00d look at my complecshun an’
see,” and she he (i the lamp up as complacentiy as
though there was something in her face to admire.

“I do not remember you, and yet your face is
familiar.”

“I recommembers you, young massa.”

“ Indeed! have we met before?”

“ Yas, massa.”

" Where?”

“ I has blessid mem’ry, chile, and I doesn’t forgit
you, an’ I hain’t gwine ter, nohow.”

“ Where have we met?”

“ Does yer recommember one da when er
yacht, de Lady Maud, was anchored in de rib er
fronting de city?”

“ She has been anchored there often.”

“ Dis was special ’casion, massa, and you was on
de deck, and a big ship run down leetle boat wid two
ole niggers in it.’

“ Ah, yes, I do remember you now. for you are the
old auntie I pulled out of the water.”

“ Truf! Gospil truf, honey, I is dat same ole ’oman,
an’ I hain’t forgitted it nut er.

" Yas, you did jum right inter dat muddy ribber,
an’ you jist sabe my ‘fe and give me some money
to git dry clothes with, and I remembers it."

‘ Well, it would have been better had I allowed
you to drown old woman, than to go to the bad and

crd With outlaws. ”

“ ’Tain’t so. chile, ’tain’t so, for I was a-herdin’
den wid outlaw pirits, an’ my ole massa’s lugger
were lying out in de stream den, an’ I was going
ashore to market, when I got upsetted; but I must
be going now, young massa. and I wants you to
recommember dat I is your friend.”

With this the old outlawed negress took up her

ltgntcelrn and dishes and departed, while Irving mut-
re :

" My friend, yes; but what good now here in this

place, can the- friendship of that poor oid negress do

me?

“Alas, nonel”

Yet it was pleasant to feel that there was one on
board the vessel who was his friend, and his thoughts
tilirngd then to the smuggler lieutenant and he mused
a on :

“ Gran er seemed to look kindly at me: but how
he has fa len.

“Only to think that a short time ago Barton Keys
and Chester Granger were the greatly admired beaux
at the Blue Anchor Inn.

“Now Barton Keys is to die as a pirate, and Ches-
ter Granger is a smuggler, and I, I will doubtless be
killed by the Smuggler Queen.”

In her next viSIt to the prisoner the old negress
was less communicative. and Irving could hardly
get her to speak to him; but one afternoon she came
in earlier than usual with his supper and said:

d “Eoiing massa, I is going to let you go soon arter
ar ."

“Why, what do you mean?” asked the midship-
man, with intense surprise

“ Well, chile, de lugger am a-runnin' close to a
island. and—"

“ ‘Vhat island?" ‘

“Idunno, sah, but it am a very good-size island,
an’ Missy Rita hab say that you swim like afish, and
I intend ter set yer free, sah, git off dem irons and
you kin go quiet through de cabing, get out of de
stern ort, which am very large, and dro down
inter e water, while de in ger am goin‘ ong, so
nobody know not‘ing about it.”
“But you will get into trouble, in good Woman."

“No, sah, for I ’buses you terrib e when I talks
ag‘in’ yer, an’ dey won’t neber suspect me an' if
Missy Rita do 'spect some ob de mens and kills ’em,
dey will be precr’s little loss, massa.”
This statement the youth could not contradict, so
he said:

“ Well, my good old auntie, I’ll take the chances
of the swrm if you will set me free, and here is some
gold for you. “

“ No, sah, I don’t touches your money, fer you
done pay me already in sabin’ my life.

“ No. sah, I has feelin‘.” and the old negress
walked off; but it was not long before she came
running in greatly excited, and bearing in her hands
a couple of pistols, while she cried:

“ Quick. massa. quick! for dei'e am a better way
ter sabe yerself, sah, as dere am trouble on deck.

“ Heur am (16 weepins, and I follers yer wid more,
fer I doesn’t use ’em myself.

" I haiu‘t got no key now, but I guesses we kin git
dis chain loose."

With this she thrust a piece of iron. which she had
brought in with her, through the ring to which the
chains were attached, and uniting their strength
they broke it. .
.“Now, inassa, go fer God’s sake and sabe Missy
Rita.“ cried the old outlaw negrcss, thrusting a pis-

 

 

tol into each mauacled hand. and then gathering up

 

several other weapons which she had brought with

er.

“Quick, sah, dis way, and I follows you wid dese
wea ns.”

Vi at had hapjpened IrvingI could not know; but
he certainly co (1 not get ‘mself into an worse
trquble, so he seized the pistols, and hastily eft the
ho d.

For a moment the light dazzled him, but clamber-
ing up to the deck, he suddenly came upon a scene
which the reader has already witnessed for it is the
attack upon the Lady Captain and her lieutenant by
the crew of the lugger. . ‘

Springing forward, his chains dangling about him,
his dark hair wavin in the wind, for he wore no
cap, a pistol graspe in either hand, and the old
negress, ' g a cutlass and several other wea-
pons, close upon his heels, the Planter Midshipman
shouted, in a voice that was stern and threatening:

“ Avast there. mutineer hounds, and hunt your
kennels, or 1 fire!"

(7b be continued-commenced in No. 71.)

 

A SPINSTER'S SOLILOQUY.

BY MRS. HARRIET STEVENS CRESSY.

 

Only a few short years ago

I was young and had a bean—
Only a few short years ago!
As I see in S If to-da ,

I am grow ng old an gray—
Only just a trifle gray.

Now another fills my Place,

Who is young and In! of grace,
With no wrinkle in her face.

On. why should my beauty fade,
And so give this haughty jade
Chance to dub me “that old maid?"

Shortly since I was a belle,

My conquests I remember well,
And the number I can tell.

And how strange! The very men
Who philandered round me then
Are at their pretty games again.

Yet as one can plainly see

They are quite as old as me,

And as gray as gray can be!

’Tis no harm for younger beaux
To sip sweets from checks of rose,
Or fond love-tales to disclose!

But oh, why, ye maidens gay,
Should these men of bearded gray
In thy ears such fond things say?
Now would not you deem it hold
Were Ia love-tale to unfold

To some young man half as old

As myself? That would be

To reverse the case, you see;

I’d simply be older than he.

For rules that will not work both ways,
I say. through good and evil days,

I cannot give a word of praise.

- White Beaver,

THE EXILE of the PLATTE;
on.
A Wronged Man’s Red Trail.

 

 

A Romance Founded upon Incidents in
the Border Life of Frank Powell, the
“ Doctor Scout,” late Surgeon In
the United States army, and
now the “Mighty Medi-
cine Chief of the Win-
nebagoes.”

 

BY HON. W. F. CODY (Buffalo Bill).

CHAPTER XXXI.
A WOMAN‘S WARNING.

THE erson who so suddenly confronted
Night awk Powell, the fort scout, when he
went up to arouse the officers to a kn0wledge
of their danger, as told him by that strange
man, Dead Knife Jim, was, as her words to
him implied, a woman.

He was amazed at finding there one whom be
little dreamed he Would see upon that Wild
prairie.

A woman there!

From whence had she come?

How bad she gained entrance to the camp,
even through the line of napping guards?

Who was she?

What was she doing there?

All these queries flashed like lightning through
the mind of the scout.

It was a night of surprises, but that certainly
was the greatest. ’

Struck with her words, and the question
asked him in a tone of sarcasm, as to whether
he would kill a woman, he answered quickly,
and with some sternness:'

“ No, I do not war upon women, even though
I find one here on seemingly hostile intent, for
you are armed, I see.”

“Yes, I am armed, and it is well that I am;
but I am here on no hostile errand, but one of
warning, if this is a United States soldiers’
cam , as I believe.”

“ t is the camp of Captain Burt, and I was
just going to arouse him, as there is danger
threatening.” _ ,

“There is indeed danger threatening, for up
yonder divide of the prairie are creeping half
a hundred Sioux warriors to attack your
cam .”

“ a! that one—armed outlaw was right then:
but come, miss, and see Captain Burt,” and
Night Hawk led the strange visitor to the
group of officers, five in number, who lay sleep~
ing soundly upon their blankets.

With a touch be aroused them, and their
.mazement at beholding a female quietly con-
fronting them was as great as had been the
scout’s.

“Captain Burt, there is mischief brewing,
apd this lady has come into camp to warn you
0 it.

“ After you hear her story, sir, I have some-
thing to communicate of importance,” said
Night Hawk.

The captain raised his bat politely, as did
the other officcrs, while he remarked with gal-
lantry: :

“ It is a surprise and a pleasure to see a lady
in our humble prairie camp, and you are most
heartily welcome.”

“Thank you, sir; but this is no time for po-
liteness, as the Sioux encamped over yonder
were reénfOi'Ced during the night by two other
bands, each their equal in number, and they are
now cree ing upon your camp with one party,
upon the ed Angels with another, while they
have a third force ready to mount and charge
your camp the instant the two bands of braves
on foot reach the point where they intend to
make a simultaneous rush upon you and the
outlaws.”

The words were rapidly spoken, but distinct
and explicit, and they fell upon the ears of the
officers like a knell, and Captain Burt said
hastily:

“ Gentlemen, go quickly, and see that every
man is awake and ready at his post.”

The several officers departed, and again tum-
ing to his feminine vis1tor, Captain Burt con-
tinned:

“ My words to my ofiicers, miss, prove how I
appreciate your warning; but pardon me if I
ask how it is that I find you here u on the
prairie, gliding into my camp like a riendly
specter, and bringing tidings of such import-
arms?”
“I am an unfortunate girl, sir, who within a
few hours I may say, have lost all I loved in *be
World, for our train was attacked by the Red
Angel outlaws, my father and I fled, but he
dieu upon the prairies. and a noble man, the
surgeon at your fort, alone saved me from a
fate worse than death.

“To save me, he sprung from his horse to
alone meet the outlaws, and I saw him dragged
away by them, but whether dead or living, I
know not.
“I fled to one he directed me to, a Main]-
Monkton, and he also saved me, but from the
Sioux who were pursuing me.

“The major was wounded and returned to

 

his ranch, while I, anxious to know the fate of
the noble surgeon, came on accompanied by the
. black cowboys from the ranch. _
“ We tracked them within a few miles of
- here, and then discovered your camp, the out—
laws and the red-skins, and a negro scout dis-
covored the cunning game of the Indians, and
I determined to warn you, so came here, pass-
ing through your lines unseen by any one until
1 was met by that gentleman.” I

“ My dear young lady, you have indeed been
a sufferer; but you shall remain under my care
until We reach the fort, and there you Will find
many warm friends.”

“No, sir; I have a home already, and an
adopted father in Major Monkton; but I could
not let you be attacked unwarned, so came to
tell on what my black scouts had discovered.

“ will return to them now, for they await
me off yonder a little way, in a divide 0f the
prairie.”

“ But you must not. go alone. ”

“ I will escort the lady, captain, as soon as. I
tell you that my brother, the Doctor. is a pris—
oner to the Red Angels, and unharmed; but i
think they Will hold him for a hostage against
u H

s.

“ Frank Powell in the hands of those fiends,
whom he has so persistently dogged?

“ This is sad news indeed,” said Captain Burt,
anxious] .

“ Frank will take care of himself, sir, nevor
fear, and as long as he is alive and unwounded
I feel no anxiety about him.

“ But, just before this lady arrived, an outlaw
visited the camp, and said Frank had bribed him
for five hundred dollars to come and give you
the warning of the Indians’ intended attack.

“I was on my way to tell you, air, when I
met our fair visitor here. ”

“ And the outlaw, Powell?”

“I had no right, under existing circum-
stances, to detain him, so allowed him to go.”

“It was ri' ht, perhaps, but I wish you had
held him— Ah! I see that you are anxious to
be off, miss, and I will not detain you, while I
assure you that your brave act tonight will be
remembered, and the ma 'or commandant I
know Will call at Monkton anch to See you.”

“ I am in a hurry, sir, for I feel that a few
more moments will bring on the attack from
the Indians, and I wish to be back with my
men.”

“ And a brave lot of protectors you haVe,
miss, in those brave black cowboys; but now I
will say an revoir, for we shall meet again.

“ You Will escort the lady, Powell, to her cow-
boys?”

“ Yes, Captain Burt. with pleasure,” answered
the scout, and he led Janette from the cam out
upon the dark prairie and in the opposite irec-
tion from that in which the danger lay.

CHAPTER XXXII.
THE TRIANGULAR COMBAT.

ALL that had taken place from the first
inkling that the Doctor Scout had of the cun-
ning game the Sioux were secretly playing, up
to the departure of Janette from the soldiers’
camp, had not taken an hour in transpiring,
though it has taken so much space to make
known.

As the young girl, escorted by Night Hawk,
the scout, departed from the cam , dawn was
breaking, and a gray light was stea 'ng over the
prairie.

The soldiers were now lying flat on the
ground in line of battle, excepting a few, who
held the horses in a circle, ready for their riders
to mount, and Captain Burt and his officers
were at their posts, several of them discussing
in low tones the strange visitor of a few mo-
ments before.

Over toward the Sioux cam all was quiet,
and only a dark mass was discernible, where
the ponies were grouped with their riders by
their sides.

The Red Angel camp was also still, and thus
the mornents were gliding away in awful sus—
pense, none knowing what the light of day
would usher in.

Suddenly a long line of flame shot up from
the prairie oVer at the Red Angel enca mpment,
temporarily revealing the outlaws and their
horses, the former having begun the battle,
sliding the pent-up suspense by striking the first

0W.

Almost simultaneously with the roar of the
Red Angels’ rifles came a series of yells from
the Sioux, from over on the ridge near by with
in easy range of the outlaw bivouac.

Those yells told of death in their midst, that
the rifles had struck home, and there were also
howls of rage and hatred.

Where they had expected to strike in the
back. as it were, to spring upon a sleeping foe,
just us they rose for the fatal rush, they had
met that shoWer of lead which had laid half a
dozen in their tracks dead, and wounded as
many mom, for the Red 'Angels were crack
shots, men whOSe lives had too often depended
gploln their aim to throw away powdermnd

a .

With the volley from the outlaws came yells
far down the prairie, and a rush of red-skins
was made upon the military camp.

But Captain Burt’s voice was heard giving
his orders to fire, and as one gun two—score of
carbines flushed, and again did Sioux braves
bite the dust.

Ofl.’ at the camp of the Indians, where the
ponies were massed together, the warriors
mounted in hot haste, and with fiendish yells
charged down upon the outlaw camp, while the
attacking party on foot, rallying after their
first repulse, also came on, their war-cries
echoed by the yells of the mounted braves, and
reéchoed from those who were rushing down
upon the soldiers.

“Stand firm, all, and wait until I give the
order to fire,” cried the Doctor Scout, his trum-
pet voice heard above the din.

_He had quickly formed the Red Angels in a
Circle, around their horses and their wounded
chief, and relying fully upon him, they stood
their ground, firm as a rock, to meet the over-
whelming charge. '

“The dismounted
fire!”

With the last word the Red Angels touched
their triggers, and another deadly fusilade went
forth that sent the warriors to their faces to
escape death.

“Well done, men, for there are a number
went down then who will not rise again.

“ Now look out for their arrows— Ha! they
retagate wel‘l.

‘ ring a ozen of those horses h r '
them for a breastwork.” e e, and km
With an alacrity that was born of having
done much work in deadly peril, the outlaws
led out a dozen of their worst horses, and
ranging them in a circle, dropped them dead
Whgre they stood by a bullet in the brain of
sec .

Thus protected, for

braves first; aim true——

_ they threw tliemselv .
down behind the still quivering breastwork 8;

horse-flesh, the Red Angels awaited another
command from their prisoner commander.

He had himself sprung forward and looked to
the. safety of Captain Kit, and urged Dead
Knife Jim to seek cover behind the horses.

But that worthy said coolly:

“Guessl hain’t so bad, Doc, but that I kin
help abit," and he took his place in the front
line With the others, resting his rifle across the
body of a slain horse.

Frank Powell now glanced over at the soldier
camp, to see that Captain Burt had formed his
men into a square, the horses in the center, and
was keeping at be the party attacking him.

But, should the ioux sweep OVer the outlaws
the Doctor Scout knew well that the two forces,
mounted and foot warriors, approaching thorn
then, would all rush down upon the soldiers
and most likely annihilate them.

It was a most critical moment, and the Sur-
geon Scout, as Well as every outlaw, realized it-
but the .depended upon him with the same;
trust W ich they had shown in their chief in
dangers of the past.

“Now let the [n my braves have it men~
fire!" 1
The order secured to issue from Frank Pow-

 

Iell s lips in the very nick of time, and agi

all] did

the Red Angels show their nerve and true
marksmansnip, for the voile went Where it
was aimed, right into the ml at of human and
brute flesh, for down went warriors and ponies
in one huddled mass together.

“ Well done, men; now let them have it as
rapidly as you can fire—newer mind the foot-
warriors just now.”

Rapid?r the Red Angels poured in their fire
now, an with yells of dismay the mounied
warriors broke and fled to safety, deseriing
their wounded and dead, and those on foot,
who were now up and rushing upon the little
band.

“Give those fellows your revolvers now!”
cried the Surgeon Scout, his blood warming
up to the work, though outwardly calm as a
statue.

In response the rattle of the revolvers be-
gun, and. unable to face the scathing leaden
hail driving in their faces like a chill norther
of the prairies, the foot-band also beat a re—
treat, but dragged back with them to the shel—
ter of the ridge their dc ad and wounded com—
rades.

The daylight had now come, the cast was
gr0wing rosy, as though reflecting back the
red flashes of firearms, and, as the Sioux were
firing with the few rifles they had, and their
bows, and the soldiers were " standing (:fl' ” the
force attacking them, Frank Pencil, as he
glanced coolly over the prairie, saw that a tri-
angular battle was being fought, which, if the
red-skins managed to break the line. of troopeis.
would end in a massacre of the pale-faces, sol-
diers and outlaws alike.

CHAPTER XXXIII.
TO THE RESCUE.

THAT Captain Burt and his men realized the
‘flull gravity of their situation was very evi-

out.

They had left the ranch on a hunt for the
Surgeon Scout, who had given out that he
would be absent but a day.

Rumors coming in the next morning thata
band of Indians Were raiding round, and the
Doctor not having returned, Major Benteen,
the fort commandant, had ordered Captain
Burt and two-score troopers on a search for
him.

They had thus come 11 on the Indians, the
Doctor, and the Red Ange s all at once.

As with the red—skins, the troops had a stand-
ing war with the Red Angels, and when the

that they would have a fair opportunity of se-
verely punishing Indians and outlaws alike.

They saw, from the position of affairs, that
the red-skins were pursuing the outlaws, and in
Spite of their, the soldiers’, appearance, did not
intend that they should escape them.

It looked like defiance on the part of the red-
skins, and Night Hawk, the scout, reported to
Captain Burt that their boldness was occasioned
by having reénforcements near.

A sergeant of the comgany had said that he
recognized the Surgeon cont among the out-
laws, and this caused the captain to make no
effort to attack. but wait until morning, for he
feared that the Red Angels might put their
prisoner to death.

Watching each other, as the reader knows,
the Indians, outlaws, and soldiers went intoa
dry camp to await the morrow and what it
might bring forth.

What that morrow ushered n the reader has
seen, as also the strange scenes that had trans-
pired during the night.

When the general attack began, Captain
Burt and his men met it romptly and bravely;
but he soon saw that ight Hawk had been
right in his surmise that the Indians had other
comrades near, for, after the first charge and
repulse, he saw that they had three times the
force of the evening before, and outnumbered
him six to one.

Anxioust he watched the double attack upon
the Red Angels, and the cool manner in which
the outlaws met and drove back their foes,
n ounted and on foot, won his admiration.

" By Heaven, Amos! there stands Surgeon
PoWoll in the midst of the OuLILHVS,” cried Cup-
tain Burt. looking through his glass.

The young officer addressed leveled his own
glass, and after gazing an instant upon the out-
laWs. answered:

“ Yes, sir, I recognize the Doctor’s tall form,
and so far from being a bound prisoner, he
seems to be directing the outlaws as a leader.”

" Yes they have been forced to release him to
aid in the defense. well knowing from experi-
ence the worth of his strong arm and deadly
aim.

“ I only wish he was here with us. and Night
Hawk, too, for I am anxious about the scout
and that strange girl.”

“ Night Hawk will take care of her, and him-
self, too, Captain Burt; but here they come, sir,
at us again, ’ and all now devoted themselves to
the work of meeting another charge of the red-
skins, who had retreated to the divide, where
their onies were, and now came mounted to
the at ack.

The soldiers set their teeth, and fired in pla-
toons, as their captain ordered, and once more
sent the red-skins reeling out of range, wild
with rage and yelling like demons.

l drew a long breath at the result, but
their attention was at once called to the out-
laws, who were again to face the same ordeal.

The soldiers saw that the Red Angels were
few in number, that some of them lay back in
the center of the little circle, wounded or dead,
and that the red. skins were driving down upon
them both on foot and horseback in four sep-
arate bands.

Two of these bands were on foot and two
mounted, and the attack was from four differ-
ent quarters.

There Were double the number of Indians
against the outlaws who were opposing the sol-
diers, and with half as many foes to face them.

“ By the Gods of war! but I would be glad to
see the red—skins wipe those fellows out, but for
Surgeon Powell’s presence in their midst,”
cried Captain Burt.

“ Yes sir; and they meet the attack so brave-
lry I feei like helping them almost,” answered

.ieutenant Ames.

“ You have struck the right key-note, Amos,
for, be they What they ma , on Powell’s ac-
count I wil become their all’y in this fight, and
help beat those red devils back," and calling to
his bugler, Captain Burt was about to order
him to sound t 6 march, when Lieutenant Amos
called out in clarion tones:

" Attention! stand ready, for here they come
a sin!”

The attention of all was at once taken from
the outlaws, and once more the soldiers had to
face the red—skins’ charge.

It was more desperate. than before, and the
soldiers wuVered a ittle under the rain of ar-
rows, but the Sioux again broke and ran to the

 

shelter of the divide.

Here and there a soldier was stretched out
dead, a horse or two had fallen, and half a
dozen men reported themselves wounded, so
that nfl'airs looked blue.

“ pr is the time we need Powell,” said the
captain, sadly. us he turned to do what he could
for the wounded.

“ The outlaws seem to have suffered too, sir,
but they heat off the red-skins at every quar—
ter,” remarked Lieutenant Amos, who had
again turned his glass upon the Red Angels’
camp.
“ Yes, and they fought with fewer men a
much larger force than we did, Amos; but then,
those reckless devils are fond of bloodshed and
fight With a halter about their necks.”

“ And we with a scalping-knife suspended
ovor our heads: but I believe, sir, the red—skins
are mm: to consolidate against us.”

“ y Jove! but you are right, for see, they
are leaving the outlaws and coming to join their
comrades.

“ It looks dismal for us, Ames, and I would to
Heaven Night Hawk was here, for lie is worth a
score of soldiers in an Indian fight.”

The soldiers also saw that the red-skins, that
bad uttucked ihe outlaws, were moving down
to join their comrades, all of them being new

 

mounted, and leaving but a small force to follow

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

shadows of night fell congratulated themselves.

  

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

  
  
     
 
   
  

   
   
   
      
    

fwd-fi-‘(CEETQT  

. ’1 lif\~i';xi‘—ém'..‘r when”

  
  

  
 
    
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
  
  
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
   
    
   
   
   
    
  
 
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
 
   
 
 
 
  
   
  
   
  
 
  
   
   
  
   
  
 
  
   
   
  
  
   
   
 
 
   
    
   
  
  
   
    
    
    
   
    
    
    
   
  
   
 
  
  
  
   
 
   
  
  
  
   
    
 
 
  
    
    
  
   
   
    
   
  
  
 
  
    
   
  
  
 
   
    
 
 
  
    
    
     
    
  
  
      
   
 
  
  
   
 
   
  
 
 
  
   
   
  
  
   
     
  
 
    
  
  
   
        
 
   
   
  
  
 
 
   
 
  
 
   
  
  
   
  
    
     
  
  
   
  
   
     
  
   
   
  
    
   
 
 
  
  
  
   
    
   
 
 

ganja:

  

 

 

raw-Byibaa'rze. 2 -

“jerks”: -' I

an .«im’.

 

.13  \ - i.”
r i  , I

  

. ‘ N
' amt-f.
/. .-- Jib

 

_ ,~,x__fm‘ __~___~_*-_————_~_~_.

 

  

with the dead and wounded, whom they had
strapped u )0" the backs of ponies.

The sol iers having wawred under the
charges of the Indians before, what would they
not do when they had to face a much larger
force, was the thought in the minds of Captain
Burt and his officers, and it was no wonder that
one and all Were anxious as to the result, for
Indian mercy was not a virtue known to those
who met them in battle.

Watching closely the troopers saw the two
forces unite and then assemble for a council of
war.

Glancing over toward the outlaw camp, they
beheld the Red Angels ap rently taking things
with a great deal of in ifference as to what
might occur.

“ We are in for it, Ames, that is certain, so
let the men do as the outlaws have done.”

“ How do you mean, Captain Burt!”

“Kill a number of horses range them in a
circle, the saddles on top, and throw up sod and
dirt with their knives to make as good a breast-
work as possible.”

“ We can then make a good fight, sir.”

“ Yes, we can fight it out to the bitter end,
and die in our tracks, Ames,” was the stern re-
sponse of Captain Burt.

The order of the captain was quickly obeyed
the dead and wounded horses being made use of
first, and then others were slain when needed
to make u the circle..

Thus, w th the horses, the saddles, blankets
and traps, and soil and dirt hastily thrown up,
the breastwork was a fair protection against
the Indian arrows, and even more than an In-
dian pon would care to go over.

The re skins coolly watched the work of the
soldiers, as though they felt assured of their
prey, and still kept on holding their council of
war.

“ The outlaws are working like beavers too,”
said Lieutenant Ames, and upon looking toward

them it could be seen that the Red Angels had
not only not been idle, but had completed a
breastwork far superior to the one the soldiers
had built.

“That looks like Powell’s work, Ames; but
what in the mischief is the matter with the In-
dians?"

“ They are coming again, sir!”

“Stand ready alll let no man waver, or we
are all lost.

“ Be firm, aim true, and we will yet beat
those red devils off!” shouted Captain Burt
and a cheer answered his words, which ended
in one long yell and the words, shouted in a
chorus of voices:

“ The N ight Hawk ! the Night Hawk!

“ Bravo! he is coming I”

All eyes were now turned in a direction 0 -
posits to the Indians, who were momentari y

orgotten, and they saw a dozen horses dashing
swiftly toward them, and upon each animal
was a rider.

At their head were two persons, one none
other than George Powell, the Night Hawk
Scout, and the one by his side was a young girl
—Janette.

Behind these, riding two by two, were the
black cowboys from Prairie Rest Ranch.

“Bravo! yonder small band are a host in
themselves for us, men,” cried Captain Burt,
cheerily, and three ringing cheers were iVen for
the daring ones who were coming to t eir aid,
even at the risk of self-sacrifice.

The excitement among the Indians, which
had been mistaken for another charge, was
now understood, for they had first discovered
the relief {party dashing over a rise in the prai-
rie towar the besieged soldiers.

Chagrined that the relief arty would reach
the little fort before them, t e Indians vented
their fury in yells, and, continuing their charge,
although not organized, rode swiftly down upon
their foes.

“Be ready to receive them l” shouted Night
Hawk, and his words brought the soldiers to a
sense of their dan rr.

Then, when wit in a hundred ards of the
soldiers, Night Hawk wheeled his orse to the
ri htabout, Janette and the cowboys at once
dig the same, and a line was quickly formed.

“Good God! can the scout mean to try and
check them ’i” cried an officer.

But, as the words left his lips, the rifles of
the daring band cracked, and ere the smoke
drifted away the effect was seen upon the In—
dians, who were staggered by the gelling fire,
while Night Hawk and his brave followers
dashed on to the fort.

“ Overl” cried the scout, to the negroes, and
then to to the soldiers:

“ Stand away alll”

Straight at the barricade they went, and
amid a breathless silence among the soldiers,
the horses of Night Hawk and Janette shot into
the air and came safely down within the circle,
while amid the wild hurrahs that greeted them,
the black cowboys followed two by two.

The red-skins answered the cheers of the sol-
diers with fiendish yells, and drawing nearer to
the little fort, showed by their actions that they
intended to attack in a very short while, for
they seemed driven to madness by the losses
they had sustained. .

“ The reds think you are the eaSier party to
run down,so united their forces on you first,
captain, and will then take in the outlaws, if
successful,” said George Powell, the scout, as
he sprung from his horse and aided Janette to
dismount.

“ And what chances of success have they,
Powell?” asked Captain Burt, as he stepped for-
ward to greet Janette.

“ Life is uncertain, captain; but whatever the
chances, this brave girl insisted upon coming
with her brave followers to share them With
you, and you see that they are here.”

“And most welcome too, for you add great
strength to our force, sweet lady, though you
increase your own peril. ' I

“ It certainly was mOst self-sacrificin on
your part, and I will appoint you chief 0 our
hospital and give you a place here,” and the
captain led Janette to the little inner Circle,
where the wounded had been taken.

“ See, Captain Burt, the Indians are prepar-
ing for a grand rush,” cried an officer, _

“Yes, and the outlaws are retreating,” cried
Lieutenant Ames, as horsemen were seen riding
out of the barricade thrown up by the Angels.
; “By Heaven! they are flying in safety, while
we are left here to be massacred,” said Captain
Burt, bitterl .

“ You areymistaken, Captain Burt ;. the Red
Angels are coming to our aid,” said Night

lawk. _

“ it is so, by the Lord Harry, and [he I’Vtzard
1)!)("07' leads 010m!” shouted Lieutenant Ames,
as the tall form of Frank Powell was seen at
the head of the Red Angel horsemen.

(To be continued—commenced in N0. 67.)

 

Just a. Word to Say.

 

A'r a recent lynching-bee, out in Nevada,
some of the mob were inclined to be a little
more sympathetic toward the culprit than is
usual on such occasions. One man went so far
as to offer a bet of $100 to $90 that the affair
would not come off after all. _

But the majority Were determined, though
they gave way to the minority so far as to let
the man speak for himself before they hOisted
him. .

“ If you have anything to say, say it,” was
the laconic. charge.

“ I have very little to say, gentlemen,” com-
menced the culprit; “in fact,_[ don’t think
there is much time to say anything in, but be-
fore l consign my soul to its last account I
would like. to call your attention to a little ar-
ticle of cornplnster which, I assure you, gon-
tlemen, is the finest thing of the ‘kllld ever be-
fore pressed upon the market. Lorns, buiiions,
inverted nails—l”

But 119 was all alone, and when a cowboy
came along an hour after and offered tovcut the
rcpr- which still hung slack from his neck and
the trim. the grateful man extended his corn-
plaster .M his deliverer with a moist eye and
told him in t 11:.» one cake at half price. -

 

 

 

 

  
 
 
 
  
 

 

 
   
  

bl'iu'nu.

i,"

LONGING FOR SPRING .

De Spring 0’ de year am a slippin' er lon
An looks wid a peep through de col’ (rfiilly a’r,
Aii’ de bird am or lookin' er roun’ for his song
As he hops on de liin’ an‘ de half-frozen br’ar.

De fire feels good fur dar’s ice in de creek,
But Spring it am comiii‘ er long jes do some,
Fur l see‘d a yaller-hammer wid a straw in his beak,
An’lhle knows whut he’s doin‘, ef he doan’ I‘ll ber
ame.

I‘ll be mighty glad when do warm win‘ blows
Aii‘ de cows stan’s aroun‘ enjoyin’ 0‘ de cood
Fur, tclr tell de Lawd’s truth, l‘se sorter sea. 06 0’
c ose,
An‘ haster hustle might‘ly fur ter git er little wood.

 

 

 

Plains and Mountain Men.

BY FRANK TRIPLETT.

 

 

Thomas Eddie.

SINCE the death of William Wingo, who died
at his home, in Texas, in the latter part of 1882,
but a single one of the daring band of plains
pioneers now lives. That one s Thomas Eddie,
who at the age of eighty-five still survives, in
the full possession of mental and bodily vigor.

Callin upon him in June, 1883, I was enabled
to elicit rom him many facts in regard to his
comrades, which, added to those accumulated
by me during my life upon the plains and in the
mountains, make the fullest biographical
sketches extant of these border heroes to whose
valor and enterprising spirit we owe so much.

Thomas Eddie was born in Scotland on the
29th day of August, in the year 1798. In size
be is a small man; of fair complexion, and a
look that betokens unusual; firmness. He is
still, at his advanced age, as active as most men
at the age of forty, and bids fair to last for
many years.

Eddie left his native land when but a youth,
and, being of an adventurous disposition, on
reaching America, made his way to the border.

In 1823 Ashley and Henry recruited one hun-
dred and forty-nine men for the purpose of es-
tablishing a fur company, it being their inten-
tion to contest with the other companies for a
portion, at least, of the valuable trade. The
company left St. Louis in large keel-boats, the
mode usually adopted by those who made trad-
ing, as well as trapping, a portion of their busi-
ness.

For many weeks they worked their way up
the Missouri river against the stiff current;
poling, rowing and cordeling, and without any
exciting incident, at last reached the Arickara
village, at which it was determined to open the
trade. It may be well to explain some occur-
rences which took place shortly before the ar-
rival of this company of trappers, as they were
destined to prove of terrible consequence to
them. A young warrior, son of the head-chief
of the Arickaras, had been detected stealing
some horses, by one of the trap rs of the
Rocky Mountain Fur Company, an as the thief
demurred to the command to give them up, the
trapper exercised upon him the borderer’s swift
justice, and left him lying upon the ground as
food for the coyote and the vulture. The tribe
was rendered furious by this action, but the
trappers were in large numbers, and being
vigilant did not suffer any loss in men or horses,
which the savages almost considered as of equal
im rtance.

his was the state of affairs when Ashley’s
men came upon the scene, and had it been
known would have saved them a terrible blow.
Along with Ashley was a rene ade white man
named Rose, who was a war-ch ef of the Crows,
but who was acting as interpreter for Ashley.
This man had been outlawed in Kentucky and
had fled to the wilderness to escape the conse-
quences of his crimes. Ashley and some others
have represented him as endeavoring to play
into the hands of the Indians, but his actions on
this and another occasion, when the lndians
were in large force and particularly insolent,
as well as the opinion of Eddie, go to show that
the advice of the renegade, had it been followed,
would have saved many valuable lives.

It had been Ashley’s intention to land on a
bar near the middle of the stream, but the wa-
ter was too shallow and he ulled in to the bank,
a short distance below the ndian village. Rose
advised him to seek some other lan ing, and
pointed out the dense growth of small cotton-
woods lining the banks, and which reached from
the village to within ten yards of the boat. He
thought the Indians might take advanta e of it
to ambush the boat, in case of troub e, and
from every appearance he had made up his
mind that the savages meditated mischief.
Rose’s long residence among the Indians, and
his thorough familiarity with their ways should
have caused this advice to be regarded, but
Ashley, with the over-confidence of a thorough-
ly fearless man, paid no heed to it, and at once
began the trade.

The Indians developed a feverish desire .to
buy guns and ammunition, paying any rice
for these coveted articles. They pretend I that
they wanted them for a foray against their ene-
mies, the Sioux, and were unheSitatmgly sup-
plied. This was not deemed a lack of Judgment
on the part of Ashley, as the Arickaras had not
for years struck a white foe, and were conSId-
ered firm friends by all of the traders.

Day after day the trade continued and no
suspicions were aroused until three of_ the
trappers were missed, and, a search being insti-
tuted, their mutilated corpses were found in
some brush near the village. The alarm was at
once given, and fearing further mischief a_ re-
treat to the boats at once began. The caution,
however had come too late, and what Rose had
predicted now really occurred. As they hur-
ried down to the landing, the swarms of In-
dians, who had secreted themselves in the brush,
poured volley after volley into the ranks of the
flying trappers.

The whites fought bravely, but. they were
battling with an unseen foe and wisely pushed
on to their boats as fast as posmble. At the
first alarm these had been shoved out to a sand-
bar, some distance from the shore, in order to
save the valuable goods with which they were
stored. . .

Here they were again cabled to await the ar-
rival of their crews. Reaching the bank the
trappers plunged, in a mass, into the rapid cur-
rent and endeavored to reach the shelter of the
barges. all the time subjected to the murderous
rifles of the Arickaras. When the remnant of
the band reached the boats, the cables were
cut, and still under fire of the concealed In-
dians, thev drifted down the stream, their an-
swering shots causing many a savage to bite
the dust. For fifteen miles the retreat was
continued, the Indians availing themselves of
every advantageous point to ambush the un-
fortunate tra ers. .

At last the Pisrickaras drew oflf and the whites
were enabled to sum up their losses. Of the
one hundred and forty-nine men who had.en-
tered the villa e of the Arickaras that morning,
full of life an hope, but sixty were left alive,
and of this number only fifty were found upon
the boats; ten having dashed through thewil-
lage at the first alarm and escaped by a flight
up the river. _ . .

Colonel Leavenworth was at this time in com-
mand of a garrison at Council Bluffs, and. to
him Ashley dispatched a messenger stating
his loss and asking for reiiiiforcements to avenge
it. In response be dispatched a _company of
soldiers and these were accompanied by a vol-
unteer party of Sioux warriors, under the com-
mand of ‘Vhite Bear, one of their most famous
chiefs.

With this force the trappers turned back to
the village with a burning desu‘e to obtain re-
venge for their murdered comrades. Sw1ft as
had been their march, their foes had been ap-
prised of their coming and had made every
preparation for evacuating their'vdlage. In
the fierce charge upon the retreating savages,
soldiers, Sioux and trappers Vied With each
other as to who should be foremost, and the
slaughter was terrible. In the midst of the

combat, IVhite Bear singled out a gigantic!

 

Arickara chief and insultingly defied him to
Single combat. Though a murderer, the Arick-
era was no coward and boldly accepted the

challenge of the Sioux. Neither had time to
reload his rifle, and with their knives in their
left and their tomahawks in their right hands
they advanced to the conflict. Whites and In-
dians alike paused to witness the duel. The
burly Arickara endeavored by main strength

’to overcome his smaller but more active antag—

onist, whose skill and agility made him fully
the equal of his foe. For the space of several
minutes the rapidly whirling tomahawks, as
they cut and parried, held the spectators spell-
bound, but with a rapid feint at his enemy’s
head, the Sioux dodged under his uard and
with a powerful blow upon the knee a most sev-
ered the leg of his adversary and then, with a
swift bound, evaded the descending weapon of
the Arickara. The latter tottered for a mo-
ment, and just as he was about to fall made a
swift whirl of his tomahawk and sent it hissing
through the air, hopin to brain his enemy.

H18. aim was good, ut stepping quvckly to
one aide the Sioux evaded it, and as the Arick-
ara fell to the ground his own hatchet went
crashing through the skull of his foe. The rest
of the Arickaras dispersed in flight, and were
followed for miles by their enemies, who took
ample vengeance upon the treacherous savages
before they relinquished the pursuit.

After the destruction of this village with all
of its rtores and lodges, Eddie and thirteen com-
rades (among them the celebrated William Sub
lette and others ‘equally as famous) went on up
to thefl‘ellowstone in advance of the boats.
On their way up they encountered quite a body
of trappers hastening down to their rescue,
havmg been advised of their calamity by those
of the party who had made their flight up the
river, instead of toward the boats. Learning
that their presence was not required and that
the Arickaras had already been sufficiently
chastised. all turned back and soon reached
their rendezyous on the YellOWstone.

Remaining here some time, Eddie and his
comrades, at the approach of winter. sought
refuge in the village of the Crow chief, Ara-
pooish, and here remained until spring. In a
raid upon the Blackfeet, which some of the
trappers and Crows made, Eddie was severely
wounded, and on reaching the Crow village
was for two weeks in imminent danger of his
life, but, thanks to a strong constitution, finally
recovered.

In the spring the fourteen trappers set out
for the Columbia river, it bein the desire of
Ashley that they should make t eir way down
that stream to its mouth, as he intended to es-
tablish a trading- 0st upon it in order to com-
pete with the Eu son Bay Company, which al-
most entirely monopolized the trade of the Pa-
cific slope. Owing to the succoss of the latter
Company, the waters of the Western coast of
America, while certainly rich in furbearing
animals, were greatly overrated, and every
Company was anxious to have a force em-
ployed in that field. The success of the British
Company was no doubt owing to the extended
field over which it worked and its monopoly of
all the furs taken. If divided by several Com-
panies, as was the country east of the rest
ranges, it is doubtful if any of them could ave
done sufficient business to hold themselves in
the country. This was well understood by the
shrewd managers of the English corporation,
and hence their strenuous exertions to keep out
all rival o raters.

Throug the country of the warlike Blackfeet
their progress was a continual battle. Not a
day or night but there was a skirmish or a sur-
prise. Knowing the pugnacity of these Indians
all of the traders had wisely refrained from sell-
ing them fire-arms, and hence they were not as
dangerous foes as their courage and malice
wou d have made them, had they been better
armed. In every war-party a few of them
were rovided With guns, but even for these
the ound it difficult to obtain ammunition,
an for missile weapons they were obliged to
depend usually upon their bows and arrOWs. Of
a] the plains or mountain Indians they were
the most coura eons and enterprising, true
Western Ishmae 'tes, “ their hand against all
men.”

While out on a hunting expedition in the
mountains Eddie and Fitzpatrick found them-
selves suddenly surrounded by these wily foes,
and had barely time to take refuge in a small
ravine, when, with their terrible war-cries, the
Blackfeet dashed up in a furious charge. 868-
ing that they were in for a long fight, even if
they should be lucky enough to esca e at all,
Eddie requested Fitz atrick to ho] his fire
while he tried to pic of! the chief, hoping to
discourage the savages in this way.

As the Blackfeet rushed on, Eddie selected
the leader and with a sure aim dropped him
but contrary to his expectations their foes did
not even halt. Drawing his pistols he succeeded
in killing another of the Blackfeet, and re idly
thrusting the discharged pistol into his be t he
took the second one in his right hand and call-
ing to his comrade to draw both of his, they
opened a fierce fusilade right in the faces of
their faltering foes. Another Indian was killed
and one badly wounded, and Eddie succeeded
inflknocking over another with the butt of his
r1 e.

Through the gap thus created in the ranks of
the savages the trappers rapidly dashed, and
with the energy of despair fled toward their
camp. Of the countless arrows discharged after
them two struck Eddie; one taking effect in his
shoulder, the other piercing his thigh. Fitz-
patrick was also struck once, but was only
slightly wounded. Stop ing long enough to
pull the arrows through t e wound in his thigh,
as the barb prevented its being removed in any
other way, Eddie and his companion continued
their flight, pressed eagerly by the infuriated
Indians.

“But a single circumstance,” said Mr. Eddie,
in speaking of this occurrence, “saved us—the
savages knew that Fitzpatrick’s rifle had not
been discharged, and at any time, when too
closely pressed, all that was necessary to send
them to cover was for Fitzpatrick to turn and
level his rifle.”

In their furious haste the Blackfeet followed
them so near to their camp that the other tra -

ers came to their assistance and succeeded in
killing ten of the savages; the coming of night
aiding the others to escape.

After their discovery of Salt Lake, they
made their way with great danger and much
suffering to the Columbia, on whose banks the
were attacked by several hundred Indians, an ,
as has been shown in a former sketch, forced to
swim the swollen stream while the ice was run-
ning thickly. No one was injured at this point,
except Fitzpatrick, accidentally wounded in the
leg by a comrade, and William Sublette, stun-
ned by a heavy cake of floating ice.

Going back to the Great Salt Lake, the trap-
pers had a successful season, and crossed over
to the Platte divide. It was from this point
that they detached one-half of their number to
go to Santa Fé for ammunition. These seven
men they never saw again, and their fate is in-
volved in mystery. After waiting for them
several weeks, the remaining trappers started
for the rendezvous on the Yellowstone. It was
upon this trip that Eddie’s duel with the Navajo
occurred, the most famous of all his many com-
bats. It happened near the present site of
Bowlder, Colorado.

Eddie and a comrade had started out to hunt,
and havin killed a couple of antelope, were on
their way sex to camp. when they encountered
a large war‘party of Navajoes. Luckily they
were near the mountains and on foot, while
their f0es were on horseback. They lost no
time in darting into a canyon, and as they did
so, they noticed that five men disengaged them-
selves from the larger body and were coming
on as rapidl as possible. The others rode on
in the direction of the trappers’ camp, and fear-
ing that it might be surprised, Eddie told his
comrade to hasten across the mountain to the
camp, while he endeavored to baffle the five
savages who were following them.

As soon as his comrade commenced the as-
cent of the steep hill to the right. Eldie
flew with all Speed up the canyon for a few

 

 

hundred yards and then rapidly ran back upon
his own trail and secreted himself among some
Jagged bowlders. A short time after four of
the Indians went cautiously past in pursuit,
andas soon as they had disappeared around a
jutting point, Eddie left his hiding-place and
ran at the top of his speed for the mouth of the
canyon. He knew that in a few minutes the
savages would again be upon his trail, and to
succeed in his stratagein he must exert himself
to the utmost.

As he had anticipated, a single Indian had
been left to guard the stock, and on leaving the
mouth of the canyon Eddie made directly for
this savage._ Had the latter mounted and kept
out of Eddie’s reach, the course of the latter
would have been speedin run, but either taken
too much by surprise to decide correctly, or
seeming to fly from a single foe so much his
inferior in size, the Indian threw his rifle to his
shoulder, took a rapid aim and fired. The bul-
let flew wide of its mark and the bullet of the
trapper now sped upon its mission. Firing
while still running swiftly, Eddie stumbled just
as his gun was discharged, and the ball, after
passmg through the Indian’s thigh, struck the
eg of the horse by which he was standing and
both fell to the ground, the savage being caught
under his horse.

Eddie now anticipated an easy victory, but
before he could reach the horses the Indian, b
an almost superhuman effort, had extricated
himself from beneath the fallen animal and
stood upon the defensive. To add to Eddie’s
desperation he heard a fierce yell, and, looking
over his shoulder, saw the four Indians emerg-
ing from the canyon and coming swiftly down
upon him. With hardly a hope of escape, Ed-
die threw himself with fury upon the horse-
guard and aimed a swift blow at his head with
his tomahawk. The struggling horse struck
the Indian and threw him aside, causing the
trapper’s weapon to fell upon his shoulder in-
stea of his head.

Eddie despairingly dro ped his tomahawk,
and, drawing his knife, a erce struggle began.
The Indian was more than a match for the
trapper in strength, but the young Scotch man
was the more active of the two and was fight—'
ing for his life. In the struggle which ensued,
the Navajo made a savage thrust with his
knife at the trapper, which the latter caught in
the palm of his left hand. With iron nerve he
closed his fingers around the hilt of the wea-
pon and endeavored to stab his fee with his
own.

Just at this juncture a rifle-shot rung out, ac-
companied by a shrill death-whoop. The atten—
tion of the Indian was at once attracted, and
as he glanced ofl’ toward the sound, Eddie, by
a rapid ii ward movement, dealt him a death-
wound. he trapper now turned to see what
was occurring behind him and found that the
savages, now reduced to three, had halted for
a moment but were again bounding toward
him, and were not more than fifty yards off.
Springing upon a horse and attemptin to lead
off the other three uninjured ones, t e three
savages fired, but only succeeded in crippling
another horse. '

Circling toward the canyon with the horses,
Eddie saw his companion coming toward him,
and rapidly mounting, the two succeeded in
killing the remaining savages and then made
their way to camp.

After numerous adventures Eddie, in 1829,
returnedtoSt. Louis and bou ht the Green Tree
Tavern, at that time the hote of the city. Af—
ter a year or two he sold this property and
bought the farm in St. Louis county, on which
he now resides. In 1833 he married a Miss
Clarke, one of the belles of St. Louis. Thus,
surrounded by every comfort and luxury is
spent the evening of a life whose morning was
full of noble and daring deeds. Providence
has blessed this pioneer of plains and moun-
tains with an abundance of this world’s goods,
and his hospitality is unbounded. That he may
yet live long to enjoy his gmsperity is the wis
of all who know Thomas ddie.

 

 

The Skippfl Big Talk.

BY HENRY HARDING.

 

Wn were all sailing along down the Jersey
coast in a yacht, and the greenhorns in the

arty were bothering the skipper with questions.
gVe sighted a lighthouse and Mr. Anderson,
who hailed from Ohio, an had never seen one
before, asked what that was.

“That ” said the skipper, rather scornfully,
“ is a lig t—a flash-light.”

“ What makes it flush?” inquired Mr. Ander-
son.

“Don’t you know what makes it flash?” asked
the skipper.

“No: what?”

“Well, you know what a lightning-bug is,
don’t you? The Government has a place for
breeding them over here at Egg Harbor.
They’ve crossed them and crossed them using
the Selected varieties every time, unti now
they turn out a lightning-bug big as a goose,
and bigger. I’ve seen ’em weigh from eighty
to ninety pounds, and carrying an illuminated
end that would make a locomotive headlight
look’like darkness—actually look as black as
ink.’

“ How do they raise them!”

“Feed ’em on mos uitoes. A healthy bug’ll
eat half a bushel of ew Jersey musquitoes at
a meal. Government employs boys to catch
the mosquitoes in traps in the swamps. They
keep the lightning-bugs in iron cages, on ac-
count of the heat. You put fifteen or twent
of ’em together and get ’em excited, and they’ 1
make it so hot in the cage in the coldest day in
winter that the keepers have to put ice around
the cages to prevent them from melting.”

“How about the light-houses?”

“ When the Government wants to start a li ht-
house they make a requisition for a bug, an be
is carried off in a cage, with a be to stand be-
hind and fan his fireworks so’s to eep ’em cool.
Then they put him on top of the light-house and
set him at work. If he doesn’t flash his light
often enough, the man tickles him under the
wing with a hoe-handle, or something, and
when he persists in working in the daytime, the
keeper has to mesmerize im to prevent him
from undermining his constitution. ’

“ Wonderful,” said Mr. Anderson.

“I had no idea of such a thing,” said Mr.
O’Brien.

The skipper seemed encouraged to go on and
try to do so a little better.

“ Yes,” said he, “ the whole thing is very cu-
rious. Now you wouldn’t believe how long that
light-house over there is?”

“ How long is it?”

“Well, about eight or nine hundred yards.
Possibly longer.”

H No?”

“Yes. You see, they began to build it in
1809. But the foundation was soft over on the
beach there, and so the structure gradually
sunk away. In about two years the. lantern
was only six feet above the ground. They had
to build right on top of it, and as that made it
heavier, of courseit sunk further. One night
the keeper accidentally overslept himself, and
when he woke up the lantern was beneath the
surface of the sand. It took nearlya whole day
to dig him out. And so, you know, the Govern—
ment went on adding to the light-house year
after year, and the building kept on sinking,
until now you can go down-stairs in that light-
house well on to a mile toward the center of the
earth. The inspector told me they would con-
tinue to build, just to see where it would go to.
The board. I understand, rather expects ulti-
mately to strike China, and to bring about an
arrangement for having the whole of our tea-
trade with that country done up and down the
stairs of that light-house! Be rough on the Pa-
cific railroads, won’t it!”

“ Most extraordinary thing I cver heard of,”
exclaimed Mr. Anderson.

“ I can hardly believe it,” said Mr. O’Brien.

“ I don’t ask you to believe it,” said the skip
per. “ I’m only giving you the facts, and you

 

can do what you please with them. Now,
there's the Barnegat light; that was not built

for a light-house. it was put there by acou-
vulsion of nature.”

6- How ?”

“ Why, there was a man lived on that spot
named William McGuigan, and he wanted to
sink a.well. He had to go two hundred and
thirty—seven feet before he struck water; then
he bricked the well in and was satisfied. One
night, thirteen months later, there was an earth-
quake along the coast here, and many supposed
it was caused b volcanic action, for in the
morning when cGuigan went out to get a
pitcher of water for breakfast, he found that
his well had been shot up out of the ground and
was standing at that very minute two hundred
and twenty-six feet above the surface of his back
yard! Subsequently he went to Indiana to live
With his wife’s mother, and he sold the well out
to the Lighthouse Board, who put a staircase
and a couple of bugs in it, and to-day it’s the
finest light on the Jersey coast.”

“It is queer,” said Mr. Anderson, “that no
notice of so remarkable an occurrence should
have appeared in the papers.”

“The papers!” exclaimed the skipper, con-
temptuously. “It's mighty little they know
about what goes on down here! Did you eyer
see in any of them an account of the death of
Thomas Shanahan, the kee er of the Absecom
light, a few years ago? ell, sir, one night,
w ile Shanahaii was in the lantern, four flights
of stairs fell away from the top, and Shanahan
was very much worried how to get down.
When morning came he got desperate. He took
the lightning-bug out of the lantern, straddled
himself on its back, and stuck his penknife into
it to make it fly.”

“Did he get down safely?”

“He got down, but one leg rested accidental-
ly against the hot end of the bug, and when he
reached the ground his leg was burned to a
crisp, and he died in two hours. The bug flew
over into the pines of Atlantic county, and set
fire to eight hundred thousand dollars’ worth of
timber.”

“Awful!” ejaculated Mr. Anderson.

“Those keepers have a hard time, anyway,”
said the skipper, as he jammed his helm hard-
a-port. “I know one of ’em, over here at
Long Beach, that is ruined for life—absolutely
ruined.”

(I How?”

“Why, he’s been going up and down those
light-house stairs for twenty-two years, four
times a day, and sticking close to his work,
taking no other exercise. What’s the conse-
quencol Consequence is that he can’t walk
straight to save his life! Forgotten how. He’ll
make fifteen or twanty circles in going across
a street, and on Sundays he has to start one
hour ahead of his wife, because he has so much
further to go; and even then, very often,
church is half ovor and the collection taken up
before he gets into his pew. I’ve known that
man to walk eleven miles in going a distance
of three quarters of a mile, and the queer thing
about it is that when he stands still it makes
his head swim. Even his bedstead is swung on
a pivot and revolved by clockwork. Says he
must have it or he can’t sleep a wink.”

Mr. Anderson and Mr. O'Brien said nothin
in reply, but they looked very thoughtful, anfi
even sad, as the skipper dropped the sail and
came alongside of the pier. He carried the
joke a little too far.

 

 

Casual Mention.

 

“MARIAN. the Amazon Queen,” is now ex-
hibiting in Glasgow. She isa native of Ger-
many. seventeen years of age and over eight
feet high. When the charming Marian marries
and calls upon her husband for an adequate
sealskin sacque, there will be a circus indeed.

LAKE CITY, Fla., is in a great ferment over
the action of a young attorney. The limb of
the law discovered that there was a flaw in the
title to a large portion of the land 11 on which
the city is built, and going to the United States
Land Office, entered the land as public do-
main.

A CARPENTER at Shamokin Pa., says he has
liVed on bread and hot water for seven years at
a cost of forty cents a week. He is sixty-five
years of age, nearly six feet tall and weighs
175 ounds. He is in excellent health, works
her every day, and says he will live to be 125
years old.

UNDOUBTEDLY the most complete game of

ker on record is the one recently played by
Willis Kissee and Jack Kellogg, at Gunnison
Col. Each held three of a kind, each reached
for the stakes, each promptly pulled out a pis-
tol because the other reached, both fired and
both fell dead.

A MOVEMENT in England has for its object
the abolition of the action for breach of prom-
ise. Such suits are alleged to have become so
numerous that their influence is demoralizing,
and the justice obtained by the action has be-
come insignificant in comparison with its de—
moralizing results.

THERE are at the present time over fifteen
hundred sawmills in the United States making
lumber, but the statement is made by a journal
devoted to the lumber interest that there are
not now in all of them a hundred first-class
fliers and sawyers, while there are over a thou-
sand millmen who are willing to pay first-class
men all the wages they ask.

AT the recent annual meeting in Scotland of
the Northern Accident Insurance company, the
chairman stated that they had abandoned all
risks in connection with football and bicycling.
The risk was so great that the ordinary pre-
mium would not cover it. The present policies
of the kind were nearly run out, and they had
determined not to renew them.

KLEIN induced McCue to drink three pints
of whisky on a wager, at San Antonio, Texas.
The feat proved fatal. McCue’s widow sued
Klein for damages, and got a Verdict of $3,000.
On appeal, the Supreme Court confirms the
jury’s conclusion. The ruling was that, as the
drinker was so intoxicated as to be incapable
of consent at the time of swallowing the third
and killing pint, the man who made him do it
was responsible.

THE evidence seemed overwhelming against
Edward Johnson, a colored man, on trial for
burglary in Batavia, Ohio. His trial had lasted
four days, and the audience in court thought
him sure to be convicted. He asked permission
to speak and talked for forty-five minutes. He
fairly tore to pieces the State’s network of ev1
dence, plunged most of the jurors in tears,
amazed the Court, captivated the audience,
and made a speech which the Cincinnati papers
say has no smile] in rude eloquence Since the
days of Chief Red Jacket. He was acquitted.

AN old guide from the Lake Pleasant coun-
try says that three white deer have been cap-
tured in the Adirondacks. Two were caught
by William Courtney, an old hunter, in the
deep snow near Piseco Lake. One was a good-
sized doe, accompanied by her fawn. A bro-
ther of Courtney caught, in the same way, a
fullsizcd white buck. The fawn has died, but
the other two animals are doing well. They
are on exhibition, and excite much interest
among hunters and guides, who say that they
are the first specimens of the kind ever discov-
ered in that neighborhood.

THE Quakers of Logan county, 0., do not
now worship with the quietude usual to their
denomination, but are holding revival meetings
of an exceedingly demonstrative character.
Noah McClain, the evangelist who has brought
them into such a state of excitement, is a negro.
He is described as a wonderfully magnetic ora-
tor. The daily exercises last, with brief inter—
missions, from ten o'clock in the morning uni 11
past midnight. The wildest of camp-meeting
scenes are here exaggerated. Peculiar attacks
of coma are, common among the converts. . One
young man. an a'hcist. defiant and shockingly
profane, fcll suddenly insensible, and lay so for
two days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Bantams 

Published every Monday morning at nine o’clock.

 

NEW YORK, APRIL 5, 1884.

 

Bmm’s WEEKLY is sold by all Newsdealers in
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Parties unable to obtain it from a Newsdealer, or
those preferring to have the paper sent direct, by
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subscription. Subscriptions can start With any late
number. . I

TAXI: NOTICE—In sending money for subscription,
b mail, never inclose the currency except in a re-

tered letter. A Post Office Money Order is the

1: form of a remittance. Losses b mail Will be
almost surely avoided if these directions are fol-
lowed. p I

WA“ communications, subscriptions, and let-

ters on business should be addressed to
BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS,
98 WILLIAM Sun. NEW YORK.

 

 

STARTS IN OUR. NEXT ISSUE!

A Knight of Labor;

JOB MANLY’S RISE IN LIFE.
BY CAPT. FRED. WHITTAKER,

AUTHOR OF “JOHN ARMSTRONG, MECHANIC,"
“ NORMAN CASE, PRINTER,” ETC.

 

Another speaking story of work life and strug-
gle—of man and master—of handy hands and
sturdy purpose—of country boy fighting his
way in the world, with a hammer and Will, and
out of whose step by step from the village
blacksmith-shop to the proprietorship of a great
carriage manufactory is taught

A Splendid Lesson With a Big Moral

that, to the young American mechanic, will be
a kind of revelation. '

As a romance of workingman’s life it is ex-
ceeding full of interest, both personal and as-
sociate. In Job, the rough, untutored, hard-
headed, almost desperate apprentice, the read-
er literally has a rough diamond which takes
severe cutting to bring out the facets of a fine
character. That

A Woman Does It

does not lessen the young blacksmith’s heroism,
nor detract from the great workman‘s achieve-
ments; and we know the audience interested in
Captain Whittaker‘s previous creations will
give this new work a cordial greeting.

 

The Wide Awake Papers.

‘The Facts of the Case.

SHE wanted to be the legalized captain of a
steamboat; and so she was forced to apply for
a captain‘s license and thereby stir up a whole
cyclone of newspaper gossip, official opinions,
and masculine criticisms. In the end, however,
having passed a capital examination, she re-
ceived a certificate and is free to spend her days
running a steamer. In announcing this result
a leading newspaper adds: “And we are not at
all afraid that this recognition of her right to
engage in an occupation for which she has
proved her fitness will have the effect of ‘ un-
sexing ’ her, or of opening the door for a dread-
ful feminine raid upon masculine avocations.”
To which we reply—Amen!

Much of the talk about this little incident
has been absurd in the extreme; and yet it has
very fairly shown up the difference between
men and men—selfish men and generous ones,
thinking men and illogical ones, manly men
and prigs. There has been so much .satire ex-
pended by the men who did not believe a wo-
man could possibly pass the examination neces-
sary to the securing of a license, and who Were
convinced that if she did she would run a
steamer ashore or “blow it up” on her first
trip; and so much pitying energy exercised by
the menwho insist that no woman can have
the strength or executive ability necessary to
such a position and the control of rough em-
ployees; and so much idiotic sentiment ex
pressed by the men who sigh for fear a female
captain will become “unsexed ” by her occu-
pation, will set a horrible example to the fe-
male world, and will generally lower the
standard of man’s “ great regard "and “sincere
devotion” for women. and his “admiration of
the female character,” and his “ elevated con-
ception of its dignity and, loveliness ”—to quote
the tender language of the solicitor who refused
the would-be captain a license; and so much
fright exhibited by the selfish men who ini-
mensely prefer that women should lead a life
of shame, or die of starvation, than that any
honest livelihood should be opened to them in
the pursuit of avocations popularly looked up-
on as essentially masculine.

Such a waste of words and emotions is extra-
vagant and pitiful; especially when it might
have been avoided by a less superficial know-
ledge Of the exciting cause. The facts of the
case are these: The newly licensed female
captain was the wife of a steamboat captain.
It was by constant companionship and asso-
ciation with her hUSband that she became an
adept in all the duties of his position. She was
in the habit Of relieving and assisting him, and
when he became sick and incapacitated for
work she, like a true and helpful wife, assumed
all his duties, nobly worked for and supported
him, gave perfect satisfaction to employees
and customers. and in every way filled a cap-
tain’s post ably and successfully. She was iii-
telligent and careful, an excellent commander,
and a good business woman; and she was not
only virtually but in point of fact a steamboat
captain for a long period before some techni-
cality made it necessary thather pOSItiou should
be recognized as a legal one by Virtue of a Cap-
tain’s license.

In the face of these facts, bow ridiculous are
the spasms of unhappiness into which men have

worked themselves over this matter. When
the application for the license was made
and aroused such a hubbub of sarcas‘
tic comment and indignant protest, it was
already a proved conclusion that a woman
possessed the requisite ability. strength, and
intelligence to be the cafifain of a steam—
boat and that she left to man ‘nd the mono oly
of running steamers aground and blowing t em
up! It had been proved that she could master
the intricacies of pilotage, the tricks of busi—
ness, and the obedience of subordinates. as Well
as a maul As for her being “ unsexed ” by her
occupation, or lowering the standard of femi~
iiinity, what is to become of married life with
its devotion, and its duties, and its love, and
its sacredness, ’if it unsexes a woman to be her

 

repeated that joke, you expired in a laugh, al-
though you had heard and read it a thousand
times too much before.

break out in the wildest laughter until they
were ashamed of themselves. just because that
thing would jump up in their minds, and folks
on the street would think they were clean off.

mine took it.
under the influence of chloroform and finally
succeeded in quie ting him, after a great deal of
trouble and anxiety among
friends.

first set the joke up—the only “ setting up ” he
ever did—laughed so much that he got the types
in upside down, and the proof—reader was put
so beside himself in reading the manuscript to
correct it, he forgot to look at the types and it the bear would not let her.
was originally printed upside down; even that
was funny and made people laugh.

once. and forty—two paragraphers claimed the
honor of writing it; some of them lived.

only know that I have never since been drawn

meet, his succor in times of weakness, and his
anchor in hours of trial? This female captain
was her husband’s constant friend, and com-
panion, and helpmeet, and so became familiar
with all the duties of his evocation. . She was
always ready to ass15t him, and when Sickness
and trouble came she simply carried on his
business for him. It is a pity that thousands of
husbands had not such wives! It would be a
lucky matter for both parties! .

And then men, after these years of Wifely
devotion, and busy toil, and merited success,
would fain wrest from her the means of making
an honorable and honest livelihood, because
she is a woman and to be the captain‘of asteam-
boat is a masculine evocation. Oh! shame on
them! Men, indeed? Not men, but selfish
c0wards! And they seek to shield their mean-
ness, their cruelty, their jealousy, under pretty
phrases about their “ admiration for the female
character ” and their “elevated conception
of its dignity and lovaliness.” But murder
will cut, and it generally transpires that the
men who indulge in this tender gush about wo-
men are the ones who are mean and brutal to
even the women bound to them b most
saCred ties. The men who are truest_ in their
families, and mOSt upright in their lives, are
the ones who say that whatever honest work
any woman can do to support herself, that she
hasa right to do; that no woman lowers her
womanhood or her sisterhood by pursuing any
honest avocation for which her peculiarities of
physique, tastes, talents, education, training,
and circumstances have fitted her; that it is
not a question of what work-a woman shall do,
but what work she can do; and what she can
do that she shall be allowed to do. Honest toil
of any kind is not likely to unsex an honest wo-
man; and the women will be rare indeed who
will choose the arduous and responsible position
of a steamboat captain, while other and easier
walks in life are open to them: but when one
grows up in such a life, is hemmed in by it, and is
better fitted for it than for any other, would any
man who was not intrinsically cowardly, jeal-
ous, mean, and cruel, lift voice or hand to
wrest from her her means of earning an honest
living? BELLE BRIGHT.

 

The Owl Papers.

A Memorable Pun.

SOMEBODY, in a thoughtless moment, has
written me to inquire what was the best pun I
ever framed and shingled.
The best pun I ever fathered was born about
twenty years ago. [ have forgotten what it
was now, but I well remember that everybody
got it like the measles. Some paragraphers
who took it and tried to pass it off as their own
met the most horrible fate. It was printed in
all the papers, and when a man read it in one
he would take up another paper to read it
again, as it did him so much good.
And, too, it was such a good-humored pun
that the other side of the paper in which it was
printed always drew up into wrinkles, and you
couldn’t iron them out if you tried ever so hard.
The wrinkles would come back.

It was in every man’s mouth like tobacco,
and it went the rounds like a. policeman, but,
unlike anything that is told from mouth to
mouth, it did not grow; it couldn’t grow; it was
about as big as you could get it from the start,
and they couldn’t magnify it in the least. It
was always a whole mouthful, and nobody but
a Crow Indian could expectorate a bigger.
It was, in fact, so big that it took afellow
with a large mouth and good lungs to utter it.
Several persons tryin to tell it got choked,
and I came near being indicted for man’s-
laughter.
Neighbors sat out on the fence the coldest
nights and told it to each other, and laughed
until they got redohot and sweat. It sent a
tidal wave of laughter all over this country and
stopped business. It was worse than an epi-
deniic.

One preacher got into the very solemnest and -
most pathetic part of his thirty. secondly in
which he expected to bring down the house, but
all at once he burst into such a 10059 fit of Ian h-
ter that the audience thought he had gone In-
sane. He cou-ldn’t stop, and when he told them
that a word in his climax had suggested that
pun to his mind, the whole solemn crowd broke
out into an uproarious ,roar, and several people
had to be taken out and resuscitated.

Instead of running around to their neighbors
and tellingthe latest thing out on somebody
else who was perfectly innocent, women went
about and told that joke; it completely stopped
the scandal business for a long time, and pre-
vented family fusses to a large extent. .
One Cyoung man was passionately expressing
his un ying love and constancy to a young lady
and asked her hand in marriage, when, all at
once or twice. she laughed right in his face in
the wildest manner. He was completely set
back about ten years, and in his despair was on
the sharp point of rushing from the house and
ending his hopeless existence with whisky,
when she managed to explain between laughs
that something he had said in his speech made
her think of that pun, and that it was no fault
of hers that she had treated him discourteously.
They married and have ten children.

It got to rolling over in people’s minds and
mashed out everything else. They tried every-
thing to get it out but failed. Some, however,
succeeded with the aid of shotguns, but the
men wasn’t much account afterward.

A poor, forlorn man returned home from the
funeral of his devoted wife and threw himself
down into a chair in his despair, and wasabout
to give vent to his feelings when his eyes sud-
denly fell on that joke lying on a paper; he
read it and immediately went off into h ysterics
and rolled over the floor in convulsions of
laughter. His mother-in-law came running in
on hearing the laughter, and so shocked was
she, thinking he was rejoicing over the demise
of her darling daughter, with the prospect of
having-herself to leave the house, that she be-
gan to pound him with the other end of a
broom and great vehemence, but the poor fel-
low couldn’t stop long enough to explain, and
they had to call in three men to sit on him and
keep him still. He finally recovered, but was
never the man he used to be.

It was terrible in boarding-houses. In the
quiet of the night, when the quiet boarder had
succeeded in getting the memory of the slim
supper off his mind and was about to get to
sleep, a roar of loud laughter would burst out
in the room above or on one side, and all
chances of sleep would slide; as a. consequence
the boarding-houses were almost depopulated.
Generally when a man comes running in and
tells you a joke that you have read before, and
laughed all the laugh off of it. you get mad and
kick him out; but when a fellow came in and

 

PeOple going along the street would suddenly
A very worthy and sedate Quaker friend of
He got it bad, but they got him

his family and
“ I might say just here that the printer who

Newspapers printed it two or three times at

How [survived it I cannot now explain. I

 

husband’s companion, his best friend, his help-

on the petit jury.

SOLOMON SHINGLE.

three-year-old daughter ride upon his horse,

later he found that the little one had not re-

had last seen her he found bear-tracks in the
sand. A posse was formed, and all night was
spent in searching for the lost child. In the

spot where the undergrowth was thick, they
heard her voice.
to come out of the bus es, but she replied that

through the brush, and when near the spot
heard a splash in the water, which the child
said was the bear.
upon a log, extending half-way across the
swamp, and it seemed as though the bear had it
undertaken to cross the swamp on the log, and
being pursued left the child and got away as
rapidly as possible.

More about the Cmur d’Aleue Placer.

IT is Very evident that, as we stated last
week, the Coeur d’Alene gold mines in Idaho
are now being industriously “ boomed,” and the
usual number of enthusiasts are visiting news-
paper oflices in the Northwest, with wonderful
specimens of virgin gold, which they have casu-
ally picked up. The Coeur d’Alene region is so
inaccessible, however, that few except the hardi-
est miners have been able tovisit it. Roads are
being constructed by means of which Eagle
City, the rincipal Settlement, may be more
easily reached; and doubtless during the com-
ing summer many gold-seekers will flock to this
town. The correspondent of the St. Paul Pioneer
Press states that, while there are many indica-
tions of gold, there are now thousands of men in
the settlement who can find ne'work. and are
on the brink of starvation. He advises all in-
tending prospectors to wait until the summer.
and then to come Well prepared with money
and provisions.

What the Esquimaux Eat.

DOCTOR ALLINSON, whose vegetarian dinners
and recipes have attracted so much attention
in London, says that the Esquimaux live on
fish and flesh from necessity. They eat as
much as eight pounds of flesh meat or tWelve
pounds of fish at a meal, says Doctor John Rae,
and a man who lived among them twenty years
says they usually die at from 35 to 45 of scrofu-
la, the women living about ten years more. He
knew of only two men living to be 70. The Es-
quimaux eat the green contents of the rein-
deer’s stomach. and in spring eat scurvy graSS,
wild turnips, wild vetch, wild oats, wild rice,
sorrel, docks, etc. In autumn they eat wild
prunes, blackberries, blueberries, crowbei'ries.
cranberries, etc. The women who gather these
berries eat more of them than the men, and
live longer in consequence, while the two men
who lived to be near 70 lived as much as pos-
sible on these green stuffs and fruits.

 

 

Natural Laughing-Gas in a. Tunnel.

THE great Sierra Tunnel at Tioga, 09.1., has
developed the resence in the indurated mud-
stone, silicious imestones, and arenaceous shales
of Tioga Hill of protoxide of nitrogen; the ex—
hilarating gas known as “laughinggas,” with
traces also of the nitrades commonly associated
with several of the metals. As is wellrknown,
the inhalation of protoxide of nitrogen produces
exhilaration to intoxication, an irresistible im-
pulse to muscular exertion, insensibility to pain,
and develops the characteristic propensities of
an individual to a striking degree. Air is forced
into the Great Sierra. tunnel through wooden
boxes, and the distance, leakage, and friction
being great, the supply was inadequate, and
hence the accumulation of the nitrous gas at the
header, the inhalation of which had the charac-
teristic effect upon those working there as soon
as one of them got an overdose. Bill Harring-
ton, a muscular miner, who had been talking of
‘meeting the “slugger,” Sullivan, on the boards,
was brought out fighting, and it took four men
to hold him until he returned to consciousness
in the open air. Redtingshafer, the snow-shoe
mail-carrier, went in and got a dose, and when
brought out seized a couple of bars of iron,
lashed them to his feet with wire, leaped over
the dump and went sailing down the mountain
over the snow. -

The New “ Strike.”

NOT a strike of dissatisfied workingmen, nor
the strike on a gold “ find,” but the bonanza
which the ghotographers have struck in getting
people to ave pictures taken. A reporter,
hearing of the bi possibilities of an “ agency "to
take orders for t iese pictures, went to a leading
manufacturer of the stock, in the also of a
possible taker of an agency. “ This is the boss
racket, and don’t you let it elude you,” said be.
“There ain’t a dwelling in the whole United
States that‘s not full of dingy old miniatures.
One~half the talk necessary to sell a yard of
lightning-rods or barb-wire fence will capture
an order for $50 worth of copying. The women
don’t require five minutes 0 persuasion, and
the men surrender just about as quick. It’s a
walkrover for the a ant—that’s what it is. He
pockets exactly hell the money on the orders
that he turns in. Do I think a novice can sue-
ceed at it? All you’ve got to do is to invest $6
in what we call an outfit; that is, some sample
pictures and a magnifying-glass. It’s the mag.
nifler that mostly does it. You get the woman
of the house to show you a small picture—a
memento of some deceased relative. Then you
make her look at it through the glass, to show
her how big it would be when enlarged. If
there are blemishes in iii—scratches, spots
rubbed 011', and what not—so much the better,
for you can safe] promise her that they will
all be repaired in t . 9 copy. As a finisher, you
can guarantee a bouquet in the hand, some a1:
teration in the dress, or any peculiarity of
complexion—and there you are.”

 

 

Winters Memorable for Cold.

PROBABLY the winter of 1741 was marked by
the deepest snow of any winter in this or the last
century, in New England, at least. What little
is known of it is only known from tradition.
but if this can be relied upon there has been
nothing to equal it since. And it was a savage
winter, too. The humble old farm-houses of
those days were said to have been buried to the
roofs in snow that lasted, with arctic weather,
all winter, killing much of the stock. Another
memorable one was the winter of 1780, which
froze Long Island Sound so completely that ar-
tillery was drawn from Connecticut to Long
Island. The winter of 1812, Napoleon’s fatal
winter, was a notably severe one on both sides
of the Atlantic, but more especially in Europe.
All very cold winters seem to be marked by
deep snows. The winters of 1821 and 1831, and
especially of 1835~6, were memorably seVere,
the snow lying deep and long. The winter of
1855—6 was a hard one, with deep snow, lasting
late into the spring. A snow-storm that came
not long after, or about the time of the glitter-
ing and splendid ice exhibition on the trees,
the morning after Christmas of that Winter,
made much trouble by its depth, extent, and
stopping of railroad trains and other vehicles -
in a1 parts of the Middle. Northern and Eastern
States. In January, 1867, a great snowstorm
occurred that buried New England completely, S
and greatly interfered with all kinds of travel,
and another at Christmas time, 1872, was a very
heavy one. The present winter of 1884 is not
to be sneezed at. Perhaps it may be due to the
increase of thermometers and telegraphs from
Nova Scotia to Behring’s Straits, but we are
hearing of such cold as was never heard of before
-—say forty-eight and fifty degrees below zero.

A Bear Story as “ Is ” a. Bear Story.

MR. GEORGE SWIFT, a ranchman in the Grand
Valley, Cal., tells a story which shows how un-
enviahle is the life of the stock—raiser in that
wilderness. A short time ago Mr. Swift let his
and after she had ridden about forty rods from
home he lifted her off the animal and told her
to run home. On returning about an hour

turned home, and going to the place where be ‘3

morning, as they were passing near a swampy

The called to the little girl

The men crept

They found her standing

She had received some

 

reached the door and saw a vast body of water,

the mountain-side, where he joined the Var-
nums, who had also made
reached a place of safety.

miracle» the house escaped injury. But the
cabin occupied by Mitchell was instantly de—
stroyed andall its- contents
Mitchell himself had a narrow escape. The

entered in Florida during the past year.

mosphere in the South. The climate is guaran-
teed to be a sure cure for everything except a
broken leg. .

on the London tramways.

nuisance and failed to prevent the peculations
of conductors.

delphia has given in five years Sunday break-
fasts to 37,898 persons.

meal religious service is held.

1,422 churches and schools during the last forty
years, and claim that their numbers are in-
creasmg three times as fast as the population.

tion of work in the iron mills, glass factories and fish HS 0 u h Lh t B .t . k
river coal mines at Pittsbur . ‘- . 7.9 'i s .m C ' S" a . "1.8”" was '“Own- “"9"
3" Pa ’ and the V1 in Saxon times, as ‘ the Ringing lsland.‘ "-There

Clmuy‘ “less resumptlons glve employment to are, already. over 600,000 miles of teleidiono wires in

many thousands of work-people.

sired effect in Nebraska.
the cities of Omaha and Lincoln have lost half
their saloons, while the decrease in the smaller
towns is said to be still greater.
for a license in cities and $500 in villages.

in the. manufacture of salts, and is the on] t
State in the Union where the distillation of

siderable extent. This industry has increased
rapidly during the last twenty years.
duction has risen from 44,000 bushels in 1860 to
upward of 880,000 bushels in 1883.

(lustries which attract little or no attention
from the busy world, but prove unusuallv re-
munerative to those engaged in them. -
year over 5,000,000 balls Were manufactured

in this country, and, as the makers have now a
larger number 0

season.

was $5,794.649, against $33,383,000 in 1882. and a
the cost of collecting it amounted to $6,622,755. 0
A table of foreign goods entered for home com be heartless mid snobbish to dro i “"1".
sumption shows that the Dominion’s trade with a
this country has increased from $47,735,678 to C-
356,032,333 in the past ten years, while that
with Great Britain has decreased i
period from $68,522,776 to $52,052,465,
ports from Canada during 188:} were valucd :it

scratches about the face, arms and legs, and her
clothes were almost torn from her body, but
the bear had not bitten her to hurt her, only
the marks of his teeth being found upon her
back, where he had taken hold of her clothes to
carry her. The child told her rescuers that the
bear had put her down Occasionally to rest. and
would put his nose up to her face, whereupon
she would slap him and he would hang his head
by her side and purr and rub against her like a
cat. Her father asked her if she had been cold
during the night, and she told him the old bear
lay beside her and put his “ arms ” around her
and kept her warm.

Machine Prayer.

11‘ is no joke. The Buddhists and certain Mon-
go] tribes do their praying by proxy—letlirg a
machine officiate. Printed prayeis are put into
a wheel and the person Who wishes to pray them
simply has to turn a handle attached to the wheel
and the prayers are considered to beduly offered.
The Mongols have patent family praying-ma-
chines; and oftentimes the aged grandmother,
who is unfit for any other work, is set .to grind-
ing out the prayers for the whole family. But
a better device even than this is now commonly
adopted. The praying-machine, filled With ‘the
requisite prayers, 13 connected with a_ Wind-
mill, which turns them safely and expeditiously,
thus saving all hand labor. Clockwork has also
recently been utilized to drive a cylinder filled
with prayers covering all possible human needs.
These facts show that the dreamy Oriental has
in his nature a larger strain of the practical
than he is generally credited with. The Baptist
Weekly ironically says: “ If such machinery
could be made effective, it might be in great de-
mand in this country. The much-maligned
mother-in-law might serve households where
family prayer is often omitted. It would be es-
pecial] useful in sustaining prayer meetings
through the warm season, where there are many
members who like to be ‘ at ease’ and not ‘ in
Zion,’ when the thermometer ranges high. For
churches taking a vacation for two or three
months, such an institution would render in-
valuable service. ”

 

 

Canyon Torrents.

IN our novels, occasional reference is made
to the tremendous force of the suddenly appear—
ing canyon or mountain torrents, throughout
all the Sierras and Rocky Mountain region. A
late incident narrated by the Los Angeles (Cal )
Times gives a vivid description of these calami-
tous visitations. In Sawpit Canyon dWelt two
families—rthose of a Mr. and Mrs. Varnum with
a. Mr. Howson as boarder, and a Mr. Mitchell.
One day, recently, when Mr. Howson was ly-
ing down reading, he suddenly heard an outcry
from Mr. and Mrs. arnum, who were inithe
kitchen, and immediately afterward a deafen-
ing roar. Starting up in great alarm, be

four or five feet in hight, coming down at a ter-
rific rate and sweeping all before it. In a min-
ute be bounded from the house and escaped to

good time and

The water swept past, and by almost a

swept away.

water came with such force that great trees
were uprooted and carried down on the current
and large rocks were displaced and rolled along
for quite a distance. In a few moments it was
all over; the waters subsided and the parties
went back to the house, when again the threat-
ening roar was heard and again they escaped
to the mountain-side gust in time to avoid the
water, which came own with even greater
force than before, but, strange to say, the house
was still not touched.

In the evening they returned. Shortly after

and when ' the

daybreak arrivod

The
packed up and left as hastily as pos-

“
Focused Pacts.

 

EIGHTEEN thousand homesteads have been

THE new Constitution of Montana forbids

-AIKEN, S. 0., claims to have the dryest at- 1

THE American bell-punch has been discarded
It was considered a

THE Sunday Breakfast Association of Phila-
At the close of each
THE Catholics of Great Britain have built t

THERE has been an almost general resump— ‘

t,
HIGH license laws seem to be having the de-
Since their adoption

It costs $1,000

CALIFORNIA stands fifth in the list of States t

alt from sea water is carried on to any con-

The pro—

TBE cattle-kings and lund-grabbers of Texas t,

BASEBALLMAKING is one of those quiet in

Ifilst

f orders than ever before. it is

stimated that 7,000,000 baseballs will be

CANADA’S revenue during the last fiscal year 0

d

The ex-

attributed to agricultural pi'o— ”

 

(A

trical machines. apply for a
Electric Light Company.
in its service are taught the theory and application
of electric lighting, and after tuition are
tions on its operating force.
Edison. 65 Fifth Avenue, N. Y. C
is too crude for book-keeping. Get a good set of
copy-books and practice.

"calm; quiet: peaceful; iindistiirbe
a noun it means the
said, in 's its eggs in nests on or near the sea. This
the bin does a i
that during her incubation (about fourteen days)
there is always a calm.
terén “halcyon (lays"-—qulct. happy days. Dryden
sai :

occasionally dissolve one in the mouth.
excellent for foul breath.
airing to cure such an evil.

wife’s side are all Romanists.
all Protestants.

mouth of the Rhine, bi‘t‘vf‘f'll it and ihc Wait].
Bniavians \VG‘I'C subject to the Romans until about
the. close of the third century, when they were con-
quered by the Franks.
called Dutch or llollundi-rs, formed the 1’.
Republic.
created the Kingdom of IIUllilllil. and made his bro-

tbrce. fourths of
lent and lll‘illilly

clean. sliiiiuliiles liicgrowlli of llie hair, strengthens
it, and urn-sis Ilh‘t'llallg‘t‘ of ('HIM‘

Correspnmleiiis’ Column.

[This column is open to all correspondents. ln-
quiries answered as fully and as promptly as cir-
cumstances will permit. Contributions not' entered
as “declined ’_’ may be considered accepted. No
MSS. returned unless stamps are inclosed.]

Declined. “ A Dime Heroz" "My Darling" "The
Last Express;" ‘A Roving Commission;” “Dick
Stark‘s Sacrifice;” “ Old-Time Peelers;” “ Mary the
Good;" “ A Second Selection "‘ “ Elbertina;" “Good
Stock to Own;" "A Boss ug;” “The Diamond
Mine;” “A Spring Game;" “Leaping Lady,“ etc.;
“ Work Not;” "Dr. ’l'heodore‘s l’ct;“ “ A Ministeri-
al Flier;“ "Indeed She Didi" "A Local'” "Go-
li htlyz” “Festive Jo;” “During Good Behavior;"
“ etween Acts ”

CcMPETITORs in the Prize Offer will please send
stamps at once for the return of the declined matter.

All matter unreclainied within 30 days will be de-
stroved.

R. J. W. S. No stamp inclosed for response about
your own affairs.

K. K. We are so overstocked with sketch matter
that we must decline your offer.

LONGFELLOW. We cannot “ ive reasons.” The
poem is simply not up to a goo poetic standard.

GREENHORN. Write to D. W. Junowilz, Passenger
Agent. 243 Broadway, N. Y., for pamphlet giving all
information you require about Texas.

G. A. The old Hem/d has no named value. It is
worth just what you can get for lt.-—In introducing
a boy of 17 it should be as "master," or slmpl us-
ing his iveii name:——“ Allow me to introduce us-
ter (or ‘eorge; Smith."

J. W. P., JR. We shall not republish the stories
named in one volume. Nor do we now deal In a
volume of “Old B0rdermen.”——If the young ady
has no satisfactory excuse to offendrop her ac-
quaintance, for her act was a great inclvil ty.

J. E. J. Tweed died in jail April 12th, 1873——
Oakey Hall is now practicing law in London.-—Don’t
know who is at present editor of Truth—A widow
is a “married woman " in a legal sense. She. can-
not legall abjure her husband’s name, and would
be liable or misrepresentation if she passed herself
off as a maiden.

W. F. L. For such problems as solid or square
inches in nantily. See any arithmetic for the sim le
rule. In tie lumber it is mad; 3'3; multiplied y
6911—15 fourths multiplied by 7 fourths==405 six-
teenths=25 and 5-16th square inches—Your bottle

roblem is no problem—only a matter of statement.
{Von fill the bottle by jib asking to fill it. '

C. A. W. Y0ur writing is very fair. (N. B. Al-
ways use ink in writing a letter.)-—To hold 32 pounds
out at arm’s len th is evidence of much arm-
strength.——Ten dol ars 510 week is medium w es
for an experienced cler '.—Skiu eru tions are no

either to gross food, indigestion or b ood impurity.

Find out which is the cause and correct it. Never
mind the skin; it will clear when you stop the inter-

nal trouble.

EUGENIE. Your friend having married, your
“claim ” on her may not be broken, but you must

admit the right of her husband to "monopolize
her.”

It is not “ absurd " for you to feel unhappy
about it, seeing that it proves the strength of your

own attachment for her; but you would be absurd
to blame her for not
tion and attention.
you were newly married, and be neither unjust not
unreasonable.

iving

on her old considera-
T inko

what on would do if

H. A. J. To learn the care and running of elec-
osition in the Edison
hose who are received

iven posi-
‘ homus A.
ity.—Your writing

Address

A. B. C. “Halcyon,” as an ad'cctive, means

:huppy." As
kingfisher, a bird which,” is

out the winter solstice, and it is said
From this fact came. the

“ Amidst our arms as quiet you shall be
As halcyon brooding on u. winli-r sea."

H. R. A. “Deadwood Dick “ was Dakota. Dick - a

real character on the Wyoming hills and plains.w
. We presume the IlOVI‘l iiuiiicd will be included in the
midnight the roaring was heard again. For "Pocket'H-dition —Tlicbi-st neurplnce forde
the third time the terrified peeple rushed for
their mountain stronghold,
reached it concluded that it should be their
resting-place for the remainder of the night,
and cold and miserable they waited for the
dawn to break. No further cloud-burst oc-
curred, and when at: last
there was a picture of desolation on every side.
The country was torn up for miles and the'can-
yon presented a most forlorn appearance.
house still remained,‘and making their way
back they
sible, walking all the way to the Duarte, where
they secured a conveyance to town

It and

snipe shooting is on Long Island; for bigger nine,
in the. Adirondacks: for pm'lrldgcs and quail}
Catskills—all of course in the
giod rifle will cost from $20 to $40.-—l’ersons usually
stop growing about the age of 20, but cases are
known where the growth continues several years
more.

u the
r legal season.~ A

There is no way to prevent this growth.
R. C. 1. Yes. 2. Add four tenspoonfuls of

strong hartshorn to a quart of hike-warm waterand
wash
them well, and put them
dissolves all the grease and cleanses them thorough—
ly. 3. Etching acid, for biting steel,
mixing four parts of acetic acid with one art of
spirits of wine.
acid.
ceed half an ounce in weight.
tralia, Ma San Francisco, is twelve cents; rla Brin-
disi, fifteen cents.

your brushes an combs in it. Shake and wipe -

iii the open air tlo dry. This
is made by

Afterward add one part 0 nitric
4. Letters to Asiatic countries must not ex—
The postage to Aus-

DISTRESSED BEAU. We can ive you no advice

about the removal of the mole rom your face. You
should consult a physician about it; but we can tell
you that a round or oval mole, not so large as to be
a deformity, u on a fair face. is considered a.
any legislator or State official receiving a rail- v
road pass.

‘beauty mark. ’ Upon your ruddy skin, the little

mark ought to be counted an individual beauty
rather than a blemis .—Kcep on hand the tiny tab~

ets of chlbrate of potash sold by all druggists and

They are
You are quite right in de-

Gus'uvm. You can take out the grease in this

way: Wet a clean bit of cotton cloth in water, and
squeeze it well dry, and lay this over the spot.
der the spotted material should be a. clean towel,
folded four-thick. Put half a dozen small red cin-
ders on the damp cloth and gather it up with a
string like an indigo-bug; then (lab this bug of cin-
ders a dozen times ii on all the grease-spots.
will be completely e
composiii
and refol the under towel occasionally, as some of

Un-

They
need, the heat and steam do-
the grease or 011. Be careful to shift

he grease may go through upon it.

OLIVER 0. General ,Sherman‘s family on the
The. Sheriiians are
He has a son who is u priest—The
‘Rlnging Island” was England. it is said that
‘ from very early ages England has been famous for

his country: and it is estimated that8ll,000,000 com-

munications are sent over them annually. This is
almost marvelous, considering that the first success-
ful use of the telephone was not until 1877.

QI'ESTIONER. Epsom salts in water is an antidote

for poisoning by sugar of loud. and olive or castor
Oil for _carbollc acid—The Batavians were. a. people
of anoieiit (ii-rniiiny. They inhabited that part of

he European continent now known as Holland, but
hen called Batavorum lnsula. from an island at the
The

In mm uwn- iiixsmuianto,

_ V illuvinu
Eight years lute-r, Napoleon Bonaparte

her, Louis Boniipiii'ie, its king.

are charged with appropriatingextensive fmots ..§‘ifil.i’.‘.§§2.‘li2‘riiili-lli‘iif}§ii‘ii9.1T.""!’L"“’""=.T'i'i‘y
pf Government lands Without paying for them. system~sulphutc 3f iron iwiil‘u grit}; ‘|::-‘rl"”lqi‘-)silll‘j
I‘hey purchase strips of land a mile wide which Shiiv. nitric lu'lll, which is." ‘mwoi'l'ul titlmfnh! i-li-
extend around enormous central squares of pub. ei-p your head scrupulous y i'li-uu, brush it (‘ll'lt‘ll
no property. The u lm,(l_g,.abber lputs a fence and vigorouslv, iiiiil amid ull dyes, and you will find
only on the outside boundary of hiS Strip, but that. your hair will be inui-li iiiiprovvd. .\ iiiixlu'c
grazes on the whole of it to the exclusion of (j.  “"3: “.f .‘i‘ll'l' “."r“"““ ‘f""‘ "31” """""." “"W"
other settlers _ (in ouuii ), swi ct oil (one piiil l, Inn-lure ill lobclui

- (one-half (ii-:ii'hiul. (ill of boi'guiimt UN“) drops), and

:1 pint of alcohol, iimki-s an excel-
linimlrossing. Ii; keeps the scalp

KiNC SKIS. When two people marry—Anni! onc‘s

social position is much superior to the other—— the
0"“ “1‘05? WNW)" in life. was the iiifi-riorone should
drop such acquaintances us would be. undesirable in

. the new life. or offensive to the ucwlv married i-iini-
knocked into the great nowhere the coming Daniofl- Till I I

and loyalty.
should be ilriippcil just because of poverty.

s requires much tuct, justice, honesty,
For instance, no mie‘s uci'luuiutunvo
. If your
ld friends wore poor, but intelligent and refined
nd on had been for long intimate with them, am
we( them it debt of hospitality and love, it would
‘ lint such
cquuintuiiccs us had been forcei ll ion you by oil‘—
uuistniices, people for whom you c icrislicd no of—

fection, and association with whom would be. most

istusteful to the one you had Illal'l‘ll'd, can be and

n the same should be dropped from your (‘ll'('lt‘ of friends. It

is not necessary to out ii pcrsi Ill in km p him iii a dis‘

w . lance.

98,080 000, against $102,137 ‘20:} in 1882 the (I ~ mm m 37”""9‘ ""r "SSOCMU‘ w
. i . B

crease being

d616,“, which Show a falling Off of over $8,000,- you know him ciiimot uiinoy any one.

If you do not \‘iSll‘ at his house, nor invitn

I I . illi liiiii beyond u how
f recognition. when you lllf’t‘ti 11ml puss him, that

Where tin-re
iiiim, it is quite

 

is a wedding with cards and u rem-E
.

 

 

 

asy to regulate onc‘s future t'lllflt‘n' acquaintances. ,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
    
   
  
      
        
        
     
  
       
       
   
     
  
  
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
   
 
 
  
  
 
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
   
 
  
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
  
  
 
 
  
    
   
  
  
  
   
  
 
   
  
    
  
 
   
   
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
   
   
 
 
  
 
  
  
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
   
   
    
    
   
  
  
  
 
  
   
    
    
  
  
  
 
 
   
     
  
  
  
  
 
 
  
   
 
   
  
  
  
   
 
  
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
   
   
 
  
 
 
  
   
   
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
    
    
  
  
  
 
  
  
    
 
   
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
 
 
 
  
    
  
  
  
   
  
  
 
   
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
 
  
 
  
  
 
 
  
  
 
  
  
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

   
  
  
     
 
       
  
     
    
   
      
    
   
     
   
   
    
 
    
     
     
      
    
    
      
  
   

 

 

 

 

 

 
    
   
  
 
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

W'Ihl‘il‘ .i. lily

 

 

 

Fireside Ballzds.

‘0.— e we

“THE CHILD SEAT LEFT US.”

IlY AL. W. (‘ROWELL.

 

I shall never forget it while I live!
e were seated there in the fire‘s red glow,
Silent and sad, and a shroud of gloom
Hung over a chairjust at my side,
The only empty chair in the room
Where Dora sat but a year ago~
The child who left us but never died!

I glanced across with an aching heart
Where wife sat knitting. sad and still;
The flickering shadows rise and fall
(lasting her image at my feet
And shivering our lines on the wall.
Does she think of Ilie dead babe under the hill?»—
Or Dora‘s lost face, fair and sweet?

Of what is she dreaming. knitting there ?—

The girl that was ours but is ours no more ?—«
About her lips there‘s a line of pain

And her e es are dim with a tearful mist
That will ta 1, I fear, in a sudden rain!

()h, me dear. dead days that were ours before
The lips were sullied that ours have kissed!

The shutter moved by a winter wind,
Swa s and swings in mournful tones;
The b ast howls drearin just outside,
And we do not speak but only muse
Of the child who left us but never died
Who passed ‘neath the maples‘ gentle moans,
Out into the night damp and the dcwsl

I cursed them then; would I curse her now
Were sh‘e back again in her corner there ?—
The God will judge, I never can.
This handsome stranger who took her away.
This travesty on the name of Man !—
And left what sorrow God can say
And hearts as empty as Dora’s chair!

Ah, me! ah, me! that bitter quarrell—-
What anger flashed from her limpid eye!
“ I love. him! ’ she cried, “ and he loves me 1"
“Then take him and go!” lsullenly said:
“ Be what you will, you are nothing to me!"
“ I go !‘ — and she raised a proud young head—
“ But not as you tliink!”—and then—“ Gtod'byf”

I had mused thus far on the bitter past,

And had watched my wife‘s face, pained and
white.

Who was dreaming erchance of a lost caress
From the. girl who eft us but never died,

When the wind, like a lost soul in distress
Flung open the door. and just inside

A Form stood outlined on the Night!

I knew her at once! That pallid face,
Thin and wan was the same. I knew,
That had lit our home in the days gone by,
And my heart gave one grand, mighty ound
And then stood still! Oh. Godt—and 1
Sprun tip and without word or sound
Motione her out where the wild blast blew!

" Dora!” m wife cried, and her voice
Had sue a thrilling, passionate ring!
“ Famine mafia/1w!” the pale li s said;
“ Be off! you are not my chil I" cried 1—-
She fell at my feet like one struck dead;—
On her outstretched hand I did descr
The gla (1, gold gleam of a wedding-ring.

We raised her then, oh, tenderly,
Our erring child, who was ours again,
And the chair is empty no more, no more
And the child who left us but never die
Entered—a widow—her father’s door,
Filling the hearts that with sorrow si hed
With joy and gladness that had been p in!

Bullion Bret;

The Giant Grip of Git-Thar.

A Tale of Sllvcrland.

 

 

BY ii. I: WHEELER,

Au'rnoa tor "DEADWOOD ruck,” “amnsxm SAM,"
liiTU., are, are.

CHAPTER III.
static su.vrcusMiru AGAIN.

Tum words of the Mormon elder caused a greater
expression of uneasiness to come upon the face of
Jeptha Jamison, while Virgie drew back, terrified
too much to give utterance to protest.

“ You speak strangely, sir!” Jamison managed to
say. “You do not know what you say,ev1dently.
My daughter shall nerer go with you, su‘!”

“ Oh! yes, she will !" Primrose retorted, confident-
ly. “ She will accompany me without dcmur if she
knows when she is well off." I

“I’ll not do anything of the kind, you mlserable
wretch!” Virgie spoke up, defiantly: “If you take
me for a fool, you miss your reckoning. Leave our
premises, sir, or it will be the worse for you l”

Primrose laughed grimly. I

“ Oh! I guess not, my beauty!” he said, evrdIently
having no fear of un leasant results, “ It is not
likely. after having bro en in a dozen Wives, I should
be intimidated by a tame little filly like you. I I have
decided to make you the thirteenth Mrs. PI'lII’lI‘OSP,
and once I settle my mind on a thingI'm notthe one
to let a little female squeamishness balk my plans.
You know the power I possess, and that my W111 IS
law here in Git-Thar. It is my will to make you my
most cherished wife, Virgie Jamison, and therefore
it will avail you nothing to be stubborn, as I shall
possess you in spite of all you can say or do. Do
you understand?”

“ I do not understand!” Virgie responded, her
eyes flashing. “If you think this IS a country
where on can compel one to marry against her
free wifi, you will be disappointed when you try to
work the game on me. Once more, su‘, I command
you to leave our premises 1” I

“ But I refuse until you bundle up your wearing
apparel, and accompany me back to my home,
where my wives will receive you With great eclat.’_’

"Undoubtedly they would were I to 30m them in
their misery and disgrace. But, as it happens, I am
not so inclined. Do you see this, sir? Please under-
stand, you Mormon beast, that we are not so de-
fenseless as you ima inc. Go! If you linger here
five. minutes more, I ll send a bullet through your
festerin heart; and I know the Gentiles Will uphold
me for oing so!”

She held a pistol in the gras
and it was not for Primrose to
would do as she threatened. I
He lairin saw that she was a far different style
of git-ll) from what he had expected, but her plucky
resistance only fired him with a greater determina-
tion to possess and conquer her.

“ You had better put up that weapon!” he growl-
ed. “ Remember, I amInot the sort of a man to be
tritlcd with, and you and your old scarecrow of a
parent shall suffer for your obstinacy !”

“ IV“! we? That remains to be provenl YouI had
better start. When I count three I fire!” Virgie
cried. “ One—”

“Stop! I will go,”assented the MormonI Elder
“hilt you need hope for but a short reprieve. I
Swear you shall be mine and that, too, ere many
hours pass by. Then I’ll reak youI in, my filly, as
the mountaineer breaks in the buckin cayuse. I ll
also turn your beloved parent there over to theIlaw
that reaches forth to grasp him. Ha! ha! aprecious
pair you are, in fancied security here; you httle sus-
pected that the record of your past would follow
you even here. Good-day l” I I

He shook his list at them, and, turning on his heel,
left the yard and walked back toward the mining-
cam ), his face stern and set in a Satanic expressron.

“’ he infamous wretcli!” Virgie cried, indignant-
lv. “ Why, papa, I’ve a mind to follow him and
shoot him, as it is !" I I

“ No! no! my child. Do not do anything lIikc
that!” old Jeptlia answered. his voice trembling
with emotion. “ lie is a very bad man, and we are
wholly at his mercy. Oh! that we had never come

-re !" I
lu‘d’shaw! I‘m not afraid of that polygamous pi-
rate, papa. If he bothers us any more he I! not get
off so easy as he did just now!” I

“You i’brget, child. He rules this town, and, as
he says. his will is law, for no one darIcsIstanId up
and dis into his authority. 'I‘hen, too,II1t is evrdent
he has learned something of the past!

A troubled look came upon \I’irgre s face, and she
knelt beside the old man’s chair, and gazed earnest-
]y‘l‘ltglitfldlt'llier, why will you not tell me whatI is this
secret that has made us both outcasts, and is war-
rying you into the grave? Please tell me, father:

I “No, no, child—I cannot—I cannot. It would do
you no good to knotIv, and IOIEaInnOt tell 3011- D0

. e. to a rain we. v . I .
110‘?  iflyou wgaould orlily {ell me I could lighten the
burden from your sliouldgiIs,IIfather. I could, per-
..s ever thin to rig s. ’ I
ha‘Plilmeiio! tliat wguld not be possrble. The secret
Imust keep, and it shall follow me down Ito tthe
grave. We must, however, prepare to leave I IS
plchliitfonfe'” l t say so l”

‘ atier,(ono...‘.

“ It  ncceSSary for us to go. You heard what the
Mormon villain said. He is not only determined to
force you to become his wife, but threatens me.
He must know some part, or all of my secret, or else

of her right hand,
oubt but that she

 

 

he would not. speak as he did. In order to escape
his persecutions it is necessary that we escape while
there is time.”

“ Oh, father, this all seems so strange to me
once before we had a fur cosier home than this, but
this accursed mystery caused you to abandon it and
fly to these distant parts. Now again are '0" called
upon to fly like a guilIy culprit. The ot ier viine I
made no objection, but this time I do. Refuse to
explain the mystery to rue if you choose. but I sav
no secret, nor no my sterious power shrill again break
up our home. I am your daughter, and am strong
and brave. Let the enemies come! 1 will u eet them
{ind fight them to the death, but we shall remain
ie‘ e
I She spoke with a tragic tire that proclaimed an
indomitable resolu ion, that. argument could not
break.

II Jeptha Jamison gazed at her in surprised admira-
ion.

It was something new of her, to spunk up in this
manner—she, who was invariably so quiet, sweet,
and even-tempered.

“My child, you know not what you say. If you
but knew the terrible significance attached to our
remaining here any longer, you would not for an in~
stant counsel such a thing."

“'t dOes not matter. I shall remain, and I am
sure you could not go without me. Do not think
me hard-hearted. father, but I mean to stand firm,
and beat our enemies at their own game. even if
there has to be some shooting done. So dismiss all
thoughts of trouble from your mind, until trouble
comes-then your 'jcwel ’ will he prepared to cope
With it. in a warlike manner that will totally conquer
and demoralize it, you bet 1"

“ Good, by Jove! ~ bravely spoken, or I’m a
burro ."’ cried a hearty voice, and astranger stepped
around one corner of the cabin, where he had evi-
dently been playing eavesdropper. “ And, my dear
young lady. if you re not able to handle the job all
alone, here‘s a strong right arm belonging to a big-
hearted mountain MiCHh, who would be only too
glad of the honor to strike in behalf of one so young
and fair as the daughter who would not shrink from
facin 1* her father‘s foemen !”

Bot Virgie and old J ep'lia started, and gazed at
the speaker with curiosity not unmixed with appre-
hensron.

He was a man of good figure, and in face rather

repossessing, his eyes being dark and magnetic.

e wore an impIerial, mustache, and long wavy hair,
which touched is shoulders, and all of a light-brown
co or.

He was attired in a business suit, a slouch hat
upon his head, and had the general appearance of a
31%]: who would be a formidable antagonist in a

g i .

He wore no weapons in his belt, however, and did
not in articular have the bearing of a border
“sport.’

As they saw him, old Jeptha and Virgie could but
be rather favorably impressed with his appearance.

" We are very much obliged to you, I am sure, for
your kind offer, but I do not anticipate that I shall
need any assistance. sir,” Virgie responded, answer-
ing the stranger’s declaration.

‘ If you do, I shall be only too proud of the honor

i'!

5 I ,‘
I’ll”;
i’ir



l

-
.-

‘-
:.-

‘1

“When I count three I fire!” Virgie cried. “ One—” “Stop! I will go l” assented the Mormon Elder.

of espousing your cause,” the stranger replied, bow-
ing gallantly. “I overheard the Mormon rascal's
threats, and as I am on my way to Git-Thar, I’ll take
the trouble to call upon him, and warn him that he
will need to get measured for his commit he troubles
you again.”

“ Be careful, sir. The Mormon element is power-
ful here, in this part of Idaho, and it is dangerous
to cross any of the clan 1” old J eptha warned.

“Don‘t fret about me, sir. It’s a cold day when
any of these latter-day cherubs scare meI—don’t
you forget that! I’ve got a particular dislike fer
’em, and if some of ’em don’t bite the dust afore I
leave the town of Git-Thar, my name ain’t Suke
Silversmith!”

" What! are you the famous mountain foot-pad?”
Virgie cried, in wonderment; for she had often
heard Silversmith’s name mentioned, and, too. there
was a reward-paper posted up in the post-office,
offering two hundred dollars for the road-agent’s
arrest. .

“ I have the honor of being that first-class Robin
Hood!” the stranger replied, exhibiting a row of
pearly teeth as he smilet .

“ You appear to have heard of me?” I

“I have heard of you as a bad man, 511‘.
a reward-paper up, at the post-office.” I

“So I have heard, and it is on purpose to View
this same paper that I am here to-day.I ThIat re-
minds nic—l must be jogging along. I ll bid you
good-afternoon. If the Mormon beast offers you
molestation, you can bet high stakes thet I’m bad
man enough not to see you and the 01d gent come
to harm!” I I I

Then, tipping his jaunty prairie-hat, he bowed
low. turned upon his heel and walked out of the
yard, and away toward Git-Thar. I I I

“ What a gentlenianlyapx.ear-ing person," Virgie
said, turning to her father. “One could never sus-
pect him of being an outlaw. I wonder if he dares
go boldly into the camp where he is wanted for so
many stage-robberies? ’

Jeptha Jamison did not reply. I

Hc lay back in his chair, his gaze resting fixedly
upon the white—pebbled walk in front of the cabin.

And Mr. Suke Silversmith, gentleman road~agent,
as be classed himself, strode directly on and en-
tered the bustling young mining-metropolis of Git-
Thar.

There is

 

CHAPTER IV.
ToniAs’s ACCUSATION. _

THE wonderful strength exhibited by Bullion BrIet-
iii his promiscuous handling of Uriah Knockemstiff
caused a murmur of astonishment to escape the
spectators congregated within Schneider 5 grocery
suggt into the street went the mule-driver, sprawl-
ing. and then he lay where he landed, Without an
effort to arise, if indeed he were able to do so.

Not giving him a second glance, the man of the
giant grip again turned his attention to the counter,
from which he had twice been attracted, and fin-
ished his purchase, which consrsted of some cooking
utensils, plates, knives and forks. and such articles
as a man might need who proposed to be his own
board!ng—housekeeper. '

While he was thus busied a group of men at the
opposite side of the room were watching him erh
hawk-like intensity, and exchanging some remarks
‘n nundertone.

1 fine of the party was the self—esteemed and
“ onlv ” William Tobias, than whomIno man imag-

ined himself of greater importance in the town of
“ - ar. I

(Il‘t‘ Tiliar ain’t no shadder of a doubt about it!” he
allowed, in reply to some previous remark of one of
his companions. “ I peckernise him Jest as sure as

l ther nose on m ace.” I
I (Aond accordingly ythere could be but httle doubt

 

 

 

about it, for Bill‘s nose was one of the noticeable
features of his ugly face, being of abnormal size
and colored upon the end as elaborately as a chronio
sunset.

"I dunno,” Mickey Maginn remarked, rather
doubtfully. “ It (in n’t strike me ther resemblance
aire quite sufiicient t, r warrant our bcin’ hasty
in pitchin‘ outer him. Thar’s one thing sart‘in—he‘s
no slouch, an’ et takes a good many ounces of man
ter handle him."

“Pooh! pshaw!
afeard 0’ him?"

“ But jest luk how he waltzed Knockemstilf!” sug-
gested Cock-eyed Cal, who was noted as Second-best
ton h to the notorious Uriah himself.

“ ooh! psliaw! Uriah was too drrink to take
keer of himself. Ye know the 0 M We took? Ef
{Ier goin’ to tiunk, why say so, an‘ be done With it.

skew the boodle we got skinned out of a year
ago: now‘s our lime fer revenge!”

" Nobody’s flunkin‘ as I knows of," Maginn growl-
ed. “Ef it‘s bound ter be a skewrup, sail in and
Open the argvmenr, and we‘ll help, when ther’s any
shutin’ to be did.“

" Ef we kin take the galoot alive ther’ won’t be no
shuVin’ to be did!” Tobias declared. “ Ye know
thar’s a Couple 0’ hundred reward, an‘ we fellers
may as well have it as any one else. Ain’t I right
erbout that?"

The others grunted assent.

Tobias was a ruling spirit among them, and as a
general thing they went according to his orders.

Tobias waited until Bullion Bret had finished pay-
ing for the articles he had purchased; then he
stepped forward and tapped the Giant Grip upon
the snoulder.

Bullion Bret wheeled around so suddenly that To-
bias involuntarily siepped back a couple of paces,
as if fearing instant annihilation

“What do you want?" Bret demanded, his eyes
glittering dangerously, and his position an attitude
of defense. “ If you want what the mule driVer got,
I can possibly accommodate you !"

" Ye needn‘t be so sassy ner aggressive!” Tobias
declared, impudcntly. “ It won‘t do ye a bit 0’ good,
fer tIlIiIar’s ten 0’ us to one 0’ you, an’ Ye see we know
you.

“Oh, ye do, eh ?" and the glitter in Bullion Bret‘s
eyes did not lesSen. "If so, I am not aware of it,
except that I had occasion to introduce myself a
while ago. If you have anything of importance to
communicate. please be as brief as possible!”

“ Ye mustn’t be in sech a blamed hurry, me
cuck-coo!" Tobias advised. “Fer a man o‘ yer
leisure minnits ye are deucedly fast. Ther fact is.
we aire goin’ ter indooce e tcr remain among us
for some time, Mr. Suke Si versmith !”

“ Excuse me, then, for you have made a mistake
in my appellation. Bullion Bret is the title I sail
under!"

“ It may be now—it weren’t a year ago, when ye
soaked us on a. skin-game o’ poker!" Tobias cried,
fierce] ; “ winnin’ all our good money, and givin’ us
a batc o’ bogus stutf. O , thet were a nice sort 0’
trick, you bet. but we sweared vengeance on the
next red—headed son~of—a»gun what set foot in Git-
Thar. You be our mutton, an’, what’s more, you’re
Suke Silversmith, the road-agent. Thet little pun

Aire we a set 0’ babies ter be

“‘

CC“:
h

"~‘e

ud;

o’ yourn about ‘gittiu’ (har’ comes in very nice, jest
now, fer ye can bet yer sweet life you’ve 'got thar ’
at last! Surrender, ye red-headed pirate, or we’ll
bore ye so full 0’ holes ye won’t never know what ‘5
left 0’ you.”

“What, I surrender—to a slouchy sa head like
you ?” Bret cried, scornfully. “ Well, I rat or reckon
not! When you can prove that I ever did you any
harm, or was ever in this camp before, it will be
time enough to talk of my surrendering. As it is, I
shall not be likely to do anything of the kind. and
unless you are desirous of getting hurt you will con-
sult onur best interests by minding your own busi-
ness!‘

“ Will we, though? \Vaal, I guess not ! Thar’s a
reward fer your arrest, an elf ye don't surrender,
why, we’re goin’ to take you, that‘s all.”

" Very well. Before you take me, let me warn
you that some of you will die in doing it, and I shall
not hold myself responsible for defending myself.
You have heard me, and my name is Bullion Bret!"

Tobias and his gang were not the only ones con-
gregated within Schneider’s grocery store who heard
the words of the Giant Grip.

There were a number of miners, and citizens, and
a young lady, well-dressed, and of preposscssing ap-
pearance.

She was the daughter of Septimus Singleton, who
was the wealthiest Gentile in the town, he owning
about two-thirds of the most valuable mines.

Sadie Singleton was a stately, refined-looking girl;
was remarkably intelligent and well—educated, hav-
ing graduated from a female college. and already
had spent one winter in Washington society.

By many she was considered the peer of Virgie
Jamison, in point of personal beauty and attraction.
and being the miner—owner‘s only child, she was
pretty generally regarded with awe and respect.

She had been in the store prior to the entrance of
Bullion Bret, and the fuss that had ensued; and had
been too much frightened to attempt to escape.

She now came forward, however, and paused just
in front of scowling William Tobias.

“ I am ashamed of you, sirl” she said, looking him
squarely in the face. “ It is too bad, that a stranger
cannot come to this town, any more. without being
dragged into a quarrel with you and your rufi‘ianly
companions. I shall inform my father of this mat-
ter, sir, and you will be discharged."

"Excuse me, Miss Sadie. but you see this hyer
galoot be ther same Suke Silversmith w‘at’s bin rob-
bin‘ ther stages, 0’ late, an’ I’m mighty sure your
father can‘t growl because we wanter ’rest liiin,
wheuI he hissdf hes lost money by the stage rob~
biri‘ !’

"Is it true, sir, that you are Suke Silversmith?”
Sadie asked, gazing straight at the Giant Grip, with
her beautiful dusky orbs.

“ Dear lady, it affords me the greatest of pleasure
to assure you that I am no! the much—wanted Silver-
smith, never was that distinguished individual, nor
do I ever expect to be. Breton Beaufort answers me
for a name, although I am oftener dubbed the Giant
Grip, and Bullion Bret—the former because I have
sometimes a ratherimpressive way of shaking hands
with people. and the latter, because I occasionally
speculate in bullion. Hoping this will be sufficiently
explanatory, I may add, that those galoots seem
spoihng fora scrimmage. and I presume I can ac-
commodate Git-Thar by furnishing a few of them as
subjects to start a grave-yard with!”

“ No! no! there shall be no fight. I warn you,
William Tobias, if further molestation is offered this
gentleman, you shall be discharged from my fath-
er‘s employ," Sadie cried. firmly.

“Mebbe you’re runnin’ the old man’s business,
an’ mebbe ye ain‘t!” sneered Tobias.

“ If you have any desire to know. sir. allow me to
inform you that my daughter has the pOWer to dis-
charge you at any time she may see fit!” a deep

 

 

 

.Knockemstiff was the only one in Git-Thar who had

base voice declared. and Scptimus Singleton in per- '
st 11 stIi pped into the room—a portly man. of com-
manding appearance, and a stern, worlle face
leiose coldness was only partly relieved by aflieavv1
iron-gr ay bez'rd. . ‘

Tobias shru. it back at sight of the mine-owner
whoiurned pereiiiptorily to his daughter. ’

“Child! child! what are you doing here. in con-
nection with this jangle?" '

I“ Excuse me, for her.” Iiulliou Bret. sai ’, tipping
his hat. “Sreing that these ruffians were inclined
to pick upon 1‘ e, a stranger in your town, the young
lady generouslv tried to persnade them out of their
pui'poIse. I am sure she has my heartiest grati-
Ilt (a.

“Party speech! purty speech!” sneered Tobias,
loud enough to be hear . "Tryin’ ter mash the
heiress!"

“That will do from you, sir!” Mr. Singleton said
sternIly, turning to the bullying mint r. “You can
consider yourself suspended from my emplov, until
you learn how to behave yourself. Come, Sadie!”
and taking his daughter‘s arm, he left the gi‘cCery.
and set cut for the Singlcion mansion, which was
(he most pretentious in the Gi -'I‘har settlement.

Tomas glared after the pair until he could no lon-
ger see them: then he burst into a coarse laugh.

“Sep Singleton nredr't s‘peci he‘s greater than
the hull United States!” he grunted. “Ther’ may
he a day, not fur off, when he mayn’t be so rich.
ner half $01£(.)\Vel'ful, I opine. An’ I don’t keer a.
fig whether works fer him or not. \Vhen I don’t
work, I opine as ther Union don’t 3”

Among the miners of Git-Thar there existed what
was known as a Self-l’ritemive Labor Union, and
tthe great and only William Tobias was pr csid». nt of
1 .

It therefore followed that as nearly all of lhem in-
ers belonged to the Union. the owners of the mines
were forced to pay good wages to Secure the proper
quantity and quality of help necessary to the suc-
cessful car‘ying on of their business,

At a re 'ent meeting of the Union a resolution had
been drafted demanding an increase of ten percent.
on the already exorbitant scale of wages. and the
mine—owners had no immediate choice, owing to a
scarcity cf hands, but to accede to the demand.

Among the mine-owners it was feared to do any-
thing to precipitate a strb e, for it was pretty gene-
rally believed by them that Elder Primrose and his
Mormon clan stood only too ready to back the
strikers, and encourage a labor revolt, hoping to
gain undis uted possession of everything in Git-
Thar. and t us to drive out the Gentile element.

The words uttered by Tobias, after the departure
of the Singletons, seemed to be received with
marked favor by the miners in the grocery, for there
was an audible murimir of approval.

“Old Singleton thinks there’s no one so good as
him, since he‘s made a boodle out o’ the sweat 0’ our
brows!” Cock-eyed Cal added maliciously. “ We
orter show him that we don’t allow him fer hev all
ther fat for himself."

“ You bet! He'll find he can’t treat us with impu—
nerty," Tobias snarled. “I order a meetin’ o’ the
Union two hours hence. We’ll see ef I’m ter be dis-
charged."

Bullion Bret had stood leaning idly against the

 

founter, as if having no inclination, whatever, to
cave.

After having delivered himself of the last quoted
remark, Tobias once more fastened his malignant
gaze upon the Sportive stranger.

“I see ye ain’t makin" any move to varnoose l" he
growled, fiercely. “ Ef ye don"t wanter git hurt
why don’t ye many?”

“I don’t see any reason why I should be unneces-
sarily expeditions,” Bret replied, coolly. “ Do you ?“

“ Curse you, you‘d better move, or we’ll Show ye.
Ye may be glad we‘re lettin’ up on ye so much as
ter let yer escape!”

“ I fail to see how you are compromising your sub-
lime ferocity in any way, srr. since I have not re-
quested vour clemency. The fact of the u=atteris,
my worthy Wahoo, yours to command, Breton B.
Beaufort, has come to the town of Git-Thar to stay
—-I 0 become as permanent a fixture as the Plymoudi
Rock, upon which the pilgrims of old did land. So.
if I were you, and I didn‘t propose to allow such an
individual colonization as that which [have outlined,
I’d pitch right in and find out which is going to have
his owrifiray about it—you or I!”

With forced composure, back of which might lie a
deadly tornado of passion, did Bullion Bret utter the
challenge, and no one who saw or heard him could
for an instant doubt but that he was just as confi-
dent and fearless as what he appeared.

Bill Tobias was not exactly a coward. as the term
is generally applied to Western characters. He
could brag of having killed his man, and old Uriah

made him “take water," up to the present time.

Nevertheless, Tobias now regarded the Giant Grip
with sullen hesitation. which showed that lie was
not quite sure but that he was afraid of the cool
speculator in bullion.

“ Mebbe e think I‘m afeard of ye? ’ doubling 11p
his knottegfists and donning a ferocious scowl.

" That‘s just what I do think precisely," Bret
smiled, pleasantly. "I don‘t believe but what a good
big tomcat could scare the wits out of you, if it were
to bristle up at you and lash its tail about a couple
of times.”

“Yer a liar and a thief!” Tobias roared, beside
himself with rage. " Jest ye come out 0’ doors.
whar bullets won‘t hurt nobody, an’ I‘ll fight ye wi’
either pistols, knives or fists.”

" Sold ag‘in, bully! for I’m your lamb chop every
time. Out into the street it is, and I‘ll waltz you till
you’re tired. Bare fists will we use, for I don‘t care
to waste ammunition or dull my toothpick against
your alligator hide! ’

And out of Schneider‘s grocery marched the dash.
ing fellow of the giant grip—out into the main street
of Git-Thar camp. where the white moonlight of the
brilliant September night swathed all objects in a
spell of mellow glory. _

And Bill Tobias and the crowd brought up the
rear.

 

CHAPTER V.
A VILLAISOUS COMPACT.

WHEN the Giant Grip and Tobias emerged from
Schneider‘s grocery-store, the redoubtable Uriah
Knockemstiff was nowhere to be seen; he had liter-
ally folded his tent and silently stolen away.

And as the aforesaid Uriah is to play a more or less
important part in our drama, it behooves us, as the
narrator, to hunt him up.

It was some minutes after landing in the street
ere he recovered from the efi‘ects'of the rough usage
he had received at the hands of Bullion Bret. Being
a character for whom the general public entertained
but a small degree of love. no one paid any atten-
tion to him, and he was left to recover as best he
could.

 

 

‘t Y ‘ - g -
I get upon his pins ‘ but little the worse for wear

and tear.

N0 sooner did he regain his e( uillbrium tl 0r ls
arm wins clinched by an elderly ti-nnle of rnii‘si1 :1 ll.-
:ularproporiions, wh l marched him ofi‘ toward the
Mormon quarters Without stopping for ceremony, ‘
ISIubImissneanil week as a lamb went the mirle-
 II IIIIingiIIdeatli stared him fairly and grimly in

'. ‘esirn‘ Ix'  i
have been gIIIIIIIIiI..IIIation to in inevitable could not

The fernale to whom he was locked was of un-
 IhIli-rht lll addition to her angularity and a

r“ 'ue ar'v' - ' -
IIIIIIIIIIIIIII g .l ISuge nev er fell to the lot of no
II ‘I' Urialier Knockcmstil‘f." said she as the towar

l'ukevrlle ” progressed—" Uriahei‘ Kuockenistifid
arffllxl 3'01} aSlliIlIIrIied ot‘ yoursr it?” ’

I; rarninta. ' be durned efI aren’t!" res
Uriah, lngubriously. “ What d‘ye thunk, Al‘ggllgltig
——II. the great and giaocondic gopher an’ he-howler
oI IHonduras. let a lcetle ordinary gaIOot pick me up
likeI I was a baby-burro, an’ heave me out o’ Schnei-
deiIs grocery like I was no good but ter mop up ther
niainIstrIeet, fer a street-sweeper! Oh. Jerimity
EIghIpson. It makes my bliid bile, sloppin’ over, ct

"Urialier Knockemstitl'. it 'ust served on ri
:11¥;;;Tllat it did. A man 0’ Jyer mature 3years gyliti;

I y 0' seven wives an’ si 't. . '~ —'
sir-Irlliflam‘ashlamed 0‘ you!" k 99" Children Oh,
ang ye a .——\sires, children all! I want re-
ven e! V . - ’ ., I.,
dmsin  Arammta. hev ye a bottle wr ye, m a

I“ ary a bottle, sir. When we it hum e "
Igggfltéiflnussin’ bottle to the new bftby, that: Willa]:

“I’ll be kicked ter death wi’ mules efI o n w!
IEIfIIsgge-IpnwomdentcailiI’t mind sixteen young-fins they

‘ mm c m ‘ ‘ - i y' ’ '-
fIIII oI bungIIICIIIII gorn back an git my b iler

I“ No '62 ainI’t, Uriaher Knockemstiff, ncthin’ o‘ the
kind. here 5 inzriess fer you—d’ye beer? bizness .’”

I‘ To blazes wr’ the bizness. Araminta Knockem-
stifi". NoIbaby-nussin’ fer this old he-howler—not
tlusvaterIrin ; some other eve."

“ u say '68. The Elder wan ' !”

I” The devil 3)“ ts 39
_ fNo; EIder Primrose. Thar’s sometliin’ to he did.
L'riaher Ixnockemsriff, an’ t: e Elder, who sent me
for ye, hinted there was big graft in it.”

“Big graft, eh ?”

"Yes; large pay. So straight to the Elder’s pres-
ence o you preambulate!”

“ An’ tackle the job?"

“Most certainly!”

“Oh! most undoubtedly. And arter the job is
done, who collars the collat?”

I ‘_It is to be equallv divided among the seven Mrs.
eraher Knockemstiff‘s. There’s shoes, dresses and
grub to be provided. sir; and it's little you contri-
bute, youI miserable old brute. What‘s left gOes
into the Sinking fund for the benefit of the church."

“ Then. I don‘t get a smell?”

“ Nary a smell!”

“Then, that settles it.
b’iler, on tick.”

“Jest let me see you! Your Araminta has got
you now, and so you walk a chalk-line, or I’ll cuff
your ears up to a peak.”

“Gulf and be darned. Araminta! Art-er what I
stood ter-night yer culIS aire like muserkel rain-
drops patterm’ on the roof. Business now, frurn
roots Iuv my bunions ter ther roots 0’ my hair. Eith-
er I gits half, or I don‘t do the job, you hear me i”
and the redoubtable Kriockemstnfi bolted therewith,
and refused to budge further until some sort of a
bargain was strrck up.

I Now, after years of matrimonial experience, hav-
ing been traded or “swapped” no less than half a
dozen times, Mrs U. K. was by no means a fool;
accordingly she knew it to he sometimes more profit-
:ble to coax a balky horse than to kick and thrash

im.

Therefore Ishe threw her arms about the ox-like
neck of her ggai tic mule-driver and applied a series
of osculatory dabs at his cheek, cooing with dove-
hke serenity.

I ‘ Thar, now, dearest. don’t be stubborn. You are
just the best, roodest man in the world, and of course
you shall get alf of the money. So come along, for
the Elder is waitin !”

Thus pacified, Ugi'iah marched on, and was soon
ushered into the private parlor of the Mormon ruler
of Git-Thar.

The Elder sat tipped back in an easy-chair, and
after directing Ara minta in a gruff manner, to “ git
out. ’ he invited Uriah to occupy a. seat, and help
himself to cigars and wine, which sat upon a table,
near at hand.

I 'I‘IlIie Elder then looked the mule-driver over, crit-
ica v.

“Uriah!” he observed “I hear that on are
neglecting the lovely fami y that the Lord as per-
mitted you to gather around you?” the Elder ob-
served. ' '

“No sech a darned thing!” Uriah declared, with
vehemence. “They're neglecting me, sir. For six
long weeks has their been a rent in my browsers. and
not one of the hull seven has offered to sew it up, or
cover it with a patch.”

“Very likely, because they did not choose to dog
you to a saloon, in order to do the job,” the Elder
allowed.

“Mchbe I don’t know the conjergal relations 0’
your household, Elder, but ef yer dozen wives aire
knee-high-ter-a-graSshopper as mean as my old Ara-
nnnIter, hell an’ all its three-tined pitchforks would
be Sixty miles from nowhere. I tell ye that old she—
canary is a screamer. an’ efI were to linger long in
her presence she‘d hev a door-mat fringed with
patc es of my scalp!”

The Elder smiled.

He was aware of the fact that Araminta was not
the only " screarner ” in Pukeville.

He, himself. was the proud ossessor of a couple
who would “take the shine ” of? the unconjugal Mrs.
Knockemstiif.

“ Well, Uriah, such is fate. and we must all take
our share of it. I sent for you, not to give oua
Candle lecture, but to give you an opportunity to
make a comfortable sum of money.”

“ Yas, so Araminta said, an’ she allowed she war
goin’ ter gobble onto it, arter I earned it.”

“ Bah! you do the job for me, and do it well, and
I’ll guarantee that no second party shall get a
chance at the pay.”

“ How much is it?”

“ A round hundred dollars!”

“Too small. I can’t spill no blud, short 0’ five
times thet amount!"

“ But there’s no blood to be spilled, sir. The job’s
as light and simple as A B C. All it requires is a
little force. and it is a success."

“ \Vaal, what is it?”

“Promise me secrecy!"

“On course I will. Did I evyer go back on you,
Elder?"

"Perhaps not. If I ever catch you doing so, it
will not be well for you, rest assured.”

“Ob. ye needn’t fear. Ther vocabulary trap 0’
Uriaher Knockemstiff kin be as open as the Arctic
ocean. or as close as a screwed~np vise.”

"Well, the job isthis: You know that out in the
gulch. the other side of Git-Thar, there live two per-
sons named Jamison !”

“ Yes. I knows.”

“They’re father and daughter, and the girl is
as pretty as the prettiest flow er that grows in the
mountains.“

"Ye kin bet on that! I hev bin thinkin’ some 0’
poppin‘ to her myself.”

" Ha! ha! I fancy she would fall in love with you
at first sight. you are so pretty!” Primrose laughed.
“But. to proceed. I have for some time set m
mind upon having the girl for my wife, and. “’it
this purpose in view, went down after her to-day.”

“ And didn’t get her!”
“CurSe the luck, no!
at the point of a pistol !”
“ An ye sweared to possess her?" _
“Correct!” and the Elder said it in a way that il-
lustrated that he meant every word of it. “ I‘ll pos-
sess that haughty little minx, if I have to turn the
whole town upside down. What I want of you is to
go to the cabin to-night and capture her. and bring
her here. I’ll see then that she is taken care of."

"And I gits a hundred dollars fer doin‘ it, eh ?"

‘ You do.“

. “ How about the old cuss?”

“ Bah! he can't hinder you! If he offers to inter‘
fere. rap him over the head. Be careful, however,
not to kill him.‘

“ Can‘t make it two hundred, can ye?"

“ No! Not one cent over an even hundred. Uriah !”
“ Well. that’s ekal to one or two fust-class (lecoc-
tions of booze—so I‘ll gobble onto the job. Before
Aurorea ag‘in lights the eastern horiZon. ye shall
hev the gal, or my name ain‘t Uriaher Kn0ckemstif’f. ”
(To be 60/2127}lleJ—COIIUNHtCrCl 2‘12 N0. 3'2.)

I’m goin‘ back and fill my

She actually drove me off

 

 

The Druggist’s Mistake.

 

"\VHAT do you mean by such carelessness?" ex-
claimed a man who entered the drug store in a ter-
ribly excited manner. “ What do you mean by your
careleSsnt 55, I sax ‘1 You sold my boy laudanum for
paregor‘ic. and it was only by the luckiest chance
that the baby isn‘t now lying dead: yes. sir, dead
—murdered by your criminal carelessness."
" What’s that?” said the druzgist, looking up from
his desk. “I sold you laudanum instead of pare-
goric! Mercy! how could I have been so forgetful!
Of course you‘ll pay the difference in cost. Lauda«
num is more expensive than paregoric, you know.
You‘ve come in to paytlie difference, no doubt. I‘m
obliged to you. sir, obliged to you: your honesty
does you credit. sir. does you credit, indeed it does."
The customer appeared desirous of saying some-
thing, but ’n'iidst the conflict of his emotions he was
unable to express himself in words. and he went out
without saying a word or offering to pay that " dif-

 

He did recover at last, however, and managed to

t'erence. “

 

 

 

 

 

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LOOK FOR THE LIGHT.

BY HAY LESTER.

Th dark side— why seek it? No beauty is there;
Wlfy cherish the shadows of sorrow and care?
And why, oflered kindness so often reject,

Or be always so eager a wrong to detect?

Believe me, my friend, many troubles you meet,

Which might have passed by bad you not rushed to
8%.

And iggny a joy might fall to your share,

Which you miss by always encouraging care.

Th re are manv afflictions whichmust come to you,
Thzit you cannot escape, yet this is most true:—
You never will make your suflermgs less,

if close to your bosom the iron you press.

ek out the bri htest as onward you go!

gigsnnsgray of sunshige though shadows you know,
For oft flowers bloom, near the roughest ighway—
The darkest hour heralds the dawning of day.

Kale Scott,
The Decoy Detective;
on.

Joe‘ Phenix’s Still Hunt.

A Romance of the Upper Crust and Lower Crust
of New York Life.

BY ALBERT W. AIKEN,

AUTHOR or “ THE RAT OF THE BATTERY,” “ THE
DEMON DETECTIVE,” “ RED RICHARD,” ETC.

CHAPTER XXVI.
AN UNEXPECTED OFFER.

THE house to which the boatman referred was
an old fashioned, gloomy-looking pile, Situated
a few hundred yards down the road from Blithe-
wood. .

It was a massive building, built in the old
Gothic style, with many wings and curiously
constructed peaked roofs. _

It was surrounded by a regular thicket of
trees, so that only the peaked roofs of the house
were visible.

“Haunted! you. don’t say sol” the boatman
exclaimed, and with open mouth he strained
his eyes to examine the marvel.

“ Yes, so I have heard, but I do not take any
stock in such stories," Andrews replied, care-
lessly.

“ All old houses deserted and left to go to rack
and ruin are always declared to be haunted, but
as I have never encountered any ghosts yet in
my travels, and’ I have not staid at home all
my life, [give no credence to hobgoblin stories.”

“ Nobody lives thar?” the disguised man
asked.

The sleuth-hound was not merely assuming
an interest in this matter.

The moment he heard of the haunted house,
the thought immediately suggested itself to
him if this story was not a cunning device, put
into operation by the lawless gang who had
seized upon the old house for a head quarters,
to keep inquisitive people from examining the
premises too closely.

“No; and it has been deserted for years, I
understand.”

“ Was], that air is mighty strange, now, for
it seems to be a right nicehouse, and all it needs
is a leetle fixing up.” '

“ The story oes that a couple of murders
were committe there some years ago—nearly
ten years back, i believe.

“A son murdered his father and also mor-
tally wounded his sister who interfered to save
the old man.

“ He fled to escape the punishment due to
his crimes and nothing has ever been heard of
him since.

“ The estate, which was a- large and valuable
one, fell into the hands of the lawyers, and they
have been fighting over it ever since, so the
house and grounds have gone to ruin.”

“Nobody but the ghosts to live in the old
house, eh?" questioned the fisherman, appar-
ent] taking a deep interest in the tale.

“ ell, as I have told you, I don’t take any
stock in ghost-stories, but the people in the
neighborhood who have known all about the
old house for years, say there isn’t money
enough in the world to induce them to pass a
night within its walls.”

“ The ghosts walk, hey i” asked the boatman,
with ea er curiosity.

“ So t ey say.”

“ What do t ey look like—did anybody ever
see ’em?”

“Oh, yes; there’s hardly a person. in the
neighborth who hasn’t a story to tell about
the ghosts, and there’s scarcely one of them,
man or woman, who is willing to pass by the
old house anywhere around midnight.”

“ W’ot do the ghosts look like—did you ever
hear tell?”

“ Oh, yes; first.there’s the ghost of the old gen-
tleman, with his snow-white hair and beard, all
clotted with blood, which flows from a ghastly
Wound in his temple where his murderous son
struck him, and then the sister, all clad in
white, but with frightful blood-stains upon the
otherwise spotless robes, wanders up and down,
wringing her hands and: mourning bitterly.”

“Sakes alive!” the boatman exclaimed. “I
reckon a couple of ghosts like that would be
’bout enuff to scare at man into fits.”

“ Yes, it wouldn’t be pleasant to encounter
the air on a dark night. ’ ‘

“ Ieasant!” the other ejaculated, “waal, I
reckon it would be the north side of pleasant to
run across two sich critters.”

“ As far as I am-concerned I think the stories
are all bosh,” Andrews remarked, with a slight
expression of contempt in his voice, “ but there
isn't any one in the neighborhood who agrees
with me. Why, I don’t believe there’s a man
on my place who would be willing to risk a
visit to the ‘ haunted house,’ as everybody calls
it. after midnight, if a hundred dollars were
offered as a reward.”

“ A hundred dollars- wouldn’t do a man no
good if he was going to git the life scared right
out of him,” the old man remarked.

“ Yes, that’s the way they all look at it.”

By this time the boat had passed through the
narrows and the open waters of the lower bay
were reached.

There was a good breeze, very little sea, and
the boat sped onward like a sea—bird.

The Italian boy, happening to move a little,
attracted Andrews’s attention, and he surveyed
him with evident interest.

The boy was lying with his back to the gen-
tleman, so he only had a partial view of the
youth’s face.

“Is that your son?” he asked.
b0“ "b, no; he’s no kid of mine; he’s an Italian

“Ah, yes; I see,” the gentleman remarked,
in a careless way, but all the time he was study-
ing the face of the boy intently.

“ I noticed he was dark-complexioned, but
thonght he was tanned.”

" No; he’s one of them I-talian. He run away
from his folks ’cos they didn’t treat him well,and
‘H bile fooling around the docks he kinder s ruck
up an acquaintance with me. You see, b( ss, I
ain’t so young as I used to be, and he helps me
wusiderably.

f‘ I'm all alone in the world, with neither
chick nor child and nary a relation that I knows
on. so I wasn‘t sorry when the boy said he’d
like to come along with me."

“ I should think it was a very good idea, iii-
deed. What’s his name?”

“ Waal, I call him Billy, ’cos it’s an easy
name to handle, but his riglt name is Pablo
something or other. He spits it ou' as easy as
rolling off a log, but I’m darned if I could
ever git my tongue ’round it. lt’s one of those
cussid I—talinn names, a regular jiW—bi‘eaker.
you know, and about as long as a man’s ui‘m.” ’

“He seems to be a bright fellow enough, to
judge from his face,“ Andre's. s observed.

“ Oh, he’s je~t as cute as they make 'em, as

 

 

 

“ Does he speak good English?” .

“How?” asked the fisherman, evidently not
understanding the question.

“Does he speak English—speak so you can
understand what he says?” Andrews explained.

‘ Oh you mean does he talk good United
States?”

“ Yes, that is it.” .

“ Waal, pretty good; you kin allers make out
w’ot he is a—trying to git at.” _

“ I have a vacancy in my household for just
such a boy as that,” the other remarked, ‘; out
I suppose you wouldn’t like to part With him.”

The sleuthhound for a moment was puzzled
by this unexpected development and hardly
knew what to think of it.

It was evidently a whim on the part of the
gentleman. He had taken a fancy to the boy.

Now, would it not be a good idea to seize up-
on the chance to domicile his spy right in the
neighborhood of the haunted house to whosc
story he had listened with the utmost interest?

He thought he could easily solve the mystery
of the old mansion. _ _

There was not the least doubt in his mind
that the house was haunted, but not by specters
from another world. .

The thief taker was a sad skeptic in regard
to hosts. . l

e had lived some time in this busthng world
—had passed through stran e adventures, yet
had never encountered a g ost, nor met any
man of sense who had, so it was not strange he
was incredulous. .

His explanation of the mystery was simple;
the old house was the head-quarters of the out—
law band of whom he was in search.

They had taken advantage of the dread with
which the mansion was regarded by the dwell-
ers in the neighborhood, and had probably done
a little in the ghost line themselves, so as to add
to the terror.

No one in the vicinity would be apt to come
near the house, articularly after nightfall,
and if any belatefwayfarer should happen to
see dark figures flitting about in the neighbor-
hood, he would most certainly imagine the
ghosts had appeared for his particular benefit.

Then, too, if the spy was in the house, he
would be able to pick up some information in
regard to the two dudes.

Perhaps this very man who made the offer
was the one whom the trackers sought.

This was a wild idea, of course, and one that
had not a particle of evidence to sustain it,
but, sometimes, these fanciful imaginings come
near the truth, and for such a sober, practical
fellow, Joe Phenix gave considerable heed to
them.

“Wa—al, I s’pose I should kinder miss the
little cuss,” the boatman replied, slowly, “but
then I ain’t the kind of man to stand in any-
body’s way, and if the boy kin better himself
I ain’t a-going to lift a. finger to stop it. I
s’pose there won’t be any objections for me to
come and see him once in a while?”

“Oh, no, not at all. I’ll give the youngster
eight dollars a month and his board, and he
can come right ashore with me on our return.
Wake him up and see how he likes it.”

This was done and the boy appeared delight-
ed at the chance, and so the matter was ar-
ranged.

Some four hours the party spent on the wa-
ter, and this afforded time for Alcibiades to
sleep of! the effects of the liquor, so, when the
party returned, he was able to take care of
himself.

The boy landed with the rest and the old
man sailed away, waving his hand in saluta-
tion.

 

CHAPTER XXVII.
A BUSINESS CONSULTATION.
THE trip had wonderful! refreshed all of the
party, and when they reac ed the house none
of them betrayed any signs that they had been
dissipating all night long.

The Italian boy was turned over to the but-
ler, with instructions to see him fittingly at-
tired and comfortably bestowed, and then, as
they all protested that they Were almost
starved, breakfast was immediately and vig-
orously attacked. .

None of the other inmates of the mansion had
yet made their appearance, with the exception
of Andrews’s confidential man of business, a
portly, well-preserved, middle-aged gentleman,
whose looks immediately manifested that he
came of that ancient race which cannot boast a
country and yet has managed to more than
holdhits own with all the other nations of the
cart .
11158 was a Hebrew, by name Abraham Good-
0 I
A meek and prepossessin name, and yet
many of the Gentiles who ad happened to
have business dealings with this oily and soft-
voiced financier declared vehemently that the
name did not indicate the character of its
owner at all; in fact, instead of being a good
child, he was a very bad one, a hard-hearted,
merciless skinfiint, as full of tricks as a mon-
key, and as little to be relied upon.

ut then business men do talk roughly about
one another sometimes, particularly the fellows
who do not succeed in getting the butt end of
every bargain.
As far as the laws of trade went the genial
Abraham lived up to them, and so it was not
easy for his enemies to drive him from the
marts where the cunning speculators amuse
themselves by cheating each other and call it
business. but it was well known that he was ut-
terly unscrupulous and any one who had deal-
ings with him must be on the lookout for sharp
practice or eISe he would be likel to suffer.

Personality, though, the fat, joll Jew seemed
to be one o the nicest men-in t e world, and
a better companion with whom to while away
a social hour could not be readily found, even
in so big a city as great New York.

But it was a noteworthy fact that the men
who indorsed the Jew as a jolly, good fellow
were not men who bad business dealings with

m.

The “ street ”—by which comprehensive term
the denizens of the Stock Exchange and its en-
virons are known— shrugged its shoulders and
looked wise when it was reported that the gen-
tle Jew had joined his fortunes to those of the
bold Southwestern speculator.

There was hardly but one opinion about the
matter: it was the Old story.

The Hebrew had the experience and the
Southwesterner the capital: in the course of a
year or two the position of the parties would be
reversed, the Jew would have the money and
Andrews the experience.

In spite of these oracular sayings, however,
the two seemed to get along very well together
and the chronic grumblers, men who neVer had
a good word for anybody, accounted for it by
declaring it was their belief that in this partic-
ular instance the Jew had met his master, the
lVesterner being fully as colossal a rascal as the
Hebrew.

_In this life evil tongues are forever wag—
ging.

But to return to our tale.

It was quite a joll breakfast party, and after
the meal was over ndrews excused himself on
the plea of having some particular business to
which attention must be given, as he did not in-
tend to go to New York as Usual.

As he smilingly expressed it:

“I‘m going to take a couple of days off and
devote myself solely to the amusement of my
guests. It is something that I do not often do,
so you may consider yourselves fortunate.”

“ I reckon if a certain young girl wasn’t here
that you wouldn’t trouble yourself much,” A1-
cibiades remarked, in his coarse way.

“ I suppose I must plead guilty to the soft im~
peachment,” the host replied, pleasantly. “ It’s
a man’s first duty to attend to the comfort of
the ladies.”

 

of the mansion.
This was Andrews’s favorite retreat.

mending a view 0

be bad for fully a mile.

side to see into the room.

marking as he did so:
u Try

breakfast like a good cigar.”

a ci ar.

you had some particular business to
Jew

shade upon his fat face.

tle mitout preparations.”

asked, puffing away at his cigar in a perfectly
placid manner.

“Mine-gootnessl I know how do bank-ac-
count stands,” the Hebrew exclaimed.
cannot do anyt’ing mitout der monish.

drop to-day it vill be all up mit us.”

to day. ”

doubt about dot, if der market was let a one!”
the Jew rejoined, in quite an excited state.

“ But I vas up—town mit der
and I came across der mans w o knows how
der cat jumps.
he knew how I stood and he hated to see me
smashed.

“ Der ‘ street ’ is to be ‘milked,’ there is a

not alone in der boat.

clean us all out; der gang will be bu’sted.
“Very likely,” Andrews observed, just as

tent of the danger.
“ Then, when we are cleaned out. der brices

siders to come in.”

“ Give them a chance to walk up to the cap-
tain‘s office and settle, eh?”

“ Dot ish so.”

“ How much money will carry us through?”

“ Oh, it ish not much, but der way things are
now on der street, a dollar is as big as a. cart-
wheel.” '

“ How much money? Do you know the fig-
uresl”

“Oh yesh; dirty t’ousand dollars vill see us
through.”

“ Thirty thousand, eh?”

“Dot ish der sum, and not a nny less will
do!” the Jew exclaimed, decidedly).

‘ Then if we suCCeeded in raising thirty thou-
sand, we would be able not only to tide over
this crisis, but make a big stake when the re-
action takes place?”

“ Oxactlyl dot ish der truth! In der first
place values are to be depressed so as to freeze
out der weakkneed lambs, milk dem of der
moneys which they have been foolish enough
to put up, and then, when der odder gang rush
in to buy short, thinking dot everyt’ing is go-
ingto de eternal smash, the screws are to be
put on, der figure lifted, and der new gang will
be bu’sted as had as der old one.”

“A very nice little scheme—a double—edged
knife, in act, warranted to out both ways.’

“ Oh, mine gootness, Mister Andrews, do not
joke about der matter—it is notting to laugh
at!” the Hebrew exclaimed, really distressad.
“ It may be dot it ish all right to you, but it
ish all wrong to me. I hate about all my eggs
in dot basket and I likes not to see them go to
smash.”

“Tranquilize yourself, gentle Abraham, we
are not bu’steddyet.”

And then An rews produced his ket book,
which was a large and exceeding y bulk one
at present, and drew from it a goodly pile of
bills, together with the checks he had received
from the young men in payment of their gam-
bling debts.

“ See how much there is there all together,
hills and checks,” he said, tossin the precious
tokens of wealth carelessly into t e J ew‘s lap.
Goodchild’s eyes fairly bulged out from their
sockets at this unexpected display, and he fell
at once to work to count the money.

“ How much?” asked the host, as the J ew fin-
ished his task.

“ Forty-seven thousand and fifty-one dollars
to a cent,” was the answer.

“ That check for ten thousand I do not wish
to use, so we won’t count that, but deducting
it we have thirty—seven thousand to the good.’

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE SECRET CONFIDANT.
“ WONDERFUL! wonderful!” muttered the
Jew, as he stroked the pile with his fat fingers,
as though he could hardly believe the evidence
of his own eyes.
“ I vill gife you mine word, as I am an hon-
est man, I thought you were bu’sted and der
jig vash up.”
“ Oh, no, not quite so bad as that,” Andrews
replied, in his easy, careless way, just as if he
had a million or two of dollars at his back.
“ I am a firm believer in the old Scotch ro-
verb,‘NeVer stretch out your hand furthert an
you can easily draw it back.’ ”
“Dot ish a good idea—dot ish a grand idea,
but we can not always carry it oudt in dis
world,” the Jew remarked, reflectively.
“ Well, we must live up to it as nearly as -
sible. I was on the lookout for just sue a
trick as this, and held part of my funds in re—
serve, so instead of being forced to the wall by
this mOVement I stand a good chance of mak-
ing forty or fifty thousand dollars.”

‘ Oh, yesh; there isn’t the least doubt about
dot. You vill do it as easy as turn your hand
over,” Goodchild asserted. “ Oh! you hate
taken a weight from mine mind. I thou ht it
would be a! up with us: and, Mister An rews,
I had so much faith in your operations dot in
dis matter I followed your lead and put all my
leetle saving into der t’ing.”

“Is there enough money there to cover you
also?”

“ Oh, yes .”

“ Use it then, and put on a bold front. Don’t
let anybody suspect that we were afraid of get—
ting squeezed.”

“ Oh, mine gootness, no!”

“ The checks are all indorsed, ready for use.”
“ I will be off then.”

Goodchild stowed the money away carefully
in his capacious wallet, and with a parting s31-
utation withdrew.

The door closed with a spring lock, so that it
was impossible for any one to open it from the
outside without using a key.

 

 

 

“Particularly if they are young and good-
looking,” observed Alcibiades, with one of his
disagreeable leei's:

“That goes without saying, to use the French
expression," returned Andrews, and he and the
Je " then departed.

The master of the house evidently did not
mean to be intruded upon without warning.

Hardly had the door closed with its sharp
snap behind the portly figure of the Jew, when
a section of one of the book cases in the r. om

 

 

spry as a grasshopper, and as bright as a new
dollar.”

The host led the way to a little snuggery,
halt library and half smoking-room, which was

septum] a part, disclosing a secret stairway,

i dark as a pocket, leading to the lowrr regions. ‘

There were three windows in the room, two
in the front lookin out upon the lawn and com-
? the street and the bay be-

yond, while from the one in the end of the room
an outlook of the road leading to the city could

The lower parts of the windows were protect-
ed by curiously contrived screens so arranged
that while an ample view could be had from
the interior of the room of all that passed with-
out, it was impossible for any one on the out-

Andrews sat down in the luxurious embrace
of a comfortable easy-chair, told Goodchild to
help himself to another, drew out his cigar-case,
selected a “ weed,” and passed it to the Jew, re-

a cigar? There isn’t anything in the
world, in my opinion, that will settle a man’s

“ Dot ish so, ” observed Goodchild, who spoke
with a decided accent, and he helped himself to

“ Yeah, and I tole you, mine friend, dot there
vas no time to be lost,” the other replied, a

“ Last night we might hafe done somet’ing,
but now, mine gootnessl you cannot fight a bat-

“ What kind of a battle is it to be, and how
do you know I am not prepared?” Andrews

(‘ 
I put
up der last dollar yesterday; you know we are
short on der market, and if there is anodder

“Yes, if! but what makes you think that
prices will go down? There was a reaction just
at the closo of the market yesterday, and
about all the wise heads predicted that there
would be a general advance all along the line

“ So there would be—there isn’t the sli htest
ys last night
He vas an old friend of mine—-
large party who have bought for a rise; we are

“A drop of dree points this morning vill
calmly as ever, although he knew the full ex-

vill go up again, so as to encourage der out-

situated on the ground floor in one of the wings

“ understood you to intimate last ni ht that
iscuss,"
Andrews said, tendering the burning match
with which he had ignited his own cigar to the

 

  

In the passageway stood an elderly-looking
man with iron-gray hair and a short beard of
the same hue. , ,

He was neatly attired in a dark buSiness-smt,
and looked like a sort of an upper servant, for
he was evidently not a gentleman.

This person was known as Michael Jones, and
be occupied the position of secretary and agent
to Andrews.

Mr. Jones had a little room in one of the
wings on the second floor, although he was sel-
dom at Blithewood, for his duties in attending
to Mr. Andrews’s western business took him
away most of the time.

He was a very quiet man, this Mr. Jones, and
was not regarded with much favor by the rest
of the servants. .

In fact, he had such a peculiar, ghost-like
way of movin around the house, making his
appearance w en least expected, that the ser-
vants got the idea he was a sort of a spy upon
them. and so they were always on their good
behavior when the secretar was around.

“ Hallo! are you there, ike?” Andrews ask—
ed, turning toward the secret door, his quick
ears detecting the sli ht whir made b the
bookcase as it mov , otherwise noise essly,
through the air.

“ Yes, I’m here,” and the secretary advanced
into the room and helped himself to the chair
from which the Jew had risen, first taking the
precaution, howeVer, to carefully shut the
secret door; and when the bookcase was re-
placed it would have been a. shrewd guesser in—
deed who could have suspected there was a
secret door behind it.

“ Did you hear what passed between the gen-
tle Jew and myself?” Andrews asked.

“ Yes, I was just going to enter the room
when you and he came in, so I kept back and
waited.

“ He’s a smart fellow, that Jew, but for all
that be pretty near got his fingers pinched this
time. If you hadn’t been lucky enough to have
made that big raise, where would he have
been?

“Among the missing, gone where the wood-
bine twineth, and you can bet all your wealth
on that too,” Andrews replied.

“He never would have stayed _to face his
creditors in the world, but instead he would
have gathered all the funds he could get his
hands upon and skipped to parts unknown.

“ In the new cities of the far West there is
always room for a man like Goodcth to make
a strike.”

“And the call that business,” grumbled the
secretary. ‘Hang me! if it don’t seem as if
the most of the business men are as big rascals
in their way as the poor devils who are ‘ doing
time ’ up the river.”

“They are not like Caesar’s wife, above sus-
picion, and between you and me and the bed—
post, I am'getting a little tired of this life that

am leading; it s mighty risky, and a man
never knows exactly how he is standing. It’s
like walking over a slumbering volcano which
may burst forth at any moment and hurl de-
stifiiction around,” Andrews remarked, thought-
fu .
“That’s so,” replied the secretary; “ but you
are in so deep that I don’t exactly see how you
are going to get out; but, I say, how on earth
did you make that haul? Where did you strike
so big a boodle?

“ I thought the whole thing was goin to
smash when the Jew 8 un his yarn about 0w
the big spiders in Wal street intended to skin
all you little ones.

“ I knew you had about reached low-tide
mark, for it was only yesterdav when I spoke
to you about some little bills that ought to be
settled, you said you had less than a hundred
dollars in your pocket.”

“It was the truth too,” Andrews observed.
“ But I managed to make a raise of a. couple of
thousand dollars in town.”

“Out of this old Grimgriskin i”

“ He’s the man.”

“You must have played your cards pretty
well, for if I’m any judge of uman nature the
old fellow is about as sharp a skinflint as a man
would run across in a long da ’3 journey.”

“ You are right there, but have been study-
ing him for some time, and, to use the slang, I
think I have got him down fine.

“ He is one of the sus icious men who would
have instantly taken t e alarm if I had ro-
posed to him to go into anything requiring im
to put up any funds.

“ I played him as skillfully as an angler does
a bi sh. ,

“ never even hinted that I knew of an
good speculations, but at the same time I
caused the fact to become known to him that I
had managed to do pretty well for some parties
who had sufiicient confidence to trust me with
their money, and so, at last, the old man, after
pondering some time over the matter, came to
the conclusion that he would try a ‘ fiyer.’

“ When he mentioned the matter to me, I
played ofiish for a while; said I really didn’t
know of anything good just now, the market
was dull—there was too much money seeking
investment, and all the usual jargon of the
street.

“And at last—any one who knows the man
would hardly believe it—he brought me two
thousand dollars and insisted upon my using it
as I thought best.
“ He had confidence that I could make a
‘ turn’ with it to his advantage, and, Mike, al-
though I was as hungry for that money as a
starving man is for food, for I knew I had got
in. too deep, and that a, little depression of
rices would clean me out, yet I really made
.til’l’l press me before I would consent to take
1 .
“It came in just in the nick of time; but
where did you get the rest?” Mr. Jones asked.
“I made the ‘turn’ last night, or, to speak
more_ Correctly, last night and this morning
combined, for we commenced the wrestle about
ten last night and wound up at da break.”

“Aha, begin to comprehen ; you made
your guests pay for their entertainment,” ob-
served the secretary, with a chuckle.

“ Exactly, that was the little game I played,
and I think you admit that I played it for all it
was worth,’ Andrews remarked, complacently.

“ The two dudes and young Grimgriskin I
pr‘esxqme weé‘etthhe vilptims?”
‘ es, an e jo e of the thin is th
bold Alcibiades took me for a greeiighorn.”at my
“ You don’t say so?”

“Fact! as sure as you are sitting there, he
played mafor a sucker. y idea, of course
whenI inv1ted the dudes here was to ease then;
of a little_of their surplus wealth, if the trick
could po'ss1b1y he worked. I knew they were in
the habit of playing at their clubs, although
not. for any great sums, a thousand or two at a
sitting being the outside, and I calculated that
if I managed the affair shrewdly I could get
them interested in a uiet game, and before it
finded I could make t em pay dearly for their
un.
“ 0n young Grimgriskin I did not count, be-
cause, as a general rule, the young donkey
never has any money and his I. O. U.’s are not
worth the paper on which they are written.

:: But he came prepared for slaughter.”

Oh, he did?" and the secretary rubbed his
hands gleefully together and chuckled as he
thought how woefully the son of oildom had
been disappomtcd in his calculation.

“ es, came with money in one pocket and a
pack of markwi cards in another.”

 Well, well, that was cutting it rather fat!”
‘Oh, yes, but I tumbled to the trick imniedi—
ately. The marked cards were the old style all
played-out, the dealer knew his customer was a
greenhorn and so he stuck him with unsalable
tools.” ‘

(To be continued—commvncm’l in No. 65,)

——~

 

A LONG time ago a celebrated preacher de—

 

. of his hearers were nodding their heads he

I(lPlll\'Stt'v ed and  ;_i‘ . . . -. -,
swung out clear from the wall of which it? ‘ W “m M" ’"efl’m" ‘” ‘“

l

l

livcred a discourse on the text, “ He givetli hi;
beloved sleep.” Observing that a large number

sud—

h'ii‘d to realize the unbounded love which the

MY SHIP.

BY JOSIE C. MALOTT.

 

 

Year after year have I waited in vain

For the ship long expected to come o’er the main,
Freighted with all things for which I have yearned;
Of its whereabouts never a word have. I learned.

Mayhap it has foundered and suck ’neath the
waves, ,

In the dank sea grass, in the coral caves.

Ah, cruel fate to hint such a blow

To the heart that has waited and trusted sol

Should it reach the harbor— oh, bliss divine !—
Such exquisite happiness shall be mine!

I’ll e’en orget the unhapp past

That o’er my life such sha ows have cast.

Oh, hope~laden ship! I shall still watch and wait;
Thou h you come not early I‘ll welcome you late;
For w at would the future hold for me

If I knew my ship had foundered at sea?

Old Pop Hicks, Showman;

Lion Charley’s Luck.

A TALE‘on CIRCUS RIVALRY

BY CAPT. FRED. WHI'I'I‘AKER,

AUTnoR or “PARSON JIM," “JOHN ARMSTRONG, into
CHANIC,” ETc., ETC.

 

 

 

CHAPTER XXXIV.
A DEMORALIZED snow.

THE terrible clamor of the beasts had actually
Stilled the rage of the man in green velvet, who
was chasing Rabbetts; and he turned to run
away, when the little ringmaster shouted fear-
lessly:

“ Come back, you wretch! Come back, if
you are not a villain. Help us part these ani-
mals! Are you a coward too?”

The man hesitated and paused for an instant,
when the noise inside was redoubled and aided
by the Shouts of the excited circus men, who
came running up, half-dressed, from the hotels
and vans, all yelling together.

They roared to the man in velvet:

“Jim! Jim! Go in! Call him off!”

Then came a crashing and rushing inside the
tent, and out rushed twenty or thirty horses,
squealing wildly with terror, in a regular stam—
pede, blinded and frantic.

They dashed straight through the crowd of
men, some perfectly free of harness, others
with broken halter ropes trailing behind them,
knocking down every one in their course; hud-
dled close together in a compact body, and
rushed of! down the road at the wild speed of a
stem e, the clatter of boots (growing fainter
and ainter as they disappeare in the dim dis-
tance.

The next moment, out of the tent came the
white pony, trying to follow, with a tiger claw-
ing‘ at its haunches.

be poor beast staggered a. few steps and fell,
when another tiger came liding stealthin for-
ward, and both ferocious easts stood snarling
at each other over the dying home.

The tableau was broken almost instantly by
the entrance of the four lions, and all the beasts
stood growlin and snarling at each other over
the bed , whi e the circus men recoiled in ter-
ror, an ran to secure some sort of weapons.

Little Rabbetts aftei ward declared he would
never forget the sight of that dark 0 ening of
the white tent in the moonlight, with the savage
brutes fighting over the poor pony.

It was terribly sublime; but particularly un-
comfortable for near spectators.

They hung back, and then some one called
out to Rabbetts:

“ Where’s Elephant Jim? He was here a
moment ago. Where is be?”

They all began to shout together:

“ Jim! Jim!”

The man in green velvet had disappeared.
Only Rabbetts had seen him sneak off, and the
ringmaster had been too much absorbed to
notice him much.

And all this while, King Philip, after his first
burst of fur in the tent, had been silent, and
no one con (1 tell at what moment he would
break out a ain; or from what quarter.

Then a. Si ence fell on the circus men as the
beasts began to tear the pon into pieces and
(g.ng them away, growling an fighting all the

ime.

No one knew what to do. Pop Hicks and
Lion Charley were in the hotel, a good quarter
of a mile away,and the canvas-men and drivers
did not dare to go near the beasts.

Suddenl they heard a shouting down the
street, an two men came up, running at full
speed.

The one ahead was in his shirt-sleeves, and
the moonlight glittered on the big diamonds in
front of his ruffles, though he was bare-headed,
and had cast aside coat and vest as he ran.
Some one called out:

other man?”

It was indeed Elephant Jim, in all his splen-
dor of rich clothing, of which he was as fond
as a gambler. He had been on a terrible spree
for two days, had been dead drunk at the after-
noon show, and had been wakened up by the
noise at the tent.

_Now.he came tearing on, looking like a ma-
niac, his face pale as death his wild eyes glar-
ing, running so fast, with his long stride, that
the man behind him could not come near him,
though he was Lion Charley, who could run
like a deer, as a general thing.

Elephant Jim came running on, straight as
an arrow toward the tent, and as he drew near
he shouted to the Other men in his wild wa :

_“ Whoo ! Clear out of that! I’m Elephant
Jim, and can whip any man in this show, by
gosh! Whoopl”

“ Look to your beast then l” cried the pro-
fessor, in his oudest tones. “ Don’t stand howl-
ing at us, but Show if you’re a man! There he
comes!” ‘

There was a wild, angry trumpet, and King
Philip made is appearance rushing out of the
show at anot er entrance, making straight for
ghetgroup of men, who scattered with great

as .e.

Elephant Jim saw his beast, and instantly
rushed forward, waving his arms wildly and
roaring:

“ Back, ye old thief ! Back! Don’t ya know
your master, gosh darn ye? Back, I say l”

To his horror and amazement, King Philip
for answer to the shout, trumpeted louder and
made for him with such desperate ferocity that
Elephant Jim only escaped instant death b
skipping to one side and running to the bin -
quarters of the furious but clumsy beast.

The circus men, seeing Jim’s danger, raised a
yell to divert Philip’s attention, and the next
moment up came Lion Charley, who ran past
Perkins, crying:

“ Get a fork, man!
on your life !”

Forks were plentiful enough round the show,
and Elephant Jim, seeming well‘nigh crazy
with rage. yet accepted the advice and followad
Lion Charley.

Then wasseen the singular spectacle of two
men, in their shirt-sleeves, fighting an enraged
elephant with nothing but pitch forks, and fac-
ing him as boldly as if he were only a calf.

. Ele haiit Jim went at him, cursing and bowl-
ing; ion Charley made no noise, but exhibited
the most activity and wickedness of the two
men.

When the elephant slapped at them with his
trunk, both men met the blow with the point of
the. pitchforks held with great strength and
skill, so that King Philip roared uloud with

I’ll help! Drive him off,

bullied rage and pain, and hold his trunk
curled up over his bend, to keep it out of
harm’s way, while he charged “ll'l his rinks,
Both men evaded tho churgi- with seeming
ease by leaping aside. and (em-b was sure to in!)

 

Lo'rd appears _to have for a large portion of
this congregation!“ "

King Philip iii the soft skin of his belly as he
riisliul past in his blind fury.

r i .. . . a . 
Ihe (oiitest was so libsm lung that none of the

 

 

 

 

 

 

“ By gosh! it’s Elephant Jim! Who was the ‘

 

 

 

 

  

,  324‘}.

Aer a1 

 

  

.. tr

 

 

 

 

  
 
 
  
 
 

 

parties remembered they were near the carniv-
orous beasts, Iill King Philip, in one of his
rushes, came tearing iigut into the midst of the
growling group, and was at once Set upon by
tigers and lions alike, tearing and clawing.

Frantic with pain and denioralized by the
surprise, the great brute wheeled round and
went off at his best speed, down the road from
whence he had come, roaring all the way and
shaking off lions and tigers like so many kittens
as he went, when Lion Charley shouted to Ele~
phant Jim:

“Let him go, man, let him go. We’ll find
him to morrow. We’ll have all we can do to
cage the rest.”

This was self-evident, as the animals shaken
ofl’ bv King Philip came crouching and gliding
sWiftIy back to the pony, snarling savagely at
the bystanders, as much as to say:

“ Interfere with us at your peril.”

Lion Charley did not intend to do any suoh
thing. He knew better.

He had got rid of the disturbing elephant,
and he knew that the lions and tigers would not
leave the carcass or the pony. While it Would
not be safe for any one, (Well himself to go near
them while they were feeding, till they Were
quite satiatcd With blood and flesh.

Elephant Jim looked dazed and stupid. He-
saw Lon Charley; saw the men in the show,
and seemed not to understand where he was,
now that quiet was restored.

“ Where s Bownssa’i" he asked, vaguely look
ing around him at the men.

“You’re not in Bownsse's shOW,” said Poi.-
Hicks. who had jusr. come upon the scene
“This is my show. Jim Perkins, and God for—
give you for this night‘s work.”

Jim clutched his hair in both hands, and ut-
tered a sort of yell:

“ Not Bownsse’s shOWI My God. then Where
am I? How came Philip here? My God, P0p,
havn I got ’em at last!"

“ Got what? The jim-jams?” asked Pop, ex—
citedly. “By gum. you ought to have ’em,
and go and bu’st your darned brains out on a
rock! Look what you’ve done, arter all I’ve
done loryou, Jim! You’ve ruined me in one
night.”

Indeed, so it seemed, from the looks of What
was left of the show.

Wagons and vans overturned and broken;
the lions and tigers loose: the interior of the
tent a scene of hideous confusion, when they
entered it, avoiding the group of beasts; and,
in the midst of all. the cage of monkeys, all
smashed to bits by King Philip, the poor little
creatures trampled to a jelly in the ruins of
their house by the malicious monster.

No wonder Pop Hicks, in his desperation,
cried aloud to Jim Perkins:

“ God in Heaven forgive you for what you’ve
done, Jim, for I’ll never, never forgive you. Go!

0! I’m ruined!”

Elephant Jim seemed to be sobered by the
sight, for he ceased to look wild, and said apol-
Ogetically:

“No, Pop; by gosh! ye ain’t ruined at all, as
long as I’m alive. I had no hand in this; I
swear it.”

“How did you come here, then?” cried Pop,
still more excitedly, for he thought Jim
was adding insult to injury. “ Your show left
the place four hours ago—yes—five—and here
you are back with your cursed elephant smash-
ing things for me, as if it wasn’t enough you‘d
sold out to the other show at the beginning of
the season. By gum! Jim Perkins, hangin’s
too good for you! You ought to be throwed to
them beasts!”

Jim looked round him stupidly.

“ My show gone! Then who druv Philip
here? I’ve been abed since— here, Noble—you
know where I was. I leave it to you."

Lion Charley, in his even, passionless tones,
replied at once:

“ Certainly I know where you were. You
were dead drunk at noon to day, and I put you
to bed In the hotel, myself. You lay down in

our clothes, and it was I roused you when we
heard the muss.”

Here one of the men uttered a cry of sur-

rise:

“ Then who in blazes performed King Philip?
for he was on afternoon and evening.”

Jim uttered a perfect shriek of rage.

“ Handled my elephant! Show me the man,
and I’ll pound the life out of him!”

CHAPTER XXXV.
CAGING THE LIONS.

PROFESSOR HABBETTS herc raised his voice:

“ I can tell you that, I think.” .

Every body looked at the little ringinaster in
surprise, and Pop asked: _

“ You? Why, what do you know about it?”

Thus urged, the little professor told his story
in his usual grandiloquent way, concluding by

 

sayifig: _
‘ e was a lar e man, but not as big as you,
Mr. Perkins. 6 had on your ring-dress of
reen and gold, and Bownsse’s cart was wait-
ing for him behind, driven by Tom Pride. I
recognized his face. Who the other man was I
don’t know, but he drove the elephant down to
this show, sir, yes, down to this show. And
when I shouted for help, sir, he ran at me to
kill me—yes, sir, to kill me, I consolentiously
believe. And when this trouble was at its
hight, sir, he fled—yes, sir, fled like a coward.
But I can swear to his face in any court, Sir,
thou h I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him before.
But think I have—yes, sir, I think I_have.”

Here Lion Charley asked, in his quiet way:

“ Where do you think you’ve seen him?”

Rabbetts hesitated. I .

“I don’t know—I’m not sure; but I think it
Is the same man that was put out of our show
at Popokus for raising a disturbance.” .

Jim Perkins had been listening hungrily, and
now he burst into a yell:

“ That man! Gosh darn his ugly picter, I’ll
fix him for it.” _

“Then go and do it, and don’t talk about 1t,”
interposed Lion Charley, quietly. “ It’s the
same man, and his name’s Stone.’

Jim looked round him in despair for a mo-
ment, mutterin :

“And I’m al alone here. Who’ll help me
catch King Philip?”

“ Help me cage my beasts and we’ll all help
you,” answered Lion Charley. “Now’s your
time, Jim, to show what you’re made of.
Your brute did the mischief. You’re the man
to help.”

Jim’s only anSvi'er was: .

“ Give your orders. I ain’t used to this kind
'of beast, but you know your business.”

Lion Charley held out his hand.

“Do as 1 tell you, and I’ll say you’re a man.
Let’s see to the ca ges first.” .

They hunted up the remnants of the big cage,
and found it less damaged than they had ex-
pected. .

King Philip, in his charge, had upset it and
burst the doors open, but beyond that it was
still safe to hold the beasts. _

They dragged it outside as near to the ani-
mals as they dared, the bright meonlight asmst-
in them very materially in their work.

The cage containing the tigress and her cubs
had escaped, and they found the two leopards
hiding under the broken seats macorner of the
tent, not daring to go out and 30m the larger
beasts, though they crept as close as they
thought safe, and eyed the feast hungrily,
whining to each other.

Lion Charley called all hands to form a great
circle, impressing the services of t ‘e_ hundreds
of townspeople, who had come flocking out of
their beds, attracted by the n01se. .

He instructed them to remain quiet, unless
the beasts approached them, when they were to
shout together in chorus and frighten them
back.

Then he lighted his furnaces .and heated a
large quantity of irons, after which _he ordered
the cage to be backed close to the animals.

By this time the unfortunate pony was al-
most devoured, and several of the animals were
standing still, glaring round them and licking
their chops. _

“Now’s the time,” said the li0n~tamer in a,
low voice to Jim. “ Come on, and do as I do.
The two men took up one of the little fur-

naCes by the long handles. each carrying one Of
the glowing irons in his other hand, and carried
the apparatus boldly toward the lions and tigers.

They were allowed to get within nearly forty
feet when one of the tigers, still unsatiated,
ma e a snarling rush toward them, open
mouthed.

“ Dr0p it,” said Charley, quietly.

In half a second the furnace was down, and
both men faced the tiger, an iron in each hand.

“ Back, sir, back I” commanded the lion-tamer,
in cold, even tones. “ Into the cage, sir, quick!”

The tiger pauSed in its rush, to crluch for a
spring, when Lion Charley, quick as a flash, ran
in and planted both irons on the beast’s nose.

With a bowl of fear and pain the tiger turned
and ran, with the instinct of long training to
the only place of refuge it knew—the open cage.

“ Charge!” cried Charley. “ Back, back, into
the cage, all of you! In! In!”

Elephant Jim kept wiih him, pace by pace,
as they charged the collection of brutes that
ha-I looked so formidable but a moment before:
and, to the awe of the amazed townspeople,
who stood IOoking on afar off, came a chorus of
growls and y ells, as the whole mob, like a fleck
of sheep, turned and huddled inio the cage, fol
Inwing the demoralizrd tiger, and crowding
over each other, in their eagerness to escape the
red-hot irons.

Aiiioment later, Lion Charley had pulled t(.
the door, and passed a chain securely round the
bars to replace the broken fastening.

Then he turned, and called out:

“ Bring the spare cage for the leopards. Lei
them go at what’s left of the meat. They won‘.
leave it.”

His prophecy proved true. No sooner were
the big beasts caged than the two leopards came
gliding out, like snakes, from their hiding-place
and fell on the remnants of the feast with an
avidity that showed how hungry they Were.
The spare cage—a small aflair, used in shift-
ing the animals—was brought out after a while,
and rolled near to the leopards, which imme-
diately began to drag away their pieces, as if
they feared to be robbed, snarling all the while
but evidently afraid.

Then the door was throw open, and Lion
Charley, manifesting no haste or excitement,
picked up the remnants of the unfortunate
pony that the leopards had left, and threw
them ostentatiously into the open cage, so the
beasts could see it.

Then he said to Jim:

“ Come on and let’s drive ’em in. They’re
slippery. Head ’em off if they start to run
from you. Fresh irons.”

The two men separated and maneuvered ex-
actly as if they were try ing to drive two skittish
colts through a gate.

The leopards, small as they were, proved
more troublesome than the big beasts, the more
so that the cage was strange to them; but after
a half hour’s active work, they were safely
housed at last, and Lion Charley said to Pop:

“ Now, Mr. Hicks, if you’ll attend to the re~
pairs here, J imand I will hunt up the stock and
bring it back. This show’s not dead yet, and
let me tell you one thing, before the boys: I
never went out with a show yet that didn’t
clear itself and come into uarters at last with
a clear profit in the box. his night I’ll show
you Lion Charley’s luck.”

CHAPTER XXXVI.
CONCLUSION.
LION CHARLEY and E.ephant Jim left the
show at once, while Pop Hicks was mournfully
turning his attention to repairing damages, and
took their way to the hotel.

Out of all the circus stock only one horse re-
mained, the stout piebald that traveled in the
road-cart, and that was safe sim ly because it
had been put up at the hotel stab e.

The two men got out the cart,harnessed up the
piebald and drove back past the tent, where they
found every one hard at work, with the cheer
ful resignation to disaster common among
showmen, repairing damages and packing up
to move, though they had no teams to draw the
wagons.

They had almost passed it when they heard
some one behind them call out: '

“ Hi! hi! Charley! oh, Charley I”

“ Looking round Elephant Jim exclaimed:

“Gosh darn my skin! it it ain’t Sally Hicks
and Flirt. Well, I’m glad the mare warn’t in
the inuss, too.”

It was Sally herself, and she galloped up to
say hurriedly:

“ I couldn’t stay behind. Pa didn’t see me, I
guess; he's so busy. You’ll want all you can

et."

Lion Charley shook his head.

‘: We don‘t want you. This is dangerous
work, MiSs Sally. You’d better go back.”

“ I won’t go back,” said the girl, obstinately.
“ I couldn’t stand it at the bots any more when
I heard what was going on. Tom Fowler’s
saved his second ring horse and he’ll be after
me Very soon. I tell you, you’ll want all you
can get. Here he comes. We ain’t dead yet
in this show. Cheer up.”

Her tone was so pleasant and jolly, her gay-
ety so contagious that Lion Charley could not
resist a smile as he answered:

 

“Well, if you will, I sup 056 you must. But
let Tom do I: e coaxing. e can’t afford to
lose you.”

Here the clatter of boots announced the com-
ing of Tom Fowler, the bareback rider, who
came up to say as he passed:

“ I’ll go ahead and find Philip. That’s the
first, ain’t it, Jim?”

“ Yes,” answered Jim, gloomily, “ of ye don’t,
ye’ll never get yer stock back, and when ye do,
there’ll be a muss, you bet.”

Tom waved his hand and galloped away,
while the piebald put on a good burst of trot-
ting speed and took them for four good miles
without a break. .

Then they saw Tom Fowler’s big gray. that
had been nearly a mile ahead, on the road,
halted, by something dark that lay in the mid-
dle of the roadway. ' .

“ By goshl” muttered Jim, turning white,
“ he’s struck somethin’.” _

He did not say another word till they came
up, when he jumped out of the cart and ran to
ins set the dark mass.

bat it was, was 'hard to say at first, but
they could distinguish a dead horse, a vehicle
splintered to fra meats, and the bodies of two
men, all battere out of shape, in such a man-
ner as to be utterly unrecognizable. _

“ He has caught them,” said Lion Charley, in
a low tone. “ I wonder who they are?”

Here Sally, who had come up, cried out:

“ Why, they‘re show peOplel look! Good
heavens, Jim, if you weren’t standing there I’d
sav it was your ring-dress.” _

Jim turned his eyes slowly on Lion Charley.

“ The gal’s r-ght,” he said. “ lt’sthat snoozer
Stone that wanted to drive elephants. , He’s got
it now, pore feller.”

“ Then this is Bownsse’s wagon and the other
man’s Tom Pride,” said Charley. musingly.
“ Thev’ve paid dear for their trick. But where’s

‘ Phili ?"

KTgm Fovgler’s voice was rather shaky as he
answored: . .

“ On ahead still. but I swear it’s an ugly Job
to hunt him up to-night.”

Lion Charley nodded._ .

“ You’re right, bov, it is; but_it’s_ got to be
done, for all that. If you don’t like it, go back.

ha’n’t blame ou.’

I 8“ But I shall?” interrupted Sally Hicks, her
eyes flashing. “ I came out to get my father’s
horses and I’m not going back Without them.
Come, Flirt.” .

So saying she galloped away straight down
the, road as hard as she could tear, and Lion
Charlev laid on his whip to follow, which he
did for-another four or five miles. I .

Tom Fowler, asnamed of his hesdation, raced
ahead with Sally. and when next they halted
it was on the top of a hill, to come tearing back
full soced. . . _ .

“ They’ve struck him,” said Jim, hurriedly.
“Rim on. if you don’t want to lose the cart;
turn him round and le‘. him go.”

Lion Charley instantly wheeled round the
cart, tied the reins to the dashboard so they

 

could not trail, and leaped out on one Side,
while Elephant Jim followed his example on
the other.

They had brought with them along coil of
rope to 110058 the elephant, and they had barely
time to lug it out to a tree by the roadside, when
King Philip canie tearing over the hill in hot
pursuit of the two teasers, and the elephant—
catchers pre ared for their prey.

Presently tally Hicks dashed past. screaming:

“ He’s wrecked the other show! Kill him!”

Tom Fowler shouted excitedly:

“ Bowusse has gone to smash I Kill the brute!
kill him!”

They hardly caught more than the words
“kill him,” when up ramped the monster, its
head and fore-quarters streaming with blood,
where the lions had clawed it, trumpeting with
a savage energy no one had ever heard from it
before, and so blind in its fury that it neVer saw
Noble or Perkins.

The actiVe tamers were able to rush out, one
from each side of the road where big trees gren
opposite, and had the nooses round Philip}
hind legs in a trice, made of tough wire-rope.
strong enough to support many tons.

Down fell Philip sprawling, and before I u
could riSe Jim Was at one side of his head
Charley at the other.

The rest of the contest was but a more difi
cult and prolonged repetition of the fight H
which the monster had once before been sub»
dued.

When it was over, and King Philip lay
:lreff‘hcd out and begging for mercy the sun
had risen. the men of several farm-houses 1‘! und
had gathered to see the fight, and one of them
said. in tones of great awe:

“ Golly, mister, youall’s terrible men to pun—
ish a beast like that, but if you go over the hill
and see what he’s done, you’ll be sorry ye didn’t
kill him.”

“ Wh , what’s there?” asked Jim, wiping his
brow, a l traces of drunkenness gone.

“ Come and see,” said the farmer.

The; followed him to the top of the hill and
behel a scene of devastation, compared to
which the destruction effected in the Hicks show
was a “ flea-bite,” so to speak.

It was evident that the elephant, in his
maniacal rage, with the diabolical malignity
which distinguishes his kind in such firs, had
surprised the caravan in full march on the road,
had rushed at and upset van after van with his
tusks, and had then turned on the helpless teams
and had trampled them, one by one, into a
shapeless mass of gory flesh, destroying the vans
anfgewagons with almost human ingenuity and
spi .

Horrified at the scene, the two tamers turned
and went back, and nothing was said till they
got near the prostrate elephant that had done
the mischief.

Then Elephant Jim said, in a gloomy kind of
way:

" I suppose he’s got to be killed. Charley.”
Charley looked at King Philip closely and
shook his head, saying:

“No. This settles the matter between Pop
and Bownsee for good and all. I told you once
that I never went out with a show but what it
ended the season with a full treasury. Thats
Lion, Charley’s luck, and it’s never failed me
yet.

 

Lion Charley’s word’s proved true. The plot
by which Stone had hoped to ruin the Hicks
show had proved the cause of his own death
and the complete destruction of the Bownsse
concern, with the financial collapse, utter and
final, of Onion George.

Bownsse himself and most of his ople es-
caped uninjured from the attack ogethe ele-
phant, which confined its rage to the horses and
vans, but the show was in no condition for fur-
ther service and had to disband.

Pop Hicks, on the contrary, repaired his
broken vans, recovered his horses, and was able
to show again, within three days, at the end of
which time little Moone made his appearance,
much the worse for wear, having been kept a
prisoner in the Kauawha mountains by a put ty
of thick-skulled moonshiners with reVOlveis,
who were so persuaded he was a revenue de-
tective that only his small size and obviou-i in
oflensiveness induced them finally to believe his
story and release him.

From that time forward the show was a tre-

mendous success, and King Philip, the hero of
so many ferocious memories, became the great-
est card after Lion Charley.
When a show succeeds, there is no way of
making' money so fascinatin and delightful,
and from that day forth Pop Tlicks’s sh0w was
crammed at every town and had to make two-
day stands at places that had formerly been
thought unsafe for one day.

At the end of the season Pop came in with a
handsome balance to his credit, and went into
winter-quarters, with all hands as “happy as
clams at high water,” as he said.

When " Pop Hicks‘s Great Show” started out
next spring. it had the road all to itself, and the
reader may be interested in seeing a. list of its
principal attractions as stated on the bills for
the day, which ran as follows:

Massas. HICKS AND MOONE . . . . . . . . . . . . .. Managers.
MR. 0. H. MOONE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..Advance Manager.
Paorassoa RABBE'I‘TS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..Ringmaster.

MR. TOM FOWLER,
Premiere Bareback Rider.

MRS. TOM FOWLER (nee M’lle Hippolyte),
Premiere Lady Rider.

MR. CHARLES NOBLE
AND
MRS. CHARLES NOBLE (née Miss Sally Hicks),
in their unparalleled act entitled " The Lords of Cre-
ation,‘ introducing a den of trained lions and tigers.

MR. JAMES PERKINS (Elephant Jlm),
with his magnificent Elephant,
KING PHILIP,

Tan LARGEST ELEPHANT IN THE WonLn
as tame as a dog.

With a host of other attractions too numerous to
mention.
Admission . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..50 cents
Children half price. Children in arms free.
That show prospered so well that next year
the firm name was “Moone and Hicks ”—Pop
having retired on his money, and little Moone
makes money now. _
Onion George went into the museum busmess
and failed.
THE END.

 

 

Red Jacket.

A MONUMENT is to be erected to the memory
of Red Jacket—the famous Seneca Indian chief
and orator, by the Buffalo Historical Society.

An Indian chief more of an orator than a
warrior is an anomaly, yet such was Red J ack-
et, the “ Last. of the Senecas,” as he has been
appropriately called. His original name was
O-te-ti-ami, or “ Always Ready,” but when his
rousing eloquence secured him election as sa-
chem, he was named Sa-go—ye-wat—ha, or.“ H:
keeps them awake.” During the Revolution a
British ofiicer presented him with a_ scarlet
jacket, when it was worn out he received an-
other, and from being robed ever after in red
he came to be known as Red Jacket.

He was born about 1750. at Old Castle, near
the foot of Seneca Lake. Little is known of his
early life except that he was fleet enough of
foot to do good service as a messenger. Per-
haps his powers as a runner made him realize
sometimes that discretion is the better part of
valor,'for fighting with the rest of the Senecas,
the most numerous of the Six Nations, on the
British side in our struggle for independence,
he gained little reputation for bravery, and a
rival declared that during a battle he was cut-
ting up a. stolen cow instead of the enemy.
The United Stat-:5 made peace with the Indians

 

 

 

“Mn. .x ,3 »~-: :zrrw

at Fort Stanwix in 1784, and there Red Jacket
protested eloquently but v inly against the
treaty and row in the favor of his tribe. His
weakness in danger and his eloquence away
from it have led to his comparison with Demos
thenes and Cicero. In 1792 Red Jacket was one
of the fifty chiefs invited to consult with George
Washington at Philadelphia, and in his address:
before Washington’s deputies occurs this bit of
Indian eloquence:—

" Brother—Appointed agent to conVerse with
us upon the affairs of our peaCe, continue to
hear. We, your brothers of the Five Nations,
believe that the Great Spirit let this island drop
down from above. We also belieVe in His su-
perintendency over this whole island. It is He
who gives peace and piosperity. and He also
sends evil. But prosperity has teen 'ours.
American brethren—all ti-e good whic can
spring out of this island you erjoy. We there-
fore Wish that we and our children, and our
(-1 ildren’s children, may partake with you in
that enjoyment.”

In addressing Quaker deputies in his own
country Reo Jaf‘kt t remarked :—

" Brothers—“7e hope 3 on will make yom
minds easy. We who are now here are but chi!
am), the anoients being deceased. We kn0w
that your fathers and ours tiansacted business
together, and that you look up to the Great
Spirit for his direction and assistance, and take
no part in war. We suppose you were all born
on this island and conmder you as brethren.
Your ancestors came over the great water and
ours were born here. This ought to be no im-
pediment to our cpnsidering each other as breth-
ren.

A single paragraph from Red Jacket’s oration
in memory of a dead Indian superintendent is: —

“Brother—In conformity to the geod old an-
cient customs of our forefathers we now level
the grave of our friend. We gather leaves and
weeds and strew them over the grave, and en-
deavor to banish grief from our minds as much
as we can.”

find in speaking at a council in Hartford he
sai :—

“ We stand on a small island in the bosom of
the great waters. We are encircled. We are
encompassed. The evil spirit rides upon the
blast and the waters are disturbed. They arise,
they press upon us, and the waves once settled
over us we disappear forever. Who, then, lives
to mourn us? None. What marks our exter-
mination? Nothing. We are mingled with the
common elements.”

Seeing that when the Indians came into con-
tact with the whites they adopted all of tie
vices and few of the virtues of civilization, Red
Jacket became bitterly opposed to Christianity.
A missionary by the name of Cram proposed
settling among the Senecas, but after their coun—
cil had heard his offer and deliberated upon it
for two hours, Red Jacket replied unfavorabl y
in what has been generally regarded as the
greatest oratorical effort of his life. We give it
in fullz—Friend and Brother—It was the will of
the Great S irit that we should meet together
this day. 6 orders all things, and has given
us a fine day for our council. He has taken His
garment from before the sun and caused it to
shine with brightness upon us. Our eyes are
opened,that We see clearly; our ears are un-
stopped, that we have been able to hear dis-
tinctly the words you have spoken. For all
these favors we thank the Great Spirit and Him
only.

“Brother—This council-fire was kindled by
you. It was at your request that we come to-
gether at this time. We have listened with at—
tention to What. you have said. You requested
us to speak our minds freely. This gives us
great joy, for we now consider that we stand
upright before you and can speak what we
think. All have heard your voice, and all speak
to you as one man. Our minds are agreed.

“Brother—you say you want an anSWrr to
your talk before you leave this place. It is
right you should have one, as you are a great
distance from home and we do not wish to do»
tain you. But We will first look back a little
and tell you what our fathers have told us and
what we have heard from the white people.

“Brother—Listen to What we say. There
wasa time when our forefathers owned this
great island. Their seats extended from the
rising to the setting sun. The Great Spirit had
made it for the use of Indians. He had created
the buffalo, the deer and other animals for food.
He had made the bear and the beaver. Their
sains served us for clothing. He had scattered
them over the country and taught us how to
take them. He had caused the earth to pro
duce corn for bread. All this He had done for
His red children because He loved them. If
We had some disputes about our hunting-ground
they were generally settled without the shed-
ding of much blood. But an evil day came
upon us. Your forefathers crossed the great
water and landed on this island. Their num~
hers were small. They found friends and not
enemies. They told us they had fled from their
own country for fear of wicked men, and had
come here to enjo their religion. They asked
for a small seat. e took pity on them, grant—
ed their request: and they sat down among us.
We gave them corn and meat; they. gave us
poison in return.

“ The white eople, brother, had now found
our country. idings were carried back, ani
more came among us. Yet We did not fear
them. We took them to ‘ 6 friends. The
called us brothers. We L liaved them and
gave them a larger seat. At length their num
here had great y increased. They wanted met e
land; the y wanted our country. Our eyes were
opened and our minds became une sy. Wars
took place. Indians were hired to fight against
Indians and many of our people were de-
stroyed. They also brought strong liqusr
among us. It was strong and powerful and has
slain thousands.

“Brother—Our seats were once large and
yours were small. You have now become a
great people, and we have ~carcely a place left
to spreai our blankets. You haVe got our
country, but are not satiified; you want to
force your religion upon us.

“ Brother—Continue to listen. You say that
you are Sent to instruct us how to worship the
Great Spirit agreeably to His mind, and if we
do not take hold of the religion which you
white people teach we shall be unhappy here
after. You say that you are right and we are
lost. How do we know this to be true? We
understand that your religion is written in a
book. If it was intended for us as well as you.
why has not the Great Spirit given to us, and
not only to us, but why did He not give to our
forefathers the knowledge of that book, with
the means of understanding it rightly? We
only know what you tell us about it. HOW
shall we know when to bilieve, being so often
deceived by the white people?

“ Brother—You say there is but one way to
worship and serve the Great Spirit. If there is
but one religion, whv do you white people differ
so much about it? Why not all agreed, as you
can all read the book?

“ Brother— We do not understand these things.
We are told that your religion was given toyour
forefathers and has been handed down from
father to son. We also have a religion which
was given to our forefathers and has been
handed down to us, their children. We wor-
ship in that way. It teaches us to be thankful
for all the favors that we receive, to love each
other and to be united. We never quarrel about
religion.

“ Brother—The Great Spirit has made us all,
but He has made a great difference between His
white and red children. He has given us differ-
ent complexions and different customs. To you
'He has given the arts. To these He has not
opened our eyes. We know these things to be
true. Since He has made so great a difference
between us in other things, why may we not
conclude that He has given us a different re-
ligion according to our understanding‘f The
Great Spirit does right. He knows what IS best
for His children; we are satisfied.

“ Brother—IVs do not wish to destroy your
religion or take it from you. We only want to
enjoy our own.

“ Brother—You say you have not come to get

 

ourland or. our money, but to enlighten our
minds. I Will now tell you that l have bun
at your meetings and saw you collect money
from the meeting. I cannot tell what this
money was inteno ed for, but suppose it was for
your minister, and if we shou-d conform to
your way of thinking, perhaps you may want
some fiom us.

“Brother—We are told that you have been
preaching to the white people in this plat-e.

hese piople are our neighbors. We are ac
qul‘iuted with them. We will wait a little
while and see what effect your preaihing has
upon them. If we find it does them good,
makes them honest and less disposed to cheat
Indians, we Will then consider again of what
you have said.

" Brother—You have now heard your answer
to your talk, and this is all we have to say at
pi esent As we are going to part, v e will come
and takeyou by the hand and hope that the
Great Spirit will piotem. you on your journey
and retain you sale to your friends.”

Missionary Cram, who was the occasion of
this st tech, also afforded Red Jacket an oppor-
tunity to perpetrate his only pun. "Not con»
tent,” the sachem said, "with the wrongs the
white men have done to our people, they are
now seeking to ‘Cram’ their doctrines down
our throats.” In conversing with another cler-
gy man Red Jacket thus expressedhimself:

"Brotl-er—If you white men murdered the

Son of the Great Spirit, A e Indians had nothing
to do With it, and it is none of our affair. If he
had come among us we would not have ,killed
him; we would have treated him well; and the
white peOple who killed him ought to be damned
for domg it. You must make amends for that
crime a ourselves.”
_ In 1809 Red Jacket shoWed his friendly feel-
ings toward the United States by informii g of
Tecumseh. During the war of 1812 he fought
With the Senecas on the American side and was
present at the battle of Chippewa, but his con-
stitutional nervousness moved him to keep out
of skirmishes and lesser engagements. Some
Indians were once heard taunting him for be-
ing afraid to carry home a scalp, when it was
given him to show as his own trophy. In the
latter part of his life Red Jacket bee-rims a con-
firmedqdrunkard: but he had sense enough to
leave _liquor alone when he was to appear at a
connoil. He would often make a stirring speech
and an hour later be found drunk on the ground.
In general Red Jacket was very particular in
his dress, chblng ever to make a good impres-
sion. .HIS appearance was sin gularl y command-
ing; his sharp black eyes, proud lips, aquiline
nose and high forehead indicated superior
genius, and W! en he spoke the whole man was
transfigured wth eloqui nce. To his last breath
he opposed the gamblsis and blackcoats, as he
called the laid speculators and missionaries,
who Were striving to deprive his people of their
land and their peculiar Great Spirit. Red
Jacket was twice marritd: the first wife be de-
serted on account of her alleged infidelity; the
second he left for a few months on her conver-
s10n to Christianity, but returned to her again.
Many .of his numerous children died of con-
sumption, and his biographer, William L. Stone,
E'sq., relates that when asked about his children
his answer was:

“Red Jacket was once a great man and in fa-
vor With the Great Spirit. He was a lofty pine
among the smaller trees of the forest. But af-
ter years of glory be degraded himself by drink-
ing the fire- water of the white man. The Great
Spirit-has looked upon him in anger, and His
lightning has Slripped the pine of its branches.”

Red Jacket was not desti ute of a rude sort of
Wit. When he called on Lafayette the latter
remai ksd on the changes since their last mtef-
ing. “Ah!” said Red J cket, “time has not
been so seVere upon _\ on as upon me. It has left
you a fresh countenance and hair to cover _\ our
head, while to me—~bebold!" and he showed his
bald head. Learning Lafayette wore a wig,
the sachem thought of taking a scalp to replace
his lost locks. Asked for an opinion concerning
a gluttonous chief named Hot Bread, Red Jacket
characterized himz—“Big man here,” putting
one hand on his stomach, “ but very small here!”
raising the other hand to his head.

The Clristian party among the Senecas at
last formally deposed Red Jacket from the
sachemship, but the Vei erable orator shook cfi‘
his lethargy. made a trip to Washington. and
agitated until he let overed his lost dignity.
true" he lell into Comparative imbecility, sunk
so low as to exhibit himself in museums for
n-oi ey. was kVtI] advei used to make a speech.
EXCCSEBS had so undermined his constitution
that he was unable to rally from asevere attack
of cholera morbus, and on the 20th of January,
1S30, he breathed his last at his house in Seneca
v1llege. His remains reposed in the cemetery
of the Indian reservation without any monu~
ment for nine years, until the actor, Henry
Placide raised a subscription to erect a marble
slab hearing this inscription :—

IA-GO-YE—WAT-HA

(He keeps them awake),
RED JACKET,
Chief of the
Wolf Tribe of the Senecas,
The Friend and Protector of His People.

Died J any 20, 1830,

Aged 78 years.

 

 

 

w A few Advertisements will be inset-teal
on this page at the ratr of fifty cents per hm
nonpareil measurement.

A BIDY‘DIE Wanted.

An erson in New York or Brooklyn having a 52-
inch icycle for sale will please send piicc and de-
scription to R. W. M UNS, 41 Water St, New York.

JUST OUT! a
The Dime Dialogues No. 3|.

Containing twenty Minor Dramas, Extravagahzas,
Burles- qucs, Farce. I): ess and Humorous Pecos, for
the Amateur Stage, Parlors, Schcols and Exhibitions.
All original and by favorite authors, professors,
teachers and amateurs.

For sale by all newadealers, or sent, pOst-paid, on
receipt of price— ten cents.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS.
98 William Street, New York.

 

 

 

The Dime Dialect Speaker No 23.

A “taking ” collectiOn of Irish, German-English.
Cockney, Negro, Yankee, and Western Vernaculai
speeches, recitaticns and narratives, by the nest
American wits and humorists. Prepared expressly
for the Dime Speaker Series.

For sale b Neivsdealers everywhere, or will be
93m, postpaid, to any address, on receipt of price.
1 cents.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,
9:! William St... New YOFL

 50 “Floral Gem” Cards, all new designs with

. name in fancy type, and 20 18' go Photographs ofpla—
ceiof interest in New York in illuminated album, sent post aid for
14 cts. In stamps for portage, &c. Capitol Card 00., llarifon ,Cf'Illl.

A Leading London Phyl'
ician establishes an
Office in New York
for the Cure of

EPILEPTIG FITS.
fiamAmJournalofL’edicine.

. b. Maserole ate of London) who makesaapeclalty
Mggugpsy, has wltlgnt doubt treate'd and cured more cases
than any other living physician. His success has slmply been
astonishing' we have heard of cases of OVer 20 years stand-
In success 11y cured. by him. He has published a work on
thfi disease, which he sends with a large bottle of his won-

 

fr etc a sufferer who may send their express
 3.1T“:er . n e advise any one wishing a cure to ad
dress Dr. AB. EESEBOLE. No. no John St, New York.

consumpiinii.‘

‘ I have aposltlve remedy for the above disease; by its use
thousands of cases of the worst kind and of long standing
have been cured. Indeed so stron Is my faith In ts efficac ,
that I wIIl send TWO BOTTLESF EE, together with a v A

UABLE TBEATISE on this disease, to an sufferer. Give Ex.
press «I: P. 0. address. DR. T. A. SLOCU 181 Pearl 82., 2s. Y.

THE BlfigAIES§IgyCING I!!! Illii’fli“§‘l§§f’“

tncu'i . - ., 120 Fulton St, New ‘1».l‘k.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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MY STUDY.

BY JO'KING.

 

 

The first thing that your eyes behold
On entering, is dust,
Which falls alike, so it is said,
On the unjust. or just: _
Then seated on a three:legged chair——
The other got knocked out—
You see me looking very gi im
For things to write about.

I sit beside a desk that‘s full
Of scribbled odds and ends, '
Fair half beginnings of great things
That promised excellence—
That promised much. but came to naught,
Quaint songs, heart-stirring odes,
The former by the basketful,
The last by wagon-loads.

A lamp upon a crippled stock
That reels and is unsteady,
Au almanac and calendar
To tell when meals are ready;
A dictionary little used
And yet it has its back off;
A paper-knife that's difiicult
At times to keep the track of.

Some books, not very new at best,
And neither very many,

With treatises on Siving Grace,
And some to save a penny.

Some n0vels on the general plan,
Anl rather mediot're.

Wherein the heroine leaves the man
To marry golden lucre.

Upon the mantle you Will see
Rare things of china— broken,
Presented to me years ago,

And each is Friendship’s token.
There is a one-armed dancing-girl.
Her dainty foot she shows off,
And there‘s Napoleon looking sad

Because he has his nose off.

And there is General Washington
With one good shoulder lacking.

And there’s the Duke of Wellington
Sick. for his skull is cracking.

And that Newfoundland terrier hound
You see has run his head off,

, And all the spots upon his back

He has begun to shed off.

That old arm-chair beside the grate,
Although it is outlandish,
I cannot say it e’er belonged _
To that queer knight, Miles Standish.
It once belonged to my grandpap,
The only thing he willed me.
And that’s the reason his demise,
So sudden, nearly killed me.

That pencil sketch of New York Bay
Is very fine and watery;

I drew it all myself, that is
I drew it at a lottery. _

And many more things you might see
Within this room of g ory—

I‘ll let some future sheriff give
A better inventory.

 

Around the Camp-Fire.

BY CAPTAIN RINGWOOD.

 

 

How Rube and Billee “Slang” the
Bufllers.
“HE HE HE El Ho-ho-ho-o-o!” roared Old

Rube, lying back on the grass, and fairly kick-
ing up his heels. His comrade, sworn chum,
Bill Grady, had said something to him in an
undertone, and straightway the old fellow had
gone off almost in convulsions.

“ Lordy, Billee, y’u’ll kill this ole boss, yit!”
he gasped, and then another fit supervened,
that stopped his talking for fully five minutes.

Every eye, aglow with eagerness, was fixed
on Rube and Grady, for they knew something
rich was coming.

“ Confountl it all, Rube, stop yer cacklin’ an’
tell us what it ar’!” cried one of the boys.

“ What it ar’! He—hehe—e! What it ar’! Ax
Billee, he’ll tell yer, fer I ken’t—fer larfin’!”

But he finally exhausted himself, and rose to
a sitting posture.

“ Boyees,” said he, with sudden gravity, that
was even more ludicrous than his laughing—
“ boyees, did enny uv yer ever tie two ole tom-
cats’ tails tergither an’ sling ’em over the ole
’oman’s cloze-line? Say ’9”

“ Yes! Sart’iu! Mennya time!” were utter-
ed bv several of the party.

“ Funny, warn’t it, boyees? But did enny uv
yer ever rope two bufiler-bulls thet-a-way, and
see them fou‘t?”

“ That’s a whoppin’ big lie!” suddenly ejacu-
lated old Ben Tucker.

“ “Maths 8. lie, Benny?” asked Rube, good-
naturedly.

“ Why, ’bout them bufflers,” said Ben.

“ I didn’t say as 1 bed done it, did I? I on’y
axed ef enny uv yer hed,” replied Rube, with a
wink.

“Yer lie!" snapped Ben, who sullenly turned
away, and recommenced on the rib he had just
toasted.

“ Bit, boyees, it hain’t no lie,” continued
Rube. “Me an’ Billee thar did fix ther buf-
flers! didn’t we, Billee?”

“ We jess did.” replied that worthy.

“ Yes, we did. an’—he—he-h-o-o!-—we got fixed
ourselves! didn’t we, Billee?”

“ Nothin’ else.” said the trapper, graVely.

“ 1 tell yer, boyees, it war jess the dodrotted-
est, funniest thing thet ever these hyar ole eyes
-—but I’ll tell yer how me an’ Billee fixed ther
bulls.

“ Onc’t him an’ me war down by the Staked
Plains, lookiu’ aroun’ an’ havin‘ a good time
pertickler, fer the buffiers war es plenty es
wood-lice in a Kaintuck bottom, an’ es tame es
a forty -year old sheep wi’ a bell onto him.

“What wi’ huntin’ the critters an’ dodgiu’
the Comanch’, we kep’ it up lively, but by’m—
by ther thing got to be what ther chaps calls
mozioternous, an’ we got thinkin’ up sum plan
uv havin’ a leetle wariety.

" One night when we war lyin’ in camp
thinkin’ ’bout how we sh’u’d work it Billee ups
an’ axes the ’bout ther cats an’ cloze~ ine.

“ I hed a good larf over thinkin’ how I done
it onc’t, an’ war standin‘ lookin’ at ’em, all
doubled up wi’ lai'fiu’ when the ole man skipped
up behind an’ knocked me clean into ther brier-
patch wi’ a clapboard laid on ’bout hyar, an’ I
ups an’ tells him all about it.

“ ‘ We hain’t got no cats,’ sez Billee, ‘ but we
ar’ got bufflers, an’ they’ll do, I reckon, for want
0’ better.’

"' At fust I thort be war jokin’, but when he
said how it could he did, I jess like to ’a’ bu’st-
ed wi’ on'y lhz’nkin’ how funny ’twould be.

“Next mornin‘, airly, we war up an’ gittin’
reder fer the spree.

“We both picked out ther best lariats we
hed, an‘ takin’ a mar’ ’un along, we mounted
an’ put fer the perairy, whar we see a drove
the evenin’ afore.‘

“Shore enuff thar they warI—a bu’stin’
drOVe uv ‘eni. an‘ the ole bulls purty much ter-
gither OVer by the edge uv the timmer.

“ ‘See them two ole chaps, clost alongside
one ’nuther?‘ sed Billee.

“ ‘ Them’s our meat,’ sez I, an’ arter scoutih’
aroun‘ through the timmer a bit, we kum purty
high to whar they war feedin’.

“ ‘ Ar’ yer ready, Rube?’ sez Billee.

“ ‘ I jess ar’,’ sez I, an’ out we bu’sted, wuss’n
a hurricane, an’ afore ther bulls knowed whar
we war, we war alongside.

“ ‘ I’ve got mine!’ yelled Billee, a second arter
I see him throw his lariat.

“ Ther words warn’t more’n out afore I hed
my feller all fast an’ tight.

“ ‘ Quick, Rube! this—a-way!’ shouts Billee, es
ther two bulls broke away runnin’ side by side,
jess es ef they war hitched in harness.

‘ I got over to whar B 1 co war as soan es
posserble, an’ handed him my larist, which he
took an’ tied fast onto ther eend uv his‘n, an’
then drapped ’em both.

“ ‘ Now fer to start ~em different ways,’ sez
Billee, an‘ we begun pressin’ them brutes so
hard that they shied off an’ started, one turn«
in’ta leetle south’ard an‘ t'other more to ther
eas .

“ When we see thet. we pulled up and waited
to see ther fun.

i

r “ Lordy, boyees! I wish you on’y ked ’a’ seen
them bulls when ther line begin ter tighten on
’em.

“ Billee’s bull war a leetle the biggest, an’ so
mine war the fast 'to flop over. _

“ Sich a beller es thet ’ere bufller give when
he struck the groun’, feet uppermost.

“Uv coorse, when be war down it suddently
checked up t’other ’un, an’ kerfiummux he went,
all uv a heap onto ther perairy.

“While Billee’s war down mine got up an’
started off jess es of ther ole devil war arter
him, bellerin’ at everyjump, till he kum to ther
eend uv the rope, an’ up he flew ag’in.

“ Then Billee’s. he got up an’ started, on’y to
be sarved jess es mine hed been, an’ so they
kep‘ it up, fust one an’ then t’other, till both uv
us, Billee an' me,war about nigh dead wi’larfin’.

“ Every onc’t in a while they’d ketch sight 0’
one ’nuther, an’ then they’d lock horns fer a
reg‘lar groun’-scuffle, till one got tired or scart,
an’ would start off an’ ketch anuther tumble.

“ I sw’ar, boyees, I larfed till I war blind es
a bat, an’ couldn’t git my breath fer more’n
half a hour.

“When I got up olfen the grass, fer I’d fell
off the boss, I see a sight thet kinder took ther
larf right outen me, I tell yer.

“Thar war Billee,standin’ ofif ’bout twenty
yard from whar I lay, w1’ two big Comanch’
warriors a bolt uv him, an’ afore l ked edzack-
ly un’erstan’ thet it war a fack, I felt my arms
grupped from behind, an’ foun’ myself in the
same fix.

“Yes, sirree! While we were larfin’ at ther
bulls, ther imps hed stalked us, me an’ Billee,
two uv ther best ’uns on ther border, an’ hed
us fast an’ tight. .

" All this time the bulls war at it, an’ the'
Injuns holdin’ onto us an’ larfin’ fit to kill at
’em. ‘

“ Purty soon the whole band got roun’ us an’
begin jabberin’, an’ larfin’, an’ p’intin’ at ther
bulls an’ then at us, an’ then yowlin’ wuss’n

ever.

“ ‘ Lordy, Rube!’ sez Billee, all uv a suddent.
‘ The imps ar’ a-goin’ to rope us.’

“An’ durn me ef they warn’t. An’ what’s
more, they did. '

“ They fetched a lariat an’ tied it roun’ our
necks, an’ then cuttin’ a lot uv muskeet switches,
they lit in an’ started us a-playin’ tom-cats
swung over the cloze-line.

“ It makes my ole neck smart ter think about
it till yit.

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“Fer awhile Billee an’ me tried not to hurt I
each other more’n posserble, but by’m-by we
both got mad. Me thinkin’ Billee ulled hard-
er’n needcessary, an’ him thinkin thet I did
ther same. An’ then it war lively, I tell yer.
“The more we tumbled, the madder we both
got,’ an’ ther madder we got ther wuss them
Comanch’ larfed.

“ What a sight it must ’a’ been!

“Us two an’ the bulls playin’ at ther same
ame.

“ ’Tyvur funny fer the Injuns, monstrous
funny, I do reckin, but it war jess red blazes on
us an’ the bulls. '-
“ Well, they kep’ us at it till we both guv out,
an’ then they untied us an’ took to ther timmer,
whar they camped fer ther night.
“ In course Billee an’ me left ’em afore morn-
in’, durned glad to do so, an’ both sw'arin’ thet
we’d never, never sling anuther bulfler bull.
Didn’t we, Billee?”

Bill Neil’s Stunner.

BY IRA A. KIMBALL.

 

 

 

 

IT’s a lie from beginning to end; there’s not a
word of truth in it; but Bill said it was true as
Gospel, and common politeness compels me not
to gainsay the statement.

The rays of an August sun that poured down
on the scorched prairies of kansas, were most
intensely real, however. So much so that I
called my pony, and springing into the saddle,
galloped away to the inviting shade of a friend-
ly cottonwood.

The steers were leisurely feeding down a little
draw as I dismounted, and pulling BEADLE’S
WEEKLY from my pocket, I stretched myself
at full length upon the soft grass for an hour’s
quiet reading, as I thought, when I spied a
horseman coming across the prairie at an easy
lope, directly to ward me.

“Confound the rascal; I am not hankering
after visitors,” I thought, as I tossed aside the
unperused copy at the approach of one of the
most inexhaustible “ gassers ” of Southern Kan-

sas.

" Hello, Kimball, doin’ the cowboy, eh? Well,
I should spread and smile! I’m a scrub-oaker
right from the creek and at peace with all man-
kind, the old womaii throwed in. St. John
wept and bottled the tears. Try my jolly
crookster!" he said, dismounting and drawing a
whisky bottle from his pocket, and offering it
to me.
“ No, thank you: 1 never drink.”
“ Take a born to keep off sunstroke.”
“ I never take. the poison.”
“ “'ell, we’ll not quarrel; I can drink for both.
Here’s luck and limber joints to chase the
ornery steer!"
After swallowing half the contents, he put

 

 

the bottle back in his pocket and sat down.
But he had no sooner touched the ground than
he sprung up as if shot from a spring-board,
with a yell that made the valley ring. He had
come in contact with a species of cactus com-
monly called prickly pear, and his pantaloons
being thin, he got the full benefit of about ten
thousand needle-points in an extremely scum—
tive part of the body. ‘ ‘ . _

“By the great jumping Jack—rabbit if I
didn’t set down on a hornet’s nest, or some
other infernal contrivance, I’m a liar!”

Feeling a gentle persuasion to succumb to
prescnt impulses. I rolled over on the grass
and laughed till my sides ached.

“ Don’t ye suppose I’m snake-bit, or not? I’ll
take another snort on suspicron; whisky, you
know, is the great antidote in such cases,” and
be emptied the flask, rubbed and swore, and
finally laid down for the afternoon.

“ What's this? ‘ Texas Jack, the Prairie Rat-
ler;‘ well, I’ll swan! I’ll just bet my old hat
them New York fellers don‘t know beans about
the original Texas Jack. Why, him and I
were old chums; ha, ha, ha! That makes me
think of the scrape he got me into once. Jack
had ten thousand dollars in the bank at Aristin.
which he authorized me to fetch up for him. I
told him it was blamed risky carrying so much
money on a private individual. but he only
laughed at me, and told me. to bring it along,
and if I got killed he would pay my funeral ex
penses; so when I went down to the burg, I
lifted the swag, and stowing it in the breast
pocket of my coat, started back afoot. I
thought that the safest plan, as no one would
suppose a man too poor to pay stage fare would
be wagging $10,000 along with him.

“I had gone about ten miles when two sav-
age-looking cusses spurred into the road ahead
of me and called a halt! I was scared to kill,
but I didn’t let on but what evorything was
fine as a daisy. I told them I was a strapped
newspaper reporter, and lean for ‘squibs’; in
fact pining for just such company, and, if agree
able, would go into camp together for the
hi ht, while I, through their kindness, would
tafie notes enough for a firsbclass novel.

“ I knOWed blamed well they didn’t believe a
word of my story, and I felt certain they knew
I had the ducats, and was debating the best
mode of going through me. I pretended to
think they believed my yarn, and threw them
ofi? their guard, aSImeant to do. I kept on
talking, and commenced to kindle a fire, when

 

\J/~—\

 

“Billee’s bull'war a. leetle the biggest, an’ so mine war the fast to flop over.”

I saw them exchange glances that I knowed I
meant mischief. Meanwhile they dismounted,
leaving their horses to ick grass: and acted as
if they tumbled to my ittle game, while laugh-
ing in their sleeves at the easy haul they ex-
pected to make.

“ They wondered at my traveling unarmed. I
told themI was harmless, and expected no harm
of others: while, if .I was loaded down with re-
volvers, I would stand a poor show with the
crack-shots of Texas.

\ “ ‘Bet your life,’ the tallest cuss said, toss-
ing me a silver quarter. ‘Take that and step
off twenty paces, hold it up between your
thumb and finger, and if I don’t knock it into
kingdom come \you may shoot me for a skunk.’

“ I knowed it would be blamed risky business.
but I saw he meant no crawfishing in the game,
so I walked out twenty steps and held up the
quarter.

“ He throwed out his revolver and fired, and
the piece of siver whizzed out of my fingers,
and never drawed blood.

“ The fellow was pleased with my courage and
faith in his marksmanship, and, I think, decided
not to take my life if he could procure the
money by any other means. I had gained one
important point; now to save the confounded
money I must resort to stratagem: so I Opened
my knapsack and took out a coffee canteen,
telling one of the galoots to go down to the creek
for water. After he left I made itapoint to
pass behind the other one, and throwing my
left arm around his neck, I brought my right
hand out of my coat-pocket full of fine dry
smoking-tobacco, and slapped the poor cuss’s
eyes jam full.

“ He whooped like a murdered Sioux, and I
lit out like a quarter-horse, when blamed if I
didn’t run right into the other chap, and we
went down, heels over head, all in a heap: but
I grabbed another handful of the tobacco and
doped his optics; taking care to relieve him of
his revolver and sling it in the brush, as I did
the first; then I took to my heels in a bee-line
back to Austin, running like a scared rooster.

“ You see, they being unfirmed couldn’t shoot,
and the horses scaring at t e rumpus we kicked
u , ran away, and before they got their eyes
cleared out I had gained a good quarter the
start, and there we went like the very Old
Scratch was after us, clean back to Austin.

“‘Or I did: but they switched off when they
saw I was bound to win. Well, sir, I run
straight to the bank and deposited that filthy
lucre, and swore ofi.’ ever making a United
States express out of Bill NefI again.

“I never traveled ten miles quicker in my
life, now that’sa fact; and suraH—I swear to
gracious I em tied a quart out of each boot.
Jack and I——( ord, how them things stick l)—
have laughed over my scrape a hundred times
since. But, I must go home and change mv
pants. Good-evening, sirl” and Bill mounted

The Rival Wrestlers.

BY H. S. KELLER.

 

 

IT was a gala night in Tip Top, the new gold
camp of Arizona. . _ . _
The Casino has its opening this night; it
promises to be a great occasion. _
Tip Top is a loud town. It was born in. a
gale, a genuine stampede, and according to its
star it will peter out game to the last.
For two or three days back, every dead wall,
rock and tree bore a flaming poster which read
as follows-

HEAR YE! HEAR YE! 1
BE IT KNOWN rr0
ALL MEN,
That I—Dave Brown—intend to give a boss
SHOW,
And don‘t YOU forget it.
, CASINO
Will be opened Friday evening, September 2d.
FREE SHOW! FREE SHOW!
The SOLID MAN will wrestle against all comers.

COME ONE, COME ALL!
NUFF SED! !

At one end of the low, long room was the

person.

A roped-in clearing among the rude benches
was strewn with sawdust. _

A “ dry ”- crowd swarmed into the Casmo
when the doors were swung back, and opened
the ball by patronizing the bar liberally.

Arizona whisky is noted for its fighting pro-
pensities. The rule held good on this occasion,
for more than a dozen “ affairs ” had been set-
tled in the ring before nine o'clock.

The “slugging” made way for the more
graceful and less dangerous sport of wrestling,
when Dave Brown entered the ring with—the
Solid Man.

A loud laugh sprung from every throat when
the aspirant for sawdust honors made his ap-
pearance.

“ Take the kid out! Air ye givin’ us a baby
show?” yelled a loud—mouthed fellow, rising
among the crowd, and waving his arms dra—
matically. v

 

 

and rode away, standing up in his slim-ups.

A sly smile passel over Dave‘s face. Turning

, O
l’Z-rff ‘

.“ e
l

to the slim fellow ln tights, he whispered a word
or two. ‘ The young man nodded his head, and
Dave, raising his hand for silence, said:

" Gentlemen, I have promised to give you a
first-class show. Before the entertainment is
over I trust you will agree that I have kept my
word. This is my star. He looks small, but if
he don’t down everything in this burg, I’ll eat
this ranch, sawdust and all. The entertainment
is ready to commence. Here’s one hundred
iollars that says there’s not a man within hear-
‘ng of my voice who can put the young fellow
in his back.”

It was a bold challenge, and to all appear-
ances a very foolish one.

The young wrestler was slight, graceful and
handsome. His limbs were not those of a giant.
Surely he will not be able to hold the ring
against the “ chosen ” of this crowd of brawny
men.

A shower of gold fell into the ring, and a
dozen giants followed, each one eager to test
the skill of the young wrestler.

“ Gentlemen, I cannot wrestle you all.”

The young man’s tones were low, soft and
musical.

" We’re goin‘ fur that hundred dollars—”

“ All right, men. But don’t you see it is im-
posstble to do anything until a few preliminary
arrangements are made?” interrupted Dave.

“Sill in, boss: what’s the ticket!" inquired
one of the champions.

“ First. you can try chances among your
selves. The ring is free. gentlemen. Sail in
and do your finest. I shall hold the Solid Man
for the victor.”

“ What do yer mean, D we?”

“ You can wrestle it out; the best one amon
you, the one who downs all the others, shal
meet my man. Is that satisfactory?”

After some little hesitation the men agreed to
accept Dave’s plan.

The giants peeled off, and the fun commenced.

Such a scene human being never gazed upon
before. Twelve men wrapped in close embrace

went careering round the ring struggling for
the mastery.

Then—thump!

Six pairs lay upon the floor. Six victors went
back to the ropes for a breathing spell; and six
crestfallen men with sawdust clinging to their
shoulders—insignia of defeat~rose and crawled
OVer the ropes.

Then the fun recommenced. Six men strug-
gled backward and forward, tugged like giants
and breathed like steam-engines.

Then—thump!

Three victors stepped back to the ropes to re-
cover breath. while three defeated candidates
sluiik from the ring.

How shall the next- bout be Settled?

“ Throw up a cent,” said a voice.

The three champions came to the center of the

ring. Divce flip :d a cent to the ce'l' Iv
“ Heads!” p 1 m0.

glittering bar, presided over by the “ boss” in.

“ Heads it is.
pair a chance,” uttered Dave.

Now the fun commenced in earnest, and—as
soon ended. One of the wrestlers got the grape»
vine lock about the other’s leg. A quick move-
ment, a stiffening of limbs, then-a sharp snap!

“. My God! I’ve broke his leg,” cried the V10-
tor. as the other slid from his arms and fell
shrieking upon the floor.

The unfortunate man was carried out, and the
two remaining wrestlers resumed the s ort.

Ah! that fearful grape-vine lock again did its
cruel work, and another man with pallid face
and broken leg was carried out.

After the champion had rested for a brief pe-
riod, he came to the center of the ring and said
he was ready for the solid man.

The latter looked like a pigmy standing there
by his towering opponent.

They rushed forward for bold.

Ah! again the grape-vine. The sturdy limb
clad in heavy canvas is wound about the grace-
ful limb clad in silk fleshings. ,

The champion of the grape-vine stiffens his
leg but——the scheme didn‘t work. The young
wrestler slid away from the other's embrace,

and, like a flash of lightning, secured a waist
grip, raised the huge form easily from the floor
and threw it over his head.

The roof fairly quiver-ed as the giant fell in a
heap upon the sawdust. A groan came from
the defeated man’s lips, and then—a gush of
warm blood stained the sawdust crimson.

Drive Brown sprung to the fallen man’s side:
he examined him hastily, and a strange look
came upon his face as he rose.

“ Gentlemen, his neck is broken 1”

Dave won the money, of course. There were
two broken legs and one broken neck in Tip Top
that night, results of the opening of the Casino.

——_——

 

Science and Industry.

 

A FRENCH meteorologist has planted in the
ground near his house two bars of iron, from
which wires run to a telephone reCeiver. The
earth-currents which are indicated by sounds
in the telephone never fail to give notice to the
observer, who consults the apparatus several
times a day, of the approach of astorm from
twelve to fifteen hours in advance.

THE oyster—packing business in Baltimore,
Md., em loys about sixty-five firms. The lar -
est raw ouse in the city opens 11,000 bushe 5
per day. The aggregate product of all the
packers is $14,000,000 a year. From 20,000 to
25,000 men and women are employed in shuck-
iug, and the women are said to be expert shuck-
ers and to earn from $2 to $3 per day. A local
authority says that the supply of oysters is di-
minishing, and that.they are deteriorating in
quality; oysters that five years ago would not
be usad for the raw trade are now being bought
and shipped. A

A WONDERFUL bedstead, made for an East
Indian prince is on show in Paris. It is made
partly of silver. At each corner stands a bean-
tifully-modeled female figure (life size) holding
a delicately-constructed fan, and wearing a
wig of real hair. This is to be regularly dressed
by the court barber once a week. On the eat
potentate gettin to bed the weight of his gdy
sets certain mac inery in motion, the effect of
which is, that the silver maidens gently fan the
sleeper. Moreover, should the dusky owner of
the bed wish to be lulled to sleep by the dulcet
sounds of soft music, this can be done by touch-
ing a spring. The bottom of the bed contains a
large music-box.

THE importation of Jersey cattle into the
United States began about Seven years before
the war. It has gone on with such enthusiasm
that we now have about 21,000 Jerseys, either
imported or born here. every one of which is
registered in the Jersey herd book that is now
assuming the proportions of a library. The
Jersey cattle—by which general name is meant
cattle of Jersey, Sark, and Alderney—im rove
in this country over their condition in their na-
tive islands, and they make more cream and
butter and thrive wonderfully. They are dis-
tributed over the entire country. The are gen-
erally of a fawn color', with rather ark gray
or blackish faces; the cows are very gentle and
the bulls vicious. -

———“

 

Telephone Echoes. '

 

_A TEXAS doctor calls his great quinine com-
bination a “ Chill-masher.”

A MAN was ejected from a Chicago show of
beautiful women because he remarked that if
only things of beauty were joys foreVer the ex-
hibits seemed doomed to eternal misery.

“ I saw a capital thing in that last pamphlet of
yours,’- said O‘Connell to a conceited scribbler.
" Indeed,” rejoined the delighted perpetrator.
with a beaming smile; “ what was it?” “ A
pound of butter.”

AT a prayer-meeting the other night the bur-
den of the remarks was about those who had
died reCently. There was some smiling when
the deacon in charge then said: “ We will close
By smging ‘ Praise God from whom all blessings
OW'.
THEODORE PARKER pays this tribute to his
Wife’s finer perceptions. He said: “I think I
have some knowledge of human nature, but my
feeling of character compared with hers is like

the clumsy hoof of an ox to the delicate sense of
the human fingers.”

WHAT HE WANTED.—Fathcr to suitor—You
want the hand of my daughter; have you any
means of exrstence? Suitor—At present. none;
but I have the best and finest prospects. Father

—Oh, then you are in want of a telescope—~n0t
of a Wife.

A FRENCHMAN is about to be beheaded. Un-
der the guillotine a priest approaches him and
says: ” My friend, ave you any last wish to
make? The wish of a dying man is sacred.”

“Yes,” replied the doomed man, “I want to
learn English!”

A 0001) old man upin Eppiug, N. H. went to
prayer-meeting the other night, and unwit-
tingly fell asleep. He was called upon to offer
prayer, and, being dutifully punched by his
better half, hollowed out:—“ Gol—darn it, Betsy,
kindle it yourself!”

A WEerRN woman applied to a doctor for a
prescription for her husband’s rheumatism.
“Get that prepared,” said the medical man,
f‘ and rub it well into your husband’s back. If
it does :iim any good let me know; I‘ve gota.
touch of rheumatism myself.”

A RECENT advertisement reads as follows:
“ If the entleniaii who keeps the shoe store
With a re head will return the umbrella of a
young lady with whale-bone ribs and an iron
handle to the slate-roofed grocer’s shop be will
hear something to his advantage, as the same is
the gift of a deceased mother now no more with
the name engraved on it.” ,

A_Ni~:w YORK physician says it is dangerous
to kiss any .one w 10 is hungry, as the saliva at
such times is very poisonous. This will probably
explain why a young man fills his coat-pocket
With carauiels when going to see his girl. He
guards against the danger referred to by the
physn‘ian aforesaid by appeasing her appetite
with sweetiiieats before the osculntory exer~
crses commence.

A NEW story is told of Arteuiiis Ward. when
traveling on a slowlgoing Southern road soon
after‘the war. I’Vhen the conductor was punch-
ing his ticket Artemus remai‘ked:«-“ Does this
railroad company allow passengers to give it
a‘dvme, if they do so in a respectful manner?”
Ihe conductor replied iii griill‘ tones that be
guessed so. “ \Vell,"Arteiiiiis went on, ” it oc’
curred to me. it would be u all to detach the cow—
czitcher from the front of the engine and hitch
it to the rear of the train. For you see we are
not liable to overtake a cow. but what’s to pre—
vent a cow strolling into this car and biting a

 

pa<sengerf’

 

 

 

 

 

Step back, Jack, and give the “