.3 dal l t YQ’ I l l l i . l \ \t ' .. “4min... . v L 1 Adams and Company, Publishers, 0 98 wan-m Street. who. ‘ ruin: \ ’ COPYRIGHTED IN 1878 In ADAMS AND Conan: w YORK, DECEMBER 16, 1878. nu llllllllllll Ii REGREA’I‘ u....o-o-u-I-uncuogno-I-noc....u..... llllllllllllllllllllllllllll ' nous-oaonoaoooIn-o-I n llllllllllllllllllllllllllll $2.50 a Year. Single Copies, Five Cents. as??? V Illllllllllllllll u lllll lllllllllllllllll. ///// .\i\' X. _ ll‘ ta"? 7.52 "’v ~’ ,1 .'.i 5’???' .53“ " A .. . Q. K. \P 4 /’ . \x / l \ :(\§‘\\\§.I\3NI\ . : -‘ 2 L‘)\‘ V. I ‘ “04“ Hare and Hounds. The New Game and How it is Played—First Meet of the Westchester Club. THE old selionlsboys' game of Hare and llnnnds is eoniing into faVnr in the l'nited States. and we are glad of it. 'l‘ni: Yoi'so Nizw YoRKER takes espeeial interest. in this sport luieause its first trial has been made in theviein— ity of New York ('it)'. The Westehester Hare and llnunds t‘lub was oi'L:aiiiZed November liith and had its first run on Thanksgiving Day. Ht' eourse. havingr said this inueh. our readers will all want to know just what the game is. how it is played and how it atl‘eets them. Hnr pietnre will give them an exeellent idea of its general tea t ures. Hareand lloundsisannldtraine of the English sehonls. and it is essentially a healthv game. good for boys and YOU": men. It requiresnnly one thing, plenty of lgood runneis: and all young; fellows are fond of running. Two of the Meet- est of the elub are ehoseu for ” llares " and pro— vided with a saek full of scraps of I‘llN'l‘ to! “seem.” The rest of the elub are “ llnunds." The Hares are allowed ten or til" -en minutes” start. and set off aernss the enuntry. drop tin;r seraps' as they go. throwing a handful beliin them every hundred feet and seatterin: gradir ally. lt is their olijeet to get out otlsirht as soon as possible. The Hounds are put no the trail at the sound of a hul‘||_ and have '1)" it.-h the Hares; if they ean. This is the whole of the game. 5“ l'l‘flflll'wt. Hare and llonnds elabs' :n-ne allv have a uniform suitable ."nr 'i.llltlltl"’. That of the \Vesteliester elllb is a s'ai'let jai'lt‘el black knee—breeehes 0r Kniekerboekeis and blaek cap. This is a good running.r dress and should be followed in its general features. though any eolorsareadniissible. KiiH-~lu'eeel1es are preferable tn trnwsers on erei'_\' aeenunt. as thev donot eranip the knee in running. The Westeliesier elub has been organiZed only three weeks, and we give the names of its meni- bers in full. as the pioneers of the new sport in .-\ineriea. Thev are Walter S. \‘osbnrgh. l.. H. llerte. J. J. lh'adv. \\'. W. White. l‘l. .\lolsnn. (l. H. l-lillwig. ll. ll. Siiivthe. Frank N. linrd. A. ll. \‘an l'iper. X. .\l. Keyser. Hean’e llolde. John H. llanland. T. H. .\l‘ills‘ti‘oli,: vtllt' eham— pion one mile walker). [’erev Neyman. William T. lhibois. L. It. ltolstoti. Fl. Fieldinu‘. (I ('ox. W. Merrill. John W. linwe, W. J. Kendriek. J. 1’. Riblet. \V. Livingston. E. lim'kWi-ll. \\'. (K Hamilton. 'l‘. Keeler. \V. l.. Ferris. N. S. Ferris. \V. J. lhitl'. ('. W. Horton. J. ll. llaly and Frank Banhain. The idea of the elub originated in a enii\'ersa— tioii on the Harlem boat. and the members were ('ul‘t‘t'ltllv('llnsell. 'l‘lil‘ otllt‘el‘s‘ t'lt‘('tt‘4l t'Hl' l\7"—‘J are: President. J. J. lirady: First \'iee l‘resi- dent. \V. \V. \Vliite; Set-oilll Viee l'I'esiIlt‘llt. l‘l. Nelson: Seeretai‘)’. ti. lleilwigz \ssistant Seere— tar)‘. H. llolde: 'l‘rensurer. l“. N. Lord: l‘lxet'll— tivel'nnunittee. 1.. .>\. Herte. W. S. Ynsburgh. W. 1‘. Hamilton. W. l. K. Kendriek. and J. B. llaviland: l“ield~(‘aptain. W. S. \‘osburgh: Lieutenants. l". H. llanham and W. Sini'the. The field eeptain is also ealled the "paee— niako-i':" and he and the lieutenant» who are denomina'ed ‘\\l-ippers in"—~keep the Hounds t'ut'tlu'l'nt'tl prex‘ei-i the pink t'rnin str:I,\,:;,:lin;_r. 'l‘in- “ llniii'i' ” n'n t tollnw'tl‘e st'a-llt ” and are IN 1 allowed to A Ill otl‘e writers." t‘-l'tlie " Hares." The 'I‘hanltsyinu'g liit'i'llll; ot' the lie\\ elub A HOT SCENT. )I‘OVUtT a grand sueeess. It had rained hard on Vednesdav night. but eleared about midnight and blew lard and enld from the northwest. di'_\’iii;_r up the ennntr} in famous style. The " meet " took )laee at Selirader’s Hotel on (‘en~ tral AVenue. Woodlawn. at nine n‘elnek: and at halt-past nine the signal tor the start was giVen. The " Hares" were Messrs. L. A. lierte and \V. \V. White. The '- Hounds" were J. J. Brady. H. II. llillwig. II. ll. Sniythe. \V. H. Yosburgh. A. 15. Van ltiper. X. .\l. Keyser. (v‘eorge Dolde. John B. Haviland. l'ei'e_\ Newman. l’rank Ban— ham. H. Fielding. t‘. (‘nx. \V. Merrill and John W. Lowe. Lowe and Sinytlie had run before in England. The “ Hares " were dressed in dark-blue shirts and trunks. with the image of a hare in searlet cloth on their breasts. Nearly eVery one was irovided with a horn. The “ pacemaker" wore lilael: velvet entl‘s and eollar on the red jacket and a golden tassel on his cap. The " Hares" were ; ven a start often min- lites. and were not exp i'ted to seatter “seent " till they werenut ot si ht. At the endot' ten minutes the eaptain 51;}.Iltlled. the horns sound« ed. and away went the «base dmvn the road to- ward Mount Vernon. 'l'lie “Hares”~ took eare to ehaiige their enuise and go aeross ennnti'V before they began to 1ll'-|]) “ seent." and tit‘t'ol‘t — iii-,Ily there was a eheek at end of the tirst quar— terot' a mile. when the “ Hounds " had tohuut tor the trail. These are the oeensions that require disei dine and a ;_"nnd enptain. but the new elub was aeking' in neither. and soon found the white trail that led aernss a stubb'edield in a wood. The enuntry between Woodlawn and Mount \vt‘l'lltlll tl'aVerses the valley ot' the lli'onx whieh is full of swamps: and the " llares” be» in; l'eekless and toll of tun. led the ehase through the worst places they eould tind. doub— ling away to the left from Mount Vernon toward Yonkers. and thenee doublng back again to Kingsbridg‘e and “'oodlawn. The latter part of the ehase was over rough. hilly ground. and the whippei‘sin had hard work. The best rnie ners wanted to get ahead and the poorest were lagging. but the otlieers were determined to keep the club together tn prevent disheartennhInt. At last they lwgan tn elnse in on the " Hares." and the eunning fellows doubled in order to puzzle the " Hounds." Thev attempted to throw them ntl‘ b_v wading the ironic river, but the “ Hounds “were not tn be denied. and ran them to eover at the hotel from whenee they had started. The "Hares" arriVed at ten minutes iast one. the leading " llound "Hlizuihum. ot' the llarlein Athletic Club-eight minutes later: and the rest of the puck were all in by halt—past one. tired out. but jolly and enthusiast ie. The elub will next meet, on (‘hristmas Day. and expeets to hunt ever}~ other Saturday then» after. unless the snow preVents. Lone~ bet'nre their next tum-ting, we hope to ehrnniele the formation of " Hare and Houndselubs " ill erery Village of the I'nion. The game is an eXeellent one for young men and boys. and can be followed an_\'\\'liere, with or without uniforms. The less t'ripper_\' they indulge in the more will Amerienns like the sin >rt. lted ,jaekets ean be replaeed b_v red shirts. whieh enst less andare lighter to inn in. It" the members of the ehib eannot all'ord to buy ltnee brm ehes. theyean probany alterold pantalnons into the neeessnr)~ shape. and III the ease of bni s below l\\'t lve the ennnnnn fashion of Kniehen bnekers saves all trouble. In t'nrining‘ llai‘eand llnnndst 'lubs. asin Walk- ing; ( 'lubs. it isiulx'isablethat the members should be nearly equal in physical strength. when seleeted, to insure good runs and general satiss faetinn. It' a hundred boys- at some publie selinol should wish to form elubs. it would be better to make at least t\\'oinlie of large. the other of small bn_\'s——than to ennsnlidate them. If both run together. the little t'ellnws are sure to drop out in disgust when the others three the paee beyond their abilities. while the large boys will grumble at having to wait tor the little ones. (‘lubsofsinall bnysean beealled “ Beagles "‘ to distinguish them from the l:ii';;ei' " Hounds," and ean enjov a run as mueli as any one. \Ve repeat llei'eitlie less tripper)’ indulged in by waynt' unit'nrni. the better. though all should dress alike. so as to be i'H‘i unwed a long: wa_\ ntl'. A white band round the eap. with the letters of the elub name. is enough in show out at a dis- tanee; and the eaptain enuld have a dill‘erent enlored eap to tllstlllgllisll llllll. The \Vestelies— tel' (Illll) is ('olnposeil of young; lllel) in good ('ii‘— euinstanees. and the\' eaii afl'nrd \‘eth't enllars and gold tassels. The less of these that our selionlslinys atl'eet. the better [or the slieeess ol' the elnb. N. l5. \Ve shall be pleased to reeei\e iiotii'e ot' the t'nrinatinn of “are and llnnnds ('lnbs b_\ boys of all ages. from eight _\'('ill'.~ tn eighty; and tln-ueeolllllswt tlieil‘ l‘lllls \\ ill be tllil)‘ i'lll‘ollit‘letl in 'l'ni. Ynt'xt; Nicw Yonkiiii. 'l‘liese runs are 'i|l\l lllt‘ till“: I” lit'l‘li buys 1|“! “1' Illist'liiu-l' and to iiiei'ease the si/.e ot' the ehest by eXereising the breathing [m\\i‘l'>. Start elubs. bo) s. anywhere and e\‘el‘_\ where. Meet al'tei' seliool on Friday afternoons and plan your runs for Satnrda): and then. after the run let ~\nni' best writers sit down and send Its an aeeonnt ot' the run. where you went. what _\ou did and all )‘otll' adrentnres i .i i I it :3 ‘ ’. it ' 3i 1 i :3 .2 l t '5 .r .u d... “mafia-s, ..4...’~ ~ -‘s - "- haw...‘ THE COLD DAYS. 'Tis ful‘, And calm, (la 8 Are dreaming n is es" With amber light the far w00ds blue, The shadcloss corn lands wear a. 1}»th base. The river level on the dun mead hes; Her spell enchantment la s. On llmmcring hills— lit bays—- orig occan ways—— On all. The calm Before the end; In nature, as in life, I‘is bright as eventide. I wend ‘ My wa through the woods where gold and crimson b end, Through corridors where endless pomps extend; I sigh to think how soon the strife 0f pipin winds shall rend Eric leaf and end The chum. - Youth‘s companion. =3: Capt. Mayne Reid’s Best Boy’s Story. Gaspar, ills Gaucho; LOST ON THE PAMPAS. A TALE OF THE GRAN CHACO. BY CAPT. MAYNE REID, AUTHOR or “ran HEADLESS HORSEMAN.” “ rm: SCALP-HUNTERS.” “ AFLOAT IN THE FOREST,” are, ETC. CHAPTER XVII. SAVED BY A SPITTING-DEYIL. To be shut up in a room with a royal Ben- gal tiger, or, what amountsto the same, a cave of small dimensions, is a situation which no one will covet. Nor would it be much improved were the tyrant of the Asiatic jungles trans- formed intO a jaguar—the despot of t e Ameri— can tro ical forests. For, although the latter be sma ler, and less powerful than the former, in. an encounter with man it is equally fierce, and dangerous. As regards size, the male 'aguar often reaches the measurement of an ndian tigress; while its strength is beyond all propor- tion to its bulk. Humboldt has made mention of one, that dragged the carcass of a horse it had killed across a deep, difficult ravine, and up to the top of a hill; while similar feats have been recorded by Von Tschudi, Darwin, and D’Orbi iy. Fami iar with its character and ca bilities, no wonder, then, that our gaucho an his com- panions should feel fear, as they take in the perils besetting them. For there is no knowing how long the jaguar will keep its patience, or its lace; and when it shifts, they may “look out or squalls.” They can still see it on the ledge; for although the light is feeble, with some dust floating about, through this its glaring eyeballs, as twin stars through a thin stratum of cloud, gleam coal- like and clear. They can see its jaws, too, at intervals open to emit that cry Of menace, ex- posing its blood-red palate, and white serrature of teeth—a sight horrifying to behold! All the while its sinewy tail oscillates from side to side, now and then strikin the rock, and breaking off bits of stalactites, t at fall in sparkling frag— ments on the floor. At each repetition of its growl, the horses show fresh atfright, and dance madly about. For the instinct of the dumb animals seems to admonish them they are caged with a. dangerous companion—they and it alike unable to part company. Their masters know this, and knowing it, are all the more alarmed. A fight is before them; and there appears no chance of shunning it—a hand-to-hand fight, their short-bladed knives against the sharp teeth and claws of a j ar! For a time they stan irresolute, even Gaspar himself not knowing what to do. Not for long, however. It would not be the gaucho to sur- render to despair. Instead, a thought seems suddenly to have occurred to him—a way of escape from their dilemma—as evinced b his behavior, to the others 'et incomprehensible. Parting from them, e glides of! in the direc- tion Of his horse; which happens to be nearest, like Cypriano’s, cowering in a crevice of the rock. Soon beside it, he is again seen to plunge his hand into the alpurcjas, and grope about, just as when searching for the stump of candle. And now he draws orth something very simi- lar—a packet with a skin covering, tied with a. bit of string. Returning to them, and remov- ing the wrap r, be exposes to view a half- dozen little r0 , in shape somewhat like regalia cigars, sharp-pointed at one end, and barbed as arrows. At a glance, both boys see what they are. They have not been brought up in a country where bull-fighting, as in all Spanish America, is the principal stime, without having become acquainted wit most matters relating to it. And what Gaspar has brought before their eyes are some tortcrillas, or itting-devils, used, along with the bandert’llas or musing the of the bull while being goaded by the picadom round the arena, before the matador makes his final assault. Gaspar who in earl life has flayed piL‘HdUT himself in the bull-fig ts of San osario, knows how to manufacture all the im- lements rtaining to the funcion dc toros, and as usual y kept a stock of tn‘terillas on hand, chiefly for the amusement Of the Tovas youths, who were accustomed to visit the estancia. Often, while dwelling at Assuncion, had he witnessed the wonder and delight with which the savages who came there regarded all sorts of fireworks; and it had occurred to him that, in the event of their encountering strange In- dians, some “spittingdevils” might prove of service. So, at starting out on their present expedition, just as with the bit of wax candle, he had tossed a packet of them into his saddle— ba . fise does not give this explanation till after- ward. Now there is no time for talking; he must act, and instantly. But how he intends acting, or what'he means to do with the tortcr— illas, neither of his youthful comrades can tell or fiucss ey are not kept long in ignorance. Snatch- ing the candle from Cypriano, who has been carrying it—with this in one hand and a torter- illa in the other—he moves off in the direction of the led e, where luckily the ‘aguar still lies astrctch. ossiny the reports of the guns have cowed it to kee ing its place. Whether or no, it has ke )t it wit iout chan Of attitude or posi- tion; t ough at interva s giving utterance to long low growls, with an occasional bark be- tween. ' Advancing cautiously, and in silence, the gaucho gets within six paces of it. This he deems near enough for his purpose: which, by this time, the others comprehend. It is to cast the turlm'illu at the tiger, and if possible, get the barbed point to penetrate the creature's skin, and there stick. He makes the attempt, and succeeds. First having put the primed end into the candles flame, and set the fuse on fire, he launches the “Devil” with such sure aim, that it is ‘ seen to fix itself in the jaguar’s back, just over the right shoulder. l The brute, feeling the sting, starts to its .feot with an ‘ stays it on the l angry scream; this instantly c of fight, as the mked Eryn, and fining up, envelope at a second 10 1r ' inding ofi' es for‘thc cave’s mou h, as itan himself ,hnfl taken hold of its tail.. sudden and liner;- pected is its retreat, that LudWig and Cypri- ano, to get out ot'thc way, go tumbling over the stones; while (his )ar comes nigh doing the same; in the scramble dropping the candle, and Of course extinguishing it. But the light oesout only with the jaguar itself; tho_brutc unding on with the sparks like the tail of a comet streaming behind, illumining the whole cavern, and causing the stalactites to litter and s arkle, as if its roof were fros With real diamonds! In an instant after, all is darkness; simulta- neously with the light going out, a sound reach- ing their ears, as of some solid body, falling heavily upon water—which they know to bathe tiger plung the “ spitting-devil,” and no doubt along with it, or soon after, the life of the animal it had so af- frighted; for even the king of American beasts could not escape being drowned in that foaming, seething flood. , Soon as satisfied that the enemy is hers de combat and the coast clear, Gaspar grapes about for the candle. and finding, once more lightsit. Then in his usual fashion, winding up with some quaint remark, he says: “ No more caterwauling to-night, I fancy, un- less the kittens be about too. If they be, it’ll givcus a bit of sport, drowning them. Now, scflorilos.’ I think we may sit down to supper, without fear of being again balked of our maté and mutton.” lam "\. CHAPTER XVIII. A ROCK-BOUND SLEEPING-ROOM. AS the darkness, due to the storm, has now been succeeded by the more natural darkness of night, the trackers, for this day, cannot proceed further, were they ever so eager. Besides, there is another bar to their continuing; one still more directly obstructive, even forbidding their exit from the cave. This, the arroyo, which now in full flood fills the ravine up to the Cliff’s base, there leaving no path for either man or horse. That by which they approached is covered be- yond fording depth, Witha currentso swift as to sweep the strongest animal from its feet, even were it an elephant. And to attempt reaching the Opposite side by swimming, would only rc- sult in their gettinglcarried down to be drowned to a certainty, or ave the life crushed out of them on the rocks below. Gaspar knowing all this, does not dream of making any such rash experiment. On the con- trary, as he has signified, he designs them to re- main all night in the cavern. Indeed, there is no alternative, as he observes, explaining how egress is forbidden, andassuring them that thev arc, in point of fact, asmuch prisoners as though the doors Of a jail were shut and locked upon them. Their imprisonment, however, need not last till the morning; so far as the flood is concern- ed. And this he also makes known to them, himself aware that the waters in the arroyo. will subside as rapidly as they had risen. It is one of those short rivulets, whose floods are over almost as soon as the rain which causes them. Looking out again near the hour of midnight, they see his prediction verified. The late swol- len and fast-rushin stream has become reduced to nearl its norm dimensions, and runs est in gentle ripple, while the moon shining f upon it, shows not a flake of foam. They could even now pass out of the cave and on up the cliff where they came down,i the desired to do so. More,- they might with suc a clear moon, return to the river’s bank and continue on along the trail they had forsak- en. A trail so lain as it, could be followed in a light for more aint; at least, so think they. So believing, Cy riano, as ever impatientto get on is greatly inc ined to this course, and chafes a the irksomeness of delay. But Gaspar objects, giving his reasons. “ If we were to go on now,” he so s, “it wouldn’t better us a bit. All we’d gain by it would be the league or so from this to the river. Once there, and attempting to travel up its bank, we’d find scores of little creeks that run into it, in full freshet, and have to swim our horses across them. That would only lose time, instead of gaining it. Now, by daybreak they’ll all be down again, when we can travel straight on without bein dela ed by so many stoppages. I tell you, fior riano, if we start now, it’ll be only to find t e old saying true, ‘ More haste, worse speed.’ ” He to whom this speech isaddressed perceives the application of the adage, and admitting it, yields the point. “Besides,” adds the gaucho, by way of clinch- ing his argument, “we’ve got to spend part of the night somewhere, and have some sleep. If we keep on without that it ma end in our breakin dead down, which would e worse than being a 'ttle behind time. We all stand in need of rest now. Speaking for myself I want it badly; and I‘m sure so does Master Ludwigand on too sefiorito.’ If we were toleavethe cave, and seekfor it anywhere outside, we’d find the ground soaking wet, and, like enough, every one of as laid up with a spell of rheumatics, Here we’ be as snug as a bi'scacha in its hole; and, I take it, will sleep undisturbed by the squallin g of any more cats.” As Cypriano makes no further opposition, it is decided that they remain in the cave till mom- chan ing to a pow cr catches it in a shOWer of sparks. e, but in . The little incident as above, with the conver- sation which accompanies it. does not take place immediately after the tiger had been disposed of; for they have eaten supper since. By 00d luck, some sticks were found in the cave, alf- burnt fagots, the remains of a fire no doubt left by a party of Indian hunters, who had also spent a night there. With these they were ena- bled tO boil their kettle, and make a muté Of their favorite yerba tea: while the “knuckle” of mutton and some cakes Of corn bread still left, needed no cooking. It is after all this was over, and they had been Some time conversin on the many strange incidents which occnrre to them throughout the day, that they became aware of the flood havin fallen, and escape from their rock-bound prison ‘ible. Then succeeded the discumion record . At its termination, as nothing more can be done, and all feeling fatigued, to go to re:t is naturallv the next move. Their horses have already been attended to by the removal of the riding gear, while some rough grass found grow- ing against the cliff, near the cave’s entrance outside, has been cut and carried in to them. A slight grooming given to the animals. and it but remains to make their own beds. This . done, by simply spreading their jcrgas and . caroniIIas along t e fiinty stalagmites. each having his own rccado for a pillow. Their ponchos, long since pulled apart, and the dust cuffed out of them. are to serve for what they 1 really are—blankets; a purpose to which at L night they are put by all gauchos and most Ar— , gentinos—as much as they are used during day- time for cloak or eat—coat. Each wrapping imsclf up in his own. all con- , versation 088505. and sleep is sought with closed 1 eyes. This night it is found by them in a suc- ing into the stream. That p'uh out, Jake all around, broken here and there by pro- ' that elevated I cession somewhat changed. As on that preccd- j . after it is Gaspar. not Cypriano, who surrenders , to the drowsy god; filling the hollow cavity ing, Ludwig is first asleep: but almost instantly . with his,snoring, loud as that often heard to roared from the nostrils of a to ir.‘ He well known: they as safe within tho rock—lxiund chamber; bcsides that he is tired dcud down with the day’s exertion; hence his so soon be- coming oblivious. - Cy )riuno is the last to yield. But he, too, at longt gives way, and a is silent within the cavern save the “(rump-cramp” of the 110m munching their coarse provender, With now and then a hoof striking the hard rock. But louder than all is that raucous reverberation sent up by the slumber-ing gaucho. CHAPTER XIX. THE “SACRED TOWN.” leu: the pursuing party is peacefully ro- posing upon the stalagmitcs of the cavern, that ursued rea- its destination—the “Sacred own” of v W. ' ~ . The , ‘. named, stands upon a level plain, in . shore of a large and beautiful k6. Whofl r s low-lying islets, covered with a thick; -- $111 the mom-hi, have the appearance 0 palm-groves growing direct out 0 the water itself. A belt of the same stately trees borders the jeotin Ahudl ds; whileawsy over theudjacent ea." er and drier ground, are ies, both ms of other and different 8 fan-leaved and innate, growing 11 cows or larger “montes,” with evergreen dam and trees of deciduous foliage interspersed At some three or four hundred yards from the lake’s edge, a bi rh hill rises abruptly above the plain—the only c evation within man miles. Thus isolated, it is visible from afar, an forms a conspicuous feature of the landscape; all the more remarkable on account of its singular shape, which is the frustum of a cone. Thou h its sides are of steep pitch, they are thick v wooded to the summit; trees of large size stand- ing upon its table—like top. But something more than trees stand there: the scaffolds upon which are laid the bodies of the Tovas dead; hundreds of which ma be seen in all stages of decay, or shriveled an desiccated by the dr winds and sun of the Chaco till they resemb e tian mummies. For it is the “Cemetery i ,” a spot hallowed in the hearts of these Indians, and so giving the title of “Sacred ” to this r- ticular place, as the town adjacent to it. ie latter is situated just under the hill, between its base and the shore of the lake. N 0 grand city, as might be supposed from such a high-sound- ing name, but sim 1y a collection of palm and bamboo toldos, or uts, scattered about without any design or order; each Owner having been left free to select the site of his frail tenement, since among the Tovas municipal regulations are of the simplest and most primitive charac- ter. True, some dwellings, grander and more pretentious than the common, are grou d around an open space; in the center of whic is one much larger than any of the others, its dimensions equaling a dozen Of them. This is not a dwellin , however but the Malacca, or House of Par iament. Eerhaps, with greater ropriety, it mi ht be called “Congress Cham- ber,” since, as ady hinted at, t e polity of the Tovas tribe is rather republican than mon- archical. Strange, as and that in this republic of red- skins, and so-called savages, should exist the same political contradiction as among some other republican communities, having the name of civilized. For altho h themselves individ- ually free, the Tovas Indians do not believe in the doctrine that all men should be so; or. at all events, they do not act up to it. d, their practice is the very opposxte, as shown by their coping numbers of s aves. Of these the have hundreds, most of them being Indians 0 other tribes, their enemies, whom they have made captive in battle. But to the Tovas master it signifies little what be the color pfhis bond- ~ can. ' L hear what he would further say. His words are ’ by way of command: “Shebotha! I’ve brought back with me a captive—a young girl of the pale-faces. You must take charge of her, and keep her here in your hut. She’s not yet come up, but will prcsently. So get things ready to receive her.” Shebotlni but bends lower, with an inclination of the head, to imply that his instructions will be attended to. Then he adds: “No one must see, or converse with her; at least, not for a time. And you mustn’t admit any one inside your Wu, except the witless white assume, your slave. About him it don’t signif . But keep out 33 others, as I know you on understand Shebotha?” She makes summer in affirmative, but as before, only by a nod. “Enough!” is the young chief’s satisfied re- joinder as he vaults back upon his horse, and rides to meet the captive train, which he knows must be now nut. That night, as for other nights and days succeeding, FranCesca Halberger has this bor- rid hug for a. hostess, or rather the keeper of her prison; since the unhappy girl is in reality kept and guarded as‘a prisoner. i CHAPTER XX. PASTE amt! POWDER. LONG before daylight penetrates the interior of the cavern, or shows its first streak on the sky outside, the trackers are up and active. A hasty breakfast is pre red; but, as the mutton bone is now uite are, they have to fall back on another 'nd of flesh-meat, which the provident Gaspar has brou ht along. This charqui, or as it is called by .nglishspeaking people, “ jcrked beef;” in all likelihood a sailor‘s pseudonym, due to some slight resemblance be- tween the English word “ jerked,” and the Guar— ani-Indian one charqui, as pronounced by South American people. Char m' is simply beef cut into long, thin strips, t en hung over a rope or rail, and ex- posed to a hot sun—in the absence of this. to fire —till the juices are thoroughly dried out of it. Thus prepared, it will keep for weeks, indeed months. The reason for so reserving it, is the scarcity of salt, which in t 6 districts where charquf prevails, is difficult to be got at; and, in conse— uence dear. Most of the beef imported from t e La Plata, under the name of “jerked beef,” is not charqui, but simply meat cured with salt. Beef is preserved by a similar process through— out most art of Spanish America, as in Mexi- co, and ‘alifornia. and for the same reason: but in these countries it is termed lasaju, and sometimes cerina. Chart 1' is by no means a dainty viand: not nice eit er to the now or palate. Those por- tions of it which have not had sufficient sun in the drying process, become tainted and the odor is anything but agreeable. or all, it serves a purpose in those countries where salt is a scarce commodity; and cooked—as all Spanish Americans cook it—-—with a plentiful seasoning of onions, garlic, and chilé, the “ gamey " flavor ceases to be perceptible. Above all, it is a. boon to the traveler who has along journey to make through the uninhabited wildemess, with no inns nor post-houses at which he may replen- ish his 8 nt stock of provisions. Being drv, firm, an light, it can be conveniently carried in haversack, or saddlebags. By Gaspar’s foresight, there is a packet of it in Ludwig’s alparcjas, where all the other pro- visions are stowed; and a piece cut from one of the stri about the length of a Bologna sau- sage, m es breakfast for all three. Of the Paraguay tea they have a good store, the ycrba being a commodity which cks in small space. Their morning meal is ' mined with slight ceremony; and soon as eaten, they reca )arison their horses; then leading them out of t e cav- ern, mount, and are off. . the arroyo has long since shrunk to its or- man’s skin, whether white or red; and many of the former, women as well as men, may be seen doing drudgery in this same sacred town— its hewers of wood and drawers of water. These are also captives the spoil of predatory incur- sions across the f ado into the settlements of Santiago Salto and Tucuman. Most of these slaves, employed in the care of cattle, lives. from their masters, in a sort of suburb w ere the dwellings are of a less per- manent c ter than the ordinary toldos, be— sides being differently constructed. They more resemble the tents, or wigwams, of the North American Indians: bei simply a number of la set in a circle, an tied together at the ; the hides of horses covering them, instead of the bufialoskins which serve a similar pur- pose on the northern prairies. It may seem strange that captives with white skins, thus left unguarded, do not make their escape But no; those so kept do not even seek or desire it. Long in captivity, they have be- come “Indianized,” lost all aspirations for lib- erty and grown contented with their lot; for the Tovas are not hard taskmasters. On the night of that same day, when the tor- menta overtook them, Aguara and his party approach the Sacrod Town, which is about twenty miles from the edge of the salitral, where the trail parts from the latter, goin westward. The lain between is no more 0 saline or sterile c r: but, as on the other side, showing a luxuriant vegetation, with the same picturesque disposal of palm groves and other tropical trees. The hour is late—nigh to midni ht—as the captive tralilnupasses under the sha ow of the Cemetery ‘ , ma ' round to where the foldert'a stands; for b0 the west side of the hill. “'ell may the young cacique feel something of fear, his face showing it, as he lances up to t where he so late laid the corpse of his fat er. Were that father living, he, the son, would not be passing there with the daughter of Ludwig Halberger as his captive. Even as it is, he can fancy the spirit of the de— ceased cacique hoveri over the hill, and look- ing frowning-1y, reprouc fully, down upon him! As if to mp0 from such imaginary frowns, he gives the lush to his horse: and setting the animal into a gallop, rides on alone—having first placed the captive under the charge of one of his followers. On reaching the folder-fa, h0cher. he does not go direct to his own dwelling, which is the largest of those adjacentto the malocca. Nor lake and town are on dinaralevel, and the th along the base of the bluff as when den by them in their rush for alter from the storm, they have no difficulty in getting out. So on they ride up the steep acclivit to the clifi’s crest; which last is on a. level wit the itself. on reaching it, a sight meets their eyes-— it is now daylight—causing a surprise to Ludwig and C priano; but to Gaspar something more— sometfilng akin to dismay. For the sage aucho mentally sees further than either of his fess ex- rienced companions; and that now observed 1y him 'ves tpken of a nlew trouble in store for tern. epainisno ongeragreengrasS' savanna, as when they gulloped across it on thye afternoon preceding, but a smooth expanse, dark brown in color, its surface glittering under the red rays of the rising sun whose disk is as yet but half visible above the' horizon! “Santos Dias!” exclaims the gaucho, as he sits in his saddle, contemplating the transforma— tion, to him no mystery. “ I thought it Would be so.” “ How ve strange!” remarks Ludwig. “Not at al strange, senon'to; but just as it should be, an as we might have expected.” “ But what 9 caused it?” “Oh, cousin,” answers Cypriano. who now com hendsall. “Can‘t you see! I do.” “ what?” “Why, that the dust has settled down over the plain- and the rain coming after, has con- verted it into mud.” ' “ Quite right, Senor Cyprhno,” into Gaspar; “but that isn’t the worst of i ." Both turn their eyes upon him, wondering what worse he can allude to. Cypriano inter- rogates: ‘Is it some new danger, Gaspar?” “ Not exactly a danger, but almost as bad: a likelihood of our being again delayed." “ But how?” “ \Ve’ll no longer have track or trace to guide us, if this abominable sludge extend to the river: as I daresay it does. Them we'll find the trail blind as an owl at noontide. As you see, the thing’s nearly an inch thick all over the ground. ’Twould other up the wheel-ruts of a loaded ca rreta.” His words, clearly understood by both his young companions, cause them renewed uneasi- ness. For they can reason, that if the trail be obliterated, their chances Of being able to fol- low the route taken by the abductors will be re- duced to simple guessing: and what hope would there be searching that way over the limitless wilderness of the Chaco? yet enters he among file toldos,‘ but, instead, makes a wide circuit around them, taking care ' not to awake those sl ing within. The. place for which he is making is a sort of half but, half cave. close to the base of the hill, with trees overshadowing, and a rocky background of cliff. Arrived in front of this solitary dwelling, he dismounts, and, drawing aside the horse‘s skin which serves as a BWing door, calls out: “ Shebotha!” Presently a woman appears in the opening ——if woman she could be called. For it is a bag of most repulsive appearance: her face half hidden by a tangle of long hair. black, des ite old age indicated by a skin shriveled ant wrinkled as that of a chameleon. Add to this a pair of dark-gray eyes. deep sunken in ‘ their sockets, for all gleaming brilliantly, and you have the countenance of Shebotha—sor- ceress Of the Tovas tribe-one of cast as sinis- i ter as ever resented itmlf in a doorway. She spea s not a word in answer to the friendly salutation of the cacique: but stands silent in bent. obeisant attitude, with her skinny arms crossed over her breast, as if waiting to A “ Well?” says Gaspar, after they had remain- ed for some moments gazing over the cheerless expanse which extends to the very verge of their vision, "it won’t serve any good purpose, our loitering here. “'e may as well push on to the river. and there learn the worst—if worst it‘s to be. Vamonos !” With this, the Spanish synonym for “Come along!” the gaucho gives his horse a dig in the ribs, with spur rowels of six inches diameter, and starts off at a swinging pace, the others after. And now side by side go all three. splashing ‘ and sputtering through the mortar—1i e road, which, flung up in flakes by their horses’ hoofs. is scattered afar in every direction. ' Half an hour of quick cantering brings them back upon the Pi comayo‘s bank: not where they had parted from it, but higher up, near the mouth of the arroyo. For Gaspar did not - about, pomibly in the end to go on er. deem it necessary to return to that irophetic ; , ed by that detestable lormenfa, and the u ly tree, whose forecast has proved so unfai ing. To , have gone back thither would have been a 3 , roundabout of several miles, since they had made a cross-cut to reach the cavern; and as on , trail, it must needs have continued u i the river. But now, having reached this, t ey cannot null; for here, ason all the plain over which the ' have passed, is spread the same coating of hal - dried dirt, fast becoming dricr and llrumr as the ascending tropical sun. with strengtlu-ncd in- tensity, pours his hot beams upon it. It has smothered up the Indians’ trail as completely as it snow several inches deep lay u it. No track there, no sign to show, that 1- horses or men over ed up the Pilcomyo’lbank. “ C'uapita! exclaims the gauche, in spiteful tone. “ It is as I anticipan-d; blind as an old mule with a taprjo over its eyes. May the fiends take that tormenta I” | CHAPTER XXI. . STOPPED BY A-“iuAcno.” FOR a time the trackers remain at halt, but without forsaking their saddles, pondering u xm what course they should pursue, or rathcr, w at direction they ought to take. y a short while are they undecided. It seems good as certain that the Indians have kept to the river, for some distance further on, at all events. Therefore, it will be time enough to cn- ter upon a more prolonged deliberation, when they come to a point where'this certainty censor. Thus reflecting, they start on afresh, With their horses’ hoods as‘before. Going at good speed as ever, in a few minutes they arrive at the confluence of the arroyo with the greater river: the former here running bc- tween banks less “blufl’y ” than abovo, whcrc it passes the cavern. Still they are of sufficient elevation to make a sharp descent toward thc channel of the stream, and a corresponding as- cent on its opposite side. But instead of an im- pediinent. the trackers find this an advantagc: giving them evidence that the Indians have gone across the arroyo. For their horses' tracks are distinctly traceable on the steep faces of both banks; the dust either not having set- tlcd there, or been washed ofi by the rain which fell after. “'itliout difficulty they themselves ride across: for the rapid-running stream has returned to its ordina dimensions, and is now quite shallow. with argrm gravelly bed. Once on its western side, however, and up to the level of the cam 1m beyond, they are again at fault; in fact, have reached the point spoken of where all certainty is at an end. Far as they can see before them. the surface is smeared with mud, just as behind. and no sign of a trail visible anywhere. Likc enough the Indians have still continued on along the river, but that is by no means sure. They may have turned up the arroyo, or struck off across the pampa, on some route known to them. and rhaps leading more direct to whatever may i their destination. It is all con 'cctnrc now; and upon this they must rely. ut the weight of pmbability is in favor of the pursued rty having kept to the river, and Gaspar is of t llS opinion. A ftcr riding some distance up the western bank of the arroyo, and seeing no trail or track there, he again 1‘0. turns to where they had crossed, sayin : “I think we may safely stick to t H: river. I‘m acquainted with its course for at least thirty leagues further up. At about half that distance from here it makes a bi(' elbow, and just thcre, I remember, an old Indian path strikes off from it, to crossa (rurn-i'u. Ha! that’s good as sure to be the route these red-skins have taken. For now I think of it, the path was a big, broad road, and must have been much traveled by In- dians of some kind or other. SO, mucharhus, we can‘t do better than keep on to where it parts from the water‘s edge. Possibly on the tra rcn'a. which chances to be a salih-al as well, we iuav find the ground clear of this detestable stuff. and once more hit ofi the raslro of these mur- dcrous robbers.” ‘ His young companions, altogether guided by his counsels, of course offer no objection; and off they again go up the bank of the broad dee river. ‘ Nor less swiftly do they speed, but fast as ever. For they are not impeded by the neccs sity of constantly kee ing their eyes upon the earth, to seeif there be oof-marks on it. There are none; or if an , they are not distinguish- able through the t ick stratum of slime spread over all the surface. But although goin r at a gallop, then do not get over much ground: ~ing every now and then compelled to pull up— meeting obstructions they had not reckoned upon. These in the shape of numerous little streamlets, flowing into the river. most of them still in freshet from the late ruin. One after another they ford them, none bcin so deep as to call for swimming. But they at fength come upon one Ofegreater depth and breadth than any yet pas; , and with banks of such a char- acter as to bring them to a dead stop, with the necessity of considering whethcr it can be cross- ed at all. For it is a water-course of the special kind called m’achos, resembling the bayou: of Louisiana, whose sluggish currents run in either direction, according to the season of the year, whether it be flood-time, or during the intervals of drought. At a glance, Gaspar perceives that the one now barrin their onward p mess is too deep tobe w ; and if it be pols-Sane to over it, this must be by swimming. Litt e would they regard that, nor any more would their animals; since the pain horse can swim like an otter, or cupiwra. ut, unfortunately. this particular n'ucho is of a kind which forbids even their swimmin it; as ahnost at the same glance, the gnucho o ryes, with a grunt ex- pressing his discontent. On the stream‘s fur— ther shore, the bank, instead of being on a level with the water surface, or gently shelving away from it. rises abru )tly to a hight of high six feet, with no break, far as can be seen, either upward or downward. Any attempt to swim a horse to the other side. would result in his being penned up. as within the lock—gates of a canal! It is plainly impossible for them to cram over there; and, without waiting to reflect further, the gaucho so pronounces it: saying to the gthers, who have remained silently watching 1m: “ “Yell. we‘ve got over a good manv streams in our morning's ride, but this one beats us. “'6 can’t set foot on the other side—not here, at all events.” " “'hy?“ demands Cypriano. “Because. as you can see. serion'to, that water's too deep for wading. " “But what of that? “'e can swim it; can‘t we?“ “ True, we could; all that and more, so far as the swimming goes. But once in there. how are we to get out again! Look at yonder bank. Straight u as a wall. and so smooth 3 cat couldn’t climb it, much less our horses; and no more ourselves. If ‘twere a matter of wading. we might: but. as I can see, allalong yonder edge it’s just as doe as in mid-stream; and fail- ing to get out, we'd have to keep on lunging Ca- ;l'ambp .' we mustn't attempt to make a crossing ere; “ “'here then?” demands Cypriano. in torture at this fresh delay, which may last he knows not how long. “ Well,” rejoins the gaucho, refiectingly, “ I think I know of a place where we may manage it. There's a ford, which can‘t be very far from this: but whether it’s above or below, for the life of me I can‘t tell, everything's sochang- coat of )laster it has laid over the plain! t me see,” he adds, alternatel ' taming his eyes up stream and down, " I ancy it must be l. l If 55'. “OJ/Y‘- .v 4... 4m». 'w‘ e no" rv "73W 3' News... ,n. Wm: ., vwg -—~—.—.-—— ':' whatamlthin above; and now I recollect there was a tall tree, a quebracha, not far from the ford. Hal" he exclaims, suddenly cafe ' sight of it, “there’s the bit of timber itself! can tell it by that broken branch on the left side. You see that, don‘t you, hzjos minsf” - They do see the top of a solitarytree with one branch broken off, rising above the plain at about two miles‘ distance; and they can tell it to be the well-known species called quebracha —an abbreviation of quebrnhacha, or “ax- breaker," so named from the hardnem of its wood. " Whether it be by wading or swimming," Gaspar remarks in continuance, “we’ll get over the riacho up yonder, not far from that tree. ‘ So, let’s on to it, senor-Hos I” ‘ Without another word, they all wheel their horses about, and move of! in the direction of the Quebrucha. g“ . \ CHAPTER XXII. A man DINNER Ar SECOND-HAND. As they make toward the tree, which has erst served others than themselves as a guide to the crossing-place, the nature of the ground hinders their 0 at great speed. Being soft and somcw t ggy, they are compelled to creep slowly and cautiously over it. But at length they get upon a sort of ridge sli htly elevated above the general level, though st' 1 unsafe for fast traveling. Along this, however, the can ride abreast, and without . fear of breaking through. As they proceed onward. Gaspar gives them some further information about the ford they are making for. “ we can easily wade it,” he says, “if this awkward and ill-timed duststorm hasn’t chang— edit, as everything else. \Vhen r dear master and I went across—that wo d be about six months ago—the water wasn't uite up to our stirrups: but, like as not, last night‘s down-pour has raised it too, and we‘ll have a swim for it. Well, that won‘t matter much. There, at all events, we can get the horses out: as the bank slopes of! gently. So there’ll be no fear of our being stuck or sent flounderinor in the stream. A regular Indian road crosses t e riacho there, and ehas worn a rut running down to the chan- ‘ nel on both sides." His hearers are pleased at this intelligence; Cypriano signifying so by the laconic rejoin- er: “ Esta bmmo." Then follows an interval of silence; after which Gaspar, as if some new thought had oc— curred to him, suddenly exclaims: “ S:intos Dios .' I’d for otten that." “ For tten what!” bot inquire, with a sur- prised, ut not apprehensive look; for the gau- cho’s words were not in this tone. “ Something,“ he answers, “ which we ought to find at this very crossing-place. A bit of good luck it‘s being here. “ And what do you expect from it ?" questions Cy riano. ‘ I expect to learn whether we‘re still on the ri ht track, or have strayed away from it. e‘ve been going by guesswork long enough; but, if I don't great y mistake we'll there see someth' to tell us whether our guesses have been or bad. If the red—skins have come up the river at all, it’s pretty sure the also have crossed the riacho at this very fo , and we should there see some traces of them. Sure to find them on the slo ing banks, as we did by the arroyo. That w' count a score in our bison” h h asedspeakin h ha the time c asce g,t e vs reighed the quebracha; and, soon as unfier its shadow, G r again reins up,“ telling the others to do t e same. It is not t t he has any business with the beacon tree, as with that which served them for a barometer; but simpl ', because they are once more within sight of e stream—out of view since they left its bank be- low. The ford is also before their eyes, visible over the tops of some low bordering bushes. But what has now brought the gaucho to a stop is neither the stream nor its crossing-place; but a flock of large birds wading about on the water, at the point where he knows the ford to be. Long-legged creatures they are, standing as on stilts, and full five feet high, snow- white in color. all but their h beaks, which are jet- black, with a band of na ed skin around their necks. and a sort of a pouch like a pelican’s, this being of bright scarlet. For they are g-lrznnes sold/ides, or “soldier-cranes,” so called from . Polish lancers: I will dress him 11 their red throats bearin a fancied resemblance to the. facings on the col ar of a soldier’s coat, in the uniform of the Argentine States. “ Burno!” is the pleased exclamation which i proceeds from the gaucho's lips, as he sits con- tfimplating the canes. “We shan’t have any have deepened the ford asmuch as a single inch. You see those long-legged gentry: it barely wets their feet. So much the better, since it insures us against retting our own wettod. with our baggage to t 1e boot. Stay!" he adds, speaking as I from some sudden resolve, “ let’s watch the birds 11 bit. I‘ve a reason." Thus cautioned, the others hold their horses at rest, all with their eyes fixed upon the soldier- cranes: which still unconscious of intruders in such close )roximity, continue the occupation has something to do with the garzones. So be- lieving, curiosity prompts them to have another . that the design he has so suddenly conceived ‘i l p at these piscatory birds, which b stand- 1 mg up in their stirrups—for they are sti l seated , in the saddle—they can. over the tops of the bushes, they see that the cranes continue fishing undisturbed, and seemingly unaware of age enemy being near or that danger threatens t in. But not much longer are they left to enjoy this feeling of security. \Vhile the two youths are still Tiger-ding them, first one, then another, is observ to elevate its head to the full hight of its long slender neck; while here and there throughout the flock are heard cries of warning or alarm: the frightened ones letting fall the M already in their beaks, while those not quite so much scared, suddenly swallow them. But in another instant, all, as if by one impulse, 've out a simultaneous scream : then, rising toge er, spread their broad, sail-like wings, and go flap- pllfig away. 0, not all. One stays in the rial-ho; no longer to look after fish, but with both wings outspread over the surface of the stream, beat— ing the water into froth—as it does so. all the while drawing nearer and nearer to the nether bank! But its movements are convulsive and involuntary, as can be told by something seen around its neck resembling a rope. And a rope it is; the youths knowin it to be the lazo they late saw coiled over ‘ ’s arm, know- ing also that he is at the other end of it. He is hauling it in, hand over hand, till the captured bird, passing under the high bank, disappears from their view. Soon, however, to reappear: but now carried under the gaucho’s arm. He cries out as he approaches them: “ Viva I muchachitos.’ Give me congratula- tion, as I intend giving you a good dinner, If we can call (-harqui flesh, as I sup ‘ we must, then we shall have fish, flesh an fowl, all the tililree courses. So we‘ll dine sumptuously, after a I” Saying which, he draws out his knife, and cuts own the cranes crop, exposing to view seve oodly-sized fish, fresh as if just cleared froma raw-net! In ten minutes after they are frizzling over a fire; in twenty more, to bestowed away in other stomachs than that of the soldier-crane. [To BE CONTINUED—COMMENan IN No. 1.] THE BALL-PLAYER’S LAST SONG. The melancholy days have come, The saddest of the year, W’hen those who tread the diamond-field No longer toss the sphere; No longer seize the springy ash - And, nerved to do or die, Hit for a triple—bagger hard, To perish on a fly. No more the umpire‘s “Out at home" Makes some great slider blue, No more the blank-faced crowd is moved To blank the umpire, too. No more the scorer sees a mufl', And marketh down the same, To be informed he‘d better learn A little of the game. No more the man er revolves Advance dates in ' mind, And figures on the rain ‘twill take To run the club behind. No meals at big hotels; no flowers; No picnics to remember; No compliments' no shy, sweet looks—- As Hood would say— ovember. A Youth 3i Nerve. Warm: Murat was in Madrid he was anxious to communicate with J unot in Portugal, but all the roads to Lisbon swarmed with guerrillas, and with the troo com ' Castano’s army. Murat mention his em rrasments to Baron Strogonoflf, the Russian ambassador to Spain. Russia was at that time not onl the all , but the friend of France. M. De no told Murat that it was the easiest thing in the world. “Admiral Siniavin,” said he, “is in the port at Lisbon; give me the most intelligent of your in a Russian uniform, and intrust him with he dispatches for the admiral: all will go well, even if he should be taken prisoner a dozen times between this and Lisbon, for the insurgent army is so anxious to gain our neutrality that it will be . careful not to furnish a pretext for rupture.” swimmingr to do here; the rain don‘t seem to ‘ : scheme. Murat was delightet with this ingenious He asked Kransinski, the command- ant of the lancers, to find him a brave and in- telligent young man. Two days afterward the commandant brou ht the prince a oun man of his corps, for w om he pledged fiis life: his name was Leckinski, and he was but eighteen ‘ years old. in which t ey were engaged when first seen— ‘ that of fishing. Every now and then one darts its long bay- ‘ al highness give me in onet-like beak into the water, invariably draw- ‘ ing it out with a fish between the mandibles: this, after a short convulsive struggle, and a flutter or two of its tail fins, disappearing down the crane’s capacious throat. “Having their breakfast," observes the ‘ gaucho, “or, I should rather call it dinner,” , he adds, with a glance upward to the sky. “ And the hight of that sun reminds me of it’s being high time for us to do something in the same line, if I hadn’t been already reminded of it by a hollow I feel here." He laces his spread palm over the pit of his stomac , and then con- ' tinues: “ So we may as well dine now; though and to say, we haven’t a morsel to make a meal upon but that lj‘iiiliceless charquz'. Santissima .’ ‘ 1g about? I verily believe my ‘ brains have got bemuddled, like everything else. ‘ Nothing but charYui, indeed! Ha! we’ll dine more daintily, if know what's what. Here, uflon’tos .' back your horses behind those bushes. Quick, gently.” hile speaking, he turns his own out of the mm, and rides crouchineg to the rear of the Murat was moved at seeing so young 9. man court so imminent a danger; or if he were de— tected, his doom was sealed. Murat could not help remarking to the Pole the risk he was about to run. The youth smiled. “ Let your imperi— instructions,” answered he, respectfully, “an I will give a good ac- count of this mission I have been honored with. I thank his highness for having chosen me from my comrades, for all of them would have court— ed this distinction.” The prince argued favorably for the young man’s modest resolution. The Russian embas- sador gave him his dispatches, he put on a Rus- sian uniform, and set out for Portugal. The first two days gassed uietly, but on the afternoon of t e t ‘rd, Lec 'nski was surround- ed by a body of Spaniards, who disarmed him, and dragged him before the commanding of- ficer. Luckily for the gallant youth it was Cas- tanos himself. Leckinski was aware that he was lost if he were discovered to be a Frenchman, consequent- ly be determined, on the instant, not to let a sin- le word of French escape him and to speak ussian and German. which he did with equal fluency. The cries of rage of his captors an~ " nounced the fate which awaited him, and the shes intimated, thus putting a screen between E himself and the soldier-cranes. Followin his example, the others do likewise, but withou the all lnéto be after nex . . ypriano inquiring, receives the very unsatis factory answer: “You’ll see.” And the do see; first himself dismounting and ing is bridle to a branch; then detach- in h cagefully adjusting its coils over his left arm. , speaking k in a whisper: eep your test idea of what he is go- ‘ law from its ring in the saddle-tree, and . horrible murder of General Rene, who had per- ished in the most dreadful tortures only a few weeks before, as he was going 0tgj‘oin J unot, was sufficient to freeze the very bl “ Who are you?" said Castanos in French, which language he spoke perfectly well, having been educated in France. Leckinski looked at the questioner, made a . and answered in German: do not understand you.” Castanos spoke German, but he did not wish to appear personally in the matter, and sum- mon one of the oflicers of the staff, who went on with the examination. The young Pole an- “. d h hes 1 th h m , swercd in Russian or German, but never let a is one, cseara rom em,as ewa 5‘ turn to you, an if you can help it, don’t let the . horses make any noise, or budge an inch. For yourselves. silem'w I” As they promise all this, be part; from them, and is soon out of sight; their ast lance show- , going with ing him to be makinghfor the fo bent body and crouc stealing upon its pre . For some ten minutes or so, the neither see b ‘ nor hear more of him; and can 0 y conjecture ed gait, as cat or cougar . r I syllable of French escape him. He might, how- . ‘ ever, easily have forgotten himself, surrounded ound, young masters, till I re- 1 as he was byla crowd eager for his blood, and waiting wit savage im atience to have him do clared guilty, that is, a renchman, to fall upon him and murder him. But their fury was 1 l ! dragging with him a man wearing a brown 5 jacket, tall hat and red plume of a Spanish nt. The oflicer soon fronted him with the Pole, , and said: “ Look at this man, and then sa that he is a German or Russian. swear by my soul.” The peasant, meanwhile, was eyin the pris- oner closely. Presently his dark eyes ' hted up with the fire of hatred. “ He is a Frenchman!” exclaimed he, clapping his hands. And he stated that having been in Madrid a few weeks before, he had been ut in requisition to carr forage to the Frenc ' bar- rack: “and,” said e, “ I recollect that this man took m load of forage, and he gave me a re- ceipt. was near him an hour, and recollect him. When we can ht him, I told my comrade gig is the French car I delivered my forage This was correct. Castanos probably discern- ed the true state of the case, but he was a gen- erous foe. He r0 to let him ursue his 'ourney, for Ieckinski still insisted e was a ussian, and he could not be made tounder- stand a word of French. But the moment he ventured a hint of that kind, a thousand threat- ening voices were raised against him, and he saw that clemency was impossible. “ But,” said he, “ will ou then risk a quarrel with Russia, whose neuf’rality we are so anx- iously asking for?” “No,” said the officer, “ but let us try this man.” Leckinski understood all, for he was acquaint- ed with Spanish. He was removed, thrown in- to a room worthy to have been one of the dun- geons of the Inquisition in its worst days. if itistrue e is a spy, I then the Spaniards took him prisoner he had eaten nothing since the previous evening. and when his dungeon door closed on him he had fasted eighteen hours; no wonder, then, what with exhaustion, fatigue, anxiety, and the ago- ny of his dreadful situation, that the unhappy risoner fell almost senseless on his hard couch. fight soon closed in and left him to realize, in his gloom, the full horror of his situation. He was brave, of course, but to die at eighteen—so suddenly! But youth and fatigue finally yield- ed to the ap roach of sleep, and he was soon buried in pro ound slumber. He had slept perhaps two hours, when the door of his dungeon opened slowly, and some one entered with cautious steps, hi ing with his hand the light of a lamp; the visitor bent over e prisoner’s couch, the hand that shaded the amp touched him on the shoulder, and a sweet and silvery voice—a woman’s voice—asked him: , “ Do you want to eat?” The young Pole, awakened suddenly by the glare of the lamp, by the touch and words of the female, rose up on his couch and, with his eyes only half-opened, said in German: “What do you want?" ‘ Give the man something to eat at once,” said Castanos, when he heard the result of the first experiment, “ and let him go. He is not a Frenchman. How could he have been so far master of himself? The thing is impossible.” But though Leckinski was su plied with food he was detained a prisoner. T e next morning he was taken to a t where he could see the mutilated corpse o the Frenchman who had been cruelly massacred b the peasantry of Truxillo and he was threa ned with the same death. But the noble youth had promised not to fail, and not a word, not an accent, not a ges- ture or look betrayed him. Ieckinski, when taken back t) the prison hailed it with jog; for twelve hours he had nothing but gibbe and death, in its most hor- rid forms, before his e es, exhibited to him 8y men with the looks an passions of demons. e slept, however after the harassing excitement of the day, an soundl too; when in the midst of his deep and dea like slumbers, the door opened gently some one drew near the couch, and a voice whispered in his ear: “ Anne and come with me. We wish to save your life. Your horse is ready.” And the brave oung man, hastily awakened by the words, ‘ We wish to save your life, come ” answered still in German: “ _ t do you want?” Castanos, when he heard of this experiment and its result, said the Russian was a noble young man; he saw the true state of the case. The next morning early four men came to take him before a sort of court—martial, com- of officers of Castanos’s staff. During the walk they uttered most horrible threats against him: but, true to his determination, he pretend- ed not to understand them. then he came before his judges he seemed to gather what was going on from the arming?- ments of the tribunal, and not from what e heard said around him, and be asked in German where his interpreter was. He was sent for and the examination began. It turned at first upon the motive of his jour- ney from Madrid to Lisbon. He answered by shOWing lns dis tchcs to Admiral Siniavin and his passport. pite of the presence and vehe- ment assertion of the peasant, he )ersisted in the same story, and did not contra 'ct himself once. “ Ask him," said the presiding oflicer, at last, “ if he loves the Spaniards, as he is not a French- man f” The interpreter put the question. “ Certainly,” said Leckinski, “ I like the Span~ ish nation; “I esteem it for its noble character: I wish our two nations were friends." “Colonel,” said the inte reter to the presi- dent, “ the risoner says he ates us because we ' make war hke banditti: that he despises us, and that his only regret is that he cannot unite the whole nation as one man, so as to end this odious war at a single blow. While he was saying this, the eyes of the whole tribunal were attentively watching the slightest movement of the prisoner’s counte- nance, in order to see what effect the inte re- ter’s treachery would have upon him. ut Leckinski had expected to be put to the test in some way, and he was determined to baflle all their attempts. “ Gentlemen," said Castanos “it seems to me that this younc man cannot sus ted; the masant must be deceived. The prisoner may pursue his journey, and, when he reflects on the )eril of our position, he will find the severity we ave been obliged to use excusable." Lockinski’s arms and dispatches were return- ed, he received a free pass. and thus this noble youth came victorious out of the severest trial that the human spirit could be put to. The Antwerp Homing Pigeon. (We give our readers the following interesting in- formation on the Homing Pigeon from the notes of T Mr. Van Opstal, the best known fancier of New York.) IT is not known when carrier, or, as now gen- erally called, homing pigeons, were first used to convey messages, but certainly it 18 of great an- 1tiquity. The Romans used them, and they l were also employed in the same wav in Asxa. Tasso s ks of them at the Siege of Jerusalem. raised to a hight which the general himself ’ During the siege of Paris thcy were'used to con- { vey messages beyond the German hnos. Docu— could not control, by an accident which seemed to cut off the unhap y prisoner from every hope of esca ,. One of astanos’s aids-de-camp,- one ; ments of ‘ photogra of the anatical patriots who were so numerous " in this war, who from the first had denounced Leckinski as a French spy, burst into the room, 1 l l at length were printed by micro- ‘ y on films indestructible by water ing only a few grains, and these were ‘ y transmitted by the pi eons With per- , In this country be ore the date of 1, and weig frequent fect success. the telegraph they were occasionally used to I carry important memages. _The carrier pigeon is arger than the common igeon. It measures about fifteen inches in ength, and weighs about one and a quarter pounds. Mr. Opstal stated to us that the Be]- gian carrier weighs three-quarters of a und, which thus seems to be a smaller bird than some of the other varieties. The neck of the carrier is long, and the pectoral or breast muscles are very large, indicating a power of vigorous and long-continued flight. An ap ndage of naked skin hangs across the b‘ and continues down on either side of the lower mandi— ble or jaw. The value of the bird is deter- mined in a great measure by the size and shape of this appendage. The best flyers have it rising high on the head and considerable width across the bill, and have also a wide circlet round the eyes destitute of feathers. It is the love of home which gives such swiftnea; and certainty to the flight of the carrier pi eon. The method of training and flying di 'ers. In Turkey the young pigeons are taken, as soon as they get full strength of wing, in a covered bas- ket to a distance of half a mile from their home, and set at liberty, and if they fail to re- turn they are rejected as of no further use. The distance may be increased to a thousand miles, and 00d birds will return with certainty to their omes. In England the birdsare ke t in a dark room for six hours, then fed sparing , but allowed as much water as they will drink. en preparing for the long-distance races in this country, Mr. Opstal takes his birds to some place near New York and then liberates them, when they return to his house in Lewis street: then he goes to another place and they fly back to the second station, and in this manner station by sta- tion is familiarized to them, and they are used for a long flight. There are now more than ei hty regular stations in the United States w ere gentlemen receive, properly care for, and liberate the Antwerp carrier pigeons. The younger the bird the better for training. When they can fly thirty miles any distance can be accomplished, but if the drill is unsatisfactory, birds of the best breed cannot be trusted. W'hen the bird is thrown up it rises to a good hight, and then flies round and round, evidently for the purpose of finding some well-known ob- ject. On discovering this it instantly darts away, and continues on the wing without stop or sta unless revented, till its home is reached. no suc landmark is seen the bird is lost. In storms and fogs they become bewildered, and sometimes are shot. Pigeons thrown from bal- loons have, after flying round and round with- out findin angelénown ob 'ect, returned to the balloon. he t time 0 day for liberating pigeons for races to be decided within the same day is the very earliest hour of the morning which is accompanied by a favorable state of the atmosphere; for races extending over one day, the best time is about eleven in the morning. mm May to September is the period for flying s The Belgian carrier is a bird of mixed breed but at the present time is esteemed beyond all others. Recently fift -two of these birds made a journey of five hun miles across the Alps, or nine hundred around them. The first rize bird, a hen had two thousand francs, about , offered and refused for her. The female carriers lay eve six weeks, which require eighteen days for atchii'igl. Both parents take good care of the young. ey are the best feeders of any of the variety of pi eons, and the birds grow u hardy and active. eir ordinarv feed is round cracked corn, peas, wheat, buckwheat and hem seed. The favorite colors are blue, blue—cwa ered, silver and red-checkered. The house must be kept clean and well ventilated. They can be trained when three months old, and live on an average ten gears, remaining good birds all the time. Some irds live to be twenty years old. They fly high in flocks of thirty to flft birds. After some training near the house t ey are taken two and three miles, from (point to point. One trial over the same groun is sufficient. The fastest time is a mile a minute. In this country, with a favorable wind and clear at— mosphere, the fastest time has been a mile in four minutes, or onl fifteen miles an hour. During eight days in Angst last 20,800 pi us in 520 hampers were sent K the Northern '1- way for French stations. recent young bird race brougéit together 1 200 birds and in anoth- er, from tampes to Brussels, "(’71 birds were started. At a sale of carrier-pigeons in England a single cock brought £14, or $70, and young birds brought $35 and $65. The whole sale realized $675. The common prices given for Bel- gian birds is from five to ten dollars *r ir. Some will sell for twenty dollars. Ifxwil be seen from these facts that the pigeon is well worthy of study, and that the homing or carrier birds appeal by their intelligent instincts and usefulness to the special interest of man. Since 1873 Mr. Van Opstal has devoted all spare time that could be taken from his business to the rearing and flying of pigeons. He has imported the very best stock, and his experience has 'enabled him to breed very fine birds. The first carriers in this country were of the English breed, and were kept by Englishmen in Phila- delphia. There are more carriers in that city than in any part of the United States. Several races have taken place, most of them having been originated by Mr. O .tal. One race was from Steubenville, Ohio, to ew York, 355 miles, which was successful, but in another from Columbus, Ohio, to New York, two famous birds “ Francis” Louis, belonging to Mr. L. Wae claer, of Hoboken, and “ Mercury,” owned by Mr. Opstal, were lost in a race from Altoona. 235 miles, air line. Mr. Opstal‘s bird, “Jupiter,” won the first prize. Another race originated by Mr. ()pstal was to fly a number of birds 150 miles, air line, from different points in the West to Utica, Troy, Philadelphia and New York, but it was not satisfacto . as the territory was so lar that entirely 'fl’erent winds prevailed, an the birds had not equal advantages. A stundingvprize of $100 in gold is offered by Joseph M. ado to the owner of the first hom- ing pigeon in the United States or Canada that returns five hundred miles in a single flight. Additional prizes have been offered as follows: 350 gold, from L. \Vaefelner; $25 gold from J. Van 0 will]: $5 gold from Frank J. Kinney. The ew England Pigeon and Bantam Society proposes a race from S ingfield during the sum- mer of 1870 under its direction and mana ement: It is proposed that the birds fly from Springfield to their homes wherever started, and to e ualize matters it is intended to make several d' erent clames, viz: lst, for birds that fly only 50 miles and more than 25; 2d, birds that fi more than 50 and less than 100 miles; 3d, bir that fly 100 and less than 150 miles, and so on to ac- commodate the most distant entries. The night before the race all the birds members intend to raca with to be brought to the society rooms in Springfield, and given into the custody of two deputizcd members (who have no birds in the race), and privately stamped with some mark known only to the two persons having them in charge. On the following morning these r- sons to toss the birds. The arrival 0 each ird is to be telegraphed to Springfield together with the stamp on the bird’s wing, which cannot be known by the owner until he actually sees it on his bird. Rubber stamps, with silk and pad, are now manufactured for marking those and other valuable birds. In early times in sending a message the paper was astened to the bird’s neck or leg, but Mr. Opstal informs us that the custom now is to tie it to one of the tail-feathers. IN one week a Naples merchant fished up from the Mediterranean ten tons of coral. A NIMROD in Ohio, Herkimer county, shot tifi'o bgars right under the shadow of the village c urc . THE Rush City .Posf' says that Frank Hoar killed a she bear, weighing about 350 pounds, near that town. The fat on her back was five inches thick. - A FAMOUS man in the mines is Baldy Pike, the man that originated the proverb of “ When I struck Laramy Plains, Laramy Peak was a hole in the ground.” LYDIA SQUINN, the last lineal descendant of the famous Indian 'King Phillip. is still living at Bedford. Mass, and although eighty-three years of age, is still bright and Vigorous. A LEOPARDESS in a circus at Davenport, Iowa, gave birth, recent] , to a cub that was pretty enough to eat, an ate it ere it had ar- rived at the early age of five minutes. AN Olean squirrel is credited with having carried ofl’, in one week, thirty-two bushels of buckwheat and eight bushels of corn, and hid the same in a lot of sap buckets in the woods. HENRY 1V. PAGE, of Gold Hill, is said to be a formidable rival to Carver and Bogardus. He recently shot at 1,000 glass—balls, and smashed 910 out of 1,000. He broke the first 100 without a miss. JOHN KEEN, the champion bicycle rider of Great Britain, challenges any man in the United States, Canada, or Great Britain to ride from one to one hundred miles, for £100 to £5000aside. A FINE buck ran for many miles in front of an Erie ex ress train a few days ago, and was then land on the cow-catcher, dead. Its ant- lers are to adorn the head-light of the locomo— tive, run by Engineer Allen, which overtook the swift-footed animal. ' THE young King of Spain is said to be far less nervous in regard to assassins than the old Emperor of Germany. The first has been fired at only once, while the Emperor—countin his imperial experience only—has been shot at tires times, and hit once. A REMARKABLE dwarf has been added to Barnum’s show. Her name is Nellie Keeler, age 11 years, weight 12 pounds, and hight25 inches. She was born of American parents near Logansport, Ind., is pretty, well-formed, and interesting in conversation. JOSEPH, chief of the Nez Perccs is described as a man, who, by his distinguished bearin , would attract notice anywhere. He has a nob 6 figure and a clean-cut, handsome face, with a bright, clear, expressive eye, and a quick, nerv— ous manner, in strong contrast with the Indian’s usual stolidity. THE coral-fishers of Torre del Greco discov- ered two years ago, a new coral bank around the Island of Sicily- but, being intruders, they were driven off by t e Sicilians until a vessel of the royal navy was stationed near the gmt to secure fair play, both parties taking the shing by turns. 1. A FARMER of Washington county, Pa , aged eight , married a girl of twenty. . The bride’s el er brother had previously espoused the groom’s only daughter. 8. The old gentle- man, therefore, is his son-in-law’s brother-in-law, and his wife is her sisterdn-law’s stepmother and her brother’s stepmother-in —1aw, etc. RA'I'I‘LESNAKE JACK is an instructive Western character for Eastern boys to read about. He wore a buck-skin suit, carried a rifle, and told marvelous stories about fighting bears and In- ' 3. He was the envy of Sacramento for a week; then he was arrested as a horse-thief, and evidence has since been found that he isa mur- derer. A PORCELAIN waterin pot, eighteen pairs of garters, a coffee filter, a b ack coat, six umbrella handles, a dozen corkscrews. fifty jars of mus- tard, a pair of pantaloons, a purse, a pair of tweezers for the beard, a pipe, a pair of corsets, a jack-in-a-box and a buggy are among the last lot of prizes in the Frenc 1 National Lottery ad- vertised in the Journal Ofl'icicl. FROM the 1st of May to the lst of November, 203,157 forei ers entered Paris and were regis- tered at hote s and lodging houses, 40 nationali— tics being recorded, whi e there were 1,674 “ mis- cellaneous.” There were 21,778 Germans, 13,- 573 residents of the United States. 58.916 Eng- lish ople, 8,510 Austrians, 28,830 Belgians, 10,- 004 paniards, 6 682 Dutch, 14,968 Italians, 5,- 725 Russians, an 11,980 Swiss. A PANAMA newspaper tells the following story of the sagacity of a dog: “ \Vhen the dog wishes to cross the river where alligators abound, he goes up the stream a great way and barks with all his might. The alligators go there and wait for his getting in to 0 across. The do r knows what he is about. TV hen he sees from t e num- ber of snouts above water that his enemies have all gathered to the feast, he runs down the bank as fast as he can and swims across before the al- ligators are aware of the trick that has been played upon them.” SOME twenty—five years ago David P. Tcxter, residing on the Massillon road, in Ohio, had in his possession a silver half dollar, made in the Year 18%, and that being his natal year, he cut his name on it and thoughtto retain it as a relic. After several years, however, he paid it out one dav by mistake, along with some other money, and for twenty years it took its course. Re— cently he sent his little daughter to Massillon on an errand, and upon her return home she gave him some change, and with it was the identlcal half dollar with his name out on it. GERMAN soldiers have of late had their fare greatly varied and improved without adding to its cost, as witness this bill of fare for one week: Sunday—Broth, roast beef and potatoes, With onion sauce. Monday— Breakfast, thickened soup; dinner, pork, tatoes and as. Tuesday —Break:fast, Semolma broth; dinner oatmeal grue], beef, potatoes and cabbage. Vi ednesday —Breakfast. thickened soup: dinner Vegetable soup, meat, potatoes and beans. hursday— Breakfast, Semolina broth; dinner, rice broth, beef and fried potatoes. Friday—Breakfast, thickened sou :dinner, fried bacon, iotatocs and peas. l aturday —— Breakfast, molina broth; dinner, oatmeal gruel, beef, potatoes and cabbage. POPE LEO delights in the Italian s rt of lark catching, and when Archbishop of crugia had a rocolo. This is formed as follows: A sloping piece of ground is selected and round this a quantity of brushwood is placed. A number of nets abOut 15 feet high are placed romid the bmshwood, and at one end asnmll but is erected to conceal the bird-catcher. A number of worms and insects are put upon the ground. and also some larks, which are tied by the foot, and the presence of which attracts others. \1 hen a large number of birds have ahghtcd the bird- cntcher rings a bell, which startlos them as they are feeding, and before they have had timeto fly away a string is pulled and the nets fall to the ound. Many are thus caught. A rocolo has . n ordered for the Vatican. ' A\ a.. ‘rva‘LQ-iiwbuufll‘ a. ' a» «:v‘ A «.4 .u ..- -;.,,v,.... *1. .3w A.- t . up“ a... awn-«mascot» “a” " mmemv-v r “#9? -' -4“ ..-...-.-.. .- .. .......'-»M .. < --.v-.~......._... V b” e ‘u I. v I g. -o u,~.l...'f~ vac-r. 41'»! '-u"':. wmb-i. a K a) 3% MONDAY, DECEMBER 16, 1678. Terms to Subscribers. One copy, six months, . . . . 31.25 | “ ‘ one year, . . . . . 2.50 , Two copies, one year. . . . . 4.50 v Address all remittances and communications to ADAMS AND COMPANY, Publishers. 98 William Street, N. Y. “All out-door games, athletic sports, rowing, ball i, games, etc., OL'G‘IIT TO BE ENCOURA GED, for i. the sake of the health which they promote."——HENRY \VARD ancaaa. ’ l 3 Young Men’s Societies. ’ THE love of society, while not peculiar to hu- l manity, produces peculiar effects among men. 3 A herd of deer are as easily slaughtered as one stag, but a society of men is stronger than the 3, same number not united. , It can do better and more effective work, for E the reason that a number of minds, bent on a common object, discover and remedy difficul- ties with which no single man can be expected to cope. Young men see this as well as old ones, and we therefore have young men‘s clubs, as numer- ous as the sands of the sea. Schoolboys and collegians are always getting up such societies, and it is of them that we wish to say a few words at present, especially in regard to those which employ secret initiations, passwords, etc. We have been asked to give our opinion on secret societies in relation to young men, and can find no better opportunity than the present. Ever since the first dawn of history we find records of benevolent societies, using confiden- tial means by which their members can be recognized by each other, to prevent the intru- sion of unworthy persons. These societies have risen and fallen, but have always been succeed- ed by others, because they appeal to an element common to all mankind—that of sympathy. The world-wide fame of Masonry, and the names of the great men who have belonged and still belong to its ranks, are too well kn0wn to require more than a passing comment. The fact that ‘VASHINGTON was an enthusiastic Mason, and that most American Statesmen have been members of similar orders, has given a great impetus to benevolent societies in America, where their numbers are greater than in any other country. We have Masons, Odd Fellows, Knights of Pythias, Foresters, Druids, etc., all similar in their aims, which are of the highest moral tone; while the Temperance “Bands of Hope,” “Temples of Honor” and kindred or- ganizations, show the strong nature of the tie that binds them together. Foralong time the youth of America have been cut off from the privileges of benevolent orders, though college and school societies have been numerous. The trouble with these last has been, that on account of their small size and in- dependent aims, they have had no strength. Moreover, they have too frequently been made the means of perpetrating practical jokes by mock initiations. It seems to us that what these societies now lack is a. common bond of union, which shall join together the scattered efforts now making in thousands of villages, by directing them to a single aim. The secret signs of benevolent societies, as they now exist, are found to be safeguards against the intrusion of bad elements, and we see no reason why they should not serve the same purpose in School and College Socie- ties. But we see clearly and repeat here that our School and College Societies of all kinds need a common bond of union. that that bond is we hope to suggest in future numbers. Moderation in Exercise. “ SLOW and sure” is an old adage and a true one, which oun g men e ially need to re- member in t eir exercises and athletic games. It does not ay a young man to go into training for a ten-mile run and to win it in the presence of thousands of Spectators, if he ends by laying the foundation of heart disease. Such cases are by no means uncommon, and young men can- not be too often warned of the dim er of over- exertion. Dumb-bells and Indian c ubs should be light, if they are expected to do good and in- crease the health of the user, for lar e muscles may be gained at the expense of vita ity. The * only exercise that never was known to in 'ure a man’s life is walking; and even that, if ta en to excess, produces more or less lamenem. On the whole, we advise our readers to stud modera- - tion in exercise if they hope to reap its utmost benefits. Hare and Hounds. Araoros of our front e illustration and the jolly game it describes, t e New York Sun 2 8a . steaders of ‘Tom Brown’s School Days at . Rugby’ need no introduction to the old En - lish game of ‘Hare and Hounds.’ which Co . Kane and a few other Westchester men have 1 recently introduced in the county north of us. It ranks next to football and cricket in excite- ment and far exceeds them in healtth and en- 1 livenmg exercise. It is an admirable substitute . for people who cannot have real fox-hunting, - and has the merits of cheapness and adapt- . ability to any and all localities and circum- ‘ stances. The essence of the game consists in l - pices of the Brimswick an I _ pears to give promise of something out of the ‘ any busrriess to do there’s nothin the chase of two crack runners—the Hares— 1 across fields, hedges, ditches, and woods innu- E merable until the goal is reached. The Hares carry with them a bag containing small pieces 1 of white r—the scent—which they are 1 bound to distribute so as to leaVe a plain trail , for their pursuers—the Hounds. The latter, on their part, must follow the scent, no matter I where it leads, over walls through brooks, and in whatever direction the ,Hares choose to take. Large clubs and associations have sprung up in 4 various parts of England for the purpose of ‘ racticing this ime. Not the least admira- ‘ hle feature of t 6 game is that it excludes the bruisings and consequent bad spirit which too 1 often find vent in football and similar sports. Billiard Tournaments. THE announcement of a (1 international billiard tourney, to take lace under the aus- Balke company, ap- ordina law pro ibits pool—sellin qkiliestion are bent upon profemional track, inasmuch as the August, 1868, which is one of the most convinc- ing essays on the evils of hquor-drinking we have ever read. In fact if any man can read it attentively, and not be t oroughly convmcod of the injurious effects of alcoholic drinks on the healthy system, he must be either too weak to escape the rule of prejudice, or too much the slave of appetite to allow reason to_have sway. Our object, in referring to the article in ques- 1 tion, is to call the attention of those who train for athletic feats in general, and of the ball- laying fraternity in rticular, to the worse than useless effects of a coholic drinks—~whether ' in the form of spiritS, wine, or beer—in train- ing, or as an incentive to extra exertiontin any contest in which physical skill or physical en- durance is required. Mr. Parton brings strogr‘ifi testimony to bear upon the point of the alle invigorating ualities of alcoholic drinks. On this brancho histopic he says: “Eve . man that ever trained for a supreme exe ion of strength knows that Tom Sag-in s ke the truth when he said: ‘ I’m no teeto er ut when I’ve like water and the dumb-bells.’ Richard Co on, whose now, and the firm in h powers were subjected toa far severer trial than aving the contest for , a pugilist ever dreamed of, whose labors by t e prizes carried on in such form as to preclude ‘ night and day, during the com-law struggle the possibility of crooked work. If this can be done, then a new era in professional billiard playing will have been inaugurated. The amount of cash prizes will be 82,100. First prize, $1200, and a handsome emblem repre- sentin the championship of the world: second, $500; t ird, $300: and fourth, $100. The games will be 600 points up, one played each afternoon and evening. Cooper Institute has been chosen for the s )ort, and will be fitted up so that every one can ave a full view of the games. Our Amateur Walkers. THE following letter is one of a kind of which we expect to receive more soon. PHILADELPHIA, Nov. 29th, 1878. » Mnssas. AnAns & Co.: DEAR SIRS: Acting upon your suggestion, my brother and I took a walk on Thanksgiving Day * from Philadelphia to Mount Holly, New Jersey. Our es are respectively 16 and 18. e left home at 6:25 A. l., Thursday; were at Market street Ferry at 6:35 (walked); were in Cam- den, 6:50; reached Merchantville, 7:40: Moor-es- town, 8:53: Hartford, 9:45: Mount Holly, 10:50. Hav- ing walked altogether about 20 miles in four hours without stoppin , and with but one drink of water. Moorestown is nine miles from Camden. I never walked over two miles in my life before on a stretch that i know of; that is. doing it on time. Do you think that it is fast walking, as the roads were mudd .9 I did not feel much tired when the journey was nished, and danced there after- ward. We are glad to receive this letter, because it shows that American boys, without training but with pluck, can do good work. This walk, exe- cuted by two boys, neither of whom had any previous experience, is quite remarkable the distance to Mount Holly from the middle of Philadelphia being nearly twenty-two miles on the best maps. This, executed in four hours and a-half, is creditable to any, and more than cre- ditable to perfectly untrained boys. The names of our young pioneers are Alexander K. and Samuel T. Kerr, and the tallest is onl five feet six inches and weighs only a hund and fifteen pounds. lVe should not be surprised to hear more of these young fellows before long in the walking way. The Captain's Pigeons. CAPT. Booxanos gave a shootingrexbibition at the Brooklyn Drivrng Park on- hanksgiving Day, that was by no means as successful as his glass-ball feats, while it was much more cruel. He undertook to kill 75 pigeons out of 100, the first 50 to be shot from any of five tra at 25 yards rise; the rest double birds at £3 yards rise. The attendance to see the marksman shoot was great, but the sport was decidedly poor. The pigeons would not fl well, and some even did not leave the trap. he ca tain got angry, and consequently missed many irds. The poor dumb creatures did not seem to know that they were let out to be murdered, and so were pro- vokingly tame. Out of the first 50, Bogardus actually missed 14. Then came the double birds, and the enthusiastic reporters of the daily apers record the ca tain’s rogressin glowin anguage, as bird a ter bir was dropped d or crippled within the bounds rescribed by the rules. Of the doubles he ki led 39 birds and missed 11, so that the final score stood 75 killed and 25 missed in the 100, and Bogardus just saved his stakes. Altogether, we think it would be decided] better for the captain to stick to shooting glzss—balls for the future. They are sure to fly, and they cannot be tortured as igeons can, The poor creatures that seen rom Bogardus only did so to be slaughtered by the dozens of so—called “ rtsmen’ who were waiting outside of the “ bounds” for their op- portumty. Altogether the captain’s latest pi- geon match, like the others that took place on the same day, was an exhibition of cruelty en- tirely unworthy of imitation. Thanksgiva Day was prolific of these per- formances. T ere were amateurs at Morgan’s, N. J ., at Newark, Cortlandt Lake, N. Y., Wil- liamsbridge, Westbrook, L. I., and other places. They slaughtered pigeons to their hearts’ con— tent, and probably not one of them gave a thought to the question of whether the pi ns enjoyed it. Of all “sports” so called, t is is one of the most gratuitously brutal, and we are sorry that Mr. Bergh’s agents were not able to grevent it, at least on public grounds, in New ork State. We k by the card in this matter, our re- porter aving been present on the ground at the most numerousl attended of these meetings. The way in whic the poor pigeons that escaped the guns of the marksmen were slaughtered by the outsiders was particularly sickening, one man actually shooting at 9. pi eon not two feet from the muzzle of his gun. hese occurrences, however, may have one good effect if they are exposed. The may make pigeon—shooting un- fashionable. e hope they Will. Temperance in the Ball Field. THE folly of liquor drinking b base-ball play- ers is so glaring, and its demo izing results are so plain. that we cannot conceive how any pro- fessional club Board of Directors or club Manager can allow the evil habit to exist in their team. Its damaging effects during the past season were very apparent, especially in International Club teams. Temperance should be as strictly en- ‘ ; joined and enforced in a professional base—ball = team durin the playing season as honest service if the full 5 'll of each player is to be brought into play. How many ball-players there are who, at match after match, are deluded into the notion that by drinking whisky in the midst of their game they thereby impart new vigor to their bodies, clear their judgment and s' ht, and in- : spirit them to greater endurance. w en the un- deniable fact is, that the liquor they drink does the very reverse of all these things, as it neither nourishes the system norclears the sight: on the contrary, infiames the stomach clouds the brain, and actually weakens the who e man. That able American essayist, Mr. James Par- ton, had an article in the Atlantic Monthly for s were excessive and continuous beyond those 0 any other member of the House of Commons, bears similar testimony: "The more work I havetodo, the more I have resorted to the pump or the tea-pot.’ I have a lon list of references on this point; but in these t-racin , priso- fighting days, the fact has become too amlliar to require proof. One m Horace Greeley teetotaler, came to his office for an absence of several days, and found letters and arrears of work that would have been a polling to any man but him. He shut himse in at 10 A. IL, and wrote steadily, without leaving the room, till 11 r. M.—thirteen hours. When he had fin- ished he had some difficulty in getting down- stairs, owing to the stifiness of his joints, caused by the long inaction; but he was as fresh and smiling the next morning as though he had done nothing extraordinary. Are any of us drinkers of wine and beer ca ble of such a feat'i Then, durin the war, w n he was writing his his- tory, he performed every day for two years two days’ work—one from nine to four, on his book; the other, from seven to eleven, on the Tribune; and, in addition, he did more than would tire an ordinary man in the way of correspondence and public speaking. I may also remind the reader that Mr. Beecher, who, of all others in the United States, expends most vitality, both with tongue and pen, and who does his work with least fati e and most gayety of heart, is an- other of ranklin’s ‘water Americans.” DANIEL O'LEARY. CHAMPION WALKER OF THE WORLD. DANIEL O’Lnsnr, now recognized as the champion walker, not onl of America, but all the world, is an ado ted citizen of this country, but by birth an Insgm' an. He gave his history to the world last spring, in the columns of the New York Sun, just before his departure for the Astley Tournament in London, where he made his re utation. It seems t at, like many another, he was first sApurred to emulation b the doings of our native merican champion, dward Payson Weston. It was Weston’s great walk from Portland to Chicago in 1867 that first excited ublic in- terest in American Pedestrianisms. ad Wes- ton never started onthat walk it is probable that O’Leary would have remained undistinguished save b a local reputation. As it is, b hard work ’Leary has succeeded in beating eston, but his career as a estrian can never be com- pared to that of 0 Rhode Islander for diffi- culty. When Weston started on his Portland w he had to go scrom country in all weathers, exposed to the attempts of men who had bet against him, and who tried to frighten him off the road, or, failing that, to poison him. He had every one against him, and few for him. He was doing a new thin , and the chances were not in his favor. That e accomplished his feat was a. grand trium h for American pluck. O’Leary, who had ways been called a good walker among his friends, had the advantage of many previous contests for training purposes when e met and vanquished Weston at last. He was seven years younger and eight pounds heavier, which are serious vantages in a con- test between men over thirty years old. The difference between twent -two and twenty- seven is rather in favor of t 8 older man, but as between thirty-one and thirty~eight the case is veri different. Daniel O’Leary was born in Cor , Ireland, in 1345, stands five feet eight and ahalf inches in hismoes, and weighs 146 unds in walking trim. From the time when hi: first began to walk races in Chicago he has never lost an event, though in his first contest he suf- fered severely. It will give an idea of the difii- culties of long-distance walkin to learn from the champion that when this rst match was over, although won, he found that he “ knew nothing about walking ” and that when he pulled off his walking shoes he brought awa most of the skin of his feet and two 0 his nai s with it. This was owing to improper shoes, which did not fit in the right way, and O’Leary says that he has hunted all over the country for perfect walking shoes ever since, without finding them till he struck a countryman, named McSwyny, in the Bowery, New York City. Since O’Leary's t-London victory, McSwyn has therefore e famous as a maker of shoes and has more orders than he can fill. The victory of O’Leary at the Astley Tourna- ment is so well known now, that we need only recapitulate the leading facts. The Tournament was for a chain ion belt, of- fared by Sir John Astley to e man who could cover the greatest ' ea in six days on his own unamisted feet. 0’ contended against the best walkers and runners in England, of whom Vaughan, Corke and “Blower” Brown were the most remar ble. He tired them all out, and was declared winner, after covering 520 1-4 miles, in 139 hours, 6 min- utes, 10 seconds. Vaughan, the best of his 0 nents, made 500 miles before he retired: ince that contest, which took lace last 5 rin , O’Ieary’s time has never been ten, alt oug the distance covered by him in six days has been excelled. Cor-key won the second Astley tournament, a. few weeks since, as we have be- fore recorded, making 521 miles within the re- ' time, and Napoleon Cam has done miles and 54 feet inside of 14 hours. Still, no one hasyet ualed O’Leary’s distance in the same number of ours. Of course public inter- est just now will center on O’Leary chiefly in connection with his latest rival Campana. We publish in our athletic columns the details of the recent challenge and reply of the two men, which make it evident that there will be no “ hipgodromin ,” so-called—that is, sham contest— ut that th are bent on accomplish- ' great feats. Asfor 0’ his intention of ing into fore his next wafi his frame is ca ingbe ble. Therefore we may e _ Xpect $23MIononr'ecordwillbeleft farbe] In viewin the contestants, the chances must be conf by Campana’s best friends to be tly in favor of the present champion. He is eleven years younger and perfect] healthy, while Campana is a man of forty-t two severe internal injuries alread and varicose veins in his le into open sores when strain severely by a walk. Under ordinary circumstances no one but madmen would back the older man, but his recent wonderful performance in Bridgeport shows that there is something in “ Sport,’ be- received, hidallh'aldi b" ‘ : abo‘sto - n p ysrc sa ility, which may yet land , gr “qwofld of Sport‘ firmed y Adlai. “36:” him a winner. That somethin the indomitable order. As 0 this quality in an equal measure, cannotfailtobeinthe highestdegree in ing and exciting. I . . so as to do the Of whmh ‘ nduce them to be noble and true. as the Almighty isoourage of. ‘ lookingpa rs,t pograp cally that it was everour e. conltm ? good fortug to Boys, it is’just what” want, , he announces 1 i , with i w 'ch break - Spcclal Notice.—Tnn Youm Nsw Yours is prepared to answer questions on all the subjects treated of in the paper. Competent writers have been engaged for our departments of sport, pas- times, athletics, etc., so that our readers may de- pend ou correct information. We shall be pleased to receive accounts from sch001 and college clubs of contests in athletics of all sorts, of shooting and fishing excursions, whether of parties or of single perbns. and to publish the same if of interest to our readers. We will add some special requirements in reports of matches. We want to know: 1. Place. name and date of match. I]. Conditions in full, rules, etc. III. Prizes in order. IV. Prize winners and their time, distance, or score, according to contest. . is. science... ...... p... .. esc cs 0 to MD laliily written, especisll as regards names and gumbers. The dcscriptiog should be short. For shooting contests at glass balls give always place, date, name of club, nameof competition, kind of trap and bans used. distance of rise, boundary. rules lgoverning, and Weather. N. .—We do not undertake to decide wagers, nor to deal with anything involving the elements of gambling and betting in any form. Ad all communications to Enrroa Youno wa Yours, as William street, New York City. 3' The publishers of Tm: Your": Nrw Yours will always be glad to receive and consider contribu- tions from authors of well-known reputation on sub- jects suitable for, and congenial to, boys and young men. Such contributions will be given curly atten- tion, and early use when found available. Josn KARI, Nashua. N. H., wants to know if boys ever go. on whaling voyages, and if they are made good sailors thereby? Answna. Boys of less than eighteen, unless ve stron and active, are not Wei- come on board w ers. I they are both, and have good temper and courage, they t on, but the life is wiry hard. They become g sailors if they stick 0 i . Ann writes from Brooklyn: “1 am a reader of your valuable paper; and looking through its columns, find every thing that b0 3 care about, ex- cept bird-traps and snares. ope you will find place for one in the columns of your paper." Ax- swra. We shall very soon have a good series of ar- ticles on these subjects; also, on camping out—how and where to do it. J. S. A. writes: “I am captain and coxswain of a four-cared barge. All of the crew not over eighteen. What I want to know is this: lst. Where can I t a book on rowing and training. 2d. A ms 0 the North and East rivers. 3d. And rowing irts and caps?“ Auswsa. 1. Send 10 cents to office Yorsn erw Yoanm and we will send you a manual. 2. At J. H. Colton & Co., map-maker's, N. Y. City. a. Any sporting goods emporium. S. L. N. writes: “ Would like to kn0w through your correspondents' column: 1. How old a non has to be before he can enter the navy. 2. W ether 3 Con- ssman can appoint a person as midshipman. 3. ow many he can appoint during his term of office; and 4. Whether this privilege of appointment is con- fined to Congressmen only? ’ Assme 1. Fourteen. if he ships before the most, but seventeen if he enters Annapolis. 2. Yes. 3. One each year from his district. 4. No. The President has the point ment of twenty cadets “at large,“ so call every year. ADDISON Puss, Newark, N. J., asks: “CsnI getto be a good_ autistth a book of instruction and studying and p cing y myself; or, o ht I to have a master, to becomes Snood yer?" swim. You can learnto playthe to m books if you have great tienoc and perseverance, but on will get on qiuc er and better with a master. T e prin- cipaluseofamasteristospuronhis pu ils tocon- starit work and h them over diflc ties which books cannot ment on, because no twO alike in eve respect. Our advice is to the book an take a master to finish you. gw£3£tioxgmg 'It‘gckahoe, N. Y.,rxants to know w o ver p egreat sto tor! Answm Mr William T. Acdams, better lir’nown as “Oliver tic," is an old resident of Boston, and a member 0 the great Adams famil , which has all-cad given two Presidents to the Uni States. He is ty—five years or age, and has written more boys” books than any man now livin . except, rhaps, Ca t. Mayne Re d, having publis ed 74 v0 umes, of w ich more than a million copies have been sold. We have in hand for early use written specially for Tnl: Yovno Nsw Yoaxim, the best story Oliver 0 tie ever duced, and our boy readers will be de htcd wi it. Jars Hmauvm, Portland, Ila, wants to know if it is not true that the ' horse is the swiftest and best in the world? Answlu. It was true two hundred years ago, but the first rank in horsefiesh now belongs to the “thoroughbred,” walled and has fluctuated in different years between England, France and America, as decided by the races of the years in uestion. A “thoroughbred " horse is one whose igree is to be found in the Eriilhh, French or American “Stud Books," official u “cations of the National Rac‘ Associations of ose countries. This is really the o y test of a thoroughbred. If his name, birth and pedigree be not reco in the Stud Books, he cannot be as a true ‘ thoroughbred." When we come to examine the lin 0 these horses lnthe Stud Books, we find one t g common to all. Without exce on, they trace the i- origin to horses of Arabian more or less corrupted. The Godolphln Barb, the erly Turk, the Darley Arabian, and two or three other horses of similar blood, are the ancestors of all our “ thoroughbred " horses, the Godolfilhin horse being the most distin ished of all. Wit 'n the last fifty ears, thoro h reds have been raced Ara- ians overan over mimshonrscesand ng, heavy weights and light, and have always beaten them. Therefore we may say that the Arab is no longer the swiftest horse in the world, but it-is equally true that he has onl been excelled by his own descendants, transf to happier circumstances. KIND WORDS. WI: continue to receive from our co n- dents letters which indicate that they think YOUNG Nrw Yonm has hit the nail on the head. Here are a few: Cam K. writes: “ You have just piiblhhed what the Jersey boys want, and that is a bogs’ sporting paper. Please keep all those bad sto es out, as there are in all Tgapera; but be sure to keep all Indian stories out. at is what makes the boys go out West (to kill Indians). I DOIIEIIJE your paperassoonaslsaw it, because Icould itwas pils are n with , a good paper right away." A. 17.18133. Red Jacket, Mich. says: “Being in the news business, that enterprising firm, The Amer- ican News 00. sent me your paper on sale, and I must say. it —it pleases young and old, and is hot what the boys want—something to elevate and intended they should be. As opportunity units, I shall send in a little sketch now and then in this. the greatest co per and iron producing district in the world the ke Superior region as it is com- monly called. Wishing your paper the success it deserves. I claw." Gross: A. Axum: writes from Brooklyn, N. Y. : “I want to thank you. in behalf of my :- ances, for placing before the public my)” which has long been needed. We hope on succeed in your undertaking. Myself an f nds can now read something solid. The cuts on the other boys’ papers were so large, and the titles were so silly, t at used to be ashamed to let people see in? reading them. 1 Receive our thanks and patronage. .1 ous stuff usually found in Tin Lamia (N. B.) Journal says: “We have be— fore us Tar: Yorito Nrw Your William St., New Yor which is one of the neatest as it contains healthy reading, instead of poison- so-called “ boyl' papers." ,«mna....x.. \- THE SKATER. av vie-ma unma. I love to gallop on the road, Or float along the tide; To urge my horse to effort brave, Or row on rivers wide. I love to waltz about a room, Some fairy girl beside; But, oh, I love. the best of all. On steely skates to glide! I love to swim and float and dive— To walk on ocean's floor; I love to ramble on the sands With her whom I adore. I love aloft in a balloon ~ Like eagle vast to soar; But, oh, I love, the best of all, To skate the smooth ice o'er. ‘Tis swimming, flying, both in one! ‘Tis motion's keenest bliss! The cold air on m glowing face Is sweet as mai en’s kiss. The blood runs riot in my veins— Such pleasure who would miss? The heated balh-oom, la ‘d dance. Who could compare wit this? The swallow, in her zig-zag flight, Than I, could sooner tire; I lide along the g1 pond ' ‘e lightning o‘er t e wire; Nowclliere. now there, I rush andtw ‘irl, An larger space require —— 0h, fish me from this air-hole, friends. And dry me by the fire! The TEE—amen , the holy knowing well that she could not hope to hide from the horsemen. True to hispromise, Charlton took the road to the Residency, and approached the ounds with Luchmee sti a safe prisoner. en the girl seemed to row very uneasy, for she twisted and fldge so much that Charlton said sternly: “ Be still or I will hand you over to the Sirdar I Hamet, to be bound." “ Oh. Sahib, dear, kind Sahib ” whispered the roplhet Mohammed, by the great Bra- mah and ’is 1100, by the great Queen of Cal- cutta, that I will never try to harm you again! Sweet Sahib, I did not know you were so brave and handsome. Poor Luchmee will be your slave forever, to serve you night and day. if 3 you will only take her to J agpore, and not be- ; fore this old man. 1 a devil they say.” He is a magician and keeps Char ton hesitated. He was young and not insensible to the voice of flatter , and moreover 1 ~ herself while they were in the burnt jungle, I be grateful for that. I will dance before the Rajah for you; and the chief Thug in the room will be the man to whom I throw a rose.” As she spoke, the steward returned with a long face. “ The old woman will lend no dresses. She has the inipudence to sa that if the Ma 'or Sahib wishes the girl to nce before the he must fee the mother handsomely.” Charlton laughed, and took off a ring from ‘ his finger. dulcet tones of the beautiful Lautch-girl, close ? to his ear, “let me go this time and I swear by r I he thought he knew all about t e Thugs by this . , time, and how to control them. 1 “ Will you swear by the goddess Kalee to be . true to me and help me punish your accom- - : plices?” he asked. sternly, with a vision in his I mind of astonishing Sir Douglas by his revela- 7 tio l ns. p “ I will tell you all," said Luchmee earnestly: ‘ and she allowed her head to drop on his breast, ; while she wept softly and kissed the buttons of 1 his uniform in the most humble manner. The ' , were near the Residency when this happene , i and Charlton relented so far that he passed it ; and rode right into the town of Ja 1 about “ half-seas-over,” in drin “ Talre this woman to the Dh a, give her this ring, and tell her to let Luc ee do as she wishes." The steward bowed to the floor and vanished with Luchmee. Half an hour later, Major Charlton, in his handsomest uniform, his Sword-belt and but- } tons gleaming with jewels, entered the Rajah’s ran saloon, where the great man lolled on a ( ivan, surrounded b his courtiers. Rani Sing gree the soldier at once, with the most effusive cordiality. CHAPTER XII. THE QUEEN OF THE NAUTCH-GIRLS. “ AHA, major, where have you been!I Shiver my timbers, ole boy, howahyali?”* bellowed the Rajah Ram Sing, in his liar En lish, hold- ing out his hand. “ a jungle re and a storm, and half the bamr unroofed—and—oh, boppery bop .' (nonsense). Sit down and take a glass 0’ sham.” It was evident that the Rajah was already 'ing phrase: and ‘ as he was good-natured in his cups u to a cer- re through , l the ancient gates, where he had to nock loudly i 1 before the guards would admit them. 1 Once inside, he felt quite safe, for the people E of Jagpore, as a rule. were devoted to him; and 0f the as he rode through the silent and deserted A TALE OF INDIA. BY CAPT. FREDERICK WHI'I‘TAKER. CHAPTER XI. AFTER STORM, CALM. THE storm was over. It passed off as sud- denl as it had come on, but all round the tank of ultan Tippoo a scene of black desolation resented itsel . Only the lofty teak trees were eft standing. and they were frequently scorched to the very summits by the darting flames from the feather ' bamboo thickets that had served as fuel to t e flame. A broad swath of leveled trees told of the path of the tornado, followin the side of a hill that overlooked the tank, an zigzagging to and fro like a worm fence. The shores of the tank were strewn with dead bodies of animals, and more than one of Charlton‘s troopers had been seriously hurt by the tempest. The rest, a disconsolate band, their clothing in tatters, their bodies, and those of their horses, covered with gashes from the sharp stones, pre- sented a sorry appearance, as they searched along the shore for their commander. The lately dry ravine was now a foaming torrent. twenty feet deep in the center, and Charlton found that the log on which he, Luchmee and the leopard were floating, was about a hundred feet from the shore, toward which the current from the ravine was bearing it. He felt for his pistols to shoot the leopard, ' but the weapons were so wet that he feared to use them and drew his sword instead, with which he drove the beast into the water, hav— ing the pleasure of seeing it swim away to shore as soon as the light became strong enough to show where the were. Then the afternoon sun shone out as ot as ever, and he f01md him— self alone on the log with the cowering Luchmee. The girl had not spoken a word since she fiist ized him, only shrinking d0wn into the center of a fork of the tree, as if she were over- come with terror and shame. Charlton stood up and shouted to his men, whom he saw searching for him, and soon had the gratification of watching them ride toward the lace whither the log was drifting. “ , Luchmee,” he observed; “the will of the goddess Kalee, in whom your tribe trust, is that you should be my prisoner. You fled to the jungle, and it was burnt over your head. You escaped the fire in the ravine, and the tor- rent carried you away to me. Now you will come with me to the Resident of J re.” Luchmee shivered but made no rep y, and the soldier continued more kindly: “ “’hy did you try to kill me? I never harmed you. On the contrary, I am so little angry with you now, that if you will swear never to ive me the guarantee attempt my life again and to names of your accomplices, I wi your freedom." Luchmee looked up as if she did not under- stand him. “ It is folly you speak,”she replied. “I know the laws of the Franks, and they will kill me. It is 'ust, for I failed, and the goddes has pun- ish me for ride.” “ And yet say that if you will swear to tell the truth, you shall go free,” responded Charlton. “ I will swear nothing,” retorted the woman, sullenly. “ If you wish to kill me, do so. It is my fate.” hey were close to the bank now, and one of the troopers held out his long lance, which Charl- ton seized and drew himself to shore. To his great delight, the vicious but enduring Alborak was there, not much the worse for his buffeting by the storm, though the blood flowed from sev- eral cuts on his body. Charlton mounted and held out his hand to Luchmee. “ Come up in {rent this time,” he said. “ I wish to be sure 0 you.” Silently and sullenly the 'rl obeyed; the troo rs staring at her with ifil—concealed won- der, ut saying nothin . Then Charlton set 05 to return to Jag'pore, a sadder and wiser man than when he eft Sir Douglas McGregor that morning, his 11me dripping wet and in tatters, his body bruised an cut in more than one place, but carrying on his saddle-bow the renowned Luchmee, Queen of the Nautch-girls, with the reputation of be- ing‘ the wickedest woman in India. he sun was already low in the sky as they rode along the top of the ravine into the old Be- nares roa , and they could see with reat dis- tinctness the place where the storm ha arrested the fire. The flames had not burned more than three-quarters of an hour, but in that short space of time they had destroyed several square miles of forest till a black line against the green- ish brown of the distant jungle showed where t e storm-king had beaten down the fire-king. hey had no difficulty in riding over ground lately covered with impenetrable jungle. The fire had made a clean sweep of grass and bushes, and only the tree trunks, black and charred, stood like grim sentries watching over the deso- lation. Into the Benares road Charlton and his escort trotted, and set out on their return to Jagpore, as the sun set. Inside of ten minutes thereafter it was dark. for the moon had not risen the stars were hidden by driving clouds, an the eastern twilight is always of the briefest dura— tion. Charlton ke t a firm on the waist of Luchmee, for 0 well knew that the dancing girls of India are uliarly supple and strong, and he did not wis to have his prey escape him a second time. However the girl made no attempt to free bazars, he met the men of his own patrol, who . highness, and came near being killed. tain point, Charlton laughed and o yed the mandate to take some chain gne. It was hand- ed to him by one of the Prince’s female slaves: for that evening, except the courtiers, there seemed to be no men visible. As the American set d0wn his glass, he observed: “ I was out in the fire and storm myseif, your lost a “Oh, ve well,” said the Rajah, lazily. “ Call them in.” ‘ He evidently did not expect much, for the l general run of Indian dancing-girls execute the same maneuvers over and over again, so as to weary the s ctator who has seen them more than once. i ow and then, however, an excep- tion ap rs, who becomes the rage in a town or provmce, demanding and receiving as much as 81X hundred dollars a night for her perform- ances, and being tted and feted like our own queens of the bal et. Of such, as Charlton has often heard, was Luchmee, who had obtained the name of “Queen of the Nautoh-girls,” and it was with some curiosity that he now awaited her appearance. He knew that she would prob- ably excite great Jealousy among the Rajah’s dancmg-girls, an wondered whether they }would consent to play for and otherwise help er. He clapped his hands. the signal agreed on be- tween him and Luchmee, and immediately the room in front of them was cleared of peo le, while the Rajah’s slaves stretched a great wEite cloth over the floor to make a perfect back- ground for the dancer’s figure. Then entered ve girls. dressed in the most gor eous gar- ments. Three of them were the muSicians, and two bore long torches of some resinous wood, soaked in saltpeter, which bumed with a very brilliant flame and emitted a strong aromatic odor. The torch-bearers took their places in silence at either side of the stage, while the musicians sat down and began to play a soft melancholy air on a lute, accompanied by two tambourines. The effect of this odd mus1c was quite soothing, for the tambourines made a sort of dull murmuring bass to the tinkling of the lute, while the three girls sung in low, cooing voices one of the son of the Nautch-girls. The Rajah yawne : he had heard that sort of thing often. Still the song went on for more than a minute, and no Luchmee made her a pearance. The great white saloon with its bril— NOISELESSLY LUCHMEE GLIDED FORWARD TO THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM AND STOOD SWAYING HER ARMS ABOVE HER HEAD. greeted him with a respectful salaam as he passed on to the palace gate. I Everything was alive there, for the Rajah had a habit of turning night into day, not uncom- mon in tyrants of all countries. _ Charlton dismimed his escort and went to his own quarters, followed submissively by Luch- mee. Many were the stares and winks they en- countered on their passage, but these were all made behind Charlton’s back, for the Major Sahib was regarded with great awe in the palace. Once in his own quarters, he called his htt- muggar or steward, a necessity in all Eastern households, and gave Luchmee in charge to him. The Hindoo expressed no surprise at the pre- sence of an exceedingly beauti ul woman With 'ewels worth a rajah’s ransom; but smiled when is master told him to bring forth a dress fit for a Nautch-girl. , . “The Sahib knows that none but the Rajah keeps Nautch-girls,” he answered. “I can bor- row a dress from the mother of the dancers,* but only as a favor to the Sahib.” . “ Don’t, then,” said Charlton, briefly; and then, as the man left the room, he turned to Luchmee, who stood with downcast eyes and hands folded on her bosom, the picture of mod— est resignation. I “They tell me you are the best dancer in In- dia,” he said. “ I am going to make you dance before the Rajah, and want you to observe all the courtiers and tell me if you know any of them to be Thugs. Can you do it?” Luchmee looked up and smiled. “I willdo an hing for you,” she answered, softly. “You ave given me my life tWice, when you might have taken it, and even I can * The Nautoh-girls, or Bayadéres of India, are a regular caste and divided into troo of a dozen or so under an old woman called the hya, or Mother. of the Dancers, who makes all contracts for them like the leader of aband. The girls are of two kinds: lst, Temple Bayadéres, who are attached to the temples and execute the sacred dances as an act of religion; and 2d, free Nautch-girls, who roam the country or remain in the cities where they have a reputation. The most beautiful and accom lished like the once renowned Nikee of Delhi and A flna of Allahabad, are entirely free and ay their own mu- sicians. Luchmee belonged to t 3 small but favor- ed class. " man out of my escort, seriously hurt, but just able to ride into the city.” “ Let ’em go. Mens plenty,” hiccuped the august ruler of Jagpore. “ omen’s plenty, too,” he added, with a drunken leer. “Hear you icked one up.” “ he told your highness?” demanded Charl- ton, sharply. “ Who criticises my actions here?” He had determined, since his visit to Sir Douglas, to try and provnke the Rajah into a quarrel, that he might find a pretext to throw up his position and goto the Nawaub of Bundel- cund: but the Rajah seemed to beunusually good-natured that ni ht. “It was Khoda han,” he answered; “old Khoda, that ass, Khoda. Nobody minds him, you know. Here he is to speak for himself. Eh, Khoda?” He had relapsed into Hindoostanee, and Charlton fixed his eyes on the vizier menacing- l yKhoda Khan cringed, bowed, smiled, and rub- bed his hands, as he advanced obsequiously to the American. “ I am sure I meant nothing,” he began. “One of my men told me that he saw the Major Sahib enter the palace, followed by a woman unvail— ed, wearing many jewels; and I supposed that the Sahib was falling into our little ways at last.” He leered at Charlton with his evil eyes in a manner full of wicked significance, and the sol- dier felt his cheek flaming as he thought of the inte retation put on his conduct. As for the Raja , he roared with laughter, and cried out: ‘ The Major Sahib is like the rest of us. Who is she major?” “ e woman I brought to the palace is a Nautch-girl, to dance before {fur highness,” re— sponded Charlton, stifliy. “ you will see her, you will agree that I have done well for you.” The Rajah yawned. _ “Bnppery b0 ! Is that all? I am tired of Nautch-girls. he must beout of the common to please me.” “ She is out of the common,” answered Charl- ton. “ If your highness will give the signal, you shall see.’ ' The Rajah probably meant “ How are you?" liant Ii hts stretched out before them, opening on the road stone—paved veranda that led into the garden, where the moon was just risin , red and angry looking, between the marble p' — lars. For an unusual time the singers ke t on with their plaintive ballad, which told of t e sorrows of a girl abandoned b her lover; and then, just as the Rajah yuume the third time, the music changed to a live] air, and Luchmee lided in- to sight as noise essl as a spirit, an stood at the end of the room; acin her audience roud- ly and defiantly, as if ch enging their a mira- tion. The Rajah stode yawning and stared, while a dead silence fe l on the room. As for Charl— ton, he sat wonder-stricken, for Luchmee, if she had been beautiful before, was now positively bewitching. The Queen of the Nautch-girls was literally blazing with jewels, and the light of the torches held by the girls flashed on a diamond or em- erald at every motion of her body. From the hi )5 to the ankles she was covered with heavy skirts and full trowsers of cloth of gold, but her feet were bare, save that every toe was orna- mented with a broad gold ring, set with diamonds, while heavy gold bangles, furnished with bells, decorated her ankles. Her bust was partially revealed by a little sleeveless jacket, glittering with jewels, while arms, neck and bosom were covered with ornaments, and her earrings and nose ring were of thin old wire, strung with pearls and diamonds. uchmee’s long black hair. twined with strings of pearls, hung down her back, and she held in her anda rose. There she stood, silent as a spirit, one foot slightly advanced, a proud smile on her lips, as she looked at the court assembled to criticise her. Her whole attitude seemed to sadv: “ Here I am. Refuse to applau if you dare.” The Rajah clapped his hands vigorously, and shouted: “Bravo! Bravo! Major Sahib, this is differ- ent to the rest.” Then all were silent, for Luchmee began her dance. It was not like the ballet of Euro e. for the Nautch-girls never lift their feet fair y from the floor, except to mark the musical time with their bells. Noiselessly the irl glided forward to the middle of the room and stood swaying her arms above her head, with the rose waving in figures in time to the music; and then began a Siggular dance, slowly turning roundz while b. y and arms undulated with a se ntine mo- tion full of grace into all sorts of difficult curves. Now Luchmee began to show what she could do, for the dance seemed to be a pantomime of co- quetcil'y apldhenticemenlt. When she came for- war w1 er eyes g owin 1i s parted arms raised above her head, tripg’ing as light as a fairy, not a sound could be card but the tink— hng of the guitar, for her bare feet made no noise on the white carpet. She seemed to be flyin a kite, for her eyes were fixed on the air and s e moved her arms as if balancing the toy above her, then suddenly stooped and ran back, with hands close to the ground, as if the kite were falling and she trying to save it. She was in fact executing the “kitedance,” the most- celebrated of the Bayadére’s ntomimes, and theaction was so vivid that harlton involun- tarily looked up, as if he expected to see the sky above his head. Then Luchmee tripped for- ward again and stood swaying her body back till her long hair swept the floor, her frame as smuous as that of asnake. Anon she sprung up to an attitude full of pride and seemed as if about to follow the kite, floating away across the room with arms extended like wings. Charl- ton had seen the kite-dance many times before, but never executed with such bewitching grace as that shown b Luchmee; and he was not su rised to find t at the Ra ‘ah was delighted. e great man sat with is eyes riveted on the swaying figure, and his features worked in a way that showed him to be completely en- tranced, till the dance was nearly over. Charl- ton in his own interest and excitement had al- most for otteii the object he had in view in bringing uchmee to the palace till this hap- pened, and then the Queen of the Nautch-girls glided forward near the circle, flirtin the rose which she had made do duty in the kite panto- mime, as if she were hesitating to whom to throw it. Then Charlton remembered, and lanced keenly round at his companions to watc their behavior; for he felt sure that the rose would be thrown to Khoda Khan. To his surprise, how- ever, Luchmee paid no attention to the vizier, but dropped the flower at the feet of the Rajah himself, and then turned and flitted away from the room. Charlton started and rose from his seat, for the fat Rajah, intoxicated with delight, rose up applauding vigorously, but lost his balance in the effort and measured his length on the white carpet, where he rolled about, unable to rise. The American, rofiting by the confusion that ensued, slipped mm the saloon by a side-door and thence into the moonlit garden into which Luchmee had vanished. He had not gone ten steps when he met Go- vinda, the tiger-tamer, face to face. CHAPTER XIII. THE ZENANA GARDEN. CHARLTON was running lieedlessly through the garden when Govinda sudden] appeared before him, and he started back with an invol- untary exclamation of wonder when he saw the tall figure of the tiger-tamer. In a moment Govinda’s right hand was on his shoulder, while the finger of the other was laid on his lips as a sign of caution which the soldier readily under- tood s . Govinda inted through the shrubbery before them into t e brilliantly 1i hted saloon. The obse uious Khoda lghan, assisted by the slaves, was ifting the Rajah from the floor and supporting him to his seat, but Luchmee had vanished. Then the tiger-tamer drew Charlton back into the dark recesses of the garden, till the were entirely out of earshot of the palace, an whispered: “ Have you seen the child?” “ What child?” asked Charlton in amazement, for he knew nothing of the other’s loss. “ Ali,” said the tamer, in a trembling voice: “my little one, my boy! He is in this palace somewhere, for I tracked his captors to the ate.” g “Ihave not seen him,” answered Charlton. “ I have but just come in since the fire and the storm. Tell me how you ost him.” Thus urged, the tamer, in a few hurried sen- tences, gave the soldier an outline of the cap- ture of Ali and the scenting of the child by the tigress, and continued: “ I followed them to the edge of the burned jungle and found that two men had carried him off straight down the road to the palace gate. He has been taken by the same gang of Thugs which had Luchmee for their queen, and they belong here, in this accursed house.” “ Did you watch Luchmee just now?” asked Charlton. “ If the Thugs brought the child hither, she knows of his iding-place, and can help us better than any one else to get him back if he be here.” . Govinda uttered an impatient sound of dis— sent. “She help us! She is more likely to snare us, like a Witch as she is. Will you never learn that she is not to be trusted, no matter what she says or does?” “On the contra ,” answered Charlton, rath- er warmly, “ sherhas proved faitth to me since I gave her back her life. She has prom- ised to tell me the names of her accomplices.” “ It is needless; I know them myself, for I hid behind their tent, only the hi ht before last, when they held their feast to alee,” respond- ed Grovinda’s stern tones. “ I can give you the names of every one of them, whenever you want them.” “ \Vill you tell them to Sir Douglas?” asked Charlton, eag‘erly. “He told me he wanted to see '011, by t e by.” The tiger-tamer started in his turn. “ To see me! Sir Douglas McGregor! Why?” “Nay, that I know not. He sent for me to inquire about you, asked all sorts of uestiqns, and wished me to tell ou to come an see him. I forgot all about it til now.” . Govinda seemed to relapse into deep and bit- ter meditation, as he stood therein the moon- li ht. g“ To see me!” he muttered; “to see me, whom the once drove into—” . _ lib stopped abru ti and glanced suspicmusly at Charlton, as if lie had said too much before the American; and then, once more, he seemed to remember the loss of his child, for he broke out: “But what care I for these EilgliSthy child is gone, and the Rajah has him. Major Charl- ton, you helped me once—Will you help me again?” _ “ If I can, I will,” said the soldier, earnestly; “but I see not how I can. If Luchmee—” “ Luchmee is a witch, a sorceress, a devil,” interrupted Govinda, im atiently. “I tell you she cannot be trusted. 0 one can—ha! what‘s that?” He broke off as suddenly as he had interrupt- ed. All the time that he was talking, Charlton had noticed that his eyes were roaming over the garden, and that his thou hts seemed to be away. Now he stopped an listened intently. Charlton followed his example, but could hear nothing. Nevertheless Govinda slowly turned round his face toward a thicket of bushes that stood behind them, and scanned it keenly with his eyes, as if he expected to find something. Presently he crouched down to the earth, al- .. _- i i,_“ fir-e; as was "rm-gm”: . Mi 1. is «I... .W" fisrrafiesrwiwmwma . .. .,_-.-_-..‘..i .o -~':-.»« .~ ‘4’ .._-.,._._ r r.:{ . .. .a*-.>..,_.,y; >«5I-rr. ' u 2.13: 38.: M l .3. “" ..-.- «Mr->4» 1r I . ._,.. a... .. -........ a r”.- L,,_.,-..‘.; . 0—“. a»..- < __....._._.. ‘15:- ,. 4‘5’2‘”? “a . . “ .-. Ada-g... . v . a- .::._.. I‘v.:‘ A. _ 2C. -5 ‘..I‘.. '--«—- ..... .mw ..... .. ... l i 2 h! l -4... .—-._.u.. , ‘. ..... . ‘ fit...“ dirg. 5 a." w‘m'»~‘fi"0fim run-"m.— ~ 5) 18 >7. 9 u . c 1 '7 s 3:3 1.} most in the attitude of one of his own tigers, and crept into the thicket. Charlton hardly realized what he was doing ere the athletic figure was hidden under the overhangin foli- age. and Govinda had disappeared, as. su denly and noiselessly as he had come leavnig Char - ton apparently alone in the gar en. Then, for the first time, the American began to realize that he might be in a delicate position himself. In the confusion that attended the Rajah’s accident, and in his own anxrety to find Luchmee, he had run out into the garden, forgetting that this part of the alace-grounds was sacred to the zenana of t ie Rajah. In other words, he was in the women’s quarter of the palace, and liable any moment to meet one of the Rajah’s zenana guards, armed With swords just as sharp as razors, and instructed to kill on sight any man they found in the grounds of the zenana. Govinda had taken him into a remote part of the garden, where thickets of the thorny Indian fig and acacia were dense and shadowy. Charl- ton had never been there before, there were no walks to ide him over the turf, and the bushes were so high that he could not see the palace. Striving to remember its direction, he stole through between the thickets as Silently as he could, glancin round aipprehensivtfly and keep- ing the hilt of is swor read * to his hand. Presently the sharp line 0 the summit of a wall loomed 11 before him between the trees, and he knew e had come to the edge of the garden. “ It will do for a point of deeparture," he mut- tered: “ for if I don’t meet any women, I can cliuib over into the city at the very worst.” He knew that the wall before him was the same which surrounded the fortress—palace of the Rajah, and that, once outside, he could only meet his own patrols. The soldier paused in the shadow of the wall, listened and looked round. All was silent, but he saw something moving among the bushes, and a moment later the graceful figure of Luch- mee glided out beside him, and stood smiling archlv at him. " W'ell, Sahib," asked the girl, “are you not afraid the guards will take you and cut you to pieces?” " Not while you are here,” responded Charl- ton gravely. “ I have given you your life and you cannot imperil mine without being false to your oath.” Luchmee laughed in low rich tones, and press- ed closer to him. " I would not have you hurt for all 'my life,” she said sweetly. “ I told you I was your slave, and I am.” “ Tell me then,” replied Charlton, “whether you have seen in the zenana a little boy, the son of Govinda. He was stolen from his father to- day, and Govinda thinks he is here.” . “He is here,” responded Luchmee, quietly; " but Govinda will never get him." “ I want him," said Charlton, firmly).o “ You promised to serve me: take me to the y.” Luchmee smiled in a dubious manner. " He is in the midst of the zenana, with armed slaves all round him. You could not make three steps within the door without being cut to pieces.” “ Well, then, tell me where he is kept and who has him,” persisted the soldier. “ He is kept in the room of the Dhya. the Mother of the Dancers, and the say he is to be taught to layon the lute an sing with the dancers. "Fis a pretty child and sings well.” As she spoke Luchmee turned away and stood listean a moment, when she suddenly pulled him, whispering: “The zenana guard is coming. They must have missed on from the saloon. I will hide you, if you Will trust me.” “I would sooner trust myself and my own guard,” he re lied. “ I trust no one here since you have to d me that the Rajah himself is in league with the Thugs. Good-by.” As he s ke, he caught hold of the branch of a tree an swung himself up to the top of the wall. As he paused there a moment, the gleam of torches through the foliage admonished him that the guards were approaching, and silently he dropped into the dry moat outside. Meantime Luchmee stood in the den watching his exit and looking vexed. icked and wily as she was, there had been something in the generosit and for iveness of the young Soldier that ha touched uchmee’s heart that day, and the Wickedest woman in India was for the time as anxious for the safety of Charlton as a young girl for her first lover. As she stood there, the zenana guards, black hideous slaves with naked swords in their hands, came searching through the garden, and Luch- mee shrunk back into the bushes with the in- stinct of concealment. Hardly was she hidden, before she felt herself seized by a powerful hand which compressed her throat, and the next moment the Queen of the Nautch-girls was borne to the earth by Govinda the tiger-tamer, who had been hidin under the bushes with all the patience an silence of one of his own animals. He remained kneeling beside her under the shade of the bushes, his ri ht hand com ressing her throat while he glareg menaciu 1y ( own at her: and again, as when she lay )eneath the tiger. Luchmee quailcd and was silent. The garden patrol came by, the slaves chattering away. and passed within ten feet of the thicket where they lay concealed, but the Nautch—girl . did not dare to open her lips while Govinda’s eyes were on her. She felt that her deliverance was passing away as the guard vanished, but she did not dare to move, and there she lay till they had gone out of sight and hearing. Then Govinda loosened his asp ani said in low, stern tones: " Rise, an take me to Ali." Trembling from head to foot, the girl rose and whispered: “ Yes, my lord, yes, oh Rajah of Rajahs! I will take you there at once.” " Not so fast,” res nded the tamer, quietly. "I don’t want to be 'lled before my time. De- scribe me the spot. and I will put you where you will be safe, with Seevah to guard you, till come.” Luchmee sunk on her knees in fresh terror. “Not with the tiger, mv lord, not with the tiger! Spare me (hut. and I will swear to be true: ay, on the holy ax of the Goddess Kalee, who punishes rjury." Govinda loo ed down at her keenly. " Did you and your comrades think you were unseen when you sacrificed!” he demanded in soornful tones. “ Fools, ye thou ht the omens were good when the tigers roared eft and right, but ye forget to look in the grass behind the tent. I tell you, Kalee is angry, and you will have no luck against me or the Major Sahib.” Luchmee stared at him with dilating eyes, all the latent superstition of her nature alarmed at the news he gave her and completely overcome with terror.* “Rise,” continued the tameer, imperiously; and lead me to the place you told the Major Sahib about." Luchmee obeyed as if stupefied with terror. and took him through the garden towhere the woman’s win of the palace spread before them. Then. from t e shelter of a thicket, the girl inted out to him the open windows of a long, ow room, extending from the main building and surrounded by a veranda. This room was * To be seen while sacrificing to Kalee is. according to the superstition of the Thugs, to be doomed to disaster and failure in the coming expedi- but very dimly lighted, and its floor was cover- ed with sleeping gures. “There is the child,” whispered Luchmee, inting to a group in the center of the room. ‘ The Dhya has h in there, and there are four slaves ready to spring up armed at the first sound.” “ Very ood,” he responded. “ Go in there and brin im out for me. You can do it with- out exciting sus icion.” Luchmee s a 'hast at the proposition. “ 1, great lord! hy, they won (1 kill me as soon as you, for I am a stranger among them.” “ Nevertheless," answered the tamer, with a smile, “ I wish you to go in. If you pre- er me to go, I 101' I leave you in charge 0 f Sewah I” As he spoke, he snapped his fingers, and Luch- mee quivered all over as she distinguished for the first time the brilliant markings of the tigreSs, crawling like a snake over the turf close beside them, the great eyes of the creature glowing like coals in the darkness. “I will go, great lord, I will go,” she faltered; and at once stole awa * toward the room of the dancers, while Govin and the tigress watched from outside. [To BE comrNUnn—couunsonn 1N No. 1.] Doubling Cape Horn. FROM A SAILOR’S LOG-BOOK. ABOUT midnight, when the starboard watch, to which I belonged, was below, the boatswain’s whistle was heard, followed by the shrill cry of “ All hands take in sail! Jump, men, and save slii i!” Springing from our hammocks, we found the fri rate leaning over so steeply that it was with di culty we could climb the ladders leading to the upper deck. Here the scene was awful. The main deck guns had several days previous- ly been run in and housed, and the port—holes closed; but the lee carronades on the uarter- deck and forecastle plunged through t e sea, which undulated over them in milk-White bil- lows of foam. W'ith every lurch to leeward the yard-arm ends seemed to dip in the sea, while forward the spray dashed over the bows in cata- racts and drenched the men who were on the foreyard. . . By this time the deck was ahve With the whole strength of the ship‘s company five hundred men, officers and all mostly to the weather bulwarks. The occasio p osphor- escence of of the yeasty sea cast a g are upon their uplifted faces, asa night fire in a popu- lous city lights 11 the panic-stricken crow . (1 en gafe In a su or when a large quantity of sail is suddenly to furled, it is customary for the First Lieutenant to take the trumpet from whoever then happens to be officer of the deck. But Mad Jack, the Second Lieutenant, had the trumpet that watch, nor did the First Lieuten- ant now seek to wrest it from hishands. Every eye. was upon him, as if we had chosen him from among us all to decide this battle with the ele- ments by single combat with the Spirit of the Cape—for Mad Jack was the saving genius of the shi , and so proved himself that night. I owe this right hand that is this moment fl ing over my sheet, and all my present being, to a Jack. The ship’s bows were now butting battering, ramming and thundering over and upon the head-seas, and with a terrible wallowin sound our whole hull was ro in the troug of the foam. The gale came wart the deck, and eve sail seemed bursting with its wide breadth. All t e quartermasters and several of the fore- castle men were swarming around the double wheel on the quarter-deck, some jam ing up and down with their hands upon the spo ; for the whole helm and vanized keel _were fiercely feverish with the e imparted to them by the tempest. It blew a hurricane. The flow over the ship in floods. The ' ntic mam seemed about to snap under the wor d—wide strain of the three entire topsails. ' “ Clew down! clew down!” shouted Mad Jack, husky with excitement, and in a hazy beating his trumpet against one of the shrou ; but ow- ing to the slant of the ship the thing could not be done. It was obvious that before many min- utes something must go—either sails rigging or sticks; perhaps the hull itself, and all hands. Presently a voice from the top exclaimed that there was a rent in the main-topsail, and instant- 1y we heard a re rt like two or three muskets discharged to at er: the vast sail was rent up and down. his saved the mainmast, for the yard was now clewed down with comparative ease, and the to men laid out to stow the shat- tered canvas. oon the two remainineg topsails were also clewed down and close-reef . Above all the roar of the tempest and the shouts of the crew was heard the dismal tolling of the ship's bell (almost as large as that of a village church), which the violent rolling of the ship was occasioning. Imagination cannot con- ceive the terror of such a sound in the night tem st at sea. “ ‘top that ghost!" roared Mad Jack; “ away, one of you. and wrench off the clapper.” But no sooner was this ghost gag than a still more appalling sound was hea —the roll- ing to and fro of the heavy shot, which, on the gun—deck. had broken loose from the gun—racks, and converted that part of the ship into an im— mense bowling-alley. Some ban s Were sent down to secure them, but it was as much as their lives were worth. Several were maimed, and the midshipmen who were ordered to see the duty performed reported it impossible until the storm abated. The most terrific job of all was to fur] the mainsail, which at the commencement of the 1 squalls had been clewed ugl. coaxa-d and quieted as much as possible with t lines. Mad Jack waited some time for a lull ere he ve an order so perilous to be executed; for to rl this enormous sail in such a gale required at least fifty men on the yard, whose weight. superadded to the. weight of the ponderous stick itself, still further jeopardized their lives. But there was no prospect of a cessation of the gale, and the order was at last given. At this time a hurricane of slanting sleet and Z hail was descending upon us: the rigging was coated with a thin glare of ice, formed within the hour. “Aloft, main-yard men, and all you main-top men. and furl the mainsail!” cried Mad Jack. I dashed down my hat. sli out of my guilted jacket in an instant, icked the shoes rom my feet, and, with a crowd of others, : o r the rigging. Above the bulwarks sprun g teare so high as to afford much (which in a fri protection to t ose on deck) the gale was ter- , The sheer force of the wind flattened us ‘ rible. to the rigging as we ascended. and every hand seemed congealed to the icy shroud.by which we 1 held. “Up, up, my brave hearties!” shouted Mad ' Jack; and up we got. some way or other, ‘ all of us, and groped our way out on the yard . rms. “ Hold on, every mother’s son!" cried an old uarter—gunner at my side: he was bawling at t e to of his compass; but in the gale he seem- ; £6 whis ed to his being rig t to windward of me. hint was unnecessary. ring, and I only heard him from But his should part me and them, until I was able to e buntlines and slab- ‘ grounds for the season of 1878, took 1 LS I dug in ' nails into the ‘= jack-stays, and swore that not ing but death , turn around and look to Windward. As et this was impossible; I could scarcely hear t e man to leeward at our elbow; the Wind seemed to snatch the words from his mouth and fly away with them to the South Pole. All this time the sail itself was flyin about, sometimes catching ( )VBI‘ our heads, and t reaterr ing to tear us from the yard in spite of all our hugging. For about three—quarters of an hour we thus hung suspended over the rampant billows, which curled their very crests under the feet of some four or five of us clinging to the lee yard- arm, as if to float us from our places. Present- ly the word flashed along the yard from wind— ward that we were ordered to come down and leave the sail to blow, since it could not be furl- ed. A midshipman, it seemed, had been sent up by an officer of the deck to give the order, as no trumpet could be heard where we were. Those on the weather yard-arm managed to crawl up- on the spar and scramble down the rigghfis; but with us, on the extreme leeward side, t feat was out of the question; it was, literally. like climbing a preci ice to get to the windward, in order to reach $18 shrouds; besides, the entire yard was now incased in ice and our hands and feet were so numb that we ed not trust our lives to them. Nevertheless, by assisting each other, we contriVed to throw ourselves prostrate alon the yard, and embrace it with our arms and egs. In this position, the stun’oail booms greatly assisted in securing our hold. Strange as it may appear, I do not suppose that, at this moment, the slightest sensation of fear was felt by one man on that yard. We clung to it with might and main; but this was instinct. The truth is, that in circumstances like these, the sense of fear is annihilated in the unutterable sights that fill all' the eye, and the sounds that fill the ear. You become identified with the tempest; your insignificance is lost in the riot of the stormy universe around. Below us our noble frigate seemed thrice its real len th —a vast black wedge, opposing its widest on to the combined fury of the sea and wind. At length the first fury of the gale began to abate, and we at once fell to pounding our hands, as a preliminary operation to gom to work, for a gang of men had now ascend to help secure what was left of the sail. We some- how packed it away at last, and came down. About noon the next day the gale so mod- erated that we shook two reefs out of the top- sails, set new courses and stood due east, with the wind astern. EDITED BY HENRY CHADWICK. Base-Ball Notes. SEVERAL uestions in relation to the event on the cricket— eld accomplished b the base-ball tourists who visited England in 874, leads us to print the record, in brief, of the matches at cricket layed by the e teen baseball-players againstgilnglish cricket elves in England and Ireland, during the summer of 1876. ‘ E e =~ - ' ( :1 an as , o oo , , g g B gas BB — r « r-—#——~——~-—-w:‘ n 1 , i a '8; 8 §38 8: g . Ii IYW" - "—1 i a Z a gas as g 3 . a , ° 2 s: an er: s ! ,_, H-44_. i ; o ~ ..g Mm: .(g ‘ g . “ " ‘77“‘““*“ s g 3 3 335 g: g i 5 <1 . ""“‘ "“ —‘”“‘é e: ,3 sassssslsggg i a .: I . . :I . . . ; 08 E o: :5 :' a: : 2 "‘ z .sa as: s5 g I a: , 5'20 415m. :5 ' : 8°. , Z_ and Zen 1 l E “confine. :..':* r m' ==z : was 2c : =- 2 $323.5? 53:52; B ' 9% 2 lists" 01:32: » I 5 a a:::ggEE=lr-‘ I .— .-. dfigfpo 032— . r :5, 3 20 “2855432 3 5:... 3.3 a : 2 :3: : 2 32 v- s as h- .5 s 6‘ ass s g i5 gt a a you 9. E" , Di 3 = :3: l {+— < 4 < <44 <2 ‘1 Not a match was lost and those drawn were in . favor of the baseball-players. The eighteen Blayers included McVey, Spalding, O’Rourke, f arnes, Leonard, Geo. “ right. Geo. Hall. Harrv . “'right and Beals of the Boston club; and! Clapp, McBride. Anson, Murnan. Sutton, Mc- : Gearv, Gedney. McMullen and Sensenderfer of the Athletics, with Battin fisher and Shafer : he following is the l score of the best base-ball match ever played in I and Kent as assistants England. PLAYED AT MANCHESTER AUG. 20. Ammo. Bosrox. a.ro.s.rr i a. no.1. McMullen, c. f.. . .1 4 0 0 G. “'right. 5. s. .0 0 4 McGeary. r. f. &c.0 2 0 1 Barnes, 2d b 0 4 2 Anson, lst b. .1 10 0 0 giaalding, p. .. 0 0 3 McBride, p . . . . . . .2 0 1 0 cVey c . 0 6 2 Clapp,c .. 0 500 Imnanl.l.f 0 1 0 Sensenderfer, r.f.0 1 0 0 O’Rourke, lst b0 10 0 Battin. 2d b _ . . . ..1 121|H.Wright,c.f 0 2 1 Sutton,3dh . . . . ..1 080 Hall,r.f ....1 1 0 Muman, r.f.& s.s.0 1 0 0| Schafer.3d b. . . .1 3 3 Gedney.l.f.....1300 __._ -——--‘ Totals .22715 Totals....... 7 2752 amines. , l 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Athletic.... 2 010 2 0 O 7 Boston .. ..0 01010 0 0 0—2 Runs earned —Bost on, 2. First base by errors—Athletic 5; Boston, 0. Umpire—T. G. Beals, of the Boston Club. Time—One hour and forty minutes. THE last game played on the Capitoline ' lace Nov. 1 , Thanksgiving Day, the score being as fol- O‘VS: W. A. DROWN h C0. JOHNSON BROTHERS & CO. 11.13.90. A. I. a. ls.r.o. A.l. Slade.c......5 4 2 2 1 Steeb,c.....12 4 1 0 Randel,1p ..1 2 4 ‘i 1 Taylor,3db3 2 3 4 2 Sexton, stb.4 3 2 o a V‘nZuilen,1b1 1 5 o 3 Folmer,2db.0 1 5 2 0 Gaul.s.s....3 1 3 5 0 iRuss.s.s....5 3 3 4 1 Mallison,2b.1 0 5 2 0 Goodwin, 3b.3 2 3 2 4 Temple,p ..2 1 2 2 2 McCorm’kcf‘d 1 4 0 0 Barber,l.f..1 0 2 0 1 lSullivan,l.f.O 1 4 0 Da 'ton,r.f.0 1 1 0 3 ——————— Neson,c.f.0 0 2 0 1 Totals 2117271310 ——__._ Totals...12 8271412 scorn: Ir ixwmos. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 W.A.Drown&Co 1 4 0 5 3 0 0 3—22 JohnsonBros.&Co.....1 3 l 3 l 2 1 0 0—12 AN mrom‘ax'r Daemon—The ball—maker. L. H. Mahn, recently sued H. Harwood & Sons. the Natick base—ball manufacturers. for an inf rin - ment of the former‘s double cover patent. 0 following abstract from the judge’s decision in EDI F‘h‘CMHMOH-‘H 3 place on October 22d and 1838. This was played for a stake of $400, the only match the case shows that the right to make these double cover balls is not patentable. followe: Lorus H. Mann 0:. Hanmsox Hsawoon el (IL—This suit was brought for an alleged infringement of James H. Osgood‘s nt on Irri roved Coverings for Base-balls and ot or articles. he claims make no mention of other articles besides base-balls. The 0 inion of the court holds that balls made substan- tally as set forth in the patent were old and well known long before 1872 (the date of patent), and that the double covers used by the de endant were so used many years before the date of said patent, and that such use waa well known to the complainant. Bill dismissed, with costs. ACCORDING to league and International sta- tistics, the following players are the first nines , of each organization in fielding and batting averages: rimmo. INTERNATIONAL. Luann. Player. Club. Ave. Player. Club. Are. C.....Sullivan....Low.. .865 n...Prov. . P.....Galvin . . . . . ..Buff.. .914 Bond.....Bos.. . 1stB.Libb .. .978 Sullivan..Cin.... 2dB .Haw es.....Man.. .935 Burdock..Bos.. 3d B Doscher Tec. .. .874 Hague... Prov. 8.8 Force . . . . . W ght..Bos.. L. F..Homung. . ..Tec... .956 Jones ....Cin... C. F..Richardson.Utica. .884 Remsen..Chic.. R. F. McGonigle ..Bufl.. .888 Kelley.. . .Cin... BATTING . 21252215 §§§§§§§§§ C... Dorgan. ....Star .321 J. White.Cin... P. . . ..Foley . . . w.. .311 Larkin. . .Chic.. 1st B.McGuinncss.Utica. .291 Start Chic. 2d B .Dunlap ..Hor. .. .279 Gerhardt.Cin... 3d B Ca ntcr . . Star. .285 McVey .. Chic. 8. S. .Bur e . . . . . . Toe... .30? FergusonChic.. . L. F. O‘Rourke . ..Man.. .376 York .. .Prov. .310 C. F. . Hotaling Star. . .315 Hines. . . . .Prov. .347 R.F.Mack........Buff.. .23) Higham..Prov. .Sfi) To suppose that these would be the best teams, either on account of their special fielding or batr ting skill, to place in the field, would be a great mistake. Fancy Allison and Bond playing as a 'r. or J im “'hite and “ Terry ” Larkin, or EVey and Ferguson. Harmony or working together is as essential as high batting or field- ing averages. AMONG the junior ball-players who rac- ticed on the Elysian Fields ball-grounds, obo- ken, during the summer of 1878 were two nines known as the Jefferson and Hudson Clubs of Hoboken, and on the morning of Aug. 19 these teams of youn amateurs layed the most re- markable mate ever reco ed in the metropoli- tan district, no less than fourteen innings being played on each side without a single run being scored, the first and only run bein made in the fifteenth inning. The score of this match is as follows: Jun-mos. R In ro. 1.x. Henson. B.18.P0.A.E. Whitoomb,p0 1 4 20 Nelson, lst b.0 117 10 Taylor,c.....0 2 710 Reed, . . . . . ..0 2 6 31 art,1stb. 0 01811811tton,c....01311 Noble,s.s 0 i 4 21 S ncer.l.f..0 2 2 10 Bteedmamif151130 en,r.f .0141] 80ldm,8d.b0 o 3 21 5.3.0 2 2 00 Smith,r.f £1110 Fil rt,c.f..016 01 Hadley,ldl 0 0 11 Stover.2db..0 0 3 10 Nquaf..o i 2 011.1bby,8db..012 00 Total!“ 113 45 144 Totals. 01145 84 Jeflerson.000000000000001—1 Hudson ....000000000000000~—0 Tn: playing members of the new club form- igfiat banv for next season will consist of the f owing well—known professionals: Allison, c.; ; McKinnon, lst b. ' Smiley, 2d b. ; Scha- fer, b.: Leonard, s.s.: , l. f.; Mur- nan, e. f.; Knight, r. f., with H ure as tenth man and chan catcher. Allison, Cary and Human were With the Providence Club last sea- son, McKinnon and McClure with the Stars, Sclnfer, Leonard and Manning with the Boo tons, Smiley with the Worcesters, and Knight with the Lowells. Arthur ' well man- aged the team. TH! first cricket match in America which we witnessed was that played in Brooklyn thirty v ears last So mber. the la era {as H‘sDodworfiftho famvely lg - worth, the band-master of New York. The match in tanimation was playedon September 20, 1838, on e vacant lots on Smith and Bergen streets, then an open coun . The match was played by twenty-two Eng ' mg tively the towns of Shefiiel ,in the north 0 England, and Nottingham, in the mid- land counties. The former t0wn isnoted for its cricketers, as it is for its CHUCK; in fact, it is second to none in the world for quantity and quality of its cricketers, turning out, periodi- cally, some of the best players in England. Sans-ram) vs. Norr'r'rnonsir. played at Brook- lyn, Long Island, September 20, 1838. SHEFFIELD. First Innings. Second Innings. 1. J. Wheatrnan c Parker... . . 12 c Wyvil . . . . .. 3’5 2. Dodworth c Sneath . . . . . . . .. 5 b Hurst. ..... 0 8. GifibHurst . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 6 bHurst . . . . .. 14 4. G. Stead b Taylor . . . . . . . . . . 4 run out . . . . . . 7 5.FlsherbTaylor 4 not out . . . . . .. 8 6.BradshawcTurton. 8 bHurst...... 1 7. Berrch'vil......... ....24 cSneath..... 7 8. Taylorh urst......... 0 runout. 12 9. Ellen c Wyvil . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 6 b Turton. . . . _ 0 10. Pearson not out . , . . . . . . . . . . 2 b Turton. . . . . 0 11. Holmes run out . . . . . . . . . .. 5 b Turton. . . .. 2 Wides, 1; byes, 2 . . . . . . . . . . . 3 Byes . . . . . . . _ . . 2 Total.. Total fii NOTTINGHAM. Fm! Innings. Second Innings. 1. Taylor run out . . . . . . . 1 b Wheatman. 0 2. W. Wyvil run out . . . . . . . .. 3 c Ta lor . . . . .. 10 . 3.ParkerbGill 2 bIV eatman. 1 4. AIV$ c Gill. . . . . . . . . . . 8 not out . . . . . . . 0 5. H. il c Wheatman. . . . . 3 run out . . . . .. 1 6 Snea runout .. 1 cGill . . . . . . . .. 7. Shelton st Dodworth . . . 0 c Dodworth 0 8.Turtoanill.. 3 c ill. . . . . ..10 9. Hurst cStead . . . . .. 0 cStead. 0 10. Beecroft c Stead . . . . . . . . . . . . 0 c Bradshaw. 0 11. Dent not out . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 0 b Stead . . . . . .. 1 Total . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..21 Total.....23 errass—Sheffield, Mr. Lacey; James Rayner. Seesaw—Sheffield, Mr. Weedon; Notting' ham, Mr. Nottingham, Mr. ‘ Hadkins. The second match was layed at the same game for money ever played in this country. The fathers 0 many of our young Brooklyn cricketers will probably remember this inc, as it was ite a novelty at that time to the town’s resi ents. Lacrosse. Tn: first Lacrosse match ever seen at Baltimore took place Nov. 23, at Newin n Park. The Mayor of Baltimore, Hon. F. C. trohe, and Mr. James son were the urn ires at the red flags, Mr. C. . Pennington at t e blues, and William Young as referee. At 3 P. M. the me com- menced, and for about one hour t e contest waged with vigor. until victory Itisas' 5 Voss was frequent] on re resent- s rested with the ' ‘ tain Pennington was highly pleased with the success which his team met with. The play- ing of Messrs. Lee, Harrison, Comstock, and applauded by the specta- tors. To each mem r of the victorious crew a scarf-pin of the lacrosie will be given. THE Laerosse junior players of Brooklyn should make a point to keep us posted on their games and club movements. Send in your re fits to “ Sports and Pastimes ” Editor YOUNG 'nw Yoaxsa. TEE teams of the New York University and Westchester Lacrosse clubs played a match game at Central Park Thanksgiving Day, best three goals out of five to win. The University men were victorious in three straight goals, the time being 1m. 308. and 6111., res tively. tiV. H. Griflln, Mont Lacrosse clu , was re- eree. Football. WHAT football is under Rugby rules may be jud ed by the following description of the wor assigned to “ forward" players in a “ scrummage.” “The forwards of each side hurry up, and a scrummage is instantly formed each ten fac— in their opponents’ oal packed round the b l, shoulder to shoul er, leg to leg, as tight as they can stand, the twent thus orming one com ct mass with the in the middle. Di- rec y the holder of the ball has succeeded in forcing it down to the ground, he shouts, ‘ Down ’and business may be commenced at once. ch ten, bein bent on driving the ball through the ranks 0 their opponents, set to work to push, struggle and kick, forcing, if . possible, a passage through which the ball may i emer e. H “ or forwards, ood following up and play- ing together are. t e prime recommendations. Their dutyails to work together in a body be- hind the 1, taking it through the ranks of their 0 ponents in the scrumniages by weight and skiB combined. and following it up dogged- ly, not waiting for wind, but struggling on in s Me of all obstacles to keep close to the ball. be highest praise that can be conferred on a Rugby forward is conveyed in the words, few and simple, ‘ He’s always on the ball.’ For- wards should always remember how much the absence of even a single player is felt in a fif- teen-a-side match, when it comes to a tough struggle in front of goal, and a captain finds his men not up to time after the punishing work in the last scrumm .* * * A scrummage should beformed ascom ctlyas possible, every man pressin firmly on e man in front of him, bodies and egs close together, so asto form a finely-packed mass to resist the weight of a like mass of op nonts. Some players are given to putting their heads down in a serum , so as to look after the ball the better, but it is a plan not to be commended, as it loosens the mas, a man’with his head down taking up the space of two. ’ This is evidently a sport suitable only for men of the most muscular physique. The liability to serious injuries is very great. It may not be general y known that there are two distinct and diflerent es of football, the Rugby-U nion generally p ayed in this countrv, an which allows carrying and runnin with the ball, and the Association e w ch is reall football proper, and in w ich the players use eir feet and not their This latter game hastaken root in Ontario, and with a view of 'Wd teaching the public its been es, the Association are negotiat- ing with the Amociation in Scotland for an in- vasion by two teams of Scottish players who would visit Toronto, Hamilton, London, ton, Berlin, Montreal. Ottawa, Quebec, New York, Boston, Cambridge, Philadelplviia, Chica- go, Cincinnati New Haven, Ithaca, est Point, t. Louis, Bufialo, Detroit, Hartford, Saratoga, Newport, and other cities, playing in each lace an exhibition match, and also a game wi the local players, where. any could be found. We do not remember that any club in the United States plays the Amociation game, but if shown to our players by such experts the game might become popular. Tm: London Field of Nov. 16th contains six- teen columns of small type reports of English ( football matches, a perfect furore for the sport existing in England this season. The grand match for the College Champion- shi took place on the St. George Cricket ground Ho ken on Thanksgiving Day. in the presence of an assemblage 0 about 3.000 people chiefly College Students and their friends. Carriages with liveried servants were in line behind the tators, and “ the wealth and fashion of the City" turned out to see the grand wrestling match—termed football—between stalwart mus- cular fifteens of Yale and Princeton. Yale had previously defeated Harvard by one goal in a match at Boston, and Princeton had won their game with Harvard by a solitary touchdown, so that it remained with Yale and Princeton to settle the question of the championship. The contestants were as follows: PRINCETON—Forwards—Bradford. ’81; Mc— Dermont, ‘81; Brotherlin, ‘80: Ballard (captain), 3 ‘80; Devereux. ’80; McAl in, ’81; Lonev ’81: Bryan, ’80. Half-backs— aller ’79; hiinor. ’79; McNair, ’79: \Vithington, 80. Backs— Miller, ’80: Cutts, ’80; Larkin, 79. YALE—Forwards—Farwell, ’79: Fuller, ’81: Hull, ’82: Harding, ’8): Lamb. ’el: King, ’80; Eaton, ’82. Half-backs—Brown, SS. 8.: Peters. ’80 Thom son, ’70; Watson, S. S. 8.: Camp (captain), . Backs—Wakeman, M. S.; Nixon. ’81; Badger ’12. William Dodwe, Jr., ’79, was judge for Princeton: G. H. Clark. ’80, for Yale, and Mr. L. N. Littauer, ’78 of Harvard, acted as referee. In the first innings all the advantage gained by either side was that Princeton was forced to touchdown for safety half a dooen times. In the second innings however Princeton secured a touchdown and on the place kick won the goal which decided the match. In 1876 Yale defeated Harvard 1 to 0, and Princeton 2 to 0. Last year Princeton defeated Harvard 1 to 0. Yale and Princeton pla ed a draw game, and Harvard and Yale di not meet owing to a misunderstand in regard to the men constituting a team. ale c aimed eleven, while Harvard and Princeton desired fifteen. Yale conceded the point to Princeton, but did not to Harvard. As Yale was not de— feated by either. she claimed to retain the championshi . This claim Harvard and Prince- ton have re to accept, but it seems to be afloat at rest now by the resu t of yesterday’s con- 'ct. Ice Shting. Tn winter season is said by the weather wise to be likely to be very severe this year. and also promises to begin earlier than it has done for blues, who won two out of three games. The several seasons past: and therefore the votaries pla ers were all members of the Athletic club, an wrerlgI aIs‘efzollows:k Reds—H. Gilmore, ca tain; . . , goal- eeper; J. M. Drill in; H. G. Harrison, cover- int; H. nghm home;T. Smith c. J. lg chart, E.' F. Comstoek, ! B. 0. Thomas, . P. Bond, J. V093, and L. C. O’Donnell, fielders. Blues—J. Pennington, cap— ( int: : om}: ; be in operation once more this winter, and some tain; F. S. Wilson, center; J. Levering, H. M. Denison, cover-point' A. Sterling, iY. H. Comstock, goal; McGann, Brown, J. D. Iglehart, J. Tyson, Jr., E. W. F Pennington, and E. Thompson, fielders. Cap— 1 of the lgreat winter sport of skating are looking forwa to far greater facilities for enjoyin their grand s rt this winter than they have b at command or some ears. pular skate ing resorts at Centr and Prespect Parks will of course monopolize the greatest patronage as thriy are free to the public. But the Capitoline an Union skating ponds in Brooklyn will also y scenes are anticipated by the young people or a series of skating carnivals are to be given this winter at the Capitoline Skating Park. .. «uh .... . -mmWaW ‘ -‘\ ...... ._...._h.......-..w.. «a. um... ..v... -.. u, .... ... mw'.‘nk-LAII‘L«AM. ... .. . nu... ....u.u.J. M...,.\.& ..a “an. Hanan“... M» A» haw...” . _ CHESS. CHESS PLAYER—S. DIRECTORY. Nsw You Casss R00ls.—Café Engel, No. 356 j Bowery . TI‘RNZB HALL Cams CLUE—NOS. 66 and 68 East , Fourth street. New You Caxss Gun—Cafe Cosmopolitan, No. 1 1-2 Second avenue. msaarras Cams Cue—Cafe Logeling, No. 49 Bowery. _ Tm: Baooxu’x Cness CLI'a meets daily In the Brooklyn Library Building, Mont ue street. \VHJJAISBI'RG PHILIDOR Cams ‘LI'a.—-Tum Hall, 71 and 73 Meserole street. day and Friday evenings. PROBLEM No. 4. BY H. C. BLACK. .r . / z,./ y/ ./ / , r, ,, . / / z/ , / i s ////l x. .7 M 7/ ’2”: 7 ‘ 7 7 2:" 44% ////,>/ V / r 'I/ /%7' / fl, ///nu//.I / _ q ,H/ /’//77///’ [I ’/%III%/ a/ /l;/ ,, ,9 . // f/l/It‘l/Ir/V /fl// ,W/Zfl ” ll//%//I//27 M , VI, gi/xr/IZ //,"///j/[/ ’ ’///’//// ,574 7/, . M 2, / l warm. White to play and mate in two moves. Chess Notes. Ma. CHAS. H. STANLEY, formerly Secretary of the British Legation at “'ashington, and at one time the leading player in this country,is now the Chess Manager of the Cafe En el, No. 356 Bowerv. during the absence of anager States and Canada. CHESS in Canada has received quite an impe tus through the inau ation of a corres ,nd— ence tourney by Mr. girl? Shaw, of the on- treal club. The mics of the tourney require each player to conduct four games simultaneous- ly, and each is to play one game with every oth- er. There is a time limit also, 48 hours only be- ing allowed between the receipt of a move and ‘ the dispa' tching a re 1y. “'e giVe the names of the contestants in t e tourney on the 22d inst. ; in the list will be noticed names of gentlemen who are well known outside of the chess world: Prof. Hicks, J. Henderson, A. Saunders and J. W. Shaw, of Montreal: M. J. Murpzhy, Quebec; C. A. Boivin, St. Hvacintbe; \V. raithwaite, Unionville; Dr. J. Ryall and H. N. Kittson, Hamilton; G. Gibson, Toronto; J. E. Narroway and J. Clawson, St. John, N. B.: J. T. \Vyéde. J. G. Foster, Q. C., andG. P. Black, Halifax, .S. Chess Lessons. (corfrrxcnn mo: scum THREE.) J'ADOUBE.—A French ex ression, s' nifyi “ I arran ,“ or “ I replace,“ w ich is used y a p ayer whenfiiee touches a man merely to adjust its tion onhthe board, without intending to play it. See the Ti law.) MINOR Pisces—The Bisho and Knight, in contra- distinction to the Queen an Rook, are called minor 5 Tan OPPOsrrios.—An important maneuver in playing the King, by which one layer is enabled to occupv certain key squares, and has compel the ad- verse ‘ to abandon a favorable position. Rt'Ls-— “a critical point is known by remember- ing that. the player who can first lace an odd num- ber of squares between the host' e Kings wins “ the opposition.“ It is mainly serviceable in Pawn end- ames. g Passer) Pawn—A Pawn is said to be a )assed one when the adversa has no Pawns to o truct its march on the same le, or on either of the next files to the right or left. To QUEEN A Paws, on To Anvaxcx a Pwa m I'EEN.—~When a layer has contrived to advance a wn to the eight or last square of the file, it as- sumes the rank and wer of a Queen, or any other Piece he chooses, andwiie is then said to have queenéd his Pawn. . Scaoma‘s Mira—A checkmatc occasionally given at the opening of aganie by a practicedrlayer to one but little tutored in the science. The ollowing are the moves: BLACK. warrr. 1. l’. to K‘s 4th. 1. P. to K's 4th. 2. K. B. to ,. B‘s 4th. 2. K. B. to Q. B‘s 4th. 3. . to K. ‘s 5th. 8. P. to Q's 3d. 4. . takes K. B. P., giving checkmate. Silorasann Mira—A checkmate which is some- times given by the Knight when the adverse King is hemmed in, or mwt/ured, by his own forces. . STALZXATE.—V‘Vlien one party has his King so Cir- cumstanced that not being at the moment in check, he cannot lay him without firing into check. and at the same t me has no other 'oce or Pawn to move instead, he is said.to be stalemated, and the game is considered drawn. Posrnox non Kocrr.—Warrn K. at K. R. 5.; Q. at K. Kt. 2.; . at K. Kt. 5.; and P. at K. R. 6th. BLACK K. at Q. Kt. 8.; at K. B. sq.; R. at Q. Kt. 5.; Kt. at K. Kt. 3.; and . at K. R. 2d. Warm, with the move, naaws av forcing Stan:- urs, in two moves. . . My narrow space utterly forbids my Illimtrating each of these technicalities by a diagram, but the following beautiful problem by ' or Giambatista Lolli. composed man years since, urnishes a means of illustrating seve of the most important of them: BLACK. %4 f (7/3,, ////// V / / ’0 / f // /zr //// fl], / ////%M // , , WM/ (2 27/7/72 / ,3 r l /7/”/, « H ,, /,// y ', .. ,u/ , I /’ ' / N 42/2/6W77//%//44 WWW , ’ 4’4 7/ ’ W max; 321/; //////,//4 n . 9/2.?” // /// If; v. r // n f 4,. , // \ A BOY phenomenon has appeared in Boston. He is an Indiana boy, only 22 .of age, named Randolph Haiscr. t is t 9 opinion of those versed in the anie that his equal is not to be seen in Boston, i , indeed, an where. In the three-ball carom game he is at 's best, and his ordinary terms are 150 or “ no count,” 8. inst the best amateurs. Recently, in an exhi ition of his skill, he astonished the spectators with runs of 113, 107 91, 58 and 53, countin . on one occasion, 84 Without going on the rai. Since his arrival in Boston he has scored the extraor- dinarv counts of 690 and 355. His manner of play is modest and unassuming and his shots are made with wonderful quickness and pre- cision. the “niassc” being one of his strongest l features. \s_ Meets for play on Wednes- . . that I will w heel and toe walk. Of course the odds are 1 O’Leary and Campsna. HERE is what the champion said about the Brid eport man in a recent interview: “ . y principal reason for coming on,” said he, “was to et up a match with Campana. er saw ‘iport,’ but from the accounts I have read concerning him he must be a good man. I am ready to bet $2.500 against 32,000 that I can I beat him in a six days’ walk and run, or ‘trot,’ asthey now term it. 1 don’t want to express an ' opinion as to whether there was sharp play at is walk in Bridgeport, but I think the man 1 himself is fully confident that he went over the 1 ground. . wonderful performance. , hisfriends yet. ‘ House, is ready to put up the money for me. ; He left it at the rooms of Belly 8.: Blim last week, T but Cain ana has failed to cover it up to the If the score was properly kept it was a have seen none of Al. Smith, who is at the Gilsey present time. “'e are most anxious to make this match. I owe New York a good perform— ance, and if ‘ Sport ’ comes to the front I Will give him a chance to stretch his legs.” “ Can you beat the record he claims to have made!" _ “ I am willin to wager $2,000 against 83.000 alE 540 miles in 144 hours in a fair against me.” From the rest of the interview it appears that O'Leary intends to walk against Corkey, the victor of the last Astley Tournament, also against “ Blower " Brown. second in that match Harriman of Boston, Guion of Milwaukee, and Schmehl of Chicago. The walk ' some or all of these will probably take place at Gilmore‘s Garden, New York city, judging from his re- marks, though it may be transferred to Chicago. O’Leary stated at the interview that he intends to go into training and astonish the world in this : last walk. It happened, however, that the report of the interview reached Campana, whereupon the 1 following correspondence ensued in the daily Capt. Mac enzie. now on a tour through the 1 papers: CAMPANA‘S CHALLENGE. ls reply to Mr. O'I.eary‘s challenge, which appears in the papers of to-day, I send this answer: It was my intention to give myself another trial in long- distance pedestrianism before meeting any of the gentlemen who have won so much distinction_in this field. Above all, i desired to avoid a meeting with the champion O‘Leary until such time as I had fully satisfied myself that it would be safe to give my enthusiastic friends an opportunity to invest their money. But as Mr. O‘Lesry so rsistently urges me to meet him on the trac , l g ve my con- sent to a match, to go as you please without aid for six days, for an even wager of 31,111) a side, the winner to take three-fourths of the gate-money, the remaining fourth to go to the loser, prov1ded he covers 450 miles. if the latter fails to cover the stipu» lated distance, the winner to take the entire pro ceeds. if this pro osition, which we consider fair, meets with genera approval, we are read to put lip and sign articles for a match, to come 0 at s time and place to be mutually agreed u n hereafter. aromas Cmaru. O'LEARY’S ANSWER. ParunsLPnn, Nov. 17th, 1878. in reply to the card of Mr. P. Napoleon Csmpsns. publishgd this moirtqing, flawmm:i:oo::tyo that. ievin Is to as on a gladlygaccefit ii), and have forwarded 31,!!!) go the Spirit oft/Ia Times, the sum he expresses s willing- ness to compete for. l commence s «ll-mile exhi- bition at Horticultural Hall of this city on Monday next. When th 1: wslk is compietedl will at once proceed to New ork and make final amn ements with Mr. Campinas. Damn-.1. 0‘ unv. This settles the business for both, and gives promise of a grandcontest when they come to- gether. ’s challenge h noticeable for its modesty. , does not commence as}! did, by a promise “ to hate. O’Leary,” w ch would make a failure ridiculous. He Simply of- fers to walk, and engages to claim no money un- less he covers 450 miles. N othing could be fair- er, and the match will be eagerly looked for. Athletic Notes. GEORGE J. Law will walk seventy—five hours in St. John’s Hall, Bridgeport, December .14, and try to make two hundred and sixty miles in that time. A FORFEIT has been placed by D. G. Ross, claimin r to be the champion ion distance run- ner of Canada, that he can beat ohn Hughes In a twenty-mile race. THE Argonauts. 'ving Games at Ber— gen Point, New Jersey, developed no very good time or distance, the best being Mr. Stri hain’s throw of the 14 pound hammer 71 feet 2 inches. A WALKING club has been formed among the Newark boat ciu and has received the de- signation of the “ x Tramps.” The club Will take practice walks to the Orange hills about once a week. . NEWARK, N. J ., Nov. 9, Little George, a boy of thirteen years, ran five miles; time, one mile, 8m. 2s, two miles, 16m. 25.; three miles, 23m. 25.; four miles, 31m. 3%.; five miles, 39m. This shows that boys can do as well as men on occa- 81011. THE Thanksgiving meeting of the Manhattan Athletic Club was well attended. The running and walking was only fair. The bicycle ridin was better, the best mile bein four minutes an four seconds, by Mr. T. La on, of the Mystic Boat Club. “'ISFIELD SCOTT and Charles Allbright, ama- teurs of Newark, started on Tlianksgivin eve to walk a hundred miles, at the Newark ink. Allbright gave in at forty miles and owned up beaten. Scott went on until he had made sixty- two miles, and was hailed winner. THE Scottish American Club gave a series of tunes on Thanksgiving Day, which drew near- Fy three thousand peop e to witness them. The hundred yard dash was won by Mr. Arnold in the very good time of 10% seconds. The heavier contests were adjourned to N ov. 30th on account of early darkness. THE en 'neer soldiers at iVillett’s Point, New York bar )or, had a fine series of athletic games on Thanksgiving Day, and showed that they had some good men. Twenty-five seconds for a 2100 ard dash—winner’s time—is very good, won by Private Kirwan. The other events were not specially interesting. HARRY CHADWICK and T. Pryor, of New- ark, had their little Thanksgiving run of 12. yards against wind, in 132-5 seconds. Of Course Chadwick won. No one of that name over con- fessed defeat, and our veteran “Sports and Pas- times ” editor feels hap y that his namesake did not bring discredit on t e Chadwick pedigree. SEVERAL ladies and gentlemen of Hastings. V‘Vestchcstcr (,‘o., N. Y., have organized a wnTk- ing club. and recently took their first jaunt from Carmunsvillc to Hastin . , about 16 mi es of toler- ablv rough Country. hree gentlemen and four ladies enjoyed the walk greatly. \Veekly ex— cursions are intended during the fall and winter. \VILLIAM KIRTI.AND and Ben ainin \Visc, two lads in the employ of Tiil'any ark, on Thanksgiving Day. \Vise won in 50 , lst, over from Sufferns, Rockland Co., N. Y ‘ on the Erie Railroad, to Paterson, N. J ., six- 1 I teen miles straight, but twenty miles by the ’ pedometer. I nev- , 00., the great 1 'ewelers, walked a five-mile race at Fieetwood 1 minutes ‘25 seconds. The men from Tiffan ’s , also raced. Mr. Treadweillran and walked f- . tcen miles in 2 hours 33 minutes 25 seconds, and ; . won the race. 1 THE “'estchestcr Club took their last jaunt for the season On unday, December '71 T1112 Editor of Tm: YOUNG NEW Yonxsa and a friend noticeda new walkin club of young men in New Rochelle, Decem 1' 1st,, going along at a lively )ace on the shore road to Ma- maroneck along t e beautiful Sound. No more , charming route can be selected than the shores ‘ of Long Island sound, for walking parties. Shoot with than the Bogardus. THE Ladies’ Saturday Walking Club took * ; their second excursion to Fort Lee, Nov. 25th. They had a very jolly time on the road, and the annalist tells us that a fruitful subject of discus- ‘ sion on the way home was the distance walked ‘ during the afternoon. One young lady declared ‘ that the walk had been alto ther too short to ' be called a walk, and she 'dn’t believe they ' had gone a step more than three miles. Others thought that they had walked four, five, and 1 six miles, and one even went so far as to say 1 that she had felt sure they must have walked 1 fourteen miles. As the opinion of the club is thus divided on the subject, and as the do not ; own a pedometer, the exact length of t is, their 5 second walk, will probably never be known. Practical Rifle-Shooting. To become a practical rifle-shot at game re- uires two things—intelligence and practice. ven inferior weapons, guided by intelligent and persevering practice will do good work, where hundred—dollar rifles will fail in the hands of lazy or stupid men. The first question fora perfect novice who aims at becomin a crack shot, is: what kind of rifle to use. he answer is, for all general shooting in North America, save that of the grizzly bear take a .40 calibre mid-range rifle, and be provided with glenty of Express bullets for short range work. uch rifles are now made by all the leading gun makers in America, and employ the same am- munition, coming from Brid rt, Conn. and sold in every town of the mon. They have advantages over all others, which only need to be stated tobe seen. The are lighter, and more handy than the ten-pount long-range match ri- fles of Creedmoor, and they have a longer range than the short ieces called “Deer” or “ Buffa- lo” rifles on t e circulars. They will bring down an antelope at five hundred yards, which is just as far as any man can see one with suffi- cient clearness to aim at a vital part. W'ith Express bullets, inside of three hundred yards, they shoot nearly twice as strong as a common “ Deer Rifle ” and they only cost half as much as a “ Creedmoor long-range ’ gun. . They arethus especially “ hunting” rifles, and one can hardly amiss in buying one from a good maker. “magnetic range from $35 to 875, accordm' g to bought such a rifle, the next thing is to learn ow to use it, so as to be sure of hitting a bird on the wing or a bounding deer in the heart. To sure of t ese feats is by no means so difficult a thing as might be sup It requires practice, of course; but six months’ work, executed in lessons of fifty shots each, once a week, will make a young man of temper- ‘ ate habits, good health and eyesight, Into a first-class shot, able to hol his own with any one save an expert like Dr. Carver. The doctor himself insists on this, and rophe- sies that the time will come when his cats at glass balls thrown in the air will be equaled by some and approached by many. To attain the pewer of shootin on e wing with the rifle, only requires tha the practice should be con- ducted, from an early period, at moving ob- jects, instead of a target. \Vc say at an “ early ” period, because the veryfirst lessons must ne~ , cessarily be taken at a large target. The object of a large target is to find where the bullets go, so that the learner can correct his mistakes; but the smaller the bull’s-e e, the better the result of a given practice. At orig range on account of the curved fli ht of the bullet, influence of wind light and 0t er causes, some calculation of angles is necessary; but for short range wing— shooting the learner has practically only one thing to remember, to hold his (run pointed straight at the object aimed at. This sounds very simple, but it is by no means as easy as it sounds. Out of every hundred shots fired by a begin- ner, fifty at least are misses, because the barrel of the rifle was not pointed at the object but to one side, above or be ow. Therefore, the first lessons of a perfect novice should be taken from a rest, beginning at fifty feet, aiming at a spot not more than an inch in diameter in the midst of a large white target. Ten show, carefully aimed in this way, ought to show any intelligent man just how to int his Elm so as to aim straight at the spOt. 8 should ' with the lightest charge ible for his r' e, to avoid smoke and recoil, th of which confuse a novice. It me. even be best forhim ‘ S. M. Morford.. .. . to begin in a shooting-ga lery with a .22 calibre rifle, to learn the first rinciples of aiming; but, i these once acquired, he should practice on] with the rifle he intends to use in shooting. ‘ man who constantly changes rifles takes longer to become a marksman than one who sticks to ‘ the same gun all the time. Captain Bogardus. 1 THIS well-known marksman gave an exhibi- ‘ tion of his skill in glass—ball shooting at the New York Aquarium corner of Broadway and 35th ‘; St. Nov. 25th. The way of making the sport ‘, interesting was this: ~ The stage was arranged with lights which , made conspicuous a white screen in the back— ground, and at the footliglits two receptacles were placed for the balls, while the spring tra )S by which these were worked stood under t is , footlights in the ring, a sort of platform bein , some feet distant, upon which the captain stood j during the performances. A string was con- . nth with this trap, which the captain held in ' his hand, so that he might whirl the balls a cer- tain distance in the air for the shooting. He - appeared dressed in black and wearin on his breast the several medals he has won in ingland and America—the cham ionship medal of Amer- ica, in 1871; the Lori] 21rd medal in 187-1; the Championship of the \V'orld medal in 1875, and 3 the Championship Glass Ball medal in 1877, with a Maltese cross, which was a pri sent from the Iii— tci'national Gun and Polo Club. The gun used by him last evening was 20 go e, half—ounce shot and 5 1-2 pounds weight. he first feat Iicl'fOl‘nli‘d by him was the shooting of three balls in American style, that is with the gun be- low the elbow. The next was the shooting of three balls with the gun at the shoulder, in the, Eu dish-style. and after this be shot three balls , witi his back to the trn ), pulling the. string himself. The next was t e shooting of three ‘ I balls with the gun in one lmnd, the left hand ; here. 1 carriage, exceedingly tame, and only about , main together. rearing successive broods, nei- ' nocent flirtatious with other birds. being devoted to pulling the string. He was : then announced to shoot twelve balls in one minute, but accomplished the feat in thirty— three seconds. ' Glass Ball Matches. THANKS to the horrible brutality of some so- called sportsmen who actuallv tortured pigeons ‘: f in the traps to make them fly swiftly when re— 1 i leased, one club at least, the S Jersey, has to glass ha I . rewsbury of New 1 ]given up pigeon shooting and taken s. An interesting meeting took place at Red Bank, New Jersey, Nov. :35th. The f princi al event was a match at 1:”) balls, 16 yards 3 rise, arker trap, Bogardus rules, the prize being the handsome gold badge of the club. The Parker trap is a much more difficult trap to It throws the ball as the trapper sets it, right or left. and can 1 be made to throw a skyrocket or swift incomer. Over a dozen balls in the contest for the badge were thrown direct toward the shooter, the fragments of the broken balls flying in his face. The following are the scores of the two princi- pal events: RED BANK, N. J.. Nov. 25, 1878.—Mi:i:ri.\'o Snazws- star GI'N Cue—Glass bail shoot, for gold badge; 15 balls, 18 yards rise, Parker trap; Bogardus rules. ” Broke. GeorgeA.“Ild.111111111101111 14 S.M.Morford..01111111101111] 131 1T.Davis........101110111110101 lll L.B.Campbell..001111011110110 10I A.R.Coleinan...000110011110001 7 Dr.Marsden.....001001100000000 3 SAME I)AY.—Gl&SS bal sweepstakes: $2 entranCe s l for six entries; 5 balls, 21 yart Bogardus rules. L. B. Cain bell. Tenbrook lavis.,.. .. . , . . . . . . . . , .. ( George A. Wild . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 0 A. R. Coleman . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . .. 1 Dr. Marsden . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 0 Referee—Mr. J. C. Valentine, Red Bank Club. Another match at glass balls came off on the wwuhihv‘ same day at Long Branch between Captain 1 Edgar Green of the Monmouth Shooting Club, and Mr. T. H. Hamilton, a well known New York amateur shot. The conditions of the match were 25 double balls each, two traps in yards apart, 16 yards rise, Bogardus rules gov- erning. It was the first double shooting at lass balls done by amateurs this season at ng Branch, and many friends of the inarksmen came down to witness the unique match. The following is the I . . .- . srinuav. Bruncnimao, N. J.. Nov. 25.—Glass ball match be- tween Edgar Green, Monmouth, and T. H. Hamilton, New York; 25 double balls, 2 traps, 16 yards rise: Bogardus rules. 850 a side. ' Score. Edgar Green—.llllllllllli 11111111101101 11 111110 11 11 100111101101—Broke 43' missed 7’. T. H. Hamilton—111110 11011110i11110111111 011101 11 0010 1111 1‘ 11 11 10-—Broke 39; missed 11. ' Miss fire. ClRgfereewChase Wagenstafr, Philadelphia Shooting Ii . Time of match, four hours. . Rod and Gun Notes. AT Redbank, New Jersey on Tha 'ving Day, besides some of the abominable pigeon slaughters, elsewhere condemned, occurred one bona fide trial of skill with shot-gun. A sweep- stakes at 15 glass balls, 82 entrance, 12 entries. 10 yards rise, Bogardus rules. It resulted as follows: Thomas Hamilton . . . . ..15 Mr. Coombs . . . . . . . . . . .. 9 P. astings... 15 Thomas Oates. ' Gates. .18 William J. Wilson . . . . . . .1 r.Ellis.... . .11 C Martinez .. R. L Caswell ..11 D. ..5 Silas Gaston... . .10 D. C. Lyman . . . . . . . . . . ..2 In'shooting of! ties at 21 yards, three balk, Hamilton and Hastings broke the first three. 0n the second three Hastings missed, Mr. Harn- ilton winning first money, breaking in all 20 balls, and Mr. Hastings, 1 . CREEDMOOR closed for the season on Thanks- giving week, as far as regards-matches, but it will be open for practice all the winter. The terms are by no means 3gb, five dollars a year giving a person the pri ’ ege of the range and making him a member of the National Rifle As- sociation. Many Brooklyn and New York lyl'oung men even if unprovided with rifles. ave availed themselves of the advantages of Creedmoor as the cheapest place, on the whole. to learn shooting. Rifles can be hired from the range-keeper at 25 cents an hour, and am- munition be purchased in any quantity at the common store rates, while the fare is now put at 50 cents a return ticket. Amig avg E‘ANUIEH. Keeping Pigeons. ACCORDING to the present fashion among fan- ciers, next after the carriers come the “ English pouters ” Originally they were kn0wn as “crop- pers,” t at name bein doubtless derived from the lar be or crop 0 wind which they carry beneat the ak, and which they can raise or depress at will. They are, it is believed, the Eroduct of cross—breedings between the old utch cro per, the uploper, or the Parisian pouter. T we Austrian fpouters are very hand- some red birds, not 0 ten seen in rfection No other fine igeons are so (iflicult to rear as the “ poutcrs.’ They are apt to neglect their young after the seventh or eighth day. Two kinds of pigmy pouters, “Isabels” and “ Brunnen,” are raised in Germany, and to some extent in En land. which are not, so far as the fanciers in t is city know, tn any stock in this country. They are very beautiful in color and two-thirds as large as the Engliin pouters. After these odd birds come nearly a hundred different varieties of igeon, such as fantails, shakers, jacobins. ru Is, owls, nuns, tumblers, ; clear fine weather. I joy, they play all their funny antics in the air. almond and ermine tumblers, dragoons and others, se arated from each other by differ- l i ences of p uniage, shape and color, and varying I in )rice as shown in our first number. i n propagating culiar characteristics, or reserving the purity of recognized breeds, the Fancicr is assisted by a strange fidelity between 5 mates. \Vhen a male and female pi eon Irate together they evidently intend that 13 mir union shall be for life. Season after season they re— ther member of the couple even indulging in in— Tlie young pigeon fancier, in choosing his ar- ticular breeds to operate on, is much assiste by this fact: Jacobins and fantails, waters and carriers, can be kept in the same oft without any danger of mixing and deteriorating the breeds, if care is taken to let no pair into the general loft until it has mated and formed its life attachment. Unless this precaution is taken, however, the different breeds are pretty sure to mix together, and the result will be within a few generations, that the stock will degenerate into the common s1reet-pigc0n,nenr- ly worthless. The only class of pigeons that must positivvly { be kept by themselves. and in a loft, is that of . the tumblers. These birds, if kept in an open I cote, lose their peculiar habits of tumbling over i and over in the air, to which they owe their , name. Tumblers must therefore be kept eon- fined, and oniv let ovt once a day at most, in Then, in the excess of tht ll‘ umblers are. perhaps, the most elegantly forni— ed of all fancy pigeons, and have a ' high-bred " look that is very attractiv *. “ Incubators.” CONTRIYANCES for hatching out chickens in large numbers by artificial heat, are beginning to be made a success in America, as their own— ers acquire experience in their management. The Bradford Breeze in “'estern New York. informs us that a Hornellsville poultererhas 800 chickens hatched by means of incubators. and intends this month to commence hatching 3,000 eggs for Spring chickens. We would not advise our own youn er readers to start tleir incubators on sucha arge scale, but we have known chickens hatched by the dozen in a citv house over a hot air register. Beginning ink small way is the true method to acquire experi ence. The Wizard of the Billiard Table. ADRIAN IZAR, the celebrated French billiard player, gave one of his scientific billiard enter- tainments in the Newcastle Town Hall, Eng— land, lately, before an apireciative assembly. Though an “ expert ” wit the cue his favorite mode of play is by spinning the ball from be- tween the thumb and forefinger of the right hand, and he has this great advantage over his opponents who use the cue, that he can move his ball from any rt of the board and spin it from whichever side of the object ball shall be most favorable for the intended carom or hazard. The first item in the programme was a carom game of 150 points up wherein Mr. G. H. Banks. of the Blac Boy’s Billiard Rooms, received fifty points start, and wielded the cue in opposi- tion to the powerful thumb and forefinger of the French professor. Nothing remarkable was done until the Frenchman strung together eleven consecutive caroms, shortly after which game was called—88 all. Here Banks, by some good play, got awaya little. his following shot being particularly good; but it was only on suf- ferance, however, and Monsieur Izar made 150 points, while Banks reached only 130. Next fol owed an ordinary game of billiards of 500 u . the cue again wielded by Banks, receiving ‘38! start. This time Banks again played Well. though his luck was rather against him, his highest break being 42; while the rofessor. who seemed able to repeat a losing azard in one of the corner pockets any number of times. won after a marvelous exhibition of skill, by nearly 150 points, his hi best break being a good all-round one, in whic he scored 137 pomts. Then followed an exhibition of fancy stroke. among which Monsieur Izar played a new stroke. known as the snake carom, the ball running the gantlet of two decanters and sixteen tumbler glasses before making the desired carom. He made caroms after curves, made caroms from miss-strokes, made caroms on the woodwork of the table, from the table onto the floor, caromed with fifteen pyramid balls, spun the balls into all the pockets from every conceivable angle. and wound up a most marvelous entertainment by spinning one of the balls upon a plate for four minutes and a half. Burmese Football. AMONG the most curious of pular Burmese games is football, and it is r iaps.the most in- teresting, as it is not only w oily different from its namesake of the West, but is one of the few Burmese games in which the charm lies in the pure skill of the play, not in the ambling for which it serves as the occasion: urmese foot— ball has, however, very little in common with the English game. It is, indeed, unquestiona- bly “football,” 'et it is no game of vigorous ex- ercise for hotrb ooded boys; there is no mimic battle, no furious charge of contending sides. It is a game calling rather for accuracy of eyennd for grace and agilit ' of movement. The ball itself, about a third t e size of a Ru by footl‘all. is a hollow sphere of open- laitef cane—Work. forming a hard and very i ht ball, and the game is played in this wise: our, six or eight players stand facing each other in a ring, a few yards’ interval separating player from layer. The perfection of the game consists in t e skill with which the football is kept from falling to the ground while it is kicked or jerked from player to player, or high in air, around or across the circle, and in the variety of the form of ini— pulse given to it by the players. Each in turn receives the ball as it chances to fall near him and meets it as his fancy prompts him at the moment, for it is by no means kicked uniformly from the foot. but as the player graceful] turns each time to receive it, it is arrested as it falls on the knee, the shin, the ankle, the fore-arm, even on the neck or shoulder, being jerked skill- fully into the air from each part of the body in succession. Thus the first kick-off may be made from the toe, and the ball flies across the circle to be received on the thigh of the o posite play- er; jerked thence it is received by the next player on the shoulder, by a third on the heel. v a fourth on the nape of the neck, and so forth. till it is missed and falls to the ground. It may be supposed that there is greater variety in the skill o fOotball players, and that much scope is given in the me for the display of grace, agil- ity, and quic ess of eye. As the s rt is con- fined to one spot moreover, it is as eaSIly watched as it is interesting to the lockers-011; and so uni- versally popular is the game, that throu bout the country it may be seen almost daily p ayed by the hour together under a cluster of trees. at the street. corner, or on the village green.— Fruser’s Magazine. T0 ADIV’ERTISERS. WA few Adrerti'semmts will be inserted on this page at the rate of twenty-five cents per line, nonpareil measurement. 1 I UNTING, Trapping, Fishing, preparing Furs. training sporting dogs. how to teach horses. dogs. &'C., amusing and wonderful tricks, with many other interesting and valuable things in Honey‘s Iii- formation for the Peoole. mammoth size. illustrated. only ten cents of anv‘bookseller or by mail. JESSE IIANEY 8: ca. 119 Nassau St., N. Y. TA XIDERMIST’S Manual. a guide to collect- ing. preparing, preserving and mounting ani- mals, birds, insects, &c. Illustrated 50 cts. Dog training. 25 cts. Hunter and Trap iei"s Guide, 20 (‘1:1 0f booksellers or by mail. JESS HANEY & (70.. 119 Nassau St., NY. - PECK l SNYDER‘S AMERICAN F ‘ CLUB SKATE II:.S$UI;’:°L 1:0 an PA a ‘650 u l . . I . . . H 8.00 urn. run: avnuwx on WRENCN Paton. LSD untfigi urn-Y ’dgaufv. “veil; OAF 'Kizrlicgnl.agcgfn.rrinfgg;gssvme 3n (lg-:H'LILT’: 3:335:31; '1 . . U DER ‘ 11+ NASSAU s; cl‘rflvusw $3:‘if.‘°"”""‘ TED. PK" PAI ll Just published, our new fall catalogue, full of illus- trations of Magic and Conjuring Tricks, Scroll Saws and Trimmings, Magic ancrv, Musical instruments. Skates, Printing Presses, i'lays, etc.. sent by mail, for 10 cents. PECK & SNYDER, , 124 Nassau St., N. Y. ‘1, t. . : .~.. 2...: ’1... (at-.. or; L‘~".‘rv‘4u‘»~.ar»aao. I-L:-.:.— .. " “ 14.: 425.5...“ X r M sat; - um. o‘- -.m . , ,..- (.1 7 ‘ .9 . , -h~w:"~u n .b A : ---¢—- ..... -aw...» .. a. ‘1': i r. i ll \ g . i s. t 'i_ I i A i; hw’Pih‘”I‘-m~rw1. .- vrmghl A m CONTRASTS. BY C. A. L. COUNTRY. From happy revelry of dreams I wake at early morn. ~ To gaze across the ocean blue, Where smiles the sun new-box n. The mist throughout the valley, Like a vail. is thrown around, While dew, like liquid diamonds, Lies sparklin on the ground. No noise distur s the holy calm, Save the song of merry bird, Or the tinkling of the distant bell Among the lowing herd. I aze u n the grassy fields, . fiiathe in the morn 3 clear light, And, like the nodding trees and flowers, Stand radiant with delight, M soul seeks utterance or its thought, ts deep-felt joy to give, “ Oh, what a happy, glori How sweet it is to live!’ crrv. I wake from out my troubled sleep, With wild convulsions start, To hear go rumbling through the street Some milkman's lumbering cart. The lamps are dimly burning ‘long Our narrow alleyway, And yet the busy din Without Proclaims ’tis almost dacy. Musketoes who, with fish ish glee, Have feasted all the night, Still buzz around my weary head, Seeking another bite. I rise from off my pillow, that Shows signs of general slaughter, To hear an alley-bitped cry, “ Mack-r-i-l, five or a quar-t-e-r." I gaze from out my window On the houses dull and red, And see some back-room lodger, p‘r‘aps, Just jumping out of bed. _ Then louder, louder, grows the nOise, While the rag men, the fish men, the A ple men, the sweet-potato men, The ice men, the old clothes men, And the chairs-to-bottom men All raise their voices high, Till I madly scream in chorus. “ Shut up, or I shall die." ous world, 1 Spur and Saddle; LIFE ON A CATTLE RANCH. BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. No. IV.—THE SEEM... “ WHAT do you think of our lon -horns, now?” and the youn ranchero grinned roadly as he turned to Art ur Duncan. “I’ve known just such horns put to worse use, and I’d rather face the oints, than the butt with you at the other end 0 it.” With a laugh Walt raised the long, silver- mounted horn to his lips and sounded a prolong- ed, musical blast. “ There’s music in it, if one only knows how to blow it out. When you hear a dozen of them coming from as many different directions, out of the early morn and mingling with the bell- notes of the hounds, then you will understand what I mean.” “It must be delicious” grunted Ross, as his mustang stumbled. “ We heard the sound of your mellow horn in the early morn for the past two days, and, if you have no objections, for the future please send an old he donkey to bray our slumber away, for, sure’s your born, your breath sounds mighty bad in a horn.” The young raiichero made no re ly, for he saw that mischief was brewing. hat others were equally upon the alert, a sharp, warning mot from the horns of the herdsmen upon either side of the drove, plainly proved. “ You two slack u I” cried Walt, sharply, to the brothers. “ Hol your horses well in hand, ready to dodge—if they crowd you close, use your revolvers—and shoot to kill! ’ Arthur and Ross stared at each other in amazement. What could he mean? Was there danger of Indians—of cattle-thieves? As far as the eye could reach there was no living object in view save the herd of cattle, the horses and their riders. In their ignorance, the brothers never suspected that the danger was in that flee- ing herd, yet the signs were easy to be read by an experienced eye. Their speed was decreasing. Those upon the outside were crowding upon the compact center, but their long-horned fronts were turned out- ward and shaken with short, explosive bellows. And scarcely had Walt finished his word of warning than, as by one accord, the cattle broke ranks and scattered in every direction, despite the stinging lashes and furious yelling of the herders. Then the brothers realized their danger, but it was too late to wholly avoid it. Ere they could turn their horses to flee, the hairy mon- sters were upon them. Arthur, taking counsel of dear experience, left his horse to itself, and as a consequence the nimble, knowing creature bore him unscathed through that headlong, unreasonin charge. Not so Ross. A long-legged steer wit lowered head seemed bent on fairly running him down. If left to itself, the mustang, which was boldly facing the animal, would have dodged the shock, but Ross pullei hard upon the left rein, and, un- able to resist the jaw-breaking bit, the horse wheeled, just in time to receive the full force of the shock upon its right side. Horse, steer and rider went down together, just as, with a shrill yell, the young ranchero rushed up. He bent low in the saddle, making a sure grasp at the lad’s belt, and then, with a superhuman effort, rose erect in the saddle, bearing with him his cousin, thus dextrously snatched from almost certain death. A dozen leaps and they were clear of the ruck. Ross was drop ed gently to the ground, and the next moment alt almost fell from the saddle, white and wan as a ghost, entirely overcome by the danger his cousin had run and the terrible strain upon his powers of mind and body. There were few words spoken. The danger had been too great and was still too recent. A long, warm clasp of the hand, an interchange of dee , earnest glances; no more. T e black mustang was lying motionless in a pool of its own blood. The long, slender horn of the steer had entered just behind its fore- leg, passing throu h and emerging at the left breast. Death had been almost instantaneous. There was no time for conversation. and the others had succeeded in turning the leaders of the herd, and the rest were flocking around them. Ross clambered up behind W'alt. 3 but in vain. Wherever they turned, there was a horseman with his terrible wh_i . Blood fol- lowed every blow, and the pistol- e cracks were unceasm . . Slowlvgthe cattle were forced down the lines, and each moment set more men at hberty to force them on, until, with a headlong rush the foremost of the herd plunged throu h the _open- ing into the corral. The others fol owed in hot haste the bars were replaced, and the first act was done. _ Uncle Frank came u and cordially greeted his nephews, for he ha not been at home Since their arrival. He led them to where they could overlook the proceedings, and explained all that occurred. . . As for Walt, he was in the midst of the Wild scene, glorying in the mad, dangerous turmofl. As previously stated, the main object of the autumn rodea, is to collect all the cows that have young calves in order to mark the cattle so that there may be no doubts as to the owner- ship of each, when the springfodea takes place, which is for the purpose of randing the year- g the fall gathering, the calves are still up- weaned, and of course, stick closely to their mothers. The sefial, or mark upon her ears, shows to whom each cow belongs, and the calves are given the same mark. Every stock-raiser has his peculiar serial, to ether with brand, duly recorded. A caseo counterfeiting seldom occurs. The first move was to se arate the cows and calves from the male catt e. Besides the bars rest, and almost as quickly their calves were beside them, ting and quiverin With fear and fatigue. e guards stepped aside, the ani- mals rushed forth, bellowmg 'witn joyz .As many horsemen were in waiting, and riding alongside, saw how the cows were marked. Then a cast of the lasso the The marker ran forward, and kneehng upon its neck, uickly cut the serial upon one or both ears, as t e case demanded then removed the noose, leaving cow and calf to flee until fatigue or a sense of safe induced it to stop. Before the our of noon, all the calves were marked, and the men after a wash from the barrels of water hauled to the s t for that pur- pose, gathered beneath the sha e of the corral- fence to eat a cold dinner: The peculiar care which both Arthur and Rom betrayed in seating themselves, called forth many good-humored jokes, but these were changed to e ressions of sym thy, when Walt narrated t e accident which ad occurred to each of them. . Uncle Frank looked grave, but the cousins came to the rescue and absolved Walt from even the shadow of carelessness. They had forgotten his repeated advice, and suffered the conse— quence. “ Now then,” said the young ranchero, when an hour had been passed in rest; “you’ll see the choicest part of the whole business. Of course, since you don’t know how to manage the lariat, ou can’t take a very active part in the s rt, but you must mount, and I warrant you’l en- joy it as much as anybody. Come on!” its countless forms of beauty, brin to the deep its own creatures made to dwe amidst the mighty waves, or to sport over their ever- changing surface! Of all shapes and Sizes— fr’om the great black-backed gull who moves among his brethren of the air like a feathery monarch, exacting tribute from. eve .newly discovered feast, to the delicate little ing no lar r than the swallow—these long-wm ed sprites are met with upon every shore t at bounds the ocean’s waves. In tropical lands they remain permanently all the ear round; but the depart from the more northern climes when he chill blasts betoken the advent of winter, coming to cover their ac- customed fishing-grounds with ice, and to hide when in noisy oups, assembled over some school of little fis , they plun . rapid succession, thrOWing Jets of sparkling dro s into the air as each fa' bod strikes the yie ding surface. Shrill cries o triumph— sometimes of an , petulant scolding, as one stronger than his ellow snatches 'away a well— earned prize—resound on eve Side. The e e becomes dazzled and wearied in following t ie into the sea in ' YOU may wander at your own sweet will in dreamy listlessness through the woods taking in with eager eye the beauty of the golden tints of the foliage, and the calm, subdued light of the orb of day as it comes slanting through the trees; but, inspiring as everything is about you, you will nevertheless 1056 all your interest for the time being when you receive a char of buck- shot in your calves, Which was ev1dently in- their finny prey. Graceful are their evolutions i tende for some other animal—Hackensack Republican. No CAUSE 'ro Car—Just after last election a boy who had been caught out in the soaking rain and well drenched, was standing in a door- way wiping his eyes and nose by turns, when a ‘ second lad about his age came along feeling a excited tliron , though the spectator .is filled : with pleasure le emotions at the variety and beauty of their swift and easy movements. Not only along the reaches of the sandy shore are these attractive birds found. Far out at sea, hundreds of miles distant from any land, they flit over the bleak waters and glean a scanty meal from off the Crests of the angry through which the herd had entered the corral there were three others, one upon each side and end, each opening into another corral. Before each of these three openings stood two men armed with whips. A score of others were in the corral, similarly armed, whose duty it was to separate the bulls, steers and yearlings from the cows and calves, one or two at a time, and force toward one of the openings, when the guards would step aside, and the cattle, seeing liberty apparently before them, would dash through t e bars, only to find that they had ex- changed one prison for another. The scene was as exciting as it was dangerous. Few animals have more of the devil in their composition than these same long-horns; They Pedrillo ‘ L and as they swept around to the rear of the cat- 1 tle, the young ranchero summoned the cook and bade him give his mount to Ross and follow on foot with the furniture of the dead mustang. Ross would have protested, but \Valt would i not hear him. They were only three miles from the big corral, and the man would be only too glad to escape his share of the work at the ex- pense of so short a walk. A few minutes later they came in sight of the huge corral, or rather cluster of corrals, and at the clear blast of “’alt‘s horn, near a hundred horsemen were seen forming in two long lines, through which the cattle were to be forced into the corral. Now came the tug of war. The cattle appa- rently remembered their past experience upon Similar occasions, and fought fiercely for liberty, are treacherous in the extreme. An old and ap- parently broken-down ox will suddenly and without visible cause, cast off the shackles of age and infirmity, and “run a muck” with all the deadly fury of an insane Malay. How much worse, then, are a hundred of them, in the rime of age and condition. goaded to fury by t e yells and the cracks of the cruel whips? It calls for cool courage and thorough self-re liance in the man who would face them, upon foot and armed only with a whip. especially when surrounded by trampling hoofs and clat— terin horns—horns that would slip through one’s ody as easily as a spear or saber. Arthur and Ross Duncan watched the exciting scene with glowing eyes and thrilling nerves. Each moment they expected to witness some bloody tragedy, but as often were they agree— ably disappointed. By twos and threes the male cattle were driven into the other corrals. until only the cows and calves were left. Then all save the outer set of bars were securely fastened, and the work of applying the sei'ial was commenced. Several of the cows were separated from the Gym BS or THE SEA. Gleaners of the Sea. A GALLANT ship that has survived the fury of many storms is brought at last to its death upon the stretches of asandy coast. have found many a crevice in its worn sides, and with resistless power have torn the planks i their sides. waves, or follow in the wake of swiftly sailing ships, watchful for every morsel thrown over Although so light of body as to ‘ seem to be the sport of everv passing breeze, The fierce waves ‘ from its frame and strewn them along the shore. ; The cargo, floating through the yawning chasms, is borne along by the waters, and the fairy gulls are attracte toward it. Lightly they skim above detached morsels of the eatable portion . of the ship’s stores, or settling down upon the waters near some particularly tempting piece with shrill cries dispute for its possession, and , endeavor to bear it away in their ivory bills. ; They swarm about the wreck in countless num- 3 bers, and lighten, with their silvery dress, the . dark background of the clouds. Amidst all the Winged tribes that find their ‘ homes upon the bosom of the ocean. and seek their subsistence amidst the tossing crests of its waves. none are more attractive and beautiful, with their graceful forms and pure white dress, than the active, lively gulls, our Gleaners of the Sea. Coming at times in flocks. with every kind of erratic movement, more like the fleecy snow- % flakes borne by the wintry wind than creatures endued with life, they flit over their billowy ‘ home, or cover in silent ranks the bleak wastes of its sandy bounds. Lonely indeed would be ‘ the wide expanse of ocean. were there no feather- . ed creatures to sport over its waves. and to gambol upon its surface. As we look upon their structure. so adapted to the life they are destined to live. so wonder- " fully fitted to the sphere they are formed to fill, how limitless appear the resources of Creative ‘ Power, which, having bestowed upon the land 1 they battle successfully with the storm steady- in themselves against the furious blast on ba anced wings, and with repeated tacks, like well-guided vessels, making headway in the very face of the tempest. The sea-gull is al- ways at home upon the deep, and when wearied by a long~continued flight, settles itself upon the water, and folding carefully its long wings over its back, quietl ' rests, unmindfu of the waves that toss its light form about, as they swing to the power of the wind. innumerable curves of the white bodies of the halted and 100k x 1 00d deal worse. “ IV-what ails ou?”-sobbed the second, as he the other over. “ I—I got all wet, and I’ve—I lost a cent!” was the reply. “ Is that all?” indignantly demanded the first; “then you’d better run home—you hain’t got no right to cry!” " B-but you are c—crying too!” “ I—I know it, but my father run for office yesterday, and g-got left! _ When I cries I have suthin’ to Cry about—suthin’ that affects the hull family!” THE Burlington Hawkeye presents the follow- ing ten valuable rules for young men: Always pick up a hot poker by the cold end. Never spend your money when you can get things for nothing. Do not despise a twenty-cent cigar or a $2 dinner because another man pays for it. Remember that it costs more to go to a high- priced theater than it does to take a back pew in a free church. Nothing is troublesome to you that other peo- ple do for you willingly. Never pay to—day the man you can put off till to-morrow. Never trouble yourself to do for another what he can do just as well for himself.~ Never buy what you don’t want simply be- cause the man says he is just out of it. Do not poultice your own elbow for the boil on another man’s neck. When angry, be sure you can handle your man before you call him a liar. A Warren—He boarded the car with a rub- ber shoe in his pocket big enough to fit over a No. eight cowhide boot, and at a proper mo- ment, when all eyes were turned u n the car switchii past, he drop 1 the ru her on the floor an then sudde y pretended to see it. Bending over and ickin it u be called out. “ Which of you adies ost t is rubber?” Every face turned pale at the size of it, and each lady gave the other a sly glance. “Some one in this car lost this rubber!” Not a lad ' moved. Each one wondered if one of her ru bers had dropped off, but her mind was made up to wade in mud two feet deep be- fore claiming that one. “ The owner can have it—I charge nothing for my services,” calmly observed the fiend, as he looked down one side of the car and up the other. Not a hand was raised, but all feet were drawn under the seat, as if b machinery. “Very well,” said t e man, as he rose up to leave the car. “I’m a rubber shoe ahead. It won’t do the loser any good to call at my office, or tosend a boy and a basket after this shoe, for I won’t give it up.” THE BOY WHO WANTED A DRINK.—A restless, questionin uneasy, thirsty boy. He let the window fa on his fingers before the train had gone a mile! He went to the water-cooler and got a drink, then he came back and told his mo- ther that he was hot, and went back and got another drink. He drank about four times per mile. W'hen he was in his seat, he watched the aisle narrowly, and if he saw any passenger get up and move toward the water-cooler he would 'ump u and race for it. If he got there first, e we d drink and snore over the cu until the thirsty traveler forgot what he went t ere after. People began to wonder how much the boy was gauged for, and if he wasn’t rather straining his capacity. I was afraid the supplv of water would give out before the boy was filled up, and he was rather a small boy, too. Near VVaseca, we ran nearly a mile without the boy making a stop at the tank. So I leaned over the edge of the seat and said carelessly: “By George. but I am thirsty. I wonder if there is any water on this car?” You want to understand me now, that that boy’s mother, sittin beside him, was no fool. Her eyes snapped w en she heard my careless and innocent remark: she took in every syllable of it and she turned on me in a flash, with: “ wish you would mind your own business and leave my boy alone !" A low. mocking murmur of applause went through the car, a little of it for the indignant mother, some of it for the charity boy. but most of it for me. She suppressed yours truly very successfully, but it was too late. Long before she finished that brief sentence, her boy was down at the water—cooler. holding his eyes tight shut to keep the water from running out of them.——Burlington Hawkeye. THE nephew was the typical nephew of the comedies and novels: the uncle the typical uncle. The former got himself into debt; the latter had to help him out of debt. But the most long-suffering men must at last lose - tience, and one fine day the uncle writes to is dear nephew that all is over between them. Not another penny. The nephew flies down to his uncle’s country seat and falls at his vener- able relative’s gouty feet. “Uncle Peter, dear uncle Peter—just this once. Aid me to straighten out this snarl in finances. and I will never cometo you again.” “Oh. Roland, I know you too well. My sis- ter‘s son—my only sister‘s son." says the old '1 man, wiping away a furtive tear. : me once more?” said the Some of the breeding resorts of the sea-gulls i are most wonderful places to visit; for although 1 many merely depos1t their eggs in hollows in the sand, fyet sometimes they associate (for the E ose o rearing their young) with other sea- ir ‘ which are accustomed to breed on cliffs overhan ing the sea. At such places every shelf an narrow ledge is hidden by inyriads of auks, guillemots and puffins, which lay their unprotected eg upon the bare rocks, or in slight holes on t e faces of the cliffs: while fur- ther in the chasms the gulls resort. and, form- ing colonies of their own. hatch and rear their young in peace. alive with the countless win ed inhabitants, some arriving with food for t eir young, and “ Ah! your heart is touched: you will assist oung man. “ Listen,” said his age relative, “ have you a rule .3" “ A which?” “ A rule—a foot—rule.” “ Why should I have one? I ain‘t a carpen- fer.” “ Go and find one immediately." The young man. puzzled but hopeful. goes. and at the end of half an hour returns and says: “ Uncle dear. here is the foot-rule.” “ Very well: measure this room, length, . breadth and hight, so asto ascertain its cubic All day long the rocks are : others departing to seek it; and should they be , suddenly disturbed by any unwelcome intruder, the whole population rises on wing, with a noise like distant thunder, in numbers that fairly darken the sky. Although so crowded. the dif- ferent species dwell together in unity, and when ' their arduous duties are over, depart. each to seek its accustomed haunts. and to enter upon its usual mode of life, eiilivening with its pre- sence the bleak shores of the watery world. dimensions.” The young man, more puzzled than ever, sets to work about his task, and at length makes his report. “ Uncle, the room contains 3.040 cubic feet.” “ You are sure of that?” “ Absolutely.” “ Very well," says the old gentleman rising to his feet. and speaking in a tone of thun er. “ and now. sir. if this room which contains 3.040 cubic feet. was filled with double-eagles packed so tightly that you couldn‘t rain. jam. or cram a three-cent-piece int-o it, I wouldn‘t give you a penny. Git I" its.