De, ix he nd th he Ws, nts. ita: who 90 For aid, ers, yw’ dren ttle. your ‘oss ack quite ore the at wes i Papaatm saci maine dada 7 ee Eee YE» yy “UM, 5 . S SS S DiS Lest 2 N- N rs “Ex N N a IN N \N N. \ NY —¥ SS : West > (Ses Sours G. aw, awe DEOL STORIES Prony yee on] ===> +2 FROM RVERY- QUART ER > = > iH i Entered According to et of Congress, in the Year 1895, by Street & Smith, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D.C. Entered as Second-class Matter at the New York, N.Y., Post-Office. ee ee ee ee ee eee ee ee et eee ee ee ee ee eT 9 Rose Bireet, New York. New York, May 11, 1895. oer eee Wears "962 5 y ’ $2.50 per Year. 0. . Kat ins a ry } : : “Sa ne = WITH A GASPING CRY, GUNPAT BOUNDED IN AIR, CLUTCHING AT HIS BREAST JUNGLES AND TRAITORS; THE WILD ANIMAL TRAPPERS OF INDIA. BY WILLIAM MURRAY GRAYDON, Author of “The White King of Africa,” ‘‘The Camp in the Snow,” ‘From Lake to Wilderness,” ete. x (“JUNGLES AND TRAITORS” was commenced last week.) + As Baba Khan slowly arose, the| swung his own weapon over his shoulder, 34> bewildered expression on his face was | ready to meet the threatened attack. CHAPTER IV. ludicrous to see. Garcia wiped a few drops of blood from his nose, and swore a fright- NIGHT IN THE JUNGLE. ful oath. Then he lifted his rifle to strike \\ SN ON WT KN rh i down Marco, who was standing with flash- Man, eee ERS Seca |! SVL MC m BRIEF interval of utter silence fol- | ing eyes and heaving bosom. j * “© KEPT HIS EYES ON THE TIGRESS—ON THE GREAT JAWS WHICH HE | JX. lowed Marco's daring attack. The lad stepped quickly to one side. He FELT WOULD SHORTLY TEAR HIM LIMB FROM LIMB. HOOD NW s. ‘‘Keep off!’’? he cried. ‘Il warn you in time.’? That instant he felt his rifle jerked out of his hands. Baba Khan had treacherously crept up behind the lad. Marco was now defenseless. The Portuguese came on, his swarthy face hideous and distorted with passion. The de- sire for revenge made him ferocious. He aimed a blow at the lad. But, by a clever twist, Marco dodged the descending rifle. He cast one glance at the perfidious natives, and instantly abandoned all hope of aid from that quarter. There was but one chance left. He turned, and dashed at full speed across the glade. ‘*Stop him!’’ roared Garcia. ‘‘Stop him! Fifty rupees to the man who captures the boy !?? Marco heard the words, and the greedy cries that followed. They merely spurred him to greater efforts. A rifle-ball whistled overhead; then another, and another. Now he plunged into the friendly shelter of the jungle. Fortunately, Marco’s adventurous life in the past six years had trained him to scien- tific running. He ran on and on as rapidly as the tangled vegetation would permit. Frequently he twisted to right or left. At intervals he heard the trampling and shouting of his pursuers, now in one airec- tion, now in another. He was presently satisfied that they had him surrounded. So he did a wise thing. He crawled on his stomach into a clump of dense grass, and found a safe hiding-place between two stones. Here the young fugitive lay for three or four hours. He heard his enemies scouring the neighborhood. Frequently they came near the spot. Once the Portuguese and Baba Khan passed by the clump of grass, Marco feared the beating of his heart would betray him. ‘*I’m as good as dead if I fall into Gar- cia’s clutches,’’ he reflected. ‘‘The ruffian would kill me without merey. His object is to prevent me from getting back to camp and telling what has happened.’? | : But the sounds of pursuit gradually died fees away. Marco waited another hour, and then ventuerd to leave his hiding-place. His situation was now deplorable. He was in the midst of a dark and tangled jungle, infested by wild beasts and serpents. He had no food and no weapons, having lost his pistol in his flight. But the lad’s inborn pluck kept him in good heart. Indeed, -he was too angry and indignant to think of anything but how to turn the tables on his foes. ‘*We’ll see who gets the tiger in the end,”’ | he muttered. ‘‘By this time Garcia and his hired traitors have made off with cage and animal. First of all, I must make a bee-line for camp. I know what Matlock will do. _ Garcia and that sneak Baba Khan will feel pretty sore before we get through with them.’’ But the very first obstacle that clogged the lad’s plan was how to get started on the bee-line. The gloom of the jungle was like that of twilight. Overhead was an unbroken sheet of matted foliage. A gray glimmer filtered through—that was all. However, after wandering about for twenty minutes, Marco found a good-sized tree. _He climbed above the foliage, and caught a glimpse of the sun. Its “position indicated several hours after mid-day. The lad knew that there was no time to lose. He had his bearings now, and climb- ae ; ing down from the tree he struck off briskly. Bae ee For hours he plodded the mazy recesses of igarea i papi |: the jungle. An occasional glimpse of the ; sun kept him from going astray. } j As darkness came on he realized that it es ; aN was out of the question to reach the camp Uae ich sy that night. The bravest of men would have hy quailed from the perils that encompassed the ad. Twilight brought the beasts of the jungle out from their lairs. The wail of a leopard was answered by a vA : tiger’s thunderous roar. * with the other? The female animal was more wary and crafty. She would probably find a way to reach her victim, and at the same time avoid the stakes. As the moon crept higher a broader light shone on the edges of the pit. The tigress was a large and beautiful animal. arco could not help but admiring her, hard pressed though he was to keep at the farthest possible distance from her huge head and paws. He slipped from side to side, always keep- ing a couple of the stakes between bien and his enemy. He tried to pull one of them up, thinking it would make him a good weapon, but it was driven too deeply into the ground. Meanwhile the rage of the tigress in- creased. She roared loud and often. A chorus*of answers came from the prowling animals of the jungle. Marco was badly scared, but not suffi- ciently so to lose his presence of mind. He watched every movement of the tigress. Now and then he made a trumpet of his hands, and shouted as loud as he could. He had a faint hope that there might be a vil- lage within hearing. All at once the tigress stopped. She squat- ted on her hind legs, and thrust her head and fore-paw over the brink of the pit—just like a great cat. Her eyes flashed fire at the lad; her double rows of ivories gleamed in the moonlight. Now she crept a little nearer. Her purpose was to drop lightly into the pit. Marco retreated behind the farthest dent. He pulled himself to his feet, and found no bones broken, His back was sore and his head ached. He was keenly alive to the pangs of hunger and thirst. stakes. Trembling in every limb, he waited the end. An irresistible fascination kept his eyes on the tigress—on the great jaws which and the last roar ended in a quaver, aj | gold. { | he felt would shortly tear him limb from limb. A few seconds went by. To the doomed lad they seemed so many hours. Just as the beast quivered for the leap a crackling of brush was heard, and a yellow light flashed over the pit. What followed seemed but a dream to Marco. He saw the tigress wheel around and vanish. He heard hoarse shouts, blended with a fearful roar. A rifle cracked twice. Another roar, and all was still. Now the flashing light approached the pit. An arm appeared, holding a blazing torch. Two dusky faces looked down at Marco. They belonged to Baba Khan and _ ‘the scrawny, evil-eyed servant of the Portuguese. Marco uttered a glad cry. At such a time the sight of even Garcia himself would have been welcome. What mattered that he was a prisoner. He had just escaped a horrible death. Baba Khan took off his kummerbund—a long silken sash—and let it down into the pit. Marco quickly noosed it around him, and was drawn safely up. The first thing that he saw was the dead body of the tigress lying a few yards away. Then he turned to his rescuers, and noted with uneasiness the sinister expression of their faces. ‘*T came near making a meal for tigers,’’ he said. ‘‘You reached here just in\time. Are you going back to camp with me, Baba Khan?’’ The Hindoo scowled, and glanced at his companion. ‘*Ff you do I will make your peace with Matlock,’’ resumed Marco. ‘‘He will forgive all when he hears how you saved my life.’’ ‘‘The sahib must die,’’ replied Baba Khan, with brutal frankness. ‘‘The Portu- guese sahib has said it. I am_ his servant now. I hate Sahib Matlock. Once he beat me.”’ The Hindoo’s eyes flashed at the recollec- tion. Marco felt a sickening thrill of horror. He realized his awful plight. There seemed no escape. Both his captors were armed. As yet, he was too weak to risk a dash into the jungle. For an instant his brain was busy. He must gain time at all hazards. ‘*How did you tind me?’’ he asked, with forced composure. ‘¢Gunpat is a jungle fellow,’’ replied the Hindoo, pointing to the scrawny native. ‘‘He has the scent of a jackal and the eyes of a serpent. The Portuguese sahib sent us on our trail. He bade us kill you, and bring back your head as a proof.’’ ‘‘Dead men betray not the croaked Gunpat, in an evil voice. written that you must die, sahib.’’ He glanced eagerly at Baba Khan, as though expecting a signal. Macro shuddered. He knew that the ruffians would do anything for greed of But life was sweet, and he hated to yield it up to this pair of hired assassins. ‘Tf you murder me your crime will be discovered,’’ he cried, hoarsely. ‘‘I appeal to you to save me, Baba Khan. I have never done you an injury. Take me back to my friends, and I swear that you shall re- ceive as many rupees as you demand.”’ The Hindoo obstinately shook his head, and Marco knew that further pleading would be useless. He drew a long breath, and glanced despairingly at the surrounding jungle. Then he nerved himself for a bold dash. But Baba Khan divined what was passing in the lad’s mind. He suddenly dropped his rifle, and seized Marco from behind, pinning his arms together. Marco, struggled desperately, and made the jungle ring with his shrill cries. But he was like a child in the grasp of. the power- ful Hindoo. He grew weaker and weaker. ‘(The rope, Gunpat,’’ cried Baba Khan. ‘*Be quick !’’ From the folds of his blouse the native produced a thin lariat of hide, with a run- ning noose at the end. arco shrieked with horror. By a pecu- liar daub of red ochre on Gunpat’s breast, he recognized him as a Thug—one of that dreaded class of stranglers who have plied their nefarious vocation in India for cen- turies. A hideous smile lighted pl Gunpat’s evil face. He stuck his torch in the ground, and approached with the rope. Marco made a frantic effort to escape. In vain! The slimy noose slipped over his head. He felt it tightening around his throat. He tried’to shout, but it ended in a choking gurgle. Crack! a red flash, and the shrill report of a rifle came from the jungle to the right. Gunpat dropped the end of the lariat, on which he was pulling. With a gasping cry, he bounded in air, clutching at his naked breast. He fell in a limp heap on the edge of the pit, and ee over. A sharp stake instantly spitted his body, but he was dead before he felt the pain. Baba Khan saw the Thug’s fate. He glanced in the direction whence the shot had come. Then he let goof Marco, and took to his heels, not even pausing to snatch his rifle. Crack! crack! two bullets whistled after him. But he ran like a madman, and van- ished in the gloom. Marco stood for a second or two in dazed surprise. Then a tall, dusky figure in a white tur- living,’’ ‘*It is 1 | ban and waist cloth bounded into the radius | of torchlight. It was the faithful Gooloo Singh. He held a smoking rifle in his hand. He embraced the lad ina frenzy of de- light, and tore the noose off his neck. ‘*Thank God!’’ cried Marco. ‘‘I can scarcely believe that I am alive, Gooloo. What a night I have had! But where are the others?’’ ‘They are encamped in the jungle at no great distance,’’ replied the Hindoo. ‘‘I will tell you all, sahib. We returned from our hunt at mid-day, having had no luck. When we heard that you had gone in search of a tiger, Sahib Matlock prepared to follow. We started shortly, and traveled until sundown. I refused to stop. I feared you would encounter danger. I came on alone——’’ ‘*You faced the perils of the jungle at night to save me?’’ interrupted Marco. “*It was nothing, sahib. Something told me to come. When I heard your cries I put out my torch and crept nearer. I saw the assassins about to murder you. I shot one, and the other fled.’ ‘*How can I thank you?”’’ exclaimed Mar- co. ‘‘ Your faithfulness saved my life.’?’ ‘*The sahib forgets the cobra,’’ quietly re- plied Gooloo. ‘‘I am always your slave. My life is yours, sahib.’’ Marco was deeply touched; but he re- frained from further expressions of garti- tude, seeing that they were distasteful to the Hindoo. He briefly told the thrilling story of his adventures, and even Gooloo’s _ stolidity gave way to unmeasured indignation. He invoked the wrath of his gods on the Portu- guese and the perfidious natives. After glancing at the tigers and the body of the vile Thug, Marco and his rescuer started for the distant camp. The lad took possession of Baba Khan’s rifle. It was a long and weary tramp. There was little danger:to be apprehended, since a blazing torch kept the wild animals off. Marco could not have traveled without assistance. Gooloo’s strong arms supported him all the way. They reached the camp oS after mid- night, and were welcomed by Matlock and his force of eight natives. Hofstein was better, but he had remained behind in charge of the main er Marco’s story roused Matlock to a pitch of fury that was foreign to his usually placid nature. He finally quieted down sufficiently to hold’ a consultation with his companions and decide on a plan of action. Marco’s hunger and thirst were satisfied, and then he fell soundly asleep ina snug corner of the tent. It was considered ad- visable to remain in camp until morning. At the first flush of dawn the little party were off, bound on an expedition to recover the stolen tiger and to punish the Portu- guese and the treacherous natives. They traveled rapidly, since it was ex- pected that Baba Khan had long since reached Garcia’s camp and put’ him on his guard. CHAPTER VI. THE FIGHT IN THE RAVINE. WO hours after daybreak the village, where Marco and his party had / stopped while the tiger trap was be- ing constructed, was reached. Here a search was made for Ram and his treacherous companiong. Matlock’s blood was up, and he wanted to punish every- body. But not one of the natives who had assisted Garcia could be found. All had probably taken service with the Portuguese. Matters now looked serious. for Matlock’s party were but eleven in number. ; The head man of the village, quite an 10- telligent fellow, was at first very stiff and uncommunicative. But a gift of ten rupees had a marvelous effect. He found a guide who knew the way to Garcia’s camp, and in less than half #2 hour he recruited a dozen natives, arm? with matchlocks and spears. He declared that the men would fight like tigers if pro™- ised a few annas apiece. ‘ This welcome addition raised Matlock ® force to twenty-two. Four of his own 14 tives were armed with rifles, as were 48° himself, Marco and Gooloo Singh. Ki In very unmilitary fashion, the savage looking band straggled out of the vileee They found the tiger trap in ruins. a here the heavy wheel-marks of the stole cage were easily followed. led fter marching steadily along a tang Ot jungle path for three hours or more, 4 ¥ 4 open space was reached, much tramp 4 m4 and scarred by fires. It was Garcia's serted camp. ; 3 “This is the devil’s own luck!’ cried Mat lock. ‘‘The scoundrel has fled.’’ tion Gooloo Singh made a careful examin@ of the ground. ‘““They have been on the march \ short time,’’' he reported. ‘‘Behold, 8° 16 Some of the fires are smoking, 4” wheel-marks are fresh.’’ ; ‘‘Then on at full speed!’’ roared Matlocl. ‘“A rupee apiece, men, if we overtake ruffian.’’ 1 For such a sum the natives wouX braved anything. They pressed alon 1 nay? g te ee. es ~o W& cr trail on a dog-trot, oblivious to heat or fatigue. Matlock felt more hopeful with every step. The much-trampled road indicated that Garcia’s party were burdened with numerous cages. Surely they could not long keep the lead. Shortly after mid-day, while Matlock, Gooloo Singh and Marco were marching at the head of the force, an evil-looking native sprang into the road sixty feet beyond them. He uttered a yell, and dashed off at full speed. Matlock hastily took aim and fired. But the fellow escaped injury, and speedily van- ished around a bend. ‘He is a spy, sahib,’’ cried Gooloo Singh. ‘*He was put here to watch. The Portuguese is not tar distant.’’ The news passed along the line, and every man girded himself for the fight. They ad- vanced at a rapid gait. Five minutes later the jungle ended on the verge of a strip of grassy plain, half a mile across. Beyond lay a range timbered foot-hills. And right in the center of the plain was a thrilling sight—a string of seven stout cages mounted on wheels. The drivers were furi- ously lashing the bullocks, and urging them to a mad gallop. Alongside and in the rear ran nearly a score of natives. Garcia’s figure. was visible ‘in front, mounted on a horse. With him were several white companions, no doubt Portuguese. ‘‘Paster! faster!’’? cried Matlock. ‘‘The rascals are aiming for the hills. We must Overtake them in the open.’’ With hoarse yells the pursuers dashed over the plain. ‘hey steadily gained on the enemy. Goolvo Singh stuck by Marco’s side, and urged the lad to be careful. _“*T won’t stay at the tail end of the fight, if that’s what you mean,’’ cried Marco, a little indignantly. ‘‘Every rifle is needed, and I know how to use mine.’’ ‘*Beware of Baba Khan and the Portu- Suese,’’ urged the Hindoo. ““Those are just the rascals I want to ™meet,’? replied the lad. ‘‘Never you fear, Gooloo, I'll be careful.”? Further conversation was impossible. The hostile bands were now within rifle-shot, and a lively fire opened. Bullets whistled Overhead, and puffs of smoke drifted over the grass. Garcia’s band fell to the rear of the cages, Which were now moving at a slower pace. _The Portuguese seemed to bear a charmed life. Though a target for countless bullets, he continued to ride to and fro. Now the enemy made a forward rush, Shooting as they came. So fierce was the Onset that Matlock’s party fell ba¢k, losing two men. A ball carried Marco’s cap from his head, 4nd grazed Gooloo Singh’s shoulder. Matlock, whose rage made him fearless, was shot through the fleshy part of the left arm. He quickly bound up the wound, and turned, with angry threats, to his followers. he panic was soon allayed. The natives fame to a stand-still, and reloaded their Weapons. But by this time the enemy were retreat- Ng as swiftly as they had come. The tem- Porary cessation of hostilities gave them the chance they wanted. They swarmed around © cages and urged the bullocks at full Peed toward the near-lying hills. th wo rupees if we overtake them,” Undered Matlock. ‘*Two rupees, men! &t me see how you can fight.”? a ith wild cheering the motley horde fol- nic eo their three leaders, not stopping to gai up the dead. Slowly, but surely, they aa on the foe. The rifles began to crack of low, heavily- a Went the wheeled cages, careening hin, Side to side of the rugged path. The gS. Were now very ‘near. str uddenly the hindmost cage hit some ob- Uction, and went over with acrash. It ‘St apart, and out leaped a huge panther. thro e beast seized an unlucky native by the ished bit the life out of him, and then van- _n the tall grass. While accident caused eee and confusion. from yt bullocks were being cut loose : © overturned cage Matlock’s party (yy CONsiderably on the foe. Mish, ¥e have them,’ he cried. ‘‘A bold low will seatter the rascals like sheep. Aim Bees and don’t waste your powder.’’ bury} oe then Garcia was seen to give of ative actions to his followers. A line j S, a VA - . r ‘ “ight and left, dozen strong, spread out to Paren, Object of this move was quickly ap- Yellowigh wore and there rose curls of thick, lin Smoke. An instant later a sheet of Matiog bacae flames was rolling toward ® enemy from “My were no longer visible, but Criag of pind the fire and smoke rang savage A ph. Tt fannepnee2 was blowing from the hills. and eo mee flames onward, and to right t - The red line advanced, consuming Ity, Ro, parched grass with amazing rapid- 8 Nativ, moment there seemed no escape. Ahic, mn °S huddled together in helpless hey w al advance was out of the question. flames if d speedily be overtaken by the they tried to reach the jungle. Marco’s stout heart quailed at such awful peril. On Matlock’s face was an expression of grim despair. Then, with a ringing shout and a gesture, he drew his companions around him. He pointed to the left, where the line of fire could be seen to terminate in a yellow vail of smoke. ‘*It’s our only chance,’’ he thundered. ‘‘We must circle around the flames. Follow me, and don’t drop your weapons. We will have these ruffians yet.’’ His voice and manner inspired confidence. Every man was at his heels as he dashed through the tall grass. Gooloo Singh clutched Marco’s arm, and aided him to run. It was a frightful race, for the issue was | hovered over They breathed uncertain. Clouds of smoke the imperiled little band. heated air and sparks. But they plunged on hopefully, guided by Matlock’s tall figure. Just whem an agoniz- ing death seemed most sure, they staggered out from the smoky curtain and waded knee-deep across a pool of water. On the farther side they paused, watched the flames race by. Then every eye turned to the plain. It was empty. The last cage was just vanishing in anarrow defile between two of the foot- hills. ; ‘*Too late!’’ cried Marco. ‘‘It will take an army to drive them from that position.’’ ‘*Not so, lad,’’ declared Matlock. ‘‘We have force enough to doit. But we must act at once, and take the dogs by surprise. They will hardly be expecting an attack now. What think you, Gooloo Singh?’? ‘‘Tt is good, sahib,’’ replied the Hindoo. ‘*Surely we will have no better chance. There is much danger, but if all can be relied upon——’’ ‘ Sicictasins BY HERBERT RUSSELL. naan EAS S nearly as 1 can recollect, it is now Ws %, upward of twenty years ago that, ~\\ having concluded some matters of —W\- business which had carried me to the Portuguese settlement of St. Paul de Loan- do, I wished to return to the United States, |}and looked about for a suitable vessel in which to take passage for home. The ship I finally selected from out of a dozen or more craft that lay in the anchor- age, betwixt Loando Island and the main- land, was a smart, trim little bark, of | about five hundred and seventy tons burden, |named the Laughing Sally. I liked her ap- ) pearance so. well that I concluded to sail in her. The skipper was a man named Bent, a rough, burly fellow, but one of the most excellent seamen that ever I came across, I went on board one hot and steamy morning, it being the day upon which the bark was to sail. I scrambled over the side, and found the scene on deck one full of life and bustle with the preparations for getting under way. There were twelve hands to the crew, besides the skipper and a couple of mates. Captain Bent received me at the gang- way, shaking hands as I stepped up the ladder; my baggage was passed over the side, and the boat then shoved off and leisurely made toward the shore. ‘‘There’s nothing to detain us now, I the chief officer. ‘‘This little draft of air ay just serve to carry us clear of Lagosta Point yonder, though I doubt much if we shall find it better than a clock calm on the open sea beyond. Get the Windlass manned, if you please.”’ ‘Ay, ay, sir,’’ answered the mate, and forthwith he bawled to the seamen hanging about forward to heave away. Very soon there arose the rapid clanking sound of the pawls rising and dropping upon the iron ruffes as the ‘huge barrel revolved, and presently the men plying the handspikes burst into the chorus of that ringing old chanty, ‘‘Hurrah, my lads, we’re home- ward bound!’’ A song is as good as ten men, says an old forecastle saw, and to the vigorous heaving of the windlass the rusty anchor was soon close up to the yawning hawse-pipe. ‘‘Let go the clewlines and man the top- sail halliards,’’ cried the skipper. The men jumped nimbly about, casting off ropes here, and dragging upon others there. ‘In a few minutes’ time the yards were hoisted, the sails sheeted home, and the wide expanse of shining canvas, began to glide stealthily through the still, greenish waters of the African port, scarcely rippling their surface, so sneaking was her passage. The light breeze served us until we had run the land into the merest film of shadow; and then, about noon, when the sun hung so fair over our main-truck that the sails cast no shadow upon the deck at all, the wind expired in a hot puff and left the sea stark smooth. This dead calm lasted through a whole watch, and it was not until within an hour of sunset that a pleasant breeze sprang up out of the south-west, filling the air with the cool splashing sound of running waters, and the drum-like roll of its own echoes pouring steadily out of the hollows of the swelling sails. The night came down about seven o’clock, very clear and dark, although the heavens were glorious with stars from, zenith to horizon, with a paring of new moon floating upon’its back like a tiny silver gondola low down to the black rim of the sea. When I went below at ten o’cleck the Laughing Sally was slipping quietly along at about five knots an hour, ‘softly heaving to the long-drawn swell. I joined Captain Bent, in the cabin, where we sat a while chatting. At six bells—eleven o’clock—1 felt not the least inclination to firn in; it was too hot to think of sleep, and the cool of the deck suggested itself as far preferable to the close, stuffy box of a sea- bedroom that had been allotted to me. ‘‘Come you along with me to my cabin,’’ said the captain. ‘‘It’s under the break of the poop, and the draft blowing in at the window out of the hollow of the mainsail makes it the airiest part of the ship.’’ He led the way to the fore end of the | Bent with | several times, think, Mr. Thornhill,’’ said the captain to | cuddy, calling to the steward to follow with refreshments, and we entered a roomy berth overlooking the quarter-deck, through the wide open door of which there gushed a pleasant, steady air. Captain Bent pitched his large-brimmed | straw hat aside, turned up the flame of the and laid open Baba ! little bracket lamp, and, motioning me to a seat, hoisted himself into his bunk, where he sat with his legs dangling over the edge. Our talk ran upon many matters, mainly nautical. We had been thus sitting and conversing for about half an hour, when the silence which lay upon the ship was broken by the low growling sound of voices outside. Captain Bent held up his hand in a heark- ening attitude, and I broke off in what I was saying. The hoarse murmur of several men talking together came in through the open door in.a subdued grumbling, but what they said I.could not catch. ‘‘Anything wrong, I wonder?’’ said Cap- tain Bent, getting upon his feet and putting down his pipe. ‘‘Outside there!’’ he cried. ‘«What’s all that talk about?’’ The figure of a seaman, clad only in his shirt and trousers, came into the doorway, knuckling his forehead, and in the lamp- light I could make out the forms of several more men drawing together into a group outside. , ‘‘What is it??? demanded the skipper of the sailor. ‘““Why, sir,’’ said he, staring at Captain a startled look in his eyes, ‘‘there’s a ghost or a sperrit, or something of the likes of that, down in tke fo’c’sle. Me and my mates have heard it talking We can’t see nothin’, but a voice keeps all on a-saying of the most skeering things.’’ ‘‘Are you sure it’s not your fancy, my lad??’’ said the captain. On this there was a half-contemptuous chorus of ‘‘’Tan’t no fancy, sir,’’? from the sailors in the background, while the man in the doorway wagged his head and an- swered : “There an’t no mistake about it, sir. I was just a-telling Mr. Thornhill as how, if so be that he’ll come forrard, he may hear it for hisself.’’ At this moment the chief officer, who had | charge of the watch, approached the berth | through the cuddy, having come below by way of the companion-steps. ‘*T’ve just stepped down, sir, to report that the men complain of being disturbed by a strange voice forward,’’ he exclaimed. ‘*So Matthews, there, has just been tell- ing me. What can it be, think ye, Mr. Thornhill?’’ ‘‘Gammon, sir, or at most some sailor with the nightmare talking iy his sleep.’’ There arose a little angry growl of dis- approval from the outside, and a voice eX- claimed : ‘“*Come forrard, then, and listen for .your- self, will ’ee??’ ‘*We know very well, sir, that there are no such things as ghosts, particularly’ at sea,’’? continued the chief, officer, com- placently, taking no notice of the inter- ruption. ‘«Still, when several men are agreed that there is a mysterious voice talking down in the fo’c’sle/ you’ll- allow there must be something in it, Mr. Thornhill.’’ ‘*Will the chief orficer come forrard and listen?’’ eagerly exclaimed the sailor in the doorway. ‘*But what is the voice like?’’ the skipper. ‘‘Sorter sperrit-like, sir,’’? answered thé exclaimed |fellow. ‘‘If you was once to hear it, I don’t Laughing Sally, transformed aloft into a reckon that you’d wamt any one to tell ye that it came from no living man.’’ ‘*Well, just step forward and give an ear for a few minutes, will you?’’ said Captain Bent to the mate. ‘‘I’ll keep an eye upon the ship while you’re gone.”’ Mr. Thornhill, with the customary quar- ter-deck ‘‘Ay, ay, sir,’? moved toward the forecastle, followed by the sailors. ‘*Will you come on deck?’’ said the skipper to me, putting on his hat, and again taking up his pipe. T at once arose, and the two of us stepped outside and ascended the poop ladder. After an absence of about five minutes the chief officer returned with nearly the whole of the crew in his wake. They came to a halt at the foot of the ladder; he sprang -up the steps and approached the spot where the captain and I stood. ‘*Well?’’ said the skipper. ‘Oh, there’s no mistake at all about it, sir,’’ replied Mr. Thornhill. ‘‘I heard the voice myself twice. What on earth it is, or where it comes from, I can’t imagine. I don’t believe in the supernatural myself, but I’m blessed if this traverse doesn’t beat all my going a-fishing.”’ ‘*Can it be a stowaway down in the fore- castle, d’ye think?’’ suggested Captain Bent. The mate shook his head. ‘*No, sir; that idea did come into my mind, but you’d only want just to hear the voice to make you dismiss any such notion. The men swear the place is haunted, and declare that they’re not going to live in + ”? ~ co ‘‘That’s right enough, sir, and Mr. Thorn- hill, there, has heard the voice for hisself,?’ exclaimed a huge burly seaman down upon the sas ed SR whom I recognized, by the , +4180 sheen of the light falling through the cabin windows, as the boatswain. ‘*What did the voice say?’’ asked the cap- tain. ‘*Why,’’ answered Mr. Thornhill, tilting his cap to scratch the back of his head with an air of bewilderment, ‘‘it first of all said that the ship was doomed, and would go to the bottom before she was up with the Line; and when it spoke a second time it croaked out that, unless we put back to Loando at once, every mother’s son of us would be simmering away down in Davy Jones’ cop- pers before many days had passed.’’ ‘*Pretty cheerful intelligence,’’ said Cap- tain Bent, with a little forced laugh. ‘Cheerful or not, it’s true,’? rasped out a most unearthly, weird voice, rising, as it sounded, from off the sea alongside. I gave a violent start. The effect of those strange hollow tones, borne to our ears upon the gentle night wind, was truly ap- palling. A murmur ran among the sailors, and they seemed to huddle closer together, while their faces, showing pallid in the dusk, were all turned toward the captain. So true is it that in moments of peril or fear men will always look to those in authority, as though feeling at such times the necessity for a leader. : ‘‘Very queer, this,’’ said the captain, uneasily, looking around him in a restless way. ‘‘There’s no mistake about that voice. But what in the name of wonder can.it be??? he added, turning to me. I was too much staggered, and at a loss how to account for the extraordinary phe- nomenon, to answer him. I was never in the smallest degree given to believing in the supernatural, and would not have hesitated secretly to pooh-pooh any man who talked to me gravely about spirits—I mean that sort of spirit which embodies the popular idea of a ‘‘ghost’’—a human shape, sub- stantial enough to be perceived, yet as im- palpable as smoke; but here was a mystery startling enough in its way, and not. to be explained by any solution that might enter the head of the most materialistic-minded man. Mr. Thornhill was the first to break the | uncomfortable spell of silence which fol- lowed. ‘*There’s something uncanny in the air this night, sir,’’ said he, pointing up at the main-yard with a shadowy arm. ‘‘See, yonder is a corposant.”’ I followed the direction which he indi- cated, and beheld a faint nebulous haze glimmering at the extremity of the yard. There was nothing in the spectacle of one of these St. E]mo’s Fires to have occasioned the smallest feeling of awe or wonder in me at any other time. I had witnessed the lumin- ous exhalations over and over again, and knew them to be caused by nothing more than the electricity in the air collected by the iron-tipped points of the spars; but coming now as it did on top of that strange voice, I seemed to find a significance in the ghostly light I had never before taken no- tice of. ‘‘The invisible shape that is haunting us does not apparently intend confining itself to the forecastle,’’ said I. ‘*Unless the bark is bewitched fore and aft,’’ exclaimed the captain. ‘*Beg pardon, sir,’’ said the hoarse voice of the boatswain down upon the quarter- deck, ‘‘but the men wishes me for to say that, to their way of thinking, the warnings of that there voice an’t to be took slight notice of. We’ve been told plain as possible to put back to St. Paul, or else we shall all go to the bottom, and who’s a-going to tell me that what we’re taking for a ghost an’t perhaps some contrivance of Providence to save our lives?’’ A little growling chorus of approval went up among the assembled seamen at this speech. Captain Bent made no reply, and during the pause which followed the boatswain’s forecastle oration, the voice again spoke. This time it seemed to float down from among the sails in clear, distinct tones, ren- dered eerie and ghostly to the ear rather by the mystery that surrounded the hidden phan- tom which was giving them utterance than because there was anything really unearthly in the mere sounds. It might, indeed, have been a sailor hailing the deck from the top- gallant yard. ‘*You may all ®stand there and stare,’’ were the words the voice spoke, ‘but I tell you this: that before many days more have gene by, the Laughing Sally will be lying ve fathoms deep. So put back, Captain Bent, put back !”’ I do not hesitate to confess that, speaking for myself, I was now thoroughly alarmed. My skepticism went for naught in the face of such an actual confrontment. The skipper recoiled with a quick start on hearing nis name mentioned, and Mr. Thornhill mut- tered : ‘*Tf it isn’t some kind of spirit, then all I , can say is that the evil one himself must be in 'it.? A gruff, agitated voice from the quarter- deck bawled out: ‘*Blowed if I like this for one! I an’t go- ing to sea in no haunted ship. Why don’t the skipper shift his helm?_ What’s the good of keeping all on when our fate’s been told us as plain as words can speak?’? Croco) There is a no more superstitious body of people in the world than sailors. Once set their power of credulity to work, and it is astonishing to. what lengths their beliefs may run. A little clamor of acquiesence arose when the seaman had finished speak- ing. Captain Bent seemed to hang in the wind. I doubt if it would have needed much per- suasion on top of that mystic message float- ing down from aloft to have caused him to order a change of course so as to bring St. Paul de Loando over the bows again, and indeed any resolution on his part not to comply with the demands of the startled sailors might easily have forced them into an attitude of open mutiny. Yet, again the voice arose, coming along now, as it seemed, in thin, reedy accents from far out upon the jib-boom end. ‘*Don’t waste time. Turn -back at once, or it may be too late!’’ Then it was that I saw the great shadowy figure of the boatswain bound forward, and lay his hand upon the collar of a sailor whom .I had noticed as standing a little aloof from his companions, gazing upward all the while. ‘It’s very clever, Bob, but it won’t wash any longer aboard, here, my lad,’’ said he. Then looking toward the captain, he ex- claimed: ‘‘Here’s the ghost, sir.’’ ‘*What d’ye mean, man?’’ exclaimed the captain, with greater bewilderment than be- fore. ‘‘Why, just this:, Bob Hurst here is a-making of them woices which sounds to be in the air, and that’s all about it!’’ A light suddenly dawned upon me. I began to see a trick. ‘*Is this true, Hurst?’’ said Captain Bent. The fellow returned no answer. The rest of the crew began to close around him, with ugly murmurings and ominous growlings. Sailors hate being made fools of, and it looked very much as, though we had been the victims of a practical joke. ‘*But how d’ye know it’s that fellow who has been talking in this extraordinary way, bo’sun?’’ demanded the captain, finding that the man himself kept silent. ‘‘Why, sir, I had my eye on him at the very moment that we heard them last words spoke,’’ replied the huge sailor, still retain- ing his grip of Hurst’s collar, ‘‘and although I didn’t see him move his lips, yet somehow I could tell that it was him who was a-doing of it.’’ Taken off his guard, the man muttered sullenly some uncomplimentary epithets as to his having been a fool. “Then you admit having done it, :do you?’’ said the captain, sharply. ‘‘T see it all,’’ said I. ‘‘He is a ventrilo- quist, and an uncommonly clever one, not- withstanding that he has betrayed himself. We have been the victims of a stupid and what bade fair to prove a very dangerous hoax.’’ I spoke loudly enough for the seamen down upon the quarter-deck to hear me. There was a little surging movement among them, and I believe they would have laid rough hands upon the culprit had not the skipper peremptorily called to the boatswain to bring him up on the poop. Forthwith the man was bundled up the ladder, and stood before us with his head hung, and his hands clasped behind him, in the attitude of a great schoolboy called up for punishment. For a little while neither the captain nor the mate could get anything out of him. But presently he said that he had lately discovered himself possessed of an extraor- dinary power of pitching his voice. There was aman among the crew, he continued, with whom he had been shipmates before, and who hated him so that he went almost in fear of his life. He would not have shipped ‘had he known. this fellow was aboard. He then admitted that it presently oc- curred to him, if he were to give vent to his ventriloquial talent in the manner I have already described, he might force the skipper to put back to St. Paul de Loando, where he would have run away. Captain Bent was re angry for a while, and threatened to put Hurst effectually be- yond the reach of any malicious shipmate by clapping him into irons and locking him up during the voyage home. Indeed, but for the boatswain’s timely dis- covery, there is no telling what might have been the consequences of this sailor’s ill- judged prank in its effects upon the minds of the crew: Mr. Thornhill said that, in his opinion, such a joke merited nothing less than the old-fashioned penalty of keel- hauling. However, the man, who was a bit of a coward, too, begged hard to be forgiven, saying that he intended no real harm, and would have confessed had he seen that mis- chief was likely to follow. Then Captain Bent, probably guessin that he would be sufficiently punished by the treatment he was pretty sure of receiv- ing from his shipmates, sent him forward; where, as I afterward learned, he was _half- drowned by both watches flinging buckets of water over him. And so terminated the mystery of that ghostly voice on board the bark Laughing Sally. ee Layers of flour on a cut will stop bleeding, > NEwsS. ‘How fo Bo Funes. latent fap Gaba EDITED BY DAVID PARKS. ——+ “A T the request of L. C. D., Boston, i Mass., N. K., Stillwater, Minn., ‘*Young Electrician,’? Columbus, Ohio, and others, we will tell you this week HOW TO MAKE AN ELECTRIC LAMP. In an electric lamp of simple construction, there are three things to be considered—the battery, the connections, and the lamp it- self. The battery is the most important element of the three, for unless it is powerful enough, and efficient, the result will be mere disappointment. The simplest, and at the same time the most effective battery for this purpose is of the trough form. It consists, first of all, of a long box, made of oak, or other tough wood, three- quarter inch thick, to be obtained at any ordinary wood-yard. This box is five feet long, by eight inches wide, and eight inches high. It is divided into ten compartments, mortised or grooved into the sides, and solidly fixed. These divisions are of the same material and thickness as the rest of the box. The mortises, or grooves, are made with a half-inch chisel, and a corresponding tongue is cut on each end of each division to fit the groove accurately. Both outer end pieces. should be dovetailed, for greater strength and resistance, this box requiring to be very strong and lasting, When made, it needs to be thoroughly treated with marine glue throughout the whole inside, and especially at all the joints and divisions, and at the bottom of each division, so that each of them shall be not only watertight, but proof against acids. Marine glue can be bought, or you may manufacture it for yourself, in the follow- ing manner. Mix: Pitch, 3 parts. Paraffin wax, 1 part. India-rubber, 4 part. in an iron pot, over a coke fire. Remember that they ate inflammable materials; there- fore work in the open air, and handle them carefully. An old pail, with a number of holes punched in it, filled with coke, and stood on four bricks, will make a very de- cent fire-place. Keep stirring the mixture till the materials are thoroughly incorpor- ated, and apply this marine glue while hot to the sides, etc., of your box. Spare no pains im this matter, as the efficiency ‘of your battery depends upon this part of the work being perfectly done. It is a good plan to steam the outside of the box before apply- ing the marine glue to the inside. Now lay in a stock of ordinary gas coke, broken fine, but free from dust, and pur- chase the following requisites: 10 Porous Pots, 614 in. by 8 in. and 1}¥ in. wide, at 12c. each. 20 Porous Tiles, 7 in. by 8in., at 4c. each. 22 Carbon Rods, 9 in. long, at 4c each, 10 Zine Plates, 54g in. by 8 in., and 1-8 in. thick, at 8c. each, 2 lbs. Bichromate of Sodium, 1 lb. Nitrate of Sodium, 1 lb. Sulphuric Acid. You will also need some good copper wire (bare, not’ silk-covered) No. 12—say about twenty yards of it—to’make the connec- tions. Cut up thirty lengths of this wire, say eighteen inches long each, twist each length yound a pencil or penholder, remove them, and keep them handy. Ten of these will have to be soldered tothe ten zinc plates, one for each plate. Any tinman will do it for you for a trifle, or you can, if you have the necessary tools, and know how to use them, do so yourself. Each carbon rod will also require its cop- per conductor soldered on, but this you should do without help. Scoop asmall hole, with the smallest blade of a penknife at top of each rod, enlarge it a trifle toward the bottom by scraping with the blade, and slightly bend round the end of the copper wire. Now melt some solder in an iron spoon, place the bent end of the wire in the hole made for it in the carbon stick or rod, and pour in the melted solder. The metal being wider at bottom than at top, cannot when cool be dislodged from the carbon, and the copper wire being bent at the end, cannot be drawn out of the solder, so that both are secure. You will have to place each rod in some jar, packing in some ¢goke, to keep it. upright while you are soldering. To insure perfect contact between the earbon rods in the battery, and also to avoid the necessity of connecting, or coupling them, it would be well if, instead of two pieces of 18 in. long copper wire (for every pair of carbons) one piece of wire 36 in, long were rolled around a pencil. It should then be taken off, and one end of the wire soldered to the first carbon of the pair, and the other end of the wire to the second. Thus securely connected, they can be safely placed in postion in the coke part of each cell. All coiled wires should be wound up in a similar manner to each other. Now take the box (or trough) with the ten divisions, or compartments called cells, and in the middle of each cell place a porous pot, so that you will have two. smaller com- partments in each cell, one on each side of the jar. If instead of the pot you have pur- chased porous tiles, you will need two, placed-about one and a half inches apart for each cell, and will cut two grooves on each side of the cell to receive them, treating these parts with marine glue as before, in- cluding the bottom, so that they shall be acid proof and will in all respects take the place of the jars. It will appear evident that it is best to purchase all your materials and requirements together, at the start, so that you may plan the measurements of the ° trough in accordance with them. For it sometimes happens that either the. pans or tiles are not quite to measure; and, if the box is made first, this entails some serious additional labor. : In each porous pot, or between each pair of porous tiles, place one zine plate. On each side of the porous pot, or tiles, in each cell place.a carbon rod (two for each cell) and pack the remaining space well with the coke you have broken up, as directed. All the zinc plates, and all the carbon rods, are now in their proper places in the trough, with their connecting wires soldered on. Leave the first zine wire free; then connect, in the manner to be described presently, the two carbons of one cell with the zine of the next. Arrived at the last, or tenth cell, you will find, on connecting the two carbons, that there is no remaining zinc to connect them to; leave this carbon end free also. The free zinc end of the battery, after the acids have been poured in, is called its nega- tive pole, and the free carbon end is named the positive pole. The zinc end is also called —, and the carbon -+, and between these two a current will circulate as soon as they are connected with the lamp. As the zinc plates get quickly eaten away by the acid solution (and also to secure a constant current of electricity) these plates should be amalgamated. This can be easily done: Buy, say, half a pound of mercury mix half an ounce of sulphuric acid with one and a half ounces of water. Tie a clean rag round a piece of wood; and, as all these chemicals are destructive to one’s clothes, while the mercury is a poison to the system, take the precaution of wearing an apron and old gloves at this stage of your work. Have a shallow earthenware tray ready, and lay the zinc plate in it. Pour the diluted sulphuric acid over the zinc to clean it, using the rag pad. Remove the acid and zine plate; pour in carefully the mercury, remembering j~hat it runs. Dip the plate in the mercury, lift it out, and let it drain. Or you may paint the mercury on the zinc plate with the ra ad, first dipping it in the sulphuric acid. ee can recover all waste mercury by taking it up with a strip of zine, to which it will adhere; then you let it drop into its proper bottle. The solutions have now to be prepared, Make a saturated solution of bichromate of soda and of nitrate of soda by adding water gradually to them in a jar and mixing well, till you see but a small quantity of crystals left which the water refuses to melt, in spite of stirring. The solution is thus sat- urated, and you might also melt the remain- ing crystals by adding a little more water; but in that case you could not tell if you have added too much, so it is better to eT on the safe side, and leave a few remaining crystals of bichromate and nitrate of soda. Next, mix these well by stirring, in 4 common jar, and add sulphuric acid slowl and by degrees, a little at a time. You wl not use all the sulphuric acid for the solu- tion, only about half a poundy or less; an on no account must the heat produced bY adding the sulphuric acid be allowed 10 reach one hundred degrees Fahrenheit; keeP the heat down to ninety-five degrees, using an ordinary thermometer by which to test it. This mixture is apt to bubble and boil and fume, and has a trick of burning stai2® in anything it touches, so you must be 0F your guard. Wear old gloves all the timé: Keep stirring the solution till it cools, a2 use it cool for the coke and carbon part ° each cell, pouring it on till it reaches 00° third from the top. Don’t overfill, or any of the liquid touch or go near the Core nections. For the zinc in the porous ae you will mix sulphuric acid one part, wate eight parts; also filling each pot or jar within a third of the top. ’ Your battery is now ready to go in é tion, but you have yet to know how to™m@ the connection and the lamp. . ¢hé To connect two wires bend one 12.77, manner of a U, and insert this U end the coiled end of the second, so that it sha be caught and gripped in the.springy bed You will find this a very efficient, tho simple method, lending itself to discon” ig tion whenever required, without the trou at of untwisting; and you will also find } the excellent substitute for terminals, 4° j27 connecting pole ends are called. ese minals are usually a kind of brass socket, which add largely to the expense po The lamp is simplicity itself, requir]? oat: clock-work arrangement to pay out “ram bon at top, and keep it at due distance | its fellow carbon at bottom, These C4! hes should be about four and one-half ate long to experiment with, The lamp is ™ an upright, which may be of wood Oia with a stand. Both lamp carbons are © of bis bare position by means of some of tbe ct * e per wire, such as is used to conne to ace ' p jp. _ Gly abet ts Oh oA: oe a Ch et i Ot Oe ee am — eee... ee ee || Se cre ae ws a Re nN re, Re eee Pe BaP? and co the lower carbon is held by the wire being twisted tightly around it, so that it will not budge; while the wire round the upper car- bon is only twisted loosely, so that, when at rest, and no current is passing, the carbon will gradually slide down through the wire till it rests on the top of the lower carbon. The reason for this will appear presently. On the side of the upright opposite to the carbons, two terminals are seen, which, as already stated, may be replaced by what we will term the ‘‘connecting twist.’’ We have now to explain the action of our apparatus. The zinc negative, or pole of the battery is first connected to one end of a small switch, the other end of which is con- nected with the lower terminal of the lamp. Leave the switch open. The carbon positive, or pole, is next joined to the upper terminal. . Now push the switch home. The current passing into the carbons of the lamp will force them apart; lumious particles of carbon will fall from the upper to the lower carbon, by degrees eating away a hollow or crater in the upper carbon, while, at the same time, the top of the lower increases in size, because of the particles falling on it. In proportion to the fall of luminous particles, and to a certain necessal y distance to be maintained between the two carbons, so is the brilliancy of the light produced. Clock-work arrangements have been much employed hitherto to maintain and regulate the distance between the two carbons, and for perfectly steady light are necessary; but it has been found possible to make the cur- rent, whilegpassing through and producing the light, do its own regulating without machinery. Itis for this purpose that the wire is wound loosely round the upper car- bon so as to just allow it to slide down. So long as the two carbons are at a proper dis- tance from each other the current causes the top wire to grip its carbon firmly; as the crater burns away, the coils of the wire Slacken again, the carbon slides down to its required distance, and is again gripped fast. And so on, without the aid of clock-work. Of course the light has a tendency to jump. The battery described, with its acid solu- tions, zine plates, and carbon rods, will pro- duce from thirty to forty candle-light power, and will remain active for about a week. Its efficiency will depend on the purity of the materials employed, the Strength of the acids, the closeness of the Various connections, and the thorough insu- lation or separation of each cell by means of Marine glue. Each one of these points re- . Quire the closest attention, or else the final result will be imperfect, for every one of these conditions reacts upon the others. At each step, as you see, there is the hecessity for thoroughness, which cannot be too much insisted on. When not in use, uncouple all the zinc Plates, remove them from the jars, wash them carefully and let them dry. This is to Prevent waste and to keep the battery in 800d working order. The zinc plates can be returned to the battery and reconnected as required. ——_ > 0» —--— THE SPANISH BULL. The bulls used for fighting purposes are a Specially selected, specially cared-for class. They are all pedigree animals. Andalusia 8, above all, the district of the bull. Here, at the age of one year, the young bulls are S6parated from the heifers, branded with t 8 Owner’s mark, and turned out loose on age plains to graze with others of their own When a year older the young bulls are 8athered together in order that their mettle of fighting qualities may be tested. One : them is separated form the herd, and cece by a man on horseback, who, by the illful use of a blunted lance, overthrows ® escaping bull, whereupon another rider Mes in front of ‘the animal with a sharper "ce to withstand the expected attack. th f the bull, on regaining his feet, attacks "a Tider twice, he is passed as a fighting is eel, _but if he turns tail and runs off, he ape’ aside to be killed or to be used in Unie ultural work. And so with each animal, fs il the whole herd of the two-year-olds Ve been tested. funere bull that has stood the test success- d. 1s then entered in the berd-book, with ae iption of his appearance, and re- and the name—such as Espartero, Hamenco, ton ® like, This process of careful selec- is f en on from year to year until the bull Proy ® years old, when, should his mettle ami; true, he is ready for the arena, and rid or i Posters appear on the walls of Mad- Whate €ville announcing that Esparto (or a ae his name is) will on such and such A go uake his first and final appearance. for died ‘warrantable’’ five-year-old bull dreg ® fighting rings costs from three hun- and fifty to four hundred dollars. ———s-- 0-o——_—____—_- é FOOTBALL IN CHINA. hinam an—‘*Me wantee play footballee.’’ footbance shee other Chinaman. how play ca en what??? Ay en we * * Danese Gkccacn to China and lickee plates and rods of the battery. Observe that CGOooDpD NEWS. 4181 {This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Form. ] JACK FERDHAM, SECOND MATE - OR, The Three Mysterious Birth-Marks. A STORY OF THE GREAT LAKES. —- *—— BY CLARENCE CONVERSE, Author of “Captured at Sea,” “Dick Oakley’s Adventures,” etc. - (“JACK FERDHAM, SECOND MATE,” was .com- menced ,in No. 255. Back uumbers can bé ob- tained of all News Agents.) CHAPTER XXV. A BOLD STAND. Get there was no time just then for —< questions! No time for explanations! : : ? The two Westerners had become so infuriated by a taste of their own sport that they did not intend to stop short of murder, and Jack Ferdham had hardly reached the side of /Park Owen before the foremost ruffian was upon the daring youth. ‘‘Stand back there!’’? came the warning cry from Park, above the general din and confusion. The sight of a friend in this emergency gave young Owen renewed confidence. Jack had seized a chair as he sprang for- ward, and raising it above his head he brought it down upon the sandy pate of the maddened Westerner with all bis strength. There was the sound of breaking wood, and most of Jack’s weapon tumbled away; though a piece which made a handy club remained. The stricken man sank to the floor with a low groan, his knife falling some feet dis- tant. One foe vanquished! But the man’s companion remained; and the rest of his friends were furious, and only too ready to.cut, shoot and knock down anybody and anything. They pressed for- ward with loud curses, and one of them sent a bullet uncomfortably close to the heads of the two battling youths. Teddy, the bartender, drew an immense bull-dog revolver from the till, and called loudly for peace and order, ‘‘or de house’ll be pulled.’ : o more attention was paid to him than would have been had he not existed. Park Owen’s warning to the crowd to stand back was heeded but little more than that of Teddy. Jack vainly hoped for the intervention of the police, and wondered if Leslie was killed. : One man dropped before him from a blow given by the man’s friends. Pandemonium reigned ! Jack’s greatest surprise—a natural one— was that so many shots could be fired with- out the utter annihilation of the party. He struck out desperately when a head was within reach, and the sound of Park’s clubbed revolver, in like occupation, came to his ears with almost studied regularity. The contest was entirely too unequal! The party of Westerners were more than a match for two youths. ‘*We’ve got to get out of this,’’ exclaimed Park. ‘tT guess you’re right.’ Jack was almost too breathless to answer. ‘*Work toward the door,’’? Park added. ‘‘All right,’? the young second mate re- turned. His foot came in contact with some of the wreck of his chair. Stooping quickly and picking up a piece of the chair-seat, Jack sent it flying toward = one large lamp which hung above the ar. The aim, though hasty, was good. A crash of glass and sudden cessation of light followed, leaving the place in inky darkness. Jack and Park could never describe how they succeeded in reaching the-doorway and slipping out in safety while the party within cursed and fought, the scene being lit up momentarily by the flash ofa revolver. The two friends only know that they did do so. : A man rose up at their feet as they were slipping across the doorstep, and Park was about to strike him. Jack recognized him as Leslie, and checked his companion’s blow. The sailor was as mad as a March hare. ‘‘T got it in the head from one of ’em, and some one threw me out,’’ he growled. ‘‘They’re a set of coyotes, and don’t know what they’re about. At another time, when they’d have the game turned on ’em, they’d take it different. ’’ The cowboy-sailor wanted to go back into the bar-room, and it was with difficulty that Jack induced him to leave the alley be- fore their absence was discovered. In this section of the town the torn gar- ments of the tiro who emerged ‘from the dark alley created no especial comment. Park turned to Jack. .*T want to thank you sincerely for lend- ing me a hand back in there,’’ he said, with leaving. ‘‘I——’’ Then he looked Jack over sharply in the light of a saloon which they were passing. ‘*Tt was only a sort of squaring accounts, ”’ was the friendly answer. ‘‘But what I in that hole?’’ Jack added. ‘‘Jack Ferdham! By all that is strange!”’ dially. presence of the marks upon Park’s shoulder occurred to him. To think that this youth with whom chance had so oddly thrown him in Buffalo should be the very person Nell had told him to find! The coincidence was a remarkable one, to say the least. ‘Then you two are old pards, eh?’’ com- mented Leslie, who had been looking on with some surprise at their actions. ‘*Not old pards exactly,’’ exclaimed Jack. He then told Leslie briefly how Park had backed him up at Buffalo, and how they had then parted, hardly expecting to meet again so soon, and particularly at the most distant port upon the Great Lakes. ‘*Park was on a canal-boat; weren’t you then?’’ Jack asked, in conclusion. Park nodded, smilingly. Leslie gave his leg a resounding slap. ‘*Well,’? was his exclamation; ‘‘before I shipped aboard the schooner I used to think that the West was the country for strange things to happen in. I’ve seen in my brief lake-sailing experi- ence, has changed my mind—rather!”’ Park and Jack were amused. ‘‘The canal-boat was sunk by a tug,’’ re- marked Park Owen. ‘‘That made her good for a stay of a month or so on the dry-dock. A propeller was short-banded, and as much as for the pay. I’ve never traveled about a great deal. The lakes are grand! No more canaling for me! About the scrape in which you found me to-night—well, I got in with one of the men of that crowd before they were so drunk as you found them. He gave me to understand that the place we were visiting was a quiet, orderly one; I found out what it was later, and then it was impossible to get out of the corner.’ ‘‘We heard the shots,’’? Jack explained, ‘‘and were afraid there was trouble of some kind in there.’’ **So you two don’t make it a practice of going to such cribs, either? Well, 1’m glad of that.”’ But Jack made no response. ; Indeed, it was not likely that he heard Park’s last remarks. He turned suddenly toward the young canaler and said: ‘‘Then you are not now connected with the propeller?’’ ‘*No >? ‘‘Come down aboard the vessel] with me,’’ starting for down the lakes in a few days. Besides, I want to have a talk with you.”’ ‘All right. I’m willing,’’ was the careless reply. he trio turned down a narrow street lead- ing to the berth of the Milkmaid. CHAPTER XXVI. PARK RECEIVES A SURPRISE. HY, I thought you were on a yacht—the yacht of that gentle- man who wanted to have you ship “2 with him at Buffalo?’’ said Park, in mild surprise, as he followed Jack over the rail of the Milkmaid and glanced up and down her broad decks. ‘‘J—a—I didn’t stay with the yacht,’’ Jack answered. Leslie regarded him with shadowy interest, and Park Owen noticed Jack’s hesitancy; but the young second mate thought that story could be told another time. the way aft. They found Captain Carroll, Avis, and Mr. Morse in the main cabin, where, after brief introductions, Jack explained partly his reasons for bringing Park aboard. Captain Carroll looked the young fellow over with interest and evident satisfaction. Then he began: ‘‘Any man whom Mr. Ferdham proposes to ship shall be taken without further rec- ommendation. When he isa friend of my that he will be a good addition to the Milk- maid’s crew. You may sign to-night, Owen. Leslie don’t leave till to-morrow; but there is a spare bunk in the forecastle, I believe.’’ Park Owen signed the necessary papers, congratulating himself on having made so true and useful a friend as Jack Ferdham. To use Park’s own expression, ‘the was nearly strapped.’? The pay upon the pro- peller had been scant, these vessels being’ able to secure nearly all the hands the the men. His present somewhat seedy appearance could quite credit it. said Jack. ‘‘We want an extra hand to take | the place of Leslie here, and we will be} should like to know is how you came to be, three years ago, a nod of his head toward the spot they were | embarrassed him, particularly when pretty Avis Carroll glanced at him. Her interest was heightened in him when Jack briefly narrated their hair-breadth es- cape from the drunken crowd. ‘*T lost a good sailor in that hole of Jim’s »? remarked the captain. | ‘‘Jim seems to have a pull, as they call it, | | And Park, having recognized him, was|/my man’s relatives. wringing his companion’s hand most cor- By the way, Mr. Ferdham,”’ | But since then what | signed ! with ber for the run here, to see the lakes | Parting from Leslie in the waist, Jack led | der second mate, that is a sufficient guarantee |. need at very little more than the board of | just the suspicion of a smile. with the police, for I could do nothing for It’s a dangerous spot. he continued, turning to Jack, ‘‘I’ve heard from Port ‘‘Not half so strange as that you should! Austin.’} be here, and that——’’ began Jack, as the | ‘* Any news of the fugitives?’’ asked Jack, eagerly. But the expression on Captain Carroll’s face told him there was no such good for- tune even before. he spoke. ‘*No, not:so much as a word,’’ was Cap- tain Carroll’s reply. ‘‘The men are at large, as yet, I’m sorry to say, and I| think it’s likely they’l] stay so. If they leave us alone, that is all we had better hope for now. I think they’ll do that.’’ ‘‘Tt won’t be healthy for them if I catch them mousing ’round,’’ said Mr. Morse. His arm was still stiff from the bullet wound it had received at the hands of the mutineers. Park Owen regarded the party witha mild, friendly curiosity. ‘*You spoke as though you had not had an entirely uneventful trip,’’ he said, care- lessly, to Jack. Those who have followed the adventurous trip of the Milkmaid from Buffalo to Duluth will appreciate Park’s surprise at hearing the story in brief from his friend’s lips, to- gether with the bits of graphic illustration pretty Avis added now and then. ‘To think that all these remarkable ex- periences could occur at this time,’’ was Park’s exclamation of surprise at the end of the strange tale. % ‘Such things as these are happening every day,’’ commented Captain Carroll. ‘ ‘Only, they do not get into the papers very often, nor come to the notice of writers.’’ “*Come into my state-room, Park,’’ urged Jack, a few minutes later. ‘‘I think I can fit you out with some of my extra clothes. It may not be the right practice for an offi- cer to be hand and glove with one of the crew,’’ Jack added, smilingly, ‘‘but you won’t begin actual service, you know, until to-morrow. Then, look out! I shall be very exacting !’’ When the two young fellows were closeted in the little-apartment, Jack nodded toward the small wash-basin in the corner. ‘‘You’ll ‘feel better if you get the dust of battle from your skin,’’ he suggested. The invitation was.a welcome one to Park Owen. Stripping off the remnants of his shirt, Park started in upon water, soap and towels with a will, never guessing that Jack had hidden motives in proffering the use of his simple lavatory. ‘‘Jack—that is, Mr. Ferdham,’’ Park ex- claimed, through the white suds, in high glee and satisfaction, ‘‘I’m in luck! VU have fifteen: dollars or more coming to me when we reach Buffalo, and that will help father to hire a hand in my place aboard the canal-boat. She’ll be allright by that time. If I’d gone back without a cent he wouldn’t listen to my sticking to the lakes. I—hallo! Do you want to take a scrub- down too, old fellow?’’ Jack had stripped back his own shirt from his shoulders, and was pressing up to the little bowl. Park moved aside for Jack. “I? No! But look here!’’ exclaimed Jack. Park turned, and his eyes followed Jack’s finger to the point it tremblingly designated upon the smooth flesh. For a moment Park was too amazed to speak. The spots upon the shoulders of each could not have been more closely identical than they were! They stood out, clear and dis- tinct, in the light of the swinging lamp of the state-room, one the exact fac-simile of the other. The eyes of the two youths met—Jack’s questioningly, Park’s opened wide with won- ‘*What—does—this—mean?’’ claimed. ‘*It is more than I know,’’ Jack answered, truthfully. ‘‘I thought you, perhaps, could tell something; solve the riddle.’’ ‘“‘Something about these marks? Why, I never thought anything about this one on my shoulder,’’ said Park, regarding his and then Jack’s in a perplexed way. ‘‘And it never occurred to me that there could be another fellow similarly marked!’’ The two friends then seated themselves upon the little berth and regarded each other in silence. “T can’t tell you how much surprised I am about this matter,’’ said Park, at length. ‘‘Rather and mother have never mentioned the marks. They have never said that there was another fellow wandering about the globe bearing the same birth-mark as I bear. I’ve never been more surprised in my life. Can we be long-lost brothers, such as the story papers tell of?’’ Park added, scru- tinizing Jack with a puzzled expression and Neither Park ex- This was a startling suggestion. ie ne Le oe HB cae 4182 GooDp There was not the slightest resemblance | between the two friends. Jack’s hair was dark-brown and wavy; Park’s was light-colored and straight; and the features of both were as widely dis- similar. What did it mean? The strange marks were the only resem, blance. Park was even more mystified than before, when, dropping against the bulkhead, Jack | told of Nell Raymond’s request that, in his wanderings, he should keep his eyes open to find a young fellow, with that mark or marks, and her assertion that the young fel- low in question would have a strange story. Nell Raymond? Park Owen never remem- bered having known any person by that name! He never even recalled having heard his parents speak the name! She was an actress, and Jack Ferdham’s mother by adoption! How did she know there was another youth marked as was Jack? She had said that this youth had a strange story! How did she know this? It was more than Park Owen felt that he knew of him- self! ‘*Why, Jack,’’ he said, with a look of be- wilderment, ‘‘I’m stumped! I don’t call my life an unusual one. Most of it has been | spent upon the raging canal. Now, if it had | been you whose life were so shrouded in mystery—so to speak——’’ ‘Well, I’m stumped, too!’’ Jack ox- claimed, frankly. ‘‘I thought you would | have something to say which would make the matter a little plainer.”’ ‘‘Haven’t you the slightest surmise as to | what the marks can identify us with?’’| asked Park. Jack shook his head. ‘Then we Shall have to content ourselves with the knowledge that Nell Raymond will | unravel the secret when we reach Buffalo?” | This whole affair was so extraordinary | that Park Owen found it difficult to realize the fact. To Jack it was much more of a reality. His life had, of late, been such a romance | that he did not look upon the case so incred- ulously as Park, even though its solution bothered him. ‘*Yes,’’ Jack said, smiling, with an air of | resignation; ‘‘we’ll have to wait until we| get down the lakes, unless you can think of | something that will clear up the mystery.”’ ‘*Which I shall never be able’to do,’’ was the positive response; ‘‘no, not if I should think for a thousand years!’? CHAPTER XXVII. ’ THE CANOKIST. A a) passed. Neither was there any light gained upon | the mystery of the marks upon Park Owen | and Jack Ferdham, the secret of which Jack ! intrusted to his friends in the Milkmaid’s cabin. Jack let the matter drop, knowing that | | the exercise of plying the paddle. Nell would tell him the whole story in a few weeks; and Park was forced to do the same, | for, although he racked his brain over every conceivable possibility, the more he did so} the more confused he became. Leslie, after bidding the boysa friendly | of the narrow thwarts or spreaders of the good-by, dropped over the side of the| light canoe; the little craft ranged up under schooner, moved away up the docks, and! the starboard bulwarks, and its owner was disappeared from the sight of his young | friends. The Milkmaid sailed at last on the down trip. The furrow in the cabin-house, made by a bullet in one of the scrimmages on the up trip, was a silent reminder, if any were needed, of the former trouble upon the vessel. And one night, as the schooner slipped gracefully through the seas of Lower Su- perior, Avis shuddered as she regarded it. She then drew just a trifle nearer to Jack. But there had been no further trouble. They had been favored with leading winds, and the trip down the great waterway promised to be a short and uneventful one. Park Owen was aft at the wheel, and the three young people chatted quite pleasantly together. F Johnson, the elder Swede, was the lookout forward. ‘“‘Something dead ahead, sir!’’ he sud- denly shouted. ‘‘Bring her up a couple of points, Owen,’’ exclaimed Captain Carroll. ‘“What does it seem to be?’’ he called out to the Swede. Jack felt Avis’ hand, which rested upon his arm, tremble slightly. * “T can’t tell why it is,’? she said, ina low tone, with a nervous laugh; ‘‘but I feel as though something were going to happen— something of an unpleasant, disagreeable, perhaps dangerous nature. I’ve felt it all along.’’ She gazed ahead into the darkness with a little foreboding shiver. Perhaps it was not quite necessary for the young second mate to put his arm about the graceful form at his side in order to encour- age the pretty girl. But Jack seemed to think this action proper; and, as it was his : / At | sible under the circumstances. OTHING further was heard of Tom} Greer or his allies, as the days of | unloading and loading the schooner | watch below, and Avis did not appear to regard it as wrong} perhaps it was permis- ‘*A canoe, with one man in it!’’ Johnson soon called back. Only a canoe—with but one man aboard! The people on the schooner’s quarter-deck settled back into attitudes of relief once more. They were startled, however, to shortly hear the hail: ‘‘Hey! vat schooner ees zat, hey! Ze Milkmait?’’ ‘*Ves—Milkmaid,’’ returned Johnson. ‘*You come up! Me come board,’’ was the rather startling response which came across the water in a strangely foreign accent. Captain Carroll rose with a muttered ex- clamation. Mr. Morse looked at him questioningly. The rest of the little party strained their eyes to catch a glimpse of the stranger. Land was at least eight miles distant. The night was comparatively overcast and foggy. The man might want assistance, though his hail did not seem one of appeal. To leeward, and a hundred yards or so from the schooner, a black object could be dimly distinguished upon the heaving waters as it rose to the tops of the larger swells. But more than balf the time the cockleshell was hidden in the hollows. It seemed a miracle that the little craft should live in the sea that was running. The one occupant of it crouced upon one knee in the bottom of his diminutive craft, propelling it with a long paddle easily and gracefully; a surprising thing to do under the circumstances, for the canoe—as such it proved to be—reared and plunged in a way rivaling a bucking bronco. ‘*Hi, dare! you vait, hey?’’ the strange navigator cried, as the schooner began to leave him behind, despite his efforts to draw alongside. Captain Carroll turned to Park. ‘‘Bring her up and give her just steerage- way,’’? he said. ‘‘One man can’t give us much trouble. I’m puzzled to learn what he wants.’’ ‘*And I,’’ said Mr. Morse. ‘*He’s a French Canadian,’’ the captain continued, while the schooner began to lose headway, and Jack, Avis and Mr. Morse watched the man bend to his paddle astern. ‘*That is clear enough from his accent.’’ ‘*He called out the name of the Milkmaid, didn’t he, father?’’ asked Avis, wonderingly. ‘*T think so. He must have recognized her form the cut of her canvas.’’ ‘*In this darkness?’? ‘“Those fellows have sharp eyes.’ Avis said no more. The canoe and the lonely stranger came into full view the next moment, giving Avis a glance at a drawn, haggard face of cop- pery hue, and two, staring eyes, which caused her to start back with a little cry of alarm. The man’s hair, which was black as a raven’s wing, hung in a heavy, tangled mass down the back of his neck. He was attired in a red flannel shirt, a pair of trou- sers and beaded mocassins. A dark object in the bottom of the canoe was doubtless a blanket thrown off during The man’s whole appearance proclaimed him as being rather more of an Indian than Captain Carroll had at first imagined. The long paddle was slipped beneath one over the rail with the agility of a monkey. ‘*What do you want here?’’ asked Blake, stepping up to the coppery canoeist. The man ignored the question completely. He glanced about him sharply. ‘*Me want ze secon’ mate—where he?’’ was his quick and eager inquiry. ‘‘The second mate, eh? Well, there he comes ’round the cabin-house,’’ answered the sailor, as Jack came down from the quarter-deck to inquire into the nature of the man’s business, in response to a nod from Captain Carroll. Ferdham was not a little surprised to hear the strange Canadian ask for him; as also were those grouped about the after com- panion-way, to wiitoh the sharp, penetrating tones of the man easily reached. © Park gave a low whistle of astonishment. The little coterie of Jack’s friends were thrown from wonder to sudden alarm the next moment, as was Jack himself. Immediately upon receiving the answer to his question, the Indian drew a long. deer- knife from his breast. The next moment he sprang toward Jack Ferdham with a horrible, blood-curdling cry, the blade glistening in the starlight! (TO BE, CONTINUED.) ————-- ~- 0. -e ONE TO THE RUSTIC, At a country fete a conjurer was perform- ing the old trick of producing eggs from a pocket handkerchief, when he remarked to a rustic in fun: ‘“‘Say, my boy, your mother can’t get eggs without hens, can she?’’ ‘*Of course she can,’’ replied the boy. NEW S. [This Story Will Not be Published in Book-Form.] manager. ‘‘What else could keep Mark A ROOTLIGHT FAVORITE: aw y ? ”? | That was a question that could not be an- | swered. Dinner was had by the company at six OR, | oclock, and by seven most of the actors ‘ were on their way to the theater. BORN TO BE AN ACTOR.| At half-past seven Leroy approached the ve star once more, | ‘*We can’t afford to wait any longer,’’ he BY MANAGER HENRY ABBOT. |said. ‘*We must fill Mark’s place.”’ : eee ‘*T fear you are right,’’ said Oldham. (“A FOOTLIGHT FAVORITE” was commenced in| And they at once set to work to make a No. 257. Back humbers can be obtained of all! shift in the company, so that Mark’s place Nows Agents.) | would be filled, and still no important ‘ orp rx character be slighted. CHAPTER XVI. ‘‘lt’s a job to do without the boy,’’ ob- THE MANAGEMENT IS WORRIED. | served Oldham. ‘‘He is getting to bea | really valuable member.’’ mattis vlctinceats 0 ve) - ARK had an arrangement with| ‘‘That’s so,’’ returned the stage manager. HIN; Frank Oldham for an extra lesson ‘‘But if he becomes dishonest, who will JLQVE in stage business, as it is called, | want him??? “Tos> for eleven o’clock that morning. | It was but a few minutes later that littl The star was very much surprised when the! Marie heard of the change in the cast of youth did not show up. Heretofore he had characters. All alone in her dressing-room been promptly on hand whenever wanted. she burst into tears, Oldham met Leroy in the corridor of the| ‘‘Oh, he must come!’’ he sobbed. ‘‘He hotel and stopped the stage manager just as cannot be so deceitful!’’ he was on the point of leaving for the! And this went to prove how much she theater. |thought of Mark. It would almost break ‘‘Leroy, have you seen Mark Dale this her heart to learn that her noble boy friend morning?’’ he questioned. ¢ | was not all she had taken him to be. ‘*No,’’ returned Leroy. | Bart Powell felt in particularly good ‘‘He was to take a lesson at eleven humor. After confining Mark in the vault o’clock, and it is now nearly half-past.’* j}under the old mansion, he and Robenstein ‘*Perhaps he has gone to the theater.’’ {had searched for more spies, but found ‘*He was to take the lesson in my room,’’ | none. 4 ‘‘Well, I haven’t seen him. Perhaps he is| ‘‘He vas alone,’’ the old Jew had said. asleep,’’ and with this suggestion the stage|. ‘‘I believe you,’’? had been Powell’s re- manager burried off. |mark. ‘‘And so long as you keep hima Frank Oldham waited a bit longer, and | prisoner we are safe.’’ then took the, elevator to the floor on which; ‘‘He shall nefer git avay from dis blace Mark’s room was located. | alife!’’? the Jew had made answer, and his He knocked loudly on the door of the!dark and hateful face had told that he apartment, and was waiting for an answer | meant what he said. when a chambermaid came along. By the change in the cast Powell was ‘*Mr. Dale is out, sir,’’ she said. ;given the place in the new play originally ‘Ah! Do you know when he went?”’ ' intended for him. Although he did not tell ‘*No, sir, but he has been gone since eight | the others, he determined to act but indiffer- o’clock, for I fixed the rooin at that time.’’ | ently, and, if possible, spoil the evening’s Again Frank Oldham was surprised. He’ presentation. He had nothing at stake, as went below once more, waited until lunch his time with the company would soon be up. time, and then took a cab to the theater. Little did he dream of the great surprise Here he: learned that nothing had been | in store for him, or of the unexpected turn seen or heard of Mark since the evening events were about to take. before. At last the curtain was rung up on the ‘‘Tt’s mighty strange,’’? remarked Leroy. | first act of the play, and in the bustle of ‘‘Tt’s a wonder he didn’t leave word of | the work on the stage, Mark Dale was for the time being forgotten. « But this will not do for us, so let us go some sort.’’ ‘‘It is a wonder,’’ returned Oldham; and he said no more. Still he could not help but think of ‘what | during those hours when the others of the Bart Powell had said about Mark. Was it | company were so anxious concerning him. possible that he was mistaken in the boy, that he was not as honest as he appeared? ‘“‘T won’t judge him hastily,’’ said Old- ham, to himself. ‘‘He may be back at any CHAPTER XVII. POWELL HAS-A STAGE FRIGHT. moment. ’’ a But the afternoon slipped by, and still 4 7 HEN Mark came to his senses he nothing was seen or heard of the youth. WA. found himself lying flat on his Nearly every one of the other actors was \V~ back on some rough and cold questioned, but all shook their heads. <0! stones. Not a soul had ‘seen Mark. Everywhere about him was pitch-dark, ‘‘Don’t you worry, papa,’’ said little | for not a single ray of light penetrated into Marie. ‘‘Mark will come back. I feel sure | the vault. of it.’’ | He found himself breathing with great ‘*But the lesson, Marie. He should have | difficulty, and at once realized that he was sent me some sort of word.’’ | gagged as well as bound, ‘*Perhaps in his hurry he forgot about it.”?| ‘I am in a fix now and no mistake,’’ he ‘*What should he be hurried about??? |thought. ‘‘This must bea cellar of some ‘‘T don’t know. But he will come back—I | kind, one withouty windows.”’ am certain of it.’’ | Though Mark was much upset by the turn ‘“You have a great confidence in that affairs had taken, he was still very thankful boy, Marie.’’ ; for one thing: that the villains had not ‘‘T have. I believe he is honest and up- | taken his life. right to the core.’’ ‘*Well, so do I. But we may both be mis- | who spied upon them, and he felt now that taken. You know what Bart Powell said.’’?|the old Jew and Powell were not above ‘Powell is a miserable sneak and does not | staining their souls with any manner 0 tell the truth!’’ burst out Marie. ‘‘I would | crime. not take his word in anything.’’ “Tf ITever get away from here I’ll make and Frank Oldham shook his head dubiously. | self. ‘‘And that old Robenstein shall not 2° ‘*Tf Mark was guilty he would not bring | free, either!’’ suspicion upon himself by leaving in this}. But to get away was no easy matter. sudden fashion,’’ insisted the little actress. In vain he tugged at the cords which ‘‘He would remain with the company and| bound him. The hempen wash-line was dispose of the jewels on the quiet.’’ strong, and refused to show ‘even the first The star’s face brightened. signs of parting. ‘‘That is certainly a wise idea,’’ he said.| ‘‘If I could only get out my knife!’’? b@ ‘‘But perhaps he is not smart enough to do | thought. that.”’ But that was out of the question. ‘*Mark is as wise as he is honest,’’ insisted After j-half an hour’s hard work, Mark Marie. managed to slip the gag from his mouth. , Her father said no more, finding it useless| This was a great relief, for it enabled bi™ to try to argue with her. Marie had taken | to breathe much more freely, and thus ™@ Ke a fancy to Mark, and it seemed that noth-|a greater effort to liberate himself. ing would shake her faith in him. Finding he could not break his bonds, he Presently an inquiry was started about | began to roll over the flooring of the vau t Powell, and it was learned that he had gone| In doing this his hand came in conté off to Alexandria to visit an old friend. with the sharp parts of a broken bottle. | d It was six o’clock when the dissolute} He cut his fingers ere he was aware, 4 0 actor put in an appearance, this accident caused a sudden thought face wore a look of insolent triumph. If the bits of broken glass would cu He was told that Mark was missing, and | fingers, would they not cut his bonds at once tossed up his head; well? to ‘*T an’t surprised,’’ he said, with asug-} ‘‘I’ll try-it, anyway,’’ he muttered gestive leer. ‘‘He has skipped.”’ himself. +A ‘*Perhaps not,’’ said another actor. He rolled the largest and sharpest bit é ‘+All right—just wait and see,’’ muttered , the bottle into a crack between the sto Powell. ‘‘He has skipped, I tell you, and! composing the floor, and then went to works the Oldhams will never see or hear of him industriously rubbing a strand of the was or their jewels again.’’ line over the sharp edge. i e This talk got to the ears of Frank Oldham It was a tedious job, but at last it b? | ‘*Why, how is that?’’ asked the conjurer. ‘ roars of laughter. ‘‘She keeps ducks,’ replied the boy, amid! and Leroy, and worried them not a little. | good results. The wash-line parted, ane ‘‘T am afraid he is right,’’ said the stage one of his hands was free. back to him and see how he was faring ' He knew that thieves often killed those . ‘*But the jewels are gone, and so is Mark,’’ | Powell suffer for this,’’ .he promised him-. He had been drinking slightly, and his | flash through his brain. t bis a eS Bee a ~ ~; @Odctoa ad Is “ee ‘ laughed the old Jew. GooDp NEw S. 4133 The rest was easy enough. Ten minutes later he stood up in the vault free so far as the use of his body was concerned. Still he was a prisoner in this under- ground chamber. He had a well-filled match-box with him, using the matches to light up the gas in his dressing-rooms and hotel apartments. Striking one of the matches, he held it up and surveyed the interior of the vault. He saw at once that it was composed of four solid stone walls. The only outlet was through’ the iron door. He shook the door and speedily discovered that it was locked and bolted from the other side. ‘*No getting out through that, even if they are not watching me,’’ he thought. ‘‘I wonder if I can’t remove a stone or two from one of the walls?’’ He lit several more matches, and made an examination of almost every large stone visible. He shook his head. Without proper tools it would be worse than useless to attempt any such task. Then he turned his attention to the ceiling, which was composed of heavy beams with boards nailed on the upper side. He could, by standing on tiptoes, just reach the beams, but the boards were be- yond him. ‘‘Tf IT only had something to stand on,”’ he thought. Hunting around the floor, he presently came across two large flat stones which were loose. . Taking these up, he placed one on top of the other. By this means he was enabled to reach the flooring above with ease. He tried half a dozen places before he struck one where a board was loose at one end. ; He pushed upon the board cautiously, and found that he would be able to raise it up were it not for the carpet above. “T’]] cut the carpet with my knife,’’ he said to himself. He was just about to follow out this idea when the sounds of voices broke upon his ear. He stopped work at once and listened. He.heard old Roberstein and Rebecca, his wife, talking earnestly together. ‘*Yah, Isaac, you must git rid of dot poy midowit delay,’’ the old hag was saying. ‘*JT vill fix him, nefer fear!’’ chuckled the old Jew. ‘Ist he safe now?’’ ‘tOf course he vas. He is pound and gagged. in der vault down shtairs.”’ ‘*Vere ist dot man?’’ ‘*He ist gone alretty.”’ ‘*Did you make a goot pargain mit him?”’ ‘*Putty goot.’’ ‘*Vot vill you do mit der diamonds?’’ ‘*T dink I take dem up to Philadelphia to- morrow or der day after,’’ replied Roben- stein. ‘‘But I vas hungry now, Rebecca. Isn’t der dinner more as done?”’ ‘‘Der dinner vas cooked dree hours ago,’’ cried the old hag. ‘‘Ton’t you know it vas nearly four o*¢lock alretty?”’ At this declaration Mark started. Four o’clock! In four hours more it would be time to go on the stage. ‘‘I must escape before the time is up. What will they think if I do not come?’’ He continued to listen, and heard old Robenstein draw up a chair to a center table. Then the old hag went out and came in with several dishes. There was a rattle of crockery-ware and glasses, and Mark knew that the pair were preparing to dine in the very room through which he had _ hoped to escape ! ‘**Too bad!’’ he thought. ‘‘I won’t dare to make a move while they are there.’’ The meal was started, and while old Robenstein and his wife ate they continued to talk, ‘*Who ist dot man?’’ asked Rebecca. ‘*Easy enough to guess dot, Rebecca,’’ ‘‘Shtop fooling me, Isaac.’’ **That’s an actor.”? **Rich, Isaac?”? ‘‘And vot you vants to know for?’’ ‘‘That’s only mine curiosity, Isaac.’? ‘‘Efery dime you vants to know apout mine Sustomers,’’ ‘Might pe I could help you mid dem, Isaac. oe) . " Efery dime you say dot, too, Rebecca.’’ es, and I vas help, too, Isaac.’’ ‘Each vomans ought to help her husband, Rebecca.” “Right, Isaac, and I haf your best inter- ests by mine heart,’’? returned Rebecca, Solemnly. ‘‘He ‘vas not rich, but Idinks he vasa 8reat actor. I ton’t know much apout him.”’ f he vas a fine actor he ought to make 4 fine sneak-thief,’? was the old hag’s com- Ment. ‘But vot ist to do mit dot poy?” R I vill tend to him to-night,’? replied old yeeenstein. “Gif me a glass of dot finé q he, Rebecca. To-day I can afford to drink er best,” Mark listened with increasing interest. He Wondered what Robeustein meant by ‘‘tend- ng to him.?? the old hag clear off the table and Roben- stein settle himself back in an easy-chair, presumably for a doze. The clock had struck five, and now it chimed out the hour of six! Wearily the minutes dragged to Mark, standing on the stones, knife in hand, watch- ing for a chance to make a dash for liberty. At last he heard Rebecca come into the room once more. ‘*Isaac! Isaac!’?’ she called. ‘*Vot ist it, Rebecca?’’ and the old Jew leaped to his feet. “Old Bummermann door.’’ ‘*Goot! I vas dinking to see him! him in der office. minute,’’ The old hag left the dining-room, and presently old Robenstein followed. Now was Mark’s chance! With great caution he raised up the loose board for several inches, and taking the sharpest blade of his knife, ran it along the carpet above. The carpet was thin and worn, and the knife cut-a long slit in it easily. Pocketing the blade, the youth grasped the flooring above, and with a great effort mapaged to draw himself up through the opening into the dining-room. Then the board was allowed to drop into place, the carpet was smoothed out, and a rug lying near was pulled over the slit. ‘*Now if I can only get out without being seen so much the better,’’ thought Mark. ‘*T must inform the police before Robenstein has a chance to escape.’’ The dining-room had two windows looking out upon one side of a broad alley-way. The windows were closed, but the youth had no difficulty in opening one of them. He was about to drop out when a footstep sounded just outside of the room. There was no time to be lost. Quick asa flash, he leaped out, and closed the window from the outside. He crouched down low, so that he might not be seen. His exit from the old mansion had not been noticed, and a few seconds later he breathed with more freedom. He made his way in the neighborhood of the street, but here had to pause again, for Robenstein had come out with the man who had just called. The two talked in the alley- way for some time. It was long after seven o’clock when Mark finally found himself free from observation. He was in a strange neighborhood, and it was with some difficulty that he inquired his way to the theater, without stopping to in- form the police concerning Robenstein and the Jew’s method of doing business. When he finally reached the. place of amusement he learned that the first act was already on. ‘‘Where in the world have you been?’’ asked Leroy. ‘*T’}] tell you later,’’ cried Mark. ‘‘Where is Powell??’ ‘*On the stage.’’ ‘“Indeed! Come with me,’’ and off dashed Mark to the nearest wing. Wondering what was up, the stage man- ager followed him. At first Poweli did not see the youth. But presently, just as he was finishing a long speech, he turned toward the wing and caught sight of Mark. He was all but paralyzed by the sight. His lower jaw dropped, and with wide open mouth he stared at Mark as if the boy was a ghost. His last line remained unspoken—the words were entirely forgotten, and in some confusion the dishonest actor turned and fairly fled from the stage. ist at der front Take I vill pe dare in von CHAPTER XVIII. MARK MEETS AN OLD ENEMY. 1 HAT’S the meaning of all this?’’ WY\% demanded Frank Oldham, who \ just then came up. 7 ‘Stop Powell!’’ cried Mark. ‘‘Stop him before he has a chance to run away !’” i Mark’s warning came none too soon, for Powell had caught up a long ulster belong- ing to a fellow actor, and enveloped in this, had started toward a rear exit. Leroy and Oldham dashed after the fellow and caught him before he had taken a dozen steps. ‘*That’s all right—I was just going out for a drink,’’ muttered Powell. ‘‘He was going to run away,’’ rejoined Mark. ‘‘Had he once reached outside you would never have seen him again.’’ ‘“You must be crazy, boy!’’ blustered Powell. ‘*What makes you think he was going to run away?’’ asked Oldham, while now, that the first act was finished, a crowd of actors and actresses collected about the group. ‘‘Because he knows I am here to expose him,’’ replied Mark. ‘‘He stole the jewels, and I am here to prove it.’? © ‘‘There! I said Mark was innocent!’’ burst in little Marie, joyfully. a a Means me no good, that is certain,’’ Ought. ‘I must make good my escape &ny cost.’? ] °ng time, and when it was over Mark heard he dirner in the room above lasted for a sternly. ‘*He is talking nonsense !’’ growled Powell. ‘*He can prove nothing,’’ ‘*Keep quiet, Powell!’’ ordered the star, ‘*Mark, tell us your story.”’ And while several held the dishonest actor so he could not escape, our hero related what had happened from the time he had first started to follow Powell early in the morning. He was listened to with breathless interest, and when he had finished no one present doubted that he had told the exact truth. Without delay, the police were called in, and Powell was handed over into their charge. Another change was made in the cast, and then Mark hurried off with the officers of the law to old Robenstein’s home. Without ceremony, the front door was forced in after Rebecca’s refusal to allow them to enter. A search of the house was made, and the old Jew was found in a compartment of the cellar, trying vainly to conceal a quantity of stolen goods. Robenstein was terribly frightened when confronted by Mark, and in the midst of his alarm he promised to tell everything if the | law would only be easy with him. He led the way to the secret safe he had mentioned, and here were found all of «the jewels Bart Powell had stolen, wrapped up in a bit of heavy paper. The paper con- tained Powell’s name, and this in itself was evidence against the downfe llen actor. Robenstein was taken to jail and the house locked up. In some mysterious man- ner ‘Rebecca managed to escape. No one ever found out what became of her. The recovery of the jewels by the police created a sensation, and now the news- papers, assured that the case was a genuine ; one, devoted columns of their space to tell- ing the particulars. In each of the articles Mark was spoken of as a young actor- detective, and complimented on his shrewd- ness and bravery. ‘*You’re getting to be more and more of a hero every day,’’ said Frank Oldham. ‘*Forgive me for having ever suspected you of any wrong doing.’’ And from that hour forth the star and Mark were the warmest of friends. And Leroy also was ready to *‘back’’ Mark in everything he said and done. A little over a week. later the company left Washington, and went to Harrisburg. Before that time Powell was tried, and on the strength of Mark’s testimony and Roben- stein’s, was sentenced to several years in prison. The Jew, having turned State’s evi- dence, was allowed to go, and he lost no time in quitting Washington, never to re- turn. It was now growing colder, and on the trip to Harrisburg the company encountered the first snow-storm of the season. While in Washington Mark received a letter from his one boy friend in New York. It contained no news of importance, except- ing the statement that Jason Neville had left the metropolis, and no one seemed to kuow where he had gone. This mystified Mark greatly. He wondered if the old lawyer was going to take this means of defrauding him out of the money still due him. ‘+ > —____ THE BLUNDERS OF SUNDAY-SCHOOL SCHOLARS. ; The mistakes sometimes made by young Sunday-school scholars are ludicrous in the extreme, and the answers given frequently show the most amusing originality. Many years ago, a little boy was asked by his teacher if he knew who made the world. Now, this little boy knew that the builder of the principal chapel in the place was a Mr. Williams, father of a fellow scholar, and therefore replied, with the fullest con- fidence, that “it was the father of Mar- garet Williams who built the world.’’ Another was asked if he knew who was the first man. ‘*My father,’’ was the prompt reply. ‘“*Oh, no,’’ said the teacher. ‘‘The first man was named Adam.’’ ‘“‘Well,’? retorted the precocious young- ster, ‘‘my father was the first man J ever knew, anyway.”’ A class being asked how many sons Noah had, a little boy immediately cried out: **One, sir.”’ ‘‘No, my boy,’’ said the teacher; ‘‘Noah had three sons.’’ ‘‘Three?’’ exclaimed the boy. ‘‘ Why, Noah Gregg an’t never had more than one, and he’s alive now, and is courting Seth Jones’ sister.’’ A gentleman on inquiring the name of the young hero who killed a giant, was aston- ished to hear the answer: ‘Jack, the Giant Killer, and he climbed a beanstalk to get at him, sir.’’ A minister, explaining the principle of eturning good for evil, asked a youngster what be would do if his companion struck him a blow. ‘Why, sir,’’ replied the boy, ‘‘I guess I’d punch his head till he squealed.”’ Another little demon, when asked what he would do if he saw his enemy on the point of drowning, shocked the interrogator by replying: ‘“‘T would keep him under water till no more bubbles came up.”’ A Jad being asked at a Sunday-school tea meeting if he could eata little more, assured the inquirer that he thought he could if he stood up. : Another lad who had heard the remark that money is the root of all evil, observed to a schoolmate that the teacher, ‘‘needn’t say so much against evil, as he is precious fond of the root of it, anyway.”’ ——__ > + +» —_____ IT WOULD DO HIM NO GOOD. A certain doctor has to bear the banter of his medical friends on account of a natural mistake that he made recently. e patient called to be treated for a severe cold. He described his troubles at length, and the doctor advised him to go home and soak his feet in hot water. ‘ -+ + —____—_- HE WAS GLAD. Little Boy—‘‘That ink that papa writes with isn’t very black, is it???’ Mother—‘‘No; it’s 'been watered a good deal.’’ ‘I’m glad of that.’’ “Wh 9?) “I’ve spilled it all over the carpet.’’ } inside of the tent was the colored imbecile AT THE CIRCUS. BY PAUL PRY. “(QDUDGING from the amount of ques- AWN tioning my boy Willie indulges in, the Sy) greater part of his youthful cranium must be covered by a bump of in- quisitiveness. As the circus season is again upon us, I am reminded of an experience I had when one came out our way last summer, and I took Willie to see the show. Of course the boy took his head with him, and our conversation during the trip may amuse you. ‘*What is that?’’ inquired the young inter- rogation point, as we neared the grounds and approached the side-show. ‘:That is a side-show,’’ I replied. ‘*What’s a side-show? Why an’t it an end- show?’? ‘*A side-show is a part outside of the large show.’’ ‘*Why don’t they take it inside?’ ‘*It does not belong there.’’ ‘*What’s in the side-show?’’ ‘*We will go in and see,’’ I replied. The first thing that met his gaze, on the who seems to be in every side-show in the country. ‘*What’s that?’’ inquired the youngster. ‘‘That is just it,’? Ireplied. ‘‘What it? That is what they call him.’’ ‘*Why do they call him that?’’ ‘*Because he hasn’t any sense.”’ ‘*Maybe he’s got a nickel, then. they pay him for being here?’’ ‘“*Oh, yes. But he is not right in the upper story.’’ ‘*What does he want to live in an upper story for if it an’t all right?’’ ‘That isn’t it. He is not all there.’’ ‘“‘How’s that? He’s got feet, legs, hands, arms, body, ‘nose, eyes, mouth, ears and head. What is gone?”’ ‘‘His intellect. He doesn’t know any- vac ‘*Why don’t he go to school and learn something? Won’t his boss let him?’’ **He could not learn anything if hé went to school.’’ ‘‘Well, if he couldn’t learn anything at the public school he must be a la-la!”’ Just then the interrogator caught sight of the Albino, and ‘he warbled: ‘‘What’s the matter with that head?”? ‘*He has very long hair,’’ I answered. ‘*Why don’t he get it cut?’’ ‘*It would ruin his business to have his hair cut.’’ ‘Oh! Yes, I guess a barber would charge a dollar to cut all that hair off.’’ Then the wild men of Borneo camé in for a share of the youngster’s attention, and he asked : ‘*What’s them?’’ ‘*‘The wild men of Borneo,’’ I replied. ‘‘One of ’em walks as if he had his knees tied together with a string. What makes them wild?”’ ‘*Born that way, I suppose.’’ ‘Oh! I thought they might have gone wild by having the people ask so many questions. ’’ I glanced at him to see if he really meant what he said, and saw that the expression on his face wasas solemn as that of an undertaker. The snake-charmer, juggler, glass-blower and others did not seem to arouse his in- quisitive soul, so we passed on out of the side-show, and into the tent where the menagerie was located. Here I had quite a rest until we arrived in front of the monkey cage, when the young interrogator shouted: ‘*Oh, pop! There’s an animal with a merry-go-round whisker just like old Mr. Mulcahey’s!”’ I looked, and beheld a small monkey with the hair on his, face and throat resembling the beard some men wear, which consists of a narrow strip running from. side to side of the face, around under the chin, leaving the front of the face and chin bare. We moved from cage to cage, and the youngster seemed to have exhausted his stock of interrogatives. We entered the tent where the perform- ance was about to begin. There didn’t appear to be anything start- ling enough to stir the young gentleman up to further inquiries, and we enjoyed the performance. The show being finished, we moved along with the crowd, when I was startled by my young companion exclaiming: FO. pop! There goes a man with the monkey’s whiskers !’’ The man in question turned and gave Willie a look that, if looks could kill, would have left me with a funeral on. my hands. By this time we had reached the street, when we proceeded homeward. Arriving at home, the young interrogation point resolved himself into a bureau of in- formation, and graphically described all that he had seen. 0 Snipp—‘‘I don’t believe you know right Don’t man’s GoonD NEWS. not overcrowd your window. from wrong.’’ Pipp—‘‘ Yes, I do; you are wrong.’’ SuorT FALKS —=— ‘WITH QHE Boys. EDITED BY ARTHUR SEWALL. J. L. T., Denver, Col., writes: “I am now twenty-two years, and have been employed in a jewelry store since I was fourteen. I think [ know the business pretty well. When I was twenty-one I came into possession of a few thousand dollars and am anxious to. start in business for myself. Will you please give me your advice?’ If you think the time has come for you to launch out, the first things to be considered are: For what class of the community am I going to cater? Whose wants am I going to lay myself out to try to meet? What will be the nature of such wants? And in what locality are they most likely to be found? Now, upon the answer to these questions will depend the whole of your future ac- tions, your life policy and the locality you select. There is no demand that is abso- lutely universal, and, after all, any public want is onlv something fancied by a given section of the public. In choosing your shop, be sure and _ select one in a leading thoroughfare, frequented by the class of persons to whom you wish to cater. Your window is a point.of the greatest importance. The dressing of the window re- quires the greatest care, and offers a better opportunity for the display of skill than | anything else, save the one art of selling. It has been truly said that the window is the barometer of the man within. It is the thing that has to bring you in the new customers, who are to swell up and develop your business. Let your stock be as varied as possible, and always cater for the novelty fever: For this employ a velvet covered stand, and cer- tainly some kind of window drapery. These luxuries fre rather expensive, but experience proves that their adoption more than pays. It is from this pane that you make your first appeal to the buying public, and by what you here display the public will es- timate you. When a person sees a well- arranged display of articles of good quality, he is naturally favorably impressed; if, on the other hand, he sees a wiadow crammed full of low-priced rubbish, he is discouraged from pursuing his researches further. Whatever be the nature of the goods, do Mark every- thing up with neat, rather small, plain tickets. Let the wording on your tickets be the first step to the acquisition of the all-in-all important element of success, viz., public confidence. Remember, people are in a posi- tion to get a very fair idea of the nature and value of anything, and if their eye rests upon a flagrant perversion of any well- known fact, how can confidence follow? Let your tickets themselves not only be free from fake trade descriptions, but let them show that you understand what you are selling. Never call a common thing ‘‘good.’’ If you sell a low-priced article do not state it is first-class. or unconditionally ‘cheap, say that is ‘‘cheap at the price.’” Take stock -with religious regularity, and do as much of it yourself as you can, as you then see if anything is hanging fire, and you should take steps accordingly to get it removed. Never keep old stock; it is better even to get rid of it at a loss or to break it up—do anything rather than keep it. With reference to the delicate question of profits and prices, I believe that no sensible person believes that a man sells ‘‘under cost price,’’ and it is a foolish game to try and make people believe you can. The days of extravagant prices, however, are happily gone. Take a fair medium profit.. The pub- lic do not expect you to sell ata loss. But whatever your price is, maintain it. Sell-as cheaply as you can, and especially so in the case of a leading article. You can afford to sell a really good leader at a very small profit, as it will do you good in the adver- tisement it gives you. Above all things, try to gain the confi- dence of your customers. That once done, and you are safe; but only let suspicion an mistrust enter into the minds of the patrons of your establishment, and business is an asbolute impossibility. Make your customers as comfortable as you can; don’t have an unduly high counter upon which it is painful for a lady to get her elbows. Never try to push an article which you know will be of no use to a cus- tomer, Take advantage of circumstances, but never appear to be pressing; make it come more as a matter of simple fact, or’ at most a happy accident. Never overpraise, especially second quality goods. Reserve your superlatives for the superlatives of production. Never call common things either *teood’? or ‘‘first-class;’? point out they are ‘*cheap at the price,’’ or worth the money. Show your willingness to let a person know as much as they care of an article. Never urge your opinion against that of a customer. Buyers usually have a fixed idea of what they want. Don’t call this or that charming, beautiful or pretty, and ask if they think it is, and so get at their choice. Always find out their wants, and try. to comply with them. Whenever possible, sell that which you have every reason to believe to be best for your customers. If they are absolutely wrong in their choice, do not flatly tell chem so, but rather show the merits of the opposite without at- tacking their choice. Do not be offended if a customer takes a little pains to ascertain if you are telling the truth; but, on the other hand, take the opportunity, where it presents itself, of accidentally supporting your assertions by authority. Never argue with a customer; never introduce an outside opinion on anything. If the man is preju- diced on a question, it will soon boil out; and however wrong you may think him to be, don’t try to convert him at the expense of your business. Success is therefore the outcome of three things—the possession of business tact, skill and judgment, to enable one to obtain a -thorough knowledge of public wants; a comprehensive and thorough knowledge of the goods that will supply them, and of how, where, and at what price such goods can be procured; and the ability to seize successfully every opportunity that will in any way conduce to bring buyers and goods together, expeditiously, economically and satisfactorily. Much that we have said above applies to other lines of business as well, and young men who intend to branch out for them- selves will doubtless find hints upon which they can act. C. A. M., Germantown, Pa., writes: ‘‘I would like to ask you a few questions. I am 16 years old, and weigh 98 pounds. Iam 5 feet 5 inches (in height. What chance would a boy like my- | Self stand onthe Island of Cuba? Is it true that there are numerous plantations there? If 80, do you think I could get work there? What are the wages paid? I am very fond of farm- ing, but the farms around here seem to be over- stocked with help; besides, I would like to live in some warm country, as the cold winter is very oppressive tome. Which would be the best and cheapest way of reaching Cuba? Both my parents are dead, and I am working ina woolen mill. My wages are $3 per week.” We do not think Cuba is a very good place for an American boy. The business is done on entirely different methods from ours, and, moreover, a knowledge of Span- ish is absolutely essential. There are a large number of plantations there, but with the exception of a few over- seers, the work is entirely performed by negroes and coolies. You would stand a far better chance of obtaining employment on a farm in this country, and the wages paid are much better. Even though you may like warm weather, it is almost impossible for any one but na- tives to stand the climate of Cuba during the summers, and foreigners are particularly susceptible to yellow fever, which is the scourge of the island. The best way to go to Cuba is by steamer from New York to Havana. The fare for first-class passage is about thirty-five dollars. But, best stick to your own country. A young man who cannot make a living in the United States is not likely to do it else- where. R. H. H., Marietta, Ohio, writes: “I am 17 years old, and have a great desire to become an actor. I am 5)¢ feet tall, and weigh 136 pounds. What are the chances of\a boy of my age and size of becoming a good actor, and what character and disposition ought a boy to have to be successfulin it? What would I be required to do in the start, and what are the wages paid? How would I be advanced, and is the advancement slow? What is the salary of agood actor? Do opera companies travel all the year around, or do they disband in spring?) Would you advise a boy to go on the stage or learn some trade like machinist or en- gineer? I have taken Goop News for a long time, and there is no boys’ or girls’\paper that can beat it, as far as I know, and [ have read a good many.” i We receive more letters in regard to the stage than any other profession. This is not strange, for the drama possesses a strong fascination for almost all of us, but, if we could catch a glimpse behind the scenes, most of us would be disillusionzied. An actor’s life, as we have often stated, is far from being an easy one; on the con- trary, it is one of close, unremitting toil and study. The prizes the dramatic profes- sion offers, to be sure, are brilliant ones, but how few succeed in obtaining them. The vast majority are doomed to disappoint- ment, If you should manage to obtain an engage- ment, which is not the easiest thing in thé world, you would be required to take the very smallest parts at a very mediocre salary. Advancement is slow, and only to be obtained by the exhibition. of decided you can do is generally slow in coming. Most companies disband during the sum- mer months, and the salaries, of course, eease. The season of opera companies }§ about the same as that of purely dramatic ones. We should decidedly advise you to learD some good trade rather than become a actor. Your life is far more likely to be 4 happy one. SpecraL Notice.—Many communications, improperly addressed to this department, are answered in the ‘‘ Mail Bag.’’ s talent, and the opportunity to show what ls n ls d 8 l- h a y le ut a- re sr 1e ih Te} is 1- - Mg ur id A he ot ng ve aS, d, n- oil 38, he it- re he he re to ed at m- is tic rm an ns, nt, ak ‘ame of Garvice Seely, GooDp [This Story Wil) Not be Published in Book-Form. } EE BOY: CATT TL bo KGL ING. A STORY OF THE GREAT COLORADO COMBINE. BY HARRY DANGERFIELD, Author of ‘‘The Boy from the West,’’ etc. (“THE Boy CATTLE KING” was commenced in No. 259. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents. ] CHAPTER X. ‘‘] think he will come—anyway, I hope >) SsoO.° THE CATTLEMEN’S CONVENTION. “‘Tf he doesn’t, we can settle the matter ourselves. It isn’t likely he will object--—’”’ ‘*7 don’t know. Bob McGoon, is a stub WHE annual meeting of the Great Cattle | 12 Combine, which occurred in mid-sum-| born Scotchman, and he ‘\ mer, was held in Denver, and Warren | queer notions into his head. -7* Beauchamp was again chosen presi- dent of the organization. sometimes gets If he thought he had been slighted, he might throw up his membership in the Combine and with At this meeting open war was declared on | draw.’’ ‘“‘That would be foolish of him——’’ ‘*And make it mighty unpleasant for us, as our cattle have to cross. his territory to the sheep-herders, who had lately been bothering the cattlemen in various ways, and were slowly and surely encroaching upon the territory which they considered theirs NEWS. 4185 ‘*Well, I don’t know about that. There seems to be a profit in it, and the life must be rather pleasant.’’ ‘‘Tt’s all right for those who take to_ it, but it’s.all wrong for a man who doesn’t. | There’s not much society here for a person | who may be situated fifty or seventy-five | miles from his nearest neighbor, and it may |be rather hard for a man of your years, who has always lived in the East. | must have had a strong reason for pulling up | stakes and coming here.’’ | <‘*T did, sir—I did,’’ was, the reply, but Garvice Seely did not see fit to make his reason public. At this moment a legged, squat man came toward group, rolling a chew of tobacco:in his cheek and depositing it so it would not im- pede his flow .of speech, after which he launched forth: ‘‘Say, Mr. Beauchamp, wot do yer think o’? this onery young varmint as has been stirrin’ up ther nesters and shepherds again’ us lately? They say he’s -northin’ but a blamed kid as happened to fall into old Enos Dingle’s ranch w’en Dingle passed over ther Great Divide. Why, some say ther durned rough-looking, bow- You | the little | ‘‘T’m afraid he’ll prove troublesome, though he is said to be.”’ | **As if he hadn’t proved troublesome al- jready, the varmint!’’ grated Shawnagan. |**Why, it was him as led the crawlers that | tackled Kuf Wilson an’ his men when they | was killin? the sheep as stampeded Kuf’s | drive, an’ you know who got the best of that fight.’’ ‘*Wilson was driven off.’’ ‘‘Hot foot. More’n that, ther onery | crawlers—as every one was straddle a good } critter an’ had a gun—jest follered Kuf’s boys clean to ther hole—then they drove |’em inter ther hole, by thunder! Think 0’ that! It’s enough ter make a man’s blood sizzle |’? ‘‘It is surprising, for the sheep-herders | never seemed to have nerve enough to fight before. ’”? | ‘*No more they have. And they wouldn’t | have nerve enough now ef it wasn’t fer this | yar p’ison boy as is settin’ ’em onto buy |}good hawses an’ good guns an’ learn’ ter boy shoot an’ throw ther rope. He’s at ther | bottom of it all.’ | ‘And his money will make him dangerous | —very dangerous. We’ll have to call on him and give him fair warn- by right of possession. Not only this, but the sheep-herders were join- ing with the ‘‘nesters’’ in their battle for per Sonal rights, and several ‘“*outrages’’ had been re- ported, such as the cut- ting of fences and stam- peding of cattle that Were on their way to Some railroad shipping point. Of course but one side of the matter was pre- sented for consideration, 48S no one was present to tell how the cowboys had repeatedly slaugh- tered large numbers of Sheep without provoca- tion, and had. even burned the ranches and buildings of two of the *‘shepherds.’’ When the meeting was adjourned several of the Cattle magnates sought the coolness of the open air on the upper ver- anda of the hotel, where hey could smoke and Watch the people on the Street below, while they talked over various mat- ters of peculiar interest to themselves. Three new members had been taken into the Combine at this meet- Mg, one of them being an Kasterner by the Who had lately pur- Chased the ranch known 48 the Three Star, Which adjoined that of the Cross Bar and South ork ranches. Seely was a tall, angu- .21', sanctimonious-look- ing man, with ‘‘tender- °ot”? written all over im, so he presented a qiking contrast to the yoveran ranchers with Am he was now min- ence: His face was Woroth-shaven, and he i val a black suit, with a Sng black coat, mak- 2 ho ostentatious dis- ay, although he was ®Ported to be very Ithy Wealth th he new member from Eris f i Rast was now talk- YOU SUPPOSE WRONG,’’ WAS THE ANSWER of th Miles Darlton, Y ie Double D Ranch. Darlton offered him | reach the river during dry seasons. He could smoker but he declined, saying he never | run a fence and cut us off,’ a: Although ne the cattlemen had noted that, ‘*1’d like to see him try it! exploded then 8 he did not refuse to drink now and | Darlton, getting red in the face, .‘‘We d cut Semin Seemed to have no taste for liquor, his blamed fence into a thousand pieces!’ to accept it more as a matter of can te8y among men who indulged than be- © wanted it. ay had obtained the Three Star Ranch ie who had refused to enter the €n’s Combine, for which reason this finaly ii received their enmity, and was a) orced to the wall by the powerful PSN Zation, and compelled to sell out. ‘ . . ber, bat mbine had accepted him as a’mem- better wait a while for McGoon and make sure everything is all right.’’ ‘*Well, I suppose that’s so,’’? confessed the owner of the Double D; ‘‘but I don’t pro- pose to hang around all day waiting for him. It’s mighty uncomfortable — this weather.”’ Darlton mopped his face, and.elevated his ‘ fr i Sectig he had not been allotted to any} feet to the rail. He was predisposed to be he ba as yet, although it was proposed that |.stout, and it took the most severe exercise eau aken in with Darlton, McGoon and; to keep down his flesh. Exercise and re- reaqiye2™p. To this Darlton and Beauchamp | straint in the matter of drinking were un- Ugh } is 16 had promised to be at the meet- | comfortable and crabbed. d was still expected to show up. os ‘*T presume you know very little of cattile- War Onder where that man can be?”? said raising, Mr. Seely?’’ ventured Warren Beau- Ten Beauc ; : 5 5 ; , as IC | ’ St YU 3 ar. over an eauchamp, impatiently, as he came | champ, addressing the new member & took a seat near Darlton and Seely. | * ‘‘Next to. nothing, sir,’’ confessed the | ® kn y 8 . tay - * . ‘ . * his Word y of this matter, and he ‘gave me | Easterner, in an oily voice. ‘<1, ~ %0 be present.”? ‘‘Tsn’t it rather remarkable that‘a man of 0 y ‘ Prieto.) OU Still ppect him??? asked the pro- ony your wealth should come out here and take of the Double D. to ranching?”’ ; I NOT ONLY ‘‘Which would give the nesters a chance | to taunt us with turning fence-cutters. We’d | ] : : Altho Y agreed, but McGoon was not present, | pleasant to him, and so he was usually un- i | critter’s no more’n seventeen ur eighteen | years old, but I’m blowed ef I kin swaller thet!’ | Darlton grunted, and then said: | ‘‘Swallow it or not, as you like, Ben Shawnagan, but it’s true, for I’ve seen him.’ ‘¢Ves, I believe there is no doubt of it,’’ nodded Warren Beauchamp. ‘‘Dingle seems to have left him some money, as well as the sheep ranch.’’ ‘‘Money!’’? snorted Shawnagan. ‘‘Why, an’t ye heard as how he’s. struck a mine thar on that durned old ranch? Waz-al, it’s so, an’ they say it’s a rich lead,.”’ Beauchamp straightened up with added interest. ‘*What’s heard.’’ ‘ —__—_ — THE ARTFUL SPORTSMAN. A sporting gentleman, who had the repr tation of being a very bad shot, invil some of his friends to dine with him. a Before dinner he showed them a tare painted on a barn door, with a bullet ™8 in the bull’s-eye. nd This he claimed to have shot at a thous yards’ distance. As nobody believed him, he offered ue of the price of an oyster supper on it, av@s one of his guests accepting the wage? cit produced two witnesses, whose vera could not be doubted, to prove bis 4 tion. don? Since they both stated that he had what he claimed, he won his bet. - During dinner the loser of the wager fire quired how the host had managed such an excellent shot. The host answered: at @ ‘‘Well, I shot the bullet at the doo a I distance of a thousand yards, and t painted the target round it.’’ pet So =~ A es ~ Pe ag Tas ey ee tee eee QProeta= our and nd- me am the ng, to ave of of mp, eet. our rely this ton, the ack. ‘ned t ip Wil- the reet for two at was ome oks, ure, trap the pon ting over wee Bea " Pe ela yes ae ss aes sf ~~ ea i prea tunel iahatiaiad ™, meine = CrooDp [This Story wlil not be Published in Book-Form.] In the Days of the Gladiators, OR, THE TWIN PRINCES OF BRITAIN, BY ALFRED ARMITAGE, Author of * With Crusader and Saracen.’ “IN THE DAYS OF THE GLADIATORS” was com- | menced in 251. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents. } CHAPTER XXXIV. THE REVOLT OF THE GLADIATORS. HIS strange arrival was instantly aH? recognized as a gladiator named Jura. les He was a Gaul by birth, and in his 7 ten years of servitude and fighting | under Sempronus, he had earned many laurels in the arena, and bad won the liking of his rude comrades, His body was scarred from head to foot, and the loss of his nose gave him a peculiarly ferocious appearance. Jura bad been among those who remained at the training school that afternoon, and were to take no part in theshow. Now, when he rushed so suddenly into the arena, exhibiting an excitement that was foreign to his nature, the gladiators forsook their plundering to swarm around him and ply him with eager questions. ‘*Rools that you are,’’ cried the Gaul, as soon as he could get breath for utterance. **Here you wait like a flock of silly sheep, while your comrades are flying for freedom from the doomed city. All are gone, and already the training school—thrice accursed den of slavery!—is wrapped in flames. I could have escaped with the rest, but I chose rather to see how you were faring here in the arena, and to cast my lot with yours, “*Rouse yourselves, comrades,’’ he added, With a frantic gesture. ‘‘We are no longer Slaves, for freedom awaits us. One-half tome is burning—fired by Nero’s command, the rumor goes—and we need but to stick together to fight our’ way beyond the walls. None will dare oppose us, for the people are Mad with panic and fear. At last we are justly avenged. Proud Rome is doomed.’’ It would be.difficult to describe the excite- Ment that followed Jura’s burning appeal to his comrades. The sudden hope of tree- dom stirred the gladiators to a frenzy of Madness. They yelled, and clamored, and brandished their weapons jp the air, Harl and Hamo as eagerly as the rest, Sempronus alone held alvof, knitted brows and moody face showed a Variety of conflicting emotions. His hesita- pe well nigh cost him his life, for a circle Sword blades suddenly flashed in his eyes, and a hundred fierce voices threatened him. «cq Mill the master,’? howled the mob. Soak the arena with bis blood.’’ ‘‘Sem- Pronus is either with us or against us.’’ Jown with him; we are slaves no longer.’ or an instant Sempronus calmly and sul- ing, defied the array of weapons and scowl- Peso} aces, lhen, with a suddenly-formed tome he made a gesture of assent. ac” be it,’? he cried. ‘‘I am with you, e i and soul, m¥ good fellows, 1 gloried or “pea EPO, and I will fight with you aa ee or liberty. A score of years ago I] of edie and babe in a mountain village it will b> Likely they are dead now, but Wo eh i. Sweet to see that home once more. May t} done with the arena, comrades, and Ne gods help us to strike for freedom. w) Sword and arm are ready to lead the ay,? - and his " for ave such a leader was a bit of and a bhat the gladiators could appreciate, deoisi, ®mpronus was wildly cheered for his inst thi As the moments were precious, the follow Ing he did was to quiet his unruly i ers, and marshal them in columns of Dube hasty count showed that his force Next ty within a dozen of two hundred. ition oy and Hamo were given the at- dir ina eco they badly needed. Most of Severe Juries were slight, but each had one St g¢ Sag Jura clambered into the near- the an S, and after a short search among nen ead he returned with a roll of fine ful] 0 a a golden flask that proved to be Sem ‘alernian wine, nd Pronus deftly bound up the wounds, dray en gave the young Britons a deep themrre of the wine, This strengthened Cheeks” nce, and brought a flush to their &Y mara They deelared that they could fight Pech for hours. that pitied good inspection satisfied Sempronus and back were all armed with swords heaq. ~™*ers, and he took his place at their % Cc dom, 17 Tades, we are about to seek our free- how hot. cried, ‘‘and what is before us we the Worst If we get safely out of the city Yorthw, * will be over, for we can travel ard along Balley the coast, or we may find 4 Te and th two at anchor. But between Nfron, © Walls many a peril is likely to sg fi¢h ms, and ] bid you stiek together, tchwo * Sa man. . Let liberty be our “4, and let each one of you resolve r than to return re le rat, The she to Slavery.”’ ae Sladiators received these stirring words with flashing eyes and loud murmurs of assent. Then Sempronus gave the word, NEw S. and the grim columns advanced with mar- | tial step and bearing across the arena. Night had fallen by this time, and over- | head the pall of smoke was drifting more | densely across a blood-red sky, while outside the turmoil was constantly growing louder. The amphitheater still echoed to the cries of the injured and dying, and the unfortunate animals confined in the stalls were making a | terrific uproar. Sempronus and his followers first ap- proached the gates that opened toward the west, but when they saw only a mass of flames in that direction they turned back across the arena. They passed close to the imperial gallery, and Harl left the ranks a moment to climb up to the spot where he had seen Tullius Galba and Lars Tarquin sitting. Here dead bodies were lying thick, but | the lad could find none that he recognized. He hurried after his companions, and joined them just as they were leaving the amphi- theater by one of the eastern outlets. They crossed the open space surrounding the Circus Maximus, unmolested and un- seen, and then halted for an instant on a bit of rising ground. From here the scene was one of awful and terrifying magnificence. In all directions vast and separate conflagra- | tions were spreading, and at least one-third of the city seemed to be in flames. A red glare shone on the sea of temples, domes and roofs, and a curtain of smoke, flecked with myriads of sparks, hung overhead like the shadow of doom. Above the universal roar of the frightened and de spairing populace could be heard the thun- derous crash of falling walls and columns. ‘*On, comrades!’’ cried Sempronus, lead ing the way toward a part of the city that was still free from the fiery pestilence. The gladiators dashed forward on a run, and just as they were passing to the right of the training school, which was blazing from floor to roof, a body of men were seen ap- proaching. The strangers were in shadow at first, but as soon as they reached the glare of light the flames flashed on the helmets and equip- ments of Roman soldiery. The party num bered close upon a hundred, and their object was speedily made clear when Tullius Galba and Lars Tarquin were seen to be in the front ranks. The centurion in command halted men within fifty feet of the gladiators, The latter also stood still at a signal from Sem- pronus. Lars Tarquin and Harl could see each other’s faces clearly, and they ex- changed glances of bitter hatred. ‘*You would make a worthy soldier, my good fellow,’’ cried the centurion, as he recognized the training-master; ‘‘you have his | your pupils under excellent control, and the emperor Sball hear of it. Now march them forward, and we will fall in behind. I have orders to escort you to the Mamertine Prison, where you will be quartered for the present.’’ ‘‘T advise you to summon the rest of the legion,’’ exclaimed Tullius Galba, in an audible tone. ‘Those fellows have an ugly look, and may prove troublesome. Yonder is that slave of mine, and I would not lose him for ten thousand sesterces,”’ The centurion smiled contemptuously, and then faced the training-master with a scowl. ‘“‘Did you hear my orders?’’ he cried, harshly. ‘¢Yes,’?’? shouted Sempronus, ‘‘and , thus we will obey them. On, comrades, for death or liberty.’’ So sudden and terrific was the attack that the soldiers could scarcely lift their weapons before the gladiators were upon them. The air rang with clash of steel: and brass, yells of rage and triumph. The centurion was the first to fall, his head almost severed by Sempronus’ sword. Jura’s gigantic figure and flashing weapon cut a gap right and left, and the young Britons were close behind him. They looked sharply for Tarquin as they hewed down all who came in their way. Harl saw him first, and bounded to the spot. There was a rapid parrying of blows, and then Tarquin reeled back with his elbow gashed to the bone. Before he could recover from the blow Hamo’s' sword stabbed him to the heart, and he died with a snarl of hatred on his lips, The hand-to-hand struggle lasted but a short time. The gladiators showed such in- domitable valor that the trained soldiers could not stand against them. After losing more than one-third of their number the survivors gave way, and fled in panic to- ward the barracks. With them went Tullius Galba, who had taken good care to keep out of harm’s way. Sempronus quickly rallied his followers, and formed them In columns. They were elated by their victory, and could Saadty be restrained from pursuing the foe. Ten were dead, and twice that many wounded, though not so badly as to keep them out of the ranks. Before Sempronus could give the word to advance the shrill blast of a bugle was heard, and full half a legion came on a quick trot from the barracks, This had not | been expected so soon, and the gladiators | found themselves in a_ perilous plight. | Whether they fled or stood their ground, marble | 4187 there was little chance of mination. At this critical time a remarkable event happened to save the plucky little band from destruction. While Sempronus still hesitated in perplexity, and the ranks of the soldiery were drawing rapidly near, a furi- ous commotion broke loose in the direction of the Circus Maximus. The cause of it was apparent at the first glance. The wild animals confined in the stalls, maddened by the smell of fire, had torn down the whole frame-work that opened on the arena. Already they were outside of the amphitheater—a raging troop of lions, tigers, elephants and rhinoceroses. On they came with a rush, bawling and trumpeting with fear, and bearing straight down upon the compact legion. This was more than military discipline could stand. When the infuriated beasts were within ter yards the soldiers broke ranks and fled for life in every direction. eseaping exter- CHAPTER XXXV. THE FLIGHT THROUGH BURNING ROME. HE gladiators did not wait to more. They took instant advantage of the opportunity, and at the sharp command of Sempronus they swerved to the right, and dashed after him. They were soon cloaked by the darkness of the night, and as they turned into a wide street see ~} | that opened before them they heard a fright- ful tumult in the rear—the trampling of ponderous feet, angry roars and trumpeting, and human cries of agony. ‘‘The wild beasts have fallen upon the legion,’’ exclaimed Hamo., ‘‘All the better for us,’’ replied Harl ‘*We should have perished toa man if the charge of the soldiers had not’been broken.’? ‘*T’bey will soon rally,’’ exclaimed Sem- ? | pronus, who was just in front of the lads. | But the alarming sound was not ‘We must throw them off the track, if pos- sible.’’ With this object in view, the training- master led his party from street to street in a zig-zag route, and before they were half a mile from the Circus Maximus they heard the ringing notes of a bugle far in the rear. repeated, and Sempronus expressed the opinion that the soldiers would not venture much beyond the barracks without further orders. The part of the city in which the fugitive gladiators now found themselves was ina state of panic and commotion. From two sides the flames were steadily advancing. The streets were filled with a pungent smoke, and out of the crimson glare over- head a shower of light ashes was raibing | down. All was wild shouting and confusion, and from every house the citizens were dragging furniture and valuables, and piling them on the pavements. From a distance came the incessant hum of thousands of voices, the deep roar of the flames, and the crash and thunder of toppling walls. Amid the excitement and confusion the hurried passage of the gladiators was scarcely heeded, and if any had dared to molest them they assuredly would fared ill. The desperate little band were in a blood-thirsty mood. and slain soldiers of the Imperial Guard, and well they knew the fate. that awaited them if they tailed to escape from the city. Sempronus was thoroughly acquainted with Rome, and he kept his head cool to ' | could have | They had attacked | meet the responsibilities that devolved upon | him. where foreign or imperial troops were sta- tioned, though in doing so’ he had to aban- don the hope of reaching the nearest gates. He made his objective point a gate that opened on the east side, and in this direc- tion he led his followers by as safe and direct a line as he could find. Amid jostling swarms of terror-stricken people the little band traversed street after street, now He gave a wide berth to all points | i forced | | suing, and the gladiators went northward for a quarter of a mile, with intent to de- ceive, and then they plunged back into the smoke and glare of the burning city. They pushed .rapidly on through scenes similar to those they had witnessed before, and they were often sorely perplexed to find a safe passage between the blocks of blazing houses, so fiercely was the conflagration spreading. The entire absence of soldiers showed that the military forces of the city were under perfect control. The streets were still crowded, but the gladiators attracted little if any attention. Hundreds of people were flying to the suburbs with what goods they carry, and others were still devas- tating their houses with desperate energy. Many seemed dazed and incapable of action; they stood about wringing their hands, and crying aloud. On all sides were heard furious curses and denunciations against Nero, who was evi- | dently believed to have caused the city to be set on fire out of sheer malice, or from a desire to find some new sensation of .enjoy- | ment. | ‘‘May the gods torment the emperor for- ever !’’ cried a richly-dressed citizen, as the gladiators hurried by him. ‘‘He deserves to die a thousand deaths. They say he is sitting now on the top of the capitol, watching Rome burn while he plays on his harp.’’ At this a cry of ‘‘Kill the emperor!’? arose from the crowd, and the gladiators joined in with hearty accord as they pressed on. ‘*Do you believe it is true?’’ Har]. asked, of Sempronus. ‘‘Could Nero be so wicked as that?’’ | ‘*There is no limit to his cruelty, lad,’’ | Sempronus replied, ‘‘but he usually hath an object for all his evil deeds, and I can see none for this. Nay, rather does it seem that he is innocent, or else he hath fallen into the pit that he digged for others. Look | yonder.’’ Sempronus pointed to the Palatine Hill, which was in plain view less than half a mile away. The conflagration was raging all around it, and Nero’s magnificent palace, which occupied the summit, was a swirling pyramid of flames. It did indeed appear that this fiendish crime could not be laid to the emperor, though it would have been impossible to convince the populace to that effect. The rumor had gained widespread belief, aS was |shown by the rage and resentment every- | where exhibited. But for the responsibilities of family and property that kept the citizens busy, a revolution might have overthrown the Roman Empire that night. Perils began to thicken around the gladi- | ators as they forced their way on through jostling crowds, and smoke, and sparks, be- | tween rows of blazing houses and tottering walls. Occasionally a friendly voice warned them that they were being sought by the Imperial Guard; now and then they heard the distant blare of trumpets, or saw little squads of soldiers at a distance. Twice they were within two blocks of a marching legion, but discovered their peril in time to beat a hasty retreat, and lose themselves in a tangle of noisy and crowded thoroughfares. In fact, it was a game of hide-and-seek, and that the gladiators were able to prolong it to their own advantage was due to the skill and cunning of Sempronus. They often doubled on their tracks, and crossed the Tiber no less than three times. At midnight they found themselves in the |quarter of the city that was farthest from the conflagration. Every time they had ventured near the walls they had been back by the appearance of large bodies of soldiers, and it was doubtful whether they could much longer elude their | scattered pursuers. coming so close to the raging flames that | they could feel the air grow hot, now swing- ing aside into partial shadow and coolness. Here and there, from a safe distance, they saw crowds tearing down whole blocks of houses under the orders of the civic author- ities, who hoped by these means to check the spread of the conflagration. When finally they reached the gate it was only to encounter a bitter disappointment. It was guarded by a compact body of for- eign soldiers, at least five hundred strong, and their presence here meant that means had already been taken to prevent the es- cape of the revolting slaves of the arena. Sempronus halted his followers within several hundred yards. They were eager to attack, and he had great difficulty to dis- suade them from so rash a venture. He probably suspected that the other gates were guarded in a like manner, but he let no word of this pass his lips. With a few judicious words he encouraged his comrades, and at follow him across the city to the west side. To repeat time seemed hopeless, but it was really the wisest thing to do. i last they consented to | their perilous march at such a| | Now that the fugitives} Roman blood this night. They halted for a brief rest in a partly deserted street back of the Forum, and here Harl suddenly heard his name pronounced in a sharp whisper. The voice came from an obelisk twenty feet away, and when his curiosity drew him to the spot he was sur- prised to see Rufus Metullus step out from the deep shadow. Harl’s first impulse was one of anger, and he half-lifted his sword. ‘‘Hear me firstj’’ said Rufus, in a proud whisper, ‘‘then strike, if you will. I deserve it, Harl, for Ihave treated you with base ingratitude, and I have been sorry ever since. To-night, when I learned what had happened, I felt that I could partly atone for the wrong I have done you. For three hours I have been seeking you and your comrades over the city, and now that I have found you [ have time to speak but a few words. The fire is close te my father’s house} and I must hurry back at once.’’ Harl’s face softened a little, but he looked sullenly at his companion, and did not speak, ‘‘T have news for you,’’ Rufus hastily went on. ‘‘Where I learned it I dare not tell, but it is all true. You may know that I am really sorry, Harl, when I thus put my life in peril to aid those who have shed I would prefer to had shown themselves on the east side, all| save you alone, but I suppose your brother attempts to intercept clty. The soldiers made no indication of pur- and capture them | is yonder with the rest. would likely be confined to that part of the|this afternoon, and saw what | there.’’ 1 was’in the arena happened ‘‘Unless you can save every one of my iS eee pee “fand I thank you in the name of my com- SH PRS hewn ke 4188 brave comrades as well as myself I will share their fate,’’ Harl muttered defiantly. ‘‘T was sure you would say that,’’ replied Rufus, with a sigh. ‘‘It is like you, Harl. Well, so be it. Hark now, and do not lose a word. Every outlet from the city is guarded by a large force of soldiers except the Gate of Triumph, where only fifty men are sta- tioned. At the mouth of the Tiber three large galleys, equipped with arms and stores, are waiting to carry a legion to Gaul. The soldiers are now in the city, and were to have embarked to-morrow, though the fire will likely detain them longer. The galleys have but a few men on board. ‘*And now one thing more. This news is worthless unless you and your comrades can reach the Gate of Triumph in safety. There is no time to lose, for all the soldiers in the city are trying to find you, and you know what it means if you are caught.’’ Rufus paused and held out his hand. ‘¢Am forgiven?’’ he asked, pleadingly. “‘T wish that we may part friends, and I have done all in my power to atone for the past. It is little enough, but——”’ Harl impulsively clasped the proffered hand. ‘‘T forgive you freely, Rufus,’’ he said, rades.’’ ‘*Then farewell, noble Briton, and may the gods take you safe back to your own country. I will remember you always.’’ With this Rufus slipped away in the gloom, and was soon lost to sight. (TO BE CONTINUED.) iicneenrtneoabiall pier cielo etiam [This Story will not be Published in Book-Form,] EFTILi SNAP, The Postboy of the Kanawha; OR, THE CHAMPION OF UNCLE SAM. amenpemeee Geis BY VICTOR ST. CLAIR, Author of ‘Little Hickory of the Mountain Ex- press,” ‘Zig-Zag, the Boy Conjurer,” “The Young Stone-Cutter,” etc. pieced (“LITTLE SNAP’ was commenced in No. 253. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.) oe - — CHAPTER XXVIII. LITTLE SNAP MEETS WITH A SURPRISE. Tr N the brief time he felt himself suc- I cumbing to the overmastering strength of Robin Burrnock, a thousand thoughts => seemed to flit through Little Snap’ mind. It was a moment he would never for- et. ; : Once more rallying to throw off his an- tagonist, he struggled with renewed power at the hand grasping his throat, while with the other he kept aloft the brawny arm of the outlaw, holding in its grim clutch the murderous weapon. ‘Think ye ken whup me, blast yer!’' growled the aroused robber, maddened to find himself thwarted, if but for a while, by the postboy. Little Snap was standing on the very brink of the shelf, with his back toward the recipice, and as Robin Burrnock redoubled is exertions to overpower him, he felt his footing give way and himself reeling back- ward over the chasm, Instinctively, he loosened his hold on the outlaw’s wrist, to throw out hisarm in a wild effort to save himself. In vain! With a ery of horror on his lips, he saw the knife of Burrnock descend, and at the same time he went backward over the abyss! His cry was swiftly followed by one from the outlaw, whose knife flew far into the air, as he, too, staggered to and fro on the brink. Little Snap’s fall caused him to lose his foothold, and while the postboy fell, the out- law was carried heels over head down the declivity, another yell of horror awakening the silence of the lonely scene with its start- ling intonations. alf-stunned by, the force of his fall, Little Snap found himself clinging to the edge of the shelf, with the mail-bag under- neath him. Finding he had received no serious injury, he crawled to a safe position on the rock, nearly overjoyed to find that he had really come out of the ordeal alive. It was several minutes before he could realize he was safe and unhurt, but as he finally knew; the force of his fall had been broken by the mail-pouch, and, saved from going down the rugged declivity, his life had been spared. Anxious to know what had become of Robin Burrnock, he looked down the descent to see his body near the bottom, lying as motionless as if he were dead. Tn the road near where he had left him, he saw the faithful Jack still awaiting his oming. ‘*Noble fellow !’’ he exclaimed; ‘‘I will be with you in a minute,’’ beginning his de- GOooDpD soon succeeded in reaching the highway, the mail-pouch safely in his hands. Finding the outlaw had not yet moved, he went to his side, and turning him over, saw that his neck had been broken. ‘‘Tam sorry,’’ said the postboy, ‘‘but I cannot see that Iam to blame. I was in duty bound to protect——’’ ‘*Have no misgivings over what you have done, my boy!’’ said a voice near at hand, and, turning quickly, Little Snap saw with amazement Old Solitaire at his elbow. ‘tT witnessed the whole affair,’’? declared the hermit, ‘‘but I was powerless to help you, though in another moment I should have fired a shot at whatever risk. You should thank Heaven that your life was spared.’’ ‘*It was a narrow escape, Uncle Solitaire, and at one time I felt that it was all over with me.’’ ‘‘So thought I. But now that you are safe, I advise you to ride on to Greenbrier and tell Mr. Render what has happened. The authorities will look after the body of the wretch.”’ Little Snap would fain have said more to the strange man, but the old man started back toward the Narrows as fast as he could walk. ‘*Well, Jack, nothing is left for us but to go on,’’ which he did, without meeting any further adventure until Greenbrier was reached. Delivering the mail-pouch over to the postmistress, he then sought Mr. Render, who listened with unfeigned wonder to his account of his meeting with Robin Burrnock in the Wash Bowl. ‘‘Egad, Dix! that was a tough one, but I don’t doubt your story. I will speak to Squire Moran, and we will go up at once to look after the body. You may be wanted later to give your evidence at the inquest, but I don’t apprehend you will have any further trouble. Better keep a sharp lookout though, for those hounds of Blazed Acre will be likely to pay you off for getting rid of one of their number.’’ Thanking him, the postboy returned to the post-office for the mail. ‘* Any trouble to-day, Dix?’’ asked’ Budd Grass, who seemed to divine that something unusual had been happening. ‘‘Nothing more serious than the falling of one of the Burrnock brothers down the side of Greenbrier and breaking his neck. -Mail all right?’’ ‘‘It seems to be; and judging by the size of the package, the Hollow Tree folks won’t have reason to complain this time. But you have not told me all about this Burrnock’s falling and—was he killed? Oh! how I fear those men, and I tremble for you every timé you go past. Which one was this?’’ ‘*Robin; but I can’t give’ you any partic- ulars. Good-day.’’ The postboy found the postmaster at Hollow Tree impatiently waiting for him. ‘Late again!’’ he- growled. ‘‘I wonder what the Washington chaps would say if they knowed ’bout it?”’ ithout replying, Little Snap tossed him the pouch, amusing himself while the other sorted the mail by stroking the neck of Jack and talking to the horse as was his wont. In the midst of his simple talk Shag rushed out of his office, looking uncommonly red in the face, as he shouted: ‘*No mail for the Tree again! What does that mean?’’ Looking toward the speaker with surprise, Little Snap did not know what reply to make. ‘‘Oh, ye needn’t look so innercent, ye thievin’ rat! Mebbe ye think ye can make th’ racket work ag’in, but I’ll show ye ye can’t! Where’s th’ mail ye should hev fer this offis?’’ ‘*In that sack if anywhere. That is where it should be, if you haven’t taken it out.’’ ‘*T haven’t, an’ I can prove it by th’ boys hyur,’’ pointing to the three men who had followed him from the building. Little Snap’s surprise was great, though he did not have any doubt in his mind that Dan Shag had faken out the package and was intending to bluff him down. ‘‘Mr. Shag, if you haven’t that mail in your office, then I do not know where it is, I do know there was a lot for you here, or I know at least Budd Grass at Greenbrier said so.’’ ‘*Projuce then!’’ cried the postmaster. ‘‘I can prove by these men that I haven’t taken a thing out o’ thet bag thet b’longed hyur,”’ Little Snap stepped into the office, but, of course, the missing package was not in sight. ‘*T’ll know the whys an’ whurfor’s o’ this afore dark,’’ cried the excited postmaster, closing the door with a slam. ‘‘I’m goin’ to Union Six Roads, boys, an’ ef enny one wants to know why th’ offis is shut tell ’em.’? “other lot wuz found in th’ feller’s saddle pocket, Dan,’’ said one of the by- standers; ‘‘why don’t ye look there fer this?’’ ‘OTan’t likely he’d do the same thing over ag’in,’’ replied the postmaster. ‘‘He’d be more sly this time.’’ NEWS. Little Snap did nof finish his sentence,\ for while speaking he had thrust his hand into the depths of the pocket, and finding a bundle in his grasp, he pulled out the iden- tical parcel of mail! CHAPTER XXIX. THE STRANGE HORSEMAN. MHE postboy’s surprise was genuine, 2 and had he pulled out a handful of \ gold dollars he could not have been NE more astonished, though it might have been in a different vein. ‘*Wot’d I tell yer?’’ cried the man, exul- tantly. ‘‘Needn’t look fur fer yer letters, Dan.”’ ‘‘T shall look fur an’ sharp afore this matter is settled,’’ retorted Shag, taking the package. ‘‘Ye air all witnesses to wot hes been done?”’ ‘£0’ course,’’ was the general reply. Knowing it was useless for him to say more to them, Little Snap rode on toward Daring’s Diamond in anything but an en- viable frame of mind. ‘We have got to look sharper than this, Jack,’’ he said, speaking to his horse. ‘‘There is something and some one at the bottom of all this, and I do not understand it. One thing is certain: that package was not in my pocket when I left Greenbrier. And another thing equally as certain is the fact that I saw no one after | left that post- office. Then how came it there?’’ Trying to solve this puzzling problem, Little Snap kept on toward Daring’s Dia- mond, and then to Six Roads. While stopping to have the mail sorted at the Diamond, he saw Dan Shag ride past, and he knew the postmaster was hastening on to Six Roads to spread the news of his latest trouble. ‘*T have got to keep my eyes open sharper than this or they will get the best of me yet. Push on, Jack! I am anxious to know how I shall _be received at the home office.”’ About the same crowd as usual was gathered around the office at Six Roads, and to the postboy’s surprise, nothing was hinted of his recent adventures. After supper he sought Mr. Rimmon, to tell him the particulars of his last trip, the postmaster showing greater surprise than over. ‘‘Whew! that is a‘ rough one. Those Blazed Acreites mean you the worst kind of harm, I fear. At least they will after this. You were gritty, though. Let me advise you to take a guard from this time on for at least a week.’ ‘‘T would ‘if that would end the matter, but Ido riot believe it would. The Burr- nocks would naturally keep out of. sight during that time, to begin their work as soon as I went alone, so it would only pro- long the affair.’’ ‘*{ don’t know but you are right, Dix, but it puts you in a tight box. If the Hon- orable Jason was in town I would call him for a consultation.’?’ ‘*That would do no good. He is no real friend to me, though he feels obliged to stand on my bond hecause Mr. Calvert says so,’ ‘‘Dix Lewis, you have hit the nail right on the head! In his anxiety to get a nomina- tion to Congress he is catering to every one, and he is getting into the hands of some that are going to wreck him; mark my words. ‘‘What do you propose to do?’’ ‘‘Keep on; only, I promise you, Mr. Rimmon, I won’t be caught like that again.’’ ‘‘Good! I hope you will come out at the top of the heap.’’ The following morning, as the postboy was leaving the little village of Six Roads, he was accosted by a man on _ horseback, who was a stranger to him, and who showed by his personal appearance that he had riden several miles. ‘“Young man,’’ he said, ‘‘are you the postboy of the Kanawha?’’ ‘‘T carry the mail, sir, between this place and Upper Loop.’’ ‘‘T thought I wasn’t mistaken. I want to o to Greenbrier, and possibly to a place called the Salt Works, and as the road isa strange one to me, perhaps you will have the kindness to allow me-to ride with you. I can’t promise that I shall be very good company, but I will at least be civil.’’ He spoke with an air of honesty, and he looked like a straightforward person. He was about forty years of age, and he rode a horse that Little Snap saw was to all out- ward appearances the equal of his Jack. ‘*Do you object to my company?’’ he asked, as Little Snap hesitated a moment in his reply. ‘‘If you have any suspicions of me, I won’t object to riding a little in front of you, so you can keep your eye on me all of the time.’’ ‘‘T think I can trust you, sir.’’ ‘‘Thank you. My name is Austin Goings, and Iam not ashamed to say that I ama Kentuckian, though it has been several years since I bade adieu to the scenes of my nativity. May I ask your name?”’ **It is Dix Lewis, Mr. Goings. I am afraid you will find me to be poor company, as I Little Snap had taken the pouch and was throwing/it on the horse’s back at the time. scent into the valley. Though he found this no easy task, he ‘“You can look if you want to, but you will not find——’’ ‘ have been so used to only the companionship of my horse that I must be dull.’’ ionship. ‘‘I should judge he might be fleet of foot. I am rather proud of my own horse here, and if agreeable to you, we will have a aoe spurt when we come toa suitable road,’ ‘*T never race Jack, sir, unless it is a case of necessity. His work;is hard enough with- out my adding to it by any unnecessary hard driving.’’ ‘*Good on your head, Dix Lewis! I like that kind of talk. We shall get along famously. How long have you been carry- ing this mail?’’ **T wo years.’’ ‘**Must have begun pretty young.”’ ‘*Was a little over sixteen when I made my first trip.’’ ‘*1’ll venture you are a gritty one. Ever have any trouble?’’ ‘ ——————— yi JUST THE OPPOSITE. An Irishman who was employed in an iron Works was advised by his physician to seek Some employment where the labor was less ia on account of an enlargement of the Sart. He proceeded, therefore, to set up a Small grocery, which was well patronized by 1s friends. 8 was not in the habit of diminishing his prospects of financial success. by giving the re Weight, and one afternoon, when a adnomer asked for a pound of sugar, he fare Pinch by pinch until the scale barely inn ot” inquired the customer, looking up wa ocently at his careful weigher, ‘‘phwat as it the docther said was ailin’ ye??? nlargement av the heart,’’ answered at, with pride. to} ell, thin,’’ said the customer, ‘‘it’s ihe ye were changin’ yer docther, Pat, und Wan that’s tindin’ to ye now don’t is . Stand yer disease, me b’y. Yer heart gr Settin’ smaller moighty fast, an’ it’s in at danger ye are!?’ : te READY WIT. Bismar iB ck was commissioned by the em- Yor to Of the > decorate a hero with the Iron Cross ‘ irst Class. With pe authorized,’’ said the chancellor, been that liking for playing jokes which has Offer. SO strong throughout his career, ‘‘to Crogg you a hundred thalers instead of the 4; , How : the Soldion We is the cross worth?’’ asked “ey 06 thalers,”? the in, Y well, then, your highness; I’ll take Bina. and ninety-seven thalers.’’ the pavatck was so surprised and pleased by Bi Baye ny Shrewdness of the reply, that he © man both the cross and the money. ‘ ————-- oe Chinese battles» Emperor—“Why did you lose that ‘enera] Ww. UY e- 66 § in our ay The Japanese attacked s Ww : Ih trong. 1) normed that they attacked you Rot there’ jbut thet was our rear when they PLUCK. BY ROBERT OVERTON. ace fection HEN I was a boy I attended a large boarding-school some _ distance from my home. Just before we broke up for the Christmas holi- days, I received an important letter from my father. As wellas I can, I will quote it from memory. ‘‘My dear son,’’ he wrote, ‘‘I am sorry to tell you, and-you will be as sorry to hear, | that you must not come home to spend your Christmas vacation. Your mother, Minnie, and Bertie, are all seriously ill—your little sister and brother with diphtheria. Under these circumstances, my first intention was that you should remain at Salwey House in charge of Doctor Audlem until the com- mencement of next term, but in the nick of time my friend Widdrington has come to the rescue and invited you to pass your holidays at his beautiful place. He has never seen you since you were a_ baby, and I have almost lost sight of him my- self until recently, owing to an unfortu- nate misunderstanding between us, which has only just been cleared up. Now, Mr. Byrne Widdrington is the oldest friend I have living, and for many reason I am anxious that you should create a favor- able impression upon him. He is rough- mannered, but soft-hearted, and you must try to fall in with his ways, and make him like you. He is very wealthy, and has great influence, and if you create a favorable im- pression upon him he may help you greatly when the time comes for you to start in life.’’ Then followed full traveling instructions and a lot of good advice. A liberal tip was inclosed, besides the money for my journey. I wrote a letter to Byrne Widdrington, Esquire, North Allerton. I thanked him for his kind invitation, and mentioned the day I was coming and the train by which I should arrive. 1 received a brief note in reply. He said very little except that as his place was some distance from the station he would send a conveyance to meet me. By the first post in the morning of the day on which I started I had a second letter from home, telling me that the three pa- tients were out of danger, and going on well. This, of course, put me in good spirits, which were added: to by the excitement of the long journey before me. On my way to the station I took out my father’s first letter and read it earefully through once more. I seemed to perceive more clearly than ever the importance he attached to my making a good impression upon Mr. Widdrington. 1 flattered myself that I was just the boy for the job—anyway, I would do my utmost. Well, we got off all right and speeded away north. Out in the country there had been a lot of snow, and in some places it had drifted on the track and almost blocked it. After an hour or two, I found, by con- sulting my watch and the time table, that the train was getting behindhand, and as the snow-drifts got worse, we couldn’t pick up the lost time. When at last we reached a place called Fordmead it was quite dark. A bitterly cold winter’s night had set in, with a lot of snow whirling about on the piercing wind. I was sick and tired of the journey, and longed to be indoors. I wanted to be seated in front of a good fire and a square meal. When, therefore, the conductor came into the car and explained that in conse- quence of an accident between Fordmead and North Allerton, we couldn’t get along any farther for several hours, till the road was clear again, I was, to put it mildly, savage. I made some remarks, and the con- ductor said, bt civilly : ‘‘Where is it that you exactly want to get to, sir?’’ ‘‘Mr. Byrne Widdrington’s,’’ I replied. ‘*Then I?ll tell you what I should do, sir. Of course, Mr. Widdrington’s is nearer North Allerton than Fordmead, but it isn’t more than about seven miles from this station. You let me go and get you a horse and buggy, with a steady driver, and you can be safe indoors before this train can stir an mnch;?? I thought I’d better agree to this plan, so the conductor ran off to engage a.buggy. In about half’ an hour it drove up. I treated the driver—a nice-looking young man of about twenty—and myself to a cup of steam- ing hot coffee before we proceeded on our lonely way. We were soon out of the town and into the snow-covered country. I could make out no road through the bleak ex- panse, but Jack Miles—as the driver had told me was his name—kept steadily on, evi- dently knowing where he was and where he was going. He was a fine chap, and we chatted away together very pleasantly. The night was so dark and the snow so deep that we drove slowly. “Do you know Mr. Widdrington, Jack?’’ I asked. ‘‘Kverybody knows him,’’ replied Jack. ‘*He’s good-hearted, but wonderful hot- tempered.’? He proceeded to illustrate Mr. Widdring- ton’s character. by a number of anecdotes, but broke off suddenly as the horse gave a quick shy and then stopped. At the same moment a low, deep groan startled our ears. It seemed to arise from the ground in front of the frightened horse’s fore-feet. Down I sprang, and rushed forward. I fell over something—something lying in the snow. Struggling to my knees, I groped about with my hands. Just as another groan reached my ears, my fingers touched the ‘‘something’’ from which it proceeded. ‘‘Drive. on a yard or two, Jack,’’ I shouted—but he had already taken one of the lamps from its socket, and was hurrying to me with the light in his hand. ‘‘Tt’s an old woman,’’ he cried, as he held it above the fallen figure over which I had stumbled. ‘‘There’s been foul play here,’’ he went on, excitedly. ‘‘She has been cracked over the head.’’ The sound of our voices seemed to rouse the old lady. She opened her eyes, looked at us with a startled gaze, and tried to rise. I put my arm round her and helped her to her feet. ‘*Who are you?’’ she asked, in a quavery voice. ‘*Priends,’’ said I. ‘‘What has happened?’’ We soon knew that nothing less than a highway robbery had happened. The old lady had started to walk from a distant farm-house into Fordmead. Upon reaching the spot where we found her, she had been suddenly attacked, robbed and struck. The thief had run away, leaving her where she had stumbled and fallen. ‘*What did he take from you?’’ we asked. ‘*My purse.’ ‘*How long ago was it?’ ‘*Tt only seems a minute ago, but I think I’ve been unconscious. ’’ ‘“Which way did he run?’’ “Straight up the road across the marsh,’’ replied the old lady, who seemed rapidly to have. recovered herself. So much so, that although we offered to drive her safely home she refused, and insisted on walking into Fordmead, to give information to the police, so that they might be early on the track of the thief and the stolen money. A brilliant idea struck me. I took Jack Miles a step aside, and said, earnestly: ‘‘Jack, I’m awfully anxious to make a good impression on Mr. Widdrington, and here’s a chance. While the old lady—as she’s all right again now—goes on to the town, you and I will push along up the road as fast as we can drive. *We’ll overtake the robber, collar the purse back from him, lash hini to the back of the buggy, and take him a prisoner to Mr. Widdrington’s. It’ll bea plucky thing to do, and certain to please the old gentleman immensely.’’ ‘‘All right, sir,’? said Jack; ‘‘I’m game. But we’d better take the lady’s name and address before we part company with her.’’ ‘This we did; then sprang into the buggy and drove on. The snow had ceased to fall, and the moon was now showing her light. We kept our eyes well on the alert, ahead and all around. -At last we came to a spot where four roads met. ‘‘What are. we to do now?’’ asked Jack. ‘‘He may have gone straight on, he may have turned left, or he may have turned right.’’ ‘‘Wait a minute,’’ said I, jumping from the buggy again, and trying to find a trail in the snow, as though I’d been an Indian. I struck one—I found marks of recent foot- steps leading straight on up the road. ‘*Go it, Jack,’’ I, cried, springing to his side again; ‘‘he’s not far off now. We’ve got him.”’ Sure enough, after driving about another thousand yards, we saw the hurrying figure of a man ahead of us. The fellow answered closely enough to the description of the high- Wayman, given us by his victim; as we saw when we arrived closer to him. He was carrying the very stick with which he must have struck the poor old woman. \ ‘*Now, Jack,’’ I whispered, quickly, ‘‘we mustn’t give hima chance. Drive right up alongside of him on the off side, and then give a sudden turn with the left rein, and knock him over with the shaft. Then we’ll both jump out on him.’’ Miles obeyed my directions splendidly— there’s no doubt he wasa brick. He gave the horse a sharp cut. The next moment we were up with the robber—a twist of the rein, and the near side shaft had bowled him neatly over, and I was on him before he had time to get up, Jack jumping out after me. ‘*No nonsense!’’ I cried; ‘give’ up that purse !’’ ‘*‘My purse—give up my purse!’’ cried the highwayman, who was quite a respectably dressed man, with a long overcoat and a muffler. However, I didn’t pay much atten- tion to his appearance. ‘Your purse, indeed!’’ I said, scornfully. ‘*No nonsense—we’re two to one; give up the purse, or we’ll knock you on the head this time. Now, Jack!”’ But Jack had already unbuttoned the fel- low’s coat. I shoved my hand into his pocket, and closed my fingers around the purse, which, of course, was there all right. ih transferring it to my own pocket, I had to loosen my hold on the robber’s throat. He took instant advantage of the oppor- tunity; he flung.me off with one hand, and Jack. with the other. Seizing his stick, which had fallen from his grasp as we knocked him over, he sprang to his feet and made for us. I saw that my original pro- gramme couldn’t be fully carried out; he was not the sort of chap to lash behind the buggy and carry off in triumph to Mr. Widdrington’s. However, we’d done well as it was. ‘*Bolt, Jack!’’ I hallooed—‘‘into the buggy and bolt!’’ Again we sprang into our seats, and dashed off. The thief first made a mad at- tempt to seize the horse’s head, and then to cling on behind. I pushed him off, and we rattled away. Fora time he ran after us, and even after we lost sight of him we heard him shouting. ‘*Push on—faster still!’? I said, breath- a In fact, we were both almost breath- ess. ~ “Didn’t we do it right?’’ exclaimed Jack, as his wind came back. ‘*Splendid—splendid! Oh, what an im- pression this will make on Mr. Widdring- ton !”’ e ‘*Tt will so. He’s a good-plucked one him- self, and, depend upon it, there’s nothing like pluck to please him.’’ ‘*How far are we from his house now?’’ ‘“‘Only about a mile. Yonder are the lights.’’ We rapidly covered the distance, and drove -into the grounds. I found Mr. Wid- drington a bluff-spoken, burly, jolly old chap of more than sixty. He looked just the fellow to knock you down with one hand, and give you all he had with the other. He made me very welcome, and when he heard that I had driven from Fordmead, told a servant to take Jack Miles down stairs and give him a good supper. In order that Jack might have his share of the glory, I hastened to tell the squire of our exciting adventure with the highwayman. Thad not been mistaken in my idea of the favorable impression that my conduct would make upon him. He was delighted— so much so, that he sent down for my ac- complice and gave him five. dollars. My mouth watered as I caught a glimpse of that crisp bill, and, on going through a rapid bit of mental arithmetic, I calculated that as Jack Miles got five dollars, I might make sure of ten or fifteen. Mr. Widdring- ton opened the purse, and counted out twenty-two dollars and seventy-five cents. ‘*You’re a plucky. lad,’’ said the old chap, slapping me on the back. ‘‘Nothing like pluck, my boy. You shall drive over with me in the morning to Mrs. Joskins’, and re- store her purse to her.’’ I finished the particular mouthful of cold turkey I was engaged on at the moment, and then said ‘*T hope I’ve made a favorable impression on you, sir?’’ } ‘¢Bh??? ; ‘*Hope I’ve made a favorable impression on you, Mr. Widdringtor?”’ He looked a bit puzzled, and then laughed heartily, as he almost choked me by another thump on the back. In the morning off we went in the squire’s splendid dog-cart, to take back her purse to the old lady. When we arrived at the farm- house we were ushered into the best room. I felt that I was the hero of the occasion, and when Mrs. Joskins came in and identi- fied me as the ‘‘brave young gentleman”’ of the previous evening, my chest didn’t seem the right size for my vest. I felt swollen as I put the purse in her hand. ‘““Twenty-two dollars and seventy-five cents in it,’’ I remarked. ‘‘What’s, the matter?’’? exclaimed Mr. Widdrington, as the old lady gave a loud squeak. ‘‘This isn’t my purse, squire!’’ she screamed. ‘Not your purse?”’ ‘“No. This is silk; mine was leather, and had only two dollars in it.’’ I particularly wish to end this tale now as quickly as possible. My vest seemed to fit me again suddenly.. From a hero I seemed to shrink into an ordinary individual—sud- denly. Mr. Widdrington made a number of remarks as we drove back, but I do not think it is worth while to repeat them. Just as we approached the spot where Jack Miles and I had made our gallant attack-on the highwayman the night before, he sud- denly pulled up his horse with the exclama- tion: ‘‘Here’s the parson !”’ The parson hurried to the side of the dog- cart, and—almost before I recognized him-— poured out an excited story into Mr. Wid- drington’s ear. ‘‘It happened at this very spot last night,’’ he said. ‘‘Two highway robbers drove up in a buggy—ran into me—knocked me over— + sprang out and seized me—threatened to knock me on the head—robbed me of my purse, containing twenty-two dollars and seventy-five cents.’’ Squire Widdrington produced the purse that Mrs. Joskins had disowned. ‘*Ts this your purse, parson?’? ‘*Yes—how on earth——’’ Mr. Widdrington was very rude. Instead of waiting for the parson to finish his ques- tion, he turned to me. ‘‘What in the name of—— Hello! what’s up now?”’ “‘T should like to get out and walk, please,’’ I explained, with.-my foot on the step of the dog-cart. But Mr. Widdrington stopped me. I don’t think people can laugh and .be SunnehSERniiianemanienienaasiiiiiaetien ~ 4130 angry at the same time, and Mr. Widdring- ton and the parson laughed so long that there wasn’t time left to get angry. There’s a good moral to this story. It’s this: Pluck is a splendid thing, but it’s none the worse for being mixed with a little discretion. —— +o o—_— The Song of the Sea~Dogs. There were seven little sea-dogs running swiftly to the quay, For their ship was weighing anchor, and was putting out to sea; But their haste was so excessive that the stumbled as they ran, ‘ And each fell against the other, and upset his brother man. The captain saw them ,running—‘‘Serve them right for being late! Let them run for it—the beggars!’’ said the captain to the mate. ‘*So, yo-heave-ho, my boys! Heave with a will, my boys! The fewer are the crew, boys! The more for me and you, boys! Yo-heave-ho!’? were seven little sea-dogs rowing swiftly to the ship, And their hearts were in their mouths lest she should give them all the slip; But their haste was so excessive, and the current ran so strong, And the crabs they caught so many that they could not get along. There The captain saw them rowing, and a scorn- ful man was he; ‘Let them row for it, the beggars! they shall follow us to sea! So sheet home the royals, boys! Hoist up the topsail, boys! Cat and fish the anchor, boys! Haul out the spanker, boys! Loose all sail!’’ } ‘‘Ship ahoy! ahoy! mates! Heave aback for us, mates! The more hands te work, mates! The fewer tasks to shirk, mates! Ahoy! ship ahoy !’’ There were seven little sea-dogs drifting slowly on the sands, With their little faces hidden in their tired little hands, For their haste was so excessive that at last they rowed no more, And their oars fell feebly from them, and- went drifting on before. The captain saw them drifting, and he clapped on canvas still, ‘‘Let them swim for it, the beggars! they can do it if they will! So keep her head up, my boys! Close reef the foresail, boys! The more there are away, boys! The more there’ll be of pay, boys! Let fly the jib!’’ There were seven little sea-dogs in the angry sea behind, While their ship was tlying onward like a bird before the wind. All that night the ship flew onward—but when dawn began to break, There were seven little sea-dogs swimming swiftly in her wake. The captain saw thém swimming, and his swarthy face grew white, ‘Though I split my sheets to ribands, I’ll be rid of them to-night! So crowd on sail, my boys! Let her scud free, my boys! If you ever ran for fear, boys! From danger in the rear, boys! Let her drive now!’’ Never more in port or harbor cast she anchor from that day, But where hurricanes sweep fiercest, drives she wildly on her way, And if ever into shelter from the tempest would she turn—— Lo! the seven little sea-dogs rapidly astern! swimming And the captain, white with terror, hears again the hollow wail, Through the moaning of the waters and the shrieking of the gale: ‘‘Ship ahoy! ahoy! mates! Heave aback for us, mates! The more hands to work, mates! The fewer tasks to shirk, mates! Ahoy! ship ahoy!’’ ~> 0 > ESKIMOS CANNOT SWIM. Although the Eskimos are dependent upon the sea for everything they eat and for the clothes they wear, they do not know how to swim. This seems strange at first, but be- comes less mysterious when we take into consideration the fact that the temperature of the water in the region where they live is never above the freezing point. The natives guard against the danger of drown- ing by making the covering of their boats so tight about the body of the fisherman that CHOOT? INOW ss: How Joues Broke Whales to Harness, BY HORACE MARTIN, sp trices in dec Seal T is strange,’’ said Jones, reflectively, as he puffed vigorously at his cigar, ‘*that Jackson Peters never tells us of => any more of his ideas for inventions, The last thing was his ingenious notion of putting hinges on the trunks of fruit trees, so that in case of high wind they could. be turned down. You never perfected that plan, did you, Jackson?’’ And Jones turned toward the young man with great apparent interest. ‘“‘The thing could be done,’’ answered Peters, as if Jones had cast doubts on its practicability. ‘‘And it would be a great boon to fruit-growers in draughty parts of the country. Lately, I’ve been wondering that more progress is not made by inventors in the line of submarine war-boats.”’ ‘*Possibly you could get some hints from an account of my experience with the Leviathan Towing and Transportation Line, which I worked in the late sixties,’’ ad- ee mitted Jones. ‘‘You remember the line, Robinson??? Robinson answered ‘‘Yes,’’ without a blush. ‘‘One night after I went to bed,’’ con- tinued Jones, ‘‘it occurred to me that, animals had ever been put to any practical use till dead. It seemed probable that the most useful purpose to which living land |animals were put by man was as draught |}animals, of which we may take the horse and: the ox as examples. Why were not the animals of the sea used for draught pur- poses? I became so excited that Ilay awake all night thinking about it. The result was the Leviathan Towing and Transportation Line. ‘‘During allamy life to think has been to act, therefore, you need not be surprised to know that ina month I had left New Bed- ford on a chartered whaling steamer looking for whales. I had decided that the was the animal most suited to school of whales; whales, whales, whales, Greenland whales, fin-backed whales, and so forth. with a reed, so it would say ‘shoo,’ and they soon learned what it meant, and we worked them along down the coast by easy stages. A-good many of the more skittish ran back, and I thought at one time that I might have end of a stick to coax them; but we finally got them down to Gardiner’s Bay, Long Island, and grounded them in the shallow water. ‘Of course, it has always been self-evident ing animal if* he~ could be controlled The most important and hardest thing was clearly to keep him from,diving. A careful study showed me that the whale could not dive without first putting his head down; therefore, all that was needed was a bear- ing-rein sufficiently strong to restrain him in that respect. ‘*T selected a fine whale about seventy-five feet long, which I had noticed was a good traveler, and proceeded to harness him. I put a bit about four inches in diameter in his mouth, with ten-foot .check-rings on each side. From this bit Iran a hawser along his back and round his tail, where the flukes are joined to the body. I then put on a large collar, attached a mud barge by four-inch wire cables, and turned him to- ward deep water for a trial spin. ‘*Naturally, of course, that whale did not readily take to harness. He reared up, rolled over, charged ahead, struck out fiercely with his flukes, blew a stream of water like an artesian well, and otherwise misbehaved himself. His efforts to dive were something startling, but the bearing-rein held, and he finally gave it up. ‘tT had wire cable reins connected with the wheel in the pilot-house, and stood there and guided him, occasionally touching him up with .a bamboo fishing-rod.. In two hours I could, manage him fairly well, and ina week he was fully broken, though he always remained hard-mouthed, and was _ never what you might call a lady’s whale. ‘‘T then went on and broke the others of the school to harness. I found the Greenlands made the best draught animals, and I used them in towing lighters, canal-boats, barges, and so forth, either driving them single or two abreast. The fin+backs, I soon discov- ered, were the best driving beasts, being light, active and stylish. ‘*T took a young and quick-stroke fin-back for my own private use, and used him on my yacht. He wasa free gcer, a little in- clined to shy at light-houses and promon- tories, but gentle as a kitten. He could throw spray in the face of any other whale along the coast. He was better on a smooth track, but did not make a bad showing out- there is no leakage even if they do happen to tip over, 4 side, where the track was heavy. He was always rather nervous ‘about being har- though hundreds of land animals are of use | to a man while living, not one of the sea} whale | my purpose, | Off the coast of Labrador we sighted a large Fortunately, if was a| wasted no more time, but with an expres- graded school, so to say, consisting of true|sion of rapture stealing over their faces, hump-baeked | they made for the door, accompanied by the spermaceti | prisoner and his guard. | went back to, business. The judgé took his seat, scrutinized the faces of the audience, and apparently satis- fied by what he had read there, cleared his throat and began: ‘*Gentlemen of the jury,’’ he said, ‘‘when we were interrupted by unforeseen circum- that the whale would make a splendid driv- | | nessed, and it usually took two men to get him into the shafts. ‘*T gave up the business on account of the continued opposition of the steamboat peo- ple. They made various ridiculous charges, j}and got the Society for the Prevention of | Cruelty to Animals excited. The absurd cry | was set up that my bearing-reins were cruél, and that, I was docking the flukes of my driving animals. They also got a law en- {acted requiring me to stop every fifty miles and feed my whales out of a nose bag made from a balloon—something utterly uncalled for. ‘‘The charge of fast driving was likewise made against me, and a law was. passed prohibiting a speed of above forty-five miles an hour. Finally I gave the whole scheme up, and turned my whales loose. I am essen- tially a man of peace, esteeming quietude above all things. Strife is as distasteful to me as an untruth. ‘‘The whales lapsed into barbarism, but did not utterly forget their cunning. Two years later, when the bark Curlew tried to | take my fin-back off the coast of Greenland, | he dodged the harpoon, took it in his mouth like a tooth-pick, and punched the boats so full of holes with it that they looked like nutmeg graters.”’ ot oe WHAT PRICE THE DOG ? Here is an amusing account of a dog fight in one of the Western States which inter- rupted the proceedings of a court of justice. The case was going dead against the pris- oner, whose neck did not seen worth ten | cents. The culprit, who was looking through the window at his side, seemed to be the | only uninterested person present. A deputy standing near was about to re- | call his attention to the proceedings, when, | following for an instant the direction of the | prisoner’s gaze, he, too, became absorbed. The sheriff himself then glanced at the win- | dow, through which short barks could now be heard, and after one look he rushed to the door and commenced hurriedly descend- ing the steps. The audience gazed at each other in amazement for an instant before, with a simultaneous movement, they took a hurried survey of the yard. Having looked, they The judge, being left alone in the empty ‘We had considerable trouble in driving | codrt-house, frowned severely at the vacant them at first, but I rigged up a fog-horn | benches, as he said, with impressive dignity : ‘*T think this court will now adjourn,’’ Then he tucked up his sleevés, and made good time for the yard. Here a dog fight was proceeding between the prisoner’s dog and astay animal who to.send a tug ahead with a herring om the | had offended him. After an exciting contest, the prisoner’s dog won, and the whole court | stances a short time ago, I opine that you were just a-goin’ to declare that accordin’ to the best of your belief the pris’ner was innercent of the charge ag’in him.”’ ‘*You’ve struck it, jedge,’’ unblushingly responded the jury. The judge frowned down an attempt at speech on the part of the sheriff, and turned to the prisoner. ‘¢Pris’ner,’’ he said, ‘‘you heerd the re- marks of them gentlemen opposite, so you may take it that the proceedin’s is con- cluded. But don’t you get up to any more of your tricks in this country, for it ’pears likley the next time you won’t get off so easy. And now, what’ll you take for that dog??? a ek Se A NEIGHBORLY CORRESPONDENCE. ‘*Mr. Thompson presents his compliments to Mr. Simpson, and begs to request that he will keep his piggs from trespassing on_ his grounds, ’”’ ‘‘Mr. Simpson presents his compliments to Mr. Thompson, and begs that in future he will not spell piggs with two gees.’’ ‘*Mr. Thompson’s respects to Mr. Simp- son, and will feel obliged if he will add the letter ‘e’ to the last word in note just re- ceived, so as to represent Mr. Simpson and his lady.’’ ‘‘Mr. Simpson returns Mr. Thompson’s note unopened—the impertinence it contains being only equaled by its vulgarity !’’ ————_-- > 0 > ———_- HE SHOT IT. Prince Talleyrand was rudely awakened one night by a pistol-shot close to his ear. When wide awake endugh to take in the situation, he discovered his valet standing near by, holding a smoking revolver in his hand. Visions of sudden and murderous in- sanity flitted through his sleep-befuddled brain, but the next instant he was reassured by the man saying, calmly: ‘*May it please your highness, there was a mouse in your room, and fearing that it might disturb your rest, I shot it,’’ | has been appointed ) above. I gx? EWS ‘iGLUBS. [SPECIAL NOTICE.—This column ‘is for GOOD Nkws Clubs only. No notices will be inserted excepting such as are genuine GOOD NEws Club notices, and nothing in the shape of an advertise- ment will be allowed. Every club notice should have the names of the president and secretary of the club attached. For information concerning GOOD NEWs Club Badge and Electrotypes see ad- vertisement on last page. ] ‘ CLUB CHAT, _ The Goop News Sporting Club of Saco, Me., has just been organized. See notice below. The Goop News Reading and Hxchange Club of Orangeville, Md., is another new club. The Wild West Goop News Educational and Cor- responding Club of Golden, Col., is a new club, with excellent aims. Earle E. Griggs, 212 Windsor street, Atlanta, Ga., uppo representative of the G. N. R. and Ki. Club of Clinton, Mo., for that State. All desiring to join that club from Georgia will write to him, CLUB NOTICES. ‘Oh, Fred! where did you get all those photographs of pretty girls?” ‘That is easily enough explained, ’ replied Fred. ‘I simply joined Goop Nrws National 300k and Stamp Exchange Club, and now T have young lady correspondents all over the country, who have exchanged photographs with me. Besides that, I have exchanged all the stamps, books, etc., that I had for others, by sending in exchange notices to be published in the club paper, which is sent free to all members. The club also keeps me supplied with all the story papers, etc., that I can read.’? Now, readers of Goon, Nrws, that is Fred’s story. Why not join this club yourself and receive all the things he did? It will pay you. When you join we send you a large bundle of reading matter (all kinds), our club paper, list of members, containing the names of young ladies and gentlemen from all over the country, who will correspond and exchange photos. You can have bushels of fun. The admission fee is only one dime and six 1c. stamps; no dues; ladies and foreigners free. Address W. E. Toliver, secretary, South Atlanta., Ga. H. P. Prackett, president. Well, well, well, boys! A regular good thing! We want members for our list, to be issued soon, and to get them we will make this offer: All joining this week will receive a magical Brownie. The Brownie will tell your fortune. The wonderful Brownie is not the only thing you receive. Remember, you get a first- class novel, a package of beautiful cards, with your name neatly printed upon, beautiful card of member- ship, list of members, and to the fifth one joining a handsome present. We don’task a fortune for the All we ask is six 1c. stamps for the initiation fee, and there are no dues; ladies a 2c. stamp; all for- eigners admitted free. Representatives wanted in every State. Remember, boys, this is the genuine Golden West Club. Willie Reardon, president; Julius Wolff, secretary. Address at once the secretary 040244 Grove street, San Francisco, Cal. The Goop News Stamp Information and Exchange Club is a new one, but it is O. K.,and bound to be pop- ular. All questions concerning the water-marks, dates of issue, or other information concerning stamps will be answered for members without extra charge. Sheets of stamps may be sent to the secretary, who will price them by Scott’s 55th Catalogue and return them. We offer no prizes, knowing that the true merit of our plan will be seen by all interested in stamps, and that it will need no extra inducements to get members. Admission fee, 10c.; ladies, 5c.; dues, 25c.; foreigners admitted free, but will pay dues, Ad- dress J. D. W. Saulsbury, secretary, 38 Lyon street, Batavia, N. Y. The Wild West Goop News Educational and Cor- responding Club of Golden, Col., wants 100 more new members, and in order to get them we offer the follow- ing prizes: To the first member joining a cloth-bound book, to every fifth a paper-covered book, and 10 every tenth a game of authors. We will also send the club paper, containing examples, questions, puzzles; etc., and conditions on which prizes will be given for their solution, to all who join. The admission fee will be 25c.; ladies admitted free; foreigners for a 2c. stamps no. dues. Our mottois: “Hear instructions, be wise and refuse them not.” “Ralph Lebérn, president. Ad dress all letters to Robert T. Bunney, secretary. Goop News Union, Corresponding Club of Brad: dock, Pa. Official headquarters and club-room, aL Belle avenue. H. Chas. Black, secretary. Initiatiol fee for resident members is 25c.; dues, 15¢. per months non-resident members’ fee, gents 10c. (silver); ladies two lc. stamps. Any respectable boy or girl from the age of 14 to 20 eligible to membership. We want repy resentatives in every city in the United States, Specl@ inducements to representatives. bership card and list and card given to each membel Join now and have your name in our next list (NO. 5) : to be issued next month. Address the secretary. Join now, before you get left. A large number 2 names has been added to the Goop News sporting q Club of Saco, Me. We only want 30 more, 80 hurry up, and be one of the lucky ones. .This week we le you join for 8c., in order to increase our membership list. Every fifth one joining this week will receive # fine bound story book, and the first one joining W, receive a fine book, entitled “The Younger Brother Initiation fee is 8c.; foreigners free, and ladies fons 2c. stamp; officers of other clubs will be admitted free H. Chas. Black, president. Address all letters tO ou secretary, Geo. T, Deane, Saco, Me. « Boys, boys, boys! Whatare you doing? You a asleep if you do not read this. The Goop NEws stan e and Reading Club of Watkins, N. Y., will give 4 lars bundle of papers (scientific and about stamps, and to the first and tenth will give a set of Colum 5 up to 15c., and to all between a rare stamp that Liste not less than 20c., and all above shall receive 3 Colu t bians above 10c. and 50 foreign stamps, You a0 these and become a member for 10c., to pay the ¢ rv! for this month. Send dues to R. P. Clawson, secrete Frank Nicks, president; George Crank, vice-presideé Lock Box No, 80. Hello! Here we are, still on deck. The Goo? ins Corresponding and Exchange Club of Duluth, Me a wants all to join. The first one joining will recel ri handsome picture. We are about to open a new Pive contest, so join now and try and win the prize. join have also issued a new membership list. To all jis ing we will give membership card, membership, og and 2 tricks. To the tenth one joining we will 5 ep’ short story. For full particulars send a stampe rary velope to Wm. G. Campbell, president and SOC int 205 South Seventeenth avenue East, Duluth, Initiation fee, 12c, ood This is just what you have been looking for, # ony, monthly paper, free of charge. For a short time iD f all joining the Kayaderosseras Goop NEWS giant Ballston Spa, N. Y., will receive the Amateu? or wild ard six months and a good novel. The pare ‘edi contain stories, poems, club news, philatelic tal” ma torials, ete. There are no dues in this club. 0e. pe is required is the entrance fee, which is only 10C. ete. y piané A handsome ment . hey GooD NEWS. president of the club is Will J. Burnham, and the sec- retary is Bud Moore. Address all communications to the latter, P. O. Box 861. Join the Goop News Reading and Exchange Club of Orangeville, Baltimore County, Md. Has just been organizedpand wants members from everywhere. To the first person joining from each State we will give the following articles: One book, novels, 10 foreign stamps, 25 songs, card of membership, and other read- ing matter; to all others joining we will give all except the book. fnitiation fee, lic.; dues, 10c. a month. For full particulars send stamp to the secretary, Stanislaus Carrick, Orangeville, Baltimore County, Md. Frank McArdle, president. Attention! Here we are again, boy! Join the Goop News Reading Club of Rome. We are seeking more members. To get more we will give 4 novels to those joining atonce. You will geta book every | month. I[t will cost 10c. to join; no dues. Join to-day. The regular admission fee is 20¢c:, but we will bring it Within reach of everybody. Our members want more boys and girls that they can exchange books with, so join at once. A. J. Sees, 702 West Dominick street, Rome, N. Y., secretary; James Taylor, president. The Goop Nrws Club of Staunton, I11.. solicits your | favors. Dues, 25c. per year; ladies, 15c. Premiums for this week, 5 sheets latest music or 50 piece-stamp-. ing patterns for the ladies; coin and stamp guide for fentlemen. We have several departments. We want Only intelligent members, If you are intelligent, this Means you. We will admit foreign members free this Week, Our first list will be out soon, and should con- tain your name. Address Chas. WwW. Simison, secre- tary, Staunton, Ill. The Goop News Bay State Corresponding Club of | Springfield, Mass., is the only club giving photographs of members; name and addresson each. Every one joining gets three different photographs (either ladies Or gentlemen), membership card and list, circulars, ete. First 10 joining geta United States stamp, cata- logued at 25c. Initiation fee, 20c.; no dues; ladies and foreigners (not including Canadians) free. B. A. Stickles, secretary, 347 Walnut street, Springfield, Mass, Join, join, join the Corn Palace City Goop Nrws Club of Sioux City, Iowa, and be happy ever after. Objects of the club: Correspondence, friendship, and the offering of reading matter to its members. Send in 6c. as a year’s initiation fee; no dues. Each mem- ber receives a printed listof members and a nice as- Sortment of current literature. Address the secretary, E. F. Molen, Sioux City, Iowa. Join the Goop News Universal Stamp Club at once, and receive a new list of members, just issued; also a heat card of membership, 25 different foreign stamps, and a bundle of amateurand philatelic papers. Ini- tiation fee, 10c.; no dues; all foreigners, except Cana- dians, admitted free. For full particulars address Benj. A, Wilson, 27 Fay street, Chicago, Ill. Only 6c. to join the Star Goop News Exchange Club of Burlington, Iowa; no dues. Neat list and member- Ship card toall. Young ladies and foreigners requested to join free. A large bundle of reading matter, asa Premium, sent free to all. Address the secretary, Ar- ur Breitenstein, 1389 Angular street. = by XCHANGE ‘Der aRTMENT. ae an WiMPorranr.— his colinnn is free to all our readers. © will not be responsible for transactions brought peout through notices in this columm. All offers nus 2& Strictly exchange offers. We will uot insert any ex Sale” advertisements, nor exchanges of fire-arms, n blosives, dangerous or worthless articles. If exchange Otices do not appear in a reasonable time, it may be ‘Understood that t ley were not accepted. Address al) COmmninications for this coluinn to “Exchange De- Partment,”} 19 ene § VIOLIN.—Lewis B. Shane, Lock Box 55, Richfield ang, N. Y., has a $25 violin, bow, case and in- »tuction book to exchange for a watch of equal value dies or gents) or a kodak camera (loaded). ; MISCELLANEOUS.—Albert Dressing, 62 Flint Teet, Cincinnati, Ohio, has Goop News from No. m: Up to date and ten five and ten-cent novels, and a of He’ lantern with twelve slides to exchange for a set Oxing-sloves, or other reading matter. STAMPS, —Jos, Reiter, 33 Jefferson avenue, Chip- Wa Falis, Wis., would like to hear from all persons oh 48 Ic., 2c., or higher United States stamps to exe Ange, All letters and postals answered. EADING MATTER. — Robt. Ives, 903 Sixth teat, Burlington, Ia., has Goon News from No. 226 8t boon; #l_complete, in good condition, for bound omens by Ellis, Alger, Graydon, and Jayne, or. best ? also novels to exchange for same. fo SCELLANEOUS.—L. Kubicki, 16 East Twenty- Coing , teet, Kansas City, Mo., has fourteen old Cards & Columbian haltf dollar, seventy-five picture dime’ 000 United States and foreign stamps (mixed), a Chane ings bank and ‘Irving’s sketch book to ex- Sundr. for small printing press, camera or bicycle B 1€8; also good exchange for 30-inch bicycle. Pa OYs’ PAPERS,—Ernest Linn, of New Brighton, and os boys’ papers to exchange for prifiting press i Utfit or boxing-gloves. Street: SeuLA NEOUS.—John Lewis. 1316 East Fifth one 3S edalia, Mo., has $4 worth of reading matter, 8 tes reka puzzle, 100 picture cards, 300 United Veg rrr foreign stamps to exchange for boxing- Goop News" or punching-bag, or five volumes of PRinmra:, Tre NTING PRESS.—Adolph Boehm, 575 West Power) fth street, Chicago, Mls., has a 6x10 foot- Came and-inking printing press to exchange for @ Is : me best offer. City offers only. hag oy ULANHOUS.—G. H. Wescott, Caro, Mich., Sls, boys’ and bicycle papers, manuals and Pair of pores to exchange for other boys’ papers or Ndian clubs, two pounds. Court, S &c.—Andrew Christianson, 60 Bismarck Slugs and oe Ill., has books and font of. type, with 0 Tules, in patented case, value $4.50, to ex- OFS) T camera, or best offer. SPringhe|y PERS —B. A. Stickles, 347 Walnut street, Ora deve Mass., will give a volume of boys’ papers Quov 4] foot War Department stamp. Will give Ver r each stamp catalogued at three-cent or Uplicates taken. ; sreet, WLLA NEOUS.—Oscar Mettsner, 207 Madison » Ne 7 2 on ycards ee, ork city, has2 presses, 5 sets of type, best Offer & Camera to exchange .for foreign coins a TAM ps No pictures or novels wanted. tb 7 \;,-+ Myer, 24 East 109th street, New York ns and € to exchange United States stamps for Aq nine 04 novels; also the light colored two-cent i lette ‘ anevee a aited States for Panama or novels. Vt TAM . red, Ivo + LPS. wre twente: a’: J. Patterson, Moorestown, N. J., will exe ric n Stan € stamps, all different, for any Central z lange Mp sent him; also has other stamps to tre OD News uv et, y ~ 13.—H, New H. Hyans, 33t East Fifty-elghth sta 3 of Gon city, would like to exchange vol- Senay 2nd Witness os best — in United States ; e 9 for best offer i . 8nd he wil] sand bie er in foreign stamps. | West Twelfth place, Chicago, Tlls., will trade a $3 magic lantern, with 108 pictures, for a good punching- | bag, or what have you in exchange. All letters ‘answered. STAMPS.—James J. Flynn, 3316 Webster avenue, | | Pittsburgh, Pa., has United States and foreign stamps | to exchange for United States coins. MISCELLANEOUS. — Florence Knight, Silver Plume, Col., has the following Columbian stamps—30 one-cent ones, 40 two-cent ones, 3 ten-cent ones, 3 four-cent ones, % five-cent ones, 1 six-cent one—two good twenty-five-cent novels, and a black hair chain to exchange for lady’s second-hand gold watch. Answer through Goop Nrws exchange column, READING MATTER.—Arthur Breitenstein, 1339 | | Angular street, Burlington, I[a., has other novels to | exchange for Nick Carter libraries. Lists of reading matter exchanged. 4 BOOKS.—G. L. Collester, 847 Walnut street, Spring- field, Mass., will give a cloth-bound book by Alger or Otis for any of the following stamps: 1888, ninety-cent purple; 1872, twenty-four-cent purple; two thirty- cent or ‘a fifty-cent Columbian, ninety-cent interior, twelve-cent justice or a ten-cent Post Office Depart- ment. MISCELLANEOUS.—A. R. Stott, 11 Second street, | Rochester, N. Y., would like to exchange books, | Goop NEWS or natural history specimens for type or minerals. GOOD NEWS.—Edw. Brooks, 662 Preston street, Louisville, Ky., has one Goop Nrws binder and pins, and Goop Nrws from Nos. 8 to250 to exchange for United States or foreign stamps. All letters answered. READING MATTER.—T. F. Chesebrough, North- port, Long Island, N. Y., has boys’ stories and libraries to exchange for Nos, 183 to 194, inclusive, of GooD NEWS. MISCELLANEOUS.—Chas. A. Caskey, 64 San- dusky street, Allegheny, Pa., hasa number of useful articles to exchange for stamps. GOOD NEWS.—G, A. Fichtner, Hartford, Kans., has Goop News from No. 1 to No. 15 to exchange for Goop News from Nos. 16 to 27, or a dollar motor, or best ofler in electrical goods. MISCELLANEOUS.—E. S. Adams, 264 Manchester street, Manchester, N. H., wishes to hear from those having guitar, banjo, mandolin, watches, sporting goods or photographic articles. He hasa long list of | goods to select from. All letters answered, STAMPS.—G. E Kenly, of 86 Sussex street, Port Jervis, N. Y., has two United States three-cent | stamps used during the Civil War, one purple United States three-cent, one United States brown two-cent ten United States green two-cent, one Mexican an one Brazilian stamp to exchange for best offer, All letters answered. GOOD NEWS.—M. W. Carter, Berkeley, Iowa, has | one cloth-bound book, one game of authors and one accordion to exchange for printing press, scroll saw | or best offer in a musical instrument. MISCELLANEOUS.—Dick Ressler, Hagerstown, | Ind., has forty Goop N&ws and other boys’ papers, sixty five-cent libraries, eighty other monthlies, weeklies, etc., a base-ball glove, a League base-ball, 1,120 mixed foreign stamps, a magic iantern with slides, 9-inch draw telescope, six cloth-bound books, twelve paper-bound books, a checker board and set of dominoes to exchange for a 28 or 30-inch pneumatic- tired safety or guitar (safety preferred). All letters answered. NOVELS.—Joseph Washington, Rose Bud, Clear- field County, Pa., has twenty five-cent novels to ex- change for same, : STAMPS.—F. B. Sharkey, Fleetwood avenue, cor- ner 184th street, New York city, will exchange a col- | lection of 1,200 postage stamps for a first-class mandolin. STORY PAPERS.--Edw. M. Norton, No. 11 Flood Building, San Francisco, Cal., has Goop News from No. 227 to No. 257, also eighteen other story papers to exchange for the best offer in stamps. MISCELLANEOUS. — Jay F. Smith, 514 Jones street, Sioux City, Iowa, has solid-tire safety bicycle, a pair of opera glasses, telegraph key and sounder, pair of Indian clubs, a pointed fish pole, 850 picture cards, and piles of books to trade for camera, not less | than 4 by 5, self-inking printing press, not less than 5 | by 8, or best offer. STAMPS.—Wm. Evers, 2627 Madison street, St. Louis, Mo., will give 250 mixed United States or 250 foreign for every United States stamp catalogued at 25 cents; foreign and United States from sheets for United States tin tags, and picture cards for United | States stamps. MISCELLANEOUS.—Charlie D. Deane, Box 805, Saco, Me., has one thirty-five-cent Ocarina, one pair of skees and Goop News to exchange for best offer in drawing and. artists’ materials. Will exchange each article separate if requested. STAMPS.—James V. O'Hara, 437 Virginia street, Vallejo, Cal., will give three fifty-cent novels for a | fifty-cent Columbian, or five twenty-five-cent novels for two thirty-cent Columbians; also a genuine World’s Fair admission ticket for seventy-five two- cent Columbians, or a fifteen-cent Columbian; 2,500 assorted foreign stamps for best offer, Columbians preferred. All letters answered. PRINTING OUTFIT.—Emil Fromberg,P. 0. Box 117, Rankin Station,. Allegheny Co., Pa., has the ideal family printing outfit, a 4A fontof the famous metal bodied rubber type, with figures, holder, pads, tweezers and indelible ink to exchange for Goop News, Nos. 185-195. MISCELLANEOUS.- renee Steele, 22 Nineteenth street, Buffalo, N. Y., has a pair of ice skates and copies of Goon NEws from 2382 to 257, anda game of | fish-pond to exchange for best offer. All letters answered, STAMPS,—Karle Brinker, Wilkinsburg, Pa., has 100 different foreign and United States stamps, value f°, to exchange for best offer in other good stamps. or 148 a used stam/p from Virgin Island, value $3, or one unused from Prince Edward's Island, value $3,to ex- change for a fifty-cent Columbia or one-dollar mort- gage. MISCELLANEOUS.—Ralph ‘E. Williams, Grange, N. C., will exchange volume 1 of Goop Nrws for largest number of novels, or best camera or telescope sent him within five days. Has United States and Col stamps for best offer in novels. Write at once with offer and list. GOOD NEWS.—W. M. Rodgers, 885 Center street, Racine, Wis., wants offers of guitar, banjo, or mando- lin for any volume of Goon News from Vol. 1, No. 1, to date, or will consider offers for complete file, if same be received before fileis broken. Give complete description of goods in your offer or no notice will be taken of it, READING MATTER. — Joseph GC. Simoneau, 6 Madden place, Marlboro, Mass., has Vols. 1 to 10, Goop Nrws, 5 volumes of other boys’ papers, 85 other story papers, and 45 5c. libraries to exchange for best offers; no reading matter or stamps wanted; zither and fife music preferred. MISCELLANEOUS.—J. J. Sippy and A. R. Mes- sick, Belle Plaine, Kan., will exchange 2,000 stamps, 5 novels, boys’ tri-colored flash-light, old coins, Confed- erate bills, and long list of other articles for reading matter, boys’ papers (GoopD Nrws preferable), or Co- lumbian stmaps. All lettera snswered. MAGIC LANTERN.—Wm. Schaumburg, No. 314 | Kan., has old coins, papers, stamps on sheets, and Co- } dealt with in the ‘Mail Bag.” | questions not answered. Goop Nrws goes to press | fore answers cannot appear until two or three weeks |, Imperial of France was killed in Zululand in 1879. ; 20 lbs.; lemon juice, 18 oz.; honey, 1 lb.; bruised | three gallons of the water for halfan hour; then add | Here are a few: ‘‘Bernardo del Carpio” (‘The Spanish | Champion’’), by Mrs. Hemans; ‘‘Horatius” and “Vir- INDIAN CLUBS AND STAMP ALBUM.—H. F. Haemer, 314 North Second street, Brooklyn, N. Y., would like to exchange a pair of 3-lb. Indian clubs and a Duke’s Stamp Album for Goop Nrws from No. 209 to 248. MISCELLANEOUS. — F. Hemikson, 289 Central avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y., has 2 volumes boys’ papers, 25 comic libraries, 3 hand-books on gymnastics, part of Vols. 4and 5 of Goop Nrws, a minstrel guide, and how to make musical instruments to exchange for minerals, Indian relics or any kind of curiosities, type, orstamps. All letters answered. GOOD NEWS.—Chas. F. Adams, P.O. Box 1265, Dubuque, Iowa, has the following numbers of Goop NEWS: From 194-196, 199-201, 203-206, 212, 214, 216, 220- 222, 226, 227, 229, 231-235, 288, 240-247 to exchange for type or best offer in Columbian stamps; also 2 10c. and 2 5c. novels for a set of Columbians from 1c. to 25c. READING MATTER.—C. R. Foster, Box 185, West- field, N. J., will exchange 4 books by Alger and boys’ papers for books by Harry Castlemon or Frank Con- verse. All letters answered. PRINTING MATERIAL. — Chas. W. Simison, Staunton, I1l., has 35 cuts, 15 fonts of type, 3 fonts bor- der, cases, ornaments, and other materials to exchange for a self-inking press, 5x8 or larger; 6 months of an English boys’ paper for Goop NrEws containing “Tom Havens with the White Squadron,’ in good condition. ; GOOD NEWS.—Frank B. Ferebee, 610 East Bram- bleton avenue, Norfolk, Va., has 45 numbers of Goop NEws to exchange for best offer in foreign stamps. BOOKS. — Theo. L. Osborn, Box 439, Greenville, Mich., will exchange a 25e. book for every 4 5c. novels or 2 10c. ones sent to his address. Send novels and re- ceive books. MISCELLANEOUS.—Jesse E. Reed, Belle Plaine, lumbian stamps of all denominations to exchange for typewriter or best offer. Our Mi ail Bag. (Questions on subjects of general interest only are Medical or legal two weeks in advance of date of publication, and there- after we receive them. Connnunications intended for this columu should be addressed Goop Nrws “Mail Bag,” P. O. Box 2734, New York City.] _-— M. C. G., Cincinnati, Ohio.—1. Mr. Armitage’s next story will be one of the times of Napoleon. We are glad you think so highly of these fine tales. We con- sider them the best stories of the kind ever written for boys, and they are true to history in every particular. 2. Enrique H. Lewis writes exclusively for Goop News. You will like his new story, ‘The Copper Disk,” which is begun in our next number. 3. The youngest sovereign of Europeis the King of Spain, who is eight years and eleven months. 4, The Prince 5. You will find articles on ‘‘How to Become a Con- jurer” in Nos. 245 and 246 of Good Nrws. 6. April 20th, 1870, fell on Wednesday. H. S. A.—1. The process is too long to be described here. 2. An excellent mixture to remove grease spots is made of four parts of alcohol to one part of ammonia. Apply the liquid to the grease spot and then rub diligently with a sponge and clear water. 8. Ginger ale may be made as follows: White sugar, ginger, 17 oz.; water, 18 gallons; boil the ginger in the sugar, the juice and the honey, with the remainder of the water, and strain through a cloth; when cold, add the white of an egg and half an ounce of the essence oflemon. After standing four days, bottle. R. L. E., Columbus, Ohio.—A long list could be given of poems adapted for recitation, but we scarcely know whether they will meet your requirements. ginius,’’ Macaulay ; ‘‘Kugene Aram,’ ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade,’ and “The Revenge: a Ballad of the Fleet,” Tennyson; ‘The Wreck of the Hesperus” and “Robert of Sicily,’ Longfellow ; and “Chiquita” by Bret Harte. We may also mention Kipling’s “Gunga Din” and “Snarleyow.” F. R. Ank, Brooklyn, N. Y.—1. Lieut Lounsberry is at present engaged upon a new story for us, which will be published during the summer. 2. Some of the stories in volume 9 are “Joe the Surveyor,” “Blue and White Sam,” “The Pluck of a Pilot,’ ‘The Boy from the West,’ “The Scouts of the Swamp Fox,” “Tom Truxton’s Ocean Trip,’ ‘Among the Gypsies,” and “A Young Free Lance.” 8. There is no premium on the cent of 1820 or that of 1830. 4. Your writing is very legible—a good business hand. M. J. L., Los Angeles, Cal.—To freeze ice cream without fee: Take common sal-ammoniac, well pul- verized, one part; saltpetre, two parts; mix well together. Thén take common soda, well pulverized. To use, take equal quantities of these preparations (which must be kept separate and well covered previous ty using) and put them in the freezing pot. Add a proper quantity of water and put in the article to be frozenin a proper vessel. Cover up, and the cream will soon be frozen. J. I. &., Seattle, Wash.—You can restore faded writing by damping a piece of soft white paper ; lay it onthe faded writing; press it down closely ; put a tablespoonful of spirits of hartshorn in a tin vessel with a candle orlamp underit. Hold the soft, damp paper over it, so as to receive the fumes of the harts- horn ; if the writing is not exhibited on the soft paper plain enough, dampen it again and repeat the whole process. “Camp,” Findlay, Ohio.—1. You do not state your age, so itis impossible to tell whether you are above or below the average. 2. Your list is a very good one, but you should add a small medicine chest. 3. You can obtain a book called ‘Camping and Camp Out- fits,” by G. O. Shields, for $1.25. 4. Your writing is fair. C. R. F., Westfield, N. J.—1. Harry Castlemon has written for Goop News “Guy Harris, the Runaway,” “White Horse Fred,” and “A Sailor in Spite of Him- self.’ 2. Porter and Coates are in Philadelphia and Lee and Shepard in Boston. Mrs. W. M. H., Closter, N. J.—To prevent lamps from smoking, soak the wicks in strong vinegar, and dry them well before using. No lamp will smoke with wicks so prepared, unless they are turned up too high. ae 7 “Van,” New Orleans, La.—1l. The spring is the best time to take a blood purifier. 2. The silver three cent piece of 1865 is worth thirty cents. The other coins you mention are worth only their face value. M. C. G., Duluth, Minn.—1. The silver three cent piece of 1868 is worth thirty cents. 2. Your notices are too much in the nature of an advertisement, and we regret that we cannot insert them. Sportsman, New Bedford, Mass.—All shooting of game is prohibited in Massachusetts between May 1 and September 1. At all times there isa penalty for killing song-birds. through the American News Co., Chambers street, New York. M. J. A.j Frankfort, Ky.—Give your canaries fresh seed, pure water, both for drinking and bathing, cuttlefish, and, in their season, fresh lettuce and chickweed. L. 8. 7., Fort Wayne, Ind.~-The Lucania of the Cunard Line has made the fastest time across the Atlantic—5 days, 7 hours and 23 minutes, Young Cattle King, Denver, Col.—Grover Cleveland is the only Democratic President since Buchanan, who went out of office in 1861. W. M. &., Racine, Wis.—Thank you very much for your exceedingly pleasant letter. We heartily re- ciprocate your good wishes. Olid Dick Lewis, New York city.—A letter ad- dressed to any of our authors, care of this office, will be forwarded to them. H. H., New York city.—1. No, not at present. 2. Not until the day of, publication. 38. Your writing is good. ; L. B., Pittsburgh, Pa.—We may have such a story in the future. Glad you think so highly of Goop NEWS. £. B. H., Fitzwilliam, N. H.—Harvey Hicks lives in Newark, N. J. Horatio Alger livesin New York. CO. F. A., Key City, Ia.—Apply at some store where they keep electrical supplies. F. P. B., Osawatomie, Kans.—l. Not at present. 2. Eighty-five cents. 3. No. R. J. L., Woonsocket, R. I.—No premium on any of the coins you mention. C. L. D., Saco, Me.—Thank you for your pleasant words of appreciation. [Several communications left over to be answered next week, } a CAN YOU KEEP YOUR HAND STILL? Thought provokes action; think of doing something and (unconsciously, perhaps) you begin to do it. We might almost say that thought ‘is action; a good proof of this is found in the movements of the hand. In.the University of Wisconsin, Professor Jastrow has an instrument called the auto- matograph, which shows very clearly and precisely the automatic movements of the hand. It consists merely of a piece of glass, rest- ing on three movable metal feet; or, in other words, it is a small carriage, which will shift its position at the slightest move- ment. At the end is a needle fixed vertically, and in contact with a roll of paper covered witha layer of lamp-black. If the apparatus moves, the movement is traced on the paper by the needle. It should be mentioned that both paper and needle are hidden by a screen. Professor Jastrow tells you to rest your hand upon the glass, and keep is perfectly still. This appearsiquite easy ; but when you think that your hand is quite motionless, you find to your surprise that the needle. is tracing lines on the paper! : The fact is, you cannot keep your hand still; unconsciously and invisibly, it moves with your thoughts. Look at that pair of scales: watch how the rod goes this way and that way as the scales move. Now look at the black paper; you will find that your hand has been moving exactly in agreement with the movement of the rod. : In order to convince you still further Professor Jastrow asks you to be carefu about keeping your hand motionless on the glass, while he moves the scales first to the right and then to the left several times. He afterward shows you by the blackened paper that your hand has shifted slightly to the right and left exactly in accordance with the movement of the scales. a THIS WILL AMUSE YOU. See if you can repeat rapidly any one of the following sentences three times in suc- cession : Six thick thistle sticks. Flesh of freshly fried flying-fish. Two teads, totally tired, tried to trot to Tedbury. The sea ceaseth, but it sufficeth us. Give Grimes Jim’s great gilt gig whip. Strict, strong Stephen Stringer snared slickly six sickly, silky snakes. She stood at the door of Mrs. Smith’s fish sauce shop welcoming him in. Swan swam over the sea; swim, swan, swim; swan swam back again; well swam, swan. A haddock, a haddock, a_black-spotted haddock, a black spot on the black back of a black-spotted haddock. Susan shineth shoes and socks, socks and shoes shines Susan She ceaseth shining shoes and socks, for socks and shoes shock Susan. —_———__~+_ o> ————___- AN EYE TO BUSINESS, Little Tommy passes for a very practical outh. One day Ms Uncle John ‘proegts im, as a birthday present, a ‘‘word-game,’? which Tommy had never played, and which Ses not seem to be particularly attractive to im. Nevertheless, Tommy. did not forget to thank his uncle, and, by and by, edging around his chair, he asked: ‘*T say, Uncle John?’’ ‘*Well??? ‘‘This game really belongs to me now, doesn’t it?’’ ‘‘Why, of course.’’ ‘¢To do gust what I want with it?’’ ‘‘Certainly.’’ M. B. D., Ashland, Ohio.—We do not know ‘the books you mention. Possibly you may obtain them “Then I’Jl tell you what I’ll do—I’ll sell it to you for ten cents.’’ ; t ti GOOD NEWS. { ; - oe {more than all the rest, in a quiet way, it | r; was a meek and gentle youth who was | S| taking it all in from one of the windows. His name was Frank Terry, and he belonged ito a family who had recently moved into | that neighborhood. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Aen oe eNO Oy MOTE ad ae RUNNING BARNUM CLOSE. ‘‘Now then, ladies and gents,’’ shouted the red-faced showman, ‘‘walk up an’ see the most wonderful baby on earth! The charge of admission is only five cents. Walk up! Walk up!’’ | A good many people responded to the in- vitation, and when the booth was full, the FUN ALIVE: ON OLIVE STREET. |showman brought forward a very ordinary | baby indeed in all respects. Send 2c. stamp for Sample Book of all the FINEST and LATEST Styles in Beveled Edge, Hidden Name, Silk Fringe, Envelopeand Calling CARDS FOR 1895. WE SELL UNION CARD CO., Columbus, Ohio. CARDS GENUINE CARDS, NOT TRASH, Mention Good News. EVERY YOUNG MAN Should read the book entitled HOW TO DO BUSINESS. This book is a guide to success in life, as it not only tells how to do business, but how to succeed init. In- teresting chapters on Fundamental Principles, Kinds of Business, Qualifications for Business, Choice of a Pursuit, Mercantile Pursuits, How to Get Customers, Manufacturing, Mechanical Trades, Causes of Failure, Book-keeping, Commercial Forms, Business Vocabu- lary, etc. This book will be sent, postpaid, on receipt of TEN CENTS. Address MANUAL LIBRARY, 29 Rose Street, New York. This cut is the exact By PIO.” | Author of "Jolly Jerry.” ; Rae ay o> ; : | CHAPTER I. that moment, and the indications were | alarming. FRANK’S FRESH PRANK. ~ LIVE STREET had the reputation of being a very quiet and orderly thor- Y oughfare, particularly that block | 4>~ situate between Spring and Fountain streets. Stray dogs drooped their ears, and held their tails a little lower when they eame to this block, and jogged along in a sober, business-like fashion, as if feeling strangely out of place in so very peaceable a neighborhood. Andif one part of this particular block yas more quiet, orderly and respectable than another, it was that portion about midway between the two streets named, - which was pre-eminently so. What was the wonder, then, when one fine morning Olive street was in an uproar, and the wonder the more, that it should be this particularly staid and orderly block; and the amaze- ment, that the excitement centered in the very center of the block. Such was the situation. There was J. Baldwin Bobbs, the under- taker, of No. 60, brandishing his fists as if ‘looking for fight;’? and there was P. Smithkin Baker, the dentist, of No. 59, out with a pair of forceps in each hand, as if desperate for a victim. Not only these, but there were Mickey McDarragh, the plumber, of No. 58; Chin’Chop, the Chinese laundryman, of No. 61; Sammy Snowblow, the colored barber, of No. 62; Jacob Som- mergarten, the butcher, of No. 63, and still many others, all out in the street, and all laboring under excitement the greatest. Numerous heads protruded from the many windows above the several shops, and every face was a picture of supreme astonishment. Could this be Olive street? What a spec- tacle! A word of explanation. About a year before’ the time of our story, there had lived on this block a sign painter by name of Palette. This man Palette had an ambition to wax famous upon canvas, an impossibility; and also an unfortunate fondness for his cups, and as a consequence he neglected his trade, and was poor. And thereby hangs the tale. During one of his semi-ocecasional periods of ‘‘dead- brokenness’? he proposed to paint some special signs for his neighbors on the block at very low rates, if they would club to- gether and give him the whole job at once and his pay in a lump. To. this proposition many of the shop keepers agreed, and the result was that the block soon presented several newssigns of striking general similarity, being all of the same size and shape, yet each was quite ap- propriate for the sbop and_ business for which it was intended. The painter received his pay, his patrons were satisfied, and everybody congratulated. On the morning of which we write, it was found that most of these signs had mysteri- ously?exchanged places. Hence, the tumult. ‘‘Vas fur ein gegenstand ist das?’’ cried Sommergarten, the butcher, executing a war ’dance on the sidewalk, with a long steel in one hand, and a cleaver in the other; and he pointed at the sign which now adorned his shop front ‘‘Vat for a t’ing is it?’’ he immediately translated, to the best of his ability, having, in his excitement, first voiced the exclama- tion in his native language. ‘‘ Yust show me der mans vat put me oop dot shoke on, und see if I don’dt put hima head on pooty gwick, ain’dt id?”’ And he flourished the steel and cleaver menacingly. The sign in question had been taken from the front of the laundry next door, and looked not unlike a mad medley of geese tracks. ‘‘Yo’ think dat am bad, Mistah Sommer- garten, but jes’ look heah!’’ shouted the colored barber, Sammy Snowblow, from the other side of the street. ‘‘What do yo’ think ob dis?) Wusht I bad holt ob de man wot done et; I bet your life I would» @arb him, an’ carb him deep, too!’’ He motioned with a razor he had in hand, On the front of his shop was the sign that had been taken fronr the butcher’s store, and this is what it said: Choice Cuts at Any Time! The Very Best None Too Good, My Motto. Fresh Meat, Sausage, Tripe, etc. The sign from the barber shop had been put on the laundry. ‘‘Me no velly muchee understand him,’’ mused Chin Chop, as he stood gazing at it, his head thrown back, and his hands deep in his pockets. ‘‘Allee samee, no likee him so muchee.’’ It read thus: Clean Shave Every Time! Cut Your Hair While You Wait! Best Shampoo in the World! This is the Place for a Bath! | These exchanges, however, were trifling, when compared with the grievances of the dentist and the undertaker, of No. 59 and No. 60, respectively, and these two gentle- men were desperate, ‘* Just look at it!’’ cried J. ‘‘My business is ruined Smithkin Baker. ‘*How [I would like ;to have hold of the} \ 3aldwin Bobbs. | 1. wailed P. | wretch that did it!’’ | ‘*T’ll give ten dollars to the man who will | discover the rascal for me!’’ And Bobbs continued brandishing his fists, while Baker gesticulated with his forceps, and their tongues were not still for an.in- stant, Each of their signs, in its proper place, might possibly have been worse, but when | exchanged, the result was simply horrifying. And, if anything, the dentist had gotten the worst of it, for he now had two signs instead of one, both the undertaker’s and the | plumber’s. They read like this: F'uneral Director. When Death Comes, Come Here. Bodies Kept Without Ice. Prompt Service, Day or Night. Everything in My Line at Bottom Prices! Steam, Water, and Gas Fixtures. Jobbing a Specialty. Tin, Copper, and Sheet-Iron Work. Was it any wonder that the dentist raved, and that there was excitement? J. Baldwin Bobbs was, perhaps, the mad- dest man of them all. Some profane hand had rudely robbed his calling of all its sanctity, by putting the dentist’s sign on his shop front. This one was worded to this effect: Aches and Pains End Here! Why Suffer Longer? I’ll Stop That! High Art. Fresh Gas Every Hour. Fine Fit. Gold Crowns a Specialty. And then there wasethe shop of the plum- ber, now wearing the sign of a dressmaker from farther down the street; and—— But, perhaps we have mentioned enough, and it would be impossible to quote all. Chin Chop had been the first to make the discovery: He had called the attention of the butcher, the butcher had shouted across to the barber, and it had taken but a few mo- ments to bring out all the others mentined and a good many more. It did not take long for a crowd to gather, and as soon as the funny and ridiculous side of it all was recognized, the crowd broke out in a roar of laughter, and then the fun began in earnest. Hach victim of the joke was made desperate, and each resolved to do something. Sommergarten, the butcher, ‘made the first move. He attacked the sign of the Chinaman with his cleaver, and made match wood of it in about two seconds. Seeing that, Chin Chop attacked the barber’s sign with flat-irons, and reduced it to kindling ‘in about the same space of while. The others caught the idea immediately, and proceeded to demolish the signs of offense. Meanwhile, the crowd cheered, those who | notonly preserves GOOD NEws for future reference, and from being lost, but keeps them clean, and in | cover, It opens flatas any book, and each week’s ‘‘What is there wonderful about it?’’ asked one of the disgusted audience of the showman. ‘‘l’ye seen thousands of babies like it.”’ ‘*Well,’’? said the showman, getting near | size and style of the GOOD NEWS Club Badge. The badge is made of a high grade of German Silver; artistic in design and something every reader will be proud to an aperture in the booth, ‘‘all I kin say is that its mother sez it’s the most wonderful wear, Any reader send- ing us 10 centsin stamps or silver will receive a baby on earth, an’ if she don’t know, who ’ ’ badge. do? Yer’ll have to take the lady’s word for it!’’ he yelled, as he dodged an empty bottle _ Electrotypes for print- J ing the badge on letter heads, cards, etc., will be sent post-paid on receipt of twenty-five cents. Ten cents is all that is required to secure this handsome badge. Address Goob Nkrws Corre sponding Club, 29 Rose street, New York. The Young Gymnast. S. &S. Manual Library No. 9. Price 10c. A perfect instructor for the amateur and professional gymnasium, and of incalculable value to any one who wishes to become a gymnast. Profusely illustrated. Explains the mode of training, treatment of accidents, gymnastic exercises of the arms, dumb-bells, Indian clubs, trapeze, horizontal bar, and all sorts of tricks and feats of gymnastics. For sale by all newsdealers, or sent post paid, upon receipt of price, 10 cents, by the publishers, STREET & SMITH, 29 Rose Street, New York. We haveissned volumes two, three, four, five and six, bound in an attrac- tive heavy paper cover. ‘I'wenty-six numbers constitute a volume, Thé papers are cut and trimmed and bound with as much care as an expensive cloth binding, and the prices are Vols. 2 and 8, $1 Each. Vols. 4, 5 and 6, 85e. Each These volumes contain serial stories by Edward 8. Ellis, Horatio Alger, Jas. Otis, Edward Stratemeyer, Harry Castlemon, Wm. Murray Graydon, Walter Morris, Oliver Optic, W. B. Lawson, Lieut. Lounsberry, And others equally well known, i Address Subscription Department Goop NEWS 29 Rose street, New York. Volume One out of print, aoe So eas THE PEERLESS RECITER, J _This book contains thirty-seven selected recit® tions, humorous, pathetic, and historical. All who desire to secure recitations thatare bound to pleas? the hearers will do well to examine this book. FF sale by all Newsdealers, or will be sent, postpaid: upon receipt of price, 10 cents, by the publisher STREET & SMITH, 29 Rose Street, New York. and disappeared from view. _ —~—>-e > -- ‘““‘Why are you so naughty, Johnny? It seems to me that, with mamma worn out, and papa with a broken arm, you might try and be good.’’ ‘*Oh,”’ said Johnny, that’s just the time to be bad; no one can lick me.’’ ARRIAGE PAPER with 1,000 ads. and photos of marriageable people, many rich, lists of rare books, ete., free. GUNNELS’ MONTHLY, Toledo, Ohio. Mention Good News. way WONDER CABINET FREE, Missing Linx Puzzle, Devil’s Bottle, Pocket Camera, Latesi Wire Puszle, Spook Photos, Book of Sleight of Eo eI Hand, Total Value 60c Sent free with immense = N catalogue of 1000 Bargains for 100. for postage, ee re ay s BemSew INGERSOLL & BRO. 65 Cortlandt Street. N, ¥ Mention Good News, Good News Binder Price 50 Cents. Answers the purpose of a bound volume. fifty-two copies comfortably. Os e BOUND VOLUMES OF GooD , NEWS. Holding It is, without doubt, the finest binder ever offered even for double the price we ask, and is indispens- able to those who are keeping their papers, as it good order. Itis both useful and ornamental. It has a durable black embossed cover with flexible back, and a gold stamp title on the outside paper can be inserted as soon as received. Full directions for inserting the paper accompany each binder, We will send the GoopD N&ws binder, and a pack- age of binder pins, postpaid, to any address on re- ceipt of 50 cents. Mention Good News. OUT-DOOR SPORTS. S. & S. Manual Library No. 7; Price, 10 Cents. A book of instruction for playing many of the most popular ont-of-door games. A book that will supply a long felt want. The games introduced, while well known, are elaborated, and many new features introduced, which makes them more inter. esting and less likely to become stale. Tllustrates Mention Good News, a games with and without toys,for the city or country. | <- s ae Tyee pad ' ; . Be sure to use “Mrs. Winslow ® + avell Soothing Syrup” tov your chiar while Teething. 25 cents a bot a For sale by all newsidealers, or will be sent, post- paid, upon receipt of price. 10¢., by the publishers. STREET & SMITH 29 Rose Street, N. Y. MOTHERS THEY ——- LAST eo, We will send the following books to any address, post-paid, on receipt of the low price of 10 CEN’TS EACH, o 3 ROR 25 CENTS f é rout The stock is limited and early orders are requested. There will be no reprint editions. Make J : selection from the following list: CAMP AND CANOE; or, The Red Jackets in Florida. By St. George Rathbornes WESTWARD HO; or, The Cabin in the Clearing. By Henry L. Black. se BOY CARIBAU-HUNTERS ; or, Treasure-Trove of Hudson Bay. By Chas. B- cro ONE CENT CAPITAL; or, A Young Clerk’s Adventures. By Archie Van. ke AFLOAT WITH A CIRCUS; or, The Diamond-Seekers of Natal. By Henry L. BiG A YOUNG BLUE JACKET; or, Enlisted for the War. By Robert E, Morse- ALL ABOARD; or, ‘The Rival Boat Clubs. By Welden C. Cobb. ‘atte TOM BROWN’S PLUCK: or, The Fortunes of a Soldier Boy. By Major A. F. Oot BRIGHT AND EARLY; or, The Boy Who Became a Detective. By John Tulking WORKING HIS WAY; or, The Brookville Boy’s Club. By Dwight Welden- ARTHUR, HELMUTH. By Edward S. Ellis. THE RAJAH’S FORTRESS. By William Murray Graydon. the were looking out the windows shouted ap- plause, and everybody save the victims of to signify just how deeply he would carve the perpetrator if he only had him there at the hoax seemed to enjoy it immensely; and if there was any one person who enjoyed it a You may never again have such a good opportunity to secure stories by these celebrated au | remarkably low price of TEN CENTS EACH, OR THREE FOR TWENTY-FIVE OENT adanes STREET & SMITH, 29 Rosé’ Street, New Yam