Evening Star Newspaper, September 19, 1883, Page 3

THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON. WEDNESDAY. S HOT SPRINGS AND GE SERS, B Two Dayw Journey in the Great National Park. FRANSPORTATION BY WAGON AND PONY—FREEZ- ING AT NIGHT AND SWELTERING AT NOON. Park, August 26.—Sitting in the door of a com- modions house tent, stretched across a stout timbered frame, your correspondent sees reach- ing out to the right and left a semicircle of similar tents, 20 in number, all shining in the morning sunlight, while vager tourists are run- ning across the open space in front to look at the stream of hot water and steam which Old Faithtul. the pet geyser ot this wilderness of geysers, Is bezinning to toss high into the air with a tremendous hi The party of 25 which left Mammoth Hot Springs two days Tecovered from the fatigue inei- members who prefer stand- others who are re- backs and — sides, ences of long rides i ing to minded, of the sitting, and start trom the springs was de- s- on Friday until noon, and the sun was beatin down hotly when the Doctor, who had been put in the first detachment of m. Mr. Hat Jonists, rode off at the head of five mounts, it ne U wite of the London journalist, the second the daughter of a Chicago physician, and the third the wife of the Medical Purveyor of the Army. Two New York journalists, one a rider of expe- rience and the other quite ignorant of the hab- its of the “bucking cayuse,” completed the mounted cavalcade, the rest of the procession being made up of a large covered wagon hold- Ing seven passengers, a lighter vehicle holding three, and two others that each carried five per- sons besides the drivers. With the help of double towing-teams the horses and wagons were enabled to climb through the white dust of the Hot Springs and to the top of Terrace Mountain, the ascent of which begins within 100 yards of the hotel. So dificult were some of the hills to mount that the gentlemen ot the party and one lady, who was an excellent pedes- trian, got out dnd toiled on foot through the dust and heat, from resting bench to bench, until the top wasreached, At one side of the Toad, Just at the rid of the mountain, the ide led the way toa spring. from which every- y obtained a refreshins draught of soda and sulphur water sparkling in its clearness. Once over the mountain the road led down intoa valley, bounded on the west by foot hills that lay in the shadows of the Quadrant Mountains, upon which the snow glistened in large patches, while on the east, close to the road, were lofty hills covered with grass and thinly sprinkled with evergreens. In the bottoms, along the frequent streams, the grass grew rank and sulphury green, and there were pretty groves of dwarf willows, some knee-high, through which the road was cut, and which gave to that | sop of the valley the name of Willow ark. Away at a gallop went the guides and the mounts, seuding clouds of dust behind to find a lodging in the prairie grass. At the crossing of the Firehole and Indian creeks, which were made by fords, there was a general halt, watering of horses, and a merry passing around of the guides’ tin drinking caps. The waters were cool and able—a pleasing change from those at the 8 , which were not as good as found in the hotel. The roads, whieh were indifferent at the beginning of the Journey, became poor as the tourists proceeded, and soon after crossing Indian creek they became positively bad— searcely more than a wide trail, not cleared of stumps and stones. Beaver lake, a broaden- inz of a branch of Indian creek through the erection of dams by beavers, who had con- structed their elaborate works in irregular lines from side to side of the valley, holding the water in pretty ureen-edged basins that occurred at intervals tor more than a mile. engaged atten- tion until the party were under the Obsidian Clits. These boid and impressive walls of black glass-like rocks rise in ragged lines hun- dreds of feet above the road, and where they have been cut down, to form a bench upon which the wagon road is constructed, the frag- ments elisten like giamonds where they have been crushed by heavy wheels. There was a frantic wish to gather specimens of this black glass, and when the journey was resumed the horses were soon panting and struggling up the White Hill, a road along the side of a mountain covered with dead pines and cedars, prostrated by fires which had swept destructively through the forests years ago. ¢ of ten or fifteeen years’ growth shot up between the rotting trunks to give promise of a renewal of the once ¥igorous forest. The men of the party were again out on the road, toiling through the chalky dust. evidently the deposit of some unseen sulphur springs, now at rest, that had been belching forth their alkaline waters for an unknown number of centuries. When the top of the hill was reached, and the pedestrians turned to look to the west, they saw a magnifi- cent view of distant mountains, rising blue and faintly gray, with snow streaks along their tops, Mount Holmes towering highest of all directly in front, while Bell's Peak and the Quadrant Mountains reared their cones and pain farther to the north. Again the road led into a valley, past the Lake of the Woods, a pretty sheet encircled by dark pines and cedars, and for atime the riders on horseback and in wagons were screened by frequent natural bowers of @verhanging branches. The kind and thoughtfal gulde-book makers prepared the tourists for the horrible stench that was presently wafted under their nostrils, ‘and the eves of those of poorest sight soon dis. covered a number of springs near at hand evi- dently very strongly impregnated with sulphur. They bubbled up in the swampy soll, spreading desolation and thick layers of calcareous deposit over many acresof land. Camps of government surveyors, the station of one of the President's special line of couriers, and the halting-places ©: independent parties of tourists were passed, all sending up aromas of cooking meat and boil- ing coffee upon the cool evening air tocause the Batch excursionists to long for their own camp and supper. A brisk ride over a road along a broad meadow, with a fine pine forest rising at its edue, brought the tourists, just at dusk, to the camp at Norris Geyser Basin, The half-dozen house tents found here were pitched on a grassy slope only a few hun- dred feet from the rapid Firehole creek. After dark the air became rapidly cool, and these who had been warm but an hour before in shirt sleeves and thin jackets were anxious to put on thicker coats, and even overcoats Were not burdensome and soon became neces- sary. A large party of Philadelphians who had xXpectedly arrived earlier had already been quartered in the tents, and the sleeping accom- modations were soon exhausted. Eight per- pportioned to each tent with four after most of the ladies and the more ee Jadies—one the leep on such soft spots on the floor of the dining-tent as they could select, without mat- tresses or pillows. Your correspondent was ene of the unfortunates to whose lot it fell to be one of the sleepers on the ground. A coarse hemp carpet is rot a soft mattress, and it is not always easy to find undulations in the ground that will exactly fit the lines of tne human body. Before the blazing camp-fire, around whieh the guides and drivers had lingered to teil stories of frontier life, had been deserted an hour, and the dining-tent had been well filled with recumbent figures covered with blankets, three or four of the largest men began to snore portentousiy. The temperature fell rapidly, and after a few hours of shivering,broken rest, the “tenderfeet” of the party gave up the at- tempt to sleep, abandoned the snorers and the ten@, and, having ted the camp-fire with dead boughs from an inexhaustible supply in the neighboring groves, lay, some with their feet to the blaze. and dozed warmly in the open air until daylight. The washbasins and pitchers which had been left at the bench, where every- body performed their ablutions under the were found at sunrise to becovered with ice more than a quarter of aniuch in thickness. The camp was at an elevation of 7,500 teet above the level of the sea. No one had been oppressed by the rarified atmosphere, but sev- eral had been annoyed by repeated bleedings of the nose. The breakfast, simple and appetiz- ing. was devoured with a hearty relish, and soon after it was finished the teams were brought up, the ponies saddled, and the Bei started for the Gibbon Canon and the Upper Geyser in. During the night and early morning in camp a roaring sound, like the escape of steam from @ creat engine, had been heard coming up from the south. A few moments after the teams set out on the morning of the 25th, oe ele up a rugged hill, clouds of steam were seen I~ ing up ahead, and on the right and left. ‘ihe crest of the hill having been reached, these col- ‘umns of steam were seen to be ascending from countless boiling springs and geysers. The wag- ons stop at the of the hi; basin, and within a few foot = oot oe a fon rd a ted with wl deposi re coated wey! a in. iods of become clear, and there is nothing to suggest the light cloud of steam that the geyser e: floats away, the hot water that has been tirown out ing the eruption, and which is now running in many rivalets to the bottom of the geyser basin. The drivers stop at several geysers with names such as the Minute Man,the Monarch, and others, which are said to be active at regular periods, but which did not favor the. | inclined to disparage as not to be relied on and as of no account as compared with those of the | Upper Basin, to which the party was going. The steaming, spouting springs were distributed at frequent intervals over an area of fully a mile | square, on hill and in valleys, and everywhere the ground was covered with white and tawny crusts of deposits, under which could be heard strange rumblings, and upon which one’s foot- | fall caused a ringing sound that suggested hor- rible cayerns, into which one might be plunged by an incautious step, tobe horribly stewed | todeath. Driving through puffs and clouds of steam and across trickling streams that ran | through the sand_to show where the Monarch had the night before been throwing up its col- umn of hot water, the road led beyond the gey- sers into broad yrassy prairies, thickly dotted with blue and yeliow flowers. The prairies crossed, there was a hill to climb, and then an- other to descend, where the road was about as bad as bad could be. The descent was steep | and the way rocky, the ruts at one side three or | four teet higher than on the other. The drivers | applied their brakes and cursed the road-build- ers, and the passengers hastened to get out, preferring to walk rather than run the immi- hent risk of an upset upon the rocky hillside. The sun was very hot now, and it was difficult to realize, riding along with all superfluous clothing cast aside, that a few hours before it had beea freezing cold and that a roaring camp- fire was comfortable. When the government sees fit to make suffl- | elent appropriationsto improve the road through Gibbon Canon, and will see that the money is properly applied, it will be regarded as one of the most delightful parts of the National Park to visit. The entrance to the canon is charm- ing, and the trail, hard as it is to travel on horse or in wagon, runs picturesquely close tothe rapid Gibbon river, and crosses and recrosses it by fords, with superb views the whole distance. Fearful jolts over unavoidable boulders strain horses aid wagons, and one plunge and crash that throws all seats forward and brings every- taing up standing when it is over compels the acknowledgment from the English journalist that the wheels which will stand such usage are ajolly good testimonial to American wheel- wrights and their work. A beautiful boiling spring. whose waters are of a peculiar brilliant blue. is passed about half rey down the canon, and then the road crosses the stream te the lower side bya ford so deep as to immerse the hubs of the wheels, the bottom being covered with huge boulders of red sandstone, so far apart as to let the vehicles drop suddenly and frequently, with splashes and plunges that alarm ali the passengers. The road now led through a forest, like all the forests in the park, in being filled with dead trees, the evidences of desolating fires, and the roadway was badly ob- structed by many stumps which ought to be re- moved. A pleasant natural bower of pine and cedar boughs shut out the bright sunlight while the teams toiled up the steep road to the Gib- bon Canon Falls; and then those who dared vep- ture to slide down the side of the canon. a dis- tance of about 200 feet, over a slope destitute of grass and covered with stones that went bound- ing down between the trees with fearful velocity when started by the feet, obtained a fine view, well worth the hazardous trip down and the more difficult climb back to the top. The Gib- bonriver,coming through a gorge between lofty wooded hills, is abruptly crowded into a narrow Passage, walled by huge solid boulders of dark moss-covered rocks. The water rushes over a projecting ledge in a divided stream, one-half of which goes down ina cloud or foam, while the other is spread over the fantastically piled up bolders in delicate, lace-like streams. The distance from the top of the fall to the basin below seems to be not far trom a hundred feet, but the cliffs below rise bold and rugged and almost perpendicular to three times that height. The best climbers of the party, including the English lady and gentleman who are active members of the Alpine Cluband the little lady from Mandam, are winded by the hand-and- knee scramble to the road. and it-is voted a blessing that there are no more such chasms near at hand to be explored. Great horse-flies lit upon the flanks and necks of the horses as they trot- ted through the forest road leading up to the top of the next ridge. and when they flew away they left huge clots of blood that trickled down in red streams. These pests annoy the horses terribly during the heat of the day, but are be- numbed by the cold of morning and evening. The elk and antelope, which are now seldom seen along the beaten and frequently traveled trails, escape them by going up into the moun- tains where the air is cool and the breezes sweep the insects away. Out of the Gibbon river val- ley, and descending into the valley of the Fire- hole creek, a splendid view was had to the south and west. | The land sloped gradually, the road leading through wood and meadow, and miles | visitors at this time, and which the driver was |. THE STRATFORD MURDER. A Heinous Crime Still Involved in Mys- tery. THE STORY OF ROSE AMBLER, THE FISHERMAN'S DAUGHTER—HER MARRIAGE, DIVORCE AND NEW INFATUATION—THE PARTICULARS KNOWN CON- CERNING HER DEATH—EVIDENCES OF A VIO- LENT STRUGGLE—WHAT A RAILROAD WATCH- MAN SAW. The murder which now figures in the annals of crime, as the Stratford tragedy promises, like the Mary Stannard and Jennie Cramer murders, & peculiar Interest on account of the mystery in which it is Involved. No clue has yet been iound that points conclusively to the murderer, although many plausible theories have been an- swered. ° THE VICTIM of this murder was returning home, alone, from the house of her lover, where she was in the habit of visiting him during their engagement. On Sunday night, September 2, at 9 o'clock, he sald good-bye to her for the last time, and her lifeless body was found next morning. ina field, to which it had been dragged from the sidewalk, and upon her person were the evi- dences of a terrible struggle and marks of the violence which caused her death. Rose Ambler was the daughter ot Captain Nathan Clark, a fisherman, who cruises in his smack off Mon- tauk Point and up Vineyard sound. She lived with her father in a cosy cottage, picturesquely situated, about a mile northwest ot the New York & New Haven rail- road bridge, across the Housatonic. Rose, who was one of nine children, grew up a beautiful girl. A correspondent of the New York Sun tells her story as follows: She had blue eyes, faultless features, a delicate complexion, and dark brown hair. Her voice was musical and her manners were very engaging. Over four years ago she MARRIED NORMAN AMBLER. His father was Richard Ambler, of Old Farm, & well known saddle-tree maker. His mother is the daughter of Hull Curtis, a well-to-do farmer. Norman is the oldest of three broth- ers, When he married Rose he was a happy- go-lucky fellow, given to occasional sprees, but with neither the tastes nor the inclinations of @ silent drinker. Sturdy and well-knit, he boasted of his physical prowess, and contracted associations that were injurious tohim. He frequented the saloon of a prize fighter in Bridgeport. and seemed to have pugilistic asp!- rations. He was neither ill-tavored nor had he a bad disposition, but he was weak and easily influenced by his associates. Such was tlie man who married Rose. They lived ina large white house about half way between the Stratford de- pot and Rose’s home. Norman raised vegetables, which was marketed at Hridseport Birmingham and adjacent cities by William Lewis, whose mother was a daughter of Lisle Curtis,a brother ot Hull Curtis, Norman’s grandtather. Lewis was @ good salesman. He had a convivial die- position and drank freely, but withal saved money. He lived with Norman and Rose. The husband was not particularly attentive to his wife. Lewis split wood, brought water,and did odd chores about the house in Norman’s ab- sence. For months the wife seemed devoted to her husband. Then a daughter was born. Its birth had no perceptible effect on the father. He roistered around as usual, leaving Lewis to do the chores. Occasionally Lewis rode out with Mrs. Ambler. The neighbors began to talk, and Norman's jealousy arose. A QUARREL BETWEEN THE TWO MEN ensued, Lewis left the house, threw up his sit- uation, and went to his mother’s residence, in what 18 known as the Lisle Curtis mansion. Not long afterward Rose left her husband’s house and returned to herfather. She lef her baby with Norman’s mother, and it is said that from that day to this she has never visited it, and appar- ently has not taken the least interest in its wel- fare. She went to work in Warner’s corset fac- tory, at Bridgeport, returning homeevery night. Stratford depot was over a mile and a half from her father’s house. She usually covered the dis- tance in forty minutes. Despite his dissipated habits Norman seems to have tenderly loved his wife. He hated Lewis, and accused him of being the author of all his misfortunes. Instead of being sobered by the desertion of his wife, his dissipation increased. One day he was surprised by Conatable Dufour, who served upon him a summons to answer the petition ofhis wife for a divorce on the ground of brutal treatment. He was infuriated, saying that Lewis was at the bottom of the whole busi- ness, and that Lewis’ money was being used in the effort to obtain the divorce. He swore that whatever happened Lewis should never marry her. He made no answer to the summons, and indue time the divorce was granted, and Kose was again a free woman. Norman went from bad to worse. He was left alone with his little away it rose again, bathed in a thin haze, through which were seen the Twin Buttes, blue and cool, and beyond them, stretching peak upon peak, gray and serene, were the cones and yramidal tops of the Rocky Mountain Divide. wer down the slope one could look about and ancy himself at the bottom of a bowl, the Yel- lowstone ridge sweeping grandly to the north and weat to meet the mountains of the Conti- nental Divide as they stretched irregularly in a semi-circle trom west to east. After a drive of more than 15 miles over excessively bad roads the drivers insisted at noon on stopping to rest and feed their horses at Marshall's, a two-story timber-shack, with mud-stopped chinks, and the tourists were glad of the opportunity to eat the indifferent lunch which the proprietor furnished. Marshall is objectionable to the Yellowstone Park Improvement company, and there is no doubt they wil! endeavor to drive him from the park. He has kept his house at the forks of the Firehole for four years, and has sheltered and fed many tourists in a rude way, but the lessees, who have undertaken to build hotels and maintain camps at different points, under the lease from the Secretary of the Inte- rior, claim an exclusive privilege. Marshall's charges are high. and it is asserted that they have sometimes been exorbitant, and there is @ notice posted in his rude reception-room inform- ing him that transportation in the Park is only tobe undertaken at rates to be approved by the Interior department. Not fancying the Prospect of being compelled to break up atter e has been settled here so long, Marshall will apply to the department for permission to con- tinue. The Yellowstone Improvement company have no camp nearer than that at the Upper Geyser Basin, ten miles away. After the halt aud lunch at Marshall’s there were some changes in the disposition of the travelers, and your correspondent, wearied with the tossing, jolting and bumping inci- dental to wagon transportation, to say nothing of the frequently dusty walks up steep hills, took to thesaddile, and thenceforth confided inthe strength, speed and amiability of a bucking cayuse. The change was delightful. Nothing in the way of exercise could be more exhilarat- ing than a canter on one of these littie cranky ponies, which will gallop for hours if they have company and a good leader, and it was not long betore two of us who traveled together had ex- plored the Lower Geyser Basin. Alarge spring, that bubbles feebly, throwing up a thick white and pink mud, isthe greatest curiosity in this basin, which appears to have been full of turbu- lent springs in times past. The white and pink colors are thrown up separately, and the dividing line between them Is maintained very distinctly. There was little to enjoy beside the rapid movement for- wand and the fine views in the distance, until a stop was made close to the side of the Firehole creek, under great clouds of steam that were wafted out of an unseen basin in the higher western bank. Crossing a frail bridge and clambering the aamp alkaline path that led to the top, we soon came to the wonderful Excel- sior Geyser, in the midst of what is commonly called “‘Hell’s Half-Acre.” Approaching cau- tiously the bridk of the Excelsior pool and standing on its ragged edge, we could see, 15 ides, pace 200 feet one way and perhaps 300 the other. When the sunlight touched it the water was pale blue, and wi it was in shadow it darkened into amethyst and ultramezine and emerald green. Everywhere the water was clear as crystal, and we could see objects upon its fantastically rounded or jagged bed, except above the gm 3 spots where it boiled and seethed with ardent heat, supplied by invisible furnaces. It was impossible to face the scald- ing steam as it blew out of the chasm, where the overflow ran ype into thoes Firehole ee a ceaseless, broad, heavy stream. “Turning ie Bridal Pool, just behind the great Excelsior Far me al a nts See as nei and even more ing in the of coloring ited inits water, which boiled less viol , and in which the daughter and his widowed mother. His sprees were protracted. and they gave his mother much sorrow. From the day that she left her hus- band’s house Rose Ambler seemed INFATUATED WITH LEWIS. After her divorce was granted she openly vis- ited him at the Lisle Curtis mansion. It was fally two miles from her father’s house. The visits were usually paid in the evening, Rose re- turning home after dark. Lewis never accom- panied her on her return. He says she protest- ed against his doing so, because he had to rise so early in the morning that he needed all the sleep he could get. They were engaged to be married. Lewis had saved a few hundred dol- lars, and the wedding was to take place as soon as he could build and furnish a small house near the Lisle Curtis mansion. On Sunday, September 2, Rose visited Lewis for the last time. She arrived at the cross- Toads after sundown. Her lover greeted her at his mother’s gate. The sky was overcast,and there were indications of a storm. Lewis’ un- finished house was in plain sight. It was to be finished late in October, and the conversation turned on what was Patra furnish it. Rose to make out a list of the furniture and crockery that wasneeded. It was 9 o'clock be- fore she started homeward. The sky was as black as Ink, and it was so dark that you could hardly see your hand before your face. Lewis says he urged her to allow lim to accompany her, but she insisted on going alone, saying that she was not afraid, and that she did not want torob him of his sleep. She turned into the air-line turnpike to Milford. and her lover lost her form in the darkness. He never again saw her alive. THE ROAD TO DEATH. For a quarter of a mile the air-line turnpike has a gentle descent, There is but one house on the way. an unpainted, gloomy-looking man- sion on a high bank on the left of the road. The road itself is a simple country turnpike, fringed with dusty ferns, thistles, brambles, milk weed and golden rod. At the forks of the road at the foot of the hill Rose turned to her right over a short cross-road, and entered the main street of Stratford. From the air-line turnpike to her father’s house there are fifty dwellings. The main street is two hundred feet wide. Wide glass plots stretch on either side, shaded by monstrous elms and many-leafed maples. The sidewalks are varied according to the whims of the owners of the residences along the route. In some places there are flagstones and in others boards, but for the most part the only walk is a flinty path worn through the turf. There had been no rain for weeks, and while the road was dusty the path was unusually hard. The night was rendered more dark, if possible, by the shade of the leafy elms and maples, an more gloomy by the chirping of the katydids in their es. The only light upon the wo- man’s path was the feebie light ret from the windows of the co! embowered alon, the road, Most of them are set well back, wit turfy front yards. Half way to her father’s house Main street forks, forming a long turf le known as Paradise Grego.” tie’ echootivouss squats on ae n, cals bsienes chee faces ed base e triangle. Hose’s route la lower or Ravenstream road. “It ie Hardly as broad as Main street, and its dwellings are more ly embowered, and more scattered. Corn- fields and meadows intervene, but the turf walk the ovei elms and Is still shaded by the an long this walked bushy oe until witl hailing distance of her father’s house. Her former husband was then in his bed, twenty miles from Stratford. Her er was ecudding the waters of Vineyard sound, and her mother pad pane, to sleep, leaving a door unfastened for entrance of her daughter, convinced that she would return home safe and sound, as she had done go many times before. She never returned alive. ; The next morning the body Ade ing field, evidence that death resulted from. lon. ‘THE CLUES DISCOVERED. Bince then the ingenuity of detectives andthe learning of men of science have been employed in vain to discover proofs which will lead to the detection of her murder. When the examination was made of the body of the un- declared it to be composed of particles of the skin of a white man, and blood particles which had been torn. CG tae ith violence,astheskin had been taken off down to the quick. Another circumstance to which great weight is estab- lished is that stain’ resembling blood have been found on the seats and lap robes belonging to Lewis’ lei which Lewis, when on the wit- ness stand, declared himself unable to explain. Lewis’ mother has since stated that the stains on the lap robe were from meat she brought from market. WATCHMAN COFFRE’S MYSTERIOUS STRANGER. A telegram from Stratford a day or two ago says: A story is afloat to the effect that on the night of the 4th inst. Watchman Coffee, of the New Eng- land station at Waterbury, "had his attention drawn to a man who was Ing about the rail- Toad yard at that place incoherently muttering to himself. Coffee asked him what he wanted, and the man said he was a refugee and needed protec- tlon. On being asked where he came from, he re- plied, * Bridgeport.” Inthe same breath he cor- Tected himself and sald, “No; I mean New York.” He further sald, in his wild talk, that the woman he loved married or was about to marry another man, and he added, “She will never marry again.” Coffee remained with him for some time, the man laboring under Intense excitement, ‘The next morning (Wednesday) the man went by train to Hartford. ‘At this time Coffee had heard noth murder of Rose Ambler. When he read the par- tlculars of the crime he recalled the singular ex- ressions used by the stranger. Coffee sald: “Had known of the Stratford tragedy, I should surel! have detained that man, for I now feel the more read about the case that he had some connection with it.” ‘ A NOTE OF WARNING. legram from Waterbury Tuesday night ‘Watchman Coffee, who tells the story of a suspicious man he saw inconnection with the Ambler murder case, has recived an anonymous nove of warning from Hartford.” A BRAVE WOMAN, @ Concealing Her Own Agony to Save the Life of Her Husband: From the Pinegrove Herald. On last Sunday evening William Rump and his wite, of Cherryville, after putting their chil- dren to bed, were in front of the house jnst as twilight was gathering, amusing themselves in a playful way. The husband ran away from the house several rods, followed by his wife. In running his left arm struck the revolver which was in hiscoat pocket. An idea flashed through his mind that he would scare his wife in the darkness, and, drawing his revolver from his pocket, he aimed {t towards the bush, and, when about to fire, his wife came running up between him and the bush, and he shot her in the abdomen. She exclaimed: ‘“ Oh, Wil- lian?! you shot me.” Heturned and sald, “If Idid shoot you in this foolish way I will take my own life,” and he pointed the revolver to his head, but she caught his hand and begged him’ not to shoot, saying, “I ain’t shot.” She persuaded him to empty every chamber of the revolver into the woods, and then walked back to the house. At the house she met a boy.and told him to hurry and gst matches. Her husband heard this and quickly came to her side, and she then told him she was shot, and he should guickly go for the doctor. On his way he arot the neighbors, who went to the house and found her in bed suffering pain. Three doctors were summoned as soon as possi- ble, two from town, and Carpenter, of Potts- ville. They discovered that the ball had entered the abdomen, and think it lodged in the left hip. The wound was a dangerousone, and the woman lingered until Monday night, when death came and relieved her. The husband isin a terribly distressed state of mind. It was only recently he stood near his father and saw him buried be- neath several tons of coal in the mines, and this double affliction, 1t 1s feared, will cause him to lose his reason. ‘Mrs. Rump was about twenty- two years of age, and the mother of two child- ren. Shewas the daughter of Michael Wene- rich, of Pinegrove township. LQUISE LATEAU. Death of the Girl with the Miracul ous Wounds, of the From the Pall Mall Gazette. The death Is announced of Loutse Lateau, the stigmata of Boise d'Haine. This singular being was born on the 80th of January, 1850. She made her first communion at the age of eleven years, and began to earn her living as a seam- streas at the age of fifteen. During the cholera visitation of 1866 she exhibited much devotion in attending to the wants of the pest-stricken. In 1867 she was attacked by a lingering malady, and received the last sacrament. She was, how- ever, cured (miraculously, said her friends), but only fora short time. Early in 1868 she was said to have first experienced pain in the locality of the stigmata, and she again received the last sacrament. It is alleged, nevertheless, that she foretold her recovery, end on April 2i she ap- peared completely restored to health. The first oytward indication of the stigmata is sald to havé taken place on the 24th of April, 1868, when a wound on the side was visible, which healed the nextday. Onthe lstof May blood was reported to have issued from the up- per surface of her feet as well as from her side, and she thea confided the matter to M. le Cure. Seven days later the stigmata of the hands added themselves to the others, and M. le Cure ad- vised her to apply to the physician of Fayt, who attempted to cureher. In the course of 1868 several evidences of ecstasy are said to have oo- curred, and on September 25, 1868, the crown of thorns first appeared. After this she ceased to sleep. Her alleged complete abstinence from all nourishment began on March 30, 1871, and the wound on the shoulder appeared in the following April. Mary Anderson in London. The following is part of a criticism on the first appearance of Miss Mary Anderson in Lon- don in the character of Parthenia, in ‘“ Ingo- mar.” It was written by the well-known critic, Mr. Dutton Cook, whose death took place only @ day or two ago: If first impressions end of the proverbial superior! y of second thoughts, Miss Mary Anderson is quite the most complete and charming actress that America has given to England. It is true that Parthenia is rather ® graceful than a great part; still, {t affords its representative opportunities for the display of genuine histrionic skill. * * * Much, but, asthe event proved, not too much, had been said beforehand of Miss Anderson's beauty, and, indeed, the lady's physical gifts and graces are very remarkable. Clad in the light, soft, fluent draperies of Parthenla, the ac- tress presents a specially attractive and in- teresting figure; she is very youthtul-looking, slim and lithe’ of torm, fair of complexion, with delicate, symmetrical features of an Eng- lish type, her light-brown tresses waved and bound after the classical manner required by the character—tor Parthenla is supposed to be & member of a Greek colony flourishing at Mas- silia, the ancient Marseilles, about the year 500 B.C. Miss Anderson is very raceful ot gesture and movement, and has studied carriage and ‘attitude with a keen sense of artistic prescrip- tion, if the pictaresqua effects she obtains are less ‘suggestive of antique art than of the re- vived classicality, aiming more at prettiness than at severity, of such artists as Cosway, Angelica Kauffman, and the like. But it is not simply a question of good-looks. On the stage beauty 1s an excellent letter of introduction and recommendation, but it is not the absolute necessity to success, does not always insure it; often, indeed, the victories of the theater have been won by the plain of face, the rade of form, for genius is willing to abide in very unlike ly- woking lodgings. Miss Anderson is an acco m- cise actress; she is a mistress of er art; and in a particular range of impersonations can venture upon com- Parieons §=with any now upon the stage. Her first performance suffered from the anxiety and alg jen inseparable from the occasion. Apparently she had not absolute command of her regources; she was over eager to impress, and was induced to some excesses of manner and redundancies of movement, asin the first scene with Polydor, for instance. More- over, she had not quite suited her elocutionary method to the scale of-the theater, and did not succeed in making herself audible to its more distant corners. And something will, perhaps, always have to be forgiven her in relation to her accent and pronunciation, which strike the ear, however, not so mt as American as French—at any rate, they are not pure forgive becomes almost forges and fim Nery forgive oat mn, Is this defect remediable? But is be trusted, in spite ler quickly changing looks the text she delives Bho. fe. entiraly td fected; her ‘excoeding naturalness in #0 emi- saLote pees” THE TRUANT OF THE OCEAN. Anglers Happy Over the Opening of the Bass Season. THE GAMEST FISH IN THE WATER, HIS HIDING PLACES AND HOW TO HOOK HIM. From the New York World. The advent of the September equinox heralds the first appearance of the striped bass in the waters about New York and its vicinity. The storm of wind and rain, accompanied by cold nights with frost, drives the sportive bass from the deep waters of the sea into the shoal water of the harbor, rivers and creeks which abound at this port. This fish isto the angler what the woodcock isto the crack gunner. Next to the speckled trout the bass isthe gamest fish that swims. He is a thoroughbred in everything, and has the most particular taste, the keenest sense of smell, hearing and observation. The rivers and creeks along the banks of shoal waters are filled with eel-grass and sedges, where the shrimp make their home, and the choice tood of the bass is a live and kicking shrimp. Here on a cold frosty morning the bass fisher finds the striped beauties coming through the shallows in a hurry and snapping at everything in the shape of a delicious morsel. The bass bite rapidly and take the bait as fast as it is thrown over if you can get a good spot. When. once hooked the fun begins. He is a game fish and fights for his lite. Green hands find it diffi- cult to catch bass from the trouble that is ex- perlenced in landing them, and very often they Ue the game just in sight above the water to id that the tackle will not stand the strain, ‘and to see the fish with his mouth wide open fly off with hooks, sinker and leader. He has to be “played” to land him properly, ‘and this can only be done by letting him have his own way and go off with your reel spinning. When near the end of the line he must be wound in slowly and again let out until in his efforts to escape he exhausts his strength and comes into the boat, a prize of patience, dexterity and ex- perience. The New York fisherman is an expert on bass fishing, for he loves the sport and follows it with persistency way into the winter, until the snow and ice of the blustering weather drive him home numbed with the cold. : THE OLDEST FISHERMAN. Hoboken boasts of a fisherman seventy-three years of age, who every winter sits out on the “river walk” piers and fishes in an overcoat, with gloves on his hands. Bass fishing requires study, for the animal is as changeable asa school girl in its likes and dislikes. It frequents cer- tain tides, and in different localities demands a change of bait and tackle. Inthe East river, about Hell-Gate, the first of the flood-tide is the best for bass. Here, where the strong eday makes off Brown's Point, and the rapid whirl- ools of water come dashing by Blackwell’s island, the bass is allve and on the lookout for @ morning meal. He will dive past you and shoot up to the Gate with your hook in his mouth, as though life wastoo short fora parley, and unless he is handled with care, your line, pole and reel will go along with him. In early fall he seeks the Hudeon river first, ‘and makes his appearance along the New Jersey shore and off Manhattanville on this side of the river. The old sugar house above the Trinity church burying ground at 150th street is still a favorite hauntof the bass. Off Fort Washington Point, where the river makes a bend, there is a rock known to the old fishermen as ‘‘Weak Fish Rock.” -With a small line, a light sinker and a float on a bass morning you can’t miss them. At Kingsbridge the bass run very small, but in great abundance, and from their unitorm size they have derived the name of Kingsbridge bass. Some of the old city piers are still the home of the bass, who find it hard to leave their ancient feeding grounds. Between the piers at the Christopher street ferry some very large bass are taken during the season. The Dutch Kills, off Staten Island, are good bass water, and at the right tide Robbin’s Reef Light-house is consid- ered a fair spot. Randall's Island Shoals, Bow- ery Bay and the Harlem Flats are good bass grounds on the east side, while the “Cove” at Hoboken, the oil-dock wharf and along the shore from Shady Side to Fort Lee inthe Hudson river afford fine bass fishing. WHERE TO CATCH TIDE RUNNERS. The size of the fish depends largely on the lo- cation. The average fish is from a pound to three pounds, while occasionally stray bass known as “tide runuers,” often weigh eight and tenpounds. ‘Uncle Billy Cameron” at his boat house on the Hudson last season took an eight- pound bass. He has commenced fishing and predicts a good season this year if the oil damp- ing scows do not drive the fish away. “Pop Russell.” of Hoboken, is a champion bass fisher, and has made some very successful ‘‘casts” this season. He caught ten beauties just above the bath-house on the Hoboken shore one morning last week. The bass baitis a peculiar part of the fisher- man’s lesson. aha are catching them now with blood worms in the Hudson river and with shrimps on the East river. Later in the season the bass will only bite on “shedder” crabs, and as the winter sets in they will take clam bait. Among the favorite spots for bass is across creek at the upper end of Broad Channel at Rockaway. Here the bass come in to feed and spawn in large quantities, and they are reported “big and hungry” by the fishermen in that lo- cality. ‘Cheesequake Creek” and the “Cow Pen” at Keyport are famous bass fishing grounds, and the New York fisherman ts pre- paring to make his fall exodus in that direction. Another point sought by the devotees of Ike Walton is the Hackensack River bridge and channel at the lower end ot Newark bay. Here the bass run full and free in search of the shal- lows along the Jersey meadows. They are fre- ens caught in water not over two feet in lepth with @ float to keep the bait off bottom. The New York fishermen are not given to story- telling of eee great exploits. As a class they are reticent and non-committal, especially the bass-fishe?, and if he has a basket full ot fish he will not let yeu know where he caught them for fear you will fish up his grounds. He sits in his boat, or off the pier, without speaking, and if you talk he will tell you to keep still or he will catch no fish. The bass are easily frightened and the splash of a heavy sinker will drive them away not to return. Thirty-pound bass are to be seen in Fulton market during the season. They are caught off Fire Island, Montauk Point and Cape Cod, sometimes running in at Newport. As a table fish the bass has few superiors. The flesh 1s white and hard, and broiled fresh from the water has a very appetizing flavor. In piscato- rial parlance it is known as the “Truant of the ean.” —+e-—____ The Blue-Grass Country. ‘W. H. Bishop, in Harper's Magazine for October. The blue-grass country is reached by travers- ing central Virginia and Kentucky along the line of the picturesque Chesapeake and Ohio allway, unless, indeed, one prefers the swift and solid Pennsylvania route to Cincinnati and drops down to it from the north. On this par- pale outa at any rate, it was reached past the battle fields and springs of Virginia, and up and down the long slopes of the Blue Ridge and gorges of the Greenbrier and Kanawha, in the wilder Alleghanies. It is found to be a little cluster of peculiarly favored counties in the center of the state. Marked out onthe map it is like the kernel, of which Kentucky is the nut; or like one of those ‘‘pockets” of ious metals happened upon by miners in their re- searches. The soil is of a rich fertility, the sur- face charmingly undulating. Poverty seems abolished. On every hand are evidences of thrift corresponding with the genial bounty of Homp, and land thee wil grow hemp will and land that wi yw hemp grow ri being hore and more with- drawn in favor of stock raising exclusively, but the tall stacks of hemp, in shape like Zulu wig- wams, still plentifally dot the One drops into horse talk immediately on ped trom the train at Le: and does no! &' é E 19, 1888—DOUBLE SHEET. SHOT THROUGH THRE HEART. Young Adolph Hamann Ends His Life After a Party—Taking a Last Look at @ Young Woman’s Portrait and Then Lying Down to Die, From the New York World, 18th. Adolph H. Hamann shot himself about two o'clock yesterday morning at the residence of his parents, No. 258 W.128th street. He was but twenty-two years old and held the position of exchange clerk with Schultz & Ruckgaber, bankers, at No. 22 Williams street, where he had been’employed for the past four years. The cause ‘of his suicide is a mystery, even to his own family, although they are under the impression that the most likely explanation could be given by a certain young lady to whom the young man had been paying attention. THE BALL IN HIS HEART. The police report that the man shot himself In the mouth and that the ball penetrated the brain, but the post mortem examination by Dr. Jenkins, deputy coroner, showed that the ball entered the heart, the revolver having been tightly pressed to the breast just below the nip- pe, ashis shirt and undershirt were torn and lackened only about the size of the diameter of the muzzle, John H. Hamann, the young man’sfather,told the deputy coroner that his son left home atter dinner Sanday evening in his usual good spirits to attend a private party. Shortly before two o'clock Monday morning his mother heard him enter the house, slamming the door, an unusual thing with him, and walk heavily up stairs. Five minutes later Mrs. Hamann heard the report of 8 pistol shot, but, supposing it to come from the street, paid little attention to it. THE PARENTS’ DISCOVERY. Immediately afterward, however, she heard something fall in the room occupied by her son, which was Just over her. Without awakening her husband she proceeded to her son’s room and found the door locked. She called her son twice, but received no response. Mr. H: ann hearing her voice went up stairs and open. the door. Adolph was found on the bed on his back, with blood flowing from his mouth. The mother placed her arm under his head, and par- tially raising him, spoke to him, but he did not recognize her, nor did he speak a word, and died before a physician arrived. 18 IT A CASE OF DISAPPOINTED LOVE? ‘The weapon, a small revolyer, lay upon the floor beside the bed. Its fall had aroused the mother. The bureau drawer where he usually kept the revolver was open, showing that after taking off his coat and vest he had hurriedly secured the pistol and fired the fatal shot, hav- ing evidently made up his mind to take his life before he ee ae upon a bureau lay a solitary full-size photograph of a young lady, which usually rested against the mirror. It was the picture of the young lady before re- ferred to. What her name is or where she lived the mother either did not know or would not disclose. Apparently he had been taking a last look at the picture. The parents had but recently returned from an extended tour in Europe, and have lived at their present home about three weeks. It was at first supposed that during their absence the son had become financially embarrassed, but in- quiry of one of the bank officers showed that his accounts and conduct were above suspicion. Adolph was the youngest of three brothers, and at one time was a member of the New York Athletic club. He had many warm friends,none of whom could fora moment advance any idea why he should take hislife, ashe had not spoken to them of being in trouble inany way. He was tall, and gone eae, with a good physique, The body has been embalmed. he time of the funeral has not, been decided upon. The in- quest will be held to-day. ————__9, THE ART OF WAR. Sugges- by i When Frank Plerce was President Jeff Davis, then Secretary of War, issued a general invita- tion to officers of the army who were skillful draughtsmen to send in suggestions for the new uniform which it had been decided to adopt. One such invitation was sent to each officer. Lieutenant Derby (‘John Phoenix”) was ready with his pen—a really ingenious artist. In reply he sent to the War department a design for a newuniform. The amendment consisted merely ofa ring attached to the seat of the trousers of each private soldier. Each officer was to A inatead of a sword, a long pole witha hook in the end like a shepherd's crook. The pole and the ring enabled officers to keep privates feom running away in battle. Fugitives could easily be caught by it and brought back. Straggiers could be kept in line. Moreover, the ring would be very useful in the cavalry service to fasten soldiers to the saddle, to prevent them from falling off; and in the artillery service the rings were to be used for draught purposes in the absence of mules. These specifications were accompanied by the most grotesque pic- tures, representing officers hauling back cowardly recruits by the serviceable ring, cav- alry securely fastened to the top of their steeds by the same device, and artillerymen harnessed to a cannon, drawing them through narrow de- Some Remarkable Military tions Made to Jeff Davis Phenix. nstrat renee =e ol if ion in gaudy colors of ** ‘s Rotary Mule-Howitzer,” accompanied by the piewig description: “Upon the back of a young an vigilant mule strap a mountain howitzer, the muzzle pointing toward the tail. A similar Piece of ordnance is fastened with iron bands under the animal's abdomen, the muzzle aimed —— ze errs fd the a. Soe four in wo aplece—and a “a as bes called, whose business it is to persuade the mule to stand, and not retreat, by stuffing him with oats after each discharge with a tin gal fer. When Indians, or other legiti- mate game, appear in view, the mule is, by a crank movement on the tail, limbered to the front. It doesn’t make any difference which way the mule faces (and here is where my pat- ent comes in), one gun is always pointing to- ward the front. At the command, ‘Fire!’ the the mule on his back, bringing the second gun into position. This is discharged, which sud- denly throws the mule to his feet again, when the gunners swab out the mule's throat with hay and reload.” The accompanying illustrations (in brown, red, blue, and gold, and still on file in the War department) represented the rotary mule in seven different attitudes, looking contented and happy all the time. ‘his was felt to be outrageous audacity on the part of a subaltern. The clerks in the War de- partment laughed at the tunny letter immoder- ately. but their superiors looked serious. Jeffer- son Davis, the head of the bee seta gr) was terribly indignant, and he re@olved to defend his wounded dignity. Chi tions were drawn up against Lieutenant Derby, and the officers were actually named for his court-martial, when Wm. L. Marcy, Secretary of State, a man of more sense and self-poise, said to the irate sien! “Now, see here, General Davis, don’t dv it. ‘is Derby has undoubtediy superfluous development of humor. But he is shrewd and ingenious, and really a- fine draughtsman. He has valuable qualities. You nothing.” - ——_—__+o-___ SEEN FROM THE CONFESSIONAL, Father McCabe Catches = ‘Thief at the Poor Boxes in St. Paul’s Catholic From the New York Sun, 18th. i BE i i : ik HM rife EESEE Hy id 5 g iy G I ¥ TAKING AYER'S SARSAP, Bohccrsutterer who suvmiits tor ther actctte Cede because of malignant sores and scrofulous the corruptions which pollute the blood, and by whic’ \ such complaints are originated and fed. YER'S AGUE CURE Ai IRECTLY ON THB A Tre cod was eters pay a 8 8 larial poleon which inauces liver complaints and Diliows disorders, Warranted to cure or money refunded. Paras Rovax. WE HAVE JUST RECEIVED A LOT OF IMPORTED JERSEYS, WHICH WILL BE SOLD AT THE VERY LOW PRICES AS QUOTED BELOW: ‘The Best JERSEY in the Market at $2.40. Fine CLOTH JERSEY, with CUFFS, at $2.93, Fine BRAIDED JERSEY at $3.68. Fine JERSEY, Fiaited Back, with Bow, at $9.98, ‘Handsome JERSEY, Braided Back and Front, with CUFFS and BOW, at $5.98, ‘There is no JERSEY IMPORTED can equal our FRENCH TRIMMED. Itis very Fine, with or without POCKETS, at $6.98, ALL OUR JERSEYS JUST RECEIVED ARB CLOSE AND HEAVY-WEIGHT, FOR THE FALL TRADE. sepl3 1117-1119 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE, a Cresrxo Ocr OUR ENTIRE STOCK OF BOYS’ CLOTHING AT A SACRIFICE, On account of not having enough space for BOYS CLOTHING DEPARTMENT I have determined to close the same out, and I now offer the following bar- gains: One Lot of 85 SUITS from 5 to 11 at $2.90, former ‘rice $4.50, One Lotof 140 SUITS from 6 to 11, choice at $3.80 former price $5.50 and $6. ‘One Lot of the best DIAGONAL and SCOTCH GOODS: at $4.90, former price $7. One Lot of SINGLE PANTS sold from $1.50 to $2.50, now choice, 98 cents, BARGAINS IN MISSES’ FALL ULSTERS AND HAVELOCES AT A DISCOUNT OF ONE- THIRD FROM THE REGULAR PRICE. CALL 80ON AND DON’T BE DISAPPOINTED, 3 & 80 duet o BB AA ¥ MMMM G08: 4 So Pee 416 SEVENTH STREET. sepl0 ey OPENING 0) TTERN HATS AND FR OFNE Sater EAT oops Real Laces, Parisian Neckwear, Trimming Laces an a derecye in Hew styles and colors, inate exclusively to ‘i M. WILLIAN, my Toit’ 907 Pennsylvania avenue. ‘Treviee, Paris. Feathers dyed and recurled equal to new ones. sepig} FOR FRUIT ARS J. W. SCHAEFER’S, auls ‘NO. 1030 1TH STREET NORTHWEST. Everymixe New AND Haxopsour FOR THE FALL TRADE DN CARPETS, BUGS, MATS, LACE CURTAINS AND UPHOLSTERY GOODS, For the Lowest Cash Prices, at SINGLETON & HOEKE’S, sept 801 MARKET SPACT. SAVING BANK—WHERE OU CAN. Psicet a suit of Cothiny ang deportt no m1 an balance in weekly payments ‘Men's Winter Suit 10 and Men's bio huts from $8 {e848 and up * School Suite, from $4 to $8 and uj CIDER, VINEGAR, AND SPICES. JOHN H. MAGRUDER, 1417 New York avenue, sepl-Im ——__——_________a, \ARPETS AND HOUSEFURNISHING GOODS. re are daily recet our full supply of loquette, Roxbury Honsctare Shove designe in Bigelow, Lowell aad Warcord Wir ‘and? Hartiord oc Axmin- a Tarot Lowen "Bordered ‘Carpets, abel 5g 1111 Pa. Ave., Washington, D.C. iy