Evening Star Newspaper, August 15, 1891, Page 7

RICHARD HARDING DAVIS. THE REPORTER WHO MADE HIVSELF KING. WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR BY RICHARD HARDING DAVIS. Continued, PART IL H old hypocrite,” he cried, half angry and half laugh- ing. “If he thinks I am going to stay here alone he is very greatly mis- taken. And yet, why not?” he asked. He stop- ped soliloquizing and looked around him, think- ing rapidly. As he stood there Stedman came in from the other room fresh and smiling from his morning's bath. “Good morning,” he said; “where's the consul?” “The consal,” said Albert, gravely, “in me 70% see the American consul to Opeki.” “Capt. Travis,” Albert explained, “has re- turned to the United States. I suppose he feels that he can best serve his country by remain- ing on the spot. Incase of another war now, for instance, be would be there to save it ag: md what are you going to do?" asked man anxiously. he intended to remain where ci perform his consular duties, to ap- t him his secretary of legation, and to vate the United States in the opinion of the Opekians above all other nations, “They may not think much of the United States in Kussia,” he «aid, “but we are going to teach Opeki that America is first om the map end that there is no second. “I'm sure it's very good of you to make me ar secretar, said Stedman, with some i. “I hope I won't make any mistakes. hat are the duties of a consul’s secretary?” “That,” said Albert, “I do not know. But You are rather good at inventing, so you can invent afew. That should be your first duty, and you should attend to it at once. I will have trouble enough finding work for my- self. Your salary is @500 year. And now,” be continued briskly, “we want to prepare for this reception. We can tell the king that Travis was just a guard of honor for the trip, ‘nd that I have sent him back to tell the Presi dent of my safe arrival. That will keep the Yresident from getting anxious. There is nothing,” continued Albert, “like s uniform to impress the people who live in the tropic. Travis has two in his trunk. He intended to wear them on state occasions, and as I inherit the trunk and all that is in it, I intend to wear one of the uniforms, and you can have the other. But I have first choice, Tam eonsul.” Capt Travis’ diplonmtic outfit consisted of one full dress and one undress United States uniform. Albert put o the dress coat over pair of white flannel trousersand looked re- markably braveand handsome. Stedman, who was only eighteen and quite thin, did not ap- pear so well, until Albert suggested his padding out his chest and shoulders with towels. This made him rather warm, bat heiped his general “Tithe two Bradleys mast dress “The two mast too," said Albert." “T think they ought toactaea’ guard of honor, don't you? The only things I hav. are blazers and jerseys, but it doesn’t muci Suatteg whet Gay wear as long as they dress ai He accordingly called in the two Bradleys and gave them euch a pair of the captain's re- Jected white duck trousers and @ blue jersey with « big white ¥ on it. “The students of Yale gave me that,” he said to the younger Bradley, “in which to play foot ball, and e great man gave me the other. His name i Walter Camp, and if you rip or soil tha: jersey Pll send you back to England in ~ “ r careful.’ “Stedman gazed at his companions in their 4ifferent costumes doubtfully. “It reminds te,” he said, “of private theatricals; of the time our church choir played “Pinafore.” “Yes,” assented Albert, “bat I don't think we look quite gay enough. I need—medals. You nev diplomat yet Without @ lot of decorations ‘and medain” “Well, Ican fiz that,” Stedman said. “I've gota bag full. I used to be the fastest bicycle Fider in Connecticut and I've got all my prizes with me.” Albert said doubtfully that that Wasu't exactly the sort of medal he meant. “Perbaps not,” returned Stedman, as he be- g*0 fumbling in his trunk, “but the king ‘Won't know the difference. He couldn't tell # cross of the Legion of Honor from a medal for the tug of wa So bicycle medals, of which Stedman seemed to have an innumerable quantity, were strung in profusion over Albert's uniform aud fu a lesser quantity over Stedman's, while a Bandful of leaden ones, those sold om the streets for the coustitutional centennial, with which albert bad provided himself, were wrapped up fu ered silk handkerchief for presentation to With them Albert placed # number of and brass cbains, much to Stedman's ted approval. “You're the right sort of a consul,” he ssid; “Jeffersonian simplicity is all very well af bome, but when you go abroad and mix with @rowned heads, you waut to show them that You know what's what.” “Well.” said Albert, earnestly, “I sincerel; hope this crowned heed don't’ kuow whaty what If be reads ‘Connecticut Agricultural te Fair. Oue-mile bicycle race. First PFze- 0B this badge, when we are trying to e him believe it's # war medal, it may hurt Bis foclings.” Bradley, jr., went ahead to announce the a: cach of the American embassy, which be id with so much manner that the king de- ed the audience « balf hour, in order that de wight better prepare to receive his visitors. When the audience did take place it attracted the entire population to the green spot in front of the king's palace, aud their delight and excitement over the appearance of the Visitors wae wild aud hearty. The king was too polite to sppear much surprised, but he showed bis delight over his presents as simply On be insisted on rt him three times op the forehead, which Stedman assured bim After this reception the em marched Dack to the consul’s office, surrounded by an fmmonse number of the natives, some of whom en ahead and looked back ‘at them, and @rowded so close ou them that the two Bradleys bad to poke at the nearest ones with to Bake © speech, which he ingly “Aid, whic! accordingly di Gtodman translating it sentence ihe At the conclusion of this effurt Albert dis- ‘Wibuted « umber of brass rings among the Married men present, which they placed on — Auger fitted best, amd departed de- Albert had wished to give the to the Women, but Stedman pointed out to thet it would be much cheaper to give them to She married men, for while one could oni, usband, man Soald baveat least wines a “and now, Stedman,” said Albert, after the mob bad gone, “tell Seen me what you are doing “Tam the tative or agent or operator fer the Youobame Cavle Company, ‘The Toko. officers of the com would buy their stoc! lieved in them or their scheme, they cable to Octavia, and extended it on to this island. Then they announced that they had Tun out of ready inoney and would wait til they got more before ng cable an: it further. I do not think ever will la ‘My business is to answer cable messages San Francisco, so that the people who visit th home office can see that at least a part of the cable is working. That sometimes impresses stock. in Octavia who and allof my replics come to me through sometimes they over bay relays all my messag to thoso messages that him from San Francisco. They never send a message unless they have brought some ope to the office whom they want to impress, and who they think has money to invest in| gress the Y. C. y found that no one and that no one be- laid a ¥ farther, but that is none of my business. from C. stock, and so we never go near the wire except at 3 o'clock every afternoon. And then generally only to say ‘How are you?" “Well,” said Stedman, “if you will allow me precyivell T weld here all tones suaguozes retty wel woul ve Some trom’the President direct" “The President!” exclaimed Gordon; “but how? what does the President know or care about Opeki, and it would take so long—oh, I see, the cable. Is that what you have been doting?” he asked. APES, ell, only once,” sai " that was when he wanted an’ Hf to turn me out of stay where Iwas. Ollypybus docsn't under- stand the cable, of course, but he knows that it sends 8, and sometimes I pretend to send messages for him to the President, but he got to asking mo to ask the President to come and pay him a visit and I had to stop it” “I'm glad you told me,” said Gordon. “The President shall begin to cable tomorrow. He will need an extra appropriation from Con- to pay for his private cablegrama alone.” “and there's another thing,” said Stedman. “In all ‘our plans you've arranged for the peo- or ‘It's raining,” or something like that. I've | ple's cultivation, bat, not for their amusement, been saying ‘It's raining’ now for the last | and they are a ‘peaceful, jolly, simple sort of three months, but today I will say that the nd we must amuse them.” new consul has arrived. That will be a pleas- ant surprise for the chap in Octavia, for he must be tired hearing abcut the weather. He generally or someih rs ‘Here too,’ or ‘So you said,” 7 am, and that’s why they twoends. He can see that to please possible bers.” rt of copy editor,” suggested Albert. “Yes; something of that sort, I fancy,” said Stedman. ‘They walked down to the little shed on the where the ¥.C.C. office was placed at that day and Albert watched Stedman send off his message with much interest. The “chap at Octavia,” on being informed that the aired shore 3 American consul had arrived at Opeki, somewhat disrespectfully, “Is it » “THE MISERABLE | ©” “What does he mean by that?” asked Albert. “I suppose,” said his secretary doubtfully, “that he thinks it a sort of a punishment to be sent to Opeki. I hope you don't grow to think so.” “-Opeki is all very well,” said Gordon, “or it will be when we get things going our way.” As they walked back to the office Albert dis- covered @ brass cannon perched on & rock at the entrance to the harbor. This had been put there by the last consul. but bad not been fired for many years. Albert immediately ordered the two leys to get it in order and to rig up a fiag pole beside it for one of his American fags, which they were to salute every night when they lowered it at sundown. ‘And when we are not using it,” he said, “the king can borrow it to celebrate with if he doesn’t impose on us too often. The royal salute ought to be twenty-one guns, I think, but that would use up too much powder, so he Will have to content himself with two.” “Did you notice,” asked Stedman that night, as they sat on the veranda of the consul’s house in the moonlight, “‘how the people bowed to us we passed? “Yes,”” Albertsaid, he had noticed it. “Why?” “Well, they never saluted me,” replied Sted- man. “That sign of respect is due to the show we made at the reception.” “It is due to us, in any event,” said the con- ge ee tary, that th be. ‘you, my secre '” it we, as the rey sentatives of the United’ States prdescinh at must be properly honored on this island; wo Ss A FLAG OF TRUCE. ie that. I don’t know what he says to the home office. He’s brighter than I at him between the the messages are transmitted more fully and more correctly in a ™ Peopl “Have they no games nor amusements of their own?” asked Gordon. “Well, not what we call games.” “Very well, then, ' teach them base ball. Foot ball would be too warm. But that plaza in front of the king’s bungalow where his pslace is going to be is just the place for a dia- mond. On the whole, though,” added the con- sul after a moment's retlection, “you'd better attend to that yourself. Idon't think it be- comes my dignity as American consul to tak off my coat anu give lessons to young Opekia in sliding to base, do you?" No, J think yi better do that. ‘ihe Bradleys will belp you youbad better begin tomorrow. You ha en wanting to know whot a secretary of lege tion’s duties are, and now you know. It’s toor- ganize base nines. And after you get | your's ready,” he added, ns he turned into his room for the night, “I'll train one that will sweep yours off the face of the island. For this American consul can pitch three curves.” Tho best Iuid plans of men go astray some- times, and the great and beautiful city that ‘as to rise on the coast of Opeki was not built inaday. Nor was it ever built. For before the Bradleys could mark out the foul lines for the base ball field on the plaza, or teach their standing army the goose step, or lay bamboo pipes for the water mains, or clear away tl cactus for the extension of the king’s palace, the Hillmen paid Opeki their quarterly visit. Albert had called on the king the next morn- ing with Stedman as his interpreter, as he had decided to do, and with maps and sketches had shown his majesty what he proposed to do toward improving Opeki and ennobling her king, and when the king saw Albert's free-hand | sketches of wharves wi ll ships lying at snehor, and rows of Opekian warriors with the Bradleys at their head, and the design for his new palace, and a royal sedan chair, he believed that these things were already his and not still ouly on paper, and he appointed Albert his | prime minister of war, Stedman his minister of | home affairs, and selected two of his wisest and oldest subjects to serve them as joint advisers. His enthusiasm was even greater than Gordon's, because he did not appreciate the difficulties. He thought Gordon a semi-god, a worker of miracles, and urged the putting up of a monu- ment to him at once in the public plaza, to which Albert objected on the ground that it would be too suggestive of an idol, and to which Stedman also objected, but for the less unselfish reason that it would “be in the way must become @ power; and wo must do so without getting into trouble with the king. We must make them honor him, tov, and then as we push him up we will push ourselves up at the same time.” “They don't think much of consuls in said Stedman doubtfully. “You see the Inst one was a pretty poor sort. He brought the office into disrepute and it wasn’t really until I came and them what a fine country the United States was that they had any opinion of it at all. Now, we must change all that “That is just what we will do,” said Albert. “We will transform Opeki into « powerful and beautiful city. We will make these people work. They must put up a palace for the king and lay out streets and build wharvesand drain the town properly and light it. I haven’t seen this patent lighting apparatus of yours, but you had better get to work at it at once and TU persuade the king to appoint you commis- sioner of highways and gas, with authority to make his people toil. And 1,” he cried, in free enthusiasm, ‘will “You just go bunt’ up old Messenwah and the Hillmen with your standing army once and you'll get all the fighting you want.” “The Hillmen?” said Albert. “The Hillmen, or the natives that live up there in the hills,” Stedman said, nodding his head toward the three high mountains at the other end of the island that stood out blackly against the purple moonlit sky; “there ere nearly as many of them as there are Opekians, and they hunt and fight for a living and recrea- tion. They have an old rascal named Messenwah for a king and they come down here about once | every three months and tear things up.” Albert sprang to his feet. “Oh, they do, do they?” ho said, staring up at the mountain tops. “They come down bere and tear up things, do they? Well, 1 think We'll stop that. 1 think we will stop that. I don’t care how many there are. I'll get the two Bradleys to tell me all they know about drilling tomorrow morning and we'll drill these Opekians and have sham battles and attacks aud repulses until I make a lot of wild, howling Zalus out of them. And when the’ Hillmen come down to pay their quarterly visit they'll go back again on a run; at least some of them will,” he added ferociously. “Some of them will stay right bere.” “Dear me, dear me,” eaid Stedman with some awe; ‘you are a fighter, aren't you?” jell, you wait and see,” said Gordon; “m be Iam. I haven't studied the tactics of Ww and (the history of battles so that I might Ue a great war correspondent without learnin something. And there is only one king on this island and that is old Fer idea himself. And Tl go over and have talk with him about it to- morrow.” Young Stedman walked up and dowa the — of the veranda, in and out pf the moonlight, with is hands in his pockets head on his chest ou've got me all stirred up, Gordon,” he sald; “you seem so confident and bold—and you're not so much older than I “hfy training has been differant, tha “My trait ferant t's all,” said the const = Zen” Stedman eld bitterly, “T have been aitting in an office ever since I left school,sen: ing news over a wire or a cable, and you have been out in the world gathering it.” “And now,” said and putting his arm around the other boy's shoulder, “we are foing to make news ourselves.” “There is one thing I want to say to you be- fore you turn in,” sald Stedman. “Before you spring all theso improvements on Oliypybus, ‘Ou must remember that he has ruled nbso- ately here for twenty years, and that he doosn't think much of con: He has only seen your predecessor and yourself. He likes you because youcame to him with «great show. and be- cause of presents, but if I were you I wouldn't suggest these improvements as com- 6, 4,” said Gordon, “Who from yourself. “I don't underst could they como his | that snapped, =e at See Pa nee of the pitcher's box.” They were feverishly discussing all there great changes, and Stedman was translating ag rapidly as he could translate the speeches of four different men, for the two counsellors had been called in,’ all of whom wanted to speak at once, when ‘there came from outside many shouts, and the screams of women, and the clashing of iron, and the pattering footsteps of men running. As they looked at one another in startled ion a native ran into the room, fol- lowed by Bradley, junior, and threw himself down before the king. While be talked, beat- ing his hands and bowing before the’ king, Bradley, junior, pulled his forelock to the con sul and told how this man lived on the far out- skirts of the village—how he had been caj tured while out hunting by a number of the Hillmen, and how he had escaped to tell the | people that their old enemics were on the war-path again and rapidly upproaching the village. Outside the women were gathering in the plaza, with the children about them, and the men were running from hut to hut, warning their fellows and arming themselves wi spears and swords and the native bows and ar- rows “They might bave waited until he had that army trained. said Gordon in a tone of the k, what do women and set fire to the huts in the outskirts,” replied Stedman. “Well, we must stop them,” said Gordon, jumpizg up. “We must take out a flag of truce and treat with them. They mus: be kept off | until Ihave my army in working order. It is most inconvenient. If they only waited two months, or six weeks even, we could have done something, but now we must make peace. Tell the king weare going out to fix things with them, and tell him il off his warriors until he learns whether we succeed or fait. | _ “But, Gordon!” gasped Stedman, “you don't | understand. Why, man, this isn’t a street fight oracane rush. ‘They'll stick yeu fullof spears, dance on your body and eat you, maybe. A flag of truce—you're talking nonsense. What | do they know of a fiag of truce?” “You're talking nonsense, too,” said All “and you're talking to your superior oZicer. If you are not in this with me go back to your cable and tell the man in Octavia that it's a warm day and the sun is shining, but if you've any sporting blood in you—and I think you bave—you run to the office and get my Win- chester rifles and the two shotguns and my re- | volvers and my uniform and a lot of brass | things for presents and run all the way there ‘and back. “And make time. Imagine you're | riding a bicycle at thé agricultural fair.” | Stedman did not bear this last, for he was | already off and away, pushing through the | crowd and calling on ‘Bradley, sr., to follow ‘him. Bradley, jr., looked at Gordon with eyes ike a dog that is waiting for | master to throw a stone. | ,, “Lean fire a Winchester, sir,” he said, “Old j Tom can’t. He's no good at long range, ‘cept | with big gun, sir. Don't give him tho Wine chester. “Give it to me, please, sir.” Albert met Stedinan in the plaza and pulled off his blazer and put on Capt. Travis’, now his, uniform coat and his pith helmet. “Now, Jack,” he said, “get up there and tell these people that we are going out to make | peace with these Hillmen or bring them back prisoners of war. Give it to them hot. Tell | Yom wo are the preservers of their homes and | Wives and children, and you, Bradley, take these presents, and you y stick’ close | to mo and carry thia rifle.” Stedman's speech was hot and wild enough to suit the most critical and feverish audience be- fore barricade in Paris. And when he was through Gordon and Bradley punctuated his oration by firing off ‘the two Winchester rifles in the air, at which the people jumped and fell on their Knees and prayed to their several gods. Ths fighting men of the villago followed the four Ww the f°UF walked on slong the roughly hewn road to Meet the Gordon walked with 5 Stedman end old Tom Brediey followed close behind with the two shotguns and the presents in a basket. -) in advance. “Are these Hillmen used to guns?” asked Gor- don. Stedman said no, they were not “This island,” near it It only carries 100 yards. Jane never make any are quite content shotgun of mine is the only one on the he explained, ‘‘and we never came to them bet with fore to do an; show of resistance. They ‘the Hillmen satisty them- selves with the outlying huts as long as they leave them and the town alone, so they seldom come to close quarters.” ‘The four men walked on for a quarter of ag hour or so in silen peering intently on every side, but it was n until the, had left the woods and marched out into the level stretch of grassy country that they came upon the enemy. ‘The Hillmen were about forty in number, and were as savage and ugly looking giants as any in a picture book of travels. They had captured dozen cows and ‘oats, and were driving them on before them as ey advanced further upon the village. they saw the four men the chorus of cries and yells, an When gave @ mixed some of them stopped and others ran forward, shaking their spears and shooting their broad arrows into the ground before them. A tall muscular old man, y-bearded, gra; with a skirt of feathers about him and necklaces of bones and animals’ claws about his bare chest, ran in front of thein and seemed to be trying to make them ppl “Is that Messenw: “Yes,” said Stedmat roach more alow: back. I don’t believe bef fore. ‘Stedman,” said Albert, iy, igive your gun to Bradley and go forward with “he means to ke asked Gordon. them ever saw a white man ing quiokl; your arms in the air aud waving yourhandker- a and tell them in their reed chino! = ley an king is coming. If they go at you I will kill a goat or two to show them what we can do with the ritles, and if that don’t stop them we'll shoot at their legs, ard if that don't we them—1 all run. guess you'd better come back and Stedman looked at Albert and Albert looked at Stedman, and neither of them winked or inched. “Is this another of my secretary's duties?” asked the younger boy. 4 “Yes,” said the consul, “but a resignation is alwi in order. ys You needn't like it. You see, you know the 0 if you don’t fonguage and I don’t, but I know how to shoot and you don’t.” “That's perfectly satisfactory,” said Sted- maa, handing his gun to old Bradley. I wanted toknow why I was to be sacrifi one of the Bradleys. uy Bradley, sr., instead of it’s because I know the ‘you see the evil results of abigh education; Wish me luck, please,” he said, “and for goodness sake don't waste much time shooting goats.” stopped drawn up in about 200 two The Hillmen had ards off and were ines shouting and dancing and hurling taunting remarks at their few bunchod together back of the king. man walked steadily forward with bis adversaries. The stolen cattle were As Sted- handker- chief fluttering and howling out something in their own tongue they stopped end listened. Ashe walked forward his three companions followed him at about fifty yards in the rear. He was 150 yards from the illmen before they made ont what he said, and then one of the young braves resenting it us an insult to Stedman dodged the arrow and ground without taking 8 backward, only turning slightly to whi time to begin on the young Hillman swung his club and knocked him down, and his chief shot ich sounded to hi the g had even an arrow at him. jood his step rut his hands to his mouth and to shout something companions like ‘About oats.” But the instant tired King Messenwab none the others moved. Then Messenwab ad- vanced before his men to meet Stedman, and on Stedman's opening and shutting his hands to show that he was unarmed the king threw down his club and spears and advanced without Bradley, jr., with bis finger ‘gasped trombling on his lever, “let ‘me take a shot at him now.” Gordon struck the man’s gun = and walked forward in ali the glory of his gok and blue uniform, for both he and Stedman mediate war. w now that Messenwah was more impressed by their appearance and in the fact that they were white men than with any threats of im- So when he saluted Gordon haughtily that young man gave him a haughty nod in reply and bade Stedman tell the king that he would permit him to sit down. The king did not ‘quite appear to like this, but he sat down nevertheless and bowed his head gravely. “Now tell him,” said Gordon, “that I come from the ruler of the greatest nation on earth of this isiand, and that and that I recognize Ollypsbus as the only king come to this little threcpenny king with either peace and presents or builets and war.” “Have I got to tell him he’s alittle three- penny king.” said Stedman, plaintively. “No, you needn't give a literal translation; it oan be as free as you please.” “Thanks,” said the secretary, humbl; tell him,” contin ued Gordon, “that will give presents to him and his warriors if he from Ollyp: If he wo ybus and agrees to keep n't do that try to get ree to stay away for three months, and when our time of probation is np and Le and his merry men come dancing down the hiliside we will blowthem up as high as his mor either. untains. But you n eed not tell him that And if he is proud and haughty and would rather fight ask him to restrain himself until we show what we ean do with our weapons at two hundred yards.” self in the long grass in front of the king, and with many revolving gestures of bis arms and mu ch poin' at Gordon and and bows retold what Gordon ‘Stedman seated him- rofound nods d dictated. When he had finished the king looked at tho bundle of presents and at the guns, of which Stedman had. given # very wonderful account, but answered nothing. “I guess,” said Stedman, with a sigh, “that we will have to give him alittle practical dem- onstration to help matters. Lam sorry, but I ink one of those goats has got fo die. It's lil will have t “Oh.” vivisection. ‘The lower order of animals ‘0 suffer for the good of the higher.” id Bradley, jr., cheerfully, “I'd just as soon shoot one of them niggers aa one of the oats.” 8*So Stedman told the king to tell his men to drive a goat toward them and the king did so, and one of the wen struck one of the goats with his spear and it ran clumsily across the ain. PisTake your time, Bradley,” said Gordon. “Aim low, and if you hit it you can have it for supper.” “'Knd if you mias it,” said Stedman, gloomily, “Messenwah will have us for sup} ea ‘The Hillmen had seated themselves a hundred yards off while the leaders were debating, and they now rose curiously and watched ley as he sank on one knee and covered the goat, while he gave it a lon about 150 yards off he dead. ‘And then all the Hillmen, with the king, broke away on the run toward mal, with much shouting and yelling. start. When it was red and the goat fe ‘the dead ani- ‘he king came back alone, leaving his people stand- ing about and examining the goat. He was much excited and talk lated violently “He ow “He he. at, Yes; Bo on.” says?" great state of nerves. yourself.” “He says,” said Stedman, ed and gesticu- says,” said Stedman, “he says” — yyé—goodness me, what do you think Il, what does he say?” cried Gordon, in “Don't keep it all to “that we sre de- ceived. ‘He fs no longer king of the island of Opeki; “But that what we ask is no loi give. He has sold his kingship and to this island to another king who came to him two days ago in noises as we do, and to whom he sol 1e sees that we are 3 ; that he is in great fear of us, and that he has got himself into no end of trouble. H th guns, I Id the indeed his to right canoe and who made suppose he means, island for » wate that behas in the bag around bis neck. And that he signeda paper and made marks on « piece of bark to show that he gave up the island freely and forever.” “What does he mean?” said Gordon. ive up the island? King Pointe it d he o! of it anyway, anc nows i “Sihat e just it,” said “How Ollypybus is the tedman. “That's what he’s seared about He said he didn't care about Ollypybus and didn’t count him in when ho made to “Angry, of course poring as grimly at the a leather and contai: wishes he hadn't sold ¢ a im angry,” said Gordon, know if you are an thought was safe. ‘the treaty, bocause he is such a taken O1 rbus’ frightened monarch as “Who wouldn't be Who do you think these fool of him? watch.” 504 among his necklaces until «plain stemwinding ‘sliver watch marked on the inside “Munich.” To be concluded next week.} “What asad face she has! it have « woeful life Tt looks as if 18 “It has. Seeman ainpneneten de lace when jilt ber, or ‘ite men to the outskirts and took’; “Neither; he there as Stedman told them to, and Press, has never been able ae her.”—Detroit Free , 4 - WASHINGTON, D.C. SATURDAY. AUGUST 15, 1891—SIXTEEN PAGES FUNNY WEDDING FEES. ‘Things Thst = Clergyman Sees Who Makes Folks Happy by Contract. SCFREING MARRIED AFFECTS A MAN SUPERSTITIOUS WOMEN. Some ef the Charms They Wear and the From the Chicago Tribune. Dorothy Maddox, writing from Bar Harbor, ays that if you want to find out your dearest friend's extravagances and superstitious fancies at one and the same time just catch her as the soft white combing jacket is slipping away from the snowy shoulders. Corset hooks of silver and gold, with here and there a jewel, gleam beneath a perfect cas cade of delicate laces, and if she is up to the latest thing in charms she is sure to have tucked away in ilk which and flowers of China. This is s ribbon from the throat, and abou! perfume there is supposed i an influ- Shee which ia eaid toward off Ml luck of ll And this pretty little fiction brings to mind an experience of mine as megen g as it was startling. Nota week ago I met with a charm- ing young woman, a friend of mutual friends, who ina moment of confidence gave me the history of a small trifle which she wore con- cealed beneath her bodice. “This,” she who at such a moment was not of his boots. “One instance I remember amused me much. The couple had not taken precaution, which should always be considered essential, to re- hearse beforehand, and the expectant bride- groom was eo confused that he forgot his own first cousin's name when trying tointroduce me to him. It was in the parlor of a private house that the ceremony was performed and it went smoothly enough until I got to the point where Propriety demanded that the young msn should produce the ring to put upon the bride's finger. Treached forth my hand, saying in an under- tone, ‘The ring, if you please.” “He responded immediately by Producing, a large envelope and placed it in my hand. tried to indicate to he was maki a mistake, but he persisted in trying to force id, “I always carry incase of itinto my .. At that instant, however, he an emergency,” and she handed me a tiny vial. caught s lookof mute and horrified appeal | “Init,” she continued, “ise polson—swift, directed toward him by the bride, and, simul- | sure and deadly. I wear it about in \y person: he | fear of an accident and should I at any time be jrew | in position when help is impossible and death oat | by torture my fate, I shall be prepared to end taneously discovering what was reached into his trousers pocket and forth the magic circlet of gold. I found subsequently that he had inquired of some one | i sufferings in a Swinkling.” previously what was the proper time to ad- fell, thought I, here is som new Tinister the foo and bad been formed | under the sun and in spite of ite grassome- for joke's sake. “Funnier than that was an adventure which occurred to mein connection with a very swell wedding. The occasion was so exceedingly fashionable that I told my wife while dressing for it that she might expect to receive a large fee. Cle: n’s wives, you know, always are entitled to marriage fees ‘for pin money, just as farmers’ wives regard as their own any cash that comes from sell~ ing eggs. When I got home I handed over the envelope I had received from the bridegroom. My wife opened it, gave a little shriek of aston- ishment and showed me the contents—e single large old-fashioned copper cent. I was sur- ised, naturally, but I had nearly forgotten matter when, about six months later, the young husband whom I had made such called upon meat my house, with much embarrase- ment in bis manner, and said: “My dear sir, will you be so kind as to tell me what it was that I gave you for a fee on the nese in its way decidedly sensible. How many Poor victims tosccident by land and sea would again and again have given a fortune for sucha swift relief from » horrible death. Azrael. T am so giad that, one day, he will come, And on my door will knock; I know not whem Perhaps my nerves will tingle with the shock, My heart’sreturning currents harry homes ¢ garrison of my life’s forces flock ‘Together, rallying to resist him, then. But he will enter, though they may oppose, For at his touch, resistance will take fight; And clasp in his a hand grown like the snow, And ou my bosom place a pale white rose: And lead me throug a gateway swinging low Amid the grasses and the white. Beyond that portal, votces I shall hear ogeyeuiterance has for weary years bem And faces sce, long vanished from my aight; And forms discern, unto my soul most dear; occasion of my ing?” nd forms d a “With plessure, I replied. ‘Ts was an old- | "%o ‘fiends derenoes long to life and Nght pen Tegained and yearning hopes style co) "Good heavens?’ exclaimed my visitor. ‘I ted something almost as bad, ——_—__++-_____ because Does “The Farmer Pay It Allt” subsequently found in my waistcoat pocket the 0 From the Chicago Tribune. $20 gold piece which [ had intended to inclose ; - om ped se pry poe poy A writer in the Indiana Farmer undertakes “Gay no more about it, my dear boy,’ Ire- | to show that the agriculturist stands the whole sponded, pocketing the coin which he handed | expense alike of commerce and of government in the United States. He says: “Doosn't the farmer support all other industries? Doesn't every manufacturer, wholesaler, retailer and railroad company get their support from the farmer? The farmer has to do it, and then if he wants credit for it he is laughed at." This —— & statement that the farmers want to ve money loaned to themat 2 per cent, which would be no more than fair, as ~‘the banks get our money for little or no interest.” is kind of talk would be justifiable if the farmer could show himself able and desirous to i ened his own farm without aid from any of the classes objected to as living off the proceeds of his toil. He has got just the same right as his forefathers had to go to some other part of the world where land is cheap because of small competition for its occupancy and there live with little or no communication with the world outside. Hehas the right to spin his own wool, weave it into homespun th, use the crooked limb of tree to stir up the soil as a substitute for a plow, thrash his grain out with a flail and otherwise “live’ without patronizing the merchant for clothes, shoes, tea, lumber or agricultural implements, ‘and equally without selling his produce for money or goods. If he has « farm of his own in this part of the world he is free to live in the same independent way, except that he will have to pay some taxes and ma: have to say “no” to the peddler frequently. If he does not thus own the farm he has no right tooccupy it except by ogreement with the owner: but in this respect he is no worse off than the merchant and mechanic or clerk or professional man in town or city. Neither of them can occupy premises excopt by rent or purchase, and if a farmer wishes to live outside of such an arrangement he simply wighe for the unattainable. He might as well demand ex- emption from death or sickness. It is only by virtue of such an arrangement that he is able to occupy a farm or @ house at all, unless as he is able to fight off every now and then some other man who might want it on the same free ‘nd easy terms, in the Dut the farmer is not prepared to live primitive, pioneer way. He wants to. wear store clothes, to drink sugared decoctions of tea or coffee, or something stronger; to have city-made furniture in his house and a carpet in at least hia best room. He wants modern made plows, harrows and cultivators, and seli- inders, me. ‘Accidents will happen in the best regu- luted families, even balers they are fairly started.’” ———_ NO WELCOME TBERE ‘Why Don’t People Arrange to Have a Court- ing Room? From the Albany Argus. Have you ever been in a house where there aro couple courting? It is most trying. You think you will go and sitin the drawing room and you march off there. As you open the door you hear a noise as if somebody had su: denly recollected something, and when you get in Emily is over by the window full of interest in the opposite side of the road and your friend John Edward is at the other end of the room with his whole soul held in thrall by photo- graphs of other people’s relatives. “Ob,” you say, pausing at the door, “I didn’t know anybody was he “Oh, didn’t you?" says Emily, coldly, in « tone which implies that she does not believe you. You hang about for a bit; then you say: very dark. Why don't you light the Jobn Edward says: “Oh, I hadn't noticed it,” and Emily says that papa does not like the gas lit in the afternoon. You tell them one or two items of news and give them your views and opinions on any cur- rent question; but it does not appear to inter- est. them. “Ont” is 4 don’t say so.” And after ten minutes of such a style of conversation you edge up to the door and slip out, and are surprised to find that the door immediately closes behind you and shuts itsel? without you having touched it. Halt an hour later you think you will try a cigar on the piazza. The only chair in the place is occupied by Emily, and John Edward, if the language of clothes can be relied on, has evi- dontly been sitting on the floor. They do not speak, but give you a look that says all that can be said in » civilized community, and you back out promptly and shut the door behind ou. You are afraid to poke your nose in any room inthe house now, so, after walking up and down the stairs for awhile, you go and sit in your own bed room. This becomes aninterest- ing, however, after a time, and eo you put on your hat and stroll out into the garden. You walk down the path and as you pass by the ‘summer house you glance in, and there are those two young loversbuddled together in one corner of it, and they sce you and are evidently under the idea that for some wicked purpose of your own you are following them about. “Why don’t they have a special room for this sort of thing and make people keep to it?” you mutter, and you rush back to the hall, get your umbrella and go out. aid of which he can raise more grain with lees labor than will supply the food needs of self and family; and be wants to sell that surplus at good prices for the purpose of ob- taining with the proceeds some of the other comforts of a modern civilization. He wante railroads near his dour to haul away his prod- ucts and bring in his fuel and other sup- plies. He wants other benofits of association with his kind, all of which must be paid for. But tnis cannot be done without the aid of the carrier, manufacturer, merchant and profes- sional man. It is for him as well as for the rest of the world that these classes live and work, and pay countless thousands of others to work for them. They charge for their services, as he does for his, and when they want money they have to pay the commercial rate of inter est for ita use, just as the farmer does. If they can get it ata lower rate of interest than he does itis simply becauso they ean give security which is better available incase the necessity arises for converting it into cash. ‘The farmer cannot expect to have his produce taken from his wagon, carried many hundreds and perhaps thousands of miles and distributed to the ultimate consumer all over the Union and world and receive the whole price paid for it by the latter. He would not himself be will- form that great intermediate service Neither can he expect to obtain mill and factory prices the manufactured articles he wishes to consume. It is only fair that he should pay in his purchase money a sum sufficient to make it worth the while of the carrier of material and product, the factory proprietor and operative and the merchant to work in producing and distributing the goods wed by him. ‘This being conceded, only one other point remains to be considered in an- swering the question not whether or no the farmer poys for all, but if he pays more than he ought to pay for the services rendered him. THROUGH THE CAR WINDOW. A Western Congressman Meets With » Rail- way Adventure. © Mason of Ilinois told a story the other day to » Star reporter of = some- what remarkable experience he had not long ago on & one-horso railway in the wild and woolly west. “There was only one passenger car,” he said, “nd it was full. So was the conductor. At all events, I thought so from the manner in which he addressed me concerning a valise by my side. “Take that thing into the baggage car,’ he remarked very peremptorily. “Tlooked at him, somewhat surprised and with- out making any response. “Do you hear what I say?’ he demanded. “Yes, Ido,’ I answered. “He went away to collect some tickets. When he came back about ten minutes later he looked .” he yelled. ‘hat question is open to more than one kind “I heard you,’ I responded, mildly. of response, but there is another very important “Then why haven’t you done it?” fact about which no room is left for doubt. ‘Because I don’t propose to.’ The service is rendered the farmer more ‘ou don’t, eh?” cheaply than he could perform it himself, and ‘No, Ido not.’ even more cheaply than it would be done if he | $4! “The b—1 you say? he roared. ‘T’a have the job asa member of » community bossed having all these things done by the federal government. If the manufacturing and trans- potting businews of ‘the country were managed Dy you know that I'm the bose of this train, and I Gon’t put up with impndence from no dudes. You snake that bag out of here right away or TU chuck it through the window in just two minutes.’ “At that moment we slowed up, approaching station, and the conductor went out on the platform. Moro ngers got aboard, and when he came back several persons were stand- ing up in the aisle. I just sat still, wondering tohave been called » dude for the first time in my life. What! shouted the ticket puncher upon his return. ‘You won't pay any attention to what I say, ch? Well, here goes ! “With that he picked up the valise and threw it out of the car window. We wore at the rate of about fifteen miles an hour st the timo, I said nothing, and a quarter of an hour spoke to me. possibly tic what the “reform” advocated by many Alleged friends of the farmers amounts to, it would cost very much more than it does now, with the very radical difference that each man in the community would be taxed his share for tho accommodation, whether he wanted the service or not. This would amount to vastly more of « tyranny than anything that can be justly complained of now by the charlatans who 0 falsely ausert that “the farmer paysit all” Evidently he had been reflecting ph aT ae he had exceeded his authority. heated them oT ‘wouldn't have prea he said, halt | before leaving it till now spologetically, ‘only you riled me, and disct- ine’s gotter maintained on board = Indignation tm Poland Over an Act of Rus ~ stan Bratality. ‘From the London A terrible act of brutality, perpetrated by the Russian authorities at Warsaw, bas caused great throughout Poland. As usual, the facts have come out little by littleand consi‘er- ably after date. It was on the Sist of May last that the dsughter of Gen. Pouzereff, who is bute child, was playing with « ball in the Saxe Gardens at Warsaw. She chanced to meet a boy pame Winter and strack him with her -ball. The boy, who was only ten years old, seized the ball and threw it back, probably with some violence. boy, however, and was a Pole and bad been t to look with contempt uy the Russians servant now called for the police and the boy was taken and locked up all night. A full report of the inei- t was drawn up and sent to the governor general of the province, Gen. Gourko. morrow Gen. Gourko must be flogged and lashes, w, nishment can only be admiuistered to ehildren by their that ah Parents, but Winter's father was dead. the business house, The tutor, fearing that he would of duced. | He angrily threw the ‘whip away, said the suade him to finish 7 bor’ livelihood, reluctant] Times. indignation Thereupo called he den the lose bis ce might close his. cafe, end y chose, but nothing sho per- ing. Finding that both doctor and tutor remained obdurate, the police and prison authorities sent the governer general asking for instructions, and relating ail that had occurred. It will scarcely be credited that Gen. Gourko, the hero of the Pievna Pass.at once back that the flogging was to be fini police, therefore, the tutor persisting in his refusal to act, had to give the unfortunate boy the remaining eighteen blowss0 as to com- picte the sentence. Insensible, covered with blood, his flesh torn from his back, and ina state of violent con- vulsions, this young boy was brought back to his mother. The unhappy woman ~¥ time been kept in igi morance as to SERSEREEEEST ESEERE EER TEERSEISEEERS eH 3 i i F 4 3 E fo ¢ mn the servant in charge of Gen. Pouzereff's child rushed forward, caught the boy, Winter, and began to beat him. The epee args wear Gh mg ‘On the the boy reosive twenty-five ‘The therefore, should have to the mother. The preferred goats out ‘8 tutor or guardian They told Mr. Olchefski that if he did not garry out the sentence they would close his cafe and confectionery shop. consented. The dispatch to oo all this fate of WHITELAW REID'S TIGHT SQUEEZS A Little Anecdote of the Great Editor's Rast, Youth. “Whitelaw Reid and I have always been firet eo Sran writer. “He for the Cincinnati that good letters at me pretty seriously a hostile country, on beyond estimation the field of which contained to him: abot?” done. cane, ‘the judge advocate 5 the letter clippe: “What onght to “No, I wouldu’t hony bin.” be done with you. Good night!" operations Ry remarkable observation am about to quote. The dispatch was at con siderable length, written in admirable style, and was devoted to a description ef the im tense and hopeless ignorauce and barbariem of the natives in that region. By way of illustras tion the author said: “So absolutely stupid thoes people thet it has actaally mover cosurred to them, although they are such bitter foes te. the northern cause, to cut the ron through their territory for the use ef ous army.” “{ went an orderly to fetch Mr. Reld— ‘Whitey,’ the boys used to call him—and I said “Do you kuow that I ought to Rave you “Reid looked rather unpleasantly surprised at that, and so I added “Apparently you don’t realise what youhave Yiore is's letter of yours which 1 have been reading. You might just as well have stood on top of a tall tower in Cimcinnath and sbouted through « trumpet loud enough to be heard in don't you cut Rosecrans’ teleg: my word, I don't know how to de Come over with me to the quarters of gene: took him over to see the judge general of the department, to whom I showed ‘out of the headlines and signature cut off. dge it back to me and sad: “I inquired for Mr. Reid in the mors he had loft camp for the north some rate friends,” said jolly old Gen. Rosecrans & Das always bad plenssm things to say about me and I qrestiy oftetay his newspaper genius, although we have met since he was serving ss corres Commercial-Gasdtie wih my army in West Virginia I rememba at he used to write some might that time on wa topica, though I wns too busy then to do an; ing More than skim such of them as chaneal to come under my eye. Military affairs kep engaged, partic ularly construction of 110 miles of telegraph ‘ixoual which depenucd the com munication of intelligence of value altogethe: Ww. enough oud Richmond’ “Why phy” Upom with your advocate Payer with the be done with the news. who published that? do that, You ought to i think you are right,” I replied. Thea t rode back & say ons quarters eth BoM ood had « very brief conversation with him, saying: “L haven't decided, young man, which TU see im the morning. but her son, and the shock that his retarn in sucha | before on the fastest horse he ould obvein. I condition must have produced upon her feel- | b&¥e never seen him since. ings may well be imagined. Such cruelty as — ~ this, perpetrated for so trivial @ reason on « Under Ditticulties. ery young child: has naturally greatly exas-| Inthe hammock she is wwinging. perated the Polish inbabitants of Warsaw, and “Round avout mosquitoes winguag it will be no easy matter for the Russians to] 4), the evening air: justify conduct of this description. To pre pose i 0 losuntnen. jear his ardeng pray er: PEE ie a Washing. “On, mm (rap 1 score youl From the London Spectator. al ou ‘We have come to look upon water as meant mt Seer primarily to wash in, as an aid toablution rather t you love may than a thing of beauty. A story of a Somerset shire peasant will illustrate what we mean. The individual in question had never seen the sea until be wae taken to Westonsuper-Mare on a Lome “choir-treat” excursion. Naturally, the vicar, “I must own (slap | @lap!) love the curate and the rest of the tonors, trebles} You all other men a- (slay 5 and basses, as soon as the esplanade was reached, (That one had a bone!) gathered round to see how the first sight of the pen coseeunnia ocean would strike the nataral man. Will it be ordsand trated believed that the words struck from him bythe at trunt view of the “unfurrowed deep” lying in vast Even mosquitoes restrain them. expanse before his eyes were these: “If Td | Rapid biows—whew! how Uiey rain themi— known what ber were like, I'd have brought Make them bite the su down a bit of soapand had @ good wash?” Somers Srrmat, as a buge washing of washing an dentifrice and soup,” question, such be created. rich collection of carved ivory, &e. of Baden ~ ‘and rincess of Weima of the si signatures of all the Moltke. place. Again the reaction against comes, will help to bring us and fore more into ayfipathy. thinks like the rest of royal family and the iron—or rather, the soup—had entered so deeply into his soul that he could only conceive the sea washing, if uations ir scorn our love of soap"—the shade of the bard of Twickenham, of whom it was said that all his enemies wished him was “a little pardon our travesty— revents anything like areal community of Feeling. It may be remembered how the French dover sadly refused the attempt of winning the hand of the young English lady of whom he had become enamored. her, for were they to be united “she would me and thea I should die.” When Britain ‘urope on the soap situations will not a At present “ ” will —_—_—_~es_—___.. Some Famous Fans. From the Pall Mall Gazette. The German fan exhibition at Carlsruhe, the capital of Baden, is an exceptionally rich one, consisting of 3,484 objects, and for the historian of art, the art critic and especially for ladies is of the greatest interest. In order to give variety to the exuibition, other articles have been accepted, such as snuff boxes, ornaments, walking sticks and antiquities of many kinds. Among other things is the frame of a parasol of lapis lazuli, a present from the late Em- peror William tc his daughter, the grand Guchess. The grand duke of Baden sent in a snuff boxes, sticks, 5 the ite fan on diplomatists who ——_- +e+ —_—__ Blood is Thicker Than Water. ‘From Notes and Queries, our columns ‘jade's tricks,” what was oliticians and officeholders, which is prac- | their i58 a Ido not think that J. W. V. correctly recall the version of this anecdote as first given to the public in (I think) the month of June, 1859, by—I write subject to correction—the special | erey of the Times during our war with China in that year. If my memory serves me correctly, and latterly, alas! (ex. gr. ) it has played me some described—I do not He dared not marry Princess William Prince Louis Ferdi- nand of Bavaria, @ number of fans dat- ing from the last cen and otbers of the time of Louis XIV; Tereditary crown i ; wo antique fans. jection of fans painted with scenes from nearly all Wagner's operas. There are several Sages. a Ne fan. The Frederichsy possesses a fai i imens nese which are the attended the Berlin congress, and Countess Oriola has one of the same kind with the signatures of the Berlin court, including those of Prince yon Bismarck snd Count There are also fans exhibited which show on every spray @small study of a great artis From Atalanta. it address them y by a grave criticiam vada and spectively" shone. ——_~ee Girl-Life in Portugal. Comparatively little can be said of girl-life im Portugal, for girls have such « very #light role in the life of the nation. are bright, clever and precocious, very much spoiled and very much i spect to their parents is insisted ou, howevers the In childhood they A formal re- in the third kiss their hands and ask their blessing at bed tme. ‘They are constantly in the company of grown- p people, sit up late at night apd are fro ently taken to the theater and opera. A lit- Se vgiri of nine amused we very much one day on the voices of Mmes. Ne-~ Theodorini, who were then singing at San Carlos, and the’ parts in which they re- Conversation i» not re strained in the presence of children, so they are early initiated into that freedom of ideas and freedom of expressing them that is so marked a featare of society in southern Europe. The education of Portaguese girls is super- ficial, consisti are first-class ling! as in their mother racy. school ast fifteen the “up bull fights and at The Portuguese are a very shut-in roficiency, and in the latter they excel. ortuguesc, unlike the Spaniards and Italians, mists; they are, in many cases, as fluent iu French, Euglish and German earlier, and marry very soon after. chiefly in what uscd to be tain great ‘txcel. “The tongue, aud conquer the difficulties of accent and idiom with great accu- There are schools of all softs in Government schools, private schools and con- vent schools belonging to the French order of &t. Vincent de Paul; for since the suppression of the national religious houses in i nuns have quietly spread their influence an@ multiplied their institutions and have now ab most exclusively in their bands the education of girls of the higher classes. They leave hese or sixteen, sometimes Among ten thousand” the young people meet each other constantly at balls, reception the sumer resorts, an their courtship is cosmopolitan, rather freer than in France, much less eo than in England. It is in the middle and lower classes that it is characteristic of the country and the nation. very conservative in theie ideas of the position of “women in society and they got their ideas from their Moorish masters in bygone centuries. life; they go regularly to mase om Consequently girls lead Sunday mornings and take occasional walks dur- ing the wock, always accompanied by one oF two ments and that is guitar on m chaperons. You! house, and if they dié would not be admit “except on business.” ‘This strictness leaves but one way open for an interchange of senth the window, and it is quite « ‘Why, the bag.’ “Oh, no’ Teaia. ‘tBu woren't ite contents valuable?” tal forest Intute ‘Ma showee him Little Ma boaiee Dullale Bul men never et the ic’ woul ted noon looking into the street, and ber from the stroct looks at her, end this iswo mt the custom that it attracts no attention from the passers-by. From looks the; bows, to i toa her to church, finds ° ann dws ighta, and finall an iy Sn offer to her father. “Hels then received proceed te few words, then he follows out if she is going to the with bis - . oll ot Sam Wab any enon