Evening Star Newspaper, October 3, 1891, Page 7

SOLDIERS’ HOME LAKE. ROADSIDE SKETCHES. Picturesque Scenes on a Tramp in the Country. THE ROUTE TO FOLLOW. Takoma Park, Silver Spring and Sligo Min— Through Geautifal Woodland Stretches—In the Soldiers’ Home Grounds—On Sligo Branch—Some Commanding Views. Written for The Evening Star. OR A TRAMP TO TAKOMA PARK, SIL- ver Spring and Sligo Mill, take Brightwood avenue at Florida avenue, thence to Whitney avenue to and through Soldiers’ Home Park, to Rock Creek Church road, to Blair road, to Car- roll avenue (Takoma), to lower Silver Spring byroad, to Clagett road, to Sligo Branch road, to Sligb Mill road, to Blair road, to Piney Branch road, to Brightwood avenue, to city. Condition of the roads—Brightwood avenue, good; Whitney avenue, good; Soldiers’ Home drive, good; Rock Croek Church road, good; Blair road, good, efcept in vicinity of Takoma and Lamond’s, where it is bad; Carroll avenue, fair; Lower Silver Spring, byroad, bad; Clagett road, fair: Sligo Branch road, fair; Sligo Mill Toad, rough in spots: Piney Branch road, good; Brightwood avenue, good. Taking Brightwood avenne at Florida avenue | Proceed to Whitney avenue, by which the western gate of the Soldiers’ Home grounds is reached. Not far from where you entered the last named avenue you passed, on the left, a neat little brick structure, which is known as Whituey Avenue Mission, a union church. IN THE SOLDIERS’ HOME GROUNDS. Moving in a northeasterly direction along the West driye of the Home some attractive scenes are witnessed. In the vicinity of the lakeé the scenery is especially fine. A couple of the most charming of the views are here repro- duced, which will be readily recognized by the Visitor. Perhaps I should inform you that tp swans seen in the lake view, that look so natural and disport so gaily, are of the tin species. adopted the idea of wearig a short green veil over and around his high hat, so as to shade his eyes in the strong su‘light which was re- flected from the sandy roads under a summer sun. For the same reason Mra. Blair wore 8 bonnet coming far over her face and hiding her features. “In this odd and uniquo style of dress they roamed and rode at will, far and near. : This old road is now on the edge of Takoma Park, and the hand of the despoiler is visible in every direction. The undergrowth in the woods is being removed and a couple of new bridges span the stream. But there is as yet no great activity in the way of improvements and the locality will probably retain much of its virgin loveliness for yearstocome. The Zaza SILVER SPRING, road, though narrow, is fairly good and passes through scenery of rare picturesqueness. The branch follows 4 tortuows courses over a:bed of rock, through successive hills and dales, a heavy growth of timber of many 8 cover- ing the hill sides. ‘Thre are wil Rowers, ferns and bracken in unlimited quantities. ‘The new bridges above referred to are frail structures, but may be made to serve a good urpose. ‘The first, or one nearest Clagett road, Reds to = byroad or street which rans in ¢ westerly direction and strikes afd road a little ver Spring at a blacksmith shop, The m eighth of a mile south--toward Car- roll avenue—connects with a byroad or street that leads to Takoma Park. Both run through the woods and are suitable for light carriage traffic. AT CARROLL AVENUE BRIDGE, “Where smooth-flowing waters glide along, And forest minstreis warbie out their song,” You cross the stream, continuing along its west side to Sligo Mill’ road, fully a mile dis- tant. A quarter of a mile sonth of the bridge you come to the mill dam, which diverts a part of the water of the branch into the mill race. The road now runs between the branch and AT HEAD OF THE LAKE. Entering Harewood road at National ceme- tery gate, move to the left a few paces and you are in Kock Creek Church road, which follow to the right to its junction with Elair road, hich takes you to As the route just indicated was traveled on a Previous excursion its description will be omitted here. A FINE VIEW. Arriving at Takoma Park, move out Carroll avenue to Gen. Carroll's residence, which stands in the angle former by the junction of Ethan Allen aud Carroll avenues. At the junetion of Carroll and Elm avenues stands a tower, from the topof which one gesa fine View of the surrounding country. Casting the eye along the horizon, beginniug at the east at Hyatteviile, it rests successively upon the Re- form School, Washington monument, Fairfax Seminary. Arlington, Fort Myer, Soldiers Home aad Tenleytown. Tuk CARROLL MANSION, which you presently reach, is a substantial- lookiug two-story and mansard roof frame building, and occupies the highest ground in the vicinity. Its proprietor is Gen. Samuel Sprigg Carroll, a gallant soldier, who distin- suished himself on the national side in the late War. Opposite the west frout of the house, on Carroll avenue, you move to the left through the woods along lower Silver Spring byroad, which takes you to Clagett read, little east of Siuver Spring station. This byroad bas s rough surface and is not much used. It passe gh successive woodland, meadow and eulti fiela. About Gen. Carroli’s Cherry brook After gaming the high ‘ground of this stream the surface of the road improves. Four gates are encountered on the Toute. While the roadbed is rather rough and not well adapted to carriage use the surround- ings are pleasant, wild ilowers being plentiful. A PLEASANT ROUTE. This cut through the woods and fields from Takoma to Clagett road may be varied as follows: Atthe north end of Chestnut avenue is the France to upper Silver Spring byroad, which winds through the timoer and enters Clagett road within a few hundred yards of Silver Spring station. There are no gates en- countered, the road leading through timber all the way. ‘Cherry brook is crossed not far from whore you enter Chestnut avenue, and numer- ous paths and byrcads intercept the way. Our route bears toward the left all the way. 1 road is not traveled a great deal, but, save in spots, it has a fairly good surface. Or, if preferred, the Clagett road may be SLIGO BRANCH. Reaching Clagett road by eifher of the out- Mined routes, follow it tothe right. Half a mile through an attractive stretch of country brings you to romantic Shgo branch. The surround- ings here will delight you. This point forms the present northern boundary of Takoma Park. Crossing the bridge, follow Branch road Jong the eastern side of the stream to the bridge at Carroll avenue. This road was consthucted by Francis P. Blair the elder more than thirty- Sve years ago. He and his wife were passion- ately fond of horseback riding and w Bature, and this was one of their favorite resorts for recreation. Mrs. Blair, who Was a noted equestrienne, was accustomed to take a daily morning canter over this piece of road. It is not ing. with such habits, that she possessed ‘robust health and a sweet disposition. Mr. and Mrs. Blair lived to « ripe okt age. Allen, now of New York city, who was # near neighbor of the Bisirs during war ti in an interesting reminis- @ff the publie roads.” This couple were known by all the coun: folks for miles away from their home, whic! was at Silver Spring, the famous and ‘historic where the destiny of so many men in pub- life was fixed or Mr. Blair had the mill race, an embankment separating them. The scenery all along here is lovely. The course of the stream is tortuous, the banks are rugged, and forest trees of various’ kinds shade your course. It is about three-quarters of a mile from the dam to the old mill, which is pres- ently reached. The old building has recently been remodeled and is now being used for the plant of the Takoma Park Electric Light Com- pany, whose wires are extended to this point. The limits of -Takoma Park extend for some distance east of the stream. Leaving the mill anddam behind your courre takes a southwesterly direction along Sligo Mill road. Half a mile up hill brings you to Ethan Allen avenue, which leads westward to the rincipal part of the village. Just beyond ude byroad is passed on the left. ‘This leads over to Riggs road, half a mile which it enters at Albert Gleason's. This is a private road, running through cultivated | fields and yards, but, it is traveled by the pub- lic. ‘The building of a new public road in the Vicinity, connecting the Riggs and Sligo mill roads, is being agitated. THE RIGGS ESTATE. From where you now stand a commanding view is obtained. Looking east the eye strikes the handsome brick building on Gen. Bealo's | plsce, to tho right of which is Green Hill, the Riggs country place. The large building, with bright tin roof, just beyond Riggs’, is Heurich’s stable, while further to the right’ and beyond Hyattsville and Bladensburg stand out boldly. Crossing Blackberry and Blueberry brooks in succession you soon find yourself on the high ground overlooking Takoma Park to the right and rear. The pretty cottages nestle picturesquely in the evergreen trees. Bright- wood to the westward and the attractive coun- try eastward are also in full view. At the railroad crossing near here a good view is presented. Beyond the crossing you pass on the right Dean's green house, while on the opposite side of the roed is an insignificant frame shanty pluckily bearing up under the ponderous, crushing name of “Star of Bethle- em Hall” It need hardly be noted that this is a colored institution. At Nelligan’s blacksmith shop, a few paces west of the “Star of Bethlehem,” you enter the Blait road, which is followed to ‘the right, ‘oon passing Lamond’s and Takoma. Near the railway station at the latter piace Pincy Branch road is entered, following which to the left for half a mile you arrive at Brightwood venue, which is entered a little south of Battle cemetery. This avenue takes you home. While every mile of this excursion has its peculiar attraction, Branch and Sligo Mill roads would be hard to equal mn natural beauty. From the Clagett road ridge to the old mill the route passes through ideal scenery. Sligo branch is extremely picturesque Sligo Mill road south of the mill is billy and has a rough surface at places. The country is rolling, presenting diversified landscape views. A shorter cut could have been taken from the Junetion of Sligo Mill and Blair roads by mov- ing to the left by way of the Soldiers’ Home, but Piney Branch road, a pretty piece of high- way, offered the novelty of never having been invaded by previous excursions. Groacr Sumroxs. eee Prevalence of Gambling. In an article on “The prevalence of gam- bling” in the October number of the Forum Mr. W. B. Curtis, editor of the Spirit of the Times, says: “It is safe to say that there never was a time in the history of the worid when gambling was so rife among all classes of people as at present. In fact, many legitimate branches of business are tinged with the hue of speculation. Those persons who do not bet on horse races or in stocks gratify their speculative tendencies by dabbling in rural town lots, in mining shares aud in various other so-called business enter- prises, the methods of which are really varia- tions of the methods of gambli: lette wheel, with twonty eagle bir one. The same class oi horse racing, which is at present the greatest of all gambling games.” Mr. Curtis, after citing figures to show vast scale on which betting “~ this vi-e upon those who indulge in it perviatentls. "A bold wmbler,”” says, “is a gré man gone wrong, ted gambling is s'misdirection of and ent ener, attributes that gEEs wil make him a death unflinchingly at 'the call of honor or of duty; will bring him first breastworks 8 forlorn army, and wili nerve him others at the throttle, in and smoke or in « hospital’ ii 6&2 s Hi Fe 5a A F i E —— THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D.C. SATURDAY, HIS PRIVATE HONOR. WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR BY RUDYARD KIPLING. (Copyrighted, 1891.) CHAPTER L (TSE AUTUMN BATCH OF RECRUITS for old regiments had just been uncarted. As usual, they were said to be the very worst draft that had ever come from the depot. Mul- vaney looked them over, grunted scornfully and immediately reported himeelf very sick. “Ts it the regular sutumn fever?” said the doctor, who knew something of Terence’s ways. “Your temperature’s normal.” “Tis a hundred and thirty-seven rookies to the bad, soor. I'm not very sick now, but I will be dead if these boysare thrown at me in my rejuced condition. Doctor, dear, supposin’ you was in charge of three cholera camps. “Go to the hospital then, you old contriver,” said the doctor laughing. Terence bundled himsey into a blue bed gown—Dinah Shadd was attending toa major’s lady, who preferred Dinah without a diploma toanybody else with a hundred—puta pipe in his teeth and paraded the hospital balcony ex- horting Ortheris to be a father to the new re- cruite. They're mostly your own sort little man,” he said with a grin. “The top-spit of White- chapel. I'll interogue them when they're more like something they never will be, an’ that’s » good honest soldier like me.” Ortheris yapped indignantly. He knew as well as Terence what the coming work meant, and he thought Terence’s conduct mean. Then he strolled off to look at the now cattle, who were staring at the unfamiliar landscape with large eyes and asking if the kites were eagles and the pariah dogs jackals. “Well, you are a holy set of bean-faced beg- gars, you! he said genfally to a knot in the barrack square. Then running his eye aver them, “Fried fish an’ whelks is about your sort. Blimy if they haven't sent some pink- eyed Jews, too. You chap with the greasy bed, which o' the Solomons was your father— Moses?” “My name's Anderson,” said a voice sullenly. ‘Ob, Samuelson’ all right Samuelson! an’ how many o” the likes o’ you sheenies are i ‘spoil B comp’ny?” ‘There is no scorn #0 complete as that pf the old soldier for the new. It is right that this should beso. A recruit must learn first that he is not a man, but a thing which in time and the mercy of heaven may develop into a sol- dier of the queen if it takes care and attends to good advice. Ortheris’ tunic was open, his lopped over one eye, and his hands were behind his beck, ashe walked round growing more contemptuous at each step. ‘The re- cruits did not dare to answer, for they were new boys in # strange school, who had called them- selves soldiers at the depot in comfortable England. “Not a single pair o’ shoulders in the whole lot! I've seen some bad drafts; but this ‘ere draft beats any draft I've ever known. Jock, come an’ look at these squidgy, ham-shanked beggars.” a lo Lecroyd was walking across the squar as whale circles round s shoal of small fry, said arrived slowly, circled round the kn nothing and went away whistling. “Yes, you may well look shcepy, Ortheris squeaked to the ‘boys. “It's the Tikes 0” you breaks the ‘earts of the likes of us. We've got to lick you into shape, and never a ha’penny extry do we get for so doin’ and yor ri grateful, neither. Don't you go thinkin’ the colonel nor yet the company orf'cer that makes you. It's me, you Johnny Kaws—you Jobnny bloomin’ Raws!” A company officer had come up unperceived behind ‘Grtherie at the end of this oration. “You may be right, Ortheris,” he said, quietly, “but I shouldn't shout it.” The recruits grinned as Ortheris saluted and collapsed. Some days afterward I was privileged to look over the new batch, and they were everything that Ortheris had said and more. B company bad been devasted by forty or fffty of them and company’s drill or parade was a sight to shudder at. Ortheris asked them lovingly whether they had not been sent out by mistake and whether they had not better post themselves back to their friends. Learoyd thrashed them me- thodically one by one one, without haste, but without slovenliness; and the older soldiers took the remnants from Learoyd and went over them in their own fashion. Mulvaney in hospital and grinned from the balcony when Ortheris called him a shirker and other worse uames. “By the grace av God wo'll brew men av them yet,” Terence said one day. “Be var- ‘uous an’ parsevere, me son. ‘There's the makins av colonels in that mob, if we only go deep enongh—wid a belt.” «WWe!” Ortheris replied, dancing with rage. “I just like you and your we's. "Ere’s B com- pany drillin’ like a drank militiareg’ ment—” “So I've been officially acquent,” was the answer from on high, “but I'm too’ sick this tide to make certain.” “An’ you, you fat Hirishman, shiftin’ an’ shirkin” up there among the arrerroot an’ the sago.” “‘An’ the port wine. You've forgot the port wine, Orth'ris. It’s none so bad.” Terence smacked his lips provokingly. “And we're wore off our feet with these ’ere Kangaroos. ‘Come out o’ that an’ earn your Pay. Come on down outer that an’ do some- thin’ ‘stead o’ grinnin’ up there like a Jew- monkey, you frowsy-eaded Fenian.’ 1 When I'm better ay my various complaint T'll have a little private talkin’ wid y@u. In the meanwhile—duck !” Terence flang an empty medicine bottle at Ortheris’ head and dropped into a long chair, and Ortheris came to tell me his opinion of Mulvaney three times over—each time entirely varying all the words. “There'll be a smash one 0 these days,” he concluded. “Well, it'snone o’ my fault’ but it's ‘ard on B company.” It was very hard on B company, for twenty seasoned men cannot push twice that number of fools into their places and keep their own places at the same time. ‘The recruits should have been more evenly distributed through the regiment, but it seemed good to the colonel to mass them ina company where there was a large proportion of old soldiers. He found his zeward early one morning when the battalion Yar Advancing by companics in echelon from the right. The order was given to form com- pany squares, which are compact little bricks of men, very unpleasant for a line of charging cavalry to deal with. B company was on tho left flank and had ample time toknow what was going on. For that reason, presumably, it gath- ered itself intoa thing like a decayed aloe clump, the bayonets pointing anywhere in general and nowhore in particular, and in that clump, roundel or mob, it stayed till the dust had gono down and the colonel could see and speak. He did both, and the speaking part was admitted by the regiment to be the finest thing that the “old man” had ever risen to since one de- lightful day at » sham fight, when a cavalry vision had occasion to walk over his line of skirmishers. He said, almost weeping, that he had given no order ‘for rallying groups and that he preferred to see a little dressing among the men occasionally. He then apologized for having mistaken B company for men," He said that they were but little weak children, and that since he could not offer them each a per- ambulator and a nurse maid (this may sound comic to read, but B company heard it by word of mouth ‘and winced), perhaps the best thing for them to do would be to go back to squad drill. ‘To that end he proposed sending them out of their turn to garrison duty at Fort Amara, five miles away. (it may be observed B company were next for this detestable duty and nearly cheered the colonel.) ‘There he devoutly hoped that their own subalterns would drill them to death, as they were no use in their presen: life. It was an exceedingly painful scene, and I made haste to be near B company barracks when parade was dismissed and the men were free to talk. ‘There was no talking at first, be- cause exch soldier took a new draft and kicked him very severely. ‘The non-commissioned officers had neither eyes nor ears for these, accidents. They left the barracks to them- selves, and Ortheris improved the occa- sion by ® specch. I did not hear that speech, but fragments of it were quoted for weeks afterward. It covered the birth, parent- age and education of every man in the: com- Tt gave a complete account of view, and it wound up with an abstract of the whole duty of a soldier, each recruit, his use in life and the speaker's views on the use and fate of the reoruits of B company. * bo pany by name. jort Amara from a sanitary and social point of | sel! Pr fair as I know'ow, Isat eo od ad esd aot) stops sk , Sets out o° hospital, when fe're in the fort, 1 lay your lives will be trouble frist thelr litte tals, “The army, unlike every P’ cannot be taught throug! shilling books. First a man must suffer, then he must learn his work and the self-respect that that knowledge brings. The learning is hard, ina land where our — | red thing that walks down the street to be looked at, but a living, tramping reality, liable to be needed at the shortest notice, when there is no ‘Hadn't you better?” and “won't you please?" company officers divided themselves into three. --When Brander,” the captain, was wearied, he gave over to Maydew, and when ydew was hoarse he ordered ‘the junior baltern Ouless to bucket the men through squad and drill till Brander could go on aj Out of parade hours the old soldiers poke aod the recruits as old soldiers will, and between the four forces at work on them the new draft bogan to stand on their feet and feel that they belonged to good and honorable service. ‘This was proved by their once or twice resent- ing Ortheris’ technical lecturos. “Drop it now, lad,” said Learoyd, coming to the rescue. ‘Th’ pups are biting back. They're none so rotten as we looked for. “Ho, yes! You think yourself soldiers now "cause you don’t fall over each other on p'rade, don't you? You think ‘cause thedirt don't cake off you weok’s end to week's that you're clean men. You think ‘cause You can fire your rifle without more nor shuttin' both eyes you're something to fight. don't you? You'll know later on,” said Ortheris to the barrack room generally. “Not but what you're a little better than you was,” he added, with » gracious wave of his outty. é CHAPTER IL It was in this transition stage that I came across the new draft once more. Their off- cers, in the zeal of youth, forgetting that the old soldiers who stiffened the sections must suffer equally with the raw material under hammering, had made all a little stale handy with continuous drill in the square, in- ad of marching the men into the open and supplying them with skirmishing drill. The month of garrison duty in the fort was nearly at an end and B company were quite fit for a self-respecting regiment to drill with. ‘They had no style or spring, that would come in time, but as far as they went they were passa- ble. “I met Maydew oue day and inquired after their health. He told me that young Ouless was putting » polish on a half company of them in the great square by the east bastion of the fort that afternoon. Because the day was Saturday I went off to taste the full beauty of leisure in watching another man hard at work. ‘The fat forty-pound muzzle loaders on the bastion made a very comfortable resting place. You could sprawi full length on the iron, warmed by the afternoon sun to blood heat, and command an easy view of the parade ground, which lay between the powder maga- zine and the curtain of the bastion. I saw a half company called over and told off for drill; saw Ouless come from his quarters lugging at his gloves and heard the first “‘s that locks the ranks and shows that the work has begun. Then I went off on my own thoughts, the squeaking of the boots and the rattle of ‘the rites making a good accompani- ment, and the line of red coats and black trousers a suitable background to them all. They concerned the formation of a territorial army of especially paid men jelve years’ service in her majesty’s. Indian possessions, with the option of extending on medical certificates for another five and the certaiuty of a pension at id. They would be such an army as the world had never seen—100,000 trained men, drawing annually 5,000, no 15,000 men, from England, making India their home and allowed to marry in reason. Yes, I thought, watching the line shift to and fro, break and reform, we would buy back Kashmir from the nimbecile who was turning it intoa there we would plant our much mar- imente—the men who had served ten their time—and there they shoul breed us white soldiers, and perhaps» second fighting line of Eurasians. At all events Kashmir was the ouly place in India that the Englishman could colonize, and if we had foot- hold there we would. ‘Oh, itwas @ beautiful dream. I left that torri- rial army swelled to a quarter of a million men far behind and swept on as far as an inde- pendent India, hiring war ships from the mother country, guarding Aden on the one ee side and ro on the other; inter- est on her loans with beautiful regularity, but borrowing no men from beyond her ows bor- ders—a colonized, manufactaring India with a ‘manent surplusand her own fiag. I had Jase installed myself us viceroy and by virtue of my office had shipped 4,000,000 sturdy, thrifty natives to the Malayan Archipelago, where labor is always wanted and the Chinese pour in too quickly, when I became aware that things were not going smoothly with the half com- ny. ‘There was a great deal too much shuf- jing and shifting and “as you wereing.” ‘The non-commissioned officers were snapping at the men and I fancied Ouless backed one of his orders with an oath. He was in no position to do this, because he was a junior who had not yet learned to pitch his word of command in the same key twice running. Sometimes he runted, and @ clear, full voice with a ring init as more to do with drill than people think. He was nervous both on parade and in mess, be- cause he was unproven und knew it. One of his majors had said in his hearing: “Ouless has a skin or two to slough yet, and he hasn't the sense to be aware of it.” That remark had ‘stayed in Ouless’ mind and caused him to think about himself in little things, which is not the best training for a young man. He tried to be cordial at mess and became over effusive. Then he tried to stand on his dignity, and appeared bein oe boorish. He was only bunting for the best medium and the proper note, and had found neither because he nad never faced himself in a big thing. With hig men he was as ill «ase as he was with his mess and his voice betrayed him. Iheard two orders and then: “Sergeant, what is that rear-rank man doing, damu him?" ‘That was sufficiently bad. A company officer ought not to ask sergeants for information. He commands, and commands are not held by syndicates. It _was too dusty to see the drill accurately, but I could hear the excited little voice pit ‘a ing from octave to octave and the uneasy rip- ple of badgered or bad-tempered files running own the ranks. Ouless had come on parade assick of his duty as were the men of theirs. The hot sun had told on everybody's temper, but most of all on the youngest man’s. He had evidently lost his self-control, and not possessing the nerve or the knowledge to break off till he had recovered it again, was making bad worse by ill-language. ‘That is to say, he was amusing his command. ‘Lhe men shifted their ground and eame close under the gun I was lying on. They wheeling quarter-right and they did it very badly in the natural hope of hearing Ouless swear ugain. He could have taught them nothing new, but they enjoyed the exhibition. Instead of swearing Ouless lost his head com. pletely and struck oat nervously at the wheel- ing flank man with a little Maiacea riding cane that he held in his hand for a pointer. T) cane was topped with thin silver over Inequ and the silver had worn through in one place, leaving a triangular flap sticking up. ‘Thad Just time to see that Ouless had thrown away luis commission by striking s soldier when I heard the rip of cloth and u piece of gray shirt showed under the torn queen's shoddy on the man’s shoulder. It had been the merest nervous flick of an exasperated boy, but quite enough to forfeit. his commission, since it had been dealt in anger tom volunteer, and no pressed man, who could not under the rules of the service reply. The result of it, eee the natural depravity of things, was as thodgh Oyless had cut the man's coat off his buck. Kuowing the new draft by reputation I was fairly certain that Pack his trunk. His career asa servant of the queen in an; capacity was ended. ‘The wheel continued and men halted and dressed immediately oppo- site my resting place. Ouless’ was fectly bloodless. ‘The flanking man was a red, and I could see his lips moving in wicked words. He was Ortheris. After seven years’ service and three medals he had been struck by 9 boy younger than him- Furtber, he was my friend and ‘® good man, » proved man and an Englishman. i F 3 fief He F 3 Be i i i i i i [ i i UCLOBER $. 1891-SIXTEEN PAGES. 7 three strides. a ee ae in sir? What's that scarecrow ‘lng here? “Pa out that dank, man, “What What the deuce mean?” Brander, ald think you did feel noe. T thought it yas one of ‘the a ee new draft " good shoulders. car _ Ortheris had hie litle afectations and, .* He turned to Oulese after him, ‘as the rest of us have. He wei very whit endl Said something’ ioe iow voloe! | rid, gave ita litue Kick up, cuddled down “Hey what? What! Ortheris”—the voice | again and fired across the ground that was be- ped. I saw Ortheris salute, say something | ginning todance in the sun heat. and stand at attention. “Miss!” said a man behind. = n .” said Brander curtly. The men| “Too much bloomin’ ground in front,” Or- were dismissed. “I can't make this out. You | theris muttered. = say"—be nodded at Ouless, who said some- “should give two feet for refraction,” sald again. Otheris stood still, the torn of his tune falling nearly Sohis'wusst belt, ‘He | Orthorls fired again, made hie outer, crept in, bad, as Brander said, a good pair of shoulders | found the bull and stayed there, the non-com- and’ prided himself on the fit of bis tanie. missioned officers picking off the shots. “Beg y’ pardon, sir,” I heard him say, “but} “Can't make out how I missed that first,” he I think “Lieut, Ouless’ has been in the sun too | said, rising and stepping back to my side as long. He don’t quite remember things, sir. | Learoyd took his place. I come on prade with s bit of s rip and it dei a practice?” Lesked. | read, sir, 01 ‘ting arms, as ve} “No. Oaly just knockin, i oid, abe oc Bene givin’ ten rupees for second-class shota. I" Brander looked from one face fo the other, | Outer it of course, but come on to show ‘em and, I suppose, drew his own conclusions, for | the proper style o' doin’ things. Jock looks he told Ortheris to go with the other men who | like a sea lion at the Brighton aquarium sprayl- were flocking back tobarracks. Then bespoke | ing and crawlin’ down there don't’e? Gawd, te Ouless and went away, leaving the boy inthe | what a butt this end of ‘im would =— ae lie of the le fumbling with} ‘‘B company come up very wel . — “Tey Ud te. Seayee none eo analy aow, He looked up, saw me lying on the gun, and | are they? Samuelson, even 'e can shoot som came to me, biting the back of his gloved fore- | times. We're gettin’ on as well as can be ex- finger, s0 completely thrown off Eis balance pected, thank you.” that he had notsense enough to keep his trouble to —— “ “I say, you saw that, I suppose?” forked his hen Bo cone dust left “How do you get on with?” ““O, ‘im; first rate. There's nothin’ wrong on 8 a did,” I answered, for I was not feeling po- tucked his rifle yee and repeated: "E's @ gentie- "E's an officer, too. You saw all that messin Fort'Ammerer. T’wasn't none o' my fault, as you can guess, Only some goat in the drill judged it was behavior or: mages ie gpl the fool on p'rade. That's why we di 80 bad. When ‘e ‘it me,I was so took aback I couldn't do nothing, an’ when I wished for to knock ‘im down the wheel ‘ad gone, an’ I was facing you there lyin’ on the guns. After the captain had come up an’ was raggin’ me about my tunic beiu’ tore I saw the young beggars eye an’ ‘fore I could ‘elp myself I begun to lie like a good ‘un. You'eard that? It was quite instinctive, but my! I was in alather. ‘ihen he said to the captain: wez‘e, an’ I 'eard Bran- der whistle an’ then I come out with a new set o’ lies all about portin’ arms an’ ‘ow the rip growed such as you ‘eard. I done that, too, before I knew where 1 was, Then I give Samuelson what-for in the barricks when he was dismissed. You should ba’ seen ‘is kit by the time I'd finished with it. It was all over the bloomin’ fort. Then me an’ Jock went off to Mulvaney in ‘orspetal, five-mile walk, an’ I was hoppin’ mad. Ouless’e knowed it was court marshal for me if I'it'im back 'e must ha’ knowed. Well, I sez to Terence, whisper- in’ under the ‘opital balcony, ‘Terence,’ sezs more alone than when he bad come out. | I. ‘What in ‘ellam I to doy’ I told ‘im all Finally—I rounded the sketch with precision— | about the row same as you saw. Terence 'e he was only one tiny dab of red in the vast | whistles like a bloomin’ old bull finch up there gray field of the Indian empire. He must|in ‘orspital an’ ’e sez: “You ain't to blam work this crisis out alone and noone could help | 87 e. ‘Strewth,’ sez I. ‘D’ you suppose I him, and no one cared (this was untrue, because | Come ‘ere for five miles in the sua to take I cured immensely, he had spoken the truth to | blame?’ I sez. ‘I want that young beggar's Brander on the spot) whether he pulled | hide took off. I ain't a bloomin’ conscript through it or did not pull through it. At last |Isez. ‘I'm a private servin’ of the queen, ai is face sot and his gure stifened. Se oe “Thanks, that's quite enough. I don’t want | mission an’ ‘is airs an’ ‘is money, to hear any met he said 4 ® dry, grating | “What a fool you were,” interrupted. Or- voice, and went to his own quarters. theris not being» meuial, bute free man, had Brander spoke to me afterward and asked me | 00 excuse for yelping. ; me absurd questions as to whether I had seen| _ “That's exactly what Terence said. I wonder Ouless cut the coat off Ortheris’ back. I knew | you got it the same way so pat if ‘e ‘asn’'t been that jagged sliver of silver would do ite work | talking to you. *E sez to me, ‘You ought to well, but I contrived to impress on Brander the | bave more sense,’ "e sez, ‘at your time of life. completeness, the wonderful completeness, of | What differ do it make to you, my disassociation from that drill. I began to | ‘Whether ’e tell him all about my dreams for the new terri-| mission. That's none 0’ your affai torial army in India. and he left me, It's between man an‘ man,’’e sez, ‘if'e 'eld a I could not see Ortheris for some days, but | general commission. Moreover.’ 'e sez, ‘you was told that when he returned to his fellows | don’t look 'andsome 'opping about on your ‘ind he had told the story of the blow in vivid | legs like that. Take’m away, Jock.” Then ’e language. Samuelson, the Jew, then asserted | Went inside that’s all I got outer that it was not good enough to live in a regi- | Terence. ‘Jock,’ ’e sez, as siow as a march in ment whero you were drilled off your foet and | #low time. ‘Stanley,’ ’e sez, ‘that young beggar knocked about like adog. The remark was a | didn’t go for to ‘it you.’ ‘Idon't give a damn rectly innocent one and exactly tallied with | Whether 'e did or “e didn’t. "It me ‘e di ‘theris' expressed opinions. Yet Ortherishad | sez. ‘Then you've only Bot to — called Samuelson an unmentionable Jew, had|*0 Brander,” ‘sez Jock. ‘What accused him of kicking women on the head in | take me for?’ I sez, as I was 60 mad I nearly ‘it London and howling under the cat, had hustled | Jock. An’ 'e got me by the neck an’ shoved him, asa bantam bustles a barn-door cock, |™Y "ead into a bucket 0’ water in the cook from one end 6f the barrack room to the other, then we went back to the fort an’ I and finally had heaved every single article in Samuelson’s valise and bedding roll into the veranda and the outer dirt, kicking Samuelson every time that the bewildered creature stooped r to pick up anything. My informant could not | 20’ account for this inconsistency, bu: it seemed | didn't- to me that Ortheris was working off histemper. |®loto' good. Mulvaney had heard the story in hospital, | ‘‘Ouless ‘e didn’t make no show forsome days First his face clouded, then he spat and then | —n0t till after you was gone, an’ I was feelin he laughed. I suggested that he had better | Sick an’ miserable an’ didn't know what I return to active duty, but he saw it in another | Wauted ‘cept to black ‘is little eyes good. I light and told me that Ortheris was quite capa-| oped’e might send me some money for my le of looking after himself and his own affairs. | tunic. Then I'd ha’ had it out with him on “What the devil ought I to do?” He bit his finger again. “I told Brander what I haddone. T hit him.” “I'm perfectly aware of that,” I eaid, “and I don’t suppose Ortheris bas forgotten it al- “Ye-es; but I'm dashed if I know what I ought todo. Exchange intoanother company, I suppose. I can't ask the man to exchange, f suppose. Hey?" ‘The suggestion showed the glimmerings of Proper sense, but he should not have come to me or any one else for help. It was hié own affair, and I tol 0. He seemed uncon- vinced and began to talk of the possibilities of being cashiered, At this point the spirit moved me on behalf of the unavenged Ortheris to paint him a beautiful word picture of his in- significance in the scheme of creation. He had 4 papa and « mamma 7,000 miles away and per- haps some friends. ‘They would feel his dis- race, but no one else would care one penny. fe would be only Lieut. Ouless of the old regiment, dismissed the queen's service fur conduct unbecoming an oificer and a gentle- man. Tho commander-in-chief who would confirm the orders of the court-martial would not know who he was; mess would not speak of him; he would return to Bombay, if he had money enough to go home, ‘ouse, an’ fie Semcon ® little more trouble with it. 'E sez to me: ‘I haven't been strook with- out hittin’ back.’ ‘Well, you're going to be now,’ I sez, ‘an’ I give 'im one or two for ‘isself i five 't back, but 'e That did “An’ if I did come out,” said Terence, “like "rade and took my chances. ‘Terence was in not I would be catel young Quless by the copia stil, you see, an’ ’e wouldn't give me no vice. scruff av his trousies an’ makin’ an’ exam| him before the men. Whin Dinah came pee T “The day after you left Ouless come across would be under court-martial an‘ all for the | Me carryin’ a bucket on fatigue, an’ 'e sez to sake av alittle bitav a bhoy that'll make an | ™¢ yer d BR ores conse Cae gis officer yet. What's , : come out shoo me, . I fel Know?” fa Me gain! $0 da, eters doiys | oreo ae eceatins eye, but I didn’ I got ready instead. Oh, ‘e's a gentleman We went out together, neither sayin’ nothi the jun- Yrreige ag daerakt ellen} to the other till we was well out in Begad tho’ not ha rd ha’ i glo beyond the river, with ‘igh grass all around, Winioes tool on Me Cee eee | Oe sear chek place where I went off my “I don’t think he knows himself what he with you. Then ’e pute his gun down an’ ‘ead means to do,” I said. sez, 3 should 12ot Wonder.” said Terence. “There's a dale av thinkin’ before a youty man ", ii . whin he's done wrong an’ knows ut,an'is| ‘ve been studyin’ it out mysclf,""e woz, studyin’ how to put ut right. Give the word | | “Ob, you'ave, ‘aveyou,’ sez I to myself, ‘an from us to our little man there, that if he had |* Bice time you've been about it, you bun- ha’ told on his shuperior orf'cer I'd ha’ come | faced little beggar.’ out on fut to Fort Amara to kick him into the | “Yes, sir?’ sez I ‘What made you screen Fort Ditch, an’ that's a forty fut drop!” me?” "e sez. ' 5 Ortheris was not in good condition to talk to. | , "I don't know,’ I sez, an’ no more I did nor He wandered up and down with vd, rooding. s0 farasI could see, over his lost |“: Fink honor, aid using, as I could hear, incendiary | don’t want to exchange mysel(;" sez 'e. language. Learoyd would nod and spit and | ,‘\‘What's comin’ now?’ I think to myself. smoke and nod again and must have been a | ‘Yes, sir,’ sez L ea great comfort to Ortheris—almost as grenta| “He lookedaround at the ‘ign grass all about, comfort as Samuelson, whom Ortheris bullied | 90’ '¢ sez to himself more than to me, disgracefully. If the Jew opened his mouth in | t@ 80 through it alone tho most casual remark Ortheris would plan fucer for a minute ti down it with all arma.and accouterments, whi +4 the barrack room stared and wondered. “Then he turned round again en’ "e sez: Ouless had retired into himself to meditate. | ‘What do you think yourself?’ ‘e sez. Isew him now and again and he avoided me| ‘* ‘I. don't quitesee what y. ® % because I had witnessed his shame and spoken | , ‘What would you like?” ’e sez. An’ I thought my mind on it, He seemed dull and moody, | for ® minute he was goin’ to give me money but and found his half company anything but| ‘¢run is and op to the top button of “is pleasant to drill. ‘The men did their work and | *hootin’ coat an’ loosed it. avo him very little trouble, but just when | _‘\‘Thank you sir, I sez. ‘I'd like that very they should Lave been feeling their feet and | Welk’ Feez ‘an’ both our coats was off a ‘put owing that felt the: spring and | dwn. . swing and snap, the elasticity died outtand i¢ (Hooray !" I shouted incautiously. was like drilling with war game blocks. There |, ‘Don't make @ noise on the butts,” said tae besutifal, little pple in a well-made — theshooting place. “It puts the of men exactly like ay of a perfectly tem- 4 ‘. red sword.” Onless’ halt compan; pdr T apologized and Ortheris went on. | like a broomstick and would have broken as| “ coats was off, an’ 'e sez, ‘Are you cally: Teedy? soz "e. *Come'on, then.” Tcome on, a Iwas speculating whether Ouless had oa sont | bituncertain at first, but be took moone under money to Ortheris, which would have been bad, | the chin that warmed me up. I wanted to e or had apologized to bim in private, which | Mark the little beggar an’I hit high, but h would have beon worse, or bad Piociiea’ to let | Went an’ jabbed me over the heart like a good the whole affair slide, which would, have been | °2¢- wasn’t so strong as me, but he Torst of all, when orders.came to me to leave | Knew |, more, end in about two minutes the station for awhile. Ihad not spoken di-|1 called e.’ E steps back. It was very quietly: + sOrtheris, I strack you on p'rade,’ ’e sez. “Yes, sir,” sez I, “you did.” jo. “I can't ask you toexchange,’ "oe sez. ‘An’ I rectly to Ortheris, for his honor not in-fightin’ then. ‘Come on, then, you're honor, and he was ite ouly guatdimn and he |Feady,’ 'e sez, an’ when I had wind would not say anything but bad words. I come on ‘im one on nose again an’ { time thought | that painted ‘is little tic white shirt t away, ‘aristocra erp ep tehe cal ereahe ‘im, ‘That fetched 'im an’ Iknew it quicker a great deal of that subaltern and in'Fort Amare and wondered what wool te nor light. He ee ae 4 ” ™} the upshot of everything. po ey, for my heart. ve CHAPTER UL an’ Teome in to feel — if T could thro im an’ ‘e got me one on the When I returned it was early spring. B com. | Mouth that downed me an'—Jeok ‘ere.” pany had been shifted from the fort to regular | ,, O**heris raised the left corner of his upper ‘An eye tooth was wanting. duty in cantonments, ‘the roses were got Ping stood over me au’'e ses: ‘Have you ‘ad ready to bud on the mail and the regiment, | enough?’ "eses.. ‘Thankyou, I’ave, sez He which had been at a camp of exercise, am took my ’and an’ pulled me up an’ { was y other things was going through its spring orgy nap lee Ee ad vitae musketry, under an adjutant who had @ notion | 7°° tes rig) gen ‘that its shooting a1 was low. He had ” there’: sired uo the company ollcrs and they bed aneoetdoct, te brought extra ammunition for their rament allowance is just sufficient to foul fhe E company, which countel was vaporing and offering ! F i fe ie if iz H ; § iif fal Ey i if 8 Bi i F i i i i i Le i i till i i iF h TH Bs f i He i ¥. i Fi H i EF i fi i i vate. Ho! ho! figh ® bloomin’ private like me.” ” “What do you think?” he added, brushing the breech of his ritle. “I think what the umpires said at the sham fight, “Both sides deserve grent credit.’ But T wih you'd tell me what made you save him in the first place.” “I was pretty sure that "e ‘adn’t meant it for me, though that wouldn'tha’ made no differ- ence if'e'd been copped for it, Mad he wns % young, too, that it wouldn't ha’ been fair. Besides if Thad ha’ done that I'd ha’ missed the fight and I'd ha’ felt bad all my time.Don't you see it that way, sir/” “It was re rig! ai to get him cashiered if sisted. wered with deep @ recruity to go this an’ my rights look after myself. My righta! ‘Strewth a’ mighty I'm « man.” Jast squad were finishing their «bote in a storm of low-voiced chaff. Ouless withdrew to tle distance in order to leave the men at a T saw his face in the full sunlight for @ moment, before he hitched up his sword, got is "men ‘together and marched them back to cke, The boy was proven. oe FISH HOOKS OF LONG AGO, n't about by rights to to that. just as if I couldn't Some Were Made of Human Rones—Fishing im the Bronze Age. A SUEFR COLLECTION OF FISH HOOKS excited a Stan writer's attention at the National Museum the other day, 3,000 years ago being almost the latest period to which any of them dated back. For it would seem that the fish book is a very old invertion indeed. From a description which accompanied them it appears that many curious things were used as ma- terial for the hooks of early days. Some Were even made of human bones, and this practice has been common up to within a cen- tury of the present time among the natives of the Society Islands, in the South Pacific. Deer horns, ‘liut, boars’ tasks and bone of all sorts were made to serve this purpose by anglers of the neolithic period. It is not dificult to figure to one’s self a cave gentleman in “that ancient epoch sitting upon a newly formed deposit of qua- ternary rock in the middle of @ glacier stream and watching for a smail float of tree bark to give the expected indications of a bite, by disappearing under the surface of the water. Such floats were undoubtedly used in those times, and stone sinkers, too,plenty of the latter having been found in the strata of earth, stone and shell deposit which embalm the remaius of these vanished peoples, The development of the barb was naturally a slow process, and nobody knows just when it was adopted.’ Certainly, however, it was a familiar device many ecuturies before the be- ginning of the bronze age, which period had commencement about 3,000 years ago. his form of metal first came inio use along the European shore of the Mediterranean— the alloy of which it was ordinarily composed being nine parts of copper to one of tin—and tho mechanical improvements accompanying ite introduction were in no point more sur- prising than as applied to fich hooks. How far this is true may be judged from the fact that the fish hook of thirty centuries back was recisely similar in every respect to the ish hook of today. save only in the metal employed, which then was bronze and now is steel. The very curves of the “Limerick” and “Shaughnessy” hooks, 80 popular with modern anglers, are found in these antique specimens. The tope of the shanks, too, are nowadays, to tie the lin of all such relics foun: ‘haps, are strips of burnished copper shaped like fisher, which were utilized by fishermen of the bronze age as arti- ficial bait to attract the prey with its metallic sheen. Until the ago of bronze arrived shell of va- rious sorts furnished material for a large per- centage of the books made and bard wood, sharpened, was much employed. Thorns were also made to serve a like purpose, and until quite recently the Mobaves of Arizona have similarly used cuctus spines, bent into proper shape ‘and tempered by’ the application of ‘alternate heat and moisture — until strong. The early lake dwellers in this country wrapped their hooks with charms manufac- tured from various animal substances, the baits being put on outside. They imagined that the fish were attracted by these fetiches. The ouly gold fish books ever found e of the vir, metal, and were taken from «grave in New Grenada. by. Most surprising on To Have a Bright Lamp. In these days when lamps are used so much the care of them 1s quite an important matter, writes Maria Parloa, in her department in the October Ladies’ Home Journal. If the lamps be good and have proper attention one can not wish fora more satisfactory light; but if | bird badly cared for they will be a source of much discomfort. The great secret of having lamps in good working order is to keep them clean and to use good oil. Have a regular place and time for trimming the lamps. Put a folded newspaper on the table, #0 that any stray bits of burned wick or drops of oil may fall upon it. Wash and wipe the chimneys and shades. Now take off all loose parts of the burner, washing them in hot soap suds and wiping with a clean soft cloth. ‘Trim the wicks and turn them quite low. With a soft, wet cloth, well soaked, wipe the burner thoroughly, working the cloth as much as possible inside the burner, to get off every particle of the charred wick. Now fill the lamps within about one inch of the top, wipe with a damp towel and then a dry one. Adjust all the parts and return them to their proper places. Whenever a new wick is re- quired in a lamp wash and scald the burner before putting in the wick. With « student lamp receptacle for waste oil, which is screwed on the bottom of the burner, should be taken off at least once « week and washed. Sometimes a wick will get very dark and dirty before it is half consumed. It ix not economy to try to burn it; replace it with a fresh ono. The trouble and expense are slight and the in- crease in clearness and brilliancy will repay the extracare. When a lamp js lighted it should not at once be turned up to the full height; wait until the chimney is heated. Beautiful shades are often cracked or broken by having the hotchimneys restagainet them. Now, when lighting a lamp be careful that the chimuey is ost pertectiy straight and does not touch the shade at any point. The shade snould be placed on the lamp as soon as it is lighted, that it may heat graduaily. peace AS How England Could Take Chicago. Col. Theodore A. Dodge in the Forum. In two weeks after a declaration of war Eng- land could place fifty gun boats on the lakes and more than thirty armored vessels in the harbors of our leading cities, and could con- centrate 75,000 regular trocps in Canada, backed by a sturdy militia ready to march across our border, while in twice that time part of her Asiatic squadron could sail through the Golden Gate. Our lako frontier is acobweb. . . No land defenses of such towns as Chicago, sit- uated on the shore itself, could save them from bombardment. . . . The bes rotect & was seriously injured. War has no wsthetic maxims. T of = + leaves no alternative but submission and the payment of a heavy ransom—or bom! it ine town ‘this would be mt over into little loops, as | THE ROD ANP GUN CLUB ‘The New but Prosperous Organtastion. MMOOTING AT CLAY PIGRONS—TRE CLUR HOUSE AND CLOUD GROUNDS —TEE OFFICERS —THE Finest ANNUAL TOURNAMENT—PROORAM FOR NEET HOOTING AT CLAY Pigeons is rapidly be- ning One of the moat Popular amusements years ago there was an entire absence of an: thing that locked like an organization for the Promotion of shotgua shill. Now there are many such scattered ail over the countrys One of the most flours ishing of these, even if it is only a juvenile, is the Washington Rod and Gun Club, and it h suddenly become prominent by reason of the fact that ite enterprise has planned and pro- vided for quite an elaborate series of compe titions, commencing next Monday morning. THE CLUB AND CLUB HOUSE. On tho 9th duy of last May this club was ore ganized, there being thirty-six charter mem- bers. From that period until the present time the club has prospered exceeding! is promise of remarkable growth in the near future. Young as the organization is it hase finer club house and more spacious grounds than a of ite friendly ‘The house, which is amply shaded, is a two- y building. On the first floor is tl ing room, which is fitted up with lockers, racks and other necessary furnishings. second floor is used for the storage of such club a | ments as traps and inanimate pigeons. Unhke other organizations formed for the encouragement of trap shooting the club bes not only two regular shooting dave (Mondays and Fridays), but the traps are out every day from 9 a.m. until dark; this gives to members continuous opportunity for relaxm tion or practice. THE OFFICERS, As popular as any other man known in Wash- ington athletic circles is the club's president, Sam W. Stinemetz. What he knoweth not oa sporting matters is but little, and his stock of information is always on tap for the benefit of the unlearned. In addition to working for the welfare of the Kod and Gun Club, Mr. Se metz is also president of the Washington nel Club and captain of the Columbia Athlene Club. From early life President stinemeta bas been closely identified with field sports HM @ fair shot and has friends enough to make men happy. Vice resident Joseph H. Hunter is one of the vest and most reliable trap shooter United States, and he has responsible for an osertion stronger even thal the foregoing. He has participated in nume: ous competitions in various parts of the coun- try and bas invariably been classed as success ful. Locally he has done well. He won the individual medal of the of which he was tormerly e defeated sixty-five m this city and commands universal respec > dutips pertaining to his position are carefully attended to, some of that business ability which har made him Al. A. Tappan’s right band being loyally used for the ey ey of the club. Secretary MeCor- mick bas but recently taken up trap shooting, but he 1s rapidly developing into & Sret-oless shot, one that promises to give some of the old “sharps” a little trouble. ‘The man who handies the money of sny or- Fruizabon will alwase be an important figure. K. Devendorf would be that without any as sistance from the official title he bears. He is treasurer and @ good one. For years Mr. Devendort has been a gunning enth: but it was not until he became associated with the club that bis interest in trap shooting devel- oped itself. CAPTAIN AND LIEUTENANT. Known hitherto principally asa bicyclist ts the club's captain—George S. Atwater—but af the present rate it will not be long before be te #8 much of an expert with the gun as he has been with the wheel. Mr. Atwater is chief consul of the District division, League of Amor- ican Wheelmen, and was recently honored by election to the responsible position of chair: man of the L. A. W. racing board. He is of the crack shots of the club and ¢an al be relied upon to put upagood score. His record at present is 97 out of a possible 100 is. Wanstall, the lieutenant, is well known to Washingtonians. He is one of the solid, re- liable members, @ man who takes au active interest in the club afluirs and who as always AN ANNUAL TOURNAMENT. It is the intention of the club to give an an- nual tournament, and the event of Monday next is the first step in that direction. The Management disclaims anything pretentious an its primary effort, denominating the affsir “es housewarini ‘aps will be used and squads of eleven men will compete together at one time, the rapid firing system having been decided up: for this shoot. Each man faces a tra bered from one to ten, the man at num trap firing at that particular bird; immediately after firing he moves to trap number two, and soonunti he has fired ata bird springing from each of the ten traps. By this system « large number of men are enabied to ehoot ata time and long delays are avoided. ‘The entire control of Monday's proceedings ommnittee, will be vested in thi which eon- sists of Geo. S. At chairman; Jos. H Hunter, Chas. C. Dodge, Jno. Wanstall, A. W. Hancock, W. H. Stearns, T. H. Alexander. Ofticers for the day will be: Referee, C. L. Burgess; clerk, Chas. C. Dodge: scorer, W. i. ‘Stearns; ussistaut scorer, C. M. Shields. THE PRoORAM isan interesting one and many of the prizes are quite valuable. Most of the rewards are on exhibition in one of M. A. Tappan’s store windows. Following is the complete program: First event, twenty-five single birds-—Pirst prize, one Hunter louder, value €25; second prize, one pair pants to order, $10; third prize, toilet set, €5; fourth prize, one box cigars, 4; fifth prize. one box (half dozen) handkerchiefs, #3; sixth prize, 100 loaded «bells, ¢2. Second event, thirty single birds —First prize, one Cumberland boat, $29: second prize, one split bamboo fishing rod, €10; third Prise cigar freshening case, $5; fourth prize, dozen botties fine claret, $6; fifth prize, 200 loaded sheils, €4; sixth prize, napkin ring, €3; seventh prize, 100 loaded shells, €2 ‘Third event, thirty single birds—Pirst boys’ bicvele, $35; second prize, 100 Keiva Vic~ toria cigars, $10; third prize, one gallon Mary- land Ciub whisky, 6; fourth prize, one lamp, €5; fifth prize, 2 shells, $4; sixth prize, 100 loaded shells, #2. Fourth event, fifteen single birds—First prize, one case dumestic champagne, €20; second prize, silk umbrelia, €15; third prize, 1 barrel flour, 7; fourth prize, box cigars, $7; fifth prize, 100 fine cigars, €6; sixth prize, five pounds coffee and two pounds oC, omen prize, 100 loaded shells, €2; eighth prize, excl four, $1.25. Futh event, twenty single birds—First prize, one silver — ‘and 100 louded shells, ¢17: second prize, oue box Owen House gem fine, €15; third prize, one-bait ‘$12; fourth prize, €10; firth ’ prize, whisky, €8; sixth prize, one bottle brandy, isessaebel'on > Sixth event—Club shoot for Le Fever ham- i pulrl i a ;