Evening Star Newspaper, April 9, 1892, Page 7

BY STRONGER BANDS. WRITTEN EXCLUSIVELY FOR THE EVENING STAR BY MARIE LIVINGSTONE. CHAPTER L HE SUMMER SEASON was at its height at Lake Side. The cot tages were all taken and the hotel propor was filled to its utmost capacity, for the lake above the lake were @y with young people in bright tennis suits, while on the verandas were gathered groups of their elders, chatting or reading the evenin Papers just arrived from Chicago. Others sti ‘Were rowing idiy on the waters of blue Pewau- kee or gliding boldly across ite surface i minfature yachts whose white sails were Mirrored in the depths below. The occupants of one of the light skiffs were a young manand Woman whose desultory conversation inter- Spersed now and then with pauses showed ‘them to be more than mere acquaintances, to whom continuous chatter is counted necessary og qarrant of good fellowship: Both were in conventional blue tume,and their faccs exhibited traces mt exposure to sun and breeze. The deep tan on that of the young man eon- fwasted well with his white cap, from under which pushed y jocks of brown hair. His arms were bared to the elbow, and his easy motion, as he bent to the oars, showed athletic training. Ths face of the girl opposite him fell short of perfect beauty, but was perbaps wot less attractive on that account; there gm earnestness and i those dark-blue eyes which iy of womanhood. To Frank Nailor it had eady become the most winsome face in the world, ‘Shall we row to the island, Miss Ewing?” he asked, as he rested a moment on his oars. “We have cnother hour before dinner.” She assented, and as the bost sped on under his powertul stroke she brought the bow around te the east with the cords of the rudder in a way which proved her no novice in the art of ate 2g. “What a wonderful place this is,” she said, musingly, as by the turn in the boat's course her giance fell on the shores, which sloped gently up to their botel. “People from ail parts of the country meet and become friends in so short a time. When father suggested that we should come here instead of going to Newport I had scarcely heard of the place. [had anidea that the lakes of Wisconsin were in a sort of wil- derness; but it is almost like # foreign water- 1 place for meeting old acquaintances. We found Mr. and Mrs. Kerr here; then you came, and now the Uptous.” “Yes, when we met last fall on the Urania we should herdly have thought to meet again Within a few mouths nearly in the center of the American continent; but this is my third e and Ialways find it so. The fates erful to work wonders.” fates, Mr. Nailor,” she re- plied, smiling, “but it is a great pleasure to Tun scross one’s friends. I am particularl; Blad to see Frances Upton again. She is suc! & charming girl. Did you notice them at lunch—the g: i oung lady “Yes. Are they oid friends of yours?” he asked “Yes and no, ‘it is rather an odd story. ples last osed at first that they were en- tous. but we discovered that this is the same Mr, Upton whose old Virginia home lay next ours ou the Potomac. We were never intimate friends and do not know very much ebout them now. My father was not er and mamma did not like to many questions of either Col. Upton or his n ¥ seemed reserved about talk- When the war bro! com fre- she answered, + mamma to New York to stay her. Iwasa tiny infant then, so of course remember nothing about it. Harold thinks he remembers the old place, but it is a Yague memory; and neither of us since, for it was sold after the war closed. Col. Upton joined the confederate forces, and that is about all Icun tell youof him. I think be lost his wife and child. Miss Upton said onee tha uncle had known a great deal of sor- row. Iwonder he comes here—perhaps be- cause so many southerners do. I believe he has not a very friendly feeling for ‘the north; he was wounded in battle and bas been some: thing of an invalid ever since. Do you know,” she went on, “I wondered when we first ss! them if they were any relation of yours I fancied there was @ resembiance between you and Col. Upton. “I never heurd of them before,” he answered rather brictly. “I should like to have you meet them,” Miss Ewing coutinued, wondering o little at the touch of sadness in his tone. “Thank you, I shall be glad to meet any friends of yours." He fell into an abstracted mood and his companion after glancing at him became silent also, leaning over the side of the boat, piaying with the water and looking down into ite depths. She said to herself that she did not under- Stand this young man. Sometimes she seemed to know him so well, their tastes agreed, their views of lite were much the same: then’ again there seemed an indetinable barrier between them, a reserve on his part, almost a lack of confidence, she fancied. She could not believe that is proceeded from any fault of her own. He spoke very little of himself; still compared With many young men that was a virtue rather than a failing. Perhaps be had had sorrow which made him at times, as now, ap- Pear so gloomy, but it seemed to have grown upon him of late. Sne had not noticed i #0 wach last fall. It might be a disappointment fiers, Imbel Ewing, winced a ibbeas this thought as though it was not quite piessant to her. Piainly she was more interested in the Young man than she liked to acknowledge even to herself. She shook the water from her fin- gers with suggestion of vebemence and sat Bpright air. Nailor was looking at her rather curi- ously. ‘A penny for your thoughts,” he said. “They aro uot tobe bought for penny, Isabel returned. ‘Tell me, what fishing party is that jast south of the island? They have Deon here all day. Are they those North lake people? She bad recovered from her momentary Seriousness and was urging the conversation into fresb channels. Frauk responded rather gravely. He under- this brisk chatter of Miss Ewing's to be tional, but did not discera the cause. ‘She sees how it is with me,” he thought, “aud she means to check further intimacy. But he was mistaken, for Isabel did not yet Bee. ‘The hour was gone and the little boat glided 2 to the pier. think so. May I hope to see you there?” “Ob, ves; I am going to bring Col. and Miss Upton for « while and show them all the phases @f life at a northern sammer resort. Not that ingiy different from others,” she “but tois is the Uptons’ first ex- “Come and meet them. I know you will find f= agreeable, and J want to verify my fancy t your resemblance to Col. Upton.” It was evident to Frank Nailor before that evening was over that even had be been so dis- = a fo tag nore of pay court to the utiful Miss Upton would not be allowed him, except ins very moderate degree, #0 en- tirely was her society sought and monopolized Dy Harold Ewing. She in her turn was not w: obeervant of Bet Netlor r open countenance aud courtly manner of the young man realized at once that she would uot be likely to rank him as one of her special admirers. Her curiosity was awakened enough few questions about him of her friend as they gat together the next morning, but Miss Ewing, the imagined, was rather noo-committal. “They are very pleasant people,’ meet » Their home at Present is in Chi- Ng pep pag a pe Se a 20 regularly to in all had spoken inno- CHAPTER Il. The sultry month of August was drawing to close. The summer had passed much as all summers do where there are young people and opportunities for pleasure and amusement. Tho devotion of Harold Ewing to Frances Upton was more and more manifest, while only less marked, but not less serious, was the friendship between Harold's sister and Frank Nailor. But in the manner of Col. Upton there was a growing coldness toward Harold. warm Virginia blood revolted at the thought of » anion between ono of mn namo and a son of the north—that north op five since he bad foug! spilled. the Ylocd thay shoud now be coursing his veins in the fall vigor of manhood. He de- termined if possible to bresk up the intimacy which threatened to trample on bis pride, and suddenly one morning announced that he was obliged to leave for New York at once on ur- was not proud of his maneuvering. ke to be cruel, vet ho was conscious that this act savored of that quali his departure when Harold whither he had gone to mect bis father, tical journeyings brought bim to that city Koes tow dave Frances was dismayed, but made no sign. Col. Upton said that as voon as his business in Now York was transacted they would go up to the Adirondacks, otherwise she might have ventured to suggest that it was hardly neces- the secret opeing le was uncertain, but, of his movements ber uncle spegper yee JF carried out half our plans yet I thought your uncle intended to stay another month.” “I thought so, too,” responded the girl. “There ar any more sketchos I want to make of this lovely country; and our morning readings will be all broken up.” Vell, what can't be cured must be endured. I suppose; and as for our readings, yeu come ‘to see me in Washington next winter and we will go on with them there. “That would be delightful, if I can,” and the sunshine came back to Frances’ face. “Of course youcan and must; your anole e not have you always to himself; he must spare ou ocoasioually to your friends. Then you will Write us often, won't you? “Ob; yes, Ishall be glad to; and now come and talk to me, while I attend to my packing. From the foregoing conversation it will be seen that the two girls had developed a warm friendship during the few weeks spent together, and in the strength of this friendship lay Har- old's hopes of = future meeting when he re- turned to Lake Side to find that the object of his sweetest hopes and dreams bad been car- ried off during his short absence, lesving him only @ few formal words of farewell. Bat love isughs at lockemiths and self-wilied guardians as w. Upton had not been lo: tled in the Adirondacks when she received a letter from Harold, accompanying « smull book she had wished to’ read and which he lad procured for her on his Chicag There was that in the letter which Frances read under the shade of the grand old forest trees waich lent an added color to the rose of her day dreams for the coming winter and brought a sweet content into her heart despite the tirades against the north and republican government to which her uncle subjected her in their mountain rambles. Frank Nailor was also astonished and some- what disappointed when he learned of the de- parture of the Uptons. “Well, I am really sorry,” he said to Harold. “I liked Col. Upton very’ much. He is a fine old gentleman. I admired his sentiments in many things, and in spite of the difference in our political creeds I fancied, I hope without conceit, that he bad rather a liking for me.” ‘I think he had, far more than for me. At all events.” returned Harold with a slightly bitter laugh, “‘he hardly tolcrated me. “It was rough on you, old it = great shame; but cheer up, a friendly slap. “I prophesy 1¢ w right in fe end. This Tun smooth provervialiy. “Your own affairs seem to, come out all rt of thing doesn't scarcely date to hope they may, denly lapsed into moody silence. “Uu, nonsense, what's the trouble; why don’t you speak out, ? Faint heart never won anything, you know. We all like you capitally, and as for Isabel, you haven't had a fuss of any sort, I hope?” looking kindly at Nailor. “Oh. no, no. nothing of ihat sort: but look Thaven't any business to uek for until she and you know all ‘Well, out with it, then; let’s have the worst. I faucy ot are not exactly « blackguard. 'No, { hope not,” returned the other, smiling. Com for a walk. Haven cigar?” it was evening and the harvest moon had Just risen, flooding the world with her pure sil- ver radiance. The young men strolled on, en- grossed with their conversation, yet neither One indifferent to the fair beauty of the scene about them, the gentle ripple of the lake's sure face, the fields on the opposite shore with har. vested grain standing in heavy shocks, and be- youd a background of dark woods, all brought out into chaste and wondrous loveliness by the istening moonlight. “The trouble is this,” said Frank, after they ir cigars for a few moments with- I know nothitly whatever cf my entage; no,” as Harold started, “I am not irs. Nailor’s son. nor do I know my own name or whether I have the right to any,” he added in alower tone. Then, continuing’ more rap- idly as if to prevent any interruption, “since L have known this Ihave made many ‘efforts to trace my birth, but so fur in vain, and I have now nearly abandoned the hope.’ This is all I can gain in the way of facts. When I was about two years old Iwas picked up ona by- road in Perinsylvania—it was war time then, you kuow—by an army surgeon who was attracted by my piteons cries. No one claimed me. no one could be found to whom I belonged and there I remained at the rear of the Army of the Potomac, nursed by the rough but kindiy hands of invalid soldiers, a sort of child of the regiment. Afterward. I cannot tell exactly how, I was delivered into the hands of a sister- hood in New York and cared for in an orphan. ‘age till I was finally adopted into the home of r.and Mrs. Nailor, made childless by the death of a little son about my age. Now you have my whole history in a nutshell; more than this Ido not know, and the only ciue to the mystery is this.” He drew from his breast a small gold locket attached toa slender chain. On one face were engraved the qnitials F. RU. but so blended in a monogram that it was diffi- cult to distinguish the order. “It was hung avout my neck,” he continued, and within is a lock of hair something the color of my own. Harold Jooked at it attentive): all nonsense about thinking name; the locket proves it, of course.” ‘I suppose #0; 1t is merely one of my morbid fancies. I never bothered about it very much till I knew your sister. ‘Don't bother shost iteng more, then: it'sall right beyond a doubt, Who named you ‘Frank,’ > T indebted : “No, Tam in to the orpna: te for that information. which they guived tore the young officer who brought me to thom. I am only sorry they did not question him more closely. There was very little they could tell Mr, Nailor about me when he took me from their care, but it seems that though I was too youn to tell my name it was noticed that whe: certain soldier called Frank was addressed I auswered or responded in some fashion. ‘That and the initial “F* on the locket were thought sufficient to a “Well, Lam now your story, Fi but simply for the sake of iy paved Fake Dou't imagine for an instant that i the — difference in my or in that of uy of us. Tell it to my mistor ae ‘ou have told it to me. and I will othing Sent it in the meantime.” astes Frank Nailor went to sleep that night with a mach lighter heart than he had known for es & 4 his fate, as he woud Mave Cathet 16, befor turned to his Business the following Monday. i It was the fasbion at Lake Side on Sunday mornings among» number of the guests to drive several miles through the beautiful irge carriage Usual stroll after church was out that Frank looked for his op- portunity of speaking a Ewing, but on morn: read e toot wil by Reusttes we 4 THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, you Certainly; I gball be glad to have some one to shave and enjoy my walk.” y camo out the door of the church Frank led the wav by a more circuitous road than the one by which they had come. “We need uot hasten back just yet,” he said; variety. y walked on he gathered s bunch of the ery golden rod and star-like purple asters , foreshadowing autumn, ‘ing to bloom along the edges of the fields an roulways, touching up with their bright bite of the somber brown and gray of the rail id | fences. Ho put the flowers into her hands. “What an exquisite bunch!" she exclaimed. “They are just coming into perfection now. I must keep these till tomorrow and make a little water color of them. toad oe rod about the = is not fully out lowe ‘is.”” he conversation then juished ‘or aspace. The quiet loveliness of theevening hour hushed them and each became absorbed in dreamy — htfulness. Then Frank breke in ab- ruptly: B “Miss Ewing, I had » talk with your brother last night. He was good ‘enough > listen tes Isbould like very much to rou te bear it now? iailor,” Isabel replied # little wonderingly and taken rather off her guard. “It is the story of my own life, Part of it. Ihope it will not westioned, looking at her h ugh feeling his way. “Surely not,” she answered softly; “I shall glad to henr it no misgiving as to what be ht tell her, no dread of a story she might poreee She trusted him entirely. It was her look as she replied more than her words that sent the hot blood surging through his with euch tumultuous gladness and mulated him to tell his simple tory with re eloquence than he bad put inte it the tention, her eyes Row bent on the road at her feet. now lifted with steady gaze to where the gold and crim- were just begin- | h difeige and son clouds of sunset were massing in glorieus splendor, her hands, which carriud the bloe- soms, a little. clinched. When he had ended she turned and looked straight at him, tears of sympathy just stect- ing in her lovely eyes. ‘ou told me this story becsuse—" ‘Because I love you,” he fluished, quietly, “and I could not ask you to be my wife antil you knew something of my history, I who have no record of birth or ancestry,” “You thoug! t after knowing you as I do this could matter to me?” sho mursiured. ill it not?” he exclaimed eagerly. “How omld Tiel?” oy were advancing very slowly now and seized her bands and ‘held’ them fast) me, Isabel, darling, may I hope for your love? Ist possible, do you think, that you could be bappy with me?”" na Isabel, her face suffused with an exquisite tenderness, answered gently: “I do not think, dear: I know.” sted sun’s rays grew more and more slanting, the shadows deepened and stretched the selves out longer and longer and the sun him- self finally dropped down below the horizon before these two, in their newly attained bliss, found their way back to the hotel. They sat late that eveni: upon the porch of the little cottage dwelling upon pians for the future, while within doors lay the mother quietly re- Joicing in her daughter's happiness, going back in memory to the day of her own betrothal tnd breathing a prayer that the wedded lire of her child might as replete with brightness and joy as her own. CHAPTER IL It was Thankegiving morning. Frances Up- ton and her uncle were seated at the breakfast table discussing the weather, which, as the former said, was neither fish, flesh nor good red herring. but a misty, moisty drizzle, which made the colonel ache inall bis bones. The he ‘ell avidity. It bore the Washington postmark and the contents ran thus: “You will be surprised, I know, dearest | thi Frances, when I tell you that my plan received something of an upset and that to be ma: don the 15th of December it of January. Frank finds that we can go at this time more easily than later. of course, means a good deal of hurry for me, but hope it will not matter seriously to you, since your bridesmaid's gown is tn the happy state of completion. Now, I waut you to come on to Washington as soon as you ean, otherwise we shall lose too much of our visit’ together. Cannot you start by the Monday after this reaches yous And do not’ let Col. Upton for- et that he is to join you in time for th You will excuse brevity, I know, Write us by what train you will jeave Louisville and we will make all the arrangements for meeting you. Yours ever, Tsapen. Frances handed the letter across to her uncle, who read it with a half frown upon his brow. It was sorvly against the old gentle- mun’s will to ailow is nice to go to this wed- ding and thus run directiy into the enemy's lines, but he did not know very well how to avoid it. He had hoped ail along that some- thing would happen to prevent, but as nothing had happened and Frances’ heart was set upon it he could not tind it in his own to disappoint her. He trusted also that all his teachings, bis precepts with which he uad indoctrinated her, his admonitions and denouncements would not bein vain. He made a pretense of grumbling ashe saw her eager, expectant fac ‘Oaly too glad to run off and leave your poor, old uncle.” “Ob, but you know, dear, you are to follow very soon after. You si will, you know, won't you? Now promise,” she gusisted, drop- ping ber napkin aud ruyning round to his end of the table; “if you don’t I'll never forgive you.” So what could he do but did not enjoy the prospect. ‘The meeting be- tween bimself and Sena: Ewing would neces- be strained, but they would both be tuo seusivle to let anything interfere with the gen- eral rejoicings. ‘they had uot seen each other since the war first broke out, and during the excitement which preceded the war eacu had been tov troug an advocate of his own views to be on very good terme, though thtir plantations had lain side by side. Mr. Ewing being on the victorious side and having lost but litle in the great strite had laid aside the bitteruess that still raakled in the breast of his old neighbor, who had returned disabled for active lite to his desolate Lome ouly to weep over the grave of his beautiful young wife, whom he had ieft in the bloom and brullianey of her youth. and to search in vain for the son who was to perpetuate is name and inuerit bis ave homestead. ‘There was then letthim but oxe object on earth for which to live. His widowed vroter, dyin bequeathed to him his infant daughter. together with a third portion of uw large property. Col. Upton took the little girl, ealled Frances for her tutber's sake, into his sorrowing hea: to fill the place of is lost boy, Frauk, al named for this same brother. For years he sougnt to find the son whom hiv wife on ber deathbed left to the care of u trusted maid to be delivered to her busband with her last mes- sage of love. He learned these scanty details from the family of a neighbor to whom the maid had gone to stay fill the war should end and the ther return for hie boy. but ia the general jon of affairs und devastation of homes rty, when the slaves had for the most part error or seeking freedom, the rumors of battles and sight of woldiery proved too much for the ignorant, faithless creature, and she, too, escaped with the child, leaving no trace. When the clofest inquiry and research had failed to reveal any knowl i broken-hearted colonel gi absorbing care and affection was, indeed, a daughter to him and whose romise? Yet he sweet, winning ways alleviated in time his rf. o- grief. . je seldom spoke of her uncle's ‘trials, which sbe had learned by degrees as she grew to womanhood; respect and reverence f him pr her ever suying more to their, friends than that he had lost his wife and cbild > ‘The brief, solemn service was said and the ‘ty returned to the Senator's and ciborwored in pele na eave Ratiors Fe lo congratulations of their hundreds. Then came a breathing spel time for Isabel to change ber bridal robes for —e costume. day. If only Frank's f 2 here to witness his son's happiness I could ask — more. w rep! fh comforting Hi ting of that other father whose existence, whether ‘living or dead, was un- known to them all. Col. Upton at that moment was standing near them talking to an old friend at one of the Feception room. “Ho was. mying. ‘Thad once hoped to seen son of mine—* when n loud scream from behind caused them to turn in time to see an old colored woman disappear down the hall shrieking: “It is his hon” She had watching the festivities om the hall and recognized the celonel, whom she supposed was dead. Herold instantly fol- lowed her into the butler's pantry to investi- gate and put an end disturbance. The other servants ° J STORY OF A BAD INSECT. Latest News About the Potato Bug and Its Wicked Work, WHERE THE CREATURE CAME FROM ORIGINALLY, AND HOW IT MADE ITs WAY EASTWARD ACROSS THE OONTINENT—NATCRAL HISTORY OF THE BEFTLE—SOME OF THE ENEMIES WHICH PREY ‘UPON rr. 66 A LTHOUGH ONE SELDOM HEARS nowadays of tho potato bug, respect- ing which there was such an excitement afew Years azo, tho insect is nt present more widely distributed than ‘ever before,” said an en- tomologist to a writer for Tae Sran. “Its swarms have extended to the far northwest, at- tacking the esculent tubers of Nova Scotia, while other armies are devastating the gulf states. In fact, it may be said that they have spread over all the United States east of the Rocky mountains. West of that greatchain of hills they have never been able to go, for rea- sons which I will presently explain to you. “The potato bug had its origin in the moun- tain regions of Colorado. There it preyed ncring:| upon a species of wild potato peculiar to the He was endeavoring to make something {n-\| telligible out of her jargon, when Col. Upton, who had heard his name, ‘came in, inquiring the cause of the trouble. ‘He succeeded vincing the woman that he was not an appari- tion, but it was his turn to grow pale and tremble when the egress gasped out in be- seeching tones: “Oh, Mars Robert, Mars Rob- ert, forgive me. poor misbul ole sinner, don’ kill me, don’ kill me.” “You are Myra,” he said sternly, seizing her by the shoulder. ‘Tell me quickly, what did you do with my son? Be quiet, wom have no intention of hurting you; 1 only want you to tell me what became of my boy. By degrees she recounted to him how she had run away from Mra, Parker's in the night and finally found her way ap into Pennsylvania where she heard her 8am had gone. Here, she firmly maintained, the child bad been stolen, from her. She did not know how, she left him in the woods while she went toa farm house to beg for food and when she returned ho was gone. From this version of her story she would not deviate. The child had been stolen and she knew nothing more of him. She then renewed her cries for pardon and mercy. The confusion brought Mrs. Ewing. Isabel and Frank, greatly astonished at the situation, which they could hend, but which Harold tried hast- , Marg Upton,” old Myra was saying, “I tried to fin’ him, ‘deed I did: he had on the little locket you gib Miss Bessie with you ha’ init. I reckoned I fin’ him by dat.” The true state of the case at once flashed upon all save the colonel, Frank, bis voice shaking with emotion, seized him by the hand and exclaimed: “My father, at last I have found you!’ He then drew from his breast the locket and pats into, tho colonel’s hand. “This seldom leaves me,” he said, “‘and I felt specially con- strained to wear it’ on this my wedding day, for what reason is now clear. What stronger proof than this can be needed! “It is the very same—R. F. U., Robert Fraser = locket I used always to wear and which I gave my wife when I was obliged to leave her. Ob, my boy, my boy !' When Col. Upton fully realized that it was indeed his own son who stood before him he was greatly overcome,and the young men drew him gently away to the library, where hemight havo quiet and recover from the shock of the discovery. Then Harold left father sad son together and went buck to the guests, many of whom were still in the parlors, to it in tell- ing the Joytal truth that ede stranger than ictior Before long the colonel leaning on the arm of his gon, a little <p but beam the second time re offered. ing with happiness, and that day congratulati The carriage is waiting for Mr. and Mrs. Nailor,” announced the footman, Isabel looked at ber husband in amazement: both had completely forgotten this part of the day's program in the great excitement. The perplexity in their faces provoked heart; laughter from those standing around, in whic! ¥¥, t00, soon joined. Why, you can't go, of course,” Senator, “but there aro other trains. Tell Thomas we will send for him iater." “Tam not to love you so won again, amI, my son?” the colonel asked. “Where are you’ go- ing?” "To New York, sir; and you will with us, will you not, you and my cousin? We can start tonight. That will give you time for all prepa- rations. My mother is to remain here with Mrs. Ewing until our return, and then wo can oak our arraugemente for going on to Chicago together. ‘Thus it was settled and it came to pass; bat about en Motr barney the departure that ning Frances sought out her anole, where stood alone in the hall fastening a shawl strap, and slipped her hand into his arm in a conxing fashion which he knew of old. ‘Weil, my little giri, what is it? Have yon felt left out in the cold today? You know you are not auy jess dear tome because I have found my son. no. I didn’t think that at all. I only at I—that Harold would like to lu, indeed; he would, would he? Where Righthere.” Frances pulled aside a portiere and Harold crossed to thom at once, Po” He made his statement and request in a simple, straightforward mauner, and the old soldier listened without interruption. Then he answered brokenly “Take her and be worthy of her. I can refuse nothing today, and if I was unwilling before it was not from any persoual reason This day has witnessed the uniting of a friend ship long ago ruptured, and I aim heartily glad that another link may draw us all together with still stronger bands. —-, Written ior The Eveninx fe EASTER EGGS. Some Suggestions for the Gratification of the Little Ones, Children are as fond of novelty as their elders, so every year at Christmas and Easter fresh varieties of toys appear to delight the lit- tle ones. A Ge:man lady has devised a pretty caster egg, which is not difficult to make at home if one has time and patience. ‘The egg should tirst be boiled with any of the harmless dyes which can now be purchased at all stores where such things are sold, then sawed across with a fret sawand the contents removed. Next gum tie two halves of the sheli together for the distance of two-fitths of an inch with a strip of a postage stamp fastened on the insite. ‘ ‘Then with closely clipped woolen balls of yel- low, black and yellow, white, &c., make a uain- ber of chickens. For this purpose take fine wire double it, then wind the wool over the card board for the balls—the first and second ones must be the lurgest—and as soon as each ball is ready to tie slip it on tue wire. When the first bali is tinished, tied and lipped, bend the end of the wire firmly around it, leaving a bit projecting. Slip the second bali on the wire and when this is accomplished the lege must be madc—the directions will be given later—and twisted around the wire. Next slip on three more balls, cach smaller than the preceditig one. ‘These tive form the chicken. ‘The bit of wire left projecting from the first ball forms the bill, on which mast be gutamed the sharp quill end of a feather, which afterwards is nearly concealed by windiug flesh-colored yarn over it. For the little fect ase three bits of wire for the claws, bind them firmly together at the top with the wire that is to form the legs and wind flesh‘colored yarn around the who! bottom to the the best shape round biack into each of the egz shi A black chicken ina gilded shell would be a pretty penwiper. Sowe oue who wishes to make an inexpensive Easter gift may welcome is suggestion. Iwill add for the benefit of those who have not made these clipped balls that an excellent way is to cut two circles from card board, make around hole in the center of each, place the two disks together and wind the wool from the center over the edges until the w from the yp. Next clip the chicken into ible and supply it with two beads for eyes. Blip one the | ered. With a pair of sharp scissors cut lft HH £ E Fst H ! f i j at hy i if vy Pee f i the wool around the outer card boards, a Rockies and known as the ‘sand bur.’ This Plant, which found ite home in fertile tracts among the hills, spread eastward through man’s agency in one way and another. Doubtless the cattle traffic was one means by which the sand bur was conveyed across the plains into Mis- souri, where it flourished. Incidentally to the spread of the plant toward the east the potato bug which :t nourished made ite way in the direction of the Atlantic ocean. ‘THE BUG INVASION OF THE East. “In 1661, atabout the time when the rebellion broke out, the armies of potato bugs, which had already acquired @ taste for the cultivated tuber, invaded Iowa. During 1864 and 1865 ‘they crossed the Mississippi river. Such a stream was no bar to their progress, and it is certain that their hordes passed over it into Illinois at five points within a distance of 200 miles. In 1967 the beetles had made their way into Indiana, and by 1869 they had appeared in Ohio. During March, 1871, they swarmed on the wing in the streets of St. Louis, and the fol- lowing summer saw the Detroit river literally alive with them, At the same | ime they were crossing Lake Erie by myriads on ships, chips, staves, boards or any other floating objects which’ wore at hand. By 1878 the advance guards of tke vast army had appeared on the Atlentic seaboard, in West Virginia and in the District of Columbia, The ocean beaches were thickly covered with them and only the At- lantic itself was able to check their march. At some places in Connecticut the insects were washed ashore in such numbers as to poison the air. Vessels were boarded by them in such swarms that the hatches had to be = closed. way trains were stopped by them, the rai having to be swept off and the tracks sanded before the engines could proceed. ‘The creatures accomplished their wonderful march across the continent at the rate of from fifty to cighty-eight miles s year. : HOW THEIR JOURNEYS ARE MADE. “You must not imagine, however, that the progress of potato bug armies is accomplished by crawling. They perform their journeys by flying, being provided with large rose-colored wings, which when the insects are at rest are compactly folded up beneath the striped wing cases. At the same time, it would not do to suppose that their spread over the more popu- lous portions of the country is to be attributed to their power of flight alone. Undoubtedly they avail themselves of every means of trane- portation afforded to other travelers. Very often they must have got a hift on eastward- bound trains, and there is no question of the fact that they crossed the barren plains of the west by being carried. Sometimes they were conveyed as eggs on living plants or in the chrysalis state in lumps of earth, but nearly always the perfect beetles obtained transporte, tion on vehicles of various kinds. Why did they move eastward? The persistence with which they pursued their route in that direc- tion is to some extent mysterious, although they were necessarily in pursuit of food, but one reason was that they could not go west- ward, not being able to pass over the Rocky mountains. Observe, when you speak of the march of the armies, it is not meant that they progressed beyond one district and into another. All the country becoming filled with al the overplus of the swarms sought other ‘THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS BARRIER. “There are good reasons for believing that the Rocky mountains will be an impassable barrier to the potato bug, just as they haye been to many other insects. These destructive beetles from Colorado have never reached more than three or four miles into that great chain of hills, or to about the middle olevations—say 8,000 feet above sea level. The reason is that the atmosphere abona(ghatlanal is-20 and Farefied that the eggs oF the larve which suc- ceed in hatching from them shrivel and dry up. Porhaps I should explain to\ you right here something of the natural history of these insects, ‘The beetles spend the cold season beneath the ground... They have been dug up from depths varying from a few inches to sev- eral feet. Soon after the earth has thawed out they issue from their winter quarters. At this time they fly about x good degl, making jour- neys of considerable extent through the air, Aswoon as the potato plants have appeared above ground the female beetles begin to lay their eggson the under sile of the leaves. Very often they will even work into the earth in order to feed upon the young leaves before the latter have fairly shown themselves. exgsare oval, of a dark yellow, aud posited in clusters. Within less’ tha: the larvw are hatched, they burrow into the ground and go into the ciurysalis state, from which they emerge as per- fect beetles two weeks Jater. Each female lays from 500 to 1,000 eggs. NATURAL FOES OF THE POTATO BUG. “There wase great scare at one time about the supposed poisonous qualities of potato bugs, but it was proved that the cases of poisoning by their agency reported were due to the burning or scalding of iarge: masses of the insects ata time. Under such conditions certain poison, evidently of a very volatile na- ture, was disiributed in the air, producing in persons who happened to be Close various symptoms of an unpieasant nature, ellings and sickness at pread eastward they encoui tered a great number of enemies to destruc- tion by which they bad never been exposed be- fore. Among these was the crow, which not only takes the bugs from the potato vines, but lnte-it the season digs into the earth in search of the hibernating individuals, ‘The common quail glso performs a similar service, as well as many other birds. Among domesticated bird: tue duck was for several years the only species that wonld touch potato bugs. After a tow years, however, chickeus learned to cat first the eggs and then the larve, finally acquiring the habit of feeding upon the beetles the: selves. Undoubtedly the skunk is fond of the beotles, the common toad often gorges itself with the larva, while the bincksnake has a like appetite. The most effective natural enomics of the pest aro other insects, many of which prey upon it destructively. “Owing chietly to the efforts of these natural foes potato bugs have today ceased to be re- garded asa very dangerous enemy to agricul- ture, notwithstanding the fact that their distri- bution geographically was never so wide as now. Probubly they aro worst at present in New England. As a rule, upon appearing newly ina locality they are very bad for three or four years. By that time their foes, natural and otherwise, have got the better of them and they cease to be very destructive. Although there is no prospect that potato bugs will ever be wiped out altogether, they are no longer to ‘be feared.” —_— Advantages of Old Costume. From the Saturday Review. We should like to call attention not only to the picturesqueness but to the convenience of the male costume during the first twenty-five years of the sixteenth century. Many of our doctors are assuring us that an extraordinary amount of pulmonary diaease is due to the fact In about a fortnight D.C. SATURDAY, ‘APRIL 9, 1892-SIXTEEN PAGES. PEOPLE OF THE OCEAN. Cartous Beliefs Which Are Held About Mer- men and Mermaids STORIES TOLD OF THEM ALI. OVER THE WORLD— SEEX BY EARLY NaVIGSTORS—SOME WuicH HAVE BEEN CAPTURED—NABRIAGES BETWEEN SEA PEOPLE AND HUMAN BEINGS — WATER ernrrzs. N THE BEBRIDES SEA BEANS ARE supposed to be fairies’ eggs. Whether this is a eorrect belief or not it is cer- tain that all pooples of the world living near the ocean have entertained faith that ite waters were inhabited by human-like creatures more or less supernatural. Mor- men and mermaids have figured in song and story from the most ancient times. Many of the accounts given respecting them are highly circumstantial. On one occasion a Shetland fisherman saws group of mermaide dancing on the strand. He ran and picked up the seal- skin belonging to one of them before she could secure it’ Then she was at his mercy and was obliged to marry him. One of her children found the ecalskin subsequently and showed it toher. She immediately put it on and escaped into the water, being afterward seem by her husband in the form of a seal. MERMAIDS AB BEALS. Mermaids have beon said to commonly ap- Pear in the form of seals while in the water, divesting themselves of the skins when they come on shore and assuming the aspect of beautiful girls, Sometimes they are ofan amiable disposition, while on other cecasions they are extremely ‘mischievous. In Russin they are disposed to tickle bathers to death. Water sprites in that country are imagined to be the ghosts of till-born and unbaptised children or of drowned persons. They light the mysteri- ous jack-o'-lantern, Sometimes they raise storms, and ordinarily they have much intlu- ence upon the luck of fishermen, Columbus described three mermaids which he himself saw floating on the waves. Many other early navigators give similar accounts. In the writings of Hendrik Hudson that bold mariner say: of our company looking overboard saw a mermaid. She came close to the ship's side, looking earnestly Soon after a sea cai From the navel up hi like a woman's, her body as big as one of us, and long black hair hanging down behind. Id by old- time voyagers were dugongs and manatees. Sealsand walrus seen by persons unfamiliar with those animals have given rise to many such tales, Scoresby says that the front view of a young walrus without tusks resembles a human face so remarkably that “it required very little stretch of the imagination to mistake the head reared above the water for that of a human be- ing. French cajl the manatee “sea woman,” and the dugong is named by the Dutch “little man.” Stories of mermaids singing or talking may have arisen from hggring the cries of seals, which resemble those offphildren semewbat. 4 MERMAID ON SHORE. Inalearned report respecting s mermaid caught in Denmark, who was taught to knit, Dr. Kerschur describes the creature as having ® pretty face, mild eyes, @ small nose. fingers joined by cartilage like a goose’s foot and reasts round and hard. He asserted that mermaids and mermen constitute a submarine Population, which, partaking of the skill of the ape and the beaver, build grottoes of stone in Places inaccessible’ to divers. In 1611 a sea woman was taken alive near the island of Boro. Sh five feet long. After surviving four di @ died, not having eaten anything. Her head was like that of a woman, the eyes light blue and the hair sea green. The upper parts of her body were almost as whiteas a woman's, but the lower part was like the tail of a fish. IN carriviry. It is related that in 1493 a mermaid swim- ming in the Zuyder Zee during » period of tempest and very high tides was carried through a hole in a broken dyke and could not find her way out again. She was captured and taken to the town of Edam, where she was washed and cleansed from the sea moss which bad grown about ber. | She then appeared like any woman of the land. adopting proper dress ard par- taking of 5 et food. tried often to ake her way to the water, closely guarded. People came from great distances to see her. Sup- Posing this story to be true, the woman was either a fraud or a demented outcast.’ in the Faroe Islands it is believed that on every ninth night the seals cast off their skins, assume hu- man forms and dance on the beach. But if they lose their sealekinsin agy way theycannot resume the shapes of seals. CABEYISG OFF HUMAN BEINGS. Numerous instances are related of these people of the sea having carried off human beings, conveving them to their pearl-lined grottoes in the depths. Mermen have in this manner often obtained human girls for brides, while mermaids not infrequently seek to secure for husbands good-lookiag youths from dry land. Sometimes the individuals who are en- trapped or seduced into taking up a submarine manner of life have found it much more enj able than their former terrestial existence, but in a majority of the cases on record bi sought to escape sooner or dn Denmark one day a merman enticed # maiden to the bottom of the ocean. She became his wife and bore him several children, but she always felt a longing to go up when she heard the bells in the steeples of her native village. Finally ber husband per- mitted her to go, on promise that she would return, but she never did come back, and his wails from the depths are often heard. AN ARAB BELIEF. ‘The Arabs believe that certain fishmen live on islands in the Indian ocean and eat drowned opie. Ina Japanese story a boy has his fish oo carried off by a large fish. A merman ars and sets him afloatin a basket, in which he sinks to the palace of the sea dragon, whose daughter he falls in love with and marries. In the tale of the Lord of Dunkerron be en- counters a mermaid. “For a beautiful spicit of ocean, "tis said, ‘The Lori ot Dunkerron would win to bis bea. When vy a mt be fer nur, ull or luster. Just Wasted and fell her bosom, tat heaved wisi a billowy swell.” SOME EXTRAOMDINARY TALES. It is said that a mermaid asked a Scotchman who was reading the Bible if there was any com- fort in the book for her. He replied that there was mercy for the sons and daughters of Adam, whereupon she screamed and disappeared. In the year 1619 two councillors of Christian IV of Denmark, while ig between Norway and Sweden, discovered a merman swimming about with a bunch of grass on bis head, ‘They threw outa book aud line, baited with a slice of bacon, which the merman seized. Being caught, be threatened vengeance so loudly that ho was thrown back into the sea. One extraor- dinary tale relates to @ maiden who while on a voyage is seen and beloved by a merman. He bores a hole in the ship and transforms her into a serpent, thus enabling her to escape through the hole. after whieh he cl her into a mermaid and makex her his wife. Ina Sicilian story a maiden treacherously thrown into the sea is carried off by a merman and chained to his tail. On one occasion a peasant is said to have chalked across upon a water wprite’s back, preventing him from going into his natural ment until the cross was re- moved. A party of fishermen once found a lump of the sea and gave it to St. Theobald, their bishop, to cool his gouty feet. He heard a voice inside and succeeded by saying thirty masses in liberat and —, the soul of the spirit within: Mrecy habs cine aan: ‘pond in ter- many is inhabited by water spirite. Some are nd others ‘bad. They often come Her er sr la toot Sein kknife and fork and re- his deak soci: 40 conte to the check, = ELECTRIC PLANT CULTURE. Applying the Galvanic Current by Wires Us- derground to Vegetables. ILECTROCULTURE FOR PLANTS IS A science of the future. Already it has ad- vanced far enough to suggest that the crops of the twentieth century may be grown with the aid of electricity. It has been proved that veg- etables of various kinds, such as lettuce and many sorte of flowers, including fuchsias and petunias, thrive wonderfully under the electric light, developing far more rapidly and lox riantly than in sunlight alone. Results ob- tained by experiments with the galvanic cur- rent appear to show that equally favorable ef- fects can be secured by the direct application of electricity to the plants through wires. One method adopted in the trials that have been made was to employ a battery, the two wires connected with which were buried in the ‘oil and extended in lines parallel to each other. Between the wires were planted peas, Grass and barley, and in every case the crop Produced wasfrom 18 to 27 per cent better than that raised by ordinary processes of culti- vation on the ame land. ANOTHER TEST was made by planting iron uprights to the number of about sixty round one hectare—two anda half acres—of land. On top of each of these uprights was placed an electric accumu- lator in the form of a crown surmounted wil teeth, and the accumulators were all united together by wires. ‘The result of this was an increase of the crop by one-half. Yet another plan adopted was to bury plates of zine and copper alternately in the ground at distances of about thirty yards from each other, con- necting them two-and-two by wires. In this manner the production of certain garden plants was doubled und in some cases quadrupled. ‘THE TREORY ENTERTAINED is that electricity aids in the breaking up of the soil constituents, thus rendering the food of the plants more readily assimilated. Vegetable Stowths treated with it mature more quickly and are not affected by destructive fang. Pe more remarkable still, it has been ascer- tamed that the galvanic current can be applied to seeds with the effect of rendering their subsequent development more rapid aud eom- plete. One experimenter has mado trials in this way with the seeds of harricot beans, sun- flowers and spring aud winter rye. While wet the seeds were put into glass tubes open at bothends. Copper disks were pressed against them from both ends of the tabe, the disks be- ing connected with the poles of an induction coil, The current was kept on for a couple of minutes, and immediately afterward the seeds were sown. RLECTRIC SPROUTS. The electrified peas sprouted in two days and & half, while others of the same original batch not treated with electricity did not sprout until four days had passed. Electrified beans sprouted in three days; non-clectrified in six days. Electritied sunflowers sprouted in evght ys and @ half: non-electrified in fifteen da ‘The most marked result was accomplished with barley, the non-electrified seeds of which took five days to sprout, while those which were electrified required only two days. It was sub- sequently observed that the plants grown from the electrified seeds were in every case much better developed; their leaves were rand their color brighter than in the plants obtained from non-electrified seeds. EXPERIMENTS AT KEW. At the Botanical Gardens of Kew experi- ments were tried by burying large plates of ine and copper in the soil and connecting them with wires so arranged that the current should pass through the ground. In the earth thus prepared pot herbs, flowering plants and garden vegetables were planted. They all Hlourished remarkably, the vegetables in par- ticular growing to an enormous size. Potatoes propagated under the influence of the electric current are seldom diseased. Possibly elec- tricity might be found to bave some effect upon the unterritied potato bug if it could be made to traverse the branches of the plant on which itfeeds. Itcan be easily understood how the constitution of the bardiest Colorado beetle would sooner or later be undermined by the enervating effects of a current through his body. “Make it an alternating current and he would be done for entirel; eee How te Care for Winter Clothing. The methods for destroying moths anzually recommended are countless, yet many prove utterly powerless against the increase of the little pest. How often the housekeeper sighs heavily when, at the commencement of winter, she passes cloaks and furs in review, at th sight of ravages in these garments. A hole rag petit legend gap wy Sgn ming will render the costly article worthless. After a long trial of all sorts of preventives— pepper, insect powder, moth kc.—a way was discovered which for several years has proved a complete protection against these in- sects. A large wooden chest is used for storing all our winter clothing. The bottom is first covered with «layer of thick paper, on which is laid a number of linen rags soaked in kero- sene oil and wrapped in paper. Over these is @ second layer of paper. Next place in the chest a large linen sheet, ampleenough to hang over the sides, and lay ‘upon it the winter clothing carefully folded, first, of course, brushing it thoroughly that dust and moth eggs, if any have been laid, may be removed, otherwiseall precautions would be vain. Put the heaviest articles, such as men's overconts, at the bottom, then the ladies’ evening cloaks, then the lighter winter jackets and shawls, and scatter lumps of camphor thickly among the garments aud also in the pockots and sleeves. ‘The fur collars and muffs, into which bite of camphor are also thrust, should be laid on the top. Lastly fold the sheet closely over the whole, tucking it in tightly at the corners. If not large enough to do this put a second one over the whole. Lock the chest and set it away in a cool place if possible till the next autumn. Some persons who objected to the use of kero- sene lest it might soak through the sheet have substituted, with entire success, lavers of tar paper placed below and above the sheet. This paper can also be laid between the garments, but care must be taken not to let it touch ‘them, as the color might stain the fabrics. i Reply-Pald Postal Cards, From the Youth's Companion. Years, and would be economical and convenient in domestic as well as in foreign ‘They sre composed of two cards, folded im the form of a siugle card! and need no other fastening. adent an tnvare 0 cmmety ot dressed and probally prompt answer by writ. ing his full address on the reply fold of the card before mailing’ it; the card, on its first journey, address. “41 Temple Jones,” or * AN INDUSTRIAL Colored People of Virginia Propose Eetabe lishing One at Manasane. A movemont started among colored people in Prince William county, Va., will be watched with interest. The object is to establish an in- dustrial school to be situated st Manassas A statement or address to the public issued by the projectors and friends of the enterprise says the object is to give instruction in the om inary English branches and the industrial arts to the colored people living in a region of Virginia not yet recovered from the devaste» tion of the late war. The last census shows ir the county of Prince William (in which Manassas is the largest town) and the adjoining counties of Stafford, F quier, Loudoun at a Populations of 23.972, with a tLe, from five nt inctuss of 1.200 wus “cee tatoos "Dates of a bureau Serene Bry ee average daily attendance im the colored as24.5. This small percentage is attributed wt Tine sinc Tetet oanamptepena 6 0 are a are sostraitened financially thet they cannot pay the colored Inborers them to send their children to loyment or earning their scanty wages. here are no industrial schools in this section of Virginia. The Manassas Industrial School ie thé result of an unsectariam orton the of the colored people in ite vicinity to themselves and to meet the needs of the situa tion above outlined. is signed by Rev. of Manassas, Rev. Henry War- ring of Alexandria, Rev. D. G. Bi Winchester, “Jonnie Dean of jeury P. Montgomery, R. D. Mussey, Menwether and Jane E. Thompson of A number of persons in this eity have interested im the project, and among have written letters commending it missioner Harris of the barean of edi Rev. Dr. J. E. Rankin, president of Hi University, Senator Hoar, Auditor Johu Eaton, Be Miss Dean was born asiave, but bas accom plished much notwithstanding the disedvan- tages under which she began life. Aliss June E. Thompson of this eity, whe is in this proposed in school, writing to Tur Bram concerning ‘the enterprise, says: “I am glad to unite my efforts with Miss Dean's in fostering the spirit of self-help among the colored le birth, ac- cepting her life axa gift Irom God, she counts no effort nor sacrifice great af ehe can uplift’ her people. She strengthens the weak, 1 the hopeless and awakens intelligence and the spirit of enterprise among the benighted. dient housekeeper, and in the management of her mother's farm of fifty acres has proved borself no less competent in farm doubt her fitness to teuch in e school of the kind proposed.” Muss Dean was graduated from the publie schools in this cits, was converted First ple, prosecuting ber labors under greet Sitivulties, and mew bes four large Sunday schools in mountains in connection work 1s what led the people of Manassas to upon ber to raise the moucy to build the. trial school. Several hui due on the land chosen as the site of