Evening Star Newspaper, August 20, 1892, Page 7

OWEN SAT at the little farm- ba house window wf and looked out NE} into the twilight of a May evening. Two swallows were sailing above like flosting silhouettes in the blne sky, where the stars were twinkling into sight, one by one. The trees and grass wore the fresh green of early springtime. A lilac bush by the window ‘was heavy with fragrant clusters of bloom. and a little bird, making himself comfortable in its branches for the night, occasionally chirped faintly. But Mra. Owen was not thinking of the even- ing’s beauty. She was tired and unhappy. It had been a warm, languid day, with house- cleaning and an extra large ironing to do, be- Sides the thousand and one other duties which | make up the life of a western farmer's wife. Everybody had been cross Teffection of her own ill hum Even Bert had gone to the field that morning leaving a few hasty words to rankle in her heart all day. He had forgotten them in a moment; they hurt her yet. Aslight breeze came in at the open window and rnstied among the pages of the letter she was writing—such a foolish, sentimental letter for a sensible little woman to write. Kate. my dear—so the letter began—the lise blossoms are responsible for this letter. Someway they always carry me back to school daysand to you. Do you remember how we heap them on our desks until the air of the dingy old room was sweet with their per- fume? Have you forgotton those delightful strolis in the first warm spring evenings, when we walked arm in arm and talked of the lifo and joys to gome—just such evenings ax thin? ‘The world has not changed. It is only I who we changed. [look backward now, not for- rd, and my life seems such a misernble fail- m How I would have scorned f drudging away on a farm. I wonder, Kathrine, has yours been such an ordinary. commonplace affair as mine. When last I heard from you yon were happy in your city home, with ail the advantages that money ean buy, with opportunities for education and improvement, which I. who know you so well, understand how mach you appreciate. Thave heard, too, of your busband’s pros rity. that he is now one of the most suecess- I attorneys in your city. Surely the fates have given you the fulfill- | ment of all your desires, We are reparated by more than miles now, friend of my other dara. There has never been time-for anv impro’ ment on my part. It has been nothing but work. work, work, and what has been accom- plished? A roof over our beads, it is true, and enough to eat and wear, but, ob. much of beauty and culture and art, so much /. that I have longed for, am hungry for and can never be catisfied. If father had only fived it might have been different, but since he failed and died every. thing seems to have gone wrong. Sometimes I think that even the exasperating trials of school teaching that used to torment me are better When Bert and I were married, en though he was'a farmer's son, we hardly expected to live so. But we camg, west and this farm was so temptingly near a popming town (hich after all did not boom) that we bought it, and here we are. among a set of good, un- educated people. who eare for nothing ontside the boundary of Lawrence county, and I, ob, Kate, I am growing like them. And Bert? He comes home from the field, tired and dusty, and cares for cothing in the world but his pipe and an easy chair. As we mus: rise with the lark there can be no long evenings for reading, or any society, or amuse- ment whatever. Indeed, I think he cares very little about it now. Are all men +o? Do you ever see our old friend Arthur Brown? You know he lives in your city. He is wealthy now, I un@ersiand. men can become Has he forgotten, I wonder, our old romance? How handsome he wns, and +o refined and ele- gant in his tastes. But he waa quick tempered and sensitive; eo was I. That was the cause of—but. pehaw, you remember the story as well | as Tdo. not finished, the pen had fallen and left a great ink spot on the white p Maggie Owen did not see it. With ber on the desk and a brown hand on either side of a tired face, she was looking straight out of the open window. The new moon shone faintly through the maple tree, and the twilight was sweet with the smell of the lilac biossoms. Whatever her thoughts were, they brought tinge of pink to her cheeks and her heart gave a great throb as the gate clicked and she beard her husband's step on the walk. What bad she written and what had she! thought? She did not know where the letter had ended and where the beantifal dream began im whieh che had been living in the wonderful world of wealth and refinement, where she bad books and music and pictures and travel and love, without commonplace, sordid care—with- out ‘sacrifice and self-renunciation—a world which only exists in cur dreams and heaven. She hastily thrust the folded paper in a drawer of the writing desk with that impnise of concealment which originated with poor Mother Eve and has clung to weak humanity ever since. That letter must not go. would destroy it. Bert came swinging up the walk with his hat on the back of his head, whistling a jerky little tune with a reckless disregard of musical laws, but expressing to his own entire satisfaction his overflowing good humor. He came in, his honest face beaming with health and happiness—a plain. hard-working, kind- man. Tomorrow she hearted He ended his tune with a shrill trill in his wife's car. “What's the matter, Megsy,sitting here alone ip the dark?” Ab, Maggie, ro money could buy the tender- Bess expressed in that tone or the wealth of af- fection in your husband's kias. She looked up surprised. | These little atten- tions had not been frequent of late. He had been too busy. “I can guess what you were thinking abou! he continued. “Shall 1 tell it? You were thinking Low bappy we will be when the last cent of the mortgage i# paid off and we own oar little home and everything in it. Wouldn't ¥0U like to look out over that field ard know that we didn’t owe old Moore or any otber man one red cent?” He straightened himself up to bis full height and thrust both hands down to the botrom of his pockets with an independent gesture that bis forefather might have used when he sigued the Declaration of Independ- ence. “I'll tell you, Maggie. this farm is going to be valuable some day. We have worked retty bard for it.” he added, “but it has paid, hasn it? Wecan both take things ensier now.” “But, Bert. the mortgage ber. You talk as if it was pai the money Martin paid you today drop in the bucket.” It was a great effort for Bert to keep his little secret then. His eyes danced and his tell-tale face re- vealed it, but the twilight keeping secrote and conceals many less innocent ‘than Bert's. His fingers ached to pull out the roll of money from the deep pocket and tell her how he had planned : nd saved and that the already, is only a wade oatin Mi ‘s Rag mag oe or Soe uaghed heartily, Maggio wes too proccenpied to notice it. After all the farm seemed to tonight an in- significant object to toil for. Casties in air are mortgage name. Sbe had have that satisfaction. bat Was it only the | trange how quickly some | accustomed to | complaint or an unkind word from her, and how could he suspect that she was not aatie- ' _“T want to seembout some implements and things,” he said, vaguely. “Do you want any- | thing from town?” | « are sume to take in,and you might bring out some sugar and « of cornstarch and—never mind, I must write out a list of what I want or you'll forget half,” she replied. with an uneasy effort at playfulness, | Her husband caught ber hand as she would { have passed him and drew her to him affection- ately. | Poor little hands,” he said, with a loving little squeeze, “they are not as white as they were when you taught school at Oak Hill and boarded at mother's. I'm thankful for that term of school, ain't you? You don’t look well tonight, Maggie,” he added, rather an: , “Does Four head ache? You've been working too hard this spring. I think Tan manage to send you away somewhere this fall. You were speaking of Kate the other day. How would you like to visit her? You could have a Jolly time talking over old times and all that sort of thing.” ‘A great love welled up in her heart for this big, tender man: and her voice sounded dang- | erously like tears ns she answered: “I'm only | tired; I think I will be all right tomorrow.” | She could trust hervelf to say no more. “Well, run along, then. and go to bed early and get a good resi.” eyes followed her as | she left the roo He took the chair she had vacated and looked | ont into the night. It was very dark now, for the moon had disappeared and clouds had gath- | ered and hid the light of the stars. Bert sat there smoking for some time, and | too, were of the future. “Poor girl,” tween the puffe—‘she has had « it. She was never used to work like this; and [ thought when we came west we were doing what | was best for us both. It has been harder for me, too, than she has ever known. But, if things go all right, in another year or two I can make her comfortable, bless her! Well, now for the contract. [wonder if I can find it.” | He struck a match, jerked open the drawers of a writing desk. his big rough hands seramb- ling among the papers. ‘Aba! here it is. He took down his coat from the hook behind the door, put the contract carefully in his in- side pocket and did not notice that another folded paper had slipped in with it. ‘Then he tiptoed softly upstairs that he might not arouse his wife if she had already fallen asleep. But Maggie was restless and sleepless and awoke the next day with a nervous headache, something very unusual for ber. It wi ary morning. rt remarked: do anything if I stayed at home.” so he pulled on his rubber coat and his nch hat and called upstairs, “I'll stop us I go Jones’ and send over the oldest gic! to help Maria today. I'll try to be home for supper. 1 may be late; so don't worry if I'm not here at supper time. Good-bye,” and he was off. ‘The Jones girl eame over and Maggi¢ gave her instructions. She conid hear Maria down stairs joking and giggling with the hired man. ‘She ever afterward disliked that Maria. She felt better in the afternoon. d rose and dressed herself. There was so much then to do | that she forgot the letter and even Bert him Tea time cam the milk put awa} Bert had not come, and still it rained, The early darkness came and Maggie lamp and seated herself todo some sewing. Maria and the Jones giri had gone home and she was alone “The lise branches slapped dismally against the house. She heard the rain as it dashed against the window panes, and occa- sionally the splash, of horses’ struggling hrough the mud and the swish of the water as the wheels sank deep into the ruts of the read. the dishes were washed and were late coming from town as well as She had been thinking all day how lov- ingly she wou im. SI 1d atone for her wickedness—for snch she felt What though no one in the world knew it, she |was horrified to find that such treacherous | thonghts conld have entered her heart. She wondered if Kate had been there whether she would have spoken them. She felt her cheeks grow hot with shame, and she bent lower over her work. though there was no one there to see. She raised her head quickly again, however, for ehe heard another horse splashing through the rain. This time it came faster. dashing recklessly throngh the mud. ‘The wide gate creaked as it was opened to admit the hor-eman. He was riding straight up to the door. It was not Bert, for he had two horses and the covered buggy. What could it mean? Her cheek blanched as she fiew to the door and threw it open. ‘The Jones girl’s father was standing on the | threshold. ‘our daughter—didn’t she get home all right? What is the matter, Mr. Jones?” He shook the water from his dripping hat and coat and stepped inside that she might close the door, into whieb the rain poured. Thero was a silent moment of suspense, as she looked anxiously up in his face. He choked down alump which seemed to | rise in his throat, looking down to avoid her eves at the bat he held awkwardly in his hand. She remembered afterward most distinetly the prints hix muddy feet left on the kitchen floor and the little puddle of water which dripped from his coat—all magnified and seeming near her eyesas one sometimes sees things in a dream My girl's all right. mered. “Mra. Ow 1 —_ «What is it?” she said, in ‘Teli me all you have to worst at once.” me way—I reckon nobody knows how it happened Leastways nobody saw it. Moore, he said, Bert *| ed kind o’ absent minded ‘and looked white like when he went out of his office— hadn't no more than got his = out ‘fore he hat way, and Moore ede! ites that be was feelin’ sick. It was rainin’ mighty hard, too, you know, and that might have deadened the whietle. You see. he was crosein’ the railroad tracks on the road home and—"a pause, ‘be didn't see the train.” In the rough man's eyes shone a world of pity. “They're comin’ back there and they ‘lowed I'd better help you fix things. you know.” ell me,” she begged, piteously, clasping his arm, ‘‘there is hope. “Keep up your courage, my gal. As long there's life there's hope,” he said kindly. ‘They thought he was dead, and after the tiny park of life began to burn there were long days and nights of suspense and almost leas anxiety before Maggie Owen could feql her husband was sj to her. She never knew how she lived through those weeks. The sharpest pang of all came when handed her the package of papers which were found in his pocket. She had fainted then on Mrs. Jones’ capacious bosom. | “Pore thing! she’s plum tuekered out, stand- in’ over him night and day. I never see the best of how much she does think of him.” The poor wife's only prayer was that be ight live to know how much. he leaves were beginning to fall when, weak I pale, he was able to sit again by the win- do |. He had been very quiet that day, as if trying to recall aa almost forgotten circumstance, “Maggie, did they find the deed and—and the | other papers?” in Magic walked over to the door and locked it 7 ¢ took some papers from writing | desk and knelt down by her husband's chair. When she unlocked the door again the oldest | Joues girl saw a tearful but happy face, and on | the window sill a little heap of ‘aches. ——_+e-___ A Paralyzer. . | From the Detrott Free Press. ‘The man had brought in to the editor of the in't her,” be stam- be'n an accident. gal low, hurried tone. I must know the wUch more magnificent structures than humble | room. comes ssid. “By the way I think I'll go in town to- | to him who waits,” he ¥ | thirteen-pound sholl. ‘THE EVENING STAR: THAT RAW RECRUIT. He Continues to Gain More Practical | aecy. Experience in Campaigning. troops CHASING THE REBEL PRICE. emoe Incidents on the March and in Many Skir- mishes—Finally His Artillery Regiment is Ordered to Join Gen. Thomas, and Gets ‘There in Time for the Battle of Franklin. ‘Written for The Evenine Star. HE WAR DEPART- ment did not let us recruits get rasty. In afew days the inspect- ing officers had con- demned « lot of our horses and we drew new ones; the chests were refilled vith ammuni- = tion, new clothes and new shoes were issued and we were soon in as good shapo as ever, probably better, for we recruits had learned how to take care of our- selves, and had shown that we would stand fire. ‘We bad now six guns, two brass twelve-pound smoothbores of the sort called Napoleons, and four three-inch rifled Rodman’s, which threw s In a few days we were started out to keep the rebel cavalry, under Forrest, employed. Again we entered Misnis- sippi, and for a few days were unmolested, but soon the daily skirmishing, which had accom- nied our former trip, begun. On August 8 Fiisd.s very clove shave. ‘We. bad become oo accustomed to the firing in front that we scarcely gave it a thought, and seeing a peach orchard beyond a swainp not far from camp, | myself and another got leave of the captain to for some fruit. We waded through and (ound a tumber off trees loaded with splendid peaches near un abandoned house. Whenever possible we had replaced our heavy woolen uniforms with lighter garments picked up wherever we could find them. ‘The only blue article I had was a blouse, which I spread on the ground and filled with peaches to carry to camp, and I then started to look around for astray chicken or some such thing. The dust was thick in the road and I raw a party of cav- alry coming, but I only gave a casual glance toward them, when I noticed my companion | running. 1 called to ask him where be was going, when the officer jamped his horse over the iow fence, and without looking closely at me rode up to a tree and began to gather | ches, at the same time calling to me: “Go | Toyeur camp at once; the Yankees are thick | around here, ‘ I then saw that he had bars on his collar,and, although badiy frigtitened, I had presence of mind to answer, “Al right, sir," and be can- | tered off, not having seen my blouse nor my |companion. As soon as he tnrned I ran for th swamp, expecting every instant to hear a: order to halt or the whiz of a bullet. I reached camp feeling that I had got off cheaply with the loss of my blouse. ANOTHER CLOSE CALL, | saved me on this occasion nearly led to my isdrawn up with the apart, and-behind each call ““cannoneers to your to their guns, the bi mount,” anda moment. hitch and svon biasing in all. = os a at Tope, Sey eee ET find his own. ‘The guards are divided into three reliefs,who are on duty two hours and off four. In camp our turn came about every Afth dey, and was tle to eat, was far from pleasant, Although we followed Price closely he would not stand. Our cavalry had several slight en- gagements with his rear guard, but they never waited for our infantry to qome up. One aight, after a toileome day, during which we had passed over many hills which had tired our horses, we halted after dark and were told that we worfid march at midnight, leaving behind wagons and baggage,as our cavalry hoped to compel the enemy to delay until our arrival. We pushed ahead as fast as possible. Soon we began to pass groups of infantry who had be- come exhatsted and had kindled little fires by the roadside and resolved to stop until rested. As the night groups became more | numerous and larger, and by morning not more than a third of our infantry was moving, but it was not to be wondered at, as they had been afoot since early the previous day, with only a few hours’ rest, and it must be remembered | that an infantry soldier has to carry his gun, | bayonet, forty rounds and sometimes more of | ammunition, provisions for several days and | be may have. Wo artillerymen had nothing to carty and could ride occasionally and got along better. A SCATTERING FIRE. At the first signs of daylight we heard a scat- tering fire ahead, and we hoped that at last we the fellows who had led us on such a long chase, | but wo were disappointed. ‘Their rear guard had burnt the only bridge across a deep stream and were making a show of fight in order to | prevent our rebuilding it. A battery ahead of | us threw a few shells. Soon a ford was found, land as our infantry croased thev fell back. | There were signs which showed that the skir- mii Several dead horses lay around and a house near by was full (of wounded. We were thoroughly exhansted. ; Many of our horses’ sides were blvody from spurring. and as soon as unharnessed most of m laid down, We were told that we would | coffee and fell asleep, and was awakened at sun- WASHINGTON, D. ¢.- SATURDAY. AUGUST 20. blanket, overcoat and any changes of clothing | | would havea chauce to exchange shots with | A WIDE CONTRAST Between Life in the City and in the Country in Brazil. A VISIT TO BATALHA. Received With the Greatest Cordiality—How Planters and Their Families Pass Their ‘Time—Queer Things to Eat—Windowless Sleeping Rooms—Girls Under Lock and Key. Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. Bom Jxavs pa Lara, Brazit, 1892. O WIDE IS THE contrast between city living and country liv- ingin Brazil that the for- eignerhaving penetrated afew leagues into the interior, can hardly be- lieve himeelf among the same race of people. While many fazenderas of the better class—like the squatters of Aus- tralinand the land own- ers of New Zealand, who were often scions of some of the noblest families in the united kingdom—ere gentlemen of education and refinement, familiar with the best society in their own and other countries,and maintsining comfortable homes on their raral estates, there is more numerous class who live bat adegree better than the pigs they raise; and while the former have risen above the prejudices bequeathed to them by Portuguese ancestors, particularly as re- gards the treatment of women, ‘the wives and daughters of the latter are not much better off than thove of the Turks. But all Brazilians, high or low, are alike in showing unbounded hospitality toward the | eler comes to them without introduction or recommendation of any sort he is welcomed literally ‘with oven arma” and phed with the very best the house affords as long as he can be induced to remain, proving that the host g, “This casa is yours, all in it i Sit ed disposal and I am your servant,” is ly an empty form. AN EXTENSIVE SUGAR ESTATE. We have visited a number of cotton, coffee and sugar fazendas in various parts of the | country, and the aggregate result of our expe- rience among middle-class planters in remote rural districts. may be fairly summed up im an | account of the last visit, from which we just | returned, to an extensive sugar estate, kituated | halfa day's journey (ey carriage) from Bom Jesus and named Batalha, in remembrance of | the grand old abbey in Portugal. After havin, | bumped across the surrounding prairie, wit its innumerable ‘man traps in the shape of ar- | madillo holes and ant hills and deseried dia- | mond washings, our route lay along a road bordered by erange groves, fronted by hedges | overrun by blossoming creepers, interspersed by mango and bread fruit tre the: ‘The next day the butternut shirt which had | march again in two hours. I got a cup of | named trees nre no longer much cultivated in | | Brazil. the use of their fruit having been su- | | troubles being ended by some of. our own men, | down by the bugle calling assembly. It had | perseded by farina, but they are still planted | r Food for our horses was very scatce, und half 2 | mile or more in front of onr camp waa a nai row belt of timber through which ran a creel Just beyond the further edge who were occasionally exchanging shots with the “Johnnies.” One of our lieutenants asked ms to water horse, and I took a path to | avoid the dust in the road. Not far off wasn stubble tield from which the shocks of grain | had been carried off for horse feed. Ni wooda I saw one bundle which lad been over- | looked and I decided to get it. and, there bemg | adesp gully between me und the fi of cavalrymen in the field going in the same direction. and. thinking only of the grain, I be- gan torun. Theard the cry “halt” and the falloping of horses, and looking back to vec ow fast they were gaining I saw one man nn- slinging his carbine, and I stopped. I | wearing a pair of linen trousers that had on: been white, a black hat, through the crown of which my hair showed in several places, and | they had mistaken me for a rebel who had got | inside our lines and was trying to get out, and as Thad almost reachett the woods they were going to shoot me to prevent my escape. The next day we exchanged a few shells with the rebels and on the 12th we approached Ox- ford. Early in the forenoon a much heavier | skirmish than usual began and our entire force | Was arranged for action. Our division of three brigades was drawn up one line a short dJis- | tance behind the other, regimental front, two | deep, but remained behind a hill out of sight of the euemy. Creeping to the brow of the hill we had a good view of the skirmish. In front of us was a level plain, with bushes scattered over it, and strecched flat on the ground a few rods apart and taking advantage of every bush or hollow which offered +helter were the cavalrymen, the puffs of smoke and crack of | carbines showing that there was an enemy in | front, and a wounded man being helped to the | rear proved that it was not a one-sided aff | Somewhere behind and overlooking the line was | an officer with a bugler whose calis controlled |-the movement of the skirmishers. In response to an order for a general advance the enemy | fire became heavier and instead of falling back {as usual it was evident that they were strengthening their front, and our main body of infantry was ordered forward. A BATTERY OPENS FIRE. As our first brigade came in sight a four-gun battery opened fire. The forty-ninth Illinois was the leading regiment. and one of the shells made a gap in the line, while another exploded {at bebind them. The colonel was on ck in the rear of his men, and removing a cigar from his mouth he called, “Steady! ( up! Guide center!” Soon another ep wae again the order, as calmly as though ou parade, “Steady, boys! Close up!” men were getting alittle nervous and the lin was not so straight, but it went steadily for- ward. Very soon we opened fire, and by rare good luck we exploded one of their exissons at e first shot. As our strength developed the rebels fell back, and our cavalry entered Ox- ford. The infantry halted and we remained by our guns. Soon after noon an officer with an escort of cavalry mounted on tired horses ished to the front in search of the command- general. In ap hour our infantry came back and we at once started toward Memphis. We learned that Forrest (whom Lee pronounced the ablest cavalry officer in their service) had left his main force, and with 500 of his best mounted men made a dash on Memphis. Enter- ing the city after dark he had almost captured the commander, and after remaining an bour he went out, having paroled many officers and men whom he had taken prisoner and securing anumber of horses, and so frightened Gen. Washburne that he sent in hot haste to recall us the next day. We traveled fast,and having started out to live on the country and now going over the road on which we had advanced 8 few days before, we had to live on green corn ‘and such stuff, and suffered very much, OVERCOME BY THE HEAT. One day I was overcome by heat and remem- Hospital ia Fort Pickering, Jeet below Menschen h in Fort Pickering, just below Memphis. Here I epent a ciemal ioreo. wosks strength very slowly, and finally the ' surgeon said Thad better rejoin the battery at St. Louis and go toa hospital there. The rebel Gen. Price was then and reported to the captain, who at once ssid I was not fit for duty, but should go to a hospital in At orders # if i ! : i it F z asf i & i . 7 ie i if | 4 Fs [ e f it F i F i s g i Clowe | ax ing | brake annd could ses nothing ahead, | been found impossible to go any further. and | the order to move bad been recalled and da stragglers had been coming up to rejoin their our pickets, | regiments. The rebels made no attempt to | huge, bright green fruit, which i# apparently stand after thi | Weak and | march I suffered greatly. ‘The weather was | cold, the roads bad and the days long and it | was abard trip. Iwill never forget one fea- ear the | tare. Many of the houses we passed bnd great | We found a ty; | open fireplaces, und after dark as we went | plodding along watching the ky ahead for the | the horse and started on foot, I eaw a’ sqnad | the advance waa going into camp we would see | Moors thro | the logs in these fireplaces burning bi | little | htly and iidren looking ont of the windows, and | it would make ue decidedly homesick. | One little incident will show some of the | pleasures of campaigning. We usually laid down to sleep fully dressed, frequently not even removing our boots, as the weather was cold and the ground frozen, and on getting up our toilets were made when yxe put on our hats. I used a saddle for 2 pillow. One hight tome snow fell, but I was too tired to be easily | awakened ‘and unconsciously crept under the | blankets. My hair had not been cut for onthe, | and the uncovered ends were wet with snow jand froze to the saddle, and when the bugle | founded T could not raise my head until cut | loose. | We got this country saved he would never try | to save anotber. When Price finally left Mis- souri we marched back to St. Louis, arriving | toward the end of November. Sherman was on his way through Georgia at the head of 60,000 | men, leaving Thomas to gather up the forces | keattered over n large section of country, with | which to drive back the rebel Gen. Hood, who | had started to invade ‘Tennessee. ORDERED TO JOIN THOMAS. As soon as we could draw necessary supplies | we were ordered to join ‘Thomas, who was fail- | ing back on Nashville. Embarking on steamers | tied two abreast, and preceded and followed by gunboats, we went down the Mississippi to | Cairo, then up the Cumberland to Nashille, | where we arrived at midnight on November 30. | Hood was crowding Thomas closely, and Gen. Schofield, who had charge of the rear. was com- pelled to make a stand at Franklin, twelve miles from the city, to allow his wagon train to escape and rexch the shelter of the forts, as well | as to gain timo until we arrived. This battle of } Franklin took place just before dark the day we o time was lost in _getti | place. As fast as x brigade could be landed it | Mas purhed to the front, and by daylight we | were behind a temporary breastwork two miles jut of the city. We remained here for some days, occasionally sending a few shells toward the enemy, who was in plain sight, throwing up earthworks and evidently intending to stay. | but not replying to our guns, having no powder tospare. Thomas was using every effort to get his army into effective shape.” Some of fhis cavalry had no horses, and there wus some de- lay, and the authorities at Washington were alarmed at the situation. Sherman could not | be heard from and Thomas seemed afraid of Hood, and Grant, after telegraphing Thomas order ‘after order to move, sent Gen. Logan to supersede him, but before Logan's arrival ‘Thomas bad struck Hood a terrible blow. December 12 everything was ready for a move, | but a storm left the ground covered with ice |and sleet and it was almost impossible for a | man or horse to stand and the orders were re- called. On the 14th a thaw set in and left slush ankle deep, and on the morning of the 15th of December @ genetal advance was made by our in ‘THE BATTLE OF NASHVILLE. The wagons and baggage were left in camp ‘and each man was ordered to remain at his | post. A dense fog hung over everything and wecould see but a very short distance: our ogress was slow and the crack of rifles ahead We were at the entrance of cane- but behind, | moving at regimental front, were lines of in- fantry with officers mounted and in place, staff officers galloping about with orders and far in f $ i = Fe' a ei 8 F HAH! : i d T felt as the fellow did who said that if | das soon as night came our forces | us into | | for shade and ornament, as | and to great size. | leaves are muc ey grow rapidly | Their large, bright green dented at the edges, and the | seedloss und has a surface that looks like net-| poorly clad as I had started on this | Work, is by no means to be despised aan ar- | 200g | ticle of food when baked and enten with salt. | Perhaps owing to its pretentious name we | | formed some rather erroneous ideas of Batalha. | ical Brazilian manor house and | 1, as essentially Portuguese in construc- | \d arrangement as if they stood in some | dl tion I tied | reflection of the tires which would show us that | interior valley of Portugal. with traces of the n in—a very large, square mansio: | two stories high, with walls of, plastered brick and overhanging roof of Indian red tiles,thickly | | coated with mold and parasitic plants. It is | surrounded on all sides by a clumsy sort of | | veranda. or, more properly speaking, by sa! | series of deep arched niches built into the walls, | foored with brick and topped by a lean-to roof | of tiles. The tiny, unglazed windows are set) | close up under the eaves, as if the architect | | Were as averse to fresh air as Noah must have | been when he built the ark, and only the upper | | rooms are inhabited—that is, by humans. the | ground floor is ly used for stabling and | | storage, but most of it—windowless, doorless | | and deserted—is given over to stray pigs, sheep | and fowls, toads, centipedes, takes and, other wandering abominations. The great bare unventilated rooms of the upper | more than sufficient the needs of the family; yet the “guest hamber,” to which I was conducted with » figurative flourish of trumpets, had all its cor- ners oceupied by sundry piles of pack eaddies, | | panniers of dried beef, odoriferous casks of cod- fish, kits of mackerel and goodness knows what, and was as innocent of any sort of window or | other aperture leading to outside air as of the | ordinary toilet articles that most people con- | sider indispensable. Windowiess sleeping apart- | ments are common throughout Brazil, even in | somo of the grandest but older palaces of Rio— owing, probably, to the Portuguese idea that | night air is unwholesome. As in most country | houses, the partitions at Batalba are carried | only abont half way to the roof. so that tho rooms withont windows receive a modicum of | light and air from the general supply of the | house, so to speak, and whatever may be goi on in one apartment is ‘distinctly audible im all the others, SLERPING IN HAMMOCKS. We arrived so late in the evening that there was time for nothing but enthusiastic greetings before being shown to bed, or rather to ham. mock, for in this hot country bug-barboring couches and mattresses are not much in favor. Too much cannot be said in favor cf the bam. mock in such a climate as this, being not only | | cooler and safer, but a much more tidy article | of farniture than a bed, for these can be washed as easily asa sheet. The commoner varieties of snow white cotton, woven at home and quite durable, cost $5 or $6: others are striped or plaided with biue or red, with crochet work, and sell from 10 to €20; and there are others, large, square, home woven of strong linen, with « half-y&rd-wide border of hand-made lace, which are cheap at $50. They ime and no bed covering is necessary, wid quain: well-disciplined Brazilian families for all ite members to bid each other good ight a toon as the lamps are lit, as a reminder that evening hascome. They may be sitting at dinner or entertaining visitors, but everybody pauses in the midst of conversation to exchange this eal- utation, and the children rise and kiss the hands of their parents, eaying a bencao men pa “your blessing, father” —as in patriarchal days. ALL ASTIR AT SUNRISE. He i il i é t i f i i H i af F if Bi : i i Hf ; i ite te ie i f i | through stranger within their gates, and though a trav- | | to be bi ap batetetl ate 1892-SIXTEEN? PAGES. children return to if there is any in the ct ‘school, - any sessions area até ii g3s ay Hl H é FE ae = as E . 5 by bit, and rolls it in the central dish of sauce. For the stewed meat, be scoops out a lump of rao, the size of a hen’s egg, with the ends of is fingers, puts it in the palm of his hand with achunk of meat fished out of its broth, and with the fingers of the eame band, working with « motior known only to Brazilians, incorporates both into an elongated boius, which he conveys to his mouth and swallows in a way which, say the least of it, is astonishing to those who witness it for the first time. }, if there is any, consists of bananas pment lard or acurd oe guava jelly, preserved potato or some other “dulce.” "After which black coffee and cigar- ettes are handed around anc small glasses of rum and water. Before rising from the table each fills bis mouth with water and after going arious suggestive contortions of cheeks and lips, squirt it brosdeast over the jor. : THE PERIOD OF REPOSF. Then comes a siesta, or period of repose. Between 6 and 7 o'clock the ladies go out to! | pay visits, if the neighbors are near enough, and the husband goes for another promenade or game of cards or gentle gossip, and later everybody walks in the plaza, if there is one, till late at night. In some families a third meai is werved, between 8 and ¥ o'clock, but in raval districterthat is the exception rather than the rule. The negroes who swarm about the estate— ex-slaves, now hired at a small rate of compe: sation for working days, or given their “keep d_scanty clothes in return—live chiefly on milho (Indian corn), prepared in various w: ‘They are excessively fond of it in the form of ipokas, and this isthe way to make it: Par- tially fill a clay pot with sand and heat it very hot. Then throw shelled corn into the hented sand and stir it around with along stick ‘antil the grains swell and burst the skin, becoming what we call “popped” corn. The grains arc | eaten with raw cocoanut, bananas, fariuha or | onions, In this conntry, when vou desire to remind a meddlesome person that he would request him to Vai plantas pipokas—‘go plant Tossted milho. Mr. Bigg-Wither. an English engineer who | was employed some years in railroad surveving | in zil, tells some interesting experiences the landed proprietors in his interesting book. Being a man he had a better oppor- tunity than I to kuow how women deport themselves in the presence of the other sex. GIRLS UNDER LOCK AND KEY. Let me quote a few parngraphs pertaining to a visit he made in the valley of Ivaby. “Senor Andeade was.an old man and allowed his wife to do most of the talking for him when she was in the room. One of her first questions was to know whether I was married, and on hearing that I am still in the full enjoyment of freedom, she proceeded to enlarge upon the delights of married life, at the same time informing me that she had five unmarried daughters. After this pretty broad hint of what was expected, of course, expressed a wish to make the ac- maintance of these fair members of the family. jer face became suddenly grave, she looked hesitatingly at her husband, who had remained silently puffing his cigarette during the conver- sation, and he said something which I did not understand, but which at once dispelled her momentary gravity. |The old man got up. went across to a locked door, turned the key, opened it and di into a dark chamber within. Almost immedi- ately he returned, saying. ‘The girls are not accustomed to sce strangers and are afraid.’ Meanwhile the senhora, who was evidently now determined that ber dangh- ters should show themselves, had also appeared into the secret chamber, from which now proceeded sounds of whispering and sup- Pressed giggling. Presently the sonhora re- appeared leading s very modest-looking dam- sel of about nineteen years, closely followgd by three others, apparently somewhat younge were overwhelmed with intense shyness and a hysterical desire to laugh. After the formal and separate introduction of each, be it noted that the lady is here introduced to the gentle- man, they all scampered back into the secret chamber and their Pepa tured the kes upon them. At this time tom which is so general in these out-of-the-w parts of keeping the women, or rather the daughters of the family. locked up like wild | beasts, consequently I did not hesitate to e: prees my wonder and to ask why it was done in ‘this case. In reply Senor Andrade said that it was the custom of the country and he had never thought of bringing up his aughters in any other wi “Do the ever go ont? I asked. he replied, ‘not now that ther are grown. They had all learned horseback riding when children, but since then they had been shut up in the house, according to the custom for respectable girls, where they must remain until husbands can be obtained for them.’ Poor things. It is few old maids among Faxsre B. Warp. ——_—+e-—____ Moss-Covored Trees. From the St. Louis Glote-Democrat. “Few things possess greater interest to north- 0, never, lowlands near the gulf coast,” said H. C. Henry at the Laclede. “In the moist, warm air of the coast country the moss takes possession of the trees, and from every branch trails down the linea mighty banner of green silk, giving to the forests a picturesque beauty, but one sug- gestive of cemeteries and In the : rE was ignorant of the cus- | A CHINESE JOSS, And the Presoription That He Gave ” for Rheumatism, THE DISEASE NOT CURED. A Star Man's Experience Among the Celes- tial Jose Houses in San Francisco—Whst the Ingredients Were, as Translated by a Reliable Interpreter. —_——o—— LOPATHS, HOMEO- paths, Christian science, &c. Probably every reader of Tus Stam hos | had more or less deal- | ings with some order of doctors. Your ideas of medicine may run to or holding hands, but when you get sick you take something. Few of you, though, have | been prescribed for by the gods ora god. ‘There is sman in Tur Stax office who has been so fortunate as | tohave his ailments looked into by a god, ‘and avery ugly and beathenish-looking god it was, too. The man was not cured by the god, but that does not do away with | the fact in any way or with the honor which goes with it, The god which did the pre-| scribing for this man did not sit in a room with a formidable-looking look and surgical case and a sign reading, “Office prescriptions | cash,” either, but occupied an apartment all | filled with gaudy gilt work and funny little | vessels in which burned aromatic punk. He | was a Chinese joss and his name was — but what matter his name? You could not pro- | nounce it if you heard it. A FRIEND AND THE RIEUMATISN. Tt happened in this way. The man was walk- | | ing around San Francisco with a friend and the | rheumatism, The friend walked by his side and | the rhenmatism waiked all over him, paying es- | pecial attention to his ankles and causing him to walk in a manner as lithe and active asa mule | with the blind staggers. The man, the rh | mati«m and the friend finally found themselves | |in Chinatown, which occupies quite a slice | of San Francisco, and just as the man was jtrring to figure out whether he would | rather be an American with the rheamatiam or a Chinaman and eat unsavory-looking messes with chopsticks and play poker with a tenth of a cent ante the procession | paused. ‘The friend of the man was a lawyer | and be inad collided with one of his old clients, a prosperous-looking Chinese merchant, who presented the man with a cheerful emile and a cigar. The smile has gone the wave of all | earthly things, but the man still has the cigar. | Whenever he wants to stop smoking for a week | he looks at that cigar and the deed is done. The hospitality of the Chinese gentleman did | not stop at the cigar, and he took us to see one of the big joss houses, containing four or five es- pecially ugly looking gods with the wall covered orer with hieroglyphics, said to be the names of the subscribers to that particular joss muse. H IX A 3088 HOUSE. | ‘The Chinamen around the room did not seem | enpectaity overburdened by awe at their sur- roundings and very cheerfully drank tea and blew smoke into the faces of their omnipotent gods. The manand his friend blew smoke, | too, and bought, according to the custom, some little bundles of punk, with which the true be- hever propitiates the gods. If the man’s friend had not spoken at this int, the man would never have been prescribed for by a god with a snub nose and flowing whiskers, but be did speak. He said to his Chinese ‘client: “My friend here has rheumatism. Now, which god is | the surest death on rheumatism, lL | us, and we will burn these pe sticks before him, and lo, my friend will cured.” The Chinaman consulted first with bimeelf and then with the keeper of the bouse. | Finally. with a wave of his hand, which in- cluded the entire collection of gods, be said im- ressively: ““Goddeys no goodee lumatlism, ivee lumatlism uy . commee me.” and the man and his friend “commeed.” went around a back street and up three fii of stairs, into a room so smail that it would seem | iy i for a catto be swung, let alone a TRE J088 OF RHEUMATIEM. There was a joss here, however, a black joss with reddish whiskers and a sardonic «mile. There was an attendant also and the attendant \,could only talk Chinese. He could talk this, ‘though, at a good, stendy trot. He smiled | cheerfully and gave ‘the man and his friend | some tea. The guide then explained the ob- ject of the visit in excellent ese. At ang Tate the man takes it for granted that it was excellent - Chinese. The attendant fol- | lowed in a five-minute speech in the same | language and then the guide smiled and nodded | cheerfully, as much as to say: “We are all) right. We have struck the especial deity that | can knock rheumatism higher than a kite.” The attendant then knelt before the joss and prayed. | He “en pele acre and occasionally ra) | bis against the floor, which must have | been painful. His interview, however. seemed to have been satisfactory, for be went behind the joss and pulled out broad drawer, on which was spreads thin layer of white sand. In his hands ho held the hanes of a wooden ment, whic! in @ peg resting on the | sand. A rapt look came over his face and the | peg began to move, describing courses aud lines | all over the white surface. 5 THE UNINTELLIGIBLE PRESCRIPTION. ‘The Chinese gentleman who had brought the party in emiled more cheerfully than ever and | explained, ““Goddee lite.” After the god had | written all over the sand the attendant who had kindly held the pen got out his own writing materials and wrote two wash bills; at least that is what they looked to the man who bad never seen any other class of Chinese literature. H He Fld ‘TRE TRANSLATION. The next day the man's friend had the Chi- nese inscriptions translated by a Chinese gentie- ‘man on whom he could rely. The man's friend Dig doses, little doses | Modified ure Herbage of the Great African Desert tn Spring Time. ‘From the Fortnightly Review. In the spring of the year when rain hss fallen for two months the Karoo isa flower garden. As far as the eye can reach stretch blotches of white ahd yellow and pink fig flowers, Every foot of Kuroo snd is broken up by small flow- ering lilies and wax flowers. In a «pace a few feet square you may sometimes gather fifty kinds. In the crevices of the rocks little. hard- leaved ‘flowering air plants are growing. At the end of two months the bloom is over, the Dalbe have died beck into the ground by mul- ions, the fig blossoms are withered. the Karoo easames the red and brown tints which it wears all the rost of the year. Sometimes there is no At intervals of a few years great its Occur, when no rain falla, For ten or thirteen months the «ky is clond- less. The Karoo bushes drop their leaves and are dry, withered stalks, the fountains fail and the dams are floored with dry, baked mud, which splite Up intonitele squares, the sheep and goats die by thousands and the Karoo wa di ert. Itisto wide for these long rainless periods that ali the plant life in the Knroo is |. Nothing that cannot retain life hab- itually for six months. and at need for twice that time, without rain, can exist bere. The Karoo bush itself provides against drought by roots of enormons length, stretch- ing underground toa depth of many feet. At theend ofaten months’ drought, when the earth is burnt brick dust for two feet from the surface, if you break the dried «talk of a Karoo bush three inches high, you will find running down the center a tiny thread of pale, green- tinted tissue still alive with sap. +e- ~ Cowboys Educated Him, of cowbers some years ago that I did not even a little dit.” said Alfred M. Dirkes. “T had just left college, my health was bad and I concluded to §° out west and rough it fora few mor I engaged to help drive = herd of cattle from northern Texas into Kansas, and made the ‘Usual mistake of enppowi that Iwas the only man in the party who knew a srllogi«m from = Pronoun. For three successive even- T aired my college learning, while my com- panions ant in acircle around me and chewed tongh and smoked plug tobseco. Then they concluded that they had had about enough of Aristophanes, Pythagoras and the philosophy of the peripatetics, and ther proceeded to wind ‘me up. e Next morning the boss gave me my orders im Greek, the cook acked me in choice Latin whether I would take ‘sap’ or esrap on my elapjacks, and a neher with abigrevolver sticking out of his boo eought me in choice Persian to reser: dergarten learning for the babes of « One had been a professor in Yale and tbe c were Oxonians. I have not since 7 dazzle the imple children of the frontier with display of my learning. ——— Capable of a Fellow Feeling. From the Pittstare Chronicle Bugsby—“Jones, my dear fellow, T have de- termined to marry and [have picked out the girl.” Jones—“Why, I am astonished. I thought You said you wonld never marry because women never appreciate what it is to lose buttons off y—“That is true, but this girl wears suspenders.” eacionaceienchintiateiceitioncin A STUDY OF FACIAL EXPRESSION AT THE “PHONE.” Mr. Jones is Called to the Telephone by His Wife. From Juage. Voice ‘Mr. Jones?