Evening Star Newspaper, March 3, 1894, Page 14

14 FIVE BALL PLAYS “Tim” Murnane on Some Remark- | able Feats. ACHIEVEMENTS ON THE DIAMOND ieee Pick-Ups and Throws That Saved Games. AS QUICK AS THOUGHT After witnessing performances by all the grand masters of the American national game since the days of the famous Cincin- nati Red Stockings, in 1869, to the present time, I find that it is no easy matter to Pick out the most brilliant plays I have ever seen, says “Tim” Murnane in an arti- ele In Donahoe’s Magazine for June. As I Mop to think one phenomenal play follows another before my mind's eye like evening shadows up a mountain side. ‘The running catch. ‘The lightning throw. The beautiful one-hand pick-up of a fast | ‘and ugly grounder. | ‘The desperate slide. The timely hit. What a subject to carry an old player back to exciting times! I have seen plays made at critical times, where 20,000 enthu- siastic people cheered the player as earnest- ly as if he had saved his nation’s flag. I shali not write of the plays made before the largest crowds or of those that were the most liberally applauded. In describing the tive most brilliant plays T have ever seen my experience as a player will have much to do with my judgment. Work that might seem phenomenal to the spectator who has never played the game would often be considered weak form from & professional standpoirt. In the plays that I have selected brain, hand and heart work- ed together on the impulse, accomplishing that which, by losing a fractional part of a second, would have failed. Can you imagine a man flying? If not, it Will be a difficult matter for me to describe the play made by Herman Long of the Bos- ton club at Philadelphia in the summer of | 1svz. The championship season was about two-thirds over and the Quakers were grad- ually crawling up on the Boston leaders. Harry Wright's boys had taken two games from the champions before tremendous ¢rowds of people, and the third and last game of the series found the Bostons de-| termined to make the fight of their lives. ‘lying Play at Phila- ia im 1892. Herman Long was the hero of the Boston victory; his battirg was terrific and his fielding grand. While both teams were fight- ing for the lead, he made a phenomenal play that turned the tables in favor of Boston. The ball was hit hard and went sailing out toward center field. A volley of cheers fol- lowed the drive and doubled in volume when Long was seen to make what the players cali a “Dunlap” or grand-stand catch. In this instance it was the only way the play could have been accomplished. The ball was taken with the right hand over the left shoulder, while in the air, after a sharp run and flying leap, where his heels went nearly as high as his head. Mr. Long {a etl member of the champion Boston team, and the most brilliant ball »layer on the field at the present time. Cal. MeVey’s Throw at Brooklyn in AIsTo. the oid Boston and Chicago , Was one of the most power- | ers I ever saw. In 1870 he was a of the famous Cincinnati Red who were then well into their Son without meeting a single de- Their first defeat at the Capito- Brooklyn, before 20,000 peo- In this game MecVe: ade a wonder- feat. line grounds, ple. ful throw ning run for the A’ by Allison at the hom The ninth @ach: ti 1 five runs | the ten : : Cincinnati > runs in the eleventh and felt sure With two men on reliable spectators at right fietd, ed in on the fielt pathy with the Broc had a hard ume get ed his way cle &s Start had He push- | at struggle, just base and was | turn . with the headed for home, crowd cheering | Bim MeVey's | i and the ball | Sa bullet into the catch- | it was d plate wit of breath inning | With . the immense crowd instant, and Joe was heisted upon ulders of several and carried in this her to the club house. | The joy of the crowd was in great cc with the di Cincinnati b had met wit sons. Capt @d. and his . or crushed 4 MeVey went to Califorr and was in business the last I heard of him. Morrilt's St I made a remarks ston team fr ple play a Pittsburg © out; i it went with the with his it to th throw «rass, and when he r 1 ball n with and yas Morrill xt man v with the score still @ tie and the game wus called. \ | Brookiyn. | A$ much as $50 a week criminals THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MARCH 3, The Boston and Cincinnati teams were playing a close and brilliant game at Cin- cinnati in "92, when Capt. Comiskey made a play that saved the game, at the time, for his team. Hugh Duffy was at third in the last half of the ninth inning, with the score a tie. There was one man out and a good, sure hitter at the bat. The ball was hit well to the right of Comiskey, who was playing first base. He took the ball with his right hand, after a jump, and before getting his feet on the ground had sent it to the home plate in time to catch the fleet- footed Boston man. The ball was handled with two motions, which necessitated great playing to execute. It was the proper time to take a chance, and the great Cincinnati captain was equal to the emergency. Paul Hines’ Tri e¢ Play at Providence in IN7S. Paul Hines ts the only man who ever made a triple play single handed. The his- tory of the game will show less than half a dozen triple plays, and tne chances of ever seeing another single-handed one are very slight indeed. It was in ‘7s that Hines elec- trified the base ball world by making a tri- ple play that saved the game for his team and put him a niche higher than any other base ball playet. The games of that season between Boston and Providence were con- tested with a spirit of rivairy worthy of the diamond battles of Harva and Yale. Large delegations went with the teams from one city to the other to cheer on their favorites and make life miserable for their opponents. The game was drawing to a close, with the score small and Providence one run in the lead. The Boston men, under the leader- ship of Capt. George Wright, the most fa- mous plaver in America from ‘69 to the time I write of, made a grand spurt. getting men on third and second bases, with three men to dispose of. One run would tie, and in all probability two runs would give the game to Boston, and that, too, on the Prov- idence ground, before a crowd of 6,000 peo- ple. Hines was playing a rather deep center field and was watching the batsman close- ly. The ball was hit hard and passed about three feet high over second base. Hines made a long, desperate run, knowing that it meant the loss of the game if he failed. It looked like an utter impossibility to make the catch. The men on bases had started for home, and the Boston sympathizers sent up a wild yell; but it was cut short as Hines reached the ball, getting it about two inches from the ground, and held it, the momen- tum carrying him twenty-five yards before he regained control of himself. Both men had crossed the home plate, and seeing there was no use in trying to get back, stood bewildered, as Hines jogged over to third base, putting three men out, as the runners were forced to come back and touch the bases in regular order after a fly ball had been caught. This play saved the game for Providence, and Hines was talked about as no player ever was before. ———_ -see« —— A LOST PEOPLE. a ‘The Relics of a Lost Race Discovered on the Coast of Urittany. From Goldthwaite's Geographical Mazazine. A lady whose home is in the south of France writes of a visit she made recently to an island on the coast of Brittyny. Those of you who have read the story of King Arthur and his knights will remember that they started out over the sea in p suit of the dragon. In this—the Mo-bil sea—ts a little island which can be reached from the mainland only when the water is smooth. The sole inhabitant is a Hreton shepherd, who lives in a little hut and spends his time in caring for his sheep. The party landed and were met oy the kind-faced old man, who led them cver the grassy slope where his flock w. end showed them the way azound on the east side of which they found the entrance to a tunnnel. This extended some distance, and its floor, sides and roof were made of imurens flat pieces of stone, covered with hiere giyphs and figures “iooking somew i wreaths, and again like coiled s At the end of this tunnel was a hall, also floored, roofed and walled with the same curious stones, and in the center v altar and a stone upon which it is the that human sacrifices have been otfe The strangest part of all is that no stone or roc*s like those used in this tunnel can be found on the island, and at n> place nearer than 100 miles inland. Who b-ougnt them? How did they come? There is no record left—at least none has been tound, to tell who these people were, or anything about them. They must have lived many centuries but have vanished entirely, t their is as pe-fect apparently as when It is thought that they may ha seen Druids. who came here when they left Great Britain; others, again,think that they were worshipers of the serpent god called Hoa. But it is conjecture. All we know is that the stones are ere, & neely carved, skillfully put together, but of their builders there is no trace. see LIVES OF FREAKS. Et They Are AN Well Prid, bat They Do ot Last Long. From Lippineott’s Magazine. The physical lives of most freaks, their professional careers, are short. fat people usually die of apoplex a good thing, too, for many of them s more than the public imagines. The giants like and dwarfs gene-aily live longer than their | fellow-curiosities; but, no matter how good they may be in their line, they become worse than useless as soon as they can no longer make themselves attractive in ap- pearance. Only the other day I came across one of the most noted professional day—second only to the in stature—limping along 6th ween the boards of a sandwich adv. mt of 2 cheap restaurant. 1t is only ths me of the leading fat men the fell ill and lost his flesh. a re- is now driving an ice wagon in When on the road he received . again, one who some few years hack Was accounted the most noted lon: a woman in the country is now working for $10 a week addressing wrappers in a mail-| ing agency on the W Side. soo An Original Name. Boston Home Jeurnal. There is a man in W: 1gton who has a most uncommon rame. His mother was on out for something original, and one re his christentng, @ noticed on of a building the word “Nosm truck her fancy. ‘ for a millle Later, coming along by ti building, she saw on the door the * Frem thy the d This name. King.” Ah, this was what she was after! ‘Nosmo King Jones he shall be,” she said, and he was chrt «dso. On the way | home from church after the christoning she | passed the s iding again. ‘The doors and behold! the d 1 se ‘The Fret Louis B neh me slway even if I am a Spania: of killing capital been revoltiag to me, i,” said R. Gomez at "t Uke the . Of course me time ¢ ak It is not part: there is no blood If there is let it be done hands of a sure i job of Thin machinery! The Chine. exe > a cuttin’ in th about their r the plan wt The F nch im their tamous cruelty cee Never in Trade Don't reat-eraad- girls y in t “Didn't ¢ years died at worth 35,000,000."" in- | 1894—TWENTY PAGES. land _ blossomed with hot rolls. I arrived in the celestial regions on an empty stomach and can testify to the excellence of the menu. ©odfish was not served as brook trout today and Oregon salmon to- morrow, and roosters did not have to do — as prairie hens and grouse on alternate ys. COL. JIM STRUTHERS Why That Gentleman is Not Quite Sure of His Identity. A TALE OF METEMPSYCHOSIS A Reincarnation. “Well,” went on the colonel, “I got tired at last of this sort of thing and concluded to go down to Samos and get my body. Arriving there I found that Juno had been bought for the New York Academy of Arts and that my apparently lifeless body had been carried down to the morgue at the sixth precinct station and, being uniden- tified, was buried in potter's field. Thither my spirit flew. A hole had been knocked in the head of my box, Jansen had put a noose around me and drawn me up and had turned me over to the janitor of a med- ical college. Then the demonstrator had opened my jugular and pumped my heart and arteries full of plaster of Paris and chemicals. When I reached the college they were experimenting with me, and had So scarred me that I could scarcely recog- nize myself. In the street below sgfuneral was passing. Bells tolled woe, breezes sigh- ed in pity and flowers drooped in grief. I followed. At the grave the cortege paused. The lid of the casket was raised and the face of a lovely girl lay exposed to the sor- rowing multitude. My spirit, weary of wing, and robbed of its own body, crept into that of the dead girl. The flush of life returned; the eyes of cyanite reoped; :he mourners turned pale, and hysterics reigned. I rode home in the same hack with my pall-bear- ers and wore a white rose that had done duty in the broken shaft in my hair. “The pall-bearers were nice young men and had evidently been on good terms with the girl. It was her body, but it was my soul. Everybody thought me wondrously changed, but attributed it to my horribly narrow escape from live burial. I was per- mitted to read my own death notice in The Star, appended to which was a poem, al- leged to have been written by my parents, but which was really cribbed from an anon- ymous author who had been afraid to sign it. I shook hands with my undertaker and took several baths to free myself from the perfume of alcohol and embalming fluids. I congratulated the family minister on the eloquent manner in which ne had exaggerated my virtues, and I got space rates for a special story in a medical paper on ‘How It Feels to Die.” I had a good deal of trouble in my new surroundings. I could not walk comfortably in dresses and would tear the lace off my train at every stride, but when I was not In my dresses I used to blush, but could never de- cide whether it was the girl or me who blushed. It got so finally that I did ot even Gare to go in swimming with myself. I would have released myself from my trou- bles, but I had left the flask of immortality bitters in my apartments at Samos and 1 could not undo myself. Eventually I grew so weary of being flirted with at the cor- ners of {th and the avenue and I1th and F streets that I decided to go back tO Samos and get a drink. Meeting With Struthers, “On the steamer there was a rich cattle- man from Montana named Struthers. He fell in love with me at first sight. I was very beautiful. I did not use a portable complexion; did not bite my nails with por- celain teeth; did not depend on the uphol- A Weird Story Told by Montana Jim in a Hotel Parlor. ADVENTURES OF A SPORT It was a parlor scene at the National Hotel. It was as bright as wit. All sorts of people, from the good to the very good, were there. Sitting on the heater, with a gaze which seemed to be looking down the vista of the past, and to be peeping behind the curtain of the future, was Col. Jim Struthers, alias “Montana Jimmy.” “Hello, colonel,” said The Star man, slapping him on the back with a dull thud that almost made him turn his ribs over on the other side, “I thought you were averse to the society of ladies, and here you are in their midst?” “My boy,” said the colonel, gravely, with a face as sober as a temperance pledge, “I | Was a lady once myself.” It was clear that Jim was about to per- | petrate another of his experiences, and peo- |ple shifted their positions, the better to ‘hear what he was about to say. After the usual preface of throat-clearing and brow-knitting which yarners affect he sai | “Yes, my boy, IT was a lady once my-'| self. The rough figure which stands before , You now is not the original Jim Struthers. ‘The body in which I am temporarily rigged out is nét the one which I inherited at my birth. When I was a young man I lived in | the lap of luxury, ate from a souvenir spoon and used sweet soap, tooth powder and cologne. But I longed for bigger things than tugging at the heart strings of girls. I built ambitious castles on foundations of hope. I wanted to write my autograph in big caps on the front page of the world’s | history. I chose to be a sailor. My spirits ebbed and flowed with the tides, and my heart beat in unison with the throbs of | Neptune’s pulse. I went down to the sea in a ship. We were off the coast of Samos, and I was thinking of all the ancient his- tery which had been made around those shores. It was evening. The day had plant- ed golden crowns on the brows of the west- ward hills; had gilded the spires of the town with a soft and tender glow and had cast back to Samos parting glances of mel- low, loving light. “A storm was brewing. I could not/sterer for my resemblance to Venus; did grease the water into calmness. The storm | not twist my Psyche knot with a growth of broke. The wind would have blown the : : : breath out of a Dakota blizzard and lifted | S°™ebody else's hair, and did not tomahawk the roof off a cyclone cellar. The lightning blazed to the right, and to the left, and the |artillerists of the skies had planted batter- ies in every cloud. The storm was an elec- trie shock. My craft was rocked in the cradle of the deep, and I was a castaway. I was broke. and as all my valuables were pagne suppers. I rendered myself even more beautiful than I was by appeariag not to know it. Mr. Struthe his Helene in the most sweet-scented, sugar-coated way, tell me of his palace by : Lake of Como, of how the bi ld in the hotel safe and it was after banking | the c . ; | hours, 1 concluded to take lodging on the} 8¥llable my name and the horse tanks beach. I was in the act of doing this when | Should gush forth in the midst of roses. I a Samos copper pinched me as a Vag. The | took it all in, of course. At last the nuptial y came. Well, I was the gerl derndest feeling bride that was ever roped into the failure of marriage or lashed with the hy- meneal hawsaw. “Well, soon after our honeymoon waned, and it was the most rip-roaring ho: that any parson ever turned loose, or any clerk of the court ever ensed, we set- tled in a beautiful vilia on the palis James Creek canal. Naturally, Mr. § ers died. As I looked into the my late lamented husband a concluding to isake his funeral one of the handsomest social events which the regular funeral patrons of this city had ever seen, an inspiration came to m From it Vv: nt law in Samus is more regularly enforced than it is in the hotel corridors of Washington. I registered a fictitious name on the station blotter, and as I could not leave collateral I was jugged in the cala- boose. In an Ancient Temple. “The jail at which I was residing had seen better days. It had once been a temple of Juno. In one corner of my apartment was a life-size statue of that gallery goddess. Time had dealt well with her, and if some of her anatomy, as is the fashion with old statues, had not been broken off, she would have been as well dressed for bathing purpose. and nostrils were full of cobwebs, ntiy she had not engaged in con- Juno always was very tired, as} Her and evi versation for a long time. a peculiar woman. 1 much so as if I had listened to a defense | of the last Hawafian policy, and I lay mej just as my dear sou! was departing this down to sleep on the hard stone floor of | iife, 1 plunged a razor into my pretty, ro: my cell. ‘There were no springs under the! bosom and once more came into flesh, as s, ane ave Spent many a more reposeful ight down 6c ca we yard!’ | James Struthers. The body in which I had 1 blew out the gas, and atter saying my | lived as Helene was discovered with its prayers I slept. Of course I had some/ ghastly scar, and I was arrested on the dreams. One long, green fellow, with on his back, had coiled around me just about to sting me, when 1 ay My eye rested on the ghostly out- lines of the statue in the corner. 1 thought 1 noticed something wrong about it, but attributed the circumstance to my impaired asked to be forgiven for my rashness, sprinkled it with some tears from the wash pitcher and laid it en my dressing case. Then I swallowed the peculiar potion, jas Lady Lodovic when she rode througii) “I would be Jim, a ud cease to be Helene. | coventry town. There were some withered! Three fingers of Juno's liquor w do the |poppies and peacock feathers at her feet. | job. I wrote a note of farewell to the world, | i wife. The note, which was signi and ying “farewell forever,” to be written in my hand, and I got into a devil of a scrape. I tried to explain by making a full confession, but the judge said a Helene, was proved vision and the excitement through waich 1| !t was too thin, and ihe district attor had pass ‘the statue seemed to be point- | Toasted aoa, cove m. ny confession ing its broken a time. 1 raised on one _— oubts aa to whether my brain » elbow and held my breath to listen. 1| Jangl a out of tune, and I was adjudged would have yelied police! bat tor the bad | Insune by a boar: a. After vari- effect it has on men to be rudely ieenon, one Soe ent oom anaged to get out and my shriek fell short. ‘Ine other arm | and slipped the —— Mme is one of was liited now, and te two seemed to be bn oo tor strapeu ation that T doing rome Delsarte business, : : paves) 2 Siways “recoinmend 2¢ (to omy e lines of Galatea began to rush | frien 2 2 heen my dizzy brain. ‘The marole pallor of | rm By id Soon tla oe Sal as utterly the statue was giving place to fresh, warm, Liane ah poe fake de idles the dimple rose unt. ‘The duil eyes began to grow | 1 her chin was gasping on the sofa, and brilliant, and by their radiant luster al}| te 8 distorts her face every time ‘y she eats an olive, and then takes the stones be plainly. seen. Another _ fiesh-colored | a aap eps te the Rome ain |tigure was perched just over Juno. She/ the'terns slunk away from slokt aye ice paintings turned their faces to the wall, 4 a small rainbow in her hands, and | : - 1 knew it must be Iris. Hallehuja! what/ Col Struthers leaned against the heater, and The Star man, in rushing from. the things in the dim and darksome cell could |had 1 struck? and ministers of | grace defend us,’ ted. Juno turned room, overheard him murmuring to himself, | her head and rested her gaze, half-sympa-| "yes" yes, I was a lady onee iysel thetic, haif-imperious, on ee Her lips pri 5 moved. At first her vocal cords were wo cE wimg much tangled for utterance, and when her ON THE CARDS, voi did come forth, it had a mildewed ring and several cracks in it| which made me think that were she to appiy that voice to Italian opera the harmony would be com- te. Juno did not chide me. As a anger, she bade me welcome. Being without my note-book, 1 did not take down her remarks, and besides she wasn't talking | for publication, as she is too well known | to need this kind of advertising. We talke of various matte! 1 found that the god- $ was pretty well up on Washington y. I would tell you what she said, but 1 don’t like to repeat uncomplimentary remarks about people. Juno said she hoped I would forgive her toilet, but that it really wasn’t her fault, as Phidias wasn't a first- class dressmaker. I told her that I didn’t | mind a little thing like that, as I had been to full-dress entertainments before and had spent a season at the seashore. Then she | blushed a few times and said, ‘Jim, old sport, you're a brick, and I'd be the hap- piest girl in Samos if I only had my left arm, right ear, nose and big toe hack.’ | We got on very friendly terms and began | to discuss ways and means for my escape. “Then, as if a great thought had hit he she called out to pretty little Iris: ‘I say, ‘Ris, bring out that demijohn of the elixir lot immortality which Unele Jupiter sent His Knowledge of the Game Was Too Limited for Mis Friend. From the Buffalo Express, Two young feilows walked up Main street last Saturday night. They had been talking about skill at games of cards. One of them allowed that he could pi game of which the late Mr. Hoyle was cognizant. The other was equally sure of his mastery of the pasteboards. “I will play you any game you choose for money, marbles or chalk,’ id the tall one. said the short “L'il just call that bluff, one. “What'll we play?” asked the tall one. “Well, of pedro. we'll go up here and play a game 0, I ain't very good at pedro.” mi vet's have a game of casino, then.” “I never did like that game.” I'll play you poker.” “That's a game I never play. “Pinochle?” ‘The counting is too much bother,” ‘CribLage?” “Don’t know that game.” “Hearts?” in last night and chuck a flask of tt in the | Eh in . : “on ee Pel earts is no good. ae toe ene isd Sun pouker y kissaa | By this time the short one was disgusted. her. Then Juno stepped down off her ped- | He,stopped and sai “Well, you dod-gasted chump, you play after all your blufting? The tall one hesitated for a minute. ‘Then he said: “1 will match pennies with you.” | estal and gave me directions how to use the hat will dose. She said: ‘One spoonful of this befor2 meals will separate the soul from the body, but, unlike most other medicines, will grant the scvl the power of reuniting with the body. You can take a drink of it now and bet Baa Gi, your soul cun hang around outside until En Route. the thirty days are up, when they will) From Puck. release your body and you can get together = My. again.” The Escape. “Juno cut me off a lock of her hafr with a cold chisel and we prepared for my es- | cape. Juno gave me some notes to l friends in the upstairs part of crea- tion and cuddling myself in a sleeping posture I took the mysterious dose. Swiftly my spirit’ soared. Familiar Jandmarks faded in the distance and the earth grew dim in space. I was careering along boule- vards of ether worn smooth by the pas- s of innumerable souls. A few more of pintons and I hove to off my avenue, into th Mother E 1, with here « 1 could ‘rapped in an ‘ulster of d there a mountain peak or the Goddess of Liberty protruding from rous surroundings. Clouds of. s gold rooted me in, and as a spirit ) will, they parted, and tet in Sursts of sun-| Mr. Maymow shine, though throngs of souls carried in-] make up you don’t, Mr. fant stars to illuminate the wa. Rivers of | Man; » jik flowed along glaciers of Kenaevec ice, ‘one of what, nd the waves w churned into butter. | Flocks of fried chickens laid rum omelettes| Mr. Haymow.—Why, you don’t catch me in ts of feathers plucked from | sleepin’ in sich a hammick as that. I paid langeis’ wings. Broad acres of wheut-| fer a bed, and a bed I'm goin’ to have!” my victims for theater tickets and cham- | would call mej; charge of having wantonly destroyed my | WILL MAN EVER FLY? His Only Hope is to Imitate the Flight of Birds. NO BETTER MODEL THAN THE VULTORE Sailing in the Air All ‘Day Long Without One Wing Stroke. HOW FAST SOME BIRDS FLY Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. HALL WE EVER fly?” said a scientist thoughtfully in re- sponse to a Star writer’s question. “It is a problem of fasci- nating interest. I my- self am disposed to answer in the affirm- ative. Man is a won- derful animal. Until he has accomplished this ambition he will never rest content. Already he has in- vented, out and out, two new methods of getting about for which nature offers no Suggestion. I mean the skate and the ve- locipede. Why then should he not adapt to his own purposes a mode of locomotion long familiar, being furnished with count- less models ready at hand to copy from? “There is no doubt in the minds of ad- vanced thinkers on this subject that flying man must imitate the birds. He will never get very far toward the solution of the problem by the use of balloons. Obviously, the first thing required is that he should study the flight of different kinds of feath- ered creatures, in order that he may ascer- tain which of them furnishes the best model. Naturally the eagle suggests itself. He is king of the air. But the humble pig- eon outstrips him in the sky, as the grey- hound flashing by the mastiff. “How would the frigate bird serve as a model? As it soars aloft a mile or more above the earth, upheld apparently with- out a movement of its pinions, it seems the beau ideal of a fiyer. Yet there are cireumstances under which it cannot rise from the ground, requiring much exertion and plenty of space to make a start. The sparrow is, perhaps, the most perfect flyer. As to speed, he outstrips the pigeon; as to power, he can rise vertically: to considera- ble heights; as to journeys, he equals other birds. But his feats of volitation are ac- complished by an expenditure of energy and skill which man cannot reproduce. “It is evident that man must imitate the large soaring birds, which have moderate strength in proportion to their size. A suit- able type is the vulture, which floats aloft | upon the wind without effort. He sails and spends no force, using the breezes instead of his muscles. He knows how to rise and | how to alight without danger—two things which are difficulties to some other large birds. 1f you have ever seen a great yul- ture in full flight, you may well have been struck with the possibility that its mode of locomotion might be adapted by man to his own use, How Fast Birds Fly. “Birds are sustained oy the winds in just the same manner a’ the kites which boys fly are held up in the air. It is a rather curious fact that those feathered creatures which have smal! wings are the most rapid. Every sportsman knows the astonishing speed of ducks and loons and the slowness ot herons, tapwings and barn owis. By com- paring ue progress of birds with Laat of railway trains, it has peen determined that the large sailmg birds in ruil might through space ,et oVer about tairty-seven mules an hour, ‘Thus it may be reasonably inferred that flying man will attain a speed of at least a mule in two minutes. A bird may fly with the wind or ‘tack’ against it. In the former case its velocity may reach 100 miles an hour. “One difficulty to be overcome by flying man is that of getting a start. Sailing birds, especially the very large kinds, find this a troublesome matter. A tawny vul- ture cannot rise twenty yards on a start of forty-five degrees; he cannot rise ten yards vertically. So this king of soarers may be kept a prisoner in a cage without a roof, providel the sides or walls are twenty yards high and twenty yards apart. The rapid-fiying swift, so perfectly home in the alr, cdnnot rise vertically six feet. 1t is securely caged in a large box without a cover; and yet, if any creature is thor- oughly equipped for flight, it is -he. The same is true of the large sea birds. A frig- ate bird is helpless without a big space in which to perform its evolutions. “The birds which have most trouble in getting a Start are the large water birds, which, in setting off from water or ground, are compelled to run a long distance, using both feet and wings, in order to gain the speed required for support. The big vul- tures, if on the ground, likewise get their start by running, the running steps merg- ing into a series of leaps, which continue as long as their feet touch the ground. Birds, of prey start from.the ground by a leap ‘measuring a yard. When they are on the perch, being always at great heights, they simply launch themselves into space and spread their wings open to get under full motion. The first rule in aerial voli- tation is that success in flight is based upon speed. Obstacles in the Way. “To come safely to a stop will be another difficulty for flying man. That is always a serious business for a large and heavy bird. The big bird stops himself by oppos- ing his wings and body to the wind, which thus brings him to a pause. If there is no wind he avoids a jar by gliding upward at a steep slant, thus opposing gravity to speed. By such maneuvers the eagle ts erabled to alight with incredible Hghtness and without shock. This will have to be carefully studied when man comes to ex- periment seriously with aerial apparatus. He may add a lot of embellishments, such as elastic nets, beds of straw and watery beds for floating machines. ‘The vulture solves the problem of re- maining In the air with the least expendi- ture of force. It may be said that he flies or rather soars with the greatest science. In order to get a living he must rise to a great height to gain a large field of observa- uon, and must remain aloft for a long time without fatigue. On a windy day he can actually leave his perch in the morning, travel many leagues, spend the whole day in the air and get back to his perch at night without a single beat of his wings. He is a sailer par excellence. It is not true, as commonly averred, that he ‘scents the carcass from afar.” He is not abie to find tainted meat that is hidden from view, his sense of smell not being well developed. In fact, he will pass close to it without finding the meal. 5 “Vultures discover their prey by the ex- ercise of a vision more powerful than is possessed by any other animal. They may be said to establish a complete network of observation all over the earth. When one of them spies a meal, others see him start for it and they follow. Thus they assem- ble very rapidly. It is more than likely that they sometimes go to sleep on the wing—at all events that they doze, as a horse does while standing, though the lat- ter animal retains sufficient control over his muscles to preserve the equipoise on his four legs. ‘Some naturalists have advanced most curious explanations of bird fitght, especial- ly of soaring or sailing flight. They have tried to show that the air contained in the hollow bones of birds makes them light. Such notions are absurd. Birds weigh as much for bulk as terrestrial animals. Their specific gravity is the same as that of man, of mammals and of fishes. Deprived of | their feathers they sink in water. | _“M. Mouillard, the French savant, has | made some interesting experiments by al- | tering the wings of various living birds. | Some of the wings he clipped short; others he lengthened by piecing them out with the |tong primary feathers from the wings of | birds of prey, fastened on with glue. The birds thus treated behaved very curiously. They would start off to fly in their usuai manner, but, finding that their wings were no longer adapted to that method, they would find themselves obliged to fly like birds of the type which they had been made to resemble. For exampie, a kestrel faicon, a good soarer, had one-half in length of his primary feathers cut off, the | result being to transform him into a row- | ing bird. In the same manner kites were | metamorphosed into stormy petrels by clipping off half the width of the wing for its whole length and abolishing the tail The result was to compel them, notwith. standing their habit of soaring upon light breezes, to await instead the brisk winds which alone could sustain them without fatigue. | A Bird of Enterprise. “Among the birds experimented on in this fashion was a Pelican. This is one of the most interesting of feathered crea- tures, by the way. In point of intelligence he is among birds what the elephant is among mammals. Like the latter animal, a boundless curiosity attracts him to man. The doings of the sovereign of creation interest him profoundly. Of him M. Mouil- lard says: “He will not, like the large birds of prey, morosely assume a gloomy state of sulks, | beginning with his captivity and ending with his death; he will not go crouch in a corner and motionless ponder on his lost liberty—not a bit of it. After two or three days, if, without looking at him or appar- ently noticing him in any way, you are occupied in doing something, he will not let half an hour pass before he is between your legs, the better to observe your ac- tions. Every now and then he will stretch out that frightful bill of his, but there is no need of extra guard; all there is to do is not to draw the hand back, because it might be cut against the saws of his man- dibles. When he sees no reply to his over- tures he will become almost troublesome in his familiarities; he will come into the house as if it were his own; he will pick fleas off the dog; he will purloin a shoe; he will make way with a ball from the bil- Hard table with an air of perfect innocence. He will not quit the neighborhood of man’s rolled up in a ball in the middle of the group, rest his bill on his back, and from this vantage ground his intelligent eye will follow every gesture and every word spoken. He imposes himself upon man as his companion; he declares that his society social gathering, but he will squat down all | | i will be accepted, and as, after all, he is | not very troublesome, as—far from being repugnant—he is clean and stately, man gives in and becomes his friend. “Like the vulture, flying man will be able to soar py using the power of the wind, requiring no other force,” said the scientist in conclusion. “What, it will nat- urally be asked, is the least wing su required to sustain a human being and ap- paratus weighing 176 pounds? Careful cal- culation shows that eighty-two square feet will suffice to uphold that weight in sal'ing flight. When the first dread of the eir has e conquered, when the horror of empty space has been mastered through habit, man, having successfully imitated the birds, will doubtless be able to improve on their methods.” ———_ HELD TO SECURE A LOAN. Why It Was That Mr. Johnson Felt Obliged to Play Shylock. The yard gate opened slowly, as if actuat- ed by a person who was influenced by hesi- tation. First a head appeared; it was that of a young colored man, and was adorned with a black derby hat, the style of which was somewhat marred by an indentation in the top as if a brick had fallen upon it. Next, a foot became visible, and presently the whole of the visitor was in evidence. An overcoat, evidently made for a person at least a foot and a half taller than him- self, rather outdid the fashion as to length, inasmuch as it trailed ground. The individual thus described shambled up to the door of the kitchen and knocked. He was admitted by a prepossessing young colored woman in a white apron. She said: “Good morning,” but he made no response. Seating himself in a chair by the range, he extended his legs and proceeded to gaze steadfastly at his feet, which were ab- ncrmally large and rather muddy. At Jew. ear looked up and ejaculated: “Well!” “Did you speak?” he white apron. Nope,” replied the caller, relapsing into moody silence. “Oh, I thought you did.” “Say!” he remarked, after an interval of about half a minute. “Say what?” “Whar you ¢wine this evenin’?” ‘I’m gwine to the theater.” “Who with?” = “With Mr. Washington, ef you wanter no’ said the young woman hat fool nigger from Alexanuria?” “Mr. George Washington ain't no fool, an’ he ain't no nigger,” said the young woman with indignation. “He's a puffect ee ; “Him a gen'I'man! Yah, yah! Why, youse jokin’. He ain’t nothin’ but a low-down joafer.”” “Abraham Johnson, that’s a great big whopper, an’ you know it. Mr. Washing- ton is in the barber business. It's a per- fession very superior to your line, which is cartin’ ashes,” “Oh, yes, I s'pose it is,” rejoined Mr. Johnson sardonically. “He's good wid a razzer in a scrimmage, I don’t doubt. Seems to me he was tuk up a while ago an’ got ninety days for usin’ one at a pahty where there was ladies present.” ‘That's annuder lie!” responded the young woman angrily. “Anyhow he spends mos’ ob his time shootin’ craps,” insisted Mr. Johnson. “I heerd you was gettin’ sorter stuck on him, ne I s'pose there ain’t no use in me talk- I ain't stuck. But he ain’t done nothin’ u, an’ you've no business to abuse “Well, I object to your goin’ to ad ter wid him.” as = ed eased “T ain't takin’ orders from you, Mr. John- son. Vhy not? Ain't you my gal?” “No, I ain't. I ain’t a-goin’ to keep com- pany wid you no longer.” ou ain't, t. “‘Dat’s all right, Miss Arabella Brown. I might say dat no lady would chuck over a gen’I'man in de style you hab me, ter take up wid a common crap-shootin’, raz- zer-pullin’ nigger from Alexandria. But I ain’t a-goin’ to make no remarks. before I git out you won't mind pa: der fo’ dollars I lent you las’ monf?” “You didn’t loan it to me, replied Miss Erown. “You gave it to me. “I ain't givin’ money to any gal dat don’t b'long to me—'specially when she says I'm a lar an’ chucks me over to take up wid a low-down barber. I want dat cash right away.” I ain't got it.” ‘Don’t you mean to give it back?" ll think about it,” said the young wo- ran. Mr. Johnson seemed much disturbed in mind. It was bad enough to lose his lady love, but to find himself “out” $4 at the same time was too much, to endure. glanced around the kitchtn, and, pale Miss Brown’s hat and best out-of-door shoes on a chair, made a grab for them. Holding the shoes in his hand and the hat under his left arm, he bowed with sarcas- tic politeness and remarked: “Dat's all right. I'll jus’ take these an’ keep ‘em for security till you pay me.” With that he opened the door and hastily skipped out, carrying the articles with him. This occurred last week. Mr. Johnson is still holding the collateral. The loss caused Miss Brown to shed a few tears; but, when asked if she intended to replevin the prop- erty, she said that she guessed not. She thought she could buy a better pair of shoes and a more stylish hat for less than What Mr. Johnson proposes to do with the collateral can only be surmised. Very likely he will present them to the lady who has the good fortune to take Miss Brown's place in his affections, $< “Pll lift him a thorough-bred. CY slighUy on the SSS ss A LITTLE GIRL’S ESCAPE. How She Was Rescued Fron a Life of Torture. Almost Beyond the Hope of Recovery—A& Loving Father's Gratitude. (From the Kansas City, Mo., Journal) Perhaps no disease with which a young per fon can be afflicted is so terrible and blighting in its nature as a nervous disorder, which grad- ually saps the strength of its victim and haunts him or her day and night. This was the melancholy prospect which com fronted Mr. L. L. Barbor's young daughter, of Edgerton, Kan., and the gratitude of her par- ents when a complete and lasting cure was brought about may beimagined. Learning of the case, for it is one which has created a great deal of interest throughout the ecunty, @ Jour nal reporter sought Mr. Barbor to get the full particulars in the belief that much good could be done other sufferers by the publication of the facts of the case, The reporter found Mr. Barbor in his shop busily engaged on a piece of Work. He at once narrated briefly the particu- lars of the cure which had been effected in the case of his daughter. The facts are set forth in | the following affidavit which Mr. Barbor vok untarily and cheerfully made: 1. L. Barbor being duly sworn, on oath de Poses and says: During the spring of the current year, 1883, my daughter Bertie, aged 13 years, became af- | flicted with a nervous disease which grew upon | her tosuch an extent that it seriously inter- | fered with her studies, and aroused the gravest | fears that it would develop intoSt. Vitus’ dance. | My daughter became so nervous thatshe would drop her knife and fork while eating, and Would at times be seized with nervous twitch- | ings which excited the alarm of myselfand wife. About this thne my wife read In a newspaper | of a wonderful cure of the same diseaseeffected | by Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills for Pale People. | So strongly was I impressed with the facts set forth in the testimonial that I wrote to ascer- | tain the authenticity of the case. Receiving @ reply which completely satisfied me, I sent for @ box of the pills, From the very first dosea marked improve ment in my daughter'scondition was noticed. She had become thin and excessively pale, as 1s common to sufferers from nervous diseases, and her weight had decreased to an alarming extent. Afteracareful and thorough trial of the pills, she not only began to grow less nerv- ous but also began to gain flesh It is needless to say that I was both surprised and delighted with the wonderful change | brought about by the first box of the pilis. She is e new girl, and all the symptoms of ber dis+ , ease have disappeared. Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills have certainly wrought @ wonderful and com- plete cure, and I can say nothing too good in theirfavor. But now she is away on a visit, something she would not have thoughtof being | Sble to do three months ago. From being shrinking, morbid and timid she bas become a strong, healthy girl with no appearanceof ever having been afflicted with any nervous trou- bles. The pills have done wonders, and I take great pleasure in recommending the pillstoall who are afflicted with @ similar disease. (Signed) LL. Barpor. Subscribed and sworn to before me this 14th day of August, 1893. (ska) W. H. Kewxy, Notary Publia Mrs. Barbor, who was present, cordially as- sented to all that her husband said the remarkable cure brought about by the pills, | nd declared that they owed their daughter's densed form, all the elements necessary togive new life and richness to the blood, and restore prostra- tion ; all diseases resulting from vitiated bu- mors in the blood, such as scrofula, chronic sions, irregularities and all forms of weakness. in men they effect a radical cure in all cases These Pills are manufactared by the Dr. Wil- Mams’ Medicine Company, Schenectady, N. Y., and Brockville, Ont, and aresold only in boxes bearing the firm's trade mark and wrapper at 50 cents a box, or six boxes for $2.50, and are never sold in bulk or by the dozen or hundred. CRERERREREE REESE ESS SO ESE ‘Consultation Costs Nothing. sees xxx ReER RS ee EO ec Ts Widow Watkins Nearly Died from bilious headaches. ns MERTZ, F and 11th sts. 2% ‘and by weveraily. Nicely Arranged Hair —— Often insures the owner a beauty her fees fires’ cannot give. Por many years we've been arranging hair, as well as cutting, shampooing and “Pasteur” Filter, —the only “‘germ-proof’ filter tm the world. Sole agents; $6.00 up. Excellcut line of Chafing Dishes, tn sires. sind Kinds. ed PRCIAL. Wiimarth & Edmonston, Crockery, &c., 1205 Pa. ave.