Evening Star Newspaper, April 7, 1894, Page 20

20 WORKERS AT COURT The Men Who Write the Reports of the Pollard-Breckinridge Trial. ARTISTS AS WELL AS WRITERS How the Out-of-Towa Papers Are Represented. FULL ACCOUNTS REQUIRED Wot the least interesting feature of the public generally is only too details, and the paper which best reports is the one that is From New York Herald. About a third of the space inside of the Dar has been set aside for newspaper peo- ple, and chairs and tables are provided for their convenience. The same men occupy ‘the same places day after day, so that their faces are becoming as familiar to the court @fficials as the faces of the gray-halred or Dald-headed spectators who frequent the @ourt room with unfailing regularity, and ‘who were referred to, on Wednesday, by Judge Bradley as “drawn by morbid eurios- Sail From Recorder, 30th. Rewspaper men make a jolly Itttle as they hang together well. Every they take luncheon together in Little at neighboring restaurants, and and on their way back to the news- offices and newspaper row, they dis- Weta details of the case in a manner ws that from frequent attendance they have gained more than a mere 4 4 tne From New York Herald, 21st. ‘The local papers are, of course, well rep- per] by reporters at the trial. The Post had one man there, Mr. Ernest (. Walk- er; the News two men, Mr. Ingale and Mr. Smith, while The Star’s reports have been made by three men, working two at a time. he Star reporters have occupied their usual Seats beside the clerk of the court, where they bave sat for many years. In addition to these writers, The Star has had an artist @t court every day, whose work has gone far to give a good idea of the scenes in the court room to the many who have been un- lable to secure admission. The Correspo: its. ‘The out-of-town papers have also devoted &@ great deal of attention to their reports of the trial, and, in addition to the service from the regular press associations, many of the leading papers of the country have bad their special writers at court from the be- ginning of the case. All the developments of the trial have attracted interest not only fm neighboring cities, but especially in the west, through Ohio and Kentucky, where many of the incidents on which the suit is Ihave occurred during the past ten years. —_—_— H. T. Smith, by de Lipman. Two of the New York papers have sent over “star writers,” who have been vying | ‘with the local men in the ent of their re- The New York Herald has sent over ir. R. S. Yard, who is regarded as one of the cleverest special writers in Gotham, and Who has done some partic !>rly brignt work fm the last few years. He is a shortnand man, and has the advantage, with all morn- ing paper men, of having plenty of time to Write out a full repe er the court ad- fourns in the afternoon. With him 1s asso- elated Mr. M. de Lipman, the artist, whose name is familiar to every one who has watched the development of newspaper Mlustration. Some of the best outline work that has appeared in the Herald has been from his pen. Several of his drawings | nave appeared recently in the Herald are | reproduced with this article, not because | they are the best specimens of his work, but simply because they given an Idea of scenes about the court room as they appear to him. Mr. de Lipman “looks the part” of an artist and is a handsome, black-haired German, whose be composed of “sauerkraut und bier.” Mr. de Lipman and the other New York artists send their drawings over by trainmen on afternoon trains to New York, where the Pictures are given to messengers and hur- tied off to the respective offices, to be pho- tographed and etched by electric light. As might be expected, the New York World wants generous reports of the trial, and they did wisely in sending over such a strong team as Baillie and Smith. Mr. Dr. Schacffer, From Baltimore Amer- fean. David G. Baillie ts, as his name would make him appear, a Scotchman, but he knows the ins and outs of New York journalism in a “verra gude” way. He reels off several yards of matter every day, and as the New York papers pay largely by space, this trial has probably made a generous addition to his bank account. Mr. H. T. Smith, the artist of the World, has had his initials tucked away in the corners of some of the best drawings that have appeared In any of the New York newspapers of recent years. He sends over a number of sketches every day, so that readers of the New York World have no excuse if they do not know what the Inside ¢ the Washington court room looks like, together with the faces of the prominent actors of this drama. From North American. These two papers are by no means the only out-of-town journals that have gene into the work of illustrating the trial. Dur- ing the early stages of the case the Cincin- nat! Enquirer contained a picture of the court room and the people, which was al- leged fo have been drawn in Cincinnati from @ telegraphic description of the scene. This is enterprise, of course, but the picture it- self was a curious looking object. Probably the telegraph operators were not much in the artistic way. In the picture Judge Brad- ley, the well-groomed and aristocratic gen- tleman, was given the heavy black mus- tache, the oily hair and the diamond stud that caricaturists usually give to ward poli- ticlans and the police justices in the big city on Staten Island. From New York Wor! The Baltimore American has had as its representative Mr. McKee Barclay, who has Played the unusual role of artist and report- er both. His drawings can hardly be said to rank among the best, though they are cer- tainly not at the foot of the list. The Phil- adelphia North American had a picture of Mr, Breckinridge that looked like a com- M. de Lipman, by Smith. posite of photographs of Senator Sherman and some man “before taking.” Mr. Breck- inridge {s a portly, rather heavy-looking gentleman, but he certainly is not so in the North American. The New York Recorder has also had a number of pictures of Mr. Breckinridge, which all look like each other. The Cincinnati papers have given columns and columns of space to their reports of the great trial, and for some time the En- quirer had its great star, Mr. George Alfred Townsend, better known as Gath, the name he signs to his letters, to do their descriptive work. Recently, however, he has not been seen about the court, and his place has been filled by Mr. Francis B. Gessner, whose work does not shine at all badly by com- parison. Col. Fred. D. Mussey, the head of the Cincinnat! Commercial Gazette in this city, has not left the trial to an assistant, but has neglected Congress to give Cincin- nati an idea of a Congressman. Col. O. O. Stealey of the Louisville Courier-Journal and the Louisville Evening Times has been enlightening the people of the blue grass country as to what has transpired in this city. Mr. Clifford Rose has also been cor- responding for some Kentucky papers. The Associations, ‘The two press associations, the Assoclated Press and the United Press, have had some of their best talent at the trial. The Asso- ciated Press has had Mr. Robert M. Collins, who used to do court and local work for Washington papers, and who had been one of Mr. Boynton’s assistants at the Capt‘ol since the Associated Press was formed. Mr. Richard V. Oulahan of the United Press is a@ valuable man at the Capitol and around | the departments, though he Is best known to the public generally, perhaps, valuable newspaper work durin, stead riots, in 1802 H bim Mr. John A. Holm writer. Louis Republic, Mr. Walter E. Adams of the Boston Herald and Capt. BE. W. Brady of the Baltimore News have also had desks at the trial and have been writing out col- umns of matter. There ts some probability that when the case {s finally disposed of there will be formed an “Association of for his as had asuistin, a shorthan that | Survivors of the Pollard-Breckinridge TriaL” @ the Home- | Mr. Henry C. Roberts of the St. | | THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, APRIL 7 1894—TWENTY Pauss. EXPERTS IN WHIST Many Exponents of This Famous Game in This City, A MARKED FEATORE OF CLUB LIFE ‘There are a few such tn Washington, but we know that they would not like to see their names in print. Such women prefer to play whist with men; but during Lent whist afternoons for women only have been popu- lar. Probably the best feminine players in Washington belong to a strong organization known as the Finesse Whist Club, which hasgheld fortnightly meetings for the last five or six years. About a year ago all of the whist clubs of Philadelphia and nearly all of the best players in the social clubs joined together to form an All Philadelphia Whist Club, which has since been almost invincible. This club can send out a team of twenty-four or forty-eight players, all of whom are first-class. In the last two games which this club has played against the The Victories of the Capital Bicycle Club Team. AN ALL WASHINGTON OLUB Written Exctustvety for The Evening Star. HE EXTRAORDI- nary revival of inter- est In the game of whist in America has made itself felt tm Washington. For many decades al- most exclusively an English game, all the great advances in whist theory and practice, down to the last ten years, were made by English players and writers, with the exception of a few important in- novations introduced by Deschapelles and his French school about 1830. Recently, however, a new and most excellent system of play has sprung up in this country and the so-called “American leads” systematiz- ed by N. 3. Trist of New Orleans have almost revolutionized the game. Their value has been recognized by even the con- servative English authorities and to their invention and to American mechanical de- vices known as “duplicate systems,” which largely eliminate the element of luck, are due, in great part, the enthusiasm for the game which is rapidly growing all over the United States. A national association has been founded and holds annual conven- tions. State associations and minor leagues have been formed, and whist clubs are springing into existence every day. Washington has not only felt the force of this revival, but has taken a prominent part In bringing it about, and at the pres- ent time this city is the home of some of the strongest players in the country. Mr. A. G. Safford of the Columbia Athletic Club and Capital Bicycle Club was a dele- gate to the first national convention, and was largely instrumental in introducing the anti-gambling clause tn the rules. The old idea of whist represents it as being played in a country house after dinner by the older and more staid members of the family and guests, and Gladstone voiced this idea when he advised every one to lay up against com- Ing old age the reading habit and a knowl- edge of whist. Whist, in America, however,as does everything else in America, brings the youth to the fore. The conservatism of old age even in this intellectual game is no match for the radical innovations and bril- Mant play of youth when the latter are bal- anced by sound judgment and a reasonable fear of possibilities. Capital Club Players, The best whist in Washington, in all prob- ability, is played at the Capital Bicycle Club, This organization is one of the old- est and was at one time one of the most prominent bicycle clubs in the country. As bicycling gradually became less of a sport and more a means to an end the club lost to some extent its raison d'etre and has developed into a pleasant social club, with very pronounced whist tenden- cles. Its whist victories are too well known to readers of this paper to need extended notice. It has won two national champion- ships and a great number of match games against clubs in other cities, with teams we in number from four to twenty- four. Its leading players are nearly #ll young men, although a few older heads have joined the club, attracted by the ex- cellent whist. The strongest hands in the club are probably played by Messrs. C. M. Barrick, W. T. Bingham, J. P. Wooten, H. N. Low, J. M. Borden, T. P. Borden, Irv- ing Williamson, Dr. Lee Harban, Col. John Selden and L. Fogg, although there are at | least a dozen others who pla: Tl not quite, as perfect a game. ae Aside from small organizations, which play only ong or two tables and have no definite abiding place, the Capital Bicycle Club is the most distinctive whist body in the cit; Good whist is played, however, in nearly of the larger clubs, and the num- ber of tables occupied nightly is growing rapidly. A number of shrewd players are to be found at the Army and Navy Club. Gen. Gibbon, Col. Hosmer, Paymaster Gen- eral Smith, Gen. Card, Gen. Saxton, Capt. J. P. Story and Dr. Heger are well-known whist players, and it is doubtful whether this experienced set of men could be match- ed for strong play in any other club. As a rule, conservatism governs their play, but thelr deductions are very accurate and ey make use of all wae eee all that is best in the Some Club Pinye: ‘The Cosmos Club has felt the full force of the whist revival, and a team tourna- ment for the club championship {s now going on. Mr. 8S. I. Kimball, chief of the life saving service, and Gen. A. W. Greely are the Nestors of the whist Players at this club, and Mr. R. H. Thayer, Mr, Cc. J. Bell, Prof. G. K. Gilbert, Messrs. L. O. Howard, W. H. Ashmead, L. C. Fletcher, Dr. N. L. Bates, W. P. Sutton and Prof. G. Brown Goode are among the strongest players. In the Metropolitan Club whist has not a very strong footing, but the club has among its members a number of very strong players. Admiral Franklin, Admiral Walker, Gen. Clark, Senator Wolcott, ex- Secretary Boutwell, Admiral Greer, Judge Hillyer, Senor Muraga, the Spanish minis- ter; Capt. Story, Paymaster Bacon and us srs. Laat ert and Worthington are among the members tha some. most devoted to The Columbia Athletic Club has been Prominent in whist circles since the build- ing of the new club house, and the first in- ter-club tournament in the city was held between teams of twelve, representing this club and the = Capital Bicycle Club. Among the prominent players of that time were Messrs. A. G. Safford, L. C. Rines, FE. A. Bowers, Philip Mauro, L. G. Eakin, the Thompson brothers and GC, L. Marlatt. Most of these men have dropped out of late and the principal exponents of the game at present are Dr. Wm. Wirt, Dr. L. 8. Har- jee: and eae R. . 5 emmes, T. A. Callan, J. C. Wilso1 F. Wilson and F. F. Barrett. saan For many years a strong whist club of semi-social character held regular meet- ings in Le Droit Park. Gen. Birney, Mr. Henry Gannett, Prof. G. K. Gilbert and Dr. C. A. White were leading members. Of late this club has gone out of existence, but serious whist of a very high order {s still played in the Park by a little coterie com- posed of Dr. John Stephens and Messrs. Ti. L. Prince, 3. I. Kimball and W.T. Grinell. Other soctal whist clubs of the same gener- al character as the old Le Droit Park or- ganization now flourish on Capitol Hill, at Mount Pleasant and at Brookland. The meetings of the Brookland Whist Club are. in fact, among the most prominent of the social functions of that pleasant suburb. Women as Whist Players, The game of whist does not seem to be well adapted to the feminine mind. The close reasoning required and the absolute concentration of all faculties upon the game are a little beyond the average wo- man. But just as women are invading all masculine occupations, so they are taking part In many masculine games, and whist is really becoming a feminine fad in many circles. Miss Clapp, the well-known whist teacher of New York and Boston, has ha large ladies’ classes in Washington for twc seasons past and R. F. Foster, the author of one of the latest and most excellent whist manuals, told the writer last summer that he had ten women pupils to one of the op- Capital Bicycle Club of Washington the Philadelphians have been victorious, not- withstanding the fact that the Washing- tonians had previously repeatedly beaten teams from the Hamilton Club, which formed the nucleus of the new Philadelphia club. The success of the Philadelphia plan suggests that the whist players of Washing- ton shoulé not leave the struggle for inter- rurban honors to be carried on by the Capital Bicycle Club single-handed, but that an All Washington Club should be formed compased of all of the strong play- ers in this city, and which would have so much excellent material to draw from that {t could not fail to meet on even ground teams of any size from cities of any size. ‘This suggestion is urged upon the considera- tion of all local players, —_—— MR. HEURICH'S RESIDENCE The Big Mansion Just Completed on New Hampshire Avenue, Elaborate Designs of the Decorator and the Wood Carver—The Roof Promenade and Other Featur: ——— The only private dwelling in this city of fire-proof construction throughout is situ- ated at the corner of New Hampshire ave- nue and Sunderland place, and in a few weeks it will be occupied by its owner, Mr. Christian Heurich. The residence is not alone notable in this respect, however. Entering the building through the door- way that opens from the massive porte cochere a hall fourteen feet square is reached. The color tone of the walls and ceiling ranges from salmon to green. Above and over it all are tiny bronze shield-shaped basso reliefs. The room to the right is the parlor, and it is entered through immense doors of prima vera wood finished with piano polish and carved in graceful designs by the best experts that Switzerland could spare. The walls are paneled in old tvory and tinted a delicate mauve and the cornice is a great mass of old ivory carved. Over the fireplace is a mantel of prima vera wood, polished until it rivals the immense mirror above it, which is framed with the same material carved. The ceiling, however, is a strik- ing feature of the room. The entire surface is an oll painting upon canvas. On a background formed of a summer sky are three nymphs, partially draped in flowing robes. Near them is an apple tree in full bloom, and a troop of Cupids are bringing their mistresses the apple blossoms to add to a regal profusion of spring flowers, which they are wreath- ing into garlands. A little distance away are two more Cupids indulging in a raptur- ous dance, and the ceiling of the bow window is a procession of the same chubby little creatures, gaily marching around, and Mnked together with chains of roses. Back of the parlor is the music room, the walis and ceiling of which are painted in de- signs, and beyond is the dining room. The most striking feature here ts a massive oak sideboard, which reaches from the parquet floor to the ceiling, seventeen feet above. The panels of the doors contain groups of game and fruit. The ceiling is in paneled oak. In the rear of the dining room is the conservatory, built entirely of iron, cement, tile and glass, 28 by 30 feet in dimensions, and 30 feet high. In the center is an electrical fountain. Coming back over the mosaic floor of the entrance hall, the I- brary is entered through doors of prima vera, similar to those of the parlor opposite. This is also finished in prima vera, and its ceiling is decorated with portraits of the men and women famous for their accom- plishments in prose and poesy. On the Second Floor. The second story is reached by a broad stairway of easy ascent made of marble Slabs resting on onyx bases. The stair rail is of bronze, and it rises from a chandeiier reaching to the ceiling and surmounted with porcelain shades. Above the library is a guests’ room, finished in dark mahogany. The walls are painted in arabesque designs and the entire treatment is Moorish in ef- fect. A bath room of commodious size con- taining a porcelain tub adjoins it. Across the hall and over the parlor are Mr. and | The front room | Mrs. Heurich’s apartments. is also finished in mahogany. and the walls are tinted. The ceiling in this room is decorated by a hand-painted design. Venus is pictured as about retiring to slumber, and a small army of Cupids are tenderly at- tending her. ‘She ts reclining on a mass of roses. The walls of the back room are painted robin exg blue, and from the cornice the artist has looped a fringe of lace with na- tural simulation. ‘The bath room in the rear is equipped with @ porcelain bath tub set in ivory touched with gold, and there is an onyx washstand. Above the white tiles, which reach eight fect from the floor, is a marsh full of flags and blooming water lilies, while in the per- spective is open water, with sailboats lazily gliding over It. Further back are two rooms where the decorators have used a design of flowers, which hang in great clusters on the walls and run all over the ceiling and into every corner, All these rooms ere furnished with mantel mirrors with carved frames. The third floor is finished in oak aad the rooms are treated in floral effects. To reach the fourth floor from the family portion of the house one must use a stairway that runs up within a closed square tower from the basement floor and opens above that, only near the dining room. The rooms here are finished in oak, and are intended for serv- ants’ quarters. A Roof Promenade. The stairway runs up to the roof. The entire top of the house is a promenade, fitted with awning supports, and at the corner, in the top of the round tower, is a room that contains a joke. On opening the door one finds himself looking at a big granite wall surmounted by an iron railing. ‘The dome above Is the firmament filled with stars, through which the crescent moon is sailing. Clinging to the railing in one place is a queer old fellow, who looks as if he might have come direct from the Hartz mountains, peering at the moon through a big spy glass. His twin brother, a little way off, is imi- tating a tight-rope performer by ' walking on the railing, and a little further on is another old fellow, who gazes down cn the visitors with the most comical expression of mischief imaginable. The basement floor is devoted to the kitchen, laundries, the steam-heating appa- ratus,the wine cellars and vegetable close(s The front room under the parlor is the bil- ard room. Across the hall from this is a unique and grotesoue apartment. It is the wassail room, where Mr. Heurich will gather his friends to have a pipe and tank- ard of beer. The walls and ceilings are filled with gay legends in German, sug- gestive of the delights of subdued dissipa- tion. Around each is a scroll with some fantastic figure clinging to or resting on It. A lusty rooster is crowing above one, and an indignant cat arches its back above another. A Cupid with a glass of wine in his hand, makes eyes at a mon’ who clutches a mug of beer in his pa other side of the room; and over :hem all Noah and Gambrinus hold joint guardi ship from their places on the ceiling. silver safes are bulit into the walls, and so 1s the refrigerator. The ed and polished oak. Every floor in the house is identical with the other, and all are the same as the roof—seven inches of solid concrete pressed between immense fron girders. There is not a piece of wood- work in the residence that is decorated at all that has not been carved by hand. posite sex. The average woman player, however, particularly one who has been in- structed by a professional teacher, is apt to rely too strictly upon book and precept play and to Ignore those instant changes of plan necessitated by emergencies arising in the course of a hand. A first-class woman player ts rarely found; but when one has attained proficiency look out for her! That feminine intuition so much talked about ts In Another Class. From Life, Mr. Delawanna—“I want to sell my farm in Jersey.” Reai estate agen’ “What is the price?” Mr. Delawanna—“I'd like to get fifteen thousand.” Real estate agent—‘“That’s pretty high for a farm. You'd better call it a ‘coun- not wanting here. She will read your mind and place your cards with unerring ac- curacy. She ts the only whist player living who can always tell, for instance, when fourth hand ts leading through her suit and still retaining command of it. try seat’ and ask twenty.” If you desire a luxuriant growth of healthy hair of a natural color, nature's crowning orna- ment of both sex y Hall's Vegetavle Sicilian Hair butler’s_ pantries | are finished in Tennessee marble and carv- | | IN HORSE-SHOE CAMP | | i From Romance. Ward Talbot sank wearfly upon a fallen tree. The blanket slung from his shoulder by a rawhide thong fell into a forked limb. His rifle slid forward on the ground. Streams face. He was near the summit of a mountain, and the forests behind receded to a valley of vast extent, densely wooded, foundly silent, primeval and uninhabited. A shimmering river wound through the distant trees, and Talbot scowied as he looked back upon it. Six days before that river had lured him from one of these sum- mits in quest of placer diggings. He was now returning unsuccessful, half starved and lost. A deer suddenly appeared before him, not two hundred yards away, near the top of the divide. It was visible in relief against the luminous sky, standing on a small flat rock, with feet gathered and head thrown sideways, curiously alert. The miner ut- tered an impatient cry. He had seen not less than thirty deer within the last four hours and had not a single cartridge left for his rifle. One hand quickly sought the revolver hanging at his belt, but he shook his head and abandoned the impulse. His mouth watered as the deer bounded off. Not since morning had Talbot tasted food, and it was now 5 o'clock in the afternoon. Resuming bis blanket and epipty rifle, he soon gained the narrow sunburnt crest and rejoiced to behold again the Okanagon Val- ley, the giant brown buttes against the eastern horizon, and the mighty snow-cled peaks of british Columbia towering far north, For Ward Talbot was one of that adventurous band who first penetrated the reservation of the Moses indians in Waesh- ington territory when thrown open for settlement. Sinewy and strong was Talbot, a young man of robust health and shrewd wits. He wore brown overalis and blouse, with a re- volver and light prospecting pick thrust in his belt; and as he stuod beneath a tang- led fir, nis boots in a mat of partridge-ber- ry vines, and the pendant needles trembling against the edge of his brown canvas hat, a look of perplexity crossed his frank and manly face. He had come over at an un- expected angle and could rot quite place his surroundings. A few steps farther and the charred top of a tall burnt pine rose to view. Simultaneously the young miner's face brightened. He found himself not five hundred feet from one of his own claims, the very first one he had staked out, and which he had never visited since the day he located it. The nearest corner stake was directly below him. The tents of Horse- shoe Camp were in sight two miles away, and an hour's walk would take him to his own hut and coffee pot. Quite different was this northern slope from the southern acclivity he had lately climbed. The latter was rocky and sandy, its soil washed of vegetable mold by quick- melting snows. On this northern side he struck at once soft earth and a carpet of thick pine grass, down which he strode noiselessly toward a barren spot where boulders projected from the ground and a white stake showed. This was made of cottonwood, rudely squared by an ax, and upon it was penciled: Stake B. Southeast Corner Post. Quartz Claim, PILLAR OF FIRB, Located by Ward Talbot May 25th, 1886. The miner smiled as he read this, and recalled the peculiar circumstances under which he discovered his first claim. While hunting, soon after his arrival in the country, he saw far up this mountain side a dead pine burning brilliantly. Mak- ing his way thither in the hope of meeting white men, he reached a deserted Indian camp by the side of a little spring. The abandoned camp-fire had ignited a pile of |dry brush, and thence had communicated to a dead but standing pitchpine tree, which roared furiously as it burned, cast- ing off volumes of black smoke. Here Tal- bot discovered silver float and a few traces | of ore in the rocks, and staked out a claim, {naming it the Pillar of Fire. When the mining district was organized, he recorded his claim, but had never yet found leisure to come up and investigate it thoroughly. Talbot uow descended toward the center of his claim. Here were high walls of rock converging toward a massive platform, overhanging the ledge wherein he had found ore. As he approached the walls he heard a horse whinny, and stopped surprised. An instant later the thud of a pick, striking earth, echoed from the hillside below. There was no mistaking the sound. It fell with regular strokes, tinkling as {t occastonally hit rock. Somebody was working his claim, Talbot set his rifle on end against the rocks at the entrance to the passageway. He took off his ro‘led blanket and laid it gently down. Then he drew his revolver from his belt and inspected it. The weapon was of dragoon size, carrying balls of heavy caliber. He cocked it quietly, and stole forward between the rugged’ steps and down to the stone platform overhanging the hiflside. cate young miner’s face had become very ite. vanced, So far no claims had been jumped in the district. and brawls with the miners. He was peace able and well disposed. But often the most peaceable men are the most imposed upon, and now Talbot had but one purpose—to expel this “jumper” from the Pillar of Fire. He neared the shelf, where the converg- ing walls narrowed to a space not six feet wide. From this point he could see the two opposite end stakes of his claim nearly eight hundred feet down the decliv- ity, and moving forward a little further, he could also see the center stake imme- diately below him. None of his boundary marks had been disturbed. Creeping forth on the irregular platform, Talbot peered over the edge. A few rods down the hill a man was stooping, pick in hand, working in the loose earth. Miners’ rights on the frontier are sharply defined by custom, and peremptorily de- fended. Any one who jumps a duly re- corded claim does so at his peril, and com- mon assent justifies his summary expul- if necessary. Talbot raised his pistol and prepared to hail the intruder, when a new discovery kept him silent. The jumper was not taking ore from the claim. He was putting ore in! Such was undoubtedly the case. He had turned over considerable earth running in a straight line downward from the ledge whereon Ward Talbot stood. and out of a gunny sack of ore the stranger was sprink- with dirt. Again the horse whinnied. Talbot saw it now, a calico or pinto tied in the bushes. He knew that horse, and peering again a the tojler beneath, recognized him also, and understood the matter better. The man below was Mose Tannin, a hanger-on in Horse-shoe Camp, reported to earn his money mostly by gambling and trickery. Two weeks before, in a cursory talk around the evening fire in front of the log hotel, Mose had _ offered to trade this pinto horse for the Pillar of Fire. Talbot agreed, provided the pinto was delivered to him within three days. Mose had not brought the horse and the proposed bar- gain therefore was never consummated, but evidently the gambler now assumed owner- ship of the claim and was “salting” it for some speculative purpose, planting {n the soll float of rich quality, which should give an inexperienced person false opinions of the value of the ledge above. Talbot drew back and deliberated. He had long since grown weary of the artifice and cheating prevalent among miners, and was half-disposed to call out and forbid any farther trespass on his property. But curiosity prevailed. He remained silent and took a position where he could peer down | occastonally upon the workman. He watch- | ed the e and craft h which the frag- | ments of ore were strewn through the soil, the skill with which the earth was packed down over them, a! the patience with which Mose broucht water from the spring in his frying pan and poured it in sueces- sive streams over the surface, washing off all the pickmarks and all traces of his moc- easined feet. This done, the wily trickster withdrew, and tying his gunny sack, pick- ax and frying pan to the pack saddle, climbed into that uneasy seat and went off down the mountain with his rifle across his lap like any honest prospector return- ing to camp. As soon as Mose was safely away, Talbot rent below and discovered at once the full scone of the scheme. At the base of the little bluff Mose d uncovered a ledge of syenite and = silver-bearing ten or twelve feet wide, out of which he had pick- ed several bushels of ore of a very ordinary quality, now lying about on the edge of the chasm. Among this he had scattered ore of higher grade, but similar formation, brought from outside, In the hope that it might beguile some buyer into paying a good price for the claim. It looked to Tal- bot ike a filmsy fraud. not likely to impose on any person of intelligence. He went forward to his center stake. Upon a stone at its baso still lay the bak- ing powder can in which he had left his location notice—a method used in exposed places where paper, if nailed to a stake, would soon be destroyed by wind and rain, of perspiration trickled dcwn his dusty | pro- | He debated his course as he ad-| He had avoided disputes | serous when | sion and the right of the owner to use force | ling the soil, covering his deposits lightly | | He found the notice untouched within, and strode back scornfuily up the hill. As Talbot returned once more above the boulders und turned the corner toward the rocky walls, he inet four deer unexpectedly face to face. Springing forward promptly, the youth stampeded them into the passage j Way. With eager excitement he plucked his revolver from its hostler and fired. A doe fell. The others dashed back desperate- ly through the sinoke, passed him, and van- ished over the divide. |, Advancing toward the fallen deer, Tal- | bot reflected with disquiet that Mose ‘Tan- nin would hear this shot, perhaps turn back | and discover his recent espial. When, there- | fore, the wounded Joe staggered to its feet nd” stood holding up one limp fore-leg, shrinking from the stony verge, yet not daring to take the only path of retreat to- j Ward its enemy in the way, he hesitated | to give a final shot. Draw ag his short- | handled prospecting pick ne hurled it with an accuracy and force that struck the wounded animal off the rock. Dashing for- ward, Talbot saw the doe gather itself | ing splashes of blood every few feet. So copious was the loss that he felt sure the game would soon fall and die. Hurriedly catching up his gun and blaaket, he ran around the ledges and followed after. Near the center stake he regained his pick, net- ing as he did so the numerous deer tracks made in the wet earth. As the ground would set hard in that dry altitude be- cessarily help to hide Mose Tunnin’s trick. Following that crimson trail, Talbot found his doe in a thicket of willows near the brook, lying dead with head extended and legs drawn in. Here he waited to see if Mose returned. It soon became evident that if the latter had heard the shot he had no desire to learn who tired, but had kept on toward Horse-shoe Camp. Whereupon Ward Talbot shouldered the carcass and carried it into a secluded dell, In the gathering twilight he built a fire, cooked a haunch of venison, ate heartily. and roiling in his mackinaw, lay down to sleep beneath the tamarac! Three days passed ere Ward came into Horse-shoe Camp. Meantime he had ex- plored without success a distant ravine. Footsore and jaded, he appeared at night- fall before the hut where his partners sat around the fire. Talbot’s partners were three sober miners, | owners of a promising claim which they | were developing. The youth had chosen | them as associates because alone of all) the camp they neither drank nor gambled. | He was kindly greeted, condoled with over his ill-luck, and given a cheering supper. Then all four went wearily to their bilan! ets. shoulder. A voice whispered in his ear: “Ho, Talbot! I say! Get up a minute, I’ve something to tell you. The young man rosé on his elbow. By the dying firelight he saw Stymer, the bur- ly, black-whiskered barkeeper of the log hotel, who beckoned him to follow outside. They stood by the glowing coals together. Stymer began in a low, gruff voice: “When I first came to camp, you gave me half your can of coffee.” Talbot sleepily remembered some such kindness to the destitute new-comer and rejoined impatiently, “What of it?” “I made up my mind if I could ever throw three thousand dollars in your way, I'd do it. And now I can.” Talbot was wide awake instantly. of mining, he would be glad even with a single thousand to return home, buy a good | team and engage again in farming. He | listened earerly as Stymer continued: “There’s a man in camp, Claypool of St. Paul, has offered Mose Tannin three thou- sand dollars for the Pillar of Fire. I heard "em talk it over on a log by the hotel. You just hang to that claim and sell it your- self. Mose never brought you the pinto, did he?” “No,” replied Talbot with much disgust. “The claim is still mine. jut I don’t be- lieve it's worth fifty cents. “That’s not your lookout. If it's worth three thousand to Claypool, take his money mighty quick!” And Stymer hurried away under the quaking aspens, leaving Talbot much discouraged. For the youth, while anxious to sell any of his claims honestly, knew that the stranger had been beguiled by Tannin to believe the prospect a rich one, and he scrupled to take advantage of the deceit. After breakfast, next morning, he started down the creek toward “town.” On the way he heard hoof-strokes coming up the winding trail, and spied the spotted pinto. Stepping behind a clump of alders, he kept still while Mose Tannin rode by, evidently bound for Talbot’s hut to deliver up the pinto. Ward was glad to avoid him, prefer- | Ting to meet Mr. Claypool first and unde- ceive him. Arrived at the hotel, he learned that the stranger had gone off ear! horseback toward the Pillar of Fire, alone. Ward at haversack, and poll-pick, his progress was rapid, and when an hour later he reached | his claim, he saw a horse tied to a fir near _ the center stake. |_ There were fresh holes in the) line of earth where Mose had strewn falge ts | and Talbot’s quick eye saw ae in | the face of the ledge above. Peering about | for Mr. Claypool, he observed smoke rising near, and making his way through ti | bushes, soon found him in a nook among the boulders. Here, to Ward's surprise, a rough little furnace had been built of flat stone, in which fire was roaring. A biow- | | pipe, hammer, crucible, and phials of acid | jay on the rocks. Evidently a rude assay | | had been made of the mineral gathered. Mr. Claypool stepped into sight, holding tiny scales in his hand and about to make record with pencil in a pocket tablet. He started in confusion when he met the youth’s honest gaze. Ward at once judged him to be a professional man, or a druggist | or chemist, for his complexion was pallid jand his hands dainty and white. “Well, you don’t find much high-grade ore, ir reckon,” said Talbot with that freedom |common to the frontier. “There's none here.” Mr. Claypool appeared much offended by this blunt inquiry. He was a thin, slim, | middle-aged man of cold and reserved man. | ners, having a very crafty face. He looked at the young man sternly. “No. This claim is not worth five dollars. It will not assay ten ounces of silver to the ton.” Whereupon he slipped his utensils into a valise which he slung to his shoulder, strode across to his horse, and rode away without further comment or attention. Talbot was much irritated by this per- emptory withdrawal, but relieved to know the stranger had not been deceived by Mose. He was puzzled, however, when he looked at the bits of mineral left from the assay. They were deeply marked with yellow chlo- ride stain and be knew the ore examined | must have been rich in mineral, so that | the conclusion of the chemist seemed a strange one. He was glad he had escaped any base temptation to try and sell his claim himself at a high price on the strength of Mose Tannin’s representations, since the acumen of the visitor would evidently have foiled the attempt. He started off across | the hills cheerily with clear conscience and ‘light heart. All that afternoon Stymer chafed uneas- ily behind his bar. Mose Tannin had come in with Mr. Claypool, and the two sat by the tables trying to close the bargain. Mose demanded three thousand dollars for the Pillar of Fire. Mr. Claypool now refused, denounced the claim a mere ordinary prospect of unknown value, and even be- gan to collect his baggage preparatory to departure on the stage next morning. Sty- mer, long-experienced in the mines, set | them down for a pair of sharps, and un- derstood their game. He divined that Mose had “salted” the claim. He had peered |into the stranger’s baggage, by which he conjectured that Mr. Claypool, although fresh from town and ignorant of the ordi- nary mining tricks, had picked up a smat- | tering knowledge of assaying, and had come into the camp hoping by stealthy tests to find some valuable claim which he | could obtain for a low price. He shrewdly | | | pect worth a hundred thousand dollars, and was affecting doubt and trying to make Mose think it worthless that he might buy {it for a nominal sum. Meantime, where was Talbot? Why was he not here man- aging the bargain himself? Toward nightfall the matter was con- | densed. Mr. Claypool with great show of | reluctance at last agreed to pay three thou- sand doliars, from which price Mose would not recede. And now he desired that the | claim should be immediately deeded to him. Mose confessed that he had never yet re- ceived his papers from the original owner, Ward Talbot, but agreed to find him that evening and effect both transfers. Soon after, Ward came by with a half | dozen returning prospectors, and Mose went jout to him. Stymer followed anxiously to | the door. Mr. Claypool sat within reading a newspaper. “There’s your horse, Talbot,” said Mose jin an off-hand manner, pointing to the | pinto tled to a tree near. “My horse? I don’t want the horse. That bargain was off long ago. In vain Mose expostulated, argued, raged. Ward had a right to call the bargain void, | since the other had not fulfilled his agree- | ment. At last Mose drew a revolver menac- |ingly. Stymer from the doorway gave a | knowing wink, and Ward, profiting by this hint, treated the threat with indifferenco, If Mose wanted the claim, he must buy it. “What do you ask?” demanded Mose des- perately. Ward hesitated. Stymer plucked from the earth a piece of charred wood and scrawled on the hewn doorpost behind Mose’s back, 1,500; which marks he immediately erased. “Fifteen hundred dollars!” ‘was the reply, up below and leap down the hillside, leav- | fore the next noon, these tracks must ne- | An hour later a hand shook Ward's) ‘Tired | once started off by a short cut up the) mountain. As he carried only his revolver, | | judged that Mr. Claypool believed the pros- | | Mose burst forth with fresh expostula- tion. In vain he stormed and declaimed against the exorbitant demand. Upheld by Stymer’s hints, Ward was firm, and the angry gambler was compelled at last to see that he must lose in this way one-half of his expected gains. He wes hastened to this conclusion by Mr. Claypool's appear- ance, who left his newspaper, drawn by the loud voices, and who frowned when he learned Talbot's identity. The youth at } once suspected that the stranger was also trying to defraud, and all his sympathy with the supposed victim vanished. Mose now confessed that before he could settle with the original owner and properly transfer the claim, fifteen hundred dollars must be paid. Accordingly all adjourned to the shanty of the surveyor, who was also notary public. Mr. Claypool had taken pains to learn that the claim was duly re corded and Ward Talbot's right a clear one. was made by Ward to Mose Tannin, and by Mose to Mr. Claypool, as Mos@ Would not consent to a direct transfer from Ward to the third party. “I will sell my right, but I give everybody to understand that I regard the claim as of little value,” deciared Ward openly era he signed the paper. The unheard-of hon- jesty of such a siztement at such a moment amazed the miners present. Mr. Cloypool with a cold nod made no reply, but gave Mose fifteen hundred dollars, and the cash Was passed by Mose into Ward's hand. At this point the transaction stopped, albeit the documents were ail signed. Mr. | Claypool overheard # remark from a b: stander which aroused his suspicions. left the deed in the surveyor's charge until oaning, when he agreed to pay the balance Great was the hilarity Camp next day. Mr. | experienced miners to | Pillar of Fire, tion was made in Horse-shoe Claypool hired two g0 with him to the myn a examin. of the ledge, the worthies' | quality of the claim pl and M “4 | Tannin’s artifice uncever Then ensued | @ furious scene in the hotel bar room, Clay- pool demandin, dre be 4 & back his fifteen hundred and if he failed to pay the remaind y ler due upon | thetr bargain. Stymer declared that he | Sut nothing of the rights of the matter, ut one thing was clear—that Claypool had nothing to do with Ward Talbot. who sold out fair and square to Mose and took his prerg from Mose aione; therefore he must look to Mose only, and not to Ward, for hi redress. This declaration the miners pre ewe gs Nees, in the interests of . laypool's great alarm. It that’ Mr. Claypool, overawet re profoundly chagrined to fi easily deceived, seft camp at | Mose, the butt of merciless Jeste, moumied 0 and fed over the trai ras iver Wotan trails to the e nightly. camp fire roa ¥ Talbot's hut and shed its cemmep re we od and affrighted, ind himselr so ra genial rays far quaking asps, while into the recesses of the : ot 4 their grizzled leader said, as he whipped — vty Potted ham: nes ™ ¢! you're going back Ward, with the stake yoree wake Ts better for you. I'd like to return to clu | zation myself, but a ry game to your advantage. It js) mining tricks are such Mpeg in folk: ® benefit to honest ———+e+_____ MILLET’S CHOICE OF sUnsEcTs, His Sympathies Were With the Tote ers in the Fields, Millet’s younger brother, Pie . Tre, has a sympathetic sketch of the artist's life at Barbizon in the April number of the Cen- _ tury. Of his love for bumaaity his brother ‘Bay! “He chose the subjects of his pictures from among the familiar objects of the life in which he had been brought Up, and from the work that he himself had performed; Not that he wished to delineate mis: that he sympathized with the laborinct peasant life. To him it seemed the most natural condition of man, and he knew by experience that the workers of the field do not continuaily grumble at their occupa- tion; that even in many instances they en- Joy it, and know how ‘o mingle amusements with their labor. His subjects always im- press one with his great love for humanity, and are presented to excite pity on the part of the beholder. If he represents a mother showing her daughter how to sew or knit, it is always with the affection and tender- | mess of a mother, Or he represents a new- born lamb, which the shepherdess carries in her apron, the legs of the newly-born being Still too weak to walk to the sheepfold. The | ewe follows her lamb, never taking her eyes | from it, and has the anxious air ofa mother trembling with love and tenderness for the safety of her little one. Thus he shows us the sentiment of love as it exists in nature, even among the animais. “He admired order and care in the mother of a family. He has never painted a peas- ant with clothes torn. He sometimes painted one with patched clothes; but surely this spoke of order in the home. He had a hor- ror of people who went with clothes torn and unsewed, showing the want of neatness and care. “His peasant is always honest and re | Spectable in his rustic but orderly wa: an@ never has a wicked or trivial air. He never made a@ portrait of an individual peasant. | He tried to paint a type which would char acterize the man of the fields.” —_— see. Dr. Sam. From the Chicago Record. Down im the old French quarter Gust out of Rampart sirecy wend my way aint retreat Where lives the Voodov doctor, bP pious cateemed “a sham jeclare there's noue elsewbere @o skilled as Dr. Sain. Mith claws of a deviled crawfish, The juice of the prickly prune the quivering dew From a yarb that grow Tn the liglit of a widnight moon! I never should have known him But for the colored folk it bere obtain And ne'er in vain ‘That witard's arts invoke; For when the Eye that's Brit Would bim and bis'n dumn, Of Hoodoo-Doctor Sain! Wit the cout an The ‘pinme roe the potron From ‘a serpent By the light of & In all neurotic aflments T bear that be excels, mn a caver. fon, freed from ill hy the potent skill Hoodoo-Doctor Sam! Feathers of strangled chickens. joss from the dank lagoon, And plesters wet With spider-sweat In the it of a midnight moon! ‘They say when nizhte are grewsome 4nd hours are, ob! so late, pod — oo out unts about For cbarms that hoodoos hatet ‘That from the monting river And from the haunted ¢len Be silently brings what eerie things Give peace to hoodooed men— ‘The tongue of a piebald "possum, ‘The tooth of a senile coon, ‘The buzzard’s breath that pants for death, And film that les f On lisard's exes light ‘of @ midnight moon! none EUGENE PIE, From Trath. Willie Gust home from school and very much excited)—“What do you think, pa? Johnny Smith, one of the big boys, ha@ an argument with the teacher about @ estion in grammar.” “ints fathers What position did he take? Willie—“His last position was across the chair, face down.” 0+ Something on a Count