Evening Star Newspaper, May 5, 1894, Page 14

14 BIG CHINESE GUNS A Visit to the Great Arsenal at Shanghai. THE CELESTIALS PREPARING FOR WAR Acres of Foundries and Thousands of Workingmen. MAKING MODERN ORDNANCE (Copyrighted, 1894, by Frank G. Carpenter) pecial Correspondence of The Evening Star. SHANGHAI, China, March —, 1804 NE HUNDRED factories for the making of arms and munitions of war! ‘Vast foundries for the smelting and rolling of steel! Gun works turning out cannon as big as the biggest now be- ing made at the Washington navy yard! Shops cover- ing acres devoted to the making of the latest of modern magazine rifles! An army of two thousand celestials in blue gowns with their big tails tightly wound about their half-shaven heads ma- nipulating with their slender yellow fin- gers the finest of the modern world’s im- originated. There are only « few of and they are but a terior. Reaching the arsenal we stopped for a moment under a white wall, on which was @ gaudy painting of one of the heroes of Mr. Cornish, and a moment later I was inside of these vast works and surrounded by the din of machinery. Practically the only difference between these works and those of any of the great gun factories which the Chinese delight in, and with which they paint not only the interior wood- work of their shops, but some of their ma. chines as well, and in the fact that all of the work is done by Chinamen. The first room we entered was of about the size of the biggest shop in the Washington navy yard. It covered, I judge, about an acre of space, and in it were being turned out some twelve-inch guns for the navy. You have seen pictures of such guns in the news- papers. They are the bigg: made at our navy yard, and they are immense iron can- non, the barrels of which are thirty-five feet long, and which fire projectiles of steel which weigh a thousand pounds. To e one of these guns costs in the neighborhood of $50,000, and the Chinese are now just finishing their fourth gun of this kind. ‘Those completed have been tested, and shown equal to anything made in Europe or America, and the projectiles for the guns are made here. The Chinese, however, lil the other nations of the world, now be- Heve that these immense guns are not so good for defense and warfare on the sea as the smaller varieties, and they will build no more of them at present. Near these I saw some twenty-five-ton guns, and then visited the shops, where about 300 Chinamen were at work making the latest improved pat- terns of Armstrong rapid fring ns. I looked at a 4.7-inch gun of this kind which had just been completed, and was shown its working. It moved so easily that a baby could have almost worked it, and the Chi- nese foreman in eharge told me that they had just finished 4 dozen of these weapons, and that they were now working on some which would fire 100-pound shot. China has no scruples as to patents, and she gets now all of the latest improve- ments in war machinery and copies them here. There is no doubt about the great proved machinery, and doing successfully ell kinds of factory work under Chinese foremen! These are some of the wonders I saw at the great government arsenal near here to- day. Any one who thinks that China is asleep to what is going on im the modern world has only to visit one of its great govern- ment gum factories to be convinced of his mistake. I have spent some time at the gun works of the Washington navy yard, where are being built the guns for our largest warships. We pride ourselves upon them as a nation and consider them among the Gnest gun works of the world. Away out here in China there are similar foun- dries doing even more wonderful work, and that to a large extent with native- made machinery, and just now with Chi- nese iron and Chinese coal Of the two thousand wen employed in the Shanghai ‘works only two are foreigners, and these are consulting engineers, one of whom, Mr. N. E. Cornish, is an Englishman from Devonshire, who was for years connected with the great Armstrong gun works in England, and the other, Mr. Bunt, an Eng- lishman who not only knows how to run all kinds of machinery, but has invented several engines, and who, with Mr. Cornish, ts making many improvements in the Chi- m@se munitions of war over those of other mations. It was through Mr. Cornish that I was able to go over the gun works, and with him I had chats with the Chinese managers, foremen and workmen. Leaving the Hotel Des Colonies, in the foreign quarter of Shanghai, I rode in a jimriksha, pulled by two men, far out into the country. The day was cold, raw and rainy, but I decided to risk arrest by tak- ing my camera with me, and, wrapped in ofled silk, it lay between my legs as we Gashed through the muddy streets crowded With bare-legged coolies in hats as big as umbrellas and rain coats of a reddish brown jute, who were carrying heavy loads & Chinese Swell tn Winter Bonnet. swung on poles from their shoulders. We passed many women in blue gowns of wad- ded cotton, who hobbled along on the sides of their little feet through the mud with a knock-kneed gait, and met at every turn the ‘rikshas and sedan chairs of swell Chi- namen, whose eyes were so shrouded by their big black spectacles that they looked like Gargantuan brownies rather than scholarly Chinese. Many of these swells had on their winter bonnets of wadded silk and their clothes were of the brightest of reds, blues and greens. Their bonnets cov- ered the entire head and were fastenend under the chin in a wadded cloth which protected the neck and throat. They were so made that only the front of the face Was exposed to the weather, and they ex- tended out behind into a sort of a cape which fell to the waist and concealed their cues. The gowns of many of them were fur lined and the silk brocade of which they were made seemed more fit for a ball room than a rainy, muddy Chinese country Fide. Beside these rich worked the poorest of the poor. We passed scores of sweating men pushing freight wheelbarrows, each containing a load for a horse, and were jostied by the hundreds of other queer working characters who fill the ceuntry roads of China with as many travelgm as you will find on the roads approaching one of our little cities on a circus day. Just outside of the walls of the native city I passed a guard house filled with Chinese soldiers. The sun came out at the moment, and I attempted to photograph them. But when they saw the camera they scowled and went inside of the guard house. Not far from this I came to a fortification which I afterward learned was the bar- yacks of the troops which the viceroy keeps here to guard the arsenal and to protect Shanghal. A white wall, perhaps twenty feet high, surrounded them, and I could only see the great flags of black net work embroidered with red Chinese figures, twenty odd feet long, which floated from a pole above the tent of the commander. I @aw many soldiers, however, and I photo- graphed a good natured one who evidently did not undertsand what my camera was. These soldiers were dressed in all sorts of bright colors, and the uniform of many of them consisted of the brightest of blue cot- ton sacques, trimmed with black velvet and ornamented with red stripes. They wore ‘added cotton pantaloons, which they tucked {nto black short topped wadded cloth boots, and their heads were covered with stiff skull | caps of silk. They look entirely different | from the people about this part of China, and are much more muscular and are taller than the Chinamen we have in America. ‘They come from the interfor, and the best fighters among them are from the rebellious province of Hunan, where the insurrection Against the missionaries of a year or so ago mechanical ability of the Chinese. Here are two thousand men, who have been brought up on lines entirely different from those on which they are now working, and they make as expert workmen as our me- chanics, who ha’ had generations of hereditary descent and years of experience. A great part of the machinery used here was made by Chinamen, and Mr. Cornish An Engineer. tells me that he found that parts which he had thought it impossible for a China- man to turn out, and which he had ex- pected would have to be imported at great expense from Europe, had been made by these men from drawings. Some of them are so expert that only general directions and the knowledge of tbe results required need be given them, and they will straight- way make the designs and castings. I was shown one machine—I think it was for the rifling of some of the guns, though I am not sure as to this—which contained a screw of only three inches in diameter and thirty-five feet long, which was designed and cut by a Chinaman, and I took a time exposure of a yellow-faced Chinaman, who makes the finest of the improved sights of the Armstrong guns. The work is as delicate and as beautiful as that of a chmaker, and there is an improvement on the original, which this man has added. The rifling machine for the big guns would have cost $15,000 to import. These China- men were shown the drawings, and they made it for half that sum. It is so in near- ly every variety of machinery, and among the things now actually being made in these works are all sorte of modern pro- jectiles, from the revolver bullet up to great shots of steel weighing 1,000 pounds. They make cartridges from those fitted for a revolver to the kind required for a six-inch rifle, and I saw Chinamen drilling steel, cutting out grape shot and making brass cartridge cases from disks of metal and paid a visit to the warehouses, where I was shown the 200 different kinds of shot and shrapnel which are made here. They are now turning out about 30,000 pounds of shot a day, and they have made recent experiments with Chinese iron which demonstrate its superiority in some respects over any other fron of the world. No one knows much about the mineral resources of China. But coal and fron are said to exist in nearly every one of the eighteen states or provinces of the empire, and there have been some iron mines which have been worked for years. Up to this time, China has been importing the raw material for her arsenals, but she is now experimenting with her own supplies, and the manufacturing China of the future will probably be entirely independent of the rest of the world. The coal and iron for- mations of the province of Chili are said to be the largest in the world, and the product is unsurpassed. The iron now used here comes from the province of Hunan, in about the center of China, and some idea of its character may be learned from a test which was recently made here. A shot was cast of this iron for a three-inch rifle, and {ft was fired agairst a target with the same charge and the same gun in compe- tition with imported shot of steel. The target consisted of three iron plates an inch thick, interfeaved with boards of wood. The steel shot penetrated the target, but none of them went through it. The Chinese cast-iron shot passed clear through the target and w lost. The process of manufacture of the fron is not known at the arsenal. It comes here in the shape of iron plates or slabs, from half an inch to two inches thick, and I should say, at a guess, for I did not measure them, fifteen by twenty-five inches in size. I saw a great quantity of the ore lying outside of the foundry. It is of a reddish brown color, and looks much like some which we get from the Lake Superior mines. The pigs or slabs are laid down here at about twenty dollars a ton, or ten dollars a ton in gold, thus costing about half a cent a pound. Mr. Cornish tells me that the Chinese make castings of tron which would be con- sidered impossible in America. They will cast kettles as big as the largest American apple butter kettle, holding about as much fluid as an old-fashioned wash tub, and only a sixteenth of an inch thick. These kettles are wonderfully strong. You would think they would snap like glass, but they are thrown about as though they were made of copper, and are very hard to break. In the experiment above mentioned Mr. Cornish told me that he had no idea that the shot would go through the target, and he was disappointed in not being able to find it. He says the tron is far superior to the average European fron, and that he is satisfied that it is made with charcoal. It does not melt easily, however, and the foundries do not like it. There are hundreds of stesm engines of thourane {| THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MAY 5, 1894—-TWENTY PAGES. ‘all kinds in these works, and they are all managed by the Chinese. I saw one of four-hundred horse-power which was in charge of a boy and a youth of twenty-two, and I notice that numbers of these Chinese mechanics are under age. Some of them are old men, but it is hard to tell the age of a Chinaman, as they all shave, and there are few gray hairs. I it some time looking at the men putting up an engine of two thousand horse-power. It is of the most modern variety, and has cost a fortune. The immense furnaces burn gas, anda look into them would scare the re- gion out of any modern Shadrach, Mesh- ach and Abednego if the Viceroy of Nan- king care to play the part of the cruel Babylonian king of the Scriptures. These furnaces are controlled by two easily-moved levers, and a mistake would blow the whole into atoms. A Chinese engineer of about thirty has entire charge of them, and he stood for me beside the furnace doors while { took his picture. The steel works of this arsenal cover about four acres. The men are now ex- perimenting in making ingots for armor Plate, such as we turn out at Bethlehem, and they are putting in a steel furnace which will smelt fifteen tons of steel at one time. If it is a success, they will add others. They have made some small in- gots, and I saw some steel rails for rail- roads which they turned out the other day to show the Chinese authorities that they could make them. They do all sorts of forging. They are now putting in a seven- hundred-ton steel press, which will exert a force of two thousand tons on the ore beneath it. I saw it steel mers forging out immense lumps of steel, and I was surprised at the wonderful way in which these people handle all sorts of metal and machinery. There is never a pegrans and the men are on hand every time. What I saw today has removed from my mind all doubt as to the ability of the Chinese to construct and manage modern machinery, and I question much whether they have not the germs of a creative ability, which, under proper conditions, might produce as great inventions today as the Chinese mind has done in the past. The compass, gunpowder and printing originated here, and we may have a Chi- nese Edison in the future. I asked ques- tions of Mr. Cornish concerning this, as we walked through the works, and he told me that several of the mechanics had improved upon the original models which had been imported, and I saw a machine for cutting steel which a friend of Li Hung Chang had adapted to the making of candle wicks, and which, by his favor, he was running with the arsenal power. Said Mr. Cornish: “The lack of inventors in China m come from there .being no patent law. These men tell me they don’t care to work at getting up new things, because their neighbors will steal their id Besides, you must remember that the Chinese mind has for years run in other directions. A mechanic is not of much account here, and the man who can write a three line poem or can quote Confucius would be thought more of than any inventor. Tupper, the poet, had he been born in China would have outranked an Edison, and the literati look down on such work as beneath them.” I did not have time yesterday to visit the powder works where the Chinese are making all sorts of powder from the brown cocoanuts which are used for the heavy guns to the small black grains which are used for the modern rifles, but I saw sam- ples of the powder and Mr. Cornish says there is a chemist now on his way from Germany to China, who will teach them how to make the smokeless powder which has been recently invented. I asked as to the hours of work and the wages of the men. Mr. Cornish replied “It is a curious thing that we have an eight-hour law in existence in these works and our employes work fewer hours perhaps than in any other native establishment in China. The men begin work at 7:30 a.m. and work until 11:30. Then they have an hour for lunch and work on until 4:30. In case of necessity, however, of war or other- wise, we could work them almost twice that long and we could add to the force largely without much trouble. Our mechanics get from three to six Mexican dollars a week, or from a dollar and a half to three dollars a week in your currency. The very best of the foremen receive as high as eighty dollars a month, and under foremen get about thirty-five Mexican dollars a month. Our possible supply of labor 1s, of course, unlimited.” “By the way," continued Mr. Cornish, “I suppose the eight-hour rule came from the fact that this establishment was originally organized by an American who came here a score and more of years ago and was em- ployed by the Chinese to run it. He ran it so well that he made a fortune out of it, and for this reason it was taken out of his hands. The Chinese don’t object to money being made, provided they make it them- selves, and they saw that Mr. Falls was getting rich very fast. They now handle the thing themselves and if there are any fat contracts or squeezes to be made it is a Chinaman who has charge of them.” At this moment one of the officers of a Chinese naval vessel came in to see about getting two six-inch guns for his ship, which was lying at the arsenal wharf, and with him we took a trip over a Chinese man-of-war. But of this I wiil write in another letter. Fk A, Cant Baby’s Compliment. From Happenchance. His father and mother were both away, And baby and I had been friends all day; Many and guy were the games we played, Baby ordered and I obeyed— We cared not at all for the rainy sky, We built us « block house three feet high; We threw pine knots on the nursery fire And watched the flames mount higher and higher, We hid tn the most improbable nooks, We looked at the pictures in all his books; We ran in ‘‘tag’’ till his cheeks were red. And bis curls Were tangled about his bead, Mo when the twilight was closing down Over the flelds and woodlands brown, And nurse declared we must say good He clung to me still in the soft frelight. He trampled tay gown with his rough Uitle feet, He climbed on my lay issed me sweet, Aud, as he scrambled from off my knee, “You'd make a good mother,” said baby to ma, Ihave had compliments now and then From up women and grown-up mem tom were commonplace, soe were BeW, Never was one of them rung so true, Never was one seemed half so real; his ideal! compared me to . @. LAWRENCE. +02 Readers for Cigar Makers. “Literature and tobacco go together in Key Wes said a citizen of that tight little island to a Star reporter. “Every cigar fac- tory has its regularly employed reader, who comes to work with the rest of the people im the morning and reads to them all day.” “Who pays the reader?” “The work people. A small amount is deducted for this purpose from the wages of each employe. The plan is adopted by the manufacturers as an economical exped- lent. 1t keeps the workers from talking and so prevents interruption of their labor.” “But why should not the work people roll cigars and talk at the same time?” “Because they cannot talk without gestic- ulating. That wouldn’t do at all, you see. Besides,the reader, by engaging the atten- Vee of the hands, prevents quarrels among em."” ————_+e+—_____ The Martyred Fat Man. From Hello. “Hoopis! That's a fine apring-boara!’ ELLEN'S MERRY MOURNING, —_—_—o—_—. Hizabeth W. Champney in Romance. O ONE WHO HAD driven through the lodge-gate and had noticed the merry face of Ellen, the gatekeeper, would be Mikely soon to forget it, She usually wore @ pink calico dress, which was scrupu- lously neat and fitted her trim figure to a T. Her ribbons were pink, and the chil- Gren declared that her hair was pink also. It was really a very pretty shade of light red, and it crinkled in a bewitching way. What a charming picture she made, framed by the arehed window, the gray stone covered closely with luxuriant ivy! She was always smiling, and had a gay word of repartee for her fellow-servants; a deferential but cheerful greeting for her s.periors; jokes and amusing stories for the children; and when all alone she sang the jolliest Irish songs and ballads, with a laughing lilt in her voice, which was so ir- resistible that the guests at the villa often sat for hours on the veranda, where un- known to her, they could hear Ellen sing. Altogether she was the most lighthearted, merry little woman you ever saw, and we were all surprised to see her appear on Sun- @ay in full widows’ weeds. We met her just returning from church, and remarked on the exuberance of health and spirit display- ed by the sablerobed figure, though we did not at first recognize it. Through the folds of the heavy crape veil I saw a glint of the red-gold hair, and there was something in her buoyant step which recalled the meas- ure of those Miting chorus: I believe she was thinking them over and keeping time to their beat and swing as she walked. I suspected at once that this was no ordinary widow bowed down by a heavy weight cf woe, and when O'Flaherty, thé coachman, turned on his box and threw her a kiss es we passed, we also turned and saw the crape veil thrown back and Ellen’s rosy face framed by a coquettish widow's cap. ‘Is Ellen in grief?” I asked. “Not at all,” my hostess answered, laugh- ing; “she is only in deep mourning and en- it very much."* ‘Some distant relative, I presume, who has left her money? “On the contrary, it is in honor of her husband, to whom she was very tenderly attached, and for whom she has resisted the most persistent attentions of lovers through two long years of widowhood. Is it not so, O'Flaherty?” The privileged coachman coughed and chuckled, “It’s about so, mum,” he admit- ted. “Why, she “Ellen a widow!” I exclaimed. is the merriest jade I ever saw. You are talking in riddles; will you be kind enough to explain your meaning?” “Ellen must tell you,” my friend replied, and that afternoon I strolled down to the lodge intent on unraveling the mystery. Ellen wore a neat black sateen, flecked with a tiny white figure resembling snow flakes. Muslin cuffs were folded back from her wrists in the most approved style, and the specks of rubber earrings in her rosy ears were matched by a spot of court plaster on her dimpled chin; English violets and a black foided handkerchief were tucked in her belt. Ellen was evidently still sustaia- ing her character as a bewitching iittle widow. We had had some previous conver- sation, and I soon made an opportunity of telling her that I was sorry to hear of her bereavement. “Oh, yes, mum,” she admitted, “I felt very bad intirely—for a spell. It’s a dread- ful thing, mum, to lose one’s husband, and I hope you will never suffer the likes.” I felt not a little indignant at Ellen’s show of grief, for the minx looked so com- plecent in her widow's weeds that I was sure that whatever she might have suffered Was more than made up to her by a sense of their becomingness. I fancied, too, that as I entered the lodge, I had seen O'Fla- herty, the coachman, sneak out of the back door, and I could not help saying rather spitefully: “Time brings consolations, El- len, and I should not be surprised if you married a second time.” A look of real pain and indignation came into Ellen’s face. “Niver, mum. Do you think I could marry any one else but my own Terry! Shure, it’s mistaken you are, the saints forgive you! Why, we niver quarreled but once, and that was the day I lost him. It’s many’s the bitter tear I've shed for that.” I saw that Ellen was in earnest, and felt that I did not quite understand this odd mixture of loyalty and vanity. “Tell me about it,” I said, as kindly as I could. “How did you lose your husband?” “It was this way, mum,” Ellen explain- ed. hen we were first married I was a waitress at the house an’ Terence was under-gardener, an’ oh, mum, we were that happy an’ comfortable until the misthress’ sister came to spend the summer here an’ brought a peck of misery for us in all thim Sarah-togy thrunks of hers, bad luck to her! Mrs. Deiacey her name was, a Stoilish young widder, who never wasted many tears on her husband, but made up for that with her bumbazines or her grinny- dines, the Chany crapes you could pull through a gould ring; an’ the silky, slinky stuff they call foolhardy.” “Foolhady? I never heard of any euch material, Ellen. I have it! You must mean foular “Well, be it fool hard or fool soft, I know not. I‘only know that she made a fool of ivery man that came nigh her, the crayther! an’ I was as foolish as a man over her gowns. I unpacked her dresses for her an’ hung 'em up in the closets, an’ all that avenin’ I was goin’ on to Terence about thim gowns till I misthrust he was sick of hearin’ me, for he answered me cross-like. You know how men is, mum, the misthress tells me you have a husband yourself. Well, I niver took no warnin’, but kept on tellin’ him how the butler tould me that whin Mrs. Delacey wore her black Brussels net, with the black pearls on her snowy neck, at the Vanderbilt's ball the Juke of what’s-his-name, he says, ‘Who is that raquiem in lace? says he, ‘shinin’ out like a snowflake forninst a chimney stack.’ “-What's a raquiem? says Terry. ‘It's a song they sing at a wake,’ says I, ‘an’ the juke said it must be very flatterin’ to her husband to know that such a lovely young crayther was mournin’ for him in such foine style. ‘Mournin’ ts becomin’,’ says I, ‘I'd like to wear it myself. It must be a great consolation to a widder. If you should die, Terry,’ says I, ‘I wouldn’t spare the money on black stuff for you.’ “You'd be glad enough for the chance,’ says he, ‘on’ that stuck-up butler, too. Niver you let me hear you speak of him agin, or it's the four eyes of you both that T'll put in mournin’,’ says he. “It was the butler, mum, that made the throuble betwixt us more than the mourn- in’. The misthress niver would have had a man in the house doin’ woman’s work, but Mrs. Delacey she brought him from the city along with her new-fangled fashions, an’ shure he needed more waitin’ on than any of the aristocracy, orderin’ round the other servants an’ drivin’ the cook wild wid the French dishes he was always a suggestin’. But mind you, he didn’t order me at all, at all. Quite contrairy, the vil- lain, he was always blarneyin’ me hair an’ me eyes, an’ sayin’ as how he would like to see me in one of Mrs. Delacey’s dresses, for he was sure I would be purtier in it than her leddyship herself. An’ whither it was that he axed his misthress for me I don’t know, but what did Mrs. Delacey do but give me one of her old black gowns. Now, though I was dyin’ to see myself in it, I was that feared of Terry that I didn’t dare put {it on, until one day it happened that the masther sent him to Jerome Park with one of the horses, an’ he was to be gone three days, an’, as good luck would have it, my third cousin’s wife had just died, so, av coorse, I had the opportunity I wanted of wearin’ the black dress to the funeral. Now, whin we started for the buryin’, who should I see at the door with the masther’s buggy but the butler. ‘An’ will you ride with me, Ellen?’ says he. ‘Shure I’ve come all the way to take you, seein’ I knew Terry was away,’ says he. “ ‘Oh,’ says I, ‘I'm not goin’ to the bury- in,’ says I, for I didn't like to ride with him at all, at all. ‘Thin let me take you home,’ says he, ‘for it's a good piece to the villa, an’ you're tired with footin’ if her “T'll not be afther goin’ home fust yet,’ says I. ‘I'll stay wid the childer an’ get supper against my cousin comes home from the cimetrary,’ says I, thinkin’ that with that he would be off without me. But thi was the very worst thing I could have done, for he just waited around, the cray- ther, an’ with the people bein” late back from the buryin’, an’ insistin’ that I should stay to supper, it was near dark whin I started for home. An’ there was the butler a-waitin’ for me, but I wouldn't ride with him, but just took my cousin's eldest boy for compary, an’ cut through the pine woods a short way. But, as bad luck would have it, I came out on the highway an’ went the boy back just afther the butler, who had driven round by the road an’ hed stopped at every saloon on the way, passed by, so that he drove through the lodge gate not two minutes before I came home, an’ who should sit there but Terry, lookin’ as black as a thunder-cloud. “Well, I was surprised enough to see him, an’ he saw it. “ ‘So I've caught you,’ says h been ridin’ with the butler,’ an’ tl denied it, the madder he got. ‘ do you mane by dressin’ yourself up like @ widdy? says he. ‘If you want to be widdy, it’s not I that will be hinderin’ you. “With that he took his hat, an’ left the lodge. It had looked like rain all the da: an’ there came on a fearful storm in the night, an’ I dared not put foot outside the house, thinkin’ he'd come back in the mornin,, But when two days went by, an’ he niver came, the masther came to the lodge to see where he was, an’ there was great huntin’ an’ searchin’ for him in all the neighborhood. All we could find was that he had taken a little boat to row across the bay, an’ most likely the squall had overturned it, for it was found floatin’ far out, bottom upward, but Terry or his body we never found. “Thim were the sorrowfulest days o’ my life, mum. The misthress was very kind to me, an’ come often to see me an’ wanted me to stay all the time at the house in- stead of spendin’ my nights so lonely at e lodge. But I wouldn’t do it, for I thought maybe Terry was not dead, after all, an’ if he came back some avenin’ he should find the windy lighted an’ the sup- per waitin’. “‘My poor Ellen,’ says the misthress, ‘don’t disave yourself, for he is dead for sure and certain.’ “In my heart I was near belavin’ her, but I kept up courage on the outside until the end of summer, whin the family wint away to the city, an’ left the place all lonely for the winter. The butler called last of all, bringin’ with him a great bun- dle. “This came by express for you from New York,’ says he. “I cut the string, an’ saw it was a parcel of black gown! ““Whoiver sint these to me? says I. ‘Belike it is Mrs. Delacey,’ says the butler, ‘She wint down to New York a week ago, 8a: he. vith that I burst out cryin’ an’ tied thim up again, and tould him to carry thim back to his misthress. “You can’t belave that Terry is still livin’,’ says he. ‘An’ you ought to do him the dacent thing by dressin’ as a widdy ought. A great consolation you'll find it, says he, ‘an’ I'll put a weed in my own hat to show my respect.’ “* ‘An’ how do I know that I am a widdy? Shure it’s not the likes of you, Dinnis O'Leary, that will make me belave he's dead,’ says I. “ ‘Shure, who will you belave? says he. not me alone, but the whole community he's dea "Il not belave any one but Terry,’ says I. ‘Not till Terry himself tells me that he's dead will I belave myself a widdy.’ “ ‘Sure, I niver before wished the appay- rence of a ghost,’ says the butler, ‘but here's to the speedy comin’ of the sperrit, Mrs. Terry, an’ whin next summer comes, I thrust I may find you settin’ your pretty cheeks off with a crape veil, like a rayson- able Christian, resigned to the doin's of Providence." “With that he took himself and the bundle off, an’ it was a long an’ lcnesom> winter spent in the little lodge, with no neighbors but the dairyman and his family, who stayed to take care of the cows, for U other servants had gone to the city with the family. I earned some money helpin’ make the butter, an’ I was puttin’ it by whin I heard that Terry’s ould feyther and mither were to be sent to the poor house, an’ I had thim brought to the lodge, an’ I nursed the old feyther to his grave, an’ the ould mither back to health again. Thin the spring came, but I can’t say that I was glad to see it, for I knew that the family would come back, an’ the butler, an’ that he would be afther botherin’ me again. An’ bother me he did, an’ so did the whole parish, for first he sent a stonecutter man to me to put up @ gravestone to Terry, an’ the praste him- sel’ tould that I ought to be havin’ pray. ers said to get him out of purgatory, an’ the tavern keeper brought me a bill that Terry had been runnin’ up unbeknownst to me for whisky, an’ I saw'that it began from the time that the butler came to the villa, an’ like as not it was because of the trouble betwixt us. An’ while I was castin’ about in my mind which I should pay first, the tavern keeper or the praste, and how I should get the money to pay either, comes the butler again—an’, ‘Mrs. Terry,’ says he, ‘shure it's little we all see you care for your husband's mimory, or you wouldn't grudge him the bit of crape that tells of mournin’. Thim that mourns shall be comforted, but maybe it's right you are, for faith Terry not worth the grievin’.’ ith that I grew angry. ‘An’,’ says I, ‘it's none of your comfortin’ I want in any case, Dinnis O'Leary, an’ what nade have I to shpend on the mournin’ whin my heart is in crape for him all the day long, an’ it’s better I should save his credit in this wurrid an’ the nixt by payin’ his debts an’ the toll rates from purgatory than shpendin’ on my own dressin’.’ “With that the crayther saw that hope had well nigh lift me, an’ says he, ‘What's the need of your slavin’ in this way, Mrs. Terry? Teddy had his life insured in your favor, an’ there's a matter of six hundred dollars awaitin’ your call, which gvill clear off all debts, an’ lave you a rich widdy. An’ what's the money got to do with your dress- in’, ayther? For here is this bundle of black dresses, which Mrs. Delacey did not send you at all, says ‘an’ it's not I that will be afther nooks! such a prisent from you.’ “But he denied it by all the saints, an’ left the bundle in the door, an’ I put it on the top shelf in the closet, I still mistrustin’ that he had bought thim himsel’, an’ that the truth would out at last. Well, thin, I considered an’ considered the matter of the insurance, but whin I thought that if I had to shwear, as the butler said I must, to get the money, that to the best of my belafe an’ wish that Terry was dead to all intints and purposes, dead for sure an’ all, wid no hope of any resurrection, so far as this wurrld was concemed, it seemed to me that I was sellin’ the bit of hope that I had lived all these months on, an’ I couldn't do it. So, how I don’t know, but that summer I lived through, an’ a woful one it was. I pald Terry’s debts, an’ I had the masses said, an’ I was considerin’ an fligant marble shtone for the buryin’ ground, the which I meant to have earned to pay for by New Year, for the misthress had lift me plenty of work to do. Whin a gurl in Ireland, the nuns had taught me to embroider an’ to mark linen, an’ the misthress had lift me a pile of sheets an’ pilly cases an’ napkens an’ towels to work her mony; on, an’ pleasant it was to sit by the foire wid the ould mither an’ think that with every jet- ther I was makin’ I was payin’ for the cu tin’ of another on Terry's tombstone. An’ I determined not to stint the epytaph, but to give him a good long one, settin’ down all his vartues, an’ it should read somethin’ like this: “ ‘Here lies the body of TERRY O’FLAHERTY. Which is not buried here, havin’ been found, he havin’ been “at one dark gd in é wherry.’ was more like 0. said ‘wherry’ for the poetry), vom Due “ ‘He was the kindest an’ best - bands an’ fellows, barrin’ a bit quicken Pered an’ a thrifle jealous. His widdy €rects this monyment as a New Year pris- an’ that she will ent to testify her woe, dead till he comes an’ never belave him tells her so,” “It was a beautiful idea, but I niver had the monyment put up, the raison bein’ that one night, as I worked by the fire, an’ the ould mither nodded in the chair, I see a face at the windy, an’ I held out my arm: at it an’ called, ‘Terry, Terry!’ an’ fainted dead away, an’ whin I came to my right singes, an’ was wonderin’ whether it was Terry's ghost come to tell me I was a widdy, I felt myself held in his two strong arms, an’ by the same token I knew it was Terry hin self. “Well, we laughed, an’ we cried, an’ we hugged each other, an’ we went nearly crazy intirely, an’ he tould me how it was wild he was the night he wint away, an’ how he had rowed out to a sailin’ vessel that was bound to Calcutty by the way of the Cape of Hope, determined for to lave me free to be a widdy, if I lotked; but how that the ould love the longin’ were too strong for him intirely, an’ he set out to come back again, but was detained by a matter of two or three shipwricks, an’ so he had not touched shore till that very mornin’. An’ how all the way he had been tormented wid the fear that I might have belaved him dead an’ have married the butler, an’ so he had bethought him that he would look in at the windy, an’ if he saw me dressed in black, he would belave me rtill a widdy an’ come; but whin he saw me in pink, it near took his sinses away, for he, thought sure I had done niver , BEAUTY IS Cosmetics Do Not Beautify But Often beautifying the complexion, destroy even a healthy skin ‘natural rosy and healthy complexion cannot be Lad by the use these commnetics, but only through the health of the body in era), and nothing is better tosecure this result than the genuine ~ Ported Carlsbad Spradel Salt, when taken early in themorning bes sore breakfast, about half « teaspoonfal, dissolved in « tumblerful of NO INHERITANCE, Destroy a Healthy Complexion. ren- im- Produced by the City of Carlsbad by the evapors- tion of the Carlsbad Sprudel water, is always effective in all disorders of the stomach, liver and Kidneys, For habitual constipation, gouty and rheumatic affections itis without equal. It clears the complexion and Produces a healthy color. Be sure to obtain the genuine article, which has the signature of *“Risner & Men- delson Co., Agents, N. Y,," on every bottle. Price, bottle $1.00; large size. $1.50. of a prisent did I bring her but my- Did you niver get the iligant gowns I sint you from New York? The ship put in there before we set out on our voyage, an’ I thought what a pleasure you would take intirely wid wearin’ of the weeds.’ “Oh, Terry!’ says I, ‘an’ was it you that sint them? I thought they were from the butler, an’ here they’ve been lyin’ all the time, for niver a rag of them would I put on at all, at all.” “With that he had me put on one of the dresses, an’ he said it was too bad I should have deprived myself of one of the privi- leges of my widdyhood whin I had the chance, especially as he was now con- vinced that this w: the only privilege I cared for, an’ now his comin’ home must not be the slightest hindrance to my pleas- ure, an’ I must wear them for his sake, as they were the only New Year prisent he had for me. “An’ when I came to consider, it seemed only right an’ proper I should do so, for shure no man deserved more to be mourn- ed for, an’ here was a matter gf nearly two years, when I ought to have mourned for him, that I ¢idn’t, an’ shure hadn't I given my word to the butler that I would wear mournin’ for Terry when Terry him- self came back an’ tould me to? “So that is the explanation of the whole conundrum, an’ you may ask Terry himself if it isn’t a merry mournin’ to him as well as io me.” “Shure, mum, it’s that same,” said Ter- ence O'Flaherty, and the coachman, who had lounged into the lodge in time to hear the last part of the recital, took his little wife upon his knee and, imprinting a rous- ing smack on her rosy cheek, added—“an’ it’s not permitted to every man to have pleasure of consolin’ his own widdy. a bit sel’. 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This is posst- ble by ordering them in large quantities and depending on the “nimble siz- pence rather than the slow shilling.” Fit- ted gratis and guaranteed sat- istactory or Plenty Heat From A mournin’ for him, an’ how he was about to turn away whin I saw him an’ called him, an’ thin come in he had to, right through the sash of the windy, even were it to murther the butler. ‘But how is it," says Terry, ‘that you've not been doin’ me the respect of wearin’ black for me as a widdy should, an’ mournin’ so becomin’ to you?’ says he. ‘Whisht, Terry,’ says the ould mither, ‘what money had she to buy mournin’? whin she's been buryin’ your feyther, an’ payin’ my docther, an’ your tavern bilis, an’ the praste for prayin’ you out of pur- gatory, let alone the fligant new tomb- stone she was preparin’ for a New Year prisent,’ says she. “‘A New Year prisent,’ says Terry, ‘an’ I im such @ hurry to come home Gas Range —while turned on, but at the touch of the “screw’’ the heat’s off—and on again the instant you touch a match to it. 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