Evening Star Newspaper, August 11, 1894, Page 15

nn THE ORIGIN OF LAMPS! Primitive Methods of Making and | Using Artificial Light, | EAHIBIT AT THE NATIOKAL MUSEUM. Curious and Artistic Forms of An- cient Light Vessels. | | height. yee \ THE TORCH OF THE INDIAN | | ee Witton Exclusively for The Evening Star. HE “oLuTION | ~ and Development of | Artiticial Light” is a new object lesson for the public at the Na- tional Museum. Of all the myriads of he exhibits whic! to | into Uncle Sam's vsity shop since of his from the removal exhibit there of great Chicago is no group objects which more thoroughly impresses the com- mon beholder than this new creation which Mr. Walter Hough, the assistant curator of the department of ethnology, has but just now mpleted, after many days of study and toil. In the east hall, among the varl- ous t X showing the rise of man, this new occuples several cases on the raat For many years Mr. Hough has made a careful study of the interesting subject. having collected many relics in its Kine during his travels in the old continent, but net until the confusion of the recent reorganization had passed did the oppor- tunity appear when he « get together in series the many torches, lanterns and lamps distributed among the various de- partments and combine them with the new acquisitions. In the long serfes which has led up to our present lighting systems America appears | at both ends of the string. Just as the | American arc light is the highest conception | of the daylight maker, the torch of the In- dian has been found to be the crudest effort ever made by man to count the inches be- fore his nose tn the darkness. se torches: were naught but fat pine twigs, twisted to- gether, ani set on fire by sparks created by the friction of two pieces rk or board. But as ¢ savage bri his meat on Wooden spits over his bonfire he noticed that | the fa clinging to wood caused it to | flame more brightly. so he made the first | toward candle making by greasing pine | and afterward by sticking torches | through the bodies of fish or birds, a custom which still prev: the no Alaska. iis among the natives of thwest coast and the Esquimaux of dle. South Sea Islands the nuts on stict savages which are kept : wrapped in palm leaves, while the early English end Scandinavians dipped he heated fat and afterward wrapped | is of wax—hence the growti | and wax candle. The first use andie in China and Japan, however, is obscurity. The use of the candle in t countries may be dated from the introduction.of domestic animais and honey of bees i he territory Likewtse, the lamp is fougd In its crudest form am the aborigines of this country. | The FE: naux found on the beach a stone | with a natural ession in it, which he | filled with seal fat, This ts nd used a moss wick. » repeated among the eartiest sof other count the next step in | * direction of a globular vessel for oli | « the irregular earthen saucer, while in America turnips have m found hol- | lowed cut for this purpose, and among the Pennsylvania Dutch th primitive form crops up today in the use of the tin pan, with a tallow wick. Mr. Hough traces the & Roman a tlegy of the lamp next through a long | stry, beginning with the rough clay bow!s filied With oil, with a wick hang- g against the side. Then the potter one pinched a corner in the soft undried 1, and found that to be a good resting for the wick, and this protuberance useful as a handle, so two one on either side. A more tion shows the spout’ sep- f the vessel, there be- ting with the oil inside. grew curled, lke a little | aily appears the Roman centuries was in vogue t dog's tail. Jamp, which for throuzhout the east, lighting the lusty war- riers to bed when they came in late, and, perchance, heating the curling trons of Cleops Artistic Forms of Lamps. ns continued to tmprove the anufacture of the sam: an artists with on the beau in Mr. He found ar rk tection, where | seis shaped in all . Some Fepresent- , fish, ete., it f el apport of a fre branch whos: spout and hi own seme of the | aristi of the e* the dark rry cav- were forced to live. 1 eartheaware, fash- lamps of earlier | same nozzle and handle, the being that the ornamenta- of designs in which some Christianity was wrought. The sull later vary in the number from ene to a dozen, in < series of Roman has 150 specimens. he Lantern Form. | Where the wick does not extend. | ish family in Illnots. | at Oxford, England, among the bakers, who | | st for the wick, the whole supported on | doctor also uses the joss stick, broken tnto THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 1 1894—TWENTY PAGES, use the saucer of ofl with a rush cr pith wick, going back to ancient methods. Some Quaint Forms. ‘The Chinese never manufacture folding lanterns, their patterns being mostly of large flat sheets of waxed paper or glass, decorated with highly colored figures of dragons and other mythological designs. Mr. Hough also shows a beautiful Chinese feathered chandelier manufactured of many colored feathers set in with gilt, the main body representing a palace with banners and bangles hanging down from every point. From this miniature house six arms hang over, suspending as many swinging lamps, the whole being about four feet in ‘That the paper lantern was intro- duced to the world back in the ages and has not always remained in the flowery and celestial kingdoms seems _probabie, inasmuch as Mr. Hough has discovered an ancient Egyptian painting showing the fig- ure of a man bearing a paper lantern, no- ticeably Japanese. The paper lantern how- ever, has never been found in early ruins on account of its fragility. An old Eg: tian harem lantern recently sent from Chi- cago 1s a peculiar contrivance consisting of three bottle like vessels with glass tubes in their centers, around which wicks are wrapped, water being used under the oil The top handle of this lamp ts of bronze inlaid with silver punched work, which bears indica- tions of at least a hundred years. ‘The United States lamp has a mixed his- tory on account of its cosmopolitan owners, so Mr. Hough has been able to trace its ancestry generally back to Europe. A favorite pattern of the early Pennsylvania Dutch was the iron pot lamp with a curved handle chained to a hook spike, which was driven into the wall, generally alongside an open fireplace. This type is called the Sechmutze lamp. The “petticoat lamp" of Massachusetts, used about ninety years ago, is also in the American group and is so called because the lard oil reservoir is Set upon a hollow conical stand, resem- bling @ petticoat. After the lard oil lamp in this country came in order the spirit lamps, the ethereal oll lamps, the petro- leum lamps, and last the gas burner and electric light Curiositie: Lamps. One of the cases containing this new col- lection ts devoted entirely to curiosities which cannot be placed in any chrono- logical order. Among these fs a small lan- tern, brgught over by Mr. Hough from Madrid, where he found it used by the snail hunters’ Two other small ones from Seville were used by the cavaliers, who ng them on thetr stiffy waxed mus- taches. A few days ago two lamps from different contributors unexpectedly arrived | by express at the museum, and being exact- ly alike, created considerable curiosity among the curators. They are both brass, resembling small coffee pots, the bodies being shaped like inverted funnels. One is from Belgium, and the other from a Flem- In this case is also to be seen a common brick, with a hole dug in one end, filled with fat, a piece of | tag furnishing the wick. This was found use this cheap method of lighting alto- gether. There is here also a Flemish tinder box shaped like a dipper, with a long handle; a bronze candlestick from Damascus, and a terra cotta candlestick from Italy, with the figure of a reclining Bacchus holding up the socket. There is also a box of floats for night light tapers, quite common fifty years ago. Another feature is a “Sticking Tommy,” consisting of an tron candlestick with two sharp prongs at right angles, one being used to stick the contrivance into the wall, and the other to fasten it to the top of a table or mantelpiece. These are still used on board fishing vessels. There ts also a round tinder box from New Bed- ford, with its supply of candle molds, tal- low dips and other articles, on which peo- ple depended for Nght a half century ago. Dr. Tarleton H. Bean contributed to this ection an odd old lamp which he used ty years ago In Pennsylvania, and to Its king, flaring light we owe much of the valuable Information given us in his valu- able studies in ichthyology. It is of tin, with an oblong bowl Containing an orifice for filling the basin with oil, and a long an upright standard. Scores of other strange freak lamps are piled one upon the other In this case. Used to Mark Time. This most interesting group relating to lght includes the subdivision, “timekeeping by light and ft Mr. Hough says, in this connection, that the use of fire and light for messuring time ts an almost unnoticed ct in the history of timekeeping. The ily nuts described in the early history of torches Is here referred to again, the night ing divided off by the Pacific Islanders in as mary periods as it takes the fire to con- am? a ceftain number of nuts. In China the prescribed time during which the royal procession at the coronation of the em- Peror must move between the palace and the temple ts regulated by the burning of a Joss stick of a certain length. The Chinese cy several angles, to mark the time when his patient must take his medicine. Chinese messengers who have but a short perlod of sleep awake themselves by placing a short e of Joss stick between their toes. jay the Chinese palace clock ts an oll- ed paper lantern, inclosing a hemp rope soaked in niter, divided into four parts by cords tied to it. Jime ts announced from this by a lantern’ placed before the king's : ‘ing transparent slides on which is marked. A spectmen of the candle, with all of the hours marked upon it, is also to be seen there. ee age ee On the Beach. the Independent. the soa flowers thrive on the grassy crag, ptossing In sun-winds cach delicate head! Do they wateh the gulls that on or lag? Do they watel the dawn and the evening red? ims round the recurtl ifting dune LONG AND SHORT The Question of Size in the Prefer- ences of the Sexes, ADMIRERS OF BIG AND LITTLE WOMEN Traits of Disposition and the Dif- ferences in Stature. TONGUES LIKE NEEDLES ee usky ard steaming Ingune? splendid sky? Does the ben mourn as °, > the flowers despair In the g weather? ¥ woo th 1, while the somber bee gay buttertly sip, and toss up together. torn shamed for her rusty votce? , vx and the best om the earth; It ts rare wholly her chotce, Ags ts, 1a clamorous mirth, nat his tinted bill the bar; pose fultilt, ‘and gar. Gb, the ma in these! And tiv palm tree and oak; With strengths of the lands, and ounding seas, Strengths of the winds, ami the ligh “a stroke. LIZA WOODWORTH. see A Costly Bed. From the Evening Wisconsin, A Bombay man has constructed a bed- stead priced at 10,00) rupees. It has at tts Tks lant being las a means of pr ss cand be « next In Or < it by > i) iv a ta th v ar sin is the gifu pended outed front of Japane hou This has a “lt attached to tt, with a strip of paper honging to its clapper, which makes the bell Jingle when the wind blows. | four corners four full-sized gaudily dressed an dara: while t on the neath the cot is a must- nds along the whole os t charming a je moment the jeast pr is to beer a the top, which is by ene sle s and © mor he ™ nt th sic is the bh ree A Rare Stamp. lence Tos! be ction of publie tn- Muse It those at the head holding | ht and left | Writtea Exclusively for The Evening Star. OME OVER HERE and I'll introduce you to Miss Blank,” said a man to his friend, as they were loung- ing on the veranda of the biz summer hotel. 3 “No, I am much obliged,” said he,“but 1 would rather not.” “Why, are you afraid of her? She ts quite harmiess.”” “That isn't 1 the other, “she is too tall." “Why, you are a tall man yourself. What's the matter with her being tall? “Well, I tell you I don’t like tall women, that’s all there is about it, and I suppose there is no use in trying to account for it.” And It Is a fact that this man never meets a tall woman, tf he can help it, never walks with one, or talks with one, and swears positively that he will never marry one. Inasmuch as he is a bachelor close on to fifty years old, it ig highly probable that he will keep this promise, and may exceed his con- tract by not marrying at all. It is a strange thing about the size of women. Mankind may be seid generally to be divided into two classes—those that like short women and those that ‘like tali women. There is another small faction that don’t like any women, but it need not be taken Into account, because there are so few people belonging to it. If you are a bachelor you will probably find that the different women you have been in love with and have proposed to have been of moderately uniform height. There nay been a few inches of difference be- tween them, but not a foot. They were tall women or they were short women. They Were not tall women and short women. Now, that is a general rule, but there ure exceptions to it, and the exceptions rather prove It. You may remember your love af- fairs thus. The first girl who refused you Was a tall blonde, the second was a shcrt brunette, the third, fourth and fifth were all tall. Whom are you in love with now? Why, another tall girl. Which one of the girls who rejected you did you care for the least? Why the short brunette, and you may be able to tell yourself that you pro- posed to her by accident, or because circum. stances so placed you that you conceived it to be proper that you should propose and were very happy at being rejected. mall Men and Big Women. If you doubt the rule still, stop and re- flect upon the various men of your ac- quaintance who have married twice. If wife No. 1 was short depétd upon it that wife No, 2 1s short, too. It has always been sald that small men love big women, and vice versa, and the eld showman in Dickens’ story, * “hops, the Dwarf,” gave tt as his experience that dwarfs always fell in love with the siant- esses in a museum, and that this was good for the trade, since it prevented the propa- gation of too many dwarfs, and thus kept them the curiosities that they were. Never- theless, there have been a good many mar- riages between dwarts. Gen. and Mrs. Tom Thumb were both dwarfs. Gen. Tot mar- ried Lucia Zerati, and neither of them was a yard high. Similar instances could be multiplied, but these marrlages, like a good many other marriages among larger peo- ple, are for show purposes, and the dwarf husband ts quite certain to be flirting with women who are almost big enough to swal- low the litue adorer as though he were a capsule. Giants also are Ikely to marry small wo- men, but they do not run to the same ex- tremes-as the dwarfs do in their love af- fail It is not recorded that the celebrated Neva Seotla giantess had any husband, nor are museum fat women happy in having many adorers, except, perhaps, among pro- fessional living skeleton when the ludi- creus side of the case es it impossible that the passion should be mutual. Now, this general rule about tall women and short women can be sald to apply in a modified degree with respect to the feelings that women entertain toward men,but with a difference; for the women must wait for what men may come to them, whereas the ren can go out in search of the women,and consequently they have a wider field of chotce. Of course, this is all wrong, and the tendency of our present civilization may eventually wipe it out, and we shall then have women proposing to men and resu- larly laying siege to thelr hearts whenever it suits them to do so. As soon as this state of affairs arrives it will be easy to see that women prefer big men to little men, or vice versa, It Is probable that the big men will have the larger number of suitors, for women, as a general thing, if they like a man, like a great deal of him. A Matter of Preference. When you like, for instance, little women there ts no use in your endeavoring to place jon on any basis of reason. If you say you like them because they are or more beautiful than big women not talking sense. Size has noth- cleverer you are ing to do with brains, and as for beauty, if you judge it by the greatest productions of rt, nu will find ithe preponderance Is in favor of the larger women. The Venus of Milo is a big woman, 60 is the Medici, so are the se rrounding en virgins s the car in the painting of the Aurora; mosi Madonnas are of medium size, not ‘small. As for brains, they have no reference to size. George Eliot was big ani so was Queen Elizabeth, but Charlotte Bronte was almost a dwarf. Harriet Martineau was smail and so was Dolly Madison, As for herole deeds they appear to have becn per- formed by women of medium size. Grace Darling is represented as being of medium proportions, with a tendency rather to be large. Florence Nightingale was of ordi- nary ‘size, ‘with a tendency to be small. So with Madame Roland and others that could be named. Women who have been famous because men loved them frantically and braved a | great deal for them have usually been large. above the medium height; so was I #9 was the wicked lley. For terms of endear- nt, however, a woman is little. The | sense of protective devotion of men seems | to require this, Whoever heard of a ma ssing his wife “My dear big wife? Disposition and Size. Of course size has little to do with dis- position. There 1s a prevatiing * tendenc how slow of mind, and consequently rather slow to anger. Taken as two separate cla big women are rather better tempered than Little women, but there are some terrible viragoes among the big women. Fat women are, of course, nearly always good natured. It is the long, lean women who are the worst. Female murderers belong to this class, and it must be added in all fai of the most charming women in re inclined to be long and lean. | But ¥ herman, the Connecticut woman who killed a dozen people, was a lean and | hungry tigress, and if you will go to the the world her valuable imen copies of Aus- ent by Major EB. H. Watts amps 3 Newport. of oe Mr. Delawanna—‘You know we don’t run away, if you know what is good for yourself. ‘There is no use in staying out in the rain, if you can run indoors, and there is no sense in a man standing under a tor- rent of stinging words from a woman, if have dinner till 3 on Sundays, in order to sive the girls time to go to church, Why Mr. Murray Hill—“Great Scott! didn't you tell me that at breakfast?” he can run away from her. She may pur- sue you—and probably will do so—and she may catch you later, but at any rate you will have bad a respite. WHE ane CURVES, Which All Pitchers Must Master to He of Use to Their Teams. From the New York World, It 1s pretty genérallj admitted that the pitcher is the most important player on the diamond. To be a good pitcher requires not only perfect control of the ball in all methods of its straight delivery, but the ability to toss iy) tm the puzzling curves which lead to so'many strike outs. Arthur Cummings of the old Star team of Brooklyn was the first ball player to make practical use of the curve. He ex- perimented and practiced for a long time before he could explain the apparent anom- aly of a ball thrown from the hand chang- ing its direction horizontally during the course of its flight. Scientists have formed many theories try- ing to explain why this Is 30, The one generally accepted as correct 13 simpl>. The Outeurve. If one side of a ball can be made to pass through the air with greater rapidity than the other side there is greater friction produced by the atmosphere on the side moving most rapidly. This retarding ef- fect drags the ball to one side and pro- duces the so-called curve. To curve a ball, therefore, it 1s only necessary to make cne side travel faster than the other. This is accomplished by twisting the hand sharp- ly at the moment of delivery, allowing the ball to roll off the fingers instead of being released from all points at the same mo- ment. To produce the in-curve grasp the ball firmly between the thumb and first two fingers, the remaining fingers being dou- bled in the hand. Throw the ball at a height equal to the shoulder. At the in- stant of releasing it from the hand twist the fingers sharply toward the body, al- ‘The Incurve. lowing the ball to roll off their ends. The firm hold on the ball in throwing this “shoot” permits both greater speed and greater accuracy than in almost any other delivery. For the out-curve secure the ball in the hand by pressing {t firmly between the fingers and base of the thumb. In deliver- ing the ball to the batsman throw the arm forward midway between the shoulder and waist, the palm ef the hand up. At the moment of releasiag the ball turn or (vist the hand quickly to the left, allowing the ball to roll off the side of the first finger. Although this ts the eastest of all cur’ to pitch, it Is the most diMeult to control. Only practice will make perfect in this, A@ great speed as possible should be used, for a swift ball changing direction only a few feet from the batsman is much more difficult to hit than one traveling slowly and curving half a dozen yards from the bome plate. x For an up-shoot the ball ts gfasped tn the same manner as for the in-curv In 3 » among large people to be rather | you will find that this fs the previ ype among criminal womer | If you want a vicious, stir creature, that has a tongue like a needle, you must a liftie woman—the smaller the bet se are the most terrible ones of a | They are very apt to be good looking, too, of the brunette type, with dare, bright, flashing eyes. When’ the eyes get angry throwing, however, the hand is brought down front palm of the t ly in ng off the is twisted sas the hand suddenly downward, few but profesional players ever aster the drop curve. Almost all ama- urs throw instead the “out-drop,” which, me indicates, 1s a curve half way between the out and the drop. This is not at all difficult to pitch. The ball is grasped as for the out-curve, but in throwing the nd passes diagonally across the body a little above the right shc about the h of the belt on the The bali is released when directly in front of the home plate. In the true drop curve the hand travels perpendicularly in front of, and the palm toward the body. It is very ditheult to give sufficient speed to a ball thrown in this manner. It is the lack of fe whieh makes the down ‘Ss to master. There are variations on the regular up, cown, in and out-shoots which are won- derfully effective when learned. The “up- out” Is such a one. In principle it is the curve so hard for ama- Post a for ty same as the “out.” In delivering the Tall, however, the hand is /brought rom low down on the right side diagonally upward ross the body. A combination of the drop and the in- shoot is the most difficuit curve of any | that a batsman has to face. In fact, if the bal! is well placed, it is practically ‘im- 2 for him to touch it. This curve thrown much t me as the drop, at the hand is brought from over the rt shoulder diagenaily toward tie right leg. fter endeavoring to tempt a batsman with various curves, 9 st ball throw with great speed Is sometimes very | tive. Professional pi na, changing their positior the urve. i | one side to the other, from the rea in front or fr | will often produce |. There should he j ing between pitcher | of r to one of the sides good result. thorough understand- nd catcher, and a set which each may use to tell the i kind of ball--straisht or curved, is to follow. The pitcher should ctice constanUy in order to retain con- trol_of the bail. This control and ability to place the sphere wherever wanted is three-fourths the batt - sor Explained, Easily From Life. Henderson—“Why did they turn Skinner out of the church? Willlamson—“He sold tha pastor « horse.” tr AS YOU LIKE IT AN INCIDENT OF THE INDIAN SERVICE. — Written for The Evening Star, N THE WINTER of 1871, the Sioux In- dians having com- mitted serious depre- dations in the Yel- lowstone ani neigh- boring regions, Gen. . commanding the government troops in that dis- trict, resolved to pun- ish them. First, how- ever, he sent them word that they must cease from their depredations and return to their reserva- tion. They treated his communication with contempt, and, accordingly, on March 1, 1871, Col. W. B. Williamson, acting under orders from Gen, Crook, set out with ten companies of cavalry, some 600 men, to make a forced march to the place where the Sioux were known to have established themseives. His instructions were to deal the Indians the severest blow possible. With pack horses to carry his rations and camp equipments, Col. Willlamson proceeded to a point some thirty miles from the Indians, and there established a temporary camp and headquarters. Hav- ing done this he left about fifty men In charge of the camp, and, supplying the rest with such rajions as they could easily carry in their haversacks, he set forth with them for a swift ride to the Indians’ rendezvous, each man being armed with a carbine and a revolver and carrying a supply of ammunition. Among the officers who accompanied Col. Williamson were his son, Lieut. Arthur Williamson, who had as yet seen but Ittle rough service, and Capt. Phil. Parker, who had been In sev- eral ergagements with the Indians, and who was, moreover, shrewd in artifice and device when occasion required. Col. Wil- liamson knew that he should find in him & valuable assistant in his undertaking, and he realized that bis undertaking was a difficult one. The Indians outnumbered his force probably two to one, and they were ugly and full of fight. The supply of rations and ammunition they were able to carry was necessarily strall and the weather was fearfully cold. Gen. Sheridan, tn his re- port of this raid, says that the cold was so intense that the mercury congealed in the thermometer. The troops reached the camp of the In- dians the next morning, just at daylight, and made an attack at once, dashing into their village and taking them completely by surprise. The Indians, roused from sium- ber, seized their weapons, but could not make a stand against the fire of the cavalry in their midst, and, gliding along the ground and dodging from tree to tree, they fled in all directions. A few were killed, but the great bulk of them escaped, fleeing into the woods, where It Was useless for cavalry to empt to follow them. Col. Williamson at Save orders to set fire to the village, hine—lodges, blankets and food— was piled in heaps and burned. Nothing now remained that could be of use to the Indians except their ponies. There were atout 800 of these corralled at one end of the vi Some of the Indians had tried r ponies before escaping, but the were betw: and the fold in Which they were Inc and they were obliged to flee vithout them. If the cavalry coull now kill these pontes the Indians w left helpless, They ot back w ir reser- ot their food and which had been burned, they rely starve and freeze. Col. Will- | zed this, and he at once directed > ponies should be killed. But how | to kill them was a problem. It would not do to shoot them. ‘Their supply of ammuni- t nN Was too small. Tf th tridges in killing the 1 2a find themselves at the merey Indians, who had their weay ndered des by ceriain to attack them they might accomplish th tion, but they had none the devastated village, they four hatchets, and of men began to knoc head or to hack and maim them. a slow process, and tt w they were obliged to dis: Indians, concealed in the thick woods which surrounded the village, began to pour in their bullets upon the scldi. accuracy. Cel. Williamson saw that he must get his men, out of the wo Where they could return the fire and force the Indians to keep their distance, and a they would not stop to kill the ponies, an as the Indians must not be allowed to re- cover them, he decided to take them along. ari ahead of the cavalry, and kill- nd maiming them as best they could y proceeded used up Soo of the work of destrue- hing through found three or This was ntinue it, as the camp. he at once set about to do, but not without the greatest difficulty, "Th pontes were ‘excited by the firing, and by the killing of some of their number, was almost impossible together, and to force t seeing and it keep them herded m along. The In- ponies. rate and bold, and ssed the troops fearfully, Before they a point beyond the range of the enemy's bullets fired from the woods several of the men were killed aud ere wounded. » hardships which the soldiers had en- dured.from the time When they left their temporary camp on the preceing afternc were terrible. They had ridden all nt ugh an atmosphere so cold that their ath cong sit left their nds were coy- their vred with fo rs wer n, and h: and feet were beaumbed; many © were w ind as _yet none “of them had had a mouthful of food. They now stopped on the pl: nd built fires an ceeled to prepare th were not allow moment they dismounted preparations the indians poured fo the woods directly toward them, coming to three or f might, he hope of stam- peding the ponies. The troops returned the fire, and, remounting their horses, they drove the Indians back Into the woods, but as soon as they returned to their stopping place the Indians renewed their bold attack. Acain and again the cavalry drove back their desperate foes, and again and again returned, This harassing warfare was kept up dur- ing the whole of the day. It was only by snatches, and by a few at a time, that their food could be cooked and eaten. When worse. The savac ering themselves in the darkness, fair! urrounded them and kept up a continual fire. They were unable to obtain any sleep the cold was still intense, and many of them were wounds Of course It was a fearful situation, alry could haye mounted . but the 11 not do and take the ponies with them, and if left them behind the Indiens would capture and mount them and give chose, and, as they outnumbered the soldiers two to one, a baitle would be uneau ntinue In ake his men hac let the Indians r msianc circ he troops was now giving out of their r: could eat horsetiesh Phore w aw well in nec ment men's hundred cavairy- ings of hunger became ex- brought themselves to partake of ble sustenance without much all but one. Young Lieutenant mison, whom I have mentioned as 5 accompanied his father, Cok Wil- on, upon this raid, was unaccustomed someching of what they call, in far- west parlance, a tenderfoot. nies they might | ith these an equal num- | the ponies in the s not long before | rs with fearful | 's into the open plain, | ck to their temporary | being driven | Ssitye sh service. He had seen only the ide of a soldier's life. He was, per- At least he had a tender stemach He could not eat peny meat. hen the stopped ry re gd were and, cut wre ot lesh from the penies they had b _ them over their fires, tate them with more or relish, he could not join them. He could not even took on and wit- ness the pi . The sight of the dreadful provender—even the thought of it—was horribly offensive to his sensibili- tes. His sympathizing companions did everything they could to overcome his sen- timental scruples. They cut trim and sightly cutlets and broiled them until they were crisp and brown, but It was no use. He could not eat them. The consequence | was he went unfed. ‘There was not a scrap of venison or dried beef or biscuit or of anything but pony meat to be had. ‘» go without food in any season is bad enough, but with the temperature at 40 degrees below zero it is more a question of freezing than of starvation. The leu- tenant was obliged to heat himself con- tinually, and to get others to heat his limbs to keep his blood tn circulation. Col, Wil- liamson became alarmed for his son's life, and he begged him to eat the food, but all in_vain. On the third day after the rations gave out the colonel and Capt. Phil, Parker, who, as I have already said, was a man of de- vice: ask: the captain if he could not think of | some way (> overcome his son's sentimen- | tal feeling, and, after pondering awhile, the ptain replied that he wouid see what he uid do. Me hal hit upon a plan: and the next ie they stopped to prepare their food he pro- ceoded tw carry it eat. Cutting from one of the slaughtered ponies a strip cf meat stisflar to the strips of jerked antelope meat which nad formed a par: of their ra- tions when they started on this trip, he | heated it before the fire, to give it a @ rance, and then put it into hie where, In a little while, it was frozen stif€ Afterward, as they rode jong, ele:ting one of the men into his scheme, he told him to tell the lieutenant, as the greatest of favors, and under the strictest injunction of secrecy as to who was his informant, that Capt. Phil. couldn't cat pony meat any more than he could, and that he had some antelope meat in his hav- ersack. It was not many minutes after this | Was done before the young Meutenant drew alongside of the captain, who had purposely drawn his horse a little apart from the others, and told him what he had learned, begging him for God’s sake to give him a of his antelope meat. “I haven't got apy,” said the captain em- phaticail, “Yes, you have,” insisted the starving uth. “I tell you T have not. How could I have any when the rations gave out days ago?” “Now, look here, Capt. Phil, one of the men told me that he saw you get some an- telope meat out of your haversack, and that you couldn't eat horse meat any more than can.” “Who told you?” “I swore I wouldn't tell.” “If 1 knew the man I'd kill him. Now, look here. I have a small strip of antelope meat, but I shall need {t all and more too before we get out of this d—d scrape. If I divide with you I shall probably have to go without myself, but if you will swear that you won't tell any one I will give you a piece.” The Meutenant swore by all the gods that he wouldn't tell, and the captain, looking were riding together,when the colonel | @ | about, as if he were afraid that some one | would see what he was doing, reached into | his haversack and took out the strip of | pony meat he had prepared a little while before, and cutting off a very small piece he cautiously handed it to the starving wretch, who seized it fiercely and imme- diately concealed it in his haversack, and at evening, when they stopped and built their fires, he made haste to broil tt, eating it voraciously. When his compantons won- dered at his eating pony meat he told them that his hunger had overcome his scruples, thinking the while to himself how they were fooled. e ‘The next day he came begging-again to the captain for another piece, and again the captain insisted that he could not let him have any without endangering his own lite. “If I give it to you I shall starve, and I must think of myself, for I have a wife children and you haven't.” “But you wouldn't see me starve, would “If you starve {t will only be the fortune of war.” the captain answered grimly. | “If one cf us must starve I had rather it should be you.” i “Captain, I'll give you my whole month's salary when we get back to the fert if you will let me have one mcre piece. | ‘The captein finally yielded, after again making him swear that he would not tell one, and warning him not to forget at he owed him $180. All this time their suffering from cold nd fatigue and the harassing by the In- Jiang had continued, but they had managed to kill a good many of the ponies, and they tere now not more than ten miles ftom their camp. Col. Williamson accordingly decided that the time had come for decistve | action. Sending two riders to gallop ahead | to the camp to announce ‘that the troops | would arrive that evening, and to see that big campfires were built and abundant ra- tions were cooked, the colonel oniered the men to ride in among the ponies and shoot them with thelr révolvers as rapidly as pos- | sible. This was speedily accomplished, and in a short time the whole troop galloped away, leaving the Indians behind with no resomrees except the food which their dead ponies afforded. That night, as the sol- di at around thelr campfire after an abundant supper, enjoying the comforts of warmth and sated appetites and their pipes as they had never enjoyed them before, Lieut. Williamson told how Capt. Parker had saved his life by sharing his antelope Graceful Carriage ‘$ meat with him. “But,” sald he, with dol- crous expression, “he made me pay for it; I've got to give him my month’s salary for a piece of jerked meat no bigger than my hank The time had now come for the captain | to let the eat out of the which he pro- ceeded to do, and when, amid the roars of jaughter of cficers and men, -the young liewtenant realized how he had been duped, | | and that he had eaten pony meat after all, | he broke away from the c fire and rus |ed out into the darkness, where, as the | | ‘ator who told me the story said, he | | threw up everything except his commis: JOSEPH B. MARVDD = —- POKER RULES DIDNT Worn. A Game tn Which Three of a Kin Took Onty One Pair. Trom the New York World. On upper Broadway there ts a shoe store, In the window of which are some sample shoes. On the top of one pair is a large carl, on which three new $1 bills are dis- played. Below the bill ts printed: “Three of a kind take a pair.” Yesterday a tough-looking westerner, after gazing for a long time on the bills, the card and the shoes, stepped into the store and was met by a smiling cierk. “Say, mister, 1s this a straight game yer givin’ us?” “You refer to—" "m referrin’ to them shoes in the winder. You sell them ‘cordin’ to the rules of poker, do you?” “Oh, yes; yes, sir. Quite so, sir, ha! ha! Rather clever thing, isn’t it? Ha! ha “D. clever. Show me a pair of num- ber nires, that style.” ‘The gentle produced Several pairs of | nires, and the western man tried them on. He selected two pairs, and satd he would poth. WwW, See here,” he said, “I want no sh You're sellin’ "cordin’ to Hoy pair.” “T know th 2 Z an't scoop two Just How You Take & From Truth. Mr. Meeks (anxtously)—“Do you think my mother-in-law will pull through, doctor?” Physician (encouragingly)—"We can he for the best, sir.” = ‘Mr. Meeks @oing to die. is she?” United States Academy Of Medicine and Surgery, 807, 809, 81114thStN.W. (Between H and I streets), WASHINGTON, D. ¢ 4 PERMANENT INSTITCTION For TUB SCIENTIFIC TREATMENT AND CURE OF Nervous and Special Diseases.. CHRONIC (Ah Diseases of a SPRCTAL PN ND NATURE Privately, Safely Diseases, 821 Permanently cured, IX ALL. Cures Guaranteedcssrt't DERTAKEN NO EXPERIMENTS. Cases and corres- pondence strictly confidential. Tree consultation. REMARKABLE CURES Perfected tn old cases; which ‘have been neglected or unskillfully treated. OFTICE HOURS Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, # a.m. to 4 pan. Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, 9 am. to 8 PM, anit to9 pm. Siudays, 10 to 1, eull,16,21, 25430, PHOSHS ES OSS OSOOSOOSS Bargain In Hair Switches. $2.50, Was $5.00. $4.50, Was $6.00. $6.50, Was $10.00. In all shades; also largeree ductions in Gray Switches, Hair Dressing, Cutting and Shampooing in best manner by competent artists at S. Heller’s, 720 7th St. Something For About Nothing. | = 69 Cents For Ladies’ $2 Russia Calf Oxfords. ‘Sises 1 to oy 98 Cents Por Ladies’ $2.50 Patent Tip, Bright Dongola Om . fords, Hand-turns. Sizes 2 to 4, $1.39 For Ladies’ $2.50 Common-sense, Hand tore, Russet Oxfords. Nearly all sizes. $1.00 For Ladies’ $2.5 Common-sense, French Ki em@ Bright Dongola Oxfords. Mostly narrow: Widths, Sizes 2% to 4 aud Warren Shoe House, GO. W. RICH, 919 F ST. An Erect and * oe —45 the prerequisite of an impressive °° °° beuring, yet who can waik freely am@ °° naturally when tortured by camped and coe? Gttting Shoes? 'Wilson’s 50 Shoes —are not only attractive tn Wut essentially built for cmmt-eal they are comfortable—cise so maay People with coms and bunions woulta’s be wearing them. A §5 Shoe in every particular. We close at T—Saturday at 10. 3 Wilson, 929 F St., Sim gee “Shoemaker for Tender Feet." aule Excelsior Creamery BUTTER Excels 33-CENTS | For purity, freshness and de- 1 POUND. iictousness there ts none te @ CENTS Cael ft. We guarantee it the 2 POUNDS. (best any money will buy—re Bute fund money if vou're not satis- $8 CENTS. ged. A’ table butter you'll _3 POUNDS. | an cating $1.48 CF See us for the Colehrated 5 POUNDS, CLIFTON CREAM CHEESE. MARKET, Le AND K ST! Gibbons, .. aule eee on. STH <> <O$O <0 <o-<e <@ « {When We Say We Seil rhe Best Meat * °° To be had in Washington—we mean it, In the first place, we handle only prime-con@i- tioned grain-fed Virginia and Maryland cattle—and, gain, . . . . . . . . . . . ‘THOS. T. KEANE, Stalls 35, 38, 49, 50, 51 Center Market. aulo SO OO 2 40 Of 2 Oe 04, GAS Be" Range ~ Bargains. 33 ae RANGES, a8 room mast Cent 225 oar Tall” stork 3 por wont] on 44 . Jenks, 717-7th St wee we we oe we we ture ? Physical Cul Corset Company. oD ir are nines, | Bit iter tor Tl be——-. Gosh take tt if you! ff ~ We, ieht! I thought T was worl HA O\n Siu eon you, but I'ma jay. 1 04 yp | a pair of cichis an? a pair ef | WW Va | * then I would have had darn ~ so long: you ely fellers are! than you look, an" kin always i {07 @ BY, squirm out 0° a deal somehow.” »*|Tirs. Whelan, Mgr, sot 5ba os ee i and Ladies’ Duck Suits, Piannel Sutts, Gowns, age ay J $5, eenet immnmcataeely, tthe <a injury. Our matchless process cleaning. Fipost work — thopetutlyy—“So she's reaty | Atiton Fischer, 906 Gi St.