Evening Star Newspaper, November 10, 1894, Page 20

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1894—TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. ie I write a ector and miner, Daniel Evans : in his seventieth year, nd active as are most men in my ef of fifty. “Uncle Di as every one calls him, fs an intelligent and fairly well educated man, quite unlike what many people sup- pose the pioneers of western travel to Le. He forsook a wandering life more thon @ quarter century ago, married and settled down in Michigan to enjoy his well-earned ring myself been for many years a ornia and Australian gold digzer, Dan's reminiscence of those times greatly inter- ested me, as I try my readers. I ¢: his owa words, promising that dur ‘ whole narrative he never, for himself or others, used the uncouth dialect which some imaginative writers are fond of ascribing to all the early Californian gold seers, whereas, as a matter of fact, only the un- educated and Qougher class of these men ever spoke in such fashion. story, which, from-his wel is, 1 am sure, entirely true. On the 13th of July, 1850, when I was a young fellow of twenty-six, var overland train, consisting of four “prairie schooners” and thirty men, besides our suide, old Bill Somers, reached the western part of Ari- zona without having lost a ma: Early that morning we crossed the Big Sandy, eight or ten miles above its junction with the Santa Maria, and a iittle south Hualapal mountaing, a certain pass thro the foothills of which we des “1 to toke. This route, of Bill's own che lay far to the south of that usuaily followed. Hence we found no trail, no wheelmark nor foot- print, to guide us; but as Somers telt conti- dent of finding the desired short-cut, we did not trouble ourselves about that. On coming to the foothills, however, and inspecting several ravines in succession, he declared all to be impracticable Bui,” said he to Tom Gran: our captain, “I know there's a pass hereabouts. 1 went through it alone in ‘49, and I'm bound to hit it of. Keep your train where it is, Tom, while { go ahead and climb one of those cottonwouds, to look around a bit. I'll be beck in half an hour, sure.” leaving his horse and rifle behind, the guide set off on, foot and quickly disep- peared among the quaking asp bushes at the foot of a mountain spur. We all watched the tall cottonwood trees growing higher up, expecung every ‘roment to see hin shinning up one of them; but aid. If hour and another passed away; yet not a sight nor sound of sill could we hear. “It's. mii Gra queer,” at last grumbled “What on earth can keep he'll be back directl: said some one. ixely he’s found a pass that looks about right and is tracing it out, to make He Struck Out. ugh or we'd have heard rom his revolver.” entering Arizon: we'd had two ug we hadn't seen one, nor an Indian of any kind, for the last we couldn't think y harm happening to our e of us might lost him- self in t such an idea in con- was absurd. Still he ting laie in the fore- joafing around and nection with didn’t come noon, and there we wi doing nothin, Vith the ¢ ception of Abe Johnson, a old Kentuckian, we were’ al g only so lear’ both in the was pret varmint had elected ich he lexican wars an rd to the to the stly declin saying that the when 10 o'clock had come, without a sign of Somers, Abe began to suspect mis- chief. y right here, boys,” he safd, “till I make a little scout.” And off he ‘went in the direction previously taken by the guide. We saw him at intervais and again lost sight of him, exactly as we had done with Bill; but, unlike the latter, he came safely back in thirty minutes or so, looking much distressed, “Boys,” he quietly said, “you want to wheel right about and form a corral out on the ‘open plain, forty rods clear of cover. Poor Bill's in’ the hands of the Indians, sure. The varmints have sneaked up and lassced him, or struck him down before he could pull trigger or give the alarm. I saw the trail where they hauled him "way down into a pass hed found, and they're hidin: in there now, waiting for us to come along. vo you think they've killed Somers? anger. », Cap, [ don’t belleve he’s hurt a mite, for I didn’t see a drop of blood anywhere,” ne reds have likely choked dragsed him of to be And, boys, we've got to down; for when those re net going to fall into 1 begin their hetiish work just rescue him devils see tha the trap they at that time.” “We'll do that, or dl one of our men. i * savazsely exclaimed many of the brutes y far off?” ye twenty—maybe a hun- but, ju y the sign, no more than a dozen tackled Bill. I don’t know > the main crowd's located, but it's sure wr the narrowest and bushiest part ‘an't say; may ‘ uid Tom Granger, “you'd better ke command of the party till this thing's settled nd I'll be full private. I want a chance to fight without being bothered giving orders. Besh know what t to be done, and I don't.” All of us secended Tom's request, and the old soldier finally consented to the arrange- While this talk went on we'd moved away from the foothills, and on reaching a little creek in the vicinity where there not a tree.shrub or rock to shelter an was d the wagons, tethered feed and got our owr to n Johnson unteers n oft . I want nine les myself for this job on the ins’ p> nee. tw s m my hat, sh * the fellows that draw the fret en will go with me. The other ten must stay to guard the camp.’ "s fair enouch. Go |. And the little plecs of eut from an old book cover, re placed in the hat, each man shutting afterwart withdrawing one. Roth ran@ 1 were among the lucky i 1 the disappointed ten sub- eracefully. addition to hts muzzle-loading rifle, Colt’s re- weapon at that Tn each one of us earried a heav volver—a mighty costly young | t, Tom Granger, was far more fit for it | EY RW THOMSON a as time—so twenty of us could fire in all, 140 without reloading. “riends,"” thoughtfully observed cur rew captain, “of course the _ redskins have scouts out watching us. They've marked our change of position and will reckon on staying right here and sending a squad into the pass to t for our comrade. If we were fools enought to do that, not a man would ever come back. Then they'd try to wipe out the rest of us and capture the stock, about daybrenk tomorrow morning. If they don’t see us make a move, all the warriors ambushed in this end of the pass will fail back on the main body before sun- down, and not one of the band will ever think of being attacked from the further end of the gorge. “Now, here's my plan. The bank of this creek's high enough to hide us completely, and we'll sneak along its bed till we get to A Call for Hevolvers. the timber this side of the Big Sandy. Then we'll work cur way round the spurs to the west end of the pass and take the rear. It'll be a twelve or nfteen-mile tramp, but nothing else can save Bul “Do you think we can get there in time, Abe?" | asked. “Easy enough, Dan," he replied. “There's ven hours of daylight left. The way We're goin, though impassable for wagons, Will likely be net bad to push throagh on ot, and we ought to reach the far end of the pass in four hours. That'll leave us three to creep up on the reds. They can’t be any great distance from the west open- ing, but we'll have to crawl like snakes for the last half mile or so. There's sure to be good cover though, and if we get there be- Tore sunset we'll save Bill, even if there's a hundred of the murdering villains. So, stick hunting knives in your belts, recap riilez end pistols, take plenty of grub, and let's start. I'll pocket a flask of brandy in case it should be wanted.” Sheking Fands with our stay-at-home comrades, who were hardly likely to see all of us again, we entered the bed of the creek, our movements being perfectly sereened by ‘he high-topped wagcns until = purpese was served by the bank it- self. : Sometimes wading in the water, some- times skirting its edge, we safely gained the dmber. Then for three hours we struggled through an undergfowth so dense that our progress was necessarily slow; but the sun was still high when we arrived at the end of a pass,which a fresh trail of pony tracks at once proved to be the right one. Carefully examining the tell-tale hoof- marks, Abe said: ‘“Ihere's from fifty to sixty warriors in this band, boys. Our only hope of, saving the guide is in a sur- prise so sudden and complete that they won't have a chance to kill bim, which, if not too busy saving themselves, is the first thing they'd do on alarmed. “We must, somehow, manage to get _with- in rifle shot before they know it. If we can do that, success is certain. Take to cover now and sneak along quiet as ghosts, for there's no teliing now near the red- skins may be; but don’t shoot, whatever happens, till I give the word.” On either side of the trail, and well up on the slopes of the pass, was a heavy growth of trees and bushes, now in full leaf. Spreading ourselves out, each one of us wormed his way along as if all de- pended upon his individual caution, though the whole twenty of us kept almost within tow: of each other. For two hours, si- ly as shadows, and intently listening, we crept on and on; but during all that time had probabiy not advanced over one mile. ‘Then, as if by word of command, the line pped; for, right before us, the gulch opened out into a kind of amphitheater, nearly bare of undergrowth, and we heara the gentle stamping of invisible ponies, and a confused murmur of voices from a group of dismounted warriors numbering over half a hundred, who seemed to be engaged in an excit discu on. We couid see them quite plainly, thovgh compietely hid- en ourselves in the se scrubwood. The sun was now within a tew minutes ting; but the light was still good. eatly ‘the arguins Indians had ap- ly settled some disputed point, and 1 we saw a sight which drove us ‘near- mad wit Impatience fcr our h_ fierce al. Four tall warriors disap- pear2t for 2 moment behind a big rock, and on emerging bore between them the bounl and half-naked form of our old guide. others of the red fiends ¢ in preparing, from green r of small, pointed stakes. ves in charg of Somers then carried him to a clear spot of ground and cut the thongs from his wrists and ankles preparatory further proceedings. No sooner, however, were the gallant fel- low’s limbs free than, uttering a taunting shout, he struck out right and left like htning and sent tvo of his captors head- jong to the earth, his evident design being to provoke the erew into killing him at once. But a dozen of the miscreants threw them- selves upon him in a body and bore him down again. ‘Then, while some of the demons held his arms and legs, others drove the sharpened stakes into the ground, and soon the poor fellow, never for a moment ceasing to revile his enemys as “white-livered squaws and was stretched out, face up, and He Raised Him in His Arms. feet to the stakes. The monsters intended to build a fire upon his stomach and thus slowly burn him to death—and all thi? with- in fifty yards of where we were crouched! Every man of us, half crazy for action, held his rifle ready for instant use; but still there was no signal from Abe, and nothing but our perfect confidence in his judgment prevented an attack. Our cruel wait was nearly ended, however. While the main body of savages, yelling and dancing in hellish delight, formed a great riyg around their victim, two braves approached, one of whom bore an armfnt of dry twigs and the other a lighted brand. The circle was just opening to let them ss, when, like the trump of doom, there rang out fr lips of our leader the ingle word "Twas the last earthly sound heard by nearly a score of the bloodthirsty Apaches, for a rifte’s bullet flies faster than its report over so short a space, and those who fell dead on the firing of our simultaneous volley heard only the signal shout. Never surprise more complete or vie- tory more instantaneous, The four ‘con- picuously tall warriors, the two execu- tloners and twelve other braves dropped dead in their tracks, while the survivors, utterly pante stricken, stood for one second in amazed bewilderment, then turned to fly, as above their affrighted eres rose the tri- umphant cheer of the saved prisoner. “Revolvers, boys! Give it to them!” yelled Capt. Abe, and, firing as we went, we all dashed forward in pursult of the scurry- ing horde. Three more fell at our first pistol volley, and even those few who happened to have their bows in hand never stopped to draw them, ali‘rushing for cover at their topmost speed. as we coarged along, Tom Granger—six feet three in height, strong us a bull buf- falo and swift of foot as a deer—left the rest of us behind, and raging like a mad- dened tiger, overtook two of the savages ere they could gain shelter. One feli with bullet througn his brain, but the other sud- denly turned and struck with vengeful knite at his pursuer. Swirtly swerving, ‘Tom avoided the deadly thrust, caugnt the fellow up in his a-ms and contemptuously shouting: “l'll not waste lead on your car- cass, dashed him down with territic force on @ piece of rock, K:ling him as suddenly as mugnt 4 thunderbolt. by this ume not a live Indian was to be seen; more than one-half the total force lay dead upon the ground and many cthers had limped away more or less wounded. So, giving up the useless pursuit, we turned to iree bill Somers. “That was a mighty close call, boys,” he coolly said as we litted him uj “Which of you fellows laid out this raiu “Abe Johnson did; the Lord biess bim! I never could have planned it,” generously answered Granger. “Well, Abe, i'm everlastingly beholden to ye. The oldest Indian nugnter in the whole west couldn’t have -done it better; and all the boys backed you up like bricks. I'm real proud of the crowd.” “Flow was it, Bill?” asked Johnson, “Why, the skunks stole up and lassoed me just as I'd found a good pass. Not thinking there was a red hereavouts, I'd been careless like, and the first thing I knew, I waked up right here, tied tast hand and foot.” “Exactly as I guessed,” rejoined Abe. “Here, bill, take a pull of this,” handing over his flask. “Well, I'm mostly a teetotaler, Abe; but this is rather an extra occasion. So here goes,” and the old guide took a hearty drink, which, in such a case, was the best possible restoration. On losking around, we found fifty-three ponies hnee-haltered in a grassy hollow a tew rods away, while all the lances, war- clubs and most of the bows and arrows Le- longing to the routed savages had necessar- ily been left behind. “About twenty-five of the varmints have got away,” said Somers, as he was hungrily devouring some hardtack and bacon, “but as they've nothing but knives left, we needn't bother about them. All creation couldn't coax them to pitch into this party again! Make a bonfire of all the weapons, boys; then we'll mount a pony apiece, lead the spare ones and push right through the pass to camp. “It isn't more than two miles away, and we'll make it before it gets real dark. Of course, the reds'll be watchings « and that’s the ‘best of the joke, for they can't meddle with us, and the sight'll be worse than poison to them. Tomorrow we'll come through here with our whole train just as safely as along a St. Louis street, and in oe we'll strike the Big Colorado all right.” The ten men left at the corral had heard the firing and were extremely anxious about us. When, therefore, we arrived, with the rescued guide, the string of ponies and without a scratch on any of ourselves, there Was a perfect jubilee of rejoicing. On passing through the defile next day, not a dead warrior was to be seen, all had been removed during the night; nor did we the remainder of our journey see a single hostile Indian. Best of all, while making our way to the then small town of San isco, we sold the whole herd of cap- tured pontes at a good figure. “What ultimately became of Bill Somers? Do you know, Uncle Dan?” I inquired. “Oh, yes,” replied the veteran; “he made a nice little pile, lived to be over eighty and died peacefully in his bed at St. Louis about twenty years ago. Ss THE BEAR IN WINTER Sometimes Confined tn a Cage Made of His Frozen Breath. From the St. Nicholas Magazine. One of the most curtous things about the black bear (and the grizzly and cinnamon also) is the way he goes into snug winter quarters when the winter has fairly sct in and lies dormant in bis den without either eating or drinking until the next spring. This Is called hibernation, and during this period the ordinary processes of digestion seem to be entirely suspended. In our semi-tropics bears do not hibernate, but nature undoubtedly planted this Instinct in the brain of the bear of the north to en- able him to survive the severe winter period when the snows le deep and all food ts so scarce that otherwise he would be in dan- ger of starvation. This period of hiberna- tion is from about the middle of December to the middle of March. It has been stated that if bears have a plerty of food they will not hibernate, even in the north, but this isa mistake. I’know of at least two instances wherein bears in captivity have holed up in December and remained dormant until March, In spite of all temptations of offered food. The nat- ural instinct was so strong that it refused to be overcome by appetite only. There is another very curious thing about | the hibernation of the black bear. His den 1s usually a hole dug under the roots of either a standing tree or an uprooted tree, but It may be in a hollow tree, a hollow log, or more frequently a miniature cave In a rocky hillside. Sometimes he makes a bed of leaves and moss for himself, but often he does rot. In holing up under the roots of a tree he is frequently completely snowed in, and ur der such a condition the warmth of his breath keeps the sow :melted immediately around him. This moisture ffeezes on the inside of his den, and presently he is in- cased in a dome of snow lined with Ice, the hard Hning of which ever grows thick- er from the moisture of his breath. As a result, he often wakes early in March to find himself a prisoner in a hollow dome of srow and ice, whence he cannot escape for days, and where he is often found self- trapped and shot without the privilege of even striking a blow at his assailants. And there is where nature serves poor bruin a mean trick. I have never seen a bear in such an {ce cage of his own building, but Dr. Merriam has in the Adirondacks, and this information is borrowed from him. ri eee Written for The Evening Star. Night's Welcome. Gently falls the evening dew, The stars peep shyly out; The sky has changed to gray from blue, And all is still about. ‘The moo peeps out and seems to say, In tones warmed by its light, “Farewell, thou long and notsy day, ‘And welcome peaceful night.”” ‘The nightingale sends forth its lay, In music soft and bright— A farewell to the fleeing day, A welcome to the night. ‘The weary workman on his way, With heart, so far from light, ‘Thanks God that passed and gone fs day, ‘Thanks God for restful night. —AGNES F: McCE A Chinese Love Letter. From the New York Tribune. The “Ostasiatcher Lloyd,” an authority on Chinese matters, in a recent article on the manner of lovemaking in the flowery kingdom, publishes the following letter from a man who desired the daughter of a neigh- bor as a wife for his son: “On my knees 1 beg you not to despise this cold and common request, but to listen to the words of the matrimonial agent and give your honorable daughter to my slave of a son, so that the pair, bound by silken threads, may have the greatest joy. In the beautiful spring time 1 shall offer wedding presents and give a couple of geese. And let us hope for long and continuous fortune and look forward through endless genera- tions to the fulfillment of genuine love. May they sing of plenty and have every Joy. On my knees I beg you to consider my pro- posal favorably and throw the mirror-like glance of your eyes on these lines.” To this*ietter the father of the bride re- plied that he would “attend to the portion of his poor and poverty-stricken daughter, that she might not be without bedclothes, cotton clothing, hairpins and earrings. Therefore it was to be hoped tHat the cou- ple would have constant fortune.” ———-~ce+___. Intelligent Anima NEY. From Life. “What's the matter with that mule asked a man who was standing on the bank of the canal. “He doesn’t seem to be of any account whatever “He's all right,” replied the boatman. “The fault's with me. Ye see, mister, he understands every word ye say to him. “He doesn’t pay much attention to what you say.” “That's what shows his intelligence. I’ve jist fined church, an’ he thinks I'm a stranger.” THE FIVE SENSES An Attractive Method’ of Giving Children Pleasute. TESTING THE SENSE OF TASTE When the Eyes Are Closed Sand Tastes Like Salt. CINNAMON AND COFFEE T HE FIRST RAINY afternoon after the rrival of Miss Tay- lor, the new govern- ess, the four little Poole children stood at the windows of the school room. They were staring outside, and almost, if not quite, pouting, because, as Bertha said, “It is a pity to have a whole good afternoon gpoiled by rain.” Miss Taylor, passing the door, heard the remark, also saw the disconsolate looks. She came in under a smiling face which had the effect of a rainbow. “I read the other day,” she said, “of a Japanese game called ‘The Five Senses Game.’ ” Of course the children were at once inter- ested and gathered around Miss Taylor. “May we play it now?” “I don’t see why we shouldn't, but it will depend a little upon whether the cook is in a good humor or not.” i “What a funny idea,” laughed Billy. “Then we can’t play it, for she never 1s.”” “Which one of you is her favorite?” “Lily,” said three of the children, while Lily pointed to herself and said, confiden- ually, “Oh, yes, I am.” “Well, then, Lily, I will send you down to the cook, and on this slip of paper I will write the names of certain articles that I want you to bring me, just a trifle of each one, remember; Bertha and Billy can help me by making little cornucopias of paper; that's right, Bertha, very well done; turn up the end to keep in the contents. ‘Then Miss Taylor wrote the list in a plain, round hand, so that eight-year-old Lily would not have to com® trudging up two flights of stairs to have anything explained. The list ran as follows: Salt, pepper, sugar, tea, coffee, cinnamon, cloves, choco- late, nutmeg, garlic. ‘There were twelve cornucopias in all. Miss Taylor put ten of them in a box, singly packed together, and sent Lily down to “beard the lioness in her den,” while she /11 Want the Doctor Before Night.” took the two that were left and went into her own room. She found some peppermints in a drawer, which she pounded and put in one cornucopia, and sand in the other. “It looks so like sugar that I am quite apt to make a mistake myself with my eyes open.”* "Meantime Bertha and Billy had been anx- fously waiting for what was to come next. Before Billy had a chance to get fidgety Miss Taylor reappeared and placed her mys- terious packages on the long school room table, which she had cleared of books. “Would you mind telling us what the game is, Miss Taylor,” inquired Billy. “7 would, decidedly, until Lily's return, but here she comes, Well done, little lad: and the cook did not bite you nor put you r pudding to make It extra sweet?” panted Lily. “She only said ‘and shure if yez take all that stuff yez’ll have to send fur every doctor in town before night.’ ” They all layghed at Lily's funny brogue, and Miss Taylor soon had the little cor- nucoplas in line on the table. She then took a large white silk handkerchief from her pocket, and said: “Bertha, being the oldest lady present, shall have the honor of being blindfolded first,” and proceeded to bind the handker- chief tizhtly over Bertha’s blue eyes. ‘ow, Bertha,” she explained, “Billy will take a little pinch from any of these cornu- coplas hoe pleases and place it on your tongue and you are to taste it and tell me what it Is. ¢ course, I can do that,” said Bertha, “Is that all the game?” Don’t be too sure; wait till you see the result.” “But, Miss Taylor, please have Billy wash his hands first; they are never clean.” Billy was so anxious to drop a plece of garlic on Bertha’s tongue that he obe- diently left the room when told to do 80, and returned with clean hands. ‘Put out your tongpe, Bertha,” and out {t came; a piece of garl'c was laid on it, That's Mackerel» and “What is it you have in-your mouth?” sald Miss Taylor, anxiously, for she knew the game would start alk wrong if Bertha should guess right, and she really could not see how garlic could be mistaken for sugar or salt. “It tastes like mackerel,” said Bertha, forgetting entirely about; the dist, and she at once removed the disagreeable morsel from her tongue. The others all laughed heartily, and Billy took his turn right gleefully, saying “I can tell onions from fish every day in the week, I am sure of that.” “You are always sure of everything you know, Billy,” said Bertha, a little spitefully, for she had the nasty taste in her mouth, ard a large glass of ice water seemed only to have made it worse. Miss Taylor suggested in an aside to Bertha to try Billy on sand, and Bertha put a generous pinch on his tongue. He took a good taste of it and spit it out quickly. “If you must give a fellow salt, why not have nice table salt instead of this horrid rock stuff that is so gritt “Did the salt make you thirsty, Billy?” inquired Miss Taylor. ‘Awfully, 1 could drink a gallon of ice water. Why do you laugh like that—you know it was salt, now don’t tell me that stuff was sugar. Bertha would never have given me anything so sweet as that,” almost angrily. “My dear little boy, this Is a game and we laugh when we play games, you know,” sald Miss Taylor, gently but reprovingly. “Sugar would undoubtedly have been the medicine you required just now, but you see Bertha made a mistake and gave you—” “Salt, I know,” interrupted Billy. “It is the kind of salt that little birds have on the floors of their cages and that you He in at the seashore,” and then the jaugh was on Billy and he good naturedly joined in it. “Now, little messenger Lily, ft is your turn and Brother Ned shail put whatever he pleases on your pink tongue.” Neddy, with eyes as big as saucers, took a piece of cinnamon and dropped it in Lily's open mouth. “Oh, it’s coffee and I love it and I never have any cnly Sunday mornings just a sippity sip from mamma's cup.” “If you had it oftener you might possibly know it better when you tasted it, but per- haps: not, es their tasting without seeing is a great mistake. You see how necessary one sense is to another It is your turn, Master Ned.” Ned bravely stood the ordeal of being “made blind,” as he expressed it, and Lily whispered to Miss Taylor, “I must give him sugar; he is so fond of i “All right, dear, you may,” and Miss Taylor smiled approvingly on the little girl. Ned gave a big suck and a happy smile broke over his dear little face as he said “sugar—more—"" “Bravo, Neddy, the first one to guess right,” and the little hera, was rewarded by another dose from the same cornucopia. You Can’t Fool Me. The children tried each other over and over again and as often as not made mis- takes. Miss Taylor explained to them how close- ly allied the senses are and what a dif- ference it makes when one sense comes to the help of another? Little Ned sat on her knee and learned the names of the five senses, repeating them after her, telling them off on bis four chubby little finge: and one thumb—sight, smell, taste, hear- ing and feeling. ROSE MURDOCK. ——_—__+e+-__—_ THE MOUNTAIN RAT. Queer Trait of Thix Honest Little Ro- dent of the Rockies. From the New York Sun. “In a Colorado mining town,” sald the tourist, “I saw a queer animal in the shape of a mountain rat, which a prospector had captured alive in his cabin and brought in asa curiosity. The creature had been a captive about a week, and was kept in a cage In a saloon. This native rodent of the Rockies was about as large as a good- sized house rat; its fore” parts resembled a squirrel’s, while its disproportionately long, large hind legs end tail I could com- pare to nothing but those of a young kan- garoo. “He's a little too neighborly of disposi- tion sometimes—makes free with your pro- visions—but he's got his good qualities, aud one thing I like about the mountain rat is his honesty,’ said a rovgh miner, as he fed the little creature with nuts and bits of ap- ple, which it took readily from his hand and ate, using its forepaws in handling them, after the manner of a squirrel. “He's a great investigator and has tak- ing ways,’ he continued. ‘It can’t be de- nied he'll sometimes walk away with as many of your things in a night as a burro can carry—almost. But it’s swapping, not stealing. For everything he takes away he brings back something else, and leaves it in the same place. Fact, every time! A colony of ‘em will take up their quarters in the roof of your cabin, for instance, and some morning you'll miss a pair of socks or sus- penders, but just as sure as you do there in place of them will be a pair of buckskin gloves or a Mexican spur, or something of the kind that he’s brought you from some- where else to rake things square. It works that way every time, as the campers out in the mountains all know. Where neigh- bors in a mining camp are not well ac- quainted this shifting about of things leads to misunderstanding and difficulty some- times; but the rat means all right. It's just his way of keeping things moving in camp.’ “Several other old-timers standing around confirmed the miner's statement about this remarkable consclentiousness of the moun- tain rat. Other good and amusing qualities of this mountain kangaroo were cited, and no one spoke a word against him. oo —____ Lazy, but Shrewa. Phil. Armour has taken pains to deny to the Baltimore Herald the story that he has no pcor relations, because he makes them all rich. He told the reporter that he had poor relations—enough of them. And then he related this story: “One of the poor kind—he lives down in Ilinois—is one of the most persistent men I ever knew. He keeps writing and writing for money all the time. He is not a bad fellow, only im- provident, and if he displayed the same energy in attending to business that he does in writing to me he would have been rich a long time ago. Well, he kept send- ing one letter after another, saying that if he only had $500 he would be all right. He repeated this so often that one day I told my secretary to send a letter saying that if he wouldn't bother me for a year I would send him $500. Well, sir,” and Mr, Ar- mour’s sides shook with laughter, “as soon as the matls could bring a reply I got it. He said: ‘Make it $1,000 and two years,’ and I thought it was such a clever turn that I sent the money.” “What happenec next?” “In about three months he wrote again saying the agreement was off because his wife hadn't been included.” Mr. Ar- mour seemed to think the whole thing was a great joke, and especially enjoyed the shrewdness of his poor relation. os Ten Millions Worth of Plate. From the London Sketch, The recent distinguished foreign visitors to Windsor were greatly struck by the mag- nificence of the royal plate at the castle. Even the czarowitz, accustomed to the al- most barbaric splendor of ‘the court func- tions in his native land, was fain to admit that for solid worth he had never seen the equal of the English plate. The royal plate at Windsor is generally reckoned to be worth about $10,000,000, and it is no unusual thing at a state banquet at the castle to have plate to the value of two and a half millions in the rcom. There are two state dinner services, one of gold and one of sil- ver. The gold service was purchased by George IV and will dine 120 persons. The plates alone of this service cost over $60,- 000. On state occasions there are usually placed on the dining table some very beau- tiful gold flagons, captured from the Span- ish Armad«, which are now, of course, of priceless value, while the great silver wine cooler, made for George IV and weighing 7,000 ounces, always adorns one corner of the apartment. As sideboard ornaments there are pretty trifles In the way of a pea- cock of precious stones, valued at a quarter of a million, and a tiger’s head from Indi: with a solid ingot of gold for its tongue, an diamond teeth. This wonderful collection of plate is crown property, which practically means that it belongs to the country; and the queen has separate collections for use at Balmcral and at Osborne, which belong to herself. —_—_-e-—_______ All the Same Kiss. From the New York Herald. Materfamilias—“I don’t think you should kiss my daughter so much, even if you are engaged to her.” Rakely—‘I kiss her only once each even- ing.” Materfamilias—“Don’t tell me such stuff. When I passed the parlor door at 8 o'clock seg were kissing her, and you were kiss- i her when I passed at 10.” “T know I was, but it was all the Yale Secret of the Queen of Beauty. Indorsed Deautiful grcw more beautiful every seem to affect ber marvelous beauty, lies in the use of her own wonderful remedies. ‘They combine within thelr composition every In- er ft MIME. ML, YALE'S “Excelsior” Complexion and Other Remedies. WERE AWARDED World’s Fair Medal and Diploma, Showing their superiority over all other domestie or foreign remedies, MME. YALE is the Creator of Beauty Culture. by Congress, acknowledged ‘to be ® woman, and still continues to day. Age does not Her secret nt lacking in the buman flesh to give it the red hard, youthful appearance. Any woman can mske herself ‘just as fair and lovely as ber heart desires if she will use these remedies accor Auerica’s Greatest Complexion and Health Spe- to directions. Are absolutely guaranteed to be all cialist. that is claimed for them. Druggists everywhere sell them. — Yale's Guide to Beauty and Health ‘Price Yale’s Hair Tonic Turns gray hair back to its own natural color without dye. The first and only rem- edy in the history of chemistry known to do this, Stops hair falling in from 24 hours to one week; creates a luxuriant growth; cures dandruff and all scalp troubles. Price, $1.00 per bottle; 6 for $5.00. What 1s more dis- gusting than to see either a lady's or a gen- tleman’s hair full of little scales gradually falling on their shoulders. Yale’s Fruticura. Mme. Yale’s wonderful cure for all kinds of female weakness, Price, $1.00 per bottle; 6 for $5.00. Thousands of testimonials on file and recelved every day. Yale’s Almond Cream. Refines coarse pores, keeps the skin smooth and lovely. Price, $1.00. Yale’s Skin Food. Guaranteed to remove wrinkles and every trace of age. Price, $1.50 and $3.00. Yale’s Mole and Wart Ex- tractor. Removes and 4 stroys forever moles and warts. Price, $3.00. . Yale’s Lotion and Ointment Pimples, Black Heads and Skin Diseases cured with Mme. Yalo’s Special Lotion No, 1 and Special Gintment No. 2, guarantecd. Price, $1.00 each, Z. D, GILMAN, 627 Pa. ave., 622 C st. nw. KOL® PHARMACY, 438 7th_st., cor. E n.w. List. Yale’s La Frecla and Freckles. Mme. M. Yale's wonderful La Freckla tp known to be the only sure cure for freckles. In from 3 days to one week after its first application every freckle will disappear an@ the complexion become as clear as crystal. Price, $1.00 per bottle. Yale’s Complexion Bleach. Guaranteed to remove sallowness, moth patches anj all skin blemishes. Gives a nat- ural complexion of marvelous beauty. Price, 00 per bottle; $5.00 for 3 bottles. Yale's Elixir of Beauty. Cultivates natural rosy cheeks; a wonderfub skin tonic. Price, $1.00 per bottle. Yale’s Blood Tonic. Purifies the blood, acts on the liver, kidneys, and builds up the system. Price, $1.00 per bottie; 6 for $5.00. Yale’s Eyelash and Eye- brow Grower. Makes the’ lashes grow thick and long—the eyebrows luxuriant and shapely—strengthens and beautifies the eyes—guaranteed to be per- fect and pure. Price, $1.00. Yale’s Hand Whitener. Mekes the hands soft, Ily white and beautl- ful in every way. Price, $1.00. Yale’s ‘‘Great Scott!” Mme. Yale’s wonderful remedy for removing and destroying the growth of superfluous hair takes but five minutes to use; does not hurt, irritate or even make the skin red; removes every trace im one application, Price $5.00. R SALE RY | <ameae & STEVENS, Washington, D. ©. Druggists everywhere stil Mme. Yale’s Remedies. If druggists do not happen to have them in stock they will order for you without extra charge. [ail orders sent to Mme. tention. ale’s headquarters receive prompt ate All correspondence answered personally. MIME. M. YALE, America’s Greatest Complexion and Health Specialist. Yale’s Temple of Beauty, 146 State Street, Chicago, Il.” noT-whs. Girls ELEPHANT AND RAT. ‘The Rat Ran Up the Elephant’s Trunk and an Earthquake Ensued. From the San Francisco Examiner. One small rat caused more damage in five minutes in the big circus tent at Cen- tral Park yesterday morning than a dozen men could repair in twenty-four hours, The rat ran up the trunk of Jess, the big fe- male elephant, and she did the rest. Just how it happened no one seems to know, but when the first wild alarm was given and the dust had settled a score or more of frightened employes found two ani- mal cages upset and their bars bent and twisted, the canvas of the menagerie tent sagging to the ground in the places where the poles had been knocked out end a path of ruin leading to where the big doors that close the Sth street entrance had been burst cp@ and smashed into kindling wood. Jess was gone. Where she had gone or what she was Going no one knew. The fact that she was lccse m the streets of a big city was suffi- cient provocation for the wildest conjec- tures, for an elephant without a master can do more damage in a given time than a dozen runaway locomotives. At the first sound of the commotion one of the animal trainers, George Knight, groped his way out of the big tent and was just in time to see Jess demolish the doors and disappear In the street. He followed, ran- ning, and was joined at the entrance by Manager William Seils, who had been eat- ing his supper In a restaurant across the street. They gave chase to the elephant, which had taken the center of the street and was going toward Howard street at a lively gait, waving ber tronk high in the air and trumpeting loudly at every stride. By a great burst of speed Mr. Sells and Mr. Knight overtook Jess as she was cross- ing Mission street, but she paid no more at- tention to their frantic orders of “Down! Down! Jess!” than if they had not been in existence. Out Howard street again the chase led, but when llth street was reached Jess stopped short and began to beat her trunk on the stones of the street. Knight ap- proached, and after great difficulty he coaxed the elephant to allow him to ex- amine her trunk. He found something re- sembling a slate pencil in size and shape protruding about an inch from the hollow end of the member, Thinking this might be the cause of the trouble he took a firm hold of it, gave a stiff jerk, and out came—a rat. ‘The little animai that had caused so much trouble was not yet dead, but nearly so, and when Jess saw it she gave every evi- dence of satisfaction that an animal can give. She was commanded to kneel down, and while she. was contentedly masticating a dozen loaves of bread that had Leen brought from a neighboring baker's shop she permitted the attendants who had come up with ropes to hobble her. She was after- ward led back to her quarters without the least trouble, and when the children from the orphan asylim fed her peanuts in the afternoon sho looked the mildest-man- nered elephant that ever wrecked a tent. all my experience in the show said Mr. Sells, “I have never seen or heard of a like cecurrence. Jess has always been a good-natured animal and has never developed any vicious traits. She follows her Burmese trainer, ‘Elephant Bill,’ around ike a dog, and any of the animal men can handle her. suppose the rat ran in her trunk while she was asleep. An elephant sleeps with its trunk lying straight cut along the ground, and I suppose when the rat ran in she con. tracted the muscles of the trunk and held him fast. Her trainer always sleeps with her, but he wes away last night, and when she failed to find him she became panic- stricken. If he had been there she would have at once indicated to him what the trouble was and he would have relieved her. As it was, we were extremely fortunate in securing her before more fe was done.”* ANTIQUE FURNITURE. ‘Types of Some Graceful Designs That Are in Favor, From the St. Louls Globe-Democrat, It would be interesting to know just how much of the entique furniture sold in this country is genuine. Much of it is real, in the sense that it Is made out of divers. available portions of many unavailable wholes, parts of dMap‘dated four-post bed- steads and tables being often made over into beautiful sideboards, and vice Versa. But the stock of lovely old pieces of ma- hogany furniture, unchanged since its orig- inal maufacture, is growing scanty, the northern and southern states having prac- tically yielded up most of their colonial treasures. One of the prettiest bits of real sntique lately scen is the Chippendale dress- ing table. Imitations . masquerading as “real an- tiques” are exasperating; but: there is no reason why the fascinating cld shapes may not be frankly adapted by modern makers, without pretension as to originality. The dainty and graceful Sheraton and Chippen- date forms help to make the prettiest of rooms, but it should not be forgotten that they demand a certain accompaniment in furnishings. The fioor should have rugs for covering, the upholstery should be in the softest, most subdued colorings; and th room must not be too full of ‘furniture, Chippendale and Sheraton must have space to show off their delicate beauties. They are lost in a room “stuffy” with heavy hangiags and quantities of decorations, Too many modern rooms, by the way, are over-decorated and over-furnished. It is dangerous to trust the professional dec- orator too far; and not every woman who arranges a new house has at her fingers’ ends that magic which means beaufy, re- finement ang coziness—which gives “the look of home.” Those who are doubtful of their owa powers in this direction should take refuge in subdued colors, and in plenty of books and pictures; difficult combina- tions of color and ambitious reproduction of styles are not for them, From the New York Times, The Russian garland bids fair to super- sede the heretofore popular shower bou- quet for bridesmaids’ use, They are slung over the arm, and fall to the hem,of the skirt. These thus carried at a recent wed- ding were of entwined roses and buds, and hung from a band of rose-satin ribbon, which rested on the arm in a butterfly bow. At the same weddirg the bridegroom united with the bride in the souvenir gifis to the bridesmaids. Tnese were not the conven- tional and monotorous brooch or locket, but took the form of exquisite point-lace fans, in each of which were set in the outer sticks beautifully executed miniatures of the bridal pair. Those who know the high prices charged by miniature painters will appreciate the amount of money needed to indulge in these tasteful gitts. Most of this tort of paintirg is done by women ar- tists, ard the price expands as the portraits shrink. A miniature of the ordinary size costs about $125, and a tinv one to ret In a fan stick advances considerably over that price. ‘The miniatures now on exhibi- tion at the Academy of Design are worth careful study. ———-e+_____ Drowned Out. From the Detroit Tribune, The heavy villain seized the heroine and dragged her to the front of the stage. “Hush,” he hissed. “I fear we are over+ heard.’ ‘The beautiful girl laughed wildly, “You can just gamble we ain't,” she re joined. “Why, there's some of the best people in the city in the boxes tonight.” "The sir was filled wit the confusion of many tongues.