Evening Star Newspaper, May 4, 1895, Page 15

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MAY 4, 1895-TWENTY PAGES. 15 END OF A CAMPAIGN BY MATT CRIM. (Copyright, 1895, by Bacheller, Johnson & Bacheller.) , CHAPTER I. “When Mrs. Col. Waring sold her old home in Virginia and went to New York to live, she frankly confessed that it was for the sole purpose of giving her daugh- ters the advantages of social life, and the opportunity te marry well. Frankness seemed one of Mrs. Col. War- ing’s crowning charms. Her poverty, the beauty of her daughters, her motherly anxiety and ambition for their future, were all gracefully acknowledged; but dis- cretion went hand in hand with this can- dor. The lady was shrewd enough to know perfectly well when and with whom to talk so freely. Her audiences were care- fully selected. Men were apt to pity and admire her, but a few ill-natured women had declared her to be a deliberate and selfish schemer. However, Mrs. Col. War- ing suffered little from these scurrilous at- tacks. She was a small, slightly-built woman, with a thin face, queer gray eyes and dark hair tinged silvery on the temples. She dressed plainly and always very markedly as a widow, but wore some handsome rings on her slender hands. No one ever observed Mrs. Col. Waring without also observing the old-fashioned cluster dia- mond on her foreringer. It seemed to as- sist largely in the perfection of her plans. When occupied with some knotty problem “Oh, come, now, none of your artfal coquetry.” she would turn and twist it around on her finger incessantly. As for the colonel, he had fought gallantiy for the confederacy, and finally lost his life in its service. Peo- ple who knew the family well had liked him rather better than his wife. He had been a handsome, robust man, as healthy in mind as in body, a truly candid soul without any pretense or make believe. The daughters inherited his beauty, and they might have resembled him more in spirit had he lived to train and influence them. But they knew the pinch of poverty and felt it all the more because their mother chafed under it so sorely. Her high esti- mate of monty and position had its influ- ence with them, and the two eldest sis- ters married according to her wishes. They had the opportunity, for the Warings were remotely connected with a moderately well- to-do and very aristocratic family—ac- cording to the New York standard of aris- tocracy—while Tom Waring, who had made and lost two or three fortunes on the stock exchange, rendered valuable service in bringing some of kis moneyed friends to the house. So her sisters married, and then ft was Barbara's turn. For her Mrs. Waring had made her most ambitious plans. She was undoubtedly more attractive than either of her sisters, although they were much handsomer. She was charming, but not tager to please, therefore men were anxious to please her, and, then, she possessed a decided “style,” to which she, as well as her mother, at- tached decided value. She listened to her mother’s worldly counsel with a ready ac- ceptance of its wisdom and a cool impartial appreciation of her gifts and what was due her family pride. It would be an excep- tional man indeed whe could win her. Her marriage should be a triumph before which all the Waring marriages would pale into utter insignificance. She desired money, the prestize of a fine old name, and a bril- liant mind. She would neither marry a rich fool nor a poor genius. She read the his- tory of famous and fascinating women, pored over accounts of the French salons and wished that she could have one of her own. Her lip curled with disdain at the thought of contenting herself with the frivolous pastimes of a mere society wo- man. It was her vaguely outlined plan to draw about her the highest and best in all the arts and professions, to become a pa- tron of genius and be noted for her bril- Mant gatherings as well as the perfection of her gowns. Love had not even been con- sidered. Indeed, it rather pleased her to think that she couldn't love very deeply, that her head, her well-poised, artistically dressed head, would always govern her. “A le unwomanly,” Tom Waring would say to himself when his thoughts wandered In her direction. “Not very deep, either, I fancy, but taking—immensely taking.” Waring was a stout, florid bachelor who had been through an endless number of love affairs and who still retained his chivalrous admiration for women. He had taken the pretty Waring girls under a semi-paternal wing and felt it his duty to administer many solemn warnings on worldly ambition. But as he invariably de- livered those warnings after dining freely he only provoked laughter and affectionate raillery. Barbara exasperated him very much. “A fellow might kill himself for you, and I don’t believe you’d know enough to care a bawbee!” he exclaimed, one evening. She leaned her head lazily against the back of the chair. “Ah! well, perhaps not so bad as that," she said, nonchalantly. “But a man who would do such a decidedly imbecile thing is hardly worth pitying; don’t you think so?” wonder,” said Waring, looking quiz- gically at her, “I wonder if you are not posing. It is your evident desire to appear very flinty, and you play your part well— very well. But I'm sorry. I wish girls would be more simple and natural. His earnestness amused her. “I think it would be very tedious to have to keep up a pose before you, Cousin Tom, one of my own family—tedious and un- Profitable. Girls are natural, only they are not all angels, but human beings, like the rest of the world. ,If I can’t fall madly in Icve or don't want to, ence? I think the people in love.are about the most wretched creatures I know, al- ways swinging between heaven and hell.” You've been well trained, Miss Waring. A fish would be warm-blooded compared to you.” wrbara refused to be plqued. “Mamma is admirable, but I have a reason of my own which occasionally is able to Your™reason be hanged!” cried Waring, rising from his s in a passion. Tt doesn’t seam to prevent you from accepting adoration that is offered you.” it Don't you thi to go home grow rude, Cousin Tom. ik it would be wise for you nd sleep off your ill temper? pardon, Barbara. I have to let out occasionally, you know. { But has reason to do with love— hearted love, you know?” yes glinted. y it shouldn't have a with it, and I think if it appy people in the - is no world—t eason w sense to the wind fall in love. There throw! ply be For my part— “By jove! Barabara, you are stunning, really. I'd like to possess a little of your coolness when stocks are going down and the market smashes. Your serenity is worth a fortune.” Barbara passed through three seasons and received a number of offers of mar- riage. They were ail rejected, however. She had not yet found what she wanted. “And you never will, my dear Barbara, depend upon it. You'll either marry some poor devil, or die an old maid,” said the irrepressible Tom, who watched her social career with unabated interest. Barbara involuntarily stole a glance at herself in a mirror. “Oh, you are not losing your attractive- ness, I must admit. You wear marvelously well.” His voice sunk to a suggestion of tenderness. “You could be a matchless. wo- man if you had a heart.” “A very necessary portion of one’s anat- omy, I should say. I hove I have one.” “A tireless machine to propel your blood, that is all—not capable of much feeling.” “It loves you,” she said, with a sudden bewitchingly soft smile. That was one of the fascinating things about Barbara—the little glimpses of womanliness occasionally peeping tantalizingly through her colorless Janguor. “Oh, come, now, none of your artful co- quetries on me!” he exclaimed, flushing and stroking his gray mustache. “Then you must stop harking back to that old theme. We settled it long ago.” “No; we have not settled it. We never can as long as you refuse to—” “To see through your eyes?” ‘To see what you are missing. But I guess you are ail right—some sides of you, at any rate. I believe you'd make a first- rate mother. Now, wouldn't you?” She had relapsed into her usual indiffer- ence. “I really never gave the matter a thought,” she said, then suddenly broke through again and laughed 4 gay, delight- ful laugh. “How you do overflow with sentiment. You must have been in love a score of times.” “T have.” -“And your heart? I suppose it is in a very fragmentary condition?” “On the contrary, it has been enriched by every experience,” he replied, with dignity. “My first love affair occurred when I was only twelve years old. What an experi- ence! What profound emotion thrilled my soul!” He sighed deeply, throwing his head back and kazing retrospectively at the ceiling. “And when did the last affair end?’ Bar- bara inquired casually. Waring came out of his sentimental rev- erie with a slightly disconcerted air. “Oh—ah, it hasn't ended.” “Indeed! “Yes; she is the dearest little woman in the world.”* neHow interesting! Why don’t you marry er?” “She—ah, is already married. It is a purely platonic sentiment between us, I assure you, Barbara. She is neglected and I pity her. I shall never marry.” Just then Mrs. Waring’s niece broke into the conversation. She had all the while been seated near the window. “Tom, Tom, why do you talk such non- sense? Of course you will marry. There is a divinity that shapes our ends.” “A peroxide of hydrogened one will prob- ably shape his,” Barbara remarked from the cabinet mantel, where she was now standing rearranging her hair. Waring dined down town with some friends that evening, and then returned to his rooms to make some changes in his toilet before going to the Lyceum, where he had promised to meet Barbara and her mother. He had imbibed so freely of champagne that he was overflowing with joyousness. “I am not drunk, but Jove, my head does feel peculiar,” he muttered to himself. “That champagne must have been extra dry, sure enough. At the last moment he discovered some letters on the table. He turned them over carelessly, while humming a popular air. A foreign postmark attracted his eye, and he opened that letter, pushing the others aside to read at a’ more convenient time. It was from an old acquaintance travel- ing abroad. what's the differ- “And now, Waring, I come to the real point of this discourse. My son is on his way to America. He has foolishly en- tangled himself in a love affair with a young widow over here, and [ am anxious to break off the whole matter. He will call upon you in New York, and I beg you, for the sake of our friendship in the past, “I think I love him.” to look after him; you know all the best people. Introduce him to some charming girls and try, tf possible, to make him forget his widow. Please do not let him know that I have prepared you for his visit. Iam quite recovered from the most serious of my ailments. Ever your friend, “JAMES NOEL. For a moment Waring struggled with his befogged memory trying to place James Noel. “Oh, yes; oh, yes,” he said finally, “I know who it is now. James Noel went abroad with his family years ago, and his daughter married a prince or some- thing of that kind. Why, of course, aw- fully sick man, Jim Noel. Didn't suppose he'd be alive a month after he left Amer- ica. Why, I knew the Noels before the war—fine old family, and Jim made money till you couldn't rest. Perfect loads of ‘ye mused over the letter and the re- sponsibility thrust upon him for a moment. Then a brilliant idea struck him. “Tl introduce him to Barbara—that’s the thing, the very thing. If he’s not hope- less she'll cure him. Yes, I'll introduce him to Barbara.” He winked at himself in the mirror, and gathered up his hat and gloves. At the seme instant a servant appeared at the door with a card. Waring took it and gave vent to a pro- longed whistle, but in a moment he re- membered himself through the haze of his onishment. = ‘Show the gentleman up, show him up,’ he said quickly. “Now 1 must be careful what I say: funny that he should call the very y I get the letter. Wonder if he looks like his fat I am very glad to see you, Mr. Noel,” he exclaimed heartily as a blonde, good-natured looking young man entered the room. “Know your fa- ther very well; I ought to say extremely well. I'm happy to welcome you to An ica: very happy, indeed, to welcome you to me! a = ‘ou are kind, Mr. Waring,” said Noel. “I promised my father I wovld look you up if Lever came to New York.” “Delightful of him to remember his oid friend"—hypocritically, and with his hand upon the letter in his pocket. “He always spoke of you in the warm- est tones, sir,” said the young man ous! He did not appear a e er or willful youth He + Waring had expected, judging his from father’s letter, and even through the sim- ple candor of his manner one might have seen a suggestion of ratisfacti reserve force and self-reliance. Waring insisted upon taking him to the theater, and learn- ed during the drive that Noel had studied art abroad, and that he expected to set up a studio in New York. He did not speak of his family, and Waring tactfully frained from making inquirie: i duced the young man to his rv managed during the evening into Mrs. Col. Waring’s car some mation about his aristocratic famil his father’s wealth, ng especially upon the princess. Mrs. Col. Waring ab- sorbed all the: tails as a hunery fish does water after being out on dry iand. He's very ambitious, too. Works, you know, for the love of it. Will suit Bar- bara to a T,” Waring added, as she smiled biandly upon the young man when he had slept off the effects of he had ajmost forgotten Noel's Some mining investment called to the west and he left at a y's notice, merely writing a line of fare- wel! to Mrs. Waring and her daughter. CHAPTER II. Jasper Noel did suit Barbara exactly, more perfectly than she had ever any man conid. He was frank and simple of manner and open cf speech, but had a strong will. Then he also had that generosity which is apt to accompany the artistic temperament. His admiration for women was of the idealistic sort, ten- derly chivalrous and reverential. Barbara laughed to herself over his unworldly faith, while the sensation of tears stung her eyes. She saw that his worldly experience had not been excessively broad or else that he had passed along with eyes closed to the selfishness and folly of her set. He painted well, surprisingly weli for a young man of such great expectations, and de- veied himself assiduously to work. That also appealed to her. “He will be great as well as rich, and he is so lovable, so lov- able,” she acknowledged to herse! She had always expected to be interested in the personality of the man she married, but not to the extent that Noel absorbed her. It was almost alarming. “I think I leve him; yes, I’m sure I love him.’ She rested her chin on her hands and mused awhile. Why should her heart beat so fast and loud every time she recalled a tender such a consideration?” glance or a whispered word of his? He never had made love to her as other men, 2 “Well, positively this is the first real mystery I ever came across in my life. I feel so dif- ferent, so very different.” She began walking the floor of her little room with a restlessness that would have astonished Mrs. Waring could that lady havé been a spectator. “Yet they say that’s always the way,” she continued, musing to herself. ‘One reads about it until one is weary and yet one is drawn on just the same, and it is always new.” The deep disquiet of her soul bewildered her. There were some trinkets on her Lu- reau and she arranged and rearranged these, scanning the. effect each time as though the result were a matter of grave moment. But her thoughts were all the while busy with other things. Finally, obeying an impulse; she put on her best walking gown and set forth for Noel's studio. She had grown very fond of the studio, but this was the first time she had ever gone alone, and she. wondered now what her mother would say. But she must see him, analyze him in the light of this new reyelation, if she couldn't analyze her- self. She knew that it was his working hour, so she opened the door and walked in. He was painting away with all fervor, with a dirty, heavy-mouthed, droop-eyed child before him as a model. “Why, Miss Waring, Miss Waring,” he cried, delighted. “I'm so glad you've come today. I've been wishing all morning ‘hat you could Le here. I wanted you to see this new model. See what a wild, lovely tangle in her hair, and what long eyelash- es she has. I found her on the street and asked her to come up with me. She makes a fine study in color with that yellow drapery behind her.” Barbara was not artistic enough to easily reflect his enthusiasm, yet the picturesque- ness of the child was not entirely lost upon er. “She is very good,” she agreed, absently, and walked around to look at the picture on the easel. She was flushed and breath- less from rapid walking, and now that she stood in his presence wished that she had not come. “Please goon with your work,” she begged after a moment. “I shall feel sorry if you don't, and talk to me about your model. Where did you find her?” “On the street. Do sit here on this chair where I can see you, too, if I am to work while you are here. But she was too restless, uneasy over the boldness of her visit, to sit down. She continued to walk around, looking at sketches and odds and ends of draw- ing. Noel's eyes followed all her move- ments and his interest in his work flagged. When Barbara saw the little model steal- ing softly away, some shining coins in her dirty little hand, she felt that she too must go. “Not just this moment,” he pleaded, putting out his hand. “But I only came in for a moment. I have some shopping—an appoihtment—” she stammered, blushing and confused. Then she looked up at him as they stood facing each other, and he took one of her hands between both of his. “Ts it true, Barbara?” “Is what true? “I love you, love you so. Do you love me a little? I-I seem to read it in your eyes.” “Oh, you must let me go,” she breathed, suffering an intenser fright over her own emotion than over the impropriety of the situation, standing there alone with him in his studio. “Yes, this instant, sweetheart, coming this evening to see you.” “Yes, come,” she faltered, as she van- ished through the doorway and fled down- stairs. but I'm The engagement was publicly announced in a few days. Mrs. Colonel Waring be- lieved in letting the world appreciate her triumphs. She confided the story of Noel's wealth and high connection to two or three gossipy friends, and the poor princess figured largely in the story, too. Little notices crept into the papers, and Barbara was envied as well as admired. Noel was too blissfully happy to heed anything out- side of his sweetheart and his picture. He had been accepted, and so had they at the spring exhibition, and discriminat- ing critics had given them hign praise. It was about this time that Tom Waring returned from California. A lucky finan- cial deal had edded considerably to his for- tune, and he was gay accordingly, yet his smile grew a trifle grim when toid of Bar- bara’s engagement. “I thought she’d make him forget the other woman, but I'm afraid men are faithless creatures, any- way. I'm true as anybody to love, but not to its personification. I thought I had left my heart safely in New York, and now I believe it’s in Mexico. Stunning creature I met down there!’ But sentimental re- grets could not cloud Mr. Waring’s satis- faction in his financial success. He beam- ed upon the world like a full-risen sun and returned thanks for his good fortune in liberal donations to favorite charities and jiamond pin to Barbara. two days after his return that he received another foreign letter, and he rec- ognized James Noel's handwriting before he broke the seal. “Dear Waring: I regret exceedingly that I troubled you with that former letter about my son. He did not sali for America, but secretly married the widow. The bad taste of the matrimonial affair still lingers bit- ter aromd my mouth, but there’s no use worrying now, and our daughter-in-law is staying with us. By the way—' Waring did not stop to turn over the page and finish the letter. He felt his hair ris- ing and an ague creeping down his back. Young Noel still abroad and married! Then what of this other man who bore his name, who had won Barbara? An adventurer? The thought was awful, Twenty minutes later he rushed into Mrs. Waring’s apartment, breathless, turbulent, the open letter still in his hand.’ The draw- ing room was free of visitors. Mrs. Col. Waring reclined by the open fire, absorbed in a book, while half way down the room rbara sat radiant, talking with Noel. Waring felt like springing upon the young villain for holding the girl's hand, but re- strained himself, because such a course ‘ould be unwise as well as lacking in dig- Still his anger increased with every e he took forward into the room. Mrs. prang nimbly to her feet. “Good heavens! Tom, what's the matte! “The devil’ he at man is a—a—the Lord only 3 his voice failing him, one finger nted at Noel inquired the young z matter, you ask me the mat- Tread that and you'll find out. Oh, it shows you up well,” thrusting the letter Mrs. ‘f ed into his hand. disgust the I membered Waring as he had fi and thought he comprehended the situation. “You are a httle excited now,” -he said pleasantly, even amusedly. “I ‘think you must have missed part of this letter. It ex- plains the situation pretty weil, an and—.” He broke into a hearty laugh. “I feel much as though I had stepped out of a pink-hound story book. He has mis- taken my identity, Barbara; he has mis- taken it quite seriously.’ vd There was a twinkle in his eye, but he noted with surprise jthat Barbara’s face wore an expression of; puzzled anxiety. Waring began reading, the letter aloud. “By the way'—he read, beginning where he had left off—‘my nephew, Allen's son, writes me that he hag settled in New York, and knows you, as well as some of your relatives. I hope he'll be more successful in his art than his father was in business. Poor Allen, you must remember what dreamy, impracticatile jfellow he was. Waring’ paused, feeling decidedly blank. Noel’s face softened to tenderness. “Poor father! We felt satisfied with each other. We didn’t care for the money; you would have loved him, Barbara.” Then he looked again at her. Oh, pardon me, I did not think. Of course I have only my art, and three thousand a year, not much to live upon. But I did'nt realize, I didn’t know the money might make a difference to you. How blind and selfish of me. Un- der the circumstances it is more than need- less for me to explain to you how free you are—Miss Waring.” The coals dropped softly in the grate. Between rage and disappointment Mrs. Col, Waring had been almost paralyzed. But the attitude of her daughter consoled her, and Noel's words were like balm to her heart. “You have at least earned the good will of both Barbara and me by appreciating the situation so perfectly,” she finally said, addressing him. “I shall always consider you a friend of the family, one of our best friends, in fact,” her tone beginning to take on a tinge of eifusiveness. “Barbara is such a sensible girl I have never felt any anxie- ty about her. This is a severe test—but I am proud of you both.” No one responded to her little speech. ‘Twilight seemed to turn suddenly black, and even Mrs. Waring shivered slightly and drew her black lace scarf more closely about her. “That fire is dying down, I must ring for coal,” she remarked. “I wonder that Maria doesn’t come in to light the gas,” as a@ wavering yellow gleam wandered in from the street lamp. “I hope we shall still see you when you—you feel like dropping in for a cup of tea, Mr. Noel.” But Barbara sprang to her feet as Noel started for the door. Her face crimsoned, her eyes glistened mistily. “You don’t think that such a trivial con- sideration as money could come between us, do you, Jasper? You are"—her voice was beginning to quiver and break. “Wh: you are unworthy of my love, aimost, if that is the way you take me. You know, you must know, that my lot lies with yours, whatever- It was plain that she could not say any more just then for tears, but she was rest- ing against him and he stroked her hair with the soft, tender touch we reserve for children and people most precious to us, holding her fast and close. “[ understand,” he whispered from the depths of his content, “I understand.” pecan Toston NEW PUBLICATIONS. PARK—CHICKA- THE ‘TIONAL MILITAT |AUGA-CHATTANOOGA. An Historical Gul ‘ith Maps and Mlustrations, By H. V. Bo ton, Cincinnati: ~The Robert Clarke Com- pany. A skillful writer and one who is not only acquainted with his subject but is deeply in love with it, Gen. Boynton is of all men the one who should write the history of the battles of Chickamauga and Chattanooga and give to the public the most compre- hensive statement ‘as to the origin and development of the park project which has yet appeared. In making plain to the reader whose knowledge of the war of the rebellion is comparatively limited the ne- cessity for such a park as that which the nation has seen fit to acquire, Gen. Boynton produces interesting, testimony. “The bat- tle of Chickamauga,” says he, “was one of the best illustratjons j@f the pluck, en- durance and prowess of the American sol- dier which the war afforded. Measured by the percentages of losses, and the duration of the fighting for the various portions of each army, it was the deadliest battle of modern times. Its strategy will always be notable in the history ot;wars, So far as the occupation of the field was concerned it was a confederate victory. - Considering the objects of the campaign it was a Union triumph. ‘The ‘battle ‘of Chattanooga was the grandest spectacular engagement of the war. Its featuyes.anpear in as bold relief as do Lookout pet and Mis- sionary Ridge upon’ the flelds which they dominate.” From ‘thé fatts presented by the general it appéarsztnhat twenty-nine of the thirty-three states,east of the Rocky mountains, which,,comprised the Union at the outbreak of the war, had troops en- gaged in these campaign$, and five of these were represented on both sides. The latter were Kentucky, Missouri, ‘Tennessee, West Virginia and Maryland. Three Union armie: took part in the campaign for Chattanoog: the army of the Cumberland in its entiret, four divisions of the army of the Tennes- see, under General Sherman, and four from the army of the Potomac under Gen- eral Hooker. On the confederate side Gen- eral Bragg was reinforced by General Long street's corps from the army of North Vir- ginia, by troops from General Johnston in Mississippi and by General Buckner’s corps from East Tennessee. Thus the whole country was directly and largely interested in the campaign and battles for Chatta- nooga, while on each side were many of the most distinguished and prominent of- ficers of the war. “It was this universal interest of the country and its armies in these battles,” says Gen, Boynton, “the bril- tiancy’ of the strategy, the unsurpassed pluck of the fighting, and the wonderful natural features of ‘the flelds of battle which made it possible to secure the unan- imous support of Congress for the froject of establishing the Chickamauga and Chat- tanooga National Military Park.” But en- tirely aside from the gulde-book value of this work—which of itself is very consider- able—there 18 a great quantity of material that will be highly appreciated by purely military students. The two great con- flicts and all the minor engagements of the campaign are described in detail by one who was not only a combatant, but who has applied himself seriously for the past thirty-two years in securing all of the many varieties of information that were to be had and sifting out the real from the fic- titious. Liberally illustrated, fully supplied with understandable maps, and giving com- plete rosters (by commands) of the con- tending armies, this volume will be highly prized by the veterans of the north and the south and by those other individuals who can appreciate painstaking effort to a good end. LISHETH WILSO shire Hills. By Lee & Shepard. Those who know the wife of the former Representative and Senator from New Hampshire know that a story of her telling would not depend for Its interest upon a deep and gruesome mystery, to be plucked out by keen-scented detectives, nor yet vould its heroine be one of the “new wo- man” class, who set for themselves the task of solving hypothetical problems born of prurient imaginations and ulwholesome lesires. “Lisbeth Wilson,” as its-unroman- tic tile might indicate, is a piain, straight- forward, oid-fashioned story of country life in New England, two or three generations ago, simply but sweetly told. Of course—as a silken cord whereon costlier beads are strung-there is the-threag of a love story running through the narrative, telling the hopes and trials of a true-hearted young couple, who held a pure life and a clear conscience above all else, but whose ways were made troubled by that stern religious intolerance which drove the Puritans to America, but which, in some mysterious way, seemed to come across the ocean with them, or closely follow them, to take root and bear Ditter fruit in the hearts of their descendants, for many generations after- ward. The interest; in this oll but: ever attractive episode—which,. of course, finally erds happil not fag from first to last; but the great charm of the volume lies in its delin New England character and its pictures of Ney England scenery, of both of which the aitthor is an uncommonly careful and’ inteiligent ob- server, and a most 'faithfut limner, as well, Indeed, this dominating quality will p in the mind of the general reader, whose verdict may be that the author dwells too largely upon minute details. This is natu- ral, however, and rathe White of Selborne himself 1 nature more closely ard, as the scenes ai are all laid and th in the locality where she was born and has always lived. sav ional seasons spent in Washington, they impressed upon her fore, thoroughly equipped for the task she undertook, and the pages abound through- out in local color, wonderfully true to na- ture, and thoroughly lifelike portrai the participants in the simple Whe Blair is known he in book-making is sure to be w for her sake. But more than thi iy be said. It is hardly less certain to make for itself and hold a place in the literature of the day for its pure and lofty tone and genuine merit. THE PEOPLE'S CYCLOPEDPIA OF UNIVERSAL KNOWLEDGE, with Numerous Appendixes In- valuable for Reference in all Departments of Industrial Life, with the Pronunciation and Orthography Conformed to Webster's Interna- tional Dictionary. Edited by W. H. DePuy, A.M., D.D., LL.D., assisted by the following editotial staf’: Prof, Alpheus S. Packard, Dud- ley Buck, Thomas Sargent Perry, Daniel Dor- chester, James. M. Buckley, Prof. Heury Mar- tyn, Paul Clarence Cook, "Charles E. ‘Sajous, 1 George G. Reynolds, Jobn’ Clark Ridpath. New York: Hunt “& Eaton. Washington: R.A. Dinsmore, 628 G street. “Of making many books there is no end,” and especially does this undeniably accu- rate scriptural statement seem to apply to books of the encyclopedic sort. New dictionaries have of recent years made for themselves honored places in useful litera- ture, and now comes a new encyclopedia— an encyclopedia edited and compiled by mcre than a hundred of the men vho ore eminently suited to such a task. The pub- lishers’ princfpal reasons for the presenta- tion of this valuable work of reference at this time are that all encyclopedias other than this lack freshness; that “all the civilized governments of the world make a thorough enumeration of thegr resourees— social, industrial and physical—once in every decade,” and that “in this last quar- ter of the nineteenth century the pace of human progress is so rapid that any trust- worthy work of reference needs constant revision in order to fitly represent the lat- est achievements of the forces of civiliza- tion.” This encyclopedia follows as close- ly as possible the conclusion reached in the aimost co-incidental census of the United States, Great Britain, Germany and Canada. In every respect this six-volume edition is an improvement upon the one issued under the same auspices in 1881, at which time the work achieved remarkabie success and in the succeeding years be- came deservedly popular. The People's Cyclopedia is specially valuable to those who, for many reasons, do not care to possess cyclopedias which deal with topics az great length. The editing has been very carefully done, the effort evidently having been to condense information without sac- rificing any of the essential facts. Mention also should be made of the fact that the People’s is an American cyclopedia, special attention having been given to the south and west in their social, industrial and po- Ittical aspects. Pertinent illustrations, ad- mirable maps and a great variety of charts and diagrams add materially to the value of a most excellent work. GREAT MEN AND FAMOUS WOMEN. A. series and pencil sketches of the lives of more wo hundred of the sotages In history. New York: Selmar Hess. Washington: C. E. Lipscomb, 1006 F street. Published by subscription and subdivided into sixty-eight parts, this work deserves to achieve useful popularity. It deals with soldiers, sailors, statesmen, sages, work- men, heroes, artists and authors, and it does so in such a fashion that the book at once establishes itself as one of the fea- tures necessary to anything approaching completeness in a modern library. The range of personalities liberally sketched is very wide, and within its bounds may be found a great proportion of those who at some Stage or other of the world’s history have achieved more or less of fame. Caius Marius and Julius Caesar receive the atten- tion to which they are entitled, and so do Thomas Carlyle, Sarah Bernhardt, William Hogarth, Benjamin West, Grover Cleve- land and a host of other celebrities of all sorts. Some of the illustrations, notably the photogravures, are especially excellent. Among the authors who have contributed to the biographical riches of this book are Theodore Roosevelt, H. H. Boyesen, Louise Chandler Moulton, Henry George, John J. Ingalls, Will Carleton, H. Rider Haggard, Edgar Faweett, Albion W. Tourgee, Noah Brooks, Murat Halstead, Edward Evere:t Hale, Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Justin Mc- Carthy and William Lioyd Garrison. THE sc PE OF A SCULPTOR. By Willtam Ordway Partridge, author of “The Technique of Sculptire,"” “Art for America,"” &e. Second Faition. ‘Bostoa: Roberts Brothers. Many Washingtonians will remember Mr. William Ordway Partridge’s exaibi- tion of sculpture at the rooms of the Cos- mos Club. It was not, perhaps, generally known to those who admired his work in marble that Mr. Partridge 1s a poet as well as sculptor. The poems in the little volume named above show how well he is entitled to rank as one. No one can read “Sowing to the Spirit’ without feeling the intense earnestness and sincerity of the writer (which, indeed, are his strongest characteristics), nor without being uplifted into a clear and pure air of unselfishness. Should any one feel that his life is barren of blessings let him read “The Caged Lark” and he will be strengthened in his efforts to do his duty under any circum- stances, however adverse. Some of the poems show the writer's sensiiiveness to pleasing, natural and musical sounds; “The Brook,” “A Rhapsody” and ‘The Convent Tower” are such. All of the poems are pervaded by a deep earnestness of pur- pose, much too rarely shown in modern poetry. ost prominent per- LOTOS-TIME IN JAPAN. By Henry T. Fincl Illustrated. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons. Washington: Brentano's. Mr. Finck is satisfied that in very many respects Japanese civilization is superior to the civilization of which we occasionally feel proud and of which we are not unwill- ing to boast. The testimony that led him to such belief was ever before him while he toured in Japan, and he has putin this book as much of It as he deemed necessary to attempt conversion of Americans who imagine Japan to be uncivilized and the United States the home of all that is best in human characteristics. Mr. Finck says: “I have tried to show that the Japanese have as much to teach us as we have to teach them, and that what they can offer us is, on the whole, of a higher and nobler order than what we can offer them. Jap- anese civilization is based on altruism, ours on egotism.” With a preparatory utterance like that the reader might be led to expect a didactic sequence, but instead of that pos- sibility there follows clever descriptive writing of the sort usually to be found in good newspapers. Appropriately and well illustrated, the volume lacks but little of fully-rounded completeness. ENGLISH SEAMEN IN THE SIXTEENTH CEN- TURY. Lectures Delivered at Oxford Easter ‘Terms, 1893-4. By James Anthony Froude, late regius’ professor of Modern History in the Uni- versity of Oxford. New York: Charles Serib- ner’s Sons. Washington: Brentano's. To a nation that sees with the eye of faith the coming of a time when the star- spangled banrer shall float from mast- heads in every sea these lectures should be of extraordinary irterest and value, for in them is sketched the way by which Britan- nia sailed to maritime greatness that not even the sharp competition of a comnrercial age has been able to seriously disturb. Froude’s motive, of course, was to impress history on the minds of students, and he must have succeeded wonderfully; such vivid sketches are not often given in cold type; they send thrills through the veins of those who even remotely sympathize with the daring deeds of Drake, Hawkins, Howard, Seymour, Frobisher and the oth- ers who made England mistr of the ocean some tnree hundred years MAKING OF THE NATION. S17. By is A. Walke i President ets Inst ys With and Append! Charles “s Sous. Washington: Brentauo’s. Gen. Walker presents an admirably com- pact history of that period of American his- tory in which the loosely-joined states were welded into a nation—a history in which there appears all essential data, stripped entirely of the minute details that so often incumber the progress of hurried searchers after facts, A FREE LANCE IN A FAR LA Being an ac- count of the Singular Fortunes of Selwyn Fyve- ways of witys Hails, in the Gloucester, “Esquire en Years a Bree Adventurer in the Kingdoms of Hindos! Herbert Compton, au “The Dead Stan's ) r er,” “A King's Hi York: The Cassell Publishi William Bal NDMARKS OF JERUSALEM, atton, z author of : rican New York: Harper & Woodward & Lothrop. Woodward & Lothrop. y Mrs. “Of the rm of F :. Lovell, Woodward & Lx Forreste ishing, * Washington: THE HELPFUL SCIENCE. By St. George Mivart, F.R.S. New York: Harper & Brothers. Wash ingtou: Woodward & Lothrop. . A DAUGHTER OF THE SOI. A novel. By M. E, Francis. New York: Harper & Brothers. Washington: Woodward & Lothrop. A SAWDUST DOLL. By Mrs. Reginald de Koven. Chicago: Stone & Kimball, PAINE'S CELERY COMPOUND. Charles MacDonald, a Prominent Ghicago - Business Man, Is Restored fo Health, Within a few steps of the intersection of two of the busiest thoroughfares in Chicago, if not in the entjre country, is a store through the portal of which more people pass in the course of a day than enter into and depart from any other estab- lishment of its size in the west. Men and women whose faces bear the stamp of intelligence and culture; women who lead in society, art and let- ters; men who are prominent in the professions; lawyers, physicians, artists, judges and journalists. ‘The exterior of the place gives immediate evi- dence of its character, which is that of a center of current news and information. It is the news and pericdical depot of Charles MacDonald at 55 hington street, who writes the following letter CHICAGO, Feb. 20, 1895.—Messrs. Wells, Ric! ardson & Co., Burlington, Vt.—Gentlemen: It is clearly the duty of every person to acknowledge @ service rendered, no matter what its nature. When, however, the character of the benefit be- stowed is such that it lightens the daily burdens of our lives, and changes our nights from dreary watches to periods of tranquil and refreshing re- pose, the duty resolves itself into a pleasure. A few months ago, owing to the confining nature of my business, I began to feel at first a sort of S30, languor and listlessness, to disguise which I was compelled to bring into play all the strength of will I could command. The feeling grew upon me, however, and in a short time it took such posses- sion of me that it affected my appetite and caused insomnia, I approached my meals with a fecling amounting almost to nausea, and my bed with hore ror at the restless might that I was nearly certaig was befote me. It was only by the strongest ef- forts that I was enabled to hide the change from people who came into my place of business, but my intimate acquaintances were quicker to notice it. I had arrived at a point where I could no longer keep silent upon the subject, and speaking of it to one of my friends one day be suggested that I try Paine’s celery compound, I purchased _ a bottle, and before I had taken a dozen doses I knew that the suggestion was a good one, for I felt an improvement. I continued to use feel entirely restored. My appetite is good, I sleep well, and, instead of an irksome grind, my business has again become a pleasure to me. You may put me down as a strong advocate of Paine’¢ celery compound. ’ Yours respectfully, CHARLES MACDONALD. OOO TO AUTHORS FOR “Stories of Mystery.” - 9 THE CHICAGO RECORD offers to authors the sum of $30,000 for original stories written in English, no parts of which have ever been - heretofore published. The offer is made upon the following condi- tions: $20, OOO WILL BE PAID IN TWELVE CASH PRIZES FOR THE BEST TWELVE STORIES. THE MONEY WILL BE DIVIDED AS FOL- Lows: & First Prize Second Prize Third Prize Fourth Prize Fifth Prize Two Prizes of $600 each Five Prizes of $500 each Making a total of = = = $10,000 2 >= 3,000 a aha e! 1,500 =‘ = 1,006 ==. s. 800 1,200 2,500 $20,000 ‘The first prize will be paid for the story adjudged to be the best, the second prize for the story adjudged the next best, the third prize for the story adjudged to be the third in merit, the fourth prize for the fourth im merit, the fifth prize for the fifth in merit; two prizes of $600 each and five prizes of $500 each, thus making the total of twelve prizes in $20,000. $10,000 | ADDITIONAL WILL BE PAID AY SPACE RATES FOR STORIES OF ACCEPTED VALUE BUT WHICH MAY NOT BE AWARDED ANY OF THE TWELVE CASH PRIZES. The stortes submitted in this competition are required to be “sto- ries of mystery”—in other wor explained until the last cha tion. stories in which the mystery is not , in order that readers may be offered for guessing the solution of the mystery im advance of its ‘The stories must reach THE CHICAGO RECORD at its office of publication, 181 Madison street, Chicago, and the awards will be made si read and judged. ML, before Oct. 1, 189, soon after that date as they'caa be For full information authors will address VICTOR F. LAWSON, Publisher The Chicago Record, Chicago, Ilil., U. S.A. ap2t-wistt BISMARCK TOOK THE TABLE. But He Had Another Like It Made in a Night. From the Cincinnati Enquirer. In his private studio at the castle of Friedrichsruhe Bismarck has a piece of furniture of which he is particularly proud, although he admits that he is not the legitimate owner. It Is an ordinary dining rcom round table, made of common cherry wood. The preliminaries of the treaty of Frankfort were signed in February, 1871, in Versailles, in the Rue des Reservoirs, at the house where Bismarck had his headquar- ters, Thiers and Jules Favre were the French delegates. Around the table referred to were discussed the articles of the treaty, which was finally signed, after several days’ heated debate. The’ chancelior, on that memorable occasion, closed the ar- gument, of which Thiers had the best, by refusing to k French any longer. The Frenchmen being unable to understand a word of German, understood that it was useless to insist, and gave their signatures, granting to Germany the possession of Alsace and Lorraine, an indemnity of man: millions and many other advantages. Bis- narek proposed at once to the landlord of the house to buy his table, offering an enor- mous price for it. That gentleman pi ively refused, and for several years exhib- ited the table to any one who wished to see it. It was not the genuine article, though, because Bismarck had a duplicate during the night by skillful workmen, ani sent the original to Berlin. The imitation Was so perfect that the gentleman from Versailles never discovered the truth until 1876, at which time the chancellor had the table in the library of his palace in Berlin, The owner made a trip to the German cap- ital and threatened to enter a lawsuit, He Was offered money, but refused it, He wanted Bismarck to be arrested for rol bery, and for his trouble was taken bi to the frontier by the police. On his return to Versailles he forwarded to the chancele lor an open letter, in which he stated that case, accusing even the German statesman of having taken his dining room clock. The Frenchman, who, by the way, is very wealthy, has taken the oath that he will equip, at his expense, a company of — shooters to regain possession of the tal if the war of revenge ever takes place, eee What He Was After. From the Pittsburg Post. - Caller—“Is your sister tn, my little man?” Willie Wise—“She said if Mr, Sweet came, tell him she was sick; if Mr. Rush came, to say she was not in, and if it was Mr. Earl, to say she was out with Mr. Sweet, She sald she'd give me a nickel if I got it right. I don’t know which you are, mister, hut you bet I'm goin’ to get the nickel.”