Evening Star Newspaper, August 10, 1895, Page 16

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 10, 1895—TWENTY PAGES. KITZBUHEL IN THE MOUNTAINS. IN AUSTRIAN TYROL Jottings About the Old Town of Kitzbuhel. AMONG THE SWISS PEASANTS >— Beautiful Walks and Views in the Neighborhood. THE COSTUMES AND CUSTOMS Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. KITZBUHEL, July 20, 1895. vB bO NOT BELIEVE many of the readers of our fay te, The Evening Star, have heard of this little town of Kitzbuhel, lying among the Alps of the Austrian Ty- rol. Kitzbuhel, how- ever, if not known to the outside world, has a good opinion of it- self, fer has it not existed since the “migration of na- tions?” I quote from the local guide book, and then it can boast of its chateau in the town, and Kapburg to the east and Lunberg to the west. Kitzbuhel is prettily situated op a hillock in the wide thal of the Kitzbuler Ache. They say it took its name from the first tribes finding the chamois feeding on this same hill. “Kitz,” in the peasant parlance, is not without its own importance. It is the town of the val- ley, and hither all the mountaineers come on a Sunday morning to hear mass and to make’ weekly purchases. I love to saunter down the village street and watch the Main Strect. different groups, the women in semi-Ty- rolese dresses; the round, black felt hats, some embroidered richly under the brims, others not, but all having the Jong black ritbon strings. The square-cut bodice with the many colored kerchiefs and black skirt ecmplete the costume. With the men, scme few have the knee breeches, denoting the foresters, but all wear the green felt ornamented with a flower, plume or squir- rel’s tail. I never saw such smokers as these men are and such droll pipes as they have. One always sees the pipe before ‘he man. The village street is the one main street it can boast of, for it is not large within the old walis, although now a town has grown up without them. I cannot say that in itseff Kitzbuhel would ever attract me as a summer abiding place. It is in the environs that the beauty lies. Never have I seen or taken such a variety of walks and of such beauty. To the north lies the “Schwarzer See," a resort of the Kitzbuhlers, who rise early, take the two- mile walk, and then indulge in the mud bath, said to be strengthening. The lake itself is dark and somber, reported to be very deep. I prefer the south side of the town, up the thal, passing en route the “baths.”” I wish I could take you une of these Schwarser See. ‘bright mornings with us up the ravine along the babbling brook to the Schleler Fall, a cascade of over a hundred feet. It is most charming, with the :nountains on either side rising not abruptly, but sloping gradually upwards to the higher points, clothed with the green pastures; or it may be that the dark stately firs rise high on either side, and the noise of the broox, or the voice of the cuckoo, are the only gounds which break the stillness. Home- wards, over the Alps, and through the fcrest to the Ebner Kapelle, on Its edge, from whence one has a glorious view. ‘These chapels one finds everywhere, on the top of an Alp, or in the valley, and al- ways the wayside crucifix. Wandering along the path the other day, up the side of a mountain, I came upon a small chapel-like building, in which was depicted the scene in the Gardan of Geth- gemane, the Savior, life size in wood, kneeling upon a rock, and below the dis- ciples asleep on the floor. All figures were realistic, and you can imagine the effect coming upon it suddenly. ‘There is another small stone chap2l on the Einsittel, to which, on the 2d of July, the peasants have a pilgrimage. I believe it is the only day in the year that mass is said there. More than all have I enjoyed the insight these rambles have given me into the peas- ants’ lives, who during the summer months attend to the milk’s being sent down to the town, and are ready to supply the pe- destrian with milk, coffee or beer, as well is coming for the day on the 4th of August. What the archduchess and the bishop of Triest have to do with troops my know- edge of the patois has not fathomed. W. eae ae CAPACITY FOR HARD WORK. A Definition of Genius — Not Always Precocious. From the St. Louis Globe Democrat. ‘Phere Js something very remarkable about the manner in which genius has generally manifested itself at a very early age amorg men who afterward distinguished themselves in a particular line. As soon as he cculd speak, Napoleon announced his in- tention of becoming a soldier; the young West's first pictorial efforts were with bits of charcoal on the walls of the paternal mansicn; at three years of age Mozart was picking out the thirds on the keys of the well-worn family harpsichord; at twelve Robert Clive had formed the idle lads of His native village into an crganized body and had laid the mercharts of the village under contributions of half pence and apples, with a promise of protection from other depreda- tors; at ten Ferguson was watching the stars and estimating their distances apart by placing beads on a string; at the same age Michael Angelo was making busts in clay; when oniy a little older Rembrandt was sketching the portraits of his youthful acquaintances; when not quite so old New- ton was making experiments in natural sci- fence with bottles and jars as his apparatus; when a littie younger Patti was delighting parlor audiences with her marvelous voice: when scarcely more than half so old Mrs. Siddons s making a sensation on the sta at eleven Isaac e as the infant prodigy Watts was chastised by his father for his habit of rhyming on every occasion; at about the sane age Edison was a determin- ed investigator of physical phenomena; at ten Jeremy Taylor was placed on a table to repeat what he could remember, which was a good deal, of the minister's ser at eight Moore had written very pas: Verses; at twelve Ben Jonson had composed a tragedy; at thirteen Stephenson had per- fected an invention; at nine Sir Humphrey Davy had a list of contrivances he proposed to make; at fourteen Magliabecchi spoke half a dozen languages. Yet it will not do, from these instances, numerous and well authenticated as they are, to conclude that genius Is always pre- cocfous or that evidences of talent do not also appear at a tender are among children whose later years fai! to realize the promise given by an apparently gifted childhood. Many thousands of boys, fasc’nated by the pomp and parade, the drums and gay colo; of a passing regiment, have declared their intention of adopting a military career: many of them doubtless did s>, and yet few rose to eminence in the profession of arm the last commencement season witnessed the unbounded admiration of countless mammas and aunties for the efforts of young Ciceros on the collegiate rostrums, and yet the probability is that not one of the number will ever become a Webster or a Clay; the biank walls in every school in every city In this country are defaced with, drawings in crayon by youthful artists, yet the chances are that in twenty years from this time the most of these- young amateurs will be engaged in some vocation anything but artistic; thousands of boys have written poems and dramas before attaining maturi- ty and have sold dry goods or driven nails for their living; many hundreds of youths make nuisances of themseives and endanger life and property by experimenting with chemicals that smell badly or burn holes in the carpet, or explode, and yet the number of great chemists is not appreciably in- creased; so the problem, what becomes of all the youthful geniuses, remains as much of a problem as ever. The truth is that most of them are not geniuses at all, but merely inquisitive young people, who have taken a fancy to some particular line of work or investigation, but there the contemporaries of the world’s great thought exactly the same thing of some of them, for West was thrashed for spoiling his mother’s wails, young Jean Sebastian Bach was punished for showing too much interest in the study of the harp- sichord, and Eddiso= was kicked off a rail- road car for setting it on fire with some of his chemicals. So only by his fruits ts a genius to be recognized; if the early promise is fulfilled, then the boy is a genius; if not, his early studies. predi!octions and researches were merely boyish curicsity, of no use himself and sometimes very troublesome to his neighbors. The theory that genius is a growth rather than a gift is not popular, but there are So many Instances of men great in <. cer- tain line, who became so only by degrees and in consequence of painful and pro- tracted effort, that there really appears to be something of truth in the saying, “gen- jus is only an unlimited capacity for hard work.” HACK WRITERS. The Amount of Moncy That They Can Manage to Earn, Under the title of “Confessions of a Lit- erary Hack” there ts printed In the July Forum an article of considerable interest to writers, amateur and professional. Pret- ty yarns, as the author says, are told about the great sums of money that so-called “hacks” earn—sums varying from $10,000 to $20.00 a year—and he straightway makes an effort to disprove these stories by re- counting his own experience. There seems much reason in his statements, supported as they are by an account of his yearly sales to the various well-known American publishers. “Hacks,” unless under the shadow of ex- ceptionally good fortune, rarely make $6,000 a year. This writer's average is a little less than $5,000, and is attained only by working every day in the year, and by keeping his eyes constantly open for sub- jects. One or two years he has made more than $5,000. He has contributed to the Harpers’ publications, to the Century, ta Lippincott’s, the Chautauqua, Leslie’s Once a Week, Ladies’ Home Journal, Cosmopol- itan, North American Review, Forum, Scribner’s, Christian Union, Youth’s Com- panion, McClure’s syndicate, American Pres# Association and the New York Sun, Herald and Tribune. Some of the contri- butions have been fiction and some poems. The least amount received for any one article during a given year was $15 foi pcem, while the greatest amouat was for a story. By the months respectively. beginning with January, during the same ear, he earned $432, $471, $531, $527, $487, ii oo aa Kitzbuhel Bath. gs have a chat on the weather, the strang- 's coming and going, etc. This salutation russ Gott, not Guten Abend {s Guten orgen. Even the tiny children on the street adding as well, ‘Kiss der hand,” and kiss der hand all do when receiving money, @ most embarrassing performance to the @tranger coming from the outside world, where such civility is rot thought of. An- ther curlous custom is the continual ring- ha of the church bells during a storm. I @sked why it was, and was told that they fered in that way to prevent its being a vere one. Kitzbuhel is now in a@ state of expecta- jon, for 1,700 of the troops are to encamp the end of July, and the archduchess 20, $310, $295, $354, $490, $475 and $i40--a tetal of $5,222. The payment received is ten dollars a thousand words from weekly, and double that price from monthly publications. This is the price paid by the Harpers, and, ac- cording to this writer, since they are the greatest buyers, they practically establish the rate of payment by their competitors. Some publishers, however, have no fixed ate of payment, either for articles or fic- fon. A few publishers pay when the man- uscript is accepted, while others defer pay- ment until publication, Among the many interesting statements in_ the article is this cheerful confession: “During the second year of my experience as a literary hack I realized that the mere maker of descriptive and didactic articles had a very limited fleld in which to sell his pieces; so I concluded to try my hand at fiction, for there is a constant demand for short stories. There are many things for which I have no gift, but my story-telling gifts are conspicuously deficlent. iy sto- ries are so poor that I neve: read one with- out a blush of shame. write them, how- ever—I am obliged to write them—and I consider it a pretty bad year when I dg not sell more than half a dogen of them. me of them are so bad that I am ashamed to send them forth to the world under my own name. I sell them, however, used over @ pen name, which I have be aden! ae the sake of what I call my CAMPING IN MAINE How Senater Frye Enjoys Life When Free From Public Duties. HIS PICTURESQUE FISHING CAMP The Famous Rangeley Lakes and Their Surroundings. TALK OF SPORT AND POLITICS ——__+-_—— (Copyright, 1895.) Written for The Evening Star. NE OF MY EAR- Or: recollections of 2 very pleasant ac- quaintance with Sen- ator W. P. Frye of Maine is a story he told me about his first salmon. He said that when he re- turned to the hotel after taking it some one drew a picture, representing the -sal- mon as about twice the size of the Sen- atcr, and that when he saw the picture he said, earnestly: “That was just the way ke looked to mé?” Sinee that time Mr. Frye has taken a great many salmon, and they look no larger to him now than the tape and scales will show them to be. He has caught a great many trout, too, and shot a great deal of game, ard his exploits with rod and gun have earned for him the repu- tation of being one of the best sportsmen in the United States Senate. Mr. Frye never misses a vis:t to his cump on one of the Rangeley lakes in the spring if public business will permit him to ¢scape from Washington. When Congress takes a long reeess, he seeks the lakes early in the sum- mer and puts in two or three weeks brown- ing his skin and strengthening his sinews. Sometimes some of the other members of the Senate share his camp life with him. The Rangéley lakes are about 100 miles nerth of the town of Lewiston, which is the Senator's home. There are four cf these lakes now. Once there were six, but the building of a dam raised the water level and consolidated some of them. On these four lakes are numerous hotels and eemps. Five post offices handle the mail which the wheezy little engine of the Phil- lips and Rangeley road brings into Range- ley every evening at 7:19 o'clock. It is a ‘funny little engine, running on a ful ny little road—the only road with a two- foot gauge in the world, I believe. The prime object of the road is the carrying of visitors to the lakes; and it handles 10,000 of these every year. But it hauls quite a quantity of lumber from the saw mills which abound all ‘through the woods of Maine—agencies which are fast depleting our forests, The little engine whisks the little cars around curves and trundies them over tres- tles which, in the light of scale on which everything Is built, seem triumpns of pigmy engineering. rhe prairie may be as still as Rangeley after midnight; it is no quiete>. There is a dead silence in the air which is restful to tired nerves. It is net broken till the birds Legin to cheep in the early dawn; then the saw mill starts and then at 7 o'clock a sharp blast from the whistle of the little steamboat “Irene” signals the beginning of her tour of the first of the Rangeley lakcs — “‘Oquossee,” commonly called Rangeley ‘ The dei wooted hilis rise directly from the shores of Oquossoc in some places; in others fertile fields break with r brighter green the monotony of the wooded slopes. At short intervals along the shore are cottages or “camps;” for un- destand that “camping” at Rangeley is not life in a tent. The cottages are sub- stantial and well furnished, and the own- ers of them draw most of their food sup- plies from the farm houses which stand back from the shore. The best potatoes grown in America are to be had around the Rangeleys and the mutton of the region is said to be equal to the finest English Southdown. Butter, cream and eggs can be had in any quantity and the serious fea- tures of samp life are entirely lacking. At the end of Oquossec lake is a “carry” about a mile and a quarter long. As the Irene pufts up to her little wharf, you see a buckboard waiting to carry passengers across to the poiiut on Mooselucmegun’ where ancther little steamer is to them to the club house at Camp Renn bago or to Senator Frye’s camp or to the second “carry’’ and the lake beyond. Senator Frye's Camp. Senator Frye- has the finest location for a@ camp on any of the lakes. It stands on a point of land which is quite cut off from the mainland since the dam was built and the lake level was raised. On one side stretches Mcoselucmeguntic—on the other, Cupsuptic, and opposite is the club house. The Senator's house is a five-room cottage of logs, planks and shingles. There is no attempt at ornamentation outside except at the point of the roof, where one of the Senator's hunt trophies—a deer's head— has been nailed. The front door opens into 2 wide hallway, in which there is a fire- plac2 big enough to accommodate cord- wood. In front of this fireplace the Sena- tor and his guests sit in the evening and tell of the day’s sport or play a rubber of whist. The woodeburned in the big fire- place is birch, cut near the camp and stored in the wood house until it is sea- soned. The wood house is one building in quite a little settlement. There is a house for the guides, a kitchen house and a boat house, in addition to the wood house and the cottage. Ice comes from the club house two miles away. The Senator’s table is bountifully supplied with well-cooked food in great variety. If any food supply is lacking a guide is sent to the club house to telephone to Rangeley for it. ‘When: Mr. Frye goes into camp, he cuts himself off from the world as much as possible. His private secretary has in- structions to forward no mail to’ him and to answer only urgeat letters with the statement that the Senator is in the woods and cut of reach of all communication. A Dry in Camp. The day at Camp Frye is divided much like the Senator's day at Washington. He breakfasts at about 8 o'clock. “People make a mistake fishing in the early morn- ing,” he sald to me. “The fish do not bite well until the sun has been on the water for an hour or two. Between 8 and 10 and between 5 and 7 are the best times for fishing.” After breakfast the Senator takes a guide and goes out in his boat to -eek a good fishing ground. He fishes altogether with the fly, end plays his fish as long as it has any fight left. He has the world’s record for a trout caught with a fly—some- thing over ten pounds. He goes back to camp for luncheon about 1 o’clock. The afternoon he devotes to tinkering about the camp—painting, doing carpenter work and making himself generally useful—unless he has visitors. A great deal of visiting is done on the Rangeleys, and often as many as fifteen or twenty canoes are moored at the Frye camp landing. In the late after- noon the Senator sometimes goes fishing again. At 6:30 o’clock he has dinner. In‘ the evaning he usually plays whist. In September Mr. Frye brings his wife with him to his camp for the fall fishing. ‘The Rangeley camp is not the only sum- mer camp which Mr. Frye owns. He has a camp on the Reatigouche, where the sal- mon fishing is famous; and he owns a place on Squirrel Island, a resort on the Maine coast, where he can have the satisfaction of wearing a flannel shirt and a pair of old trousers. His daughter and her seven chil- dren usually accompa.y Mr. Frye and his wife to Squires! Island. That is where the ree, family has gone since I visited the nator. Fishing in Nova Scotia. During the intervals of sport the Sena- tor told me something of his experience in fishing in Nova Scotia this spring. “I took a couple of Indian guides,” he said, “and a couple of birch canoes and went up several rivers into the interior. Nova Scotia, you know, is settled only along the coast. The interior is perfectly wild, and there is very fine shooting and fishing there. slept in a tent part of the time; but my ides furnished me a of fir a foot thick, a great deal softer than seny mattress I could have slept on, and more eapratit ‘ent life is not possible in Maine. To mfortable in the Main woods you must, have a fire a good part o! the time, and is not possible in a tent. “One thing I noticed in Nova Scotia was the way an English settlement stretches along the c r a few miles, and then a French se’ ent, and then another English settlement, and so on. The two races are distinct. The old antagonisms, begun when the,two nations fought for the possession of this country, still live. I never knew an Englishman to recommend a French guide. He will recommend an Englishman, but never 2 Frenchman. “It is singular. how much nearer to us than to Canada in every sense the people of Nova Scotia’are. All their trade is with us. They do nothing with Canada. Nova Scotia would be much more appropriately a part of the United States. She is only en expense *now to Great Britain. I believe the English people would have no objec- tion to relinquishing Nova Scotia to us. = ‘fhe Canadian Problem. “How about Canada?” I asked. “Z think her people are not yet ready for annexation. But I believe that the solu- tion of the Canadian problem is to be found in self-government, and I believe that the English would not oppose that. The trouble is that this movement must start with the people of Canada, and they have a number of legislators and officers whose life positions would be forfeited by a change in government, and naturally these object to a change. All of the members of the upper branch of the Canadian parlia- ment hold office for-life. If the objections of these people could be overcome, Canada could be independent of Great Britain, and we could make a satisfactory reciprocal trade agreement with her very quickly. I believe that I could draw up in twenty days an agreement that would be in the main satisfactogy to both parties, Canada wants to sell us her farm products and take our mavufactured goods. Great Britain nat- urally objects to paying 40 or 50 per cent on manufactured articles sent to Canada, while ours go in free. Self-government for Canada would solve the commercial prob- lem between the countries.” “And how about the coal interests of Pennsylvania?” I asked. “They would not be injured material said the Senator. “It is probable that New England would obtain her soft coal from Ca » but I believe that the Pennsyl- vania people would lose very little. And, by. the way, some people have an 4dea that Canada has not good coal. They are very much mistaken, “It was odd when I went there,” the Sen.tor, “to find how the people knew me. I was greeted constantly by strangers to whom I was introduced with, ‘Oh, we kr-cw you.’ They remembered my speeches on the fisheries and other public questions in which they are interested.” Twisting the Lion’s Tail. I referred pleasantly to the Senator's rep- utation as a twister of the British lion’s tail. He laughed. “T recall an experience I had with West,” he said, “with Lionel West, the British minister. During his absence from Wash- ington I saw a copy of the London Times, commenting on some remarks I had made in the Senate, criticising Great Britain. ‘The paper had a Montreal letter saying that there was ‘the very best authority’ for stating that I was an Irishman, and in a leader on the subject the Times said that it was pleased to learn this fact, as it ex- plained my animus, and showed that what I said did not represent the general feeling in the United States. Some time after- wari, Mr. Carter, the Hawaiiar minister, called on me,one day and said that West had just returned to Washington. I asked where he had been. Mr. Carter replied, to Montreal. ‘I immediately put two and two together. Mr. West was evidently the ‘authority’ for the statement sent to the Times. ‘Do you mind taking a rather im- pudent message t Mr. West?’ I said to Mr. Carter. ‘He said that the impudence would not deter Him, as he did not like West. ‘Then teil him,’ said I ‘that my great great grandfather was in command at the capitulation of Lewisburg and that the orixinal .erms of capitulation were made out by him and are now in my pos- session. And tell him that at that time his great great grandfather was a sutler in the British army.'» I don’t knew that the message reached its destination. “I don't like England,” said the Senator positively, “and I don’t see why any Amer- ican should. England has never lost an opportunity to do what would displease us. Her gyvernment has always been against us. Look at Gladstone. He has been op- posed to us always. So are all her leading men.” I suggested to the Senator that possibly the American women who are marrying leading Englishmen would succeed in bringing the countries more closely to- gether. ¢ “They become Anglicised too quickly,” said Mr. Frye. “At least all of them but Nellie Grant have. She was not encourag- ed to forget her Americanism. Why any American should want to be like the En- glish I cannot understand.” A Speaker, Not a Writer. I askcd the-Senator if he was doing any literary work at present. He has written some very interesting magazine articles on subjects of public importance. “I always decline offers from magazines now,” he said. “I am more of a speaker than a writer. I find writing tiresome> One of my chief occupations in the recess of Congress is making speeches. I am ask- ed corstantly to speak at banquets, at commencements, at celebrations of various Kinds. I get out of as many as I can. Then I am constantly in receipt of requests for my opinion on the silver question and cther public matters, and when I am at home I always reply that I know nothing about these things up here. Speaking of the sil- Yer question, something Mr. Carlisle raid in the Kentucky campaign amused me.” The Senator put his thumbs in his trous- ers’ pockets, threw back his head and smiled that rare smile of his, as he recalied what Mr. Carlisle had said. “When the force bill was under consideration in the Senate,” he continued, “I was one of its ardent supporters. We saw the silver men drifting away from us, and in the republi- can caucus one day I accused them of sellirg themselves for thirty pieces of sil- ver and not having the modesty to hang themselves afterward. They were very in- dignant at the charge, and Teller in par- ticular, I remember, repelled the accusa- tion, All of them assured us that they hed no understanding with the democrats, and, as they were Senators and gentlemen, we had to accept their word for it. In the Kentucky campaign this summer Black- burn accused Carlisle of having voted for free silver, and Carlisle replied that Black- burn knew well enough why he had voted for free silver—that he was carrying out an agreement with the free silver republi- cans to defeat the force bill.” Then the Senator smiled again. As te Politics. Referring to what the Senator had said about the Canadian legislators, who serve for life, I asked him if he was opposed to the election of Serators by the people. “I think it:iwould be very foolish,” said Mr. Frye, ‘and I-<would vote against it. But personaly I have not the least objec- tion to it. E)never lasked a vote from the members of ,the legisiature in my life. I never asked)‘the election of a particular legislator. I'have been: elected to the Sen- ate always without any personal effort. In the last election I had the votes of all tl republicans the legislature, and of a) the democrafs but one. And that one, by the way, was the first man to ask a favor of me after my election.” Mr. Frye said that it was possible that Mr. Boutelle would be a candidate for the Senate to su¢ceed Mr. Hale. He did not be- lieve that Mr. Reed would be. Mr. Reed, he said, was not really well known to the peo- ple of Maine. “What do you think his chances for the presidency are?” I asked. “I don’t care to talk about the presi- dency,” said Mr. Frye. “It is not a safe subject."” Since I saw Mr. Frye in Maine, he has been back to his home in Lewiston and has gone to Squirrel Island. He will be at Rangeley again early in September. His life at the seashore just now is free from care or excitement. The buzzing of no pres- idential bee breaks in upon his quiet. ow and then the thought of the foreign policy of the Cleveland administration disturbs his peace of mind; but only for a moment. He is laying up a store of energy for the December days when Congress will resume its session and when the Senator, renewed in mind and body, will take up again the thread of his public duties. GEORGE GRANTHAM BAIN, AND THE SUMMER GIRL TWITTERS BY THE SEA. ——————— BY W. J. LAMPTON. —_>+—_— Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. “Good night,” said Brent, as we separ- ated. “Good night, brother,” said I, with pro- found sympathy. “Pleasant dreams,” said he. “Confound all women,” said I. “Alas, how easily a woman can make a fool of a man,” “Or two men, a Ethyll Lynn was by far the prettiest summer girl at the shore, and she lived about a mile down the beach from the hotel where I was spending a month and all my spare cash. IT was strolling along the sand in the purple and blue twilight-toward her cot- tage, when I was overtaken by Frank Brent, a man I had had a real admiration for, until I heard Miss Lynn go into rap- tures over him one day when I was doing my best to make myself entertaining to her, if nothing more. Ordinarily I am pleased with any per- son’s good taste who agrees with me in what I think admirable, but in this in- stance I seemed to hate departed from my usual custom. However, as I was saying, Mr. Brent overtook me on my stroll, and as I had an ergagement with Mies Lynn and felt easy in my mind on that score, I was rather pleared than otherwise to have company in my leisurely twilight walk. “Good evening, Mr. Hite,” he said, ping his hat with the grace that made a favorite with all women. . “Ah, Mr. Brent,” I smiled, “how do you do? I am charmed to see you. I hope you ill join me in my walk.”” e “With pleasure, my dear fellow”—we were friendly enough for that sort of fa- miliarity, and he caught step with me as we moved along. J “What aid htful evening,” I said, “and how soft the air?” “Yes. A land breeze is always delight- ful when the days have not been too hot. ‘There is an odor of flowers in it, and an tip- him absence of that invidious little chill which | seems to be an essential of the salt air of the sea.”” “I have noticed that myself,’ I said, pleased ta, think he was so observant, for I admire observant people. “Ii is the time for poetry and lovers’ rhapsodies,” I- ventured. He laughed. “There is 2n idea in that,” he said. Then I laughed also. “There is in everything I say,” I said, bowing with mock superiority. “Of course, of cour but as I was about to elucidate. It never occurred to me be- fore to have the meteorclexical conditions coincide with the emotional, and I never have considered atmospheric currents in connection with the composite currents of two thiobhing hearts. I see now, though, the advantages of a soft, sweet, caressing lard breeze as compared with the ¢larnimy dampness of a breeze just off the salt wa- ter.” “It is a beautiful thought,” I responded, proud of ihe suggestion I had*given him on which he had: based so remarkable a conclusion. “Yes,” ke laughed lightly, “and the land breeze doesn't make a girl's nose cold, either, and her hands don’t feel like day before ye:terday’s biscuits in the gloam- ing, as they do when the sea breeze sweeps its salty savor in.” Notwithstanding Brent was becoming trilliant, I blushed painfully, for some- where out of my memory, like the ghost of something, came the thorght of a cold nose that I hed once upsn a time felt touch my cheek, and I remembered that it was. not a land breeze blowing at the moment of contact. . “You treat those things with teo much levity, old man," ly reproof. the matters you refer to are incidenz that sacred experience.” “I presume you are right,” he said, as he carelessly flipped the ushes from his cigar “But how does it happen that yeu are strolling on the beach alone?” ‘And you?” I replied, turning upon him. ‘Oh, I'm with you,” he laughed. “And I am as well accompanied,” I bowed. “But what are men to men under the twi- light stars?” he almost chanted. This was touching a subject I was not anxious to dwell upon, as I expected to take Miss Lyrn out for a moonlight walk, and I mest emphatically did not want Mr. Brent to be of the party, so I hedged. “I don't know,” Isaid “I think men can be perfect companions to each other, even under the most romantic auspices.” “Possibly a_man might be so to you,” laughed Mr. Brent, “bat not to me. For me, moonlight, music, maids and——" “Mush,” I interrupted. ‘Ah, mush, indeed,” he sighed, with his eyes rolled heavenward, “but better than any pie thet ever pleased a palate.” Brent was getting silly. “How far are you going down the beach?” I asked rather suddenly, for at this point we were only a quarter of a mile from Miss Lynn's cottage, and I want- ed to get Brent turned in some other direc tion. “Oh, not very far,” he said, rather super- ciliovsly, I thought, as ff I had no right to ask him such a question. “Far enough, I fancy,” I retorted. “And prey, Mr. Hite, how far ts ‘far enough’ in your vocabulary?” he respond- ed, in such manner as to provoke me all over. “The beach is a public highway, to all intents and purposes, Mr. Brent,” I re- plied, with frigidity, “and I presume you can go as far as it extends.” “And still further, no doubt,” he sata, arcastic as Satan, “if it only extended over the rocks into the sea and there was deep water there and no life savers in sight.” “As you prefer, and I ed. Mr. Brent,”’ stopped. Rte you going back?” he sneered. “You might go over to Miss Lynn’s cot- tage and rest awhile,” he suggested. “I had thought of going there,” I said as indifferently as I could, but I knew he could see that there was more in what I said than I wanted him to know. “I presume you would have no objection to my going with you and obtaining a much-needed rest myself, would you?” “Certainly not,”’ I replied, and he scem2d to think better of me, “but Miss Lynn might. “And why Miss Lynn, pray?” “Really, Mr. Brent,” I said most sneer- ingly, “I cannot undertake to explain to you why Miss Lynn is particular about whom she associates with.” I thought this would crush him, but it didn’t. “Seeing that you are one of her associ- ates, Mr. Hite,” and he swept a scornful salaam before me, “I should think not.” “Mr. Brent,” I said, exasperated almost teyond control, for I saw he was bent wpon interfering with my plans for the evening, “if you will permit me to explain I will say to you that I am here by de- sign.” “And so am I, sir.” “Miss Lynn,” I continued, “has an en- gagement with me for this evening, made yesterday, and I may add that from what she said to me at the time and from what I have said to her at more than a dozen times during the past two weeks, that en- gagement will very probably be made a permanent one. “In other words, Mr. Hite, you and Miss Lynn will be an engaged couple after this evening?” “Exactly, Mr. Brent.” “Then Mr. Hite,” he went on, “let me inform you that I am also a suitor for that young lady’s hand——” “Her fortune, you mean,” I sneered. “Please don't interrupt,”’ he said. “I was more polite when you were talking. As I was saying, I am also a suitor for her hand and she joes not, I fancy, look coldly upon me. Indeed, I had an engagement with her myself this evening.” He was telling tne a cruel lie and I knew it, but I did not tell him so. I kad my en- gagement to keep with Ethyll, and I could not risk a fight, and go to her covered with gore and victory, and much less with gore and defeat, for Brent was an athlete, while I wasn’t. “But you do not love her as I do,” I said half pleadingly, “Love her, man?” and his tones were fierce and fervid. “Love her? Why, you could no more love that woman as I love her thar a humming bird could fly with an eagle, All my hopes and my ambitions, my present and my future, what I have and what I am or ever expect to be, are in her hands, and if I thought they were to be thrown back upon me, I would cast my- ————— self into the sea on the instant. Love her, ATL AD: man? Love her? Why, my love for her R ROADS. passes the comprehension of a dozen men BALTIMORE AND OHIO RAILROAD. e you.” Schedule in effect July 12, 1895. was painful and personal, but 1| Leave Washington from station, “corner of New preserved my balance. For Chicago ahd Nevintect, Vewibgled Limited ‘It is casy for-you to talk” (he was a| trains, 11:30 a.m 8:50 p lawyer), I replied, “but you are not select- ing the proper text. Ethyll Lynn for weeks has been to me the one woman in the world, and I would give my life gladly to win her. Already we have talked over the future that is opening so happily before us, and we have gazed rapturously along the rose-leafec path which we shall follow id in hand to the end of our days.” I am sure Brent thought I was lying to him, but, fortunately, he did not say so. At that moment I was desperate, and it would have taken very little for me to become a factcr in a twilight tragedy dewn by the sounding sea. “Mr. Brent,” I said, repressing my indig- 0. For Cincinnati, St. Louis and Louisville, Vesti< buled Limited, 3:45 p.m.; express, 12:01 nignt, For Pittsburg and Cleveland, express, 11:30 a.m. and 9:10 p.m, ° Raoxs Roanoke, ‘Rnoxeill New Orleans, 11:55 nation, “you have traduced this lady, and redone? Ido not want to hear more from you.” 115 4°80 hin “I have not traduced her more than you| For Hagerstown, *11:30 a.m. and *5:30 p.m. neve sir,” he retorted. “It does not tra- ed footie y ponte, S90 p=. luce @ woman for an honest man to sa; 3:50, 83-00, eis eee he loves her. i epee) P85, “Thank you,” said I, much to his cur-| For Washi Junction and ints, 99°92 prise ‘at the neat tura’I had given his re- | +9:90 a.m. ¥=1:i5 “Express Frain stopnisg eter: eee y And why shouldn't I have thanked him? —= , at least, was an honest man, and I loved Ethyll Lynn with all my soul. oe Brent was an interloper and I was cer- All trains filuminated with Pintsch light. tain of it. He had the specious manner of York, and the the man of that character. ae ane “Mr Brent.” I continued, seeing that he was silent. “you have made certain state- ments this evening concerning a lady which must be shown to be true or you will have to answer for them to me.” This was almost a declaration of war, and I made it with some degree of nervousness, but it had to be done. for passengers 10:00 p.m. For Atlantic City, week dpe 4385, 7-00, 10:00 r Atlantic City, 4:55, 72 E and 11:30 a.m., 12:30 ‘pm. Sa ts opt 120 a.m, p.m. Sundays, 4:55 a.m., “Very well, sir,” he replied, confidently, | 14:50 p.m. f tarda; “I think I can satisfy you that I am speak-| ouey {3% MAY: 4255 8.m, (8:00 a.m. Saturday, ing the truth;” and he took from his pocket | “Except ‘Sunday. st only. a delicate little note and handed it to me. It was from Miss Lynn—from Ethyll—and it appointed a meet with Mr. Brent that | §f evening at 8 o'clock. Was it possible that 1 had made a mistake in understanding her to say -hat she would also meet me that evening at the same time? This was possible, fer I know that when he toid me te come I was in such a state ‘of ture as scarcely to be respensible. “his rote.” I said, after I had glanced over it by the light of Brent’s cigar, for it was already dark, “s-eims to entitle you to seme rights in the premises, but there are others te be satisfied in this matter.” “Rather, I should say, e said, with the air of a triumphant conqueror. “Can you show cause why you are here, Mr. Hite?” xExpress trains. Bazgage called for and checked from hotels and ences by Union Transfer Co. on orders left at icket offices, 619 Peunslyvania avenue northwest, Rene York avenue and Fifteenth street, and at eepot. CHAS. ©. SCULL, Gen. Pass. Art. IPRELL. Gen. Manager. S712 PENNSYLVANTA RAILROAD. Station corner of 6th and BR streets. In effect June 28, 1895. 10:30 A.M. PENNSYLVANIA LIMITED.—Pailman Fleeping, “Dining, ‘Smoking. and “Oveervation Cars larrisis to Cake » Cl uf St. Louis’ Cleveland aod Toleds. Bullet, Parlor Car to Harrisburg. 10:30 AM. FAST LINE.—Pullman Buffet Parlor Car to Harrisburg. Parlor and Dining Cars, Har- Fishurg to Jittsburg. 8: M. CHICAGO AND 8T. LOUIS EXPRESS.— Buffet Parlor Car to Harrisburg. R. B. CAM rallmaa “None, sir,” I said, braving It out as best | GSchmath die te a ee, OSE I could, “except my verbal statement, and | 7:10 FM. WESTERN EXPRESS Pullman I hardly think Mr. Brent will say that I| ‘ine Car'to Chicazo. and Harrisburg to Clevelasa, am a liar. Dining Car. to Ch 10 P.M. SOUTH WI IN EXPRESS.—Pullmaa “It is not necessary for Mr. Brent to say | 7 what he believes,” he replied, and I never felt so like hitting a man in my life, but I re trained my belligerency. “Neither is it necessary for two gentle- men within sight of a lady’s house to be- come common street brawiers,” I retorted with great dignity. “Another time is better,” and there was was a threat in his voice. “Quite so, Mr. Brent. Now let us go on to Miss Iynn’s cottage and submit the matter to her. “As you please, Mr. Hite.”- We walked on in silence. A storm was rising, the black clouds were hanking up in the west; there were flashes of lightning and the angry muttering of thunder, but all of i: was a May morning to the storm that was raging within us. We walked ins and Dining Cars to St. Louis, and Sleep- 2B |. for Kane, ‘Ningara Falis daily, except 10:30 (A.M, for Elmira and Renovo, ‘da Sunday. ‘For Williamsport dally, 4:40 f 210 P.M. for Willia Rochester, Buffalo, and Jaxara Falls daily, except Saturday, with Sleep- tog Car Washington to Suspension’ Bridge jo. 10:40 P.M. for Erie, Canandaigua, Rochester, But- wd Niagara Fails daily, Sleeping Car Wash- or’ Piilladeipita, New York and the, East. iia, New a P.M. “CONGRESSIONAL LIMITED.” all Par- 4:00 lor 4 40. 10:00, some distance apart, Lut met at last, at the a ¥ 4 gate of the cottage, end stopping there an - cots, Fe instant, waiting which one should lift the latch, there came a brilliant lighining flash which illuminated the whole front of the cottage. It lasted not an instant af time, but it was enough. Seated on the piazza was Miss Lynn--my Ethyl, Brent’s Ethyl, our Ethyll—and jack Harper, a young dude both of us de- spised from the botiom of our hearts, and Jack's arm was around her. : We saw it all and heard her little scream excep? Sunday. 10, % 1 nd 1 ‘On :20. 9:00, 9:05, 10:20. 11:00 A.M., :40 (4:00 Limited), te 10:00, 10:40, and’ 11: For Pope's Tine, 7:20 A.M. and 4:36 P.M. as she saw us, and then the darkness came | For Annapolis, 7:20, 9:00 A.M.. 12:15 and 4:20 down thicker than ever. Fat, dally, except Sunday, Sundays, 9:00 A M. I put out my hand to the latch of the | atiantic Coast Line. Express for Richmond, Jack- gete and Brent's hand was there. sonville and Tampa, 4:30 A.M.. 3:30 P.M. any: But we did not lift the latch. || Eichmond and Atlinta, 8-40 PM. daily. Ric We squeezed each other’s hands as broth- | ,™ond only, 10:57 A.M. week-lass. ers in a common woe and went back to the | Aqge postion for Quantico, 7:45 A.M. daily, and botei, arm in arm. SOO R-R, Th, BQ. 948, 10:87, 2: LB aK ——— Public Taxte is Confirmed. From Harper's Magazine. Mr. B— built himself‘a house some years ago. The architecture was simplicity, as a friend said, “to a riotous degree.” It was correspondingly pure, and the house was correspondingly comfortable. The effect of | ror attanti Clit, SOO Gantentnge ents), 10:00, the lines, however, upon the untutored mind | 11:00 A.M. week days, 12:15 and 11:65 P.M was not impressive. A friend visiting Mr. B—'s town, inquiring the way to the house, was told by the boy of whom he asked the question to “go "long "bout a- well, a mile, till you come to a house looks like a barn, only it ain't a barn, an’ that’s his’n.” B— enjoyed the description and told his architect, who made a few remarks about public taste which would have offended pub- lic taste very mugh to hear. “That's their vetdict,” said the architect; “but what does it amount to? It simply proves—,” &c., &c. Two weeks later three friends of B—— rode up from town on horseback, entered daily. Fee Gkpe May. 10:00 A.M. (Saturdays only), 12:15 P.M. week days, and 11:35 P.M. daily. ‘Ticket offices. northeast corner of 18¢ Pennsslvania avenue. and at the station, 6th and B streets, where orders can be left for the check- ing of baggage to destination from ho! ler neeR. 8. M. PREVOST, + Be Manager. General J. R. WOOD, ‘Passenger SOUTHERN RAILWAY. (Piedmont Air Line.) Schedule fn effect July 28, 1895. All trains rrrive and leave at Pennsylvanis Passenger Station. 8:00 A.M.—Dally—Local for Danville. the grounds and stopped before the house. | Manassas for Strasburg, , except Sunday, and Ore of them dismounted and rang the bell, | at Lynchburg with the 'N ‘and Western daily, and B— himself opened the door. SS = > ae and “Whoa!” cried all three riders at once. OR 11:15 A,M.—Dally—The UNITED STATES FAST B— almost swooned. MAUL catrice Pulloan Batter Bi S The horses had tried unanimously to walk | snd Wastington to Jacktonville, uniting at Char- lotte with Pullman for Augusta; also Pull- man Sleeper New York ‘con- nection for New 5 at Atlanta with Pullman Sleeper for Birmingham, Memphis and St. in. an P.M.—Local for Strasburg, dally, except Sun- in, They recognized the “simplicity” of the to Mcatgomery, with architect, and the architect himself has had to admit that popular taste sometimes re- ceives indorsement from unexpected quar- ters. He is now trying to get B— to let him try again. LIMITED, composed of =e and Dining Cars, Pull- Gen. Sherman’s Tane in Japan. ngton to Chattanooga, via Salls- That famous air, “Marching- Tarough New Yok Or ee ee Georgia,” which Gen. Sherman once irrev- erently defined as “that blank old tune,” mery, and New York to and Js kas “caught on in great shape” in| lamblia to Angusta. Gar from Japan, says an exchange. The people | ‘ptqiNe BETWEEN WASHINGTON AXD ROUND there are just wild with enthusiasm | HILL leave W AM Ma over the achievemer.ts of their soldiers in | F the war with China, and lose no opportun- ity to do them henor on their return home. Rudolph Blankenburg, who has just veach- ed this country after a trip to Japan, de- scribes some interesting scenes there. He found Japan much changed, even since his former visit two years ago. “It is becom- ing more and more modernized every day,” he said. “I won't say civilized, for many of the things they throw over they had better retain. One of the most noticeable things during my visit was the enthusiasm shown by the people over the return of the soldiers from the war with China. Every- where one could hear bands playing ‘Marching Through Georgia.’ ‘That is a great tune over there. It is played upon all occasions. Wherever a soldier had many friends in one village they would get up a we Wai 9:01 139 TeM. dally. ex Sanday, "M. Sundays only, for Round Hi, daily except Sunday for Leesburg; 6: Herndon. Returning, arrive ALM. and 7:00 P.M. daily, end PM. Sunday from Round Hil, 8:34 A\M. from Leesburg and 7:00 ALM. CHESAPEAKE AND OHIO RAILWAY. Schedule in effect July 1, 1895. Trains leave dally from Union Station (B, and special celebration in his honor. A band of | P.), 6th and 8 sts. music would come first, then the hero of ooye, = the grandest in America, with the hour, looking as if the demonstration | the b® ea ont complete solid train serv. Was a matter of course, then another band of music and 2 crowd of cheering men, wo- men and children. They were particularly Seaga when foreigners joined in the cheer- ing. m 23 P.M. DAILY.—“Cincipnatt Special""—Solid Vestibuled, Newly tric-lighted, Steam-heated Tretn. Pui sleeping cars Wast ee to Louisville, Ch Indianapolis and St. Louls without change. Car fm anapolin’ 11580: ain. and Chl $-m.; Indianapolis, 11:80" a.m., tr: St Louls, 6:45 p.m., Lexington, 8:05 "a, _—_—_—___. Necds Must. rook le, 11:50 a.m. pec ore ees BP GH BARE te nem 2. 7,3, tae = B) ae — Yan Jay—“The bridegroom was to meet | St punman Sleepers for Cincinuatl, Lexingtos and the bride at the church.” Loulsville, without change. Pullman Sleeper Wash- Hortense—“What did the bride do when | ington, to Virginia Hot re i week days. ration car from Hinton. ‘Arrive the bridegroom did not put in an appear- | Cigeinnnii, 5:60 p.im.; Lexington, 6:00 p.m,: Louls- ence ville, 9:40 p.m.; Indianapolis, 11:05 p.m.; Chicago, Van Jay— left the church withdut | 7:30 a.m., and St. Louis, 7:30 a.m.; connects in ‘any ceremon: nlog Depat for ain ay por OM Cuunfort “and PE only rail dine, ag 25 PM. WAILY.—Express for °, Charlottesvilie, Waynesboro, Staunton and 3 Sam eel al Virginia polnts, “daily; for Bickmond, datfy, e- eildhood until % <ePtiimen locations and tickets at company’s af- was grown my Q\ | aces, 513 and 1421 Pennsylvania avenne. family spent & H.W. FULLER, L fortune tryins to mhé General Passerzer Agent. disease. I visited Hot Springs and ‘was a = treated by the best medical men, but y : and in four peeks THE HAMILTON— sibs gc | | en oe ma Was gone, Te ou; convealent’ to. all departments Dot a sign of it lett, my. miki pices of interest: low rates for’ summer, Phere built “up tsie ‘BALL & POLLARD. and I have never had any return of the dis c¢ | _3525-1m0 = Shie-g have often recommended 8. 8.8. | HOTEL VENDOME, 3D AND PA. AVE. N. Dave alt om Blectric lights; elevator: steam beat American oe (0 fan fee, one Sg Known awe ———— oe seats COMMISSIONERS OF DEEDS. ture to cure, = OF DEEDS AND NOTARY FUR. Me for all states and territories a SPECIALTY by Kk. H. EVANS, Office (basement), 1321 F st. GEO. W. IRWIN, Irwin, Pa. SSS SWIFT SPECIFIC CO., Atlanta, Ga. Never fails to cu 4 even when all other 4} | _Always in oliice, oftice hours. __myil-tf remedies have. Our (6 CHARLES 8. BUNDY, treatise on blood and DEEDS, COMMISSIONER OF Of all States and Territories, BAT ik ot. B. Anow Equity building). ait HN E. BEALL. ~~ JOHN EB. MITCHELL, + Ganmisalonere of Donde Gor every etnve ana cers: &% Notary Public, Me “ —y — min Giacenee meaied ree any ad- dress.